Sunset Flare

by Shannyn Leah

  Kate rolled her eyes.

  Melissa pursed her lips.

  Emma shook her head. “Or at least pretend to get over it.”

  “Or I could just leave and avoid this awkward confrontation altogether and continue to ignore Kate.”

  “Perfect,” Kate said. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

  “Kate!” Emma scolded.

  “Remember, you’re picking Rosemary up from her hockey camp at three and you have her for the night because Marc is booked up.” Melissa sent her rival a smug smile.

  “I know my daughter’s schedule.”

  “And your in-laws are gone so you’re on your own for the night—”

  “Out!” Emma grabbed Melissa’s shoulder, swinging her around. “Seriously, can’t you just be nice,” she hissed, pushing her through the door and shutting it behind her.

  “I still don’t like her,” Kate said. “I try—”

  All the women laughed.

  “What? I do!”

  “Sure you do,” Izzy said, patting her shoulder. “Can we get back to what you four are doing and maybe tell me when you learned about this secret room. A week ago? Three weeks ago? As long as you’ve all known that we have company staying in our wing but didn’t bother mentioning it to me?”

  “You weren’t at breakfast when we discussed it,” her eldest sister, Violet said. Her sister could make her worst enemy turn shades of purple if rubbed the wrong way. She’d been occasionally referred to as the ice queen because Violet never lost her cool.

  “You have these little gadgets called cell phones. If you dial them, they phone out and if you write little messages, you can text them.”

  Anya, her last sister, giggled. “How would you get the message?” Emma elbowed Anya’s side, causing her grin to drop, briefly.

  “Ha ha,” Izzy said.

  “I heard you tried to push Gunner in the pool,” Anya continued. “And failed.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “And then you threw a beach ball at him.”

  All the women laughed except Izzy, but even she couldn’t keep a straight face. “Shut up.” She slapped her closest sisters. “And that’s not all I tried to do.” Her sisters groaned, catching her sexual hint. “Did you see him? He’s one massive body of man muscles that I wouldn’t mind roaming my hands over every crevice...and my tongue.”

  “Izzy!”

  She laughed, walking passed them to peek inside the open doors of the secret bookcase. She hadn’t expected to find more secret rooms in their living quarters, but, at the same time, she wasn’t surprised. “What are we doing here?” Beyond the doors, she saw a metal landing connected to a winding staircase leading to a dark and dingy basement. There were no windows, a cement floor, and brick walls with the corners swathed in cobwebs. A basement designed in which to film a horror flick. The illumination from the extended hanging light fixture stopped feet above a table in the middle of the room illuminating piles of papers and tubs of what she assumed were files stacked beside it. She cringed at the sight of Gunner sitting at the table, concentrating on an open file. She also cringed at the instant heat traveling south at only the sight of him.

  “Kate.” Izzy waved her over, needing a distraction. “You used to spend a lot of time in this library with Marc when you were younger...”

  “Yes. And...?”

  Izzy tried to keep a straight face, even though she faced none of them. “Just think about how many times Robert likely walked up this staircase and peeked through the hidden bookcase, catching you making out, dry humping...or actually tapping...”

  All the women groaned in response, shaking heads and rolling their eyes. Someone slapped her shoulder and she winced when another sister elbowed her side.

  Success.

  Sort of.

  Izzy couldn’t help examining Gunner now that he wasn’t directly in her face, judging her, shouting at her, and pushing her into a pool. His good looks made him easy on the eyes. More than easy. He was a sweet and spicy treat she wanted to unwrap. His striking, chiseled face looked like it’d seen a world of trouble, more than she’d ever managed to get herself into.

  Melissa’s accusing words about her lack of understanding danger dug their evil fingers into her conscience. She pushed them aside to concentrate on how the sides of Gunner’s hair were trimmed shorter and the top a thick mane of beauty. She instantly imagined running her fingers through his locks. A heated moment of passion ran through Izzy as her eyes continued their journey to the colorful ink displayed under his rolled up sleeves, stretching across his bulging biceps.

  “The older one, Anton, is Dad and Uncle Carl’s cousin,” Violet said, cutting into Izzy’s flashes of heat. “According to Marc, Carl had arranged for Anton’s arrival almost a year ago. Anton knows how to de-code the older files.”

  The files.

  Every corner of their lives for the last year had revolved around the contents of these files. The constant reminder of Robert’s extracurricular activity exhausted the mind, and consumed too much valuable time. Robert’s malicious behavior entranced her family in a way Izzy couldn’t relate to. Not when everything they learned in the files hadn’t been as good as finding Rosemary. They’d discovered Robert hadn’t been Izzy and Marc’s biological father. Their DNA had matched their “Uncle” Carl, making them half siblings with the rest of their kin.

  Izzy didn’t want to take part in any more life changing details. Dwelling on the past brought unnecessary heartache she’d prefer to evade.

  “Apparently, the coding is a family cryptogram dating back years,” Violet said.

  “If that’s the case, why doesn’t Uncle Carl just figure it out?” Anya asked. She’d always been quick to put a person in their place, but loyal to the family.

  “He doesn’t understand it,” Violet said. “Both Uncle Carl and Dad were born here, and whatever Dad learned was from his communication with family back home.”

  “What’s up with Gunner?” Izzy asked, caring less about their history and more about the present.

  “His name is Gunner Mann,” Emma answered. “He’s Anton’s assistant or something. Anton brought him along to help sort the files. I don’t think he can de-code them. I’m not exactly sure though. Maybe... Marc’s been so hush-hush about the whole thing.”

  “Gunner’s silently observant and acutely aware,” Izzy said. “I know for a fact he’s sensed us here this entire time and not once has he looked up at us.”

  “That’s not awkward,” Anya said.

  “He does that thing with his head, like Marc. You know what I’m talking about?” Izzy demonstrated what she meant for her sisters. “The head-pause and slight eye drop, but with absolute alertness?”

  The women made low murmurs of understanding.

  “I bet he does the look, too.” Izzy had been watching Gunner for a good five minutes now and she would bet money he had “the look.” “You know Marc’s ‘look’? That one he gives when he busts you doing something you shouldn’t and it’s a mix of disappointment and disgust?”

  They barely got out their comprehending sounds when Marc snuck up behind him and cleared his throat. They all jumped at the sound, whipping around to face the man of topic. Arms knocked, elbows dug into sides and feet were trampled. It was practically a human stampede.

  Izzy smiled at the sight of Marc giving them the exact look they had been discussing.

  Priceless.

  Standing stiffly in front of them, hands tucked into the pockets of his pressed slacks, Marc narrowed his eyes on each of them. Always conservative and classy, but lately he’d let his hair grow out a little longer, and he’d quit always wearing a tie. Easing up on his stuck-up appearance...a bit.

  “There it is,” Izzy whispered, the smirk often responsible for getting her into trouble sneaking over her face.

  Marc’s attention landed on Kate first. “I’m rather surprised to find you here, associating with what I can only assume is an inappropriate evaluation of a serious situat
ion.”

  Assume? Had he heard their conversation at all? There was no assumption about it. They were definitely doing some seriously inappropriate evaluation and Izzy had been having a visually good time.

  Kate sent him a guilty smile. “I love you,” she said, batting her long lashes at him for dramatic effect.

  Gross.

  “For better or worse...” Kate continued. “...until death do us part...”

  Marc’s lips did not even budge in amusement when he asked, “Did you initiate this social gathering, sweetheart?”

  Kate and her siblings were known for being outgoing and meddlesome. It was one of the reasons Izzy got along so well with Kate’s sister, Abby.

  Marc’s wife turned only half serious, facing her husband’s accusing question. “I feel like I need a lawyer present.”

  “What kind of example are you setting for our daughter?” he questioned.

  “And a family counsellor,” Kate added.

  Marc zoomed his attention onto his next victim. “And, Violet?”

  Violet straightened her already poised and composed self. “Don’t you ‘And, Violet’ me,” she said. “If you were less secretive about this situation, I wouldn’t have been forced to resort to...” She sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh, “Snooping.”

  Marc only shook his head, which threw Violet into defense mode.

  “They just show up here and it all seems awfully convenient.”

  “Convenient for what?” Marc asked.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m inquiring.”

  “You mean snooping.”

  “Naturally, I have to question how legit they are.” Violet crossed her arms over her chest, raising her eyebrows and sending her iceycold glare at Marc. But even Izzy saw through Violet’s meager attempt not to look guilty of partaking in snooping, inquiring, spying...whatever they wanted to name it. If shovels had been involved, Violet would be halfway in the hole.

  “You know where Anton fits into the family tree,” Marc said. “This isn’t just some random person off the streets.” He turned to Emma. “Don’t you have a limo to catch with Grayson?” Emma was leaving on another cruise with Grayson and his family.

  Emma checked the time on her cell phone. “He’s right. I don’t want to be late. Sorry, ladies, I’m out.”

  “Kate,” Marc said, once again stealing the spotlight. “You have a store to go open and then you’re picking Rosemary up from camp.”

  His wife frowned. “I know when to pick up our daughter. I don’t need a secretary to dictate my schedule.”

  Marc’s face softened as he planted a kiss on her mouth. Kate shook her head at Marc. “You can’t win me with kisses.”

  “I know differently.” Marc finally let go of a smirk.

  “You two are making me want to hurl,” Izzy said.

  Marc sent his wife on her way and looked back at Violet.

  “Wipe that look off your face,” she said. “I don’t appreciate it. Yes, Ryder’s taking me and the kids up to the lake on his boat for a couple weeks. I get it. Goodbye.” Violet looked at Izzy. “What are you doing now that Mom and Carl took off?”

  “Maybe some tapping.” Izzy nodded in the direction of the library basement and Mr Muscles.

  “I married the queen of tapping,” Marc said.

  Izzy made a face. “Gross.”

  “And if you’re referring to our guests down there.” Marc pointed. “You will be doing no such thing.”

  Her brother thought he could control everything. He was maddening.

  “Could you please avoid getting into trouble?” Violet pleaded with Izzy as she started toward the exit.

  “Yes, Momma Hen.”

  Izzy could see Marc was weeding his sisters away one-by-one so she wasn’t surprised when he brought up Anya heading to Oakston to visit her boyfriend’s family.

  “I feel bad leaving now with everyone gone,” Anya said. “It will only be you and...” she glanced at Izzy. “...it will only be you.”

  “I’m fine,” Marc reassured her. “Go.”

  He glanced at the exit and Anya exited without another peep.

  Izzy planted her hands on her hips, silently telling him she wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Tell me to leave, Marc. I dare you.”

  Chapter Five

  MARC STARTED DOWN the first few steps and glanced over his shoulder. “Well, are you coming?”

  Hell, yes, she was coming.

  Izzy followed him, regretting her stubbornness and wishing she’d left with her sisters. Further down the stairs, the temperature dropped, making her thankful she’d slipped on her cover-up.

  “Anton, I don’t believe you’ve met Izzy.”

  The older man looked up long enough to give a nod and say, “Si, we’ve met. Not properly introduced and I do believe she, how do you say it, threatened me.”

  Izzy gave a nonchalant shrug when Marc glared at her.

  Anton’s attention moved back to the papers in front of him and his cigar in the ashtray. “Everything is here, si?” he asked Marc, without looking up.

  “Yes,” Marc answered. “Like I said, some of it has been mixed up, but we tried to get the names together as much as we could, considering some integrate with other names.”

  Gunner nodded before finally looking up at them.

  For a split second, unforeseen heat sizzled between him and Izzy. His eyes were amazing shades of danger and promises of trouble, while at the same time screaming distance and detachment.

  His eyes intoxicated her the way they moved up and down her, sweeping over, and checking her out in front of Marc. It was either brave or stupid.

  “So...” Gunner drawled, pulling the word out in his thick Italian accent. “We meet again, bellissimo.”

  Calling her beautiful was rather condescending with his eyes zoomed onto her chest.

  “My eyes are up here.” She pointed two fingers at her eyes and waited while his gaze traveled slowly back up. “It seems you can’t keep your eyes off my breasts today.” The features of his face tightened. She could have sworn he’d snarled.

  Bring it, Mr. Italian, because you just met your match.

  “I caught your eyes on the way down. They’re anxious, jittery little things, offering big statements, but hiding deep secrets.” He glanced at Marc. “She’ll do.”

  She’ll do? She didn’t exactly know what for, and wasn’t about to let this big-headed Italian decide for her.

  Izzy pointed a finger at Gunner. “Listen here, you arrogant—”

  Izzy felt Marc’s hand circle her free wrist. “Izzy, they’re here to help.”

  Her eyes flew to him.

  They were sketchy.

  Marc was acting sketchy.

  “They don’t have a lot of time,” her brother continued, as if their lack of time gave them permission to act like giant jerks. “These aren’t just Robert’s personal files, but Grandpa’s, too. Anton has requested that one of our immediate family members monitor their working progress down here.”

  Izzy yanked her hand out of her brother’s grasp, then patted his chest with it. “You have fun with that.”

  She stepped to the side to leave but Marc stepped in front of her.

  “I have a resort to run,” he said.

  “That’s what you pay the staff to do: run the resort. Robert was doing it for years while you were off ‘finding yourself’.” She air quoted the last two words. “I’m sure you can handle it.” She stepped to the other side and he followed again, aligning straight into her path. She loved her brother but she wasn’t against shoving her way through.

  “I would appreciate it if you would stay with them.”

  Was he serious?

  “Just for today. All you have to do is sit down here and keep an eye on things. On them.”

  What did that even mean? Did he want her to monitor what they read? Hang over their shoulders? Make sure they didn’t go running away with the files? All the above sounded insane. />
  “Are you mad?”

  He didn’t flinch. “No.”

  “I’m not staying down here with Jekyll and Hyde. You hired them. You stay down here and supervise.”

  “Isabelle.” Oh, the look was beginning. His tone shifted, and his eyes darkened.

  “Marcus.” She tapped her fingers on her hips, matching the tapping of her designer sandal against the cement floor as she waited for him to move.

  He didn’t.

  “Listen.” Marc gently, but firmly, grasped her upper arm and sat her in an old wooden chair. “It’s just for today.”

  “You are mad.”

  Her partially hysterical laugh was cut short when she felt ice cold metal touch her wrist. She looked down, but not before she heard the click, click, click of connecting metal, and found one shiny bangle wrapped snuggly around her wrist, connecting to a link chain.

  Handcuffs?

  Gunner spun the connecting handcuff around the chair’s arm. She didn’t miss his snide smirk.

  What’s going on?

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Izzy lifted her hands in the air, underestimating the length of the chain and sending instant pain shooting through her arm. She sent her brother a deadly glare. “You un-cuff me, Marc. Like, right now.”

  Marc shook his head. “It’s an easy job. Supervise these men while they are working. Think of it like you’re at the top of the working chain.”

  “I am at the top of the working chain, Marc. And it doesn’t involve actually working.” Izzy tugged the cuffs again, noticing they weren’t fake, but had no button to release them. “I’m going to be honest with you, brother. If this is you trying to get me to work, you’re going about this the wrong way. Handcuffs?” She looked at her wrist and repeated, “Handcuffs?”

  Gunner let out a disgruntled chuckle and Izzy turned to him, flaring with anger.

  “Stick that chuckle up your—”

  “Izzy, it’s only for an afternoon and a little into the evening.”

  Her peripheral vision caught Marc sneaking around her as though he honestly planned on leaving her handcuffed to a chair, in a basement, with a man who had tried to drown her this morning and the other one who seemed as sketchy as Robert. This couldn’t be happening.