“You’re up,” a soft voice says from behind me.
I turn to find Evangeline standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Her hair is still sleep-tousled and she’s still in her pajamas. She’s as sexy as anything I’ve ever seen and I swallow hard. Her pajama shorts are very, very short. I suck in my breath.
I cannot allow myself to be affected by this woman.
I nod.
“Yes. And there’s coffee on.”
Gratitude shimmers in her eyes and I can see that she is like me. Coffee is the first thing she thinks about. She patters out to the kitchen and pours a cup before it is even finished brewing. She blows on it, then sips at it. She looks at me.
“You don’t have any yet. Here, take mine.” She shoves it into my hands and I can’t resist but to sip from where her lips had just been. The idea of it makes me hard again, as well as the memory of her kiss from the night before.
I hand her the cup back. “I can wait,” I tell her. “You go ahead.”
She stares at me for a moment, her grayish eyes pensive.
“I’m sorry I kissed you last night,” she says apologetically. I stare at her and can’t help but smile. She does look sorry.
“I’m not,” I assure her.
She smiles a soft, sleepy smile and I find it endearing.
“Evangeline,” I begin. “I think you should come stay at Chessarae. You’re out here all alone and you’re not going to rest easy that way. I’ve got dozens of guest rooms. You can have your pick. It would make me feel better.”
She looks doubtful and starts to shake her head, but I can see the temptation on her face. She does want to, which means that she is really afraid here. She’s a very independent person so I know that she must be incredibly nervous to even consider it.
“It’s not an imposition at all,” I tell her. “Truly.”
She’s quiet for a moment and then she nods.
“Thank you. Maybe I will take you up on that, for just a little while, until they find whoever is doing this. This whole thing has shaken me more than I thought.”
“It would shake up anyone,” I tell her again and she nods.
“Thank you.”
She leaves to get dressed and I assume to pack a bag and I am left with doubts and trepidation of my own. Why did I do that? It’s going to make my life so much more difficult as I worry about her safety in my home.
I’ll have to be even more careful, more so than I’ve ever been.
But it seems to be time for that, anyway.
Chapter Seventeen
Eva
I wasn’t going to accept.
But just as I was ready to say the words, No, thank you, visions of my nightmares came back to me, the horrible snakes coming from Annica’s rotting mouth and then Christopher’s and I was saying yes instead.
It was as much of a surprise to me as it was to Luca, but it was a relief to me as well. That was surprising too. I hadn’t realized how scared I had been. The idea of being at Chessarae, behind the stone walls that look so impenetrable and strong, is comforting.
I pack a bag and emerge back out into the living room.
Luca is casually waiting for me, sipping a cup of coffee and browsing on his phone.
“Adrian will be here momentarily with the car,” he tells me. “Chessarae is within jogging distance, but I thought it would be easier to drive with your bag.”
He smiles now, a gracious host and I smile back.
“Thank you again,” I tell him. “I feel a little silly.”
He frowns. “Never feel silly,” he tells me. “You’re being smart, not silly.”
“Okay.”
The crunch of tires on gravel outside distracts me, followed by a soft knock on the door. I answer it, to find Adrian standing on my stoop. He is surprised to be picking Luca up from my house, I know. His expression is polite, but curious. Perhaps even slightly dismayed. I almost want to explain, to tell him that Luca and I didn’t do anything inappropriate together, but I don’t. Luca and I are adults. Even if we had done something, it wouldn’t be inappropriate. So instead, I smile.
“Good morning, Adrian. Thank you for coming to pick us up.”
He nods, still studying me curiously. “You’re welcome. It’s my job.”
He takes my bag and puts it in the trunk, then returns to the house.
“Luca? Are you coming as well?”
Luca turns from where he is standing at the back windows, his face back to being impassive and curt. The gentleness that I’d seen last night is gone. I find that I miss it already, but I intend to not show it. He can do what he wishes.
“Of course,” Luca answers.
We all slide into the Mercedes and are on our way to Chessarae before I even know it.
A bit later, as we pull through the gates and up the drive, Luca turns to me.
“You, of course, will have full use of the property while you are here. Do you ride?”
I look at him. “Horses? I used to when I was a child.”
He smiles. “We have a stable, if you’d like to take it up again. We also have a private beach. Feel free to use it. If you need anything at all, just ask a staff member. Or me.”
We walk into the house and he instructs a maid to take me to a bedroom. He tells her the one that he wants me to use, then turns to me.
“I must excuse myself. I have a conference call. But do settle in and make yourself at home. Would you join me in the dining room for dinner? I eat at 7:00.”
I nod. “Of course.”
He smiles and the room is brightened.
“I’ll see you then.”
And he’s gone. I’m left staring at the maid, who stares back at me. It is clear that she is shocked by this turn of events and I’m left to assume that Chessarae doesn’t receive many guests.
The maid leads me through the twists and turns of the enormous house, up a grand staircase and through a long hallway. She glances sideways at me.
“This is the family’s wing,” she tells me. “Mr. Minaldi and his brothers have bedrooms down this hall. Yours will be just up the hall from his.”
I gulp. It’s clear she thinks that I will enjoy that fact, maybe even find it convenient. She clearly thinks that he and I have a more than friendly relationship. I suppose that’s an understandable assumption, since he rarely has company.
“It’s kind of him to do this,” I tell her. “He took pity on me last night. I was afraid to be alone after these killings.”
The maid nods solemnly. “Yes. It’s horrible. I can’t believe it’s happening, actually. Not here in Malta.”
She comes to a stop outside of a closed door and then opens it, gesturing me inside. I am amazed at the luxury contained within. It’s not just a bedroom. It appears to be a suite.
The maid turns to me. “There‘s a living room, sitting room, bathroom and dressing room in here. Mr. Minaldi is just three doors down. If you need anything at all, please just let one of us know.”
And she turns around and leaves. She isn’t quick to warm up to people, I decide. But I am too distracted by my lavish quarters to be bothered. The bed is enormous and cushiony, covered in a fluffy pillows and a soft duvet. The furniture is expensive and heavy and the art hanging on the walls is priceless. In contrast to the heavy, dark furniture, the lamps have crystal accents and there are ornate and feminine chandeliers hanging throughout the rooms, even over the sunken marble bathtub. It’s beautiful.
I venture back out into the bedroom and find that I have a balcony there. I stand at the rail, staring at the sea below.
I can’t believe the view. It is beautiful, as well.
There is nothing but sea for miles and miles.
It is apparent to me once again how secluded and quiet Chessarae is. It’s near enough to town that Luca can jog, but it feels like it is in its own universe.
From the balcony, I have a beautiful view of the gardens, as well. There is an intricate English Maze below and English gardens to the left and
right. A gardener is hard at work pruning one of the many rose bushes and I watch him humming to the music in his earbuds.
To my far right, I can see where the jagged horizon forms into cliffs. The cliffs rise dramatically above the seascape, some one hundred feet or so. Below that, the sea crashes with fierce ferocity against the rocks. This is a place of both incredible beauty and grace, but also natural danger. It’s a beautiful and delicate balance, something that I will forever associate with Chessarae.
As I stare absently out to sea, a movement from below, from the corner of my periphery, catches my attention. I look, only to find Melina running through the gardens. She is in her customary white dressing gown and it is streaming behind her in the breeze, along with her long dark hair. She doesn’t have a gray hair on her head. And she should not be out of her rooms.
I turn at once and run for the ground floor. It takes me several minutes to burst out from the back of the house and to spill out into the gardens. I look around, but there is no sign of her. So I take off for in the direction I last saw her running in.
Toward the cliffs.
It doesn’t take me long to weave through the gardens and to emerge on the rocky hillscape. As I do, I find Sophia pleading with Melina as she backs ever closer to the edge of the dangerous cliff. My pulse is racing and I can’t breathe, but I rocket to where Sophia is standing.
Melina is having a bad day, that much is apparent. Her eyes are crazed, her hair is unkempt and she is babbling in crazy gibberish.
“Melina?” I call. “What are you doing?” I hold onto Sophia’s arm to prevent her from inadvertently pushing Melina even further toward the edge.
Melina narrows her eyes.
“Who are you?” she calls back suspiciously. I’m not surprised. Even though I’ve met with her four times thus far, she doesn’t know me now. But that is normal for her particular stage of psychosis. Some days she has known me, others she has not.
“My name is Evangeline Talbot,” I tell her, as though we’re meeting for the first time. “I couldn’t help but see you running and I was wondering if I could be of any assistance?”
I hear Sophia on her cell phone behind me, but I don’t take the time to listen.
Melina’s eyes are still crazily out of focus.
“I don’t think you can,” she answers back, her voice thin and frail. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Here at Chessarae?” I ask. “This is your home and it is very, very beautiful. You’re so fortunate to have such a beautiful home.”
Melina glares at me. “You have no idea,” she spits. “Chessarae is evil, just like everyone who lives here.”
I take one step toward her, but as I do, she takes one step back. She is only a few dangerous feet from the edge now. I freeze, my hand reaching out to her. The wind is strong up here and it whips violently around us. Melina’s gown is wrapped around her legs and our hair is blown into our faces.
“Come in to me,” I urge her. “I’d love to talk with you about why you think Chessarae is evil, Mrs. Minaldi.”
“I can’t tell you,” she whimpers. “I can’t tell anyone. But I can end my involvement in it. And I will. I’m going to end it today.”
She backs toward the cliff, one more step.
My heart stops because I know that she wants to jump.
“Don’t,” I call out. “Please, Melina.”
She sinks down to her heels, rocking back and forth. Her dressing gown is spread around her, but her eyes are focused on me. I know she will lunge backward if I move at all.
“You don’t understand,” she whispers. “You don’t understand.”
“Then tell me,” I urge. “Make me understand, Melina. I can help.”
She laughs now, a haunting and horrible laugh. I know I will never forget the sound. “You have no idea,” she tells me. “You can’t help. No one can.”
I hear rustling from behind and I turn to see Luca and Adrian approaching us cautiously. Luca looks stricken, Adrian is resigned. They are accustomed to this behavior. But they can see, right now, the very real danger Melina Minaldi is in. In an altered psychotic state, she has no logical bearing on where she is.
“How did she get out?” I hear Luca asking Sophia.
“She attacked me,” Sophia answered. “While I was unlocking the door. She ran out and I couldn’t stop her. I can’t believe how fast she is.”
“Adrian,” I call. He approaches.
“Yes?”
“Can you run into her rooms and bring me back a syringe and the sedative bottle in her medicine cabinet?”
“Absolutely.”
And he’s gone. Melina looks at me suspiciously.
“What are you talking about? Where is the handsome one going?”
If this was any other time, I would have smiled at her description. Adrian is handsome, but not nearly as handsome as Luca.
“Adrian is going back to the house, Melina,” I tell her. “It’s dangerous out here on the cliffs. You don’t want anyone to get hurt, do you?”
She studies me for a moment, then shrugs.
“I didn’t invite anyone out here with me,” she says matter-of-factly. “You all followed me. I can’t control your behavior.”
She is laughably logical even in the middle of her lunacy.
We are silent for a moment as I wait for Adrian to return. I don’t want to startle her until we are ready to act.
“Why are you here?” Melina asks. “Why are you with him?”
The malice in her tone as she refers to Luca is astounding and I can’t wrap my mind around it. I can’t fathom why she hates her own son as much as she appears to. So I ask. She looks surprised by my question.
“My son is evil,” she tells me. “He is the devil’s, not mine. I should have had his nurse drown him when he was an infant.”
Luca inhales sharply from behind me and I ache to comfort him. The way she speaks of him is horrible, but dementia is often this way. The affected turn on those who they love. It is a tragic disease.
“I hardly believe your son is evil,” I told her. “Surely you’re mistaken.”
She laughs again.
“If you believe that, you’ll soon be dead with the others.”
My heart seems to freeze.
I look at her face and she is so convinced of her words. I glance back at Luca and he is impassive once again. He is so very good at covering up his emotions, but I’ve decided that it might just be the way he copes. It is a defense mechanism.
Adrian is back and running up behind us. He hands me the sedative and I turn, concealing my hands as I draw the liquid into the syringe. I tap it, then put it behind my back as I face Melina once more.
“Luca,” I murmur quietly. “Go to the right.”
He looks, then nods, then tells Adrian to go to the left. I focus on keeping Melina’s attention on me. I speak to her soothingly, making her focus on my face and my words.
Within a minute, Luca and Adrian rush her from each side.
She struggles within their arms, but I am there within a few seconds, administering a strong sedative to calm her. Her eyes flutter closed as they keep her restrained.
Luca scoops her into his arms and I accompany him as he carries her back to her suite. Her limp feet dangle over the side of his arm and she looks as small as a child.
He puts her on her bed, where we leave her with Sophia.
As Luca locks the door behind us, he thanks me.
“She could’ve died today,” he says. “You stopped her. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I answer, staring him in the eye.
He shows no sign of distress about the incident, about the way his mother feels about him. It breaks my heart that he buries his feelings in such a way. I know that if I were able to help him deal with the feelings, he would feel so much better. So I tell him that.
He smiles a grim smile and for a flickering, fleeting moment, I see something in his eyes, something vulnerable. And then i
t is gone.
“I think I owe you an explanation,” he tells me instead of agreeing. “I have an engagement tonight, but I’d like to sit down with you tomorrow. It’s the least I can do, since you are living in my home.”
I am surprised at his sudden willingness to talk to me, but I don’t question it. I nod instead.
“Of course.”
He smiles and my heart flutters. He is more handsome than any one man has the right to be.
“Until tomorrow.”
And he walks away. His spicy cologne lingers in the hall behind him.
Chapter Eighteen
At 7:00 p.m., I find myself alone in the large formal dining room.
After a moment, Adrian enters. I startle, thinking for a moment that he is Luca. I try to hide my disappointment when I realize that he’s not.
“Eve, Luca has been detained on a conference call. He wants you to go ahead and dine without him.”
I glance at the long, daunting table. Alone.
“Do you want to join me? I could use some company.”
But Adrian is already shaking his head. “I cannot, bella mia. I’m sorry. But it is tradition. Staff cannot eat in here.”
I find it strange that as close as Luca and Adrian are, he hasn’t bucked this tradition. But it is tradition here, and I must respect that. So I smile and Adrian ducks back out of the room.
When I am alone again, the quiet in this enormous room is smothering.
My fingers drum restlessly on the gleaming mahogany tabletop as I wait for the first course, a chilled cucumber bisque. It is garnished with shaved cucumber rinds and looks almost too beautiful to eat. I thank the butler who delivers it, then lift a spoonful to my lips. It is as delicious as it is beautiful.
I wish that Luca was here so that I could talk to him about the things that his mother said earlier, the hurtful things that I know must have crushed him. It worries me that he has continually borne the brunt of her delusions and anger without ever having an outlet to process those feelings. I know we’ll discuss it tomorrow, but I’m impatient to try and help him. In my head, I see the little boy that Luca must have been at one time and it saddens me. This is not a good atmosphere to have grown up in.
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