"Matthew?" she asked. "What are you doing here?" Her cheeks went red as if she was embarrassed to see him.
“Where are you taking my client?” Sorkin asked Meacham.
“To a holding cell,” Meacham answered.
“I’m her lawyer,” Sorkin said. “Are you charging her with anything?”
Meacham cleared his throat. “Ms. Archer is still a person of interest in this case while we gather evidence,” the chief said. “We’re going to hold her overnight.”
“Why?” Matthew asked. “She’s not being charged.”
“Mr. Lennox, when I came to talk to Ms. Archer this morning, she had her bags packed and a bus ticket in her pocket,” Meacham said. “You can see why I can’t let her go.”
"This is ridiculous," Sorkin said. "Charge her or let her leave."
“As you know, I can hold her without charging her for twenty-four hours,” Meacham said. “And up to forty-eight hours for a serious crime like murder.”
Catherine let out a gasp. “You can’t …”
Matthew could smell and feel the fear rolling off Catherine. Her face grew even paler "Release her to my custody," he said to Meacham. "I'll make sure she doesn't leave town."
Meacham shook his head. “Mr. Lennox, I can’t do that.”
“Please,” Matthew said. “You know Blackstone Castle is like a fortress. She won’t be able to leave without anyone knowing it. And I’ll personally vouch for her. You can lock me up if she skips town.”
“Do you know who my client is?” Sorkin asked.
Meacham hesitated, then looked at Catherine, then at Matthew. “Fine. Just fill out the paperwork and make sure she doesn’t leave your home.”
“She won’t be able to leave without me knowing it.”
***
Shock had stunned Catherine into silence. First, it was when Meacham told her he was putting her in a holding cell until tomorrow. She couldn't blame him though. He did find her when she was about to leave town, and her pictures were in the dead man's motel room.
Then, as Meacham was taking her to the holding cell, seeing Matthew at the station had caught her off guard. Was he there for her? But why? No, she couldn’t read more into this. He was there with his lawyer for Luke, and he saw her.
She glanced over at Matthew in the front passenger seat of Nate's truck. They dropped off Luke at his house and were now on their way to Matthew's home, where she would have to stay until they cleared her or arrested her. She supposed it was better than being in some holding cell at the police station, but she knew what it was: trading one prison for another. This one may be a gilded cage, but it was still a cage. And she already knew how it felt to be trapped in one.
“We’re here,” Matthew said as the truck slowed down.
Catherine glanced outside. What she saw silenced her again. Matthew had called his home Blackstone Castle, but she didn't think he meant a literal castle. Blackstone Castle stood on the side of the mountain, making it look even more majestic. Its tall spires and snow-topped towers seemed to reach up into the sky, and she almost expected knights to come rushing out to greet their lord or a princess to wave from one of the windows.
“Catherine?”
She had been staring up so long she didn't realize Matthew had opened her door. "I …" Her eyes remained fixed on the castle even as she hopped out of the truck.
“Yeah, it’s a castle,” Nate said with a chuckle. “Well, I’ll be seeing you. I need to get back to work.” He waved to them, started the engine, then drove away.
“Welcome to my home,” Matthew said, his voice soft.
“It’s beautiful.” It was breathtaking, especially against the clear blue winter skies. “You really live here?”
“Yes,” Matthew said with a smile. “I grew up here with my parents and my siblings. Jason and Sybil prefer to live closer to town, though they still have their rooms here and sleep over every couple of days.”
“And your parents?”
“Well, they retired recently and are on a round-the-world trip with their friends. They plan to be gone for at least a year and haven’t decided what to do after the trip.”
Matthew led her to the front of the castle, and the door opened. On the other side was an older man, probably in his early fifties, dressed in a cleanly-pressed white shirt and brown trousers.
“Matthew,” the older man greeted. “Welcome home. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I’m just here to drop off Ms. Archer. Catherine,” he began, “this is our butler, Christopher.”
“Nice to meet you, Christopher,” she said.
“Likewise, Ms. Archer.”
“Please, call me Catherine.”
"She'll be staying with us for a while," Matthew said. "Please have the guest bedroom in the East wing prepared, and arrange for someone to pick up her things from her apartment. I'll text you the address." He turned to Catherine. "I'm sorry I have to go. I don't want to leave you alone again."
Her cheeks warmed, remembering the last time. "It's fine; I know you're busy."
“Anything you need, just ask Christopher or any of the staff. Or Meg, she’s our housekeeper. You’ll probably meet her soon enough.”
He leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. “We’ll talk tonight. Everything will be fine. I’ll take care of you.”
And once again, Catherine was stunned into silence. Take care of her? What did he mean? She tried to dampen down the emotions threatening to burst inside her. All she could do was watch as Matthew strode away from her.
"Ms. Catherine?" Christopher asked. "If you could walk this way, please."
She nodded and followed Christopher inside. The castle was breathtaking on the outside, but it was even more beautiful on the inside. Whoever had designed it obviously had great taste. While they retained what she imagined were the original walls and detailing, they had modernized the interior, but their choice of furnishings, carpeting, and interior design elements still fit the castle theme.
“Is this castle very old?” she asked Christopher as they ascended the grand staircase.
"Lucas Lennox, Matthew's great-great-great-great grandfather, built it sometime after he founded Blackstone town and the mining company," Christopher explained. "When his company was expanding, he traveled to Europe and met a beautiful Swedish Countess. It's said he fell in love with her instantly and begged her to come back to America with him. The Countess jokingly said she would if he built her a castle, and so he did."
Catherine smiled to herself. She supposed that was where Matthew got his persistence. “Did they marry?”
"Of course," Christopher said with a smile. He led her to the right and down a long hallway. "The castle was renovated sometime after Matthew and Jason were born. Their mother, Mrs. Riva, wanted to refresh it so it was more modern and comfortable, but also expand it so her children could have their own space if they chose to stay here. The entire East wing was converted into four separate apartments." They turned left, and he led her down a short hallway. "This is the guest bedroom. I always have it ready in case Nathan or Benjamin want to stay over. The staff recently changed the sheets and left out clean towels." He opened the door. “If you want anything else, I'd be happy to get it for you."
The room was bigger than her entire apartment over the hardware store. There was a queen-sized canopy bed in the middle, a sitting area in the corner with a love seat and a couch, plus a large flatscreen TV on one wall. The floor-to-ceiling windows opened up to a view of the mountains.
“It’s fine, I’m sure.”
"I'll have someone retrieve your things and bring them here," Christopher said. "Is there anything in particular you wanted, Ms. Catherine?"
"Please, just Catherine," she said. "All my stuff should be in a bag by my door." She fished her keys out of her coat pocket. "Here," she said, handing them to him.
"Are you hungry, Catherine?"
The last meal she had eaten was that morning’s bowl of cereal. “I’m not hungry.
”
"Nevertheless, I'll have some refreshments brought to you. But for now, I'll leave you so you can rest." He gestured to the phone next to the bed. "If you need anything, just pick up the phone. It'll ring straight to one of our staff." He gave her a curt nod and then left.
Catherine looked around her at the luxurious surroundings. A gilded cage indeed. It felt entirely too familiar. She shrugged and looked at the plush, comfy bed. She had gotten up pretty early that day and had spent most of the morning at the police station. She lay on the bed, intending only to close her eyes for a minute, but, when she woke up, she glanced at the clock on the nightstand and realized she'd been asleep for hours.
She sat up. Her brain was muddled, but it only took her seconds to remember the events of that morning. She was trapped. Again.
No, this wouldn't do. She had to find a way to escape. Maybe she could ask for help from her "contact" again, but that was too dangerous. There would be more questions this time, and if her contact found out why Catherine was in trouble, it would all be over.
C’mon, Catherine. Think. You’re a smart girl. The past year on her own had taught her to be resourceful and to think on her feet. Surely there was a way out of this?
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. “Come in,” she called.
The door opened, and a woman walked in, carrying a tray. Catherine estimated she was probably in her late forties. Her brown hair was tied back into a neat bun, and she was dressed casually in slacks and a pretty, embroidered shirt. "Hello dear, I'm Meg," she said as she set the tray down on the coffee table in the sitting area.
“Oh.” She quickly sat up. “I’m Catherine … uh … Matthew’s friend.”
"Christopher told me about you," she said, her kind face lighting up with a smile. "You slept through lunch, so I thought I'd bring you something to eat. Just some light sandwiches, cookies, and tea."
"That's very kind of you, Meg." Her stomach was feeling empty, and she was dizzy from hunger.
“No problem at all,” she said. “But please don’t fill up, okay? Matthew called me and asked me to prepare my special roast lamb tonight for dinner. It’s his favorite.”
Her mouth watered at the thought of roast lamb. It had been too long since she’d had it. “Is there a special occasion?”
Meg laughed. “Matthew didn’t say,” she answered with a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh. I don’t have anything to wear.”
“We’re not formal around here,” Meg said. “Just wear whatever you like. It’s just you and him for dinner. Now, I have to go, but do give us a ring if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Meg.”
With a final nod, Meg left, and Catherine sat down on the love seat. She reached for a sandwich and devoured it in two gulps. Cucumber sandwiches. Mama's favorite. A flood of memories came back, but she pushed them away. Why did everything here remind her of the past?
She ate one more sandwich and poured herself some tea. As she took a sip, she contemplated her future. She could only move forward, after all. But still, she had to put the pieces of the puzzle together. For the past few weeks, she had struggled not to think about what happened in L.A., but she knew the key was there.
It was evident that the Chesnovak Brotherhood had sent Jack Cunningham to find her. What was he? PI? Bounty Hunter? The Brotherhood had many connections in the crime underworld, so it wouldn't be unlike them to hire a specialist to find her. They were also careful not to send one of their own. The members of the Pride tended to stick out, after all. Like many apex predator shifters, they were tall, well-built, and had that look in their eyes like they were always hunting. According to Rissa, they were all loosely related and the Chesnovaks had a distinct look. Mean, strong, and dumb. Just like that idiot, Ivan. If only Rissa hadn’t fallen for that dumbass.
Ivan had done something, she could feel it. She always thought there was something about him that was untrustworthy. He had been gone for a couple of days, and Rissa had been worried because he wasn't answering her texts. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear for days, but usually, he'd tell Rissa if he was going away, if not where he was going.
Then, one night, when she came home after a late shift at the bar, they were there. Ivan's "brothers." The door being open should have clued her in, but she was too tired. Rissa probably left it open, she had thought. As soon as she got in, four sets of golden, feline eyes stared at her. Then there was a soft pop and thud. Rissa's body slumped over on the carpet.
She dropped everything and ran. Ran as fast as she could.
Catherine didn’t even realize she was crying. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to find a way out of this before the Brotherhood got to her and before they hurt any more people. Would they dare come into Blackstone? It wasn’t like the town was closed off to outsiders.
Also, who killed Jack Cunningham? Was it connected to her and the Brotherhood or was it a complete coincidence? Surely, the police would find some evidence that she didn't do it. She'd watched enough police procedural shows to know they needed proof against her, even if she didn't have an alibi. He'd been shot, so they'd have to find the weapon and connect it to her. She had never fired a gun in her whole life.
Too many questions and not enough answers. The tea had gone stone cold by the time she decided she was done thinking. Her head hurt. Looking out, she saw the sun sinking in the distance. How she hated these short winter days. With a sigh, she got up, grabbed her bag, and went to the bathroom.
The shower and bath area were just as plush as the rest of the room. There was a separate glass shower in one corner and a small jacuzzi tub in the other. Fluffy towels were hanging on heated racks, and on the counter was a wide array of soaps, shampoos, lotions, and other amenities. Catherine decided a warm shower was in order, and she quickly whipped off her clothes and jumped into the enclosed glass stall.
She took her time, luxuriating in the hot shower and the fragrant soaps and shampoos. Stepping out of the enclosure, she toweled off and slipped on one of the fluffy robes hanging behind the door, then she walked out into the room.
“Jesus!” she cried out, nearly jumping out of her skin. The tall figure waiting by the window turned around.
"Sorry," Matthew said with a sheepish grin. "I knocked, and you didn’t answer."
“It’s fine,” she said.
“Do you like the room?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” she said. She hated to sound ungrateful, but she couldn’t forget what she was here. A prisoner. “What are you doing home?”
“It’s Friday night,” he said. “I’m done for the day.”
You and me both, she said silently. “I thought a CEO’s work is never done?”
“It’s not,” he said with a chuckle. “But I gotta get home sometime or Meg’ll send out an APB.”
“Is it almost dinner time?”
“Yes,” he said. “Unless you’re not hungry? Meg says the lamb’s almost ready.”
The thought of lamb sent her mouth salivating again. “No, I’m good. I should … uh …” She looked down at her robe. “I should probably get dressed.”
“Of course,” he said with a nod. “I’ll wait outside.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as the door closed on Matthew, she grabbed her clothes and put on her best sweater and jeans, blow-dried her hair, and put on some makeup. As she stared at her reflection, she wondered why she bothered to look nice. It was just dinner at home. Matthew did take responsibility for her, so he had to feed her too, right? With one last glance at her reflection, she walked to the door.
Chapter Ten
Catherine didn't know what to expect at dinner. After all, they were in a castle. She had initially imagined they would be in some austere dining room at opposite ends of a long table. But no. Matthew led her into a small, cozy dining room just down the hall from where her room was. He explained this was the informal dining room for the East Wing. Dinner was laid out on the sm
all cherry wood table in the middle. Meg had taken out the lamb when they sat down but informed them that she and Christopher were headed home for the night and that they would be on their own for dinner. Matthew explained that Christopher and Meg, like many of the staff, didn't live in the castle but rather in their own little cabin on the property.
Matthew served her some lamb; it was delicious. Different from how she usually had it, but it was perfectly cooked and tender. They also had dinner rolls, potatoes, and buttered vegetables to go with the meal, as well as wine. Catherine was stuffed by the end.
"Meg told me that she was leaving us dessert and a nightcap in the library," Matthew said.
“I can’t eat another bite,” she declared.
“Oh? How about a tour of the castle then? To help us digest?”
She nodded. “Sounds nice.”
Matthew stood up and helped her out of the chair, then led her out of the dining room. “This is the newer wing of the castle,” he explained. “Jason, Sybil, Luke, and I all have our own mini-apartments here.”
“But they don’t live here anymore?”
He shook his head. “They all moved away at some point. Jason likes being in the center of the action, so he got one of those fancy penthouses in the newer area of town. Sybil’s kind of a workaholic, so it just made sense for her to have her own place near her office. Plus, she joked that she’d never find a boyfriend if she lived at home with her parents and siblings. Not that she has time.”
“And Luke?”
He paused. “He prefers to live alone.”
Catherine didn't press further but sensed that there was more to that story. Not that she'd be around long enough to find out. She'd already decided that the moment Chief Meacham declared she wasn't a suspect, she would leave Blackstone. There was a strange knot forming in the pit of her stomach, but she ignored it.
“So you mean to tell me, you live all alone in this huge castle?”
The Blackstone Dragon Heir: Blackstone Mountain Book 1 Page 8
