Deadly Inheritance: A Romantic Suspense Read online

  He’d left her when she needed him—wanted him—most.

  “Oh, Gabe,” she whispered into her pillow as she rubbed the sting from her eyes.

  Then, out of the darkness came a stifled scream and a thud. She sat up stiffly to listen. Silence.

  Slowly, the misty chill returned, curling over the floor and up over the foot of her bed, wafting toward her as she gripped the blanket with icy fingers.

  It wasn’t over for the night. It had just begun.

  Chapter Ten

  Gabe and Frank arrived at Autumn Hill with a truckload of lumber and bag of tools a little after ten in the morning. Frank’s taciturn assistant, Johnny Heck, had driven them, and after a moment’s consideration, parked a few yards away from a police SUV. Emergency vehicles filled the area in front of the house, including an ambulance.

  A temporary metal bridge filled the gap over the moat and men and women in uniform were striding back and forth over it, their footsteps clanging over the steel. A man and a woman pushed a gurney supporting a black plastic bag shaped like a human being over the ramp.

  Gabe watched it, feeling sick. They were too late. He gripped the armrest, feeling as if the air had been kicked out of his lungs.

  I failed her—I should have come back last night.

  “That doesn’t look good,” Frank said at last.

  Gabe swung out of the truck without answering, eyes focused on the body bag. Nora—if that was Nora…

  “Gabe, wait.” Frank opened his door and waved urgently at his assistant. “It would be best if I accompanied you.”

  Heck, a big, muscular man with short, gray-blond hair and no discernable sense of humor, eased out and strode to the rear of the vehicle to unhook the wheelchair for Frank.

  “I can handle it,” Gabe threw over his shoulder as he eyed the black bag, trying to convince himself that the body inside was too big to be Nora. The emergency workers slammed the doors of the ambulance shut, blocking his view. He stifled the urge to run over and unzip the bag—see the pale, dead face of whoever was inside. He shook his head. Stay on track. “If Johnny can help me unload the lumber, you can leave.”

  “No. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” Frank said. He gripped Heck’s wide shoulder as his assistant helped him into his wheelchair.

  Despite the motor on the wheelchair, Heck gripped the two handles and turned the chair around to face Autumn Hill. Whatever he was thinking about the situation, he kept his mouth shut and his face carefully blank.

  Heck turned Frank’s wheelchair toward the house. As Frank’s chair whirred up the walkway, Heck and Gabe followed. Let the lawyer handle the officials. He was likely to obtain more information than Gabe ever would.

  The emergency personnel gave them odd looks as they crossed the pair of hinged metal plates that formed the bridge, but no one stopped them. It wasn’t until they had entered the hallway that a tall, thin man in a suit stepped in front of them to block their way.

  “Sorry, folks, but you can’t come in here.” He studied them briefly with pale blue eyes. With his narrow bald head and gaunt appearance, he looked like a walking pool cue.

  “I’m Frank Leonard, the attorney for the James family,” Frank announced. “Behind me is my assistant, Johnny Heck, and Gabriel O’Brien, a resident of Autumn Hill. May I ask what is going on?”

  “You can ask all you want,” the tall man drawled. He stared at Gabe with interest, his sharp eyes taking in the bandage on Gabe’s forehead and his stiffly upright posture. “You live here?”

  Gabe nodded.

  “You a member of the James family?”

  “I’m with Nora James. Who are you?”

  “Detective Lyle Gerhardt. Were you here last night?” the detective’s attitude reminded Gabe so much of Sarah that he felt like he was talking to her doppelgänger.

  “No. I was in the hospital. Auto accident,” Gabe replied tersely. “What happened? What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry to say there was a death in the family.”

  The bottom fell out of Gabe’s stomach. Again. “Who?”

  “A Mr. Michael James. Know him?”

  “I met him once, yesterday, when I arrived with Nora James.” Gabe’s response was more abrupt than he intended, but he could barely keep from smiling in relief.

  “When you arrived,” Gerhardt repeated. He smiled wryly at Frank. “So you are not a resident.”

  “Ms. James and Mr. O’Brien are both residents of Autumn Hill for the next two weeks, per the terms of Archibald James’ will. I believe we discussed this before, Detective, after the death of Mr. Archibald James. They are here, and they must stay here, so there is no point in arguing.”

  “Autumn Hill is a crime scene.” Gerhardt eyed the lawyer coolly. “Twice over. I think it would be better for the family if they left. Safer.”

  “I agree, but that doesn’t change the terms of the will. If the remaining relatives of Mr. James wish to remain, it would be a gross miscarriage of justice to force them to vacate the premises and thereby forfeit their rights to the properties and goods left by the deceased. We will, however, promise not to enter any room, or rooms, you wish to secure as part of your crime scene. That is the best accommodation we can make.” He smiled genially. “After all, if something unfortunate happens at a hotel, you don’t close the entire hotel. I suggest you treat Autumn Hill as a small, private hotel.”

  “And if I object,” Gerhardt’s mouth twisted, “you’ll have a little chat with your friend, Judge Neely. Again.”

  Frank laughed. “I doubt I could convince the judge to take any action that wasn’t the legal and proper one. Are we agreed, then?”

  “Don’t go in the rooms sealed with yellow tape,” Gerhardt said, directing his words to Gabe.

  “Where is Ms. Nora James?” Gabe asked. He had to see her, make sure she was unharmed.

  “With the rest of them.” Gerhardt jerked his head to the left. Before Gabe could go, he shifted to block the door. “I’d like to talk to you about your accident, Mr. O’Brien.”

  “Any time.” Gabe pushed past him, only to have the detective grab his arm.

  “Now would do. In that room they call the den.”

  Gabe frowned at him, his thoughts on Nora. Gerhardt said she was unharmed, but Gabe needed to see her, touch her, to know for himself.

  “Perhaps I should go with you,” Frank said.

  Heck edged between the lawyer and the detective as if to preempt any objection from the detective to Frank’s decision to accompany him.

  “Suit yourself.” Gerhardt’s affability surprised Gabe. “You think you need a lawyer, bring him.” He grinned. “You could do worse than old Leonard.”

  Old Leonard? As far as Gabe could tell, despite Leonard’s receding hairline, the lawyer was barely forty, and the detective had to be a good ten years, or more, older.

  “It’s fine. I won’t need one.” Gabe caught Frank’s gaze. “But if Mr. Leonard wants to join us, I won’t object.”

  Frank nodded and gestured for Heck to walk next to his wheelchair as he whirred after Gerhardt in the direction of the den.

  Gabe cast a glance at the dining room and trailed after the other men. He should check on Nora. She had to be frightened, upset. He hesitated at the entrance to the den, but when Gerhardt glanced at him and arched his brows, he entered. Heck and Gerhardt followed Leonard to a long, sectional sofa near the windows. Two of them took seats while Frank faced them in his wheelchair.

  “How did Michael James die?” Gabe sat on a section at right angles to Gerhardt.

  “The coroner hasn’t made his report, yet,” Gerhardt hedged.

  “What’s your best guess?”

  “That is a police matter.” He rubbed his chin. “But as the others will tell you, he may have been shot.”

  “Shot?” Frank straightened, his hands gripping the armrests of his wheelchair. “Like Archibald James?”

  “The circumstances seem similar.”

  “The door was locked,
and no weapon was found?” Frank probed.

  “I’m not here to satisfy your curiosity,” Gerhardt answered mildly. “Now, Mr. O’Brien, about this accident of yours—what exactly happened?”

  “The brakes failed.”

  Gerhardt stared at him. He stared back. Gerhardt smiled wryly and glanced at a small, black notepad he’d propped on his knee and flipped open. “The brake line was cut. Is that what you meant by failed?”

  “Foot went to the floor, so yeah. That’s about it.” Someone had wanted him out of the way while he, or she, killed Mike James. Or else his absence was just an opportunity the killer couldn’t pass up.

  Whoever had sabotaged his brakes couldn’t have known when Gabe would use his vehicle next, so it would be difficult to use that as part of another plan.

  “How did you manage to survive unscathed?”

  Gabe grinned ruefully. “It wasn’t the most brilliant move, but I swung the truck around in a circle to dump some of the momentum. If I had to crash into a tree, I wanted to crash on the passenger’s side—not head on or on the driver’s side.”

  “Good choice. It obviously worked.” Gerhardt stared at the notepad, his pen poised in his right hand, but Gabe had the sneaking suspicion that the page was blank, and the detective was just using the gesture as a way to gain time and organize his thoughts. “Did anything happen before you got into your vehicle? Any arguments?”

  “No. We got here—”

  “We?”

  “I drove Nora James here,” Gabe explained, already tired of Gerhardt’s questions. “We ate lunch, and I left on some errands. Nora wanted pizza, and I wanted some wood or metal plates to fix the drawbridge.”

  “Tell me about the drawbridge.”

  “It collapsed when Nora tried to cross it.” Gabe frowned, feeling his anger rise at the memory. “It was sabotaged. You can see for yourself if you look.”

  Gerhardt nodded. “We do occasionally do our jobs. Did you have any suspicions about who might have tried to harm Ms. James?”

  “Harm her? He tried to kill her!” Gabe’s muscles tensed, and he fisted his hands. He knew that Gerhardt was being deliberately nonchalant, but the detective’s unconcern still annoyed him. He hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen Nora disappear beneath the surface of that foul, green water.

  “He?”

  “Or she—whoever did it.”

  “Nasty. Ms. James was lucky you were there to pull her out.”

  “She climbed out,” Gabe said between clenched teeth. “On her own. Using the chain.”

  “Oh?” Gerhardt glanced at him with raised brows.

  “Yes.”

  “Resourceful woman,” Gerhardt said.

  “I don’t know how much more I can tell you. I was in the hospital last night, and I don’t know the rest of the family very well. I met them during lunch before I left. If you don’t mind, I’d like to see Nora.”

  “Just one or two more questions, if your lawyer doesn’t object.”

  Frank grinned and waved for him to continue.

  “You met the rest of the family during lunch. What was your impression of them?”

  Gabe shrugged. “None of them struck me as murderers, if that’s why you mean.” He frowned. “There is a handyman, Don Bain.”

  “Bain? We questioned him.” Gerhardt grimaced. “Not the most mechanically minded. Doesn’t even have a driver’s license. Can barely keep what little lawn there is cut.”

  “You’ve checked him out?”

  Gerhardt studied him.

  “Fine.” Gabe waved off the question. “So you’ve looked into his background already.”

  “Were there any arguments?” Gerhardt asked. “Did Michael James argue with anyone?”

  “They were a typical family. There was a little bickering, but nothing that appeared too serious. If anything, Mike seemed to take the part of the family peacemaker. He’s the last one I would have expected to be killed. Other than Nora, of course.”

  “Really?” A flash of interest lit Gerhardt’s eyes. “Who would you have identified as the victim, if I hadn’t told you?”

  “Andrew. Or Candace.”

  “Why one of those two?”

  “They were the least welcoming, and I gathered from some of the comments that Drew spent a lot of time here, trying to get Archie to lend him some money. Candy was kind of bitter. Nothing specific.” Gabe looked at the door, wanting to end the interview.

  “What about Ms. Kirsty Stevens?”

  “Just a kid.” Gabe shrugged. “Confused. Shy.”

  “She’s twenty-five, not exactly a child,” Gerhardt said.

  “She seems a lot younger,” Gabe replied coolly, refusing to let Gerhardt manipulate him. He stood slowly and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “I’m sorry, but I want to talk to Nora. Where is she?”

  “We asked them to remain in the kitchen,” Gerhardt said. A frown crimped his brows as he watched him. “There are a few more points—”

  “I’ll be around if you have any other questions for me.”

  “I’m sure we’ll talk again.” Gerhardt stood and handed Gabe a business card with a smile. “You’re about the only uninvolved witness with a solid alibi. If you see or remember anything, give me a call.”

  Gabe thrust the card into his back pocket and strode out of the den, ignoring the sharp pain in his ribs. Then he paused. Where was the kitchen? Near the dining room. He walked in that direction and had just passed the large, oval dining room table when Nora came into the room through the opposite doorway.

  “Gabe!” She stumbled mid-stride and caught the back of one of the chairs. “Where have you been? What happened to you?”

  Her face was pale, and there were circles around her soft brown eyes. She looked tired and worried, but when she smiled at him, her face lit up.

  He felt a surge of answering relief and joy at the sight of her. He’d never been so relieved to see a woman in his life.

  “Are you all right?” He moved toward her and opened his arms when she flung herself against his chest. He flinched. But despite the catch in his breathing and pain flaring along his rib cage, he held her for a minute, the clean scent of her hair and warmth of her body filling his senses.

  He felt her nod and glanced down into her beautiful face. The urge to kiss her nearly overwhelmed him.

  “I was so worried.” She tapped him lightly below the collar bone with one fist, her eyes reflecting the memory of her anxiety. “I needed you last night! Where were you? What happened?”

  She had needed him. His first exultant reaction was to grin like an idiot and hug her tighter. Then, the word “need” echoed in his ears like a deep warning bell. Had she been frightened, or was it something else? He shifted restlessly. The pleasure he’d felt froze and cracked.

  “I had an accident—”

  “An accident? Is that why you look like you’ve been in a fight?” She stared up at him and gently touched the bandage on his forehead. “What happened?”

  “Car trouble, and I’m fine. Just sore ribs and this.” He touched his forehead briefly.

  “Car trouble—is your truck okay?” A nervous smile trembled on her lips. “I know how much that vehicle means to you.”

  He didn’t want to talk about his truck. It was totaled, no point in discussing it.

  “I haven’t assessed the damage yet.” Grabbing her arm, he glanced around and guided her toward the hall. “Let’s go up to your room.”

  “I don’t know if we can.” She kept up with him with little running footsteps. “The police were up there, they told us to wait in the kitchen. I was just coming to see if they needed anything. Did you meet Detective Gerhardt?”

  “I talked to him.” He paused at the foot of the staircase. Several technicians carrying a variety of bags were descending. “Would it be all right for Miss James to go to her bedroom?”

  The techs looked at each other before the closest one answered, “Better not. Sorry, but until Detective Gerhardt says it’s okay,
we can’t give you permission to go up there.”

  “Sure.” Gabe glanced around. He didn’t know the house well enough to identify another private room. “How about a walk? Outside?”

  Nora stared at him as if he’d lost his mind when he steered her toward the front door. “Isn’t it cold? My jacket is in my room.”

  He’d forgotten that he still wore his lined denim jacket. He dragged it off and draped it over her slim shoulders. “Come on.”

  “What about you?” She trotted along next to him, working her arms into the long sleeves.

  He grinned. “I’ve got enough bandages wrapped around my chest to keep me warm.”

  Despite a flurry of questions, he refused to answer until they were several yards away from the house. A narrow footpath led around the corner, through thick, overgrown azaleas to a small gazebo. The white paint was peeling, and there was evidence of rot and termites around the base, but the graying steps and floor appeared sound enough.

  “We can sit here,” Nora said, patting one of the warped, gray benches. “You don’t look like you should be walking around too much.” She stretched out a hand toward his face, but he drew back before she touched him. “That black eye has got to hurt.”

  He sat down next to her, like a stray dog unsure of its welcome. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

  “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” She flicked a quick, awkward glance at him. A flush colored her cheeks. When he shook his head, her blush deepened and she stared at the floor as she asked, “Are you married?”

  “No.” He almost laughed, but managed to choke his reaction back even though it made his ribs ache again. Safe ground. Or safer.

  “I was worried that your wife might be upset if you stayed, considering what happened,” she explained hastily.

  “No. No one is going to show up, calling for my scalp. What about you? Husband? Significant other?”

  She laughed. “No, no one.” When she caught his curious gaze, she flushed and said in slightly bitter tones, “Not a lot of men like to see their date with her arms stuck up some cow’s rear end, trying to turn a badly positioned calf during a delivery. It’s not exactly romantic, if you know what I mean. The reality of a vet’s job is not exactly all cute little kittens and puppies.”