“Because she didn’t know! She—”
“Then she ran off, thinking she could escape.” A wicked smile crossed Philip’s face, freezing my words. “But my father followed her, made life hell for her. He haunted her, from Wisconsin to Colorado to California. I know, because my father told me everything.” He sounded proud. “You know how kids get bedtime stories? That was my bedtime story—night after night—”
“That’s sick.”
“I loved it. And the best part about it was it was all true. My father promised me he would take me with him when he found her, and we’d get the map back together. It took him a while to trace her, but he finally located her living with her husband and you, hiding in a shack in the Colorado mountains. He made a plan. Had it all figured out. He waited till one evening when your mother was alone with you. Then he came—”
“Stop it! Why are you telling me this?” “You’re the one who wanted to know—who kept digging up the past.” Philip shook me. “Well, now you’re gonna know. Everything.”
My ears roared, but it didn’t block the sound of Philip’s voice. “See, my father was smart. He knew how to get what he wanted. Kidnapping you for ransom of the map would have worked, too, if your fool father hadn’t interfered. He went after my father—chased him on those mountain roads.” Philip’s face twisted. “There was a crash. That’s how you got that scar.”
The roaring in my ears grew louder. I’d known my father had been killed in a crash, but I hadn’t known the circumstances. I could almost hear it now, the screeching tires, the breaking glass—I’d been there! I’d been in that car crash—and survived. How?
Philip, who knew me too well, read my thoughts. “Oh, you came out of it all right—only a few cuts.” He sounded disappointed. “You were thrown from the car. So was I. I wasn’t as lucky as you, but I won’t go into that. I wanted to be there. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
I blinked, stunned.
“That’s right, my father took me along.”
“He must have been crazy,” I whispered.
“My father wasn’t lucky like yours was, either—”
“My father was killed!”
“That’s right. He had it easy.” Philip’s eyes smoldered. Thank goodness he wasn’t looking at me or they could have burnt a hole through me. “My father suffered for years from that accident. And it never should have happened.” The hatred in Philip’s voice intensified. His fingers bit into my arm. “It wouldn’t have happened, if your father hadn’t interfered.”
What warped logic! Philip was actually blaming this on my father, on my mother—and now, I realized, on me.
“I healed, but I watched my father suffer until he died. But I swore to him,” Philip’s eyes swung back to mine, “I swore to him that I would find your mother and make her pay—” He let go of me to smack his fist into his hand.
Seizing my chance, I bolted for the door.
“You can run, but you can’t hide!” Philip laughed. “I’ll find you wherever you go!”
My heart pounded like a frantic war drum. In the rose room, I searched madly for something to defend myself with. Anything hard. Anything heavy. Anything sharp.
The fireplace poker.
But Philip was at my side before I could take hold of it. I let out a cry as he grabbed me and pulled me back onto the balcony. My sandals skidded on the wooden planks as I tried to resist, but he dragged me to the edge and held me pressed against the rail. My head swam. Philip knew I couldn’t take this, but still he rambled on.
“By the time I finally tracked your mother down, she was already dying. Death—” the word came out sounding like a hiss “the only way she could escape . . .” Philip turned his glinting eyes on me, and his voice dropped. “Now you’re the only one left. I’m sorry, Robin,” and I almost thought I heard real regret in his voice. Maybe it was my imagination, but I reached out to it. It was the only hope I had.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“I can’t help it. I told you, I made a promise . . . I promised my father I’d get the map. And I have!” Triumph blazed in his eyes. “And now it’s mine!” His face was so near that his foul breath flooded my nostrils.
I grasped at the rail, desperately trying to avoid Philip’s face, to avoid looking down—both were unbearable. My mother’s written words raced through my mind. You think you know someone . . .
Oh, Mother! We were both so deceived! I wondered if this was how it had happened with her and Christopher. Was I going to fall from the balcony, too, in an “accident”? No! I wouldn’t let it happen!
“Don’t fight it, Robin. You have no choice. You know what I want. Give me the map.” Philip’s voice turned bitter. “You owe me that much at least. After all these years of searching, and it ends up being in your mother’s old house, after all—”
“But don’t you see? That proves she wasn’t holding out on you or your father. She really didn’t know where the map was!”
But it was as if Philip hadn’t even heard me. He wedged me up against the rail—the unsteady rail. Did I hear a creak? I tried to push my weight back on Philip.
“If I give it to you—what then—what about me?” I gasped.
“I can’t take you with me now, can I? You’ve gone and ruined that plan. But I’ve got other plans.” To my great surprise, Philip hauled me off the balcony and into the rose room. He yanked a heavy braided cord from the drapes and seemed to contemplate it. “This should hold you for a while,” he muttered. I thought he was going to tie me up in the bedroom—that I could have borne—but instead he heaved me back out onto the balcony, and I realized the horrible truth. He was going to tie me to the railing.
My heart began shooting pleas to heaven. Through the confusion, I thought I heard something like the sound of a motor. I strained to listen, but my heart was beating so loudly that I couldn’t trust my ears. When I no longer heard the sound, I was afraid my desperation had made me imagine it. Philip certainly hadn’t heard anything; he was too intent on tying my hands to notice anything else.
“There now, aren’t I considerate?” He yanked the rope one last time before standing. “Now you can enjoy the beautiful view.”
“You may know how to talk beautifully,” I said, “but your words are candy-coated poison.” With all my strength, I tugged, trying to pull my hands from their bindings. When they came free, I was so surprised that it took me a moment to scramble to my feet.
Philip cursed and jerked me so roughly that for a second I was airborne and I thought he was going to throw me over the balcony.
“You think you can get rid of me like this?” I gasped. “Just—force me over—another victim for the mansion? And no one will ever know?”
“You shouldn’t give me such dangerous ideas. I might take you seriously . . . not a bad idea. A little messy, maybe, but—”
“It worked for your father, didn’t it?” I dared to say. “He pushed my mother over!”
Philip straightened and the rope dropped to the floor with a thud, but his grip remained tight on my wrists. “That was an accident,” he said sullenly. “He never meant for her to go over. But she wouldn’t listen to him, wouldn’t listen to reason. She was stupid, like you. She struggled with him and the railing broke—”
I shook my head at what hadn’t occurred to me till now. “Then this isn’t the same balcony.” Even in this desperate situation, my mind strove for logic. “The railing would be broken.”
Philip lifted one eyebrow suggestively. “Unless somebody repaired it.”
In preparation for a replay. “Philip,” I pleaded, pausing in my struggle.
“Think. You don’t want to do this to me.” I was trying to reach out to the gentler part of his heart that must exist, somewhere. “You don’t owe revenge to your father. How can you think like that?”
His eyes hesitated, and for a wild second, I believed I was getting through to him. “My uncle knows I’m here with you—I told him on the phone!” It wa
s the wrong thing to say. Philip’s eyes sparked into flames and I lost him.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Robin.” Philip shook his head. “You know what I do to people who double- cross me?”
“If you do anything to me—if they find me—they’ll know—”
“I’ll be long gone by then.” Philip kicked the rope over the edge. “And so will you.”
“Here. Here’s the map!” I yanked the crushed envelope from my pocket. “You can have it! I don’t want it—and how can you even think my mother wanted this thing? Enough to risk her life and her family? She didn’t!” I was almost sobbing. “She just didn’t remember where it was! If she had, she would have given it up long ago—just to be free of the curse of you Rentons. Of—of being hunted all her life!”
And I knew it was true. In that moment, I understood completely the torment my poor mother had suffered. Alone. Because she hadn’t wanted to scare me. That had been her sacrifice. The least I could do was forgive her. I did, and my soul cried to her for forgiveness for not understanding sooner.
Like an animal, Philip snatched the envelope from my hand. For a split second, he forgot me. And that was all I needed.
I broke free with a frantic burst of energy and raced through the doors into the rose room. This time I didn’t hesitate, but ran through the room, into the hall, and onto the landing. Heart in my throat, I was about to race down the stairs when, aghast, I heard footsteps pounding up them in my direction. But how? Philip was behind me.
Then I saw who it was coming up those stairs, and I wanted to fall into his arms. Because it was Justin, and I knew I was finally safe.
Then I felt the arm around my throat.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Get your hands off her, Philip! Have you gone crazy?”
Yes! I wanted to scream. Yes! But the arm around my throat would hardly let me breathe, let alone scream.
“Back off, Justin,” Philip ordered, yanking me away from the stairs. My eyes flew to Justin’s, pleading. He had halted on the steps, yet stood with every muscle tensed and ready.
As if in rewind motion, Philip dragged me back, back through the rose room, back through the glass doors, back onto the balcony. I tasted the salt first, and when I felt the wetness on my cheeks, I realized tears were sliding from my eyes. I blinked fiercely, trying to keep my vision clear. If ever there was a time I needed to stay focused, this was it.
Over my shoulder, I saw a flick of motion. Justin, like a shadow, was following us. Steadily, cautiously, as if he knew what he was doing. This gave me hope, and my brain began to function rationally. Justin is here. That makes two against one. Philip might be winning now, but if Justin and I play this right, we can beat him.
I didn’t ask how or why Justin was here. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I was no longer in this nightmare alone.
“Philip,” Justin’s voice was low, sounding so grim it would have scared me if I weren’t already petrified. “You’ve got what you want . . . now let her go.”
“Ha!” Philip pinned me with his side against the rail while he held the map clutched in his hand. My eyes went to it. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re after, Justin. We’re cousins, after all.”
“Whether we like it or not.”
“The game’s over, Justin. I’ve got your queen.”
“This isn’t chess.”
“You’re right.” Philip’s voice hardened. “It’s treasure hunt. You want the map, too. You’ve been after it all along. Pretending you’re looking out for the girl—Spht!” I flinched as Philip spat his contempt, just missing my foot. “Drop the hero act! You don’t have me fooled. I know you want it as much as I do.”
Justin didn’t reply. His mouth stayed in a straight, hard line while his eyes went to mine. Like they had once before, the first time we met. It was as if I were hearing them ask, Do you trust me?
And this time I answered, Yes.
Justin stood poised and waiting. Like a panther ready to pounce.
I felt Philip’s own body tense against mine. “Well, you can’t have it! The map’s mine. Mine by birthright—so just back off!” Philip motioned violently with his right hand. The hand with the map. “I’m warning you—one step closer and—”
I don’t know how I did it, but I reached forward, snatched the map, and flung my arm over the balcony.
Philip whirled around, fire in his eyes. “Give me that!” he shouted.
Everything happened at once: Philip’s eyes saw only the map, and Justin, taking advantage of the moment, lunged for Philip. In the same second Philip grabbed for the map, I jerked my hand away. Bodies collided against the rail, and the weight was too much for the wood. There was a terrible splintering sound and I felt the rail giving way. All sense of balance disappeared, and my stomach lurched.
I started falling with Philip beside me.
Then suddenly, before I even had a chance to scream, I was being pulled in the opposite direction, back to the glass doors and back to safety . . . as Philip disappeared over the edge with a horrible cry.
* * *
The silence that followed was painful to my ears. It was a thick silence, hanging in the air like a smothering blanket, too heavy to throw off. Relief had not yet registered in my mind. I was trembling, weak and exhausted, and my legs wanted to crumple beneath me. The only thing stopping them was Justin, holding me so tightly in his arms that I could hardly breathe. And all I could think was, Hold me tighter, and never let me go.
His stubbly chin pressed against my cheek, and I welcomed the prickly feel of his unshaven face. Slowly, he released me, but he stayed near. As if by an unspoken understanding, we moved back onto the balcony. I didn’t want to look over the edge, through the jagged remains of wood and the gaping space where the rails had been, to what waited below, but I knew I had to.
Far below, Philip lay deathly still among the grass, flowers and rocks, his body twisted in an unnatural way. Was he alive? I closed my eyes and turned away, and Justin led me back to the glass doors. As he did so, I managed to speak. “We’ll have to go down—”
Maybe it was hearing my voice that made Justin find his own. “I’m so sorry!” When I looked up and saw the pallor of his face, my heart reacted with a strange pang. He rushed on, trying to explain, and all I could do was stand in the doorway staring at him. “I never wanted this to happen! You have to believe me. Philip was the one after the map—”
“I know,” but it came out as a whisper, too soft to hear.
“—when I heard he’d left Lake City, I was afraid he’d gone after it. He always said he would. When I found out there was a daughter, that you were coming to Lorens, I knew I had to get to you before he did—do something—do my best to warn you. I don’t know, at least keep an eye on you—” He ran his hands through his thick hair. A short pencil dropped from behind his ear and I watched it roll over the wooden planks of the balcony and disappear over the edge. I almost giggled.
Justin, still rambling, never noticed. “—I didn’t want to scare you. If I’d only known how serious he was! Oh, Robin. I never thought he’d take it this far, but I shouldn’t have taken the chance! I swear—”
“Don’t,” I interrupted.
For the first time since Philip’s fall, Justin looked directly at me. His face went blank. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t swear.”
For some reason, that broke the tension. We both smiled, and I laughed a nervous laugh.
“Are you all right now, Robin?” Justin asked finally.
“Yes.” Then I saw the envelope, still crushed in my grasp, and I lifted it. Justin’s eyes went to it, and his sudden change of expression alarmed me. “Justin?” I asked cautiously. “What about the map?”
I shouldn’t have asked.
“The map—” Justin snatched the envelope from my hands—“is what caused all this trouble. Don’t think I wanted it—I never did—I still don’t!” he said fiercely. And before I could interject, he wa
s tearing the map to shreds, not even taking it out of the envelope first. I watched the pieces sail off the balcony and scatter into the air . . . hundreds of irretrievable scraps sailing away on the wind.
A spark lit inside me. But it wasn’t a spark of anger. It was nothing like anger. It was relief, thanksgiving, and so much more. I felt as if I could fly right off the balcony. Only I didn’t want to. Because I wanted to stay right where I was. With Justin.
I followed Justin when he turned to go inside. Together, we made our way through the rose room, down the curving staircase, out the window, and around to the rear of the mansion. All this in silence, but it didn’t feel like silence. Too much was going on inside my head.
Stepping out back was like entering another land. An air of survival hung over the garden, simply because it had been thriving for years without human interference. These strange thoughts deserted my mind when I reached the rock garden below the balcony. Seeing the blood-spattered, crushed grass, I let out a strangled cry. Philip was nowhere in sight.
Tearing back through the tangled grass, I reached the front of the mansion. I halted, stunned. Philip’s red BMW was gone.
“No!” I stumbled forward, my thoughts turned wild with disbelief. We couldn’t let Philip escape. I spotted Justin’s Jeep. “We have to go after him! We have to catch—”
“Come on!” Justin grabbed my arm as he ran by. With slamming doors and spinning wheels, we zoomed out of the clearing and onto the dirt road, dust flying.
Neither of us said a word as we raced the roads in pursuit of Philip, our eyes scanning for a glimpse of red. We covered roads and recovered them, drove for what seemed like hours, didn’t want to admit defeat.
“We won’t stop searching,” Justin said finally. “Not unless you say. It’s your call.”
I didn’t answer right away. All this driving had given me time to think, and I was thinking about Philip. Philip speeding at eighty miles an hour. Even if nothing else Philip had told me was true, I believed what he’d said about being free. He had to be free.
Past Suspicion (Christian Romantic Suspense) Page 28
