“It wasn’t that way—”
“Then why didn’t you tell me the truth before we made love? You told me so many things that night, Matthew. You shared so much of yourself with me. I thought it was because you trusted me. I thought you…cared about me. I thought we had something special, but I was wrong, wasn’t I? It was all just a part of your plan for revenge.”
“Emily, no…” He reached for her, but she backed away from him, not daring to let him touch her. If he touched her, she knew, her resolve would melt, and where would she be then?
“What we have is special,” Matthew said softly. “It means everything to me. For the first time in a very long time, I feel as if I can go on again. Like my life has purpose. Don’t diminish what we have, what we’ve shared. Please.”
Emily closed her eyes, steeling herself against the traitorous emotions raging through her. Even now, she still wanted him. What kind of fool was she?
Matthew said, “I’m moving back into the inn tonight. Willis has given his okay. If you need me, call me there. I’ll come right over.”
Emily opened her eyes and stared up at him. “Don’t hold your breath,” she said coldly. “I’m going in to see Stuart now. Don’t try to stop me.”
“I NEED to talk to Stuart alone, Caroline.”
Caroline started to protest. Then, glancing again at Emily’s ravaged face, she shrugged. “He’s in the study.” She turned on her heel and disappeared back into the kitchen.
Emily walked down the hall to Stuart’s office and knocked on the door. Without waiting for an answer, she opened the door and stepped into the darkly paneled room.
Stuart, leafing through a folder, looked up in surprise. Then, seeing her face, her muddy clothes, he set the folder aside. “What’s wrong? Has something else happened?”
“Like what, Stuart?”
“I don’t know. Another accident?”
“What makes you think there’d be another accident?” Emily couldn’t believe how cool she sounded, when her insides felt as if they were coming apart. When her heart had just been smashed into a million tiny pieces and then stomped on.
Stuart came around the desk and faced her. “Emily, what’s this all about? What happened to you?”
“What happened to Wade Drury?” she blurted out.
A dozen emotions flashed through Stuart’s eyes before he turned away from her. “How should I know?”
“Because you and Trey and Sheriff Willis went to see him down by the river the night he disappeared. What happened, Stuart? Did you find him? Did you kill him?” The calmness in Emily’s voice fled. She sounded almost hysterical, even to her own ears.
Stuart looked at her in shock. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you crazy?”
“No, I’m not crazy,” Emily said, striving for a measure of control before she picked up something, anything, and hurled it across the room. “I’m shocked. I’m disillusioned. I’m more hurt than you could ever possibly know. But I’m not crazy, Stuart.”
“You’re not making any sense. Let me have Caroline make you a cup of tea. Something to calm your nerves. Let’s sit down and talk about what’s gotten you so upset.”
“I don’t want to sit down.” Emily began to pace, glaring at him through tearstained eyes. “But I’ll tell you why I’m so upset. Matthew and I have just had a conversation with Tony Vincent. He tried to kill me tonight. I’m hoping, I’m praying, you didn’t know anything about it, Stuart.”
Stuart looked speechless. Sick and speechless. “Emily, my God, it can’t be true.”
“It’s true. And tonight wasn’t the first time he tried to do me in. He says you and Trey knew all about the other times. How could you, Stuart? I’m your sister, for God’s sake.” Her voice broke, and Emily put her hand to her mouth, trying to quash the emotions rushing through her. She wanted to slap Stuart. She wanted him to put his arms around her and deny everything. She wanted this night never to have happened.
“Tony told us everything,” she said, her voice quavering with suppressed emotion. “The state police have arrested him, and I imagine they’ll be here soon to talk to you.”
Stuart let out a long breath as he sat down behind his desk. He looked like a man who had just had the wind knocked from his sails. “I never dreamed it would go this far. We just wanted to scare some sense into you. Make you stop asking so many questions.”
“How could you?” Emily whispered again. “You knew how much the inn meant to me. You knew how much I wanted to succeed. Needed to succeed. How could you try to drive me out of business like that?”
“I thought it was for the best,” he said desperately. “I was thinking about your future. Trey said—”
“Trey said! Trey said! Do you know why I left town seven years ago?” She flung the question at him. “Because Trey hit me when I told him I wouldn’t marry him. I thought he was going to kill me. I had to get away from Paradise because I was terrified of the man you wanted me to marry.”
Stuart’s face was completely white now, his pallor intensifying the raw emotion in his eyes. “You never said anything. Why didn’t you come to me?”
“Because I was afraid to,” Emily told him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t do anything about it. It was Trey Huntington, after all.”
Stuart’s eyes closed in agony. He put a trembling hand to his temple. “My God, Emily. I didn’t know. I swear to you—” He took a deep breath and looked up at her. “I’m truly sorry. For everything.”
“Tell that to Jenny Wilcox’s family,” she said coldly. “And Wade Drury’s.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with their deaths. You have to believe that.”
“Their deaths? Then Wade is dead?”
Stuart nodded miserably, his gaze distant. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, and then he began to talk, quickly, as if the contents of his conscience had been under pressure for too long, and once the stopper was released, it all came out in a rush. “Tony killed Jenny, or at least that’s what Trey told me. He said we had to help Tony, because if we didn’t, we could be in for a lot of scrutiny. The identities of the Avengers could be uncovered, and then we’d all be in a lot of trouble. Our careers would be ruined. I was just out of law school, Emily. I had to think of my future.”
“How did you get talked into joining a group like that in the first place?” Then she said in derision, “Trey, of course.”
“It started when we were all in college,” Stuart said. “It seemed harmless enough at first, a sort of fraternity pledge. We patrolled the campus, made students feel safe. We did some good.”
“Go on.”
“Then, when we graduated, we all moved back here—Trey and I right away, and then Tony a couple of years later. Trey came to us one day with the idea of resurrecting the Avengers. I didn’t want to at first, but he, well, he convinced me it would be for the best. Later, I found out that what he really wanted was a piece of land out on the highway for Huntington Industries’ expansion. The Avengers was a cover to get that property.”
Emily narrowed her eyes. “The property belonged to the family that was driven out of town by the Avengers because the man was accused of stealing. That was all just a ruse?”
Stuart nodded. “When I found out, I felt terrible about it, but by then, there wasn’t anything I could do. Trey had too much on me. And it just kept getting worse. Pretty soon, there wasn’t a way out.”
Emily could hardly believe her ears. “You mean Trey Huntington has been blackmailing you all these years? That’s the control he’s had over you? Why in the world did you ever want me to marry a man like that, Stuart?”
“I’m finding that a little hard to understand myself right now.” He looked at her beseechingly, found no sympathy, then sighed. “I know how all this must sound to you.”
“Do you? I don’t think so.” Emily could hardly stand to look at him, but she wouldn’t let herself turn away. She wanted him to have to face her, to look her in the eye and admit what he’
d done. All of it. “I don’t think you have any idea how I feel right now. All these years you’ve sat in judgment of me, Stuart. You’ve made me feel worthless, like a failure, when all along you were doing Trey Huntington’s dirty work—not the least of which was shielding a murderer.”
Stuart winced, as if he had never quite let himself think of his actions in those terms.
Emily was relentless. “What happened when you went to see Wade Drury that night?”
Stuart rubbed his temples. “Trey had gotten a call from someone, I don’t know who—I don’t think he knew—that said we could find Drury hiding out down by the river. I think Trey had some vague notion of coercing Drury into leaving town, but when we got there, when we found him, he was dead. He’d been stabbed in the back. I swear, Emily, we had nothing to do with Drury’s death.”
In spite of herself, Emily found herself thinking of Matthew and how this news would affect him. He’d always known, of course, that the chances of Wade being alive after all these years were very slim, but to know for sure, to hear how his brother had died, was bound to have a profound effect on him.
And to think that her brother—her brother—had known all along.
“What did you do?” she asked in a wooden voice.
“We buried him,” Stuart said. “Trey said it was meant to be. Everyone would think Drury skipped town because he was guilty, and Tony would…go free.”
“And you never wondered who murdered Wade?”
“We assumed it was Tony.”
Emily scrubbed back her hair. “My God, you’re an officer of the court, Stuart. How could you justify that?”
“As I said, I didn’t have much of a choice by then. I was in too deep. We all had to help each other and keep our mouths shut.”
Emily closed her eyes briefly. “How do you sleep at night? How have you lived with yourself all these years?”
Stuart looked unutterably weary, and ten years older than when Emily had first stepped through his door. “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in years,” he said. “Believe it or not, I feel almost relieved that the truth has finally come out.”
Chapter Fourteen
Emily walked the few short blocks from Stuart’s house to the inn, wishing she felt relief. She didn’t. The truth had at last come out, and the mystery of Jenny Wilcox’s death and Wade Drury’s disappearance had been solved, but all Emily felt was betrayed, first by Matthew and now by Stuart. She wondered if her life would ever be normal again, if she would ever be able to trust anyone.
As hard as it would be to face Matthew again, she knew she had to see him, to tell him what she’d learned about Wade. He had a right to know the truth about his brother. Emily just wished she didn’t have to tell him about her own brother’s involvement.
But then, Matthew already knew about Stuart. Or at least he suspected. That was why he’d gotten close to her. That was why he’d led her to believe he cared about her. So that he could find out more about Stuart.
Impatiently Emily wiped at the dampness on her face. She wasn’t sure whether it was mist or tears. She felt too numb to cry. Too dazed to do anything more than go home, crawl into bed and pull the covers up over her head.
The yellow crime-scene tape had been removed from her door when Emily arrived, and the lights were on in the inn. Matthew must already be there, she decided as she bent to pick up a package that had been left by her front door. Then she let herself in and sighed deeply as she gazed around the room that had once given her so much pride. How everything had changed in just the space of a few short hours.
Emily glanced down at the package. It didn’t have a return address, and she couldn’t imagine what was inside. She didn’t remember ordering anything.
Normally she loved surprises, but today she’d had just a few too many. She carried the package with her to her bedroom, avoiding looking at the stairs and the door beyond the landing as she made her way down the hall.
First she’d change out of her damp clothes, and then she’d go find Matthew. As much as she wanted to postpone their meeting, she knew she couldn’t. Better to just get it over with now.
Changing into jeans and a sweatshirt and pulling on warm white socks, Emily once again picked up the package. Maybe just a peek wouldn’t hurt before she talked to Matthew.
Ripping open the brown paper, Emily stared at the Bible she’d revealed, recognizing instantly that it must be the one Nella had asked her about. Emily flipped the paper over and noted that the postmark was from several days ago, before Miss Rosabel died. Had she mailed Emily the Bible from the nursing home? Or had someone else mailed it for her?
Well, Emily thought, this was just another detail she’d have to take care of. She’d call Nella first thing in the morning. Tonight, however, she didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Her pride had taken too much of a beating.
As Emily leafed through the old Bible, a newspaper clipping fell out and drifted to the floor. She stooped to pick it up, then scanned the headline and first few lines of the article. The clipping was about a science teacher in a small Louisiana town who had been embroiled in some scandal with a student, and had subsequently been found stabbed to death. His wife was the chief suspect.
There wasn’t a date on the paper. Emily had no idea how old the article was or why Miss Rosabel had felt it significant enough to keep in the Bible, but something about the article touched a memory inside Emily. There was something she should remember. Something Miss Rosabel had told her.
Emily struggled to grasp the elusive memory, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Couldn’t quite remember what it was she should remember—
And then, without warning, the lights in the inn went out. Emily stood in complete darkness, the newspaper article about a murder clutched in her hand.
MATTHEW BRUSHED past a surprised Caroline, not waiting for her to invite him inside. “Is Emily here? I have to talk to her.”
“Just who do you think you are, bursting in here like this?” Caroline demanded.
A weary voice from the hallway said, “It’s okay, Caroline. Let him in.”
“He’s already in,” she grumbled as she made a sweeping gesture with her hand, motioning Matthew toward the hallway. “I’d like for someone to please tell me what on earth is going on around here.”
Matthew strode down the hallway to the open doorway. Stuart had already gone back inside his office, and Matthew followed him in, closing the door behind them.
“Where is she?”
Stuart didn’t try to pretend ignorance. “She’s gone. Left about fifteen minutes ago. I was hoping she was with you.”
Matthew raised his brows at that, but let the comment pass. “What happened?”
“We had a…fight of sorts,” Stuart said. “She stormed out of here. I wanted to go find her myself, but I’ve…Well, Caroline and I have to talk.”
“Do you have any idea where she was going when she left here?”
Stuart shook his head, his expression uneasy. “I thought she might have gone back to the inn, but I’ve been calling ever since she left. There’s no answer. I think you’d better get over there, Steele. She shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Matthew knew he was the last person Emily wanted to see, but he didn’t mention that fact to Stuart. He said instead, “The state police have Tony Vincent in custody. He’s admitted everything.”
Stuart nodded. “Emily told me. But I still don’t think she should be alone. Especially not now.” There was an odd note of urgency in Stuart’s voice. For the first time, Matthew felt a small prickle of panic inside him.
“What aren’t you saying?” he demanded.
Stuart closed his eyes briefly. “Trey,” he said simply. “When he finds out—”
Matthew didn’t wait for the rest. He spun on his heel and strode out of the room.
“MATTHEW? Is that you?” Emily stood at the bottom of the darkened stairway and gazed upward, to the landing. She’d heard a noise a few minutes earlier an
d, locating a candle and matches, she’d made her way out of her bedroom, first to the breaker box on the back porch and now to the stairway.
The noise had sounded as if it came from upstairs. She wondered whether Matthew might be looking for a candle, too.
“Matthew, are you all right? I’ve tried the breaker, but that didn’t work. I guess a transformer blew or something. I’ll call the power company.” But when Emily picked up the phone, the line was dead. The fear that she had been keeping at bay since the lights went out a few minutes ago mushroomed inside her.
Her gaze lifted again to the stairway, and this time she gasped. In the flickering light of her candle, she could see someone standing on the landing, staring down at her. Dressed all in black, with a black ski mask pulled over the face, the figure looked like a demon, some dark specter spawned by the night.
The figure didn’t say a word, just stood there looking down at her. Slowly, painfully, Emily’s heart began to pound inside her chest. She was paralyzed by fear, rooted to the spot for what seemed like an eternity, but when the figure started down the stairs toward her, Emily sprang into action. She whirled and rushed for the door.
Footsteps clamored down the stairway behind her as Emily ran through the living area into the foyer. The door wouldn’t open, and she realized someone had locked it. Her shaking fingers closed on the bolt, but before she could release it, something hit her. Hit her hard, on the back of the head.
Pain knifed through her, and as Emily lifted her hand to her head, her fingers found something warm and sticky. And then the darkness around her deepened as her knees buckled and she slipped to the floor.
EMILY HAD no way of knowing how long she’d been out, but when she came to, she found herself in bed, in a candlelit room that looked vaguely familiar. She tried to sit up, but the room spun out of control. Collapsing back against the pillow, she moaned and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she tried to concentrate on a small area of the room at a time.
The lace curtains at the window directly in front of her. The patchwork quilt on the bed. The pine armoire to her left.
Amanda Stevens Bestseller Collection: Stranger In Paradise/A Baby's Cry Page 20
