“What are you talking about?” Darling yelled. He shut the car door and held her by the tie on her wrists, bending her slightly so she couldn’t stand at full height. Without her crutches, the weight she put on her foot made her wince.
“Have you ever heard of the story where curiosity killed the cat?” He started to walk to the door, pushing her in front of him. She stumbled and considered making a run for it, but no sooner had the idea popped into her head than she felt the gun poke into her back. If anyone would shoot her without warning, it would be George. Whatever anger he was harboring for her, it was malicious. He stopped in front of the door. “In this story, you’re the cat.”
George let go of her wrists long enough to open the workshop’s door, then pushed her inside. Darling wasn’t sure what she had expected to find in the tiny room, but she hadn’t foreseen the lone two chairs and freestanding electric lights in the least. The chairs faced each other between the white peeling walls and the concrete floors. It felt cold and sterile.
And terrifying.
Whatever was about to happen, Darling was positive she didn’t need to be a part of it.
George shoved her into one of the chairs and stepped back while she righted herself. He didn’t take the seat opposite.
“You don’t even remember me, do you?” he asked, voice pitching higher than normal.
Darling was confused by the question. Surely he wasn’t referring to the trespassing incident that had just happened. Apart from that, she had seen the man only in passing. Nothing that would earn her the death stare he was giving her now.
“What do you mean?” she asked instead.
George laughed.
“Of course you wouldn’t bother remembering what you did.”
“Just tell me,” Darling snapped. She was afraid, but she didn’t want George to see it.
“Wow, you ruin a family’s life and you don’t even remember it,” he said, surprising her. The gun in his hand stayed trained on her as he spoke. Darling glanced at the door they had just come through. If she managed to escape she would be out in the open. She hoped he wasn’t a good shot, because he could hit her easily. But if she could somehow make it into the house, there was a chance she could find something to defend herself with or, at the very least, hide until Oliver found her.
Because he would.
He had done it before.
“Then tell me about it,” Darling said. She wanted him to talk, get distracted and waste time.
The gate guard kept the gun pointed at her. Standing behind the chair opposite, he would not miss if he wanted to shoot her.
“You know, when you first came to Mulligan, I thought you were cute. Young, new, interesting.” Darling searched her memory for George when she was new to Mulligan but was drawing a blank. Whatever memory he was in, she wasn’t sharing it. “Even when I heard the rumor you were working for Jeff as an intern, I still thought that made you more interesting than the women I had grown up around. But then you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, and I realized you were no better than your scum of a boss.” He waved his gun at her in a sudden burst of anger. Without meaning to, she yelped.
“My father skipped out on my family when I was a kid,” he said. “My mother worked her fingers to the bone trying to give us a good life. When I graduated, she hurt her back on the job at the woolen factory. For the first time in years, she was able to take a break, and she deserved it.” Recognition started to prick against Darling’s memory. “So, I encouraged her to tell a little white lie and say she was still hurt. Have herself a little vacation.”
Darling could almost feel the color drain from her face. George must have seen the change.
“Ah, you do remember me,” he said.
“Workers’ compensation fraud,” Darling responded as if she was reading the file Jeff had handed her years ago. She hadn’t put together that George had been Carmen’s son. Their last names were different, if she recalled correctly.
“That’s it.”
“It was more than just a little white lie,” she said with an even tone. “She was collecting it for a year and a half.”
George grabbed the chair and hurled it into the wall. The echo it made rocketed Darling’s fear skyward, but it was nothing compared to what she felt when she realized where the gun was. George held it level with her face. His hand was calm. His eyes were filled with rage.
“You watched and followed her like she was some kind of criminal when all she was, was a woman who worked herself into the ground to provide for her family,” he roared. “She had to spend a year in jail and pay almost fifty thousand dollars! It broke her, it bankrupted us and it was all because you and your boss wanted to make a little cash!”
Darling wanted to say that, although she could sympathize with his mother, her actions had been illegal. Darling had done her job the correct way, observing an energetic woman with no issues and reporting back to the insurance company that had hired Acuity. But she didn’t say anything. George was enraged. He had already cast the first stone and didn’t seem to regret that one bit. Anything she said now would only fan the fire. She didn’t want to give him any more reason to use his gun.
“All out of questions?” he spat when Darling still didn’t speak. Her back was ramrod straight. Her heart was racing.
“I wouldn’t talk to you right now if I was her, either.”
Darling gasped as a voice spoke from the doorway. She hadn’t heard or noticed the door open, and she hadn’t expected that particular man.
“You’re too passionate, George. It’s terrifying.” Jace Marks smiled a perfect smile at the gate guard. His eyes slid to Darling’s look of surprise, and he laughed. “After all of his obsessing over how bothersome you can be, I’m kind of shocked you didn’t put the dots together much sooner.”
He grabbed the discarded chair and set it up across from her. In the process of sitting down, he took the gun from George’s hand and pushed the man gently aside. Darling watched the interaction with new attention. George was being obedient and took the spot behind Jace with obvious pride. She had never known the two even knew each other, yet the loyalty George was exuding for the younger Marks was concrete.
“The dots,” was all Darling could manage at first.
“Yes, the dots.” He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. As if they were in a meeting making small talk. “About Nigel’s little secret. His tryst from younger years.”
“You mean Jean,” she said, finding her voice. “Your sister.”
“Half-sister,” he corrected. “Secret half-sister.”
“But you knew?” Darling was going back over all the events that had taken place. This time she was inserting the two men before her. Finally what felt off about the arrest of Lamar Bennington and Robert Jensen made sense. “Nigel told you?”
“Of course he didn’t tell me,” he said. “Perhaps that would have been the right thing to do, but Nigel doesn’t always operate with the best morality.”
“Then how did you find out?” Darling didn’t know why he was opening up to her, but if it bought Oliver more time to find her—which she prayed he was already trying to do—then she’d keep the conversation going. Although she couldn’t pretend that Jace confessing to everything was good for her health. Trying to tie up the loose end with Jean Watford’s identity had turned Darling into Jace’s loose end.
“A very inebriated family lawyer let it slip that Nigel wanted to make some changes to his will. At first I thought it was to give Mother and me what he had set aside for leaving this pathetic community after his death, but then Mother made an odd comment about Nigel’s extracurricular activities. So I followed him, and there she was.” Every time he referred to Jean, he acted as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Darling didn’t wonder which of the men had actually killed her. She would bet everythi
ng she owned Jace had been the one to do it.
“At first I thought it was an affair,” he said, “but after watching them, I realized the affection wasn’t sexual. That’s when I really did some digging. I even went so far as to steal her hairbrush for a DNA sample to make sure, but when I went to get something of Nigel’s, he caught me.” He rolled his eyes. “He didn’t deny it but had the audacity to ask me to keep it a secret until he could figure out how to tell Mother.”
“And you did, didn’t you?” Elizabeth hadn’t known about Jean. Darling was sure of that. If she had, it would have been more than enough to get out of the prenup.
Jace shrugged as if keeping his father’s illegitimate child a secret hadn’t been a big deal. “It was just another job in a long list of jobs he had already given me. I really didn’t mind the new development.”
“But?” Darling wanted to know what had changed.
Jace smiled wide. It didn’t last long. His words became low, dangerous. “But then he tried to give her money, and when she wouldn’t take it, he promised her a job at the new branch of Charisma.” He paused and uncrossed his legs. Moving his head side to side, he cracked his neck. The calm exterior of control he had been trying to exude was beginning to flake off. When he was ready to speak again, however, George put his hand on Jace’s shoulder.
“He’ll be looking for her soon, Boss,” the gate guard said.
Jace didn’t look as if he enjoyed being interrupted, but he shrugged the irritation off with a nod.
“Go,” he commanded. “And don’t waste any time. Shoot to kill, as they say.”
It was George’s turn to nod. He took the gun from his demented friend and began to leave.
“Shoot to kill? Who?” Even as Darling asked, she knew the answer. George left without a word. She turned her wide eyes to the man in front of her. “Who is he going to shoot?” she almost yelled.
Jace’s smile came back. “Your bodyguard, of course.”
Darling’s breath went shallow. She felt her nostrils flare, and her eyes became slits. Every fiber of her being was warring between anger and fear.
“Why? He doesn’t know anything,” she ground out. “I didn’t tell anyone. There was no need to, since the murderers were already thought to be in custody.”
“Oh, Darling, we both know that Mr. Quinn won’t stop until he saves you or avenges your death.” A shiver shot up her spine at that, but she tried to hide it. “Either way, he’s a problem, and I don’t need any more of those.”
Darling heard her car drive away, picturing it going around the side of the house.
“If we were such problems, then why even involve me in the first place?”
“You mean the pictures,” he guessed.
“And the notes.”
“When I realized my mother hired you to prove Nigel’s infidelity, I checked up on you. With all that happened with your parents, I assumed you had some guilt I could use to my advantage. Plus, considering your relationship with the police here, I figured you’d want to do the right thing and turn in any evidence. The hope was that you being so adamantly against Nigel would help put a nail in his coffin.” He made a tsk noise. “By the way, I must ask. After you got all of that evidence on your parents and their extracurricular activities, why didn’t you turn it in to the authorities?”
Anger was starting to win against the fear she felt at being so vulnerable in front of a killer. She lifted her chin a fraction.
“I would think someone like you would understand,” she answered. His eyebrow went up in question, so she explained. “Being the children of powerful people isn’t easy, especially when you see how far they will go to protect themselves. Like you, I was afraid.” It was the first time she had ever admitted that to anyone. In a small way, she felt a sense of relief at finally saying it out loud. It was a shame the admission was wasted on Jace Marks.
“I’m not afraid of my father,” he spat.
“Then why do all of this?”
Jace cracked his knuckles. More of his calm fell away.
“I wanted to be a painter, once upon a time. Travel the world, find beauty in everything, set up shop in Europe and start a family with a woman with dark hair and an accent.” His voice trailed off for a moment before clear anger started to shine through. “But Nigel already had plans for me. He had high expectations, and I wanted to meet them all. I graduated at the top of my class in high school and college—where I pursued a degree he picked out—and when it was all done, I went straight into Charisma. I didn’t even take a break.
“I rose up through the ranks the right way. No special treatment from Nigel...and no appreciation or approval, either. I gave up the life I wanted to live for the only one I thought would make him happy. Not once has he ever given me a ‘good job, son’ or ‘I’m proud of you.’” His fists balled. Darling readied herself for whatever outburst she was sure was coming. “Then Jean shows up after all of these years, and suddenly Nigel is laughing and smiling? Changing his will to include her even though she didn’t want a dime? Giving her a job in the company without her having a college degree? All of it finally helped me come to the most important realization of my life.”
Darling gave him a questioning look when he didn’t continue. He opened his fists and rubbed his palms against his pants. A small smile lifted up the corner of his lips. He looked as if he had mentally checked out.
“I realized that I could never please my father. So, I found a way to hurt him instead.”
Darling swallowed. The bravado she had started to feel stalled at the callousness in his words. “But she was your sister,” Darling started.
Whatever thread of calm he had was severed at her statement. He stood so fast that his chair toppled over. Less than second later he was in her face, hands on the arms of her chair.
“She was a stranger,” he roared. Any facade of a sane man vanished as his anger reverberated off the walls, making its way around the small room. He was seething, chest heaving. It wasn’t until that moment that Darling felt absolute fear. Jace managed to calm himself enough to keep talking. But when he spoke, his tone was nothing but ice. “And you’re about to find out how little sympathy I have for strangers.”
Darling didn’t try to hide her new fear. Instead, she let it show clearly across her features. There was no hope for Jace. There was no turning back. He had chosen his path, and there was no doubt in her mind that he would kill her when his story finished. Though Darling didn’t want the end of it to be the end of her. She also refused to let an angry gate guard be the end of Oliver.
Darling gave the man in front of her a quick once-over. She met his gaze when she spoke.
“You don’t have a gun.”
And then Darling threw her entire weight against the man who dared threaten her happiness.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jace was taller and heavier than Darling, but she had the element of surprise on her side. He let go of her chair, and together they fell to the ground.
He let out a moan as his back met the concrete. With her hands still tied behind her back, Darling fell against his chest. She didn’t want to lose her momentum, so she brought her knee up hard against his groin. He cursed loudly and swung up, his fist meeting her jaw. The blow was hard enough to make her see stars but also had enough power to push her off him.
Trying her hardest not to pass out, she managed to rock up into a crouching position and, using the wall, eventually stand. Jace wasn’t fast to respond, still writhing in pain. It gave Darling all the time she needed to get to the door. She backed against the door and was thankful she could still move her wrists enough to grab and turn the doorknob.
“There’s nowhere to go,” she heard Jace yell out as she ran through the poorly made hallway to the next door that led into the house. With adrenaline pumping through her body, she
opened the door and immediately backtracked to shut it. The task of throwing the deadbolt took precious seconds, but she managed it by getting on tiptoe to lift her hands up. She heard Jace laughing from the workshop but didn’t let it slow her down.
The Slate House had three stories. The basement was dark and damp, and had one half bathroom in it. Its stairs were located next to the kitchen—the room she was currently in—but Darling refused to enter a room with only one exit. Without any lights on, the natural light that filtered in through the upper stories’ windows wouldn’t touch the lower level. The main floor, if she remembered right, had four rooms and no real place to hide since there was no longer any furniture. That left the top floor and its three bedrooms and attic space.
Darling had started to move through the kitchen when a shot rang out behind her. Unable to stop the scream that tore from her throat, she looked, terrified, at the bullet hole in the door she had just locked. Jace had a gun after all.
With more urgency than before, Darling hobbled down the hallway and turned at the stairs. Quickly yet quietly, she took the steps two at a time until she was at the landing. The pain in her foot was incredible, even though she was trying her best to only put pressure on the very edge of her foot, but she knew she had to keep going, If she could find a place to hide, maybe it would buy Oliver enough time to get to her.
She just hoped Oliver would see George Hanley coming.
* * *
OLIVER RACED DOWN the road, determination pushing him. The pleas from Nikki to wait for the police replayed in his mind, but he paid them no heed. This time he wasn’t going to count on them to guide him to Darling. She had been gone too long. Every second counted now.
He glanced at the gun on the passenger seat. Rarely did he find a good excuse to bring it out, but he couldn’t think of a better reason.
Rachel had traced Jace’s cell phone to a piece of land in the middle of Mulligan. George’s phone had last been used at the gatehouse, so that had been a quick dead end. Oliver was betting that Jace believed no one else had figured out his connection to the murder or the kidnapping. He had the confidence of his father. Though when Nigel had come to the realization that his son was one of the two behind everything that had happened, Oliver could hear the man crumple.
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