Ree turned to glance back.
“Sometimes it’s good to have friends in high places,” Hayden said and then he laughed as her eyes widened because he didn’t sound like Hayden at all.
He pulled to the curb in front of a large white house and killed the engine and lights. Ree had no idea where they were. She’d drifted off sometime after they’d crossed the Ravenel Bridge. She thought they might be on one of the islands.
“How are you feeling?” Hayden asked.
“Better,” she managed to say.
“Think you can walk?”
“I can try. Where are we?”
His eyes were nearly black in the dark. “Do you trust me?”
Tricky question. Ree couldn’t forget that medallion and all that it implied. On the other hand, he had rescued her from a possible lobotomy.
“I trust you,” she finally said.
He pulled her to him, kissed her hard on the lips, then got out and came around to open her door. Taking her arm, he guided her through the gate and around the house to a deck. Ree could hear water lapping at a nearby pier and she could taste brine in the breeze.
They climbed the stairs, and Hayden put a finger to his lips as voices drifted through an open door. Ree could see two men inside—Detective Devlin and Dr. Farrante. By the way Farrante reclined with an elbow on the mantel, Ree thought the house belonged to him.
Taking out his phone, Hayden pressed a number. Inside, Detective Devlin’s phone rang. As he glanced at the screen, he said slowly, “Are you sure you don’t want to change your story? You still maintain you’ve had no contact with Ree Hutchins?”
Dr. Farrante flicked a piece of lint from his jacket. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I barely know who the woman is.”
“Well, let me refresh your memory, then.”
At his nod, Hayden took Ree’s elbow and guided her through the door.
The color drained from Farrante’s face when he saw her, but he rallied almost instantly. “I don’t know what she’s been telling you, but this young woman is completely unstable.”
“Nicholas Farrante, you’re under arrest for the false imprisonment of Reanna Hutchins. You have the right to remain silent…”
What happened next would always remain a blur for Ree. One moment Detective Devlin had reached for the cuffs attached to his belt, and in the next instant, Farrante had whipped out a weapon he’d had concealed somewhere on the mantel. A shot rang out and Hayden stumbled back, clutching his arm. Ree screamed. Devlin had a bead on Farrante, but by this time, he’d grabbed Ree about the throat, hauled her up against him and stuck the gun to her temple.
“Drop it.”
Detective Devlin’s gun clattered to the floor.
Inch by inch, Farrante backed Ree to the door as Hayden struggled to his feet. Blood ran down his arm and dripped off his fingertips. He had such unfettered rage in his eyes, he didn’t look like Hayden at all. For a moment, Ree thought…
“Don’t try it,” Farrante warned.
After all the drugs he’d pumped into her, he must not have thought Ree had any fight left in her. He loosened his grip as they reached the deck and she tried to wrench free, catching him completely off guard. She kicked at his legs and he stumbled back, teetering on the edge for what seemed an eternity. Then Hayden rushed past her and she heard the impact as he made contact with Farrante. He couldn’t have known that Farrante still held her arm. As they crashed down the stairs, Ree was jerked off her feet.
She hit the ground and lay dazed for a moment. When her vision cleared, she saw Hayden with Farrante’s gun. He held it close to his leg where Detective Devlin couldn’t see it. Oh, dear Lord…
Their gazes collided and Ree thought, that’s not him! That’s not Hayden!
“Don’t do it,” she whispered.
He merely smiled.
The detective came down the stairs and knelt beside the doctor’s prone body. “He’s dead. His neck’s broken.”
Ree saw a shadow fleet across Hayden’s face and he shuddered, as if something very cold had just touched his soul. The gun dropped to the ground as his gaze clung to hers.
Ilsa had her revenge.
Amelia
Violet Tisdale was buried in the hospital cemetery, in a grave next to her mother’s. The headstone that marked Ilsa’s final resting place was shrouded in moss and lichen, and Ree had asked Amelia Gray how to clean it. The restorer had volunteered to take care of it after the service, mostly, Ree figured, because she didn’t trust the old stone to an amateur.
Besides the minister, there were only four mourners at the service—Ree, Hayden, Trudy and John Devlin. If the enigmatic police detective had noticed Hayden’s strange behavior at the scene of Dr. Farrante’s death, he had decided to turn a blind eye.
According to Detective Devlin, he’d gotten wind of Farrante’s scheme through Trudy’s cousin and this, coupled with Hayden’s rather violent insistence that Ree was in danger, had led him to confront Farrante—partly to catch him off guard and partly to keep him away from the hospital until Hayden could whisk Ree to safety. It had all been kept hush-hush because of Dr. Farrante’s powerful allies in the Order.
Ree still wasn’t sure how she felt about Hayden’s legacy. The Order had done some very bad things in the past, but none of that had anything to do with him. And besides, she glanced at his bandaged arm. He’d proven his allegiance when he’d gone against Farrante to save her.
As for ghosts…Ree still wanted to believe that everything could somehow be explained away. But for as long as she lived, she knew she would never forget the look on Hayden’s face at the moment of Dr. Farrante’s death.
She looked up and found him staring down at her. His eyes were clear and guileless, shadowed with only a tinge of something she would never understand. He took her hand and locked his fingers with hers.
Ree shivered. Maybe there were some things she didn’t need to understand.
Amelia hadn’t expected it to take so long, but the old granite marker was in very bad shape. By the time she finished, twilight had fallen. It was that time of day when the air cooled, the shadows deepened and the veil between this world and the next thinned.
From the corner of her eye, she saw them. She didn’t turn, of course. It was dangerous to look directly at them.
She busied herself packing up her tools, but every now and then, she caught a glimpse from her periphery. There were two of them. A young woman in a blue dress and a little girl of about seven. The child wore white and in one hand, she clutched a nosegay of violets.
They were in the cemetery one moment, gone the next.
Amelia didn’t see them again until she was leaving. They were at the end of the drive, walking hand in hand through the gates. The young woman turned to stare, but Amelia didn’t make eye contact. Nor did she glance in her rearview mirror. As she merged with the early evening traffic her thoughts had already turned to her next project. Oak Grove Cemetery.
About the Author
Amelia Gray’s story begins with THE RESTORER, available May 2011 wherever MIRA books are sold. THE GRAVEYARD QUEEN SERIES continues with THE KINGDOM (November 2011) and THE PROPHET (May 2012) by Amanda Stevens.
Amanda Stevens is a bestselling author of more than thirty novels of romantic suspense. In addition to being a Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist, she is also a recipient of awards for Career Achievement in Romantic/Mystery and Career Achievement in Romantic/Suspense from RT Book Reviews magazine. She currently resides in Texas. To find out more about past, present and future projects, please visit her Web site at www.amandastevens.com.
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The Abandoned (the graveyard queen series) Page 8
