Deadly Inheritance: A Romantic Suspense Read online

“Appreciate it, ma’am.” The detective was a master at withholding both information and his thoughts. Wry amusement and patience seemed to be the only emotions he allowed to show.

  He asked a few terse questions as he photographed and examined the bed, pillow, and headboard. After taking what seemed like the thousandth picture, he pried the bullet out of the splintered wood and dropped it into a small evidence bag that he carefully annotated. Then he picked up the pillow and placed it in what looked suspiciously like a trash bag and made a note of that, as well.

  No matter how hard Nora tried, she couldn’t get him to reveal his thoughts about the shooting. Although every time she mentioned the mist or the cold, the glint of amusement returned to his eyes.

  And Gabe, well, he just watched everything with his hands shoved into his pockets. He answered the detective’s questions, but didn’t offer any additional information or theories.

  The tension between the two men and their reticence drove her nearly insane. Why couldn’t they just relax and talk like normal human beings?

  When the detective moved toward the door with his bags of evidential booty, Gabe stopped him. “Do you have a blueprint of Autumn Hill?”

  “Blueprint?” Detective Gerhardt’s slow, knowing smile curved his thin mouth. “Looking for secret passages? Hidden rooms?” He shook his head. “We’ve been all over. Measured every room. But you’re welcome to it. It’s on the desk in the study. Now, let me ask you two a favor. Next time someone tries to shoot you, call us. That’s why I posted a man on the premises. Don’t wait until the next day. It looks bad, real bad.”

  He was right, they should have called right away. They might have found some trace, some clue that the killer had had hours to clean away, now.

  “No one was hurt,” Nora said through a tight throat.

  “And that’s good, but call anyway. Right away. ‘Cause you never know if he’ll try again.” Gerhardt’s calm reply made Nora’s stomach clench.

  Even Gabe appeared sheepish as he caught her gaze.

  “Anything else?” Gerhardt asked.

  Nora and Gabe shook their heads and followed the detective down the stairs. Gerhardt split away to secure the evidence he’d collected, while Nora and Gabe went to the study to examine the blueprints.

  Twenty minutes later, Gabe magically unearthed a laser measuring device from his bag, and the two of them spent the rest of the morning checking every room against the blueprint. To Nora’s dismay, the detective was right. There didn’t appear to be any unexplained spaces or hidden passages.

  It was almost lunchtime when Nora threw herself tiredly into a chair in one of the bedrooms. She watched Gabe recheck the measurements of her room with a jaundiced eye.

  What did all of the rooms where someone had died have in common? A sudden whoosh and metallic rattle from the vent above her startled her. She glanced up.

  “What about those?” She studied the ornate grill in the ceiling, excitement making her pulse race. She rubbed her palms against her jeans. “Could someone crawl through the air ducts?”

  Gabe strode over and examined it, pushing against the metal. “It’s solid, and the opening would be too small for a human being. It’s only about ten inches across.” He stuck a finger through the grillwork, though, examining the width of the holes between the leafy twists and curls.

  She rubbed her eyes tiredly as the inspiration faded into disappointment. “I just don’t see how someone could get into these rooms. The doors were locked. There have to be extra keys. We haven’t found any secret passages or anything suspicious. There just isn’t anything.”

  “Well, it happened, so there has to be a way.” He stood in the center of the room and eyed each wall. “We just haven’t found it, yet.” When he focused his attention on her, he smiled and walked over to give her shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “I know.” But she didn’t. She felt scared and demoralized. Beaten. They were all easy targets, and it was just a matter of time before they were all dead.

  “I want you to promise me something, though.” His hand on her shoulder was warm and heavy. “Stay away from Sarah Lennox.”

  She let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Not that again. Why?”

  “You know why. Don’t be alone with her. In fact, don’t be alone with any of them. Try to make sure there are at least three of you, if I’m not around.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” She shifted under the weight of his hand, but he didn’t withdraw it. “Anyone who would adopt a kitten the way she did is not a murderer.”

  “Maybe. But your safety is worth a little awkwardness.”

  “I guess so. Do you want to go back downstairs and check the study again? If Uncle Archie died there, we may find something the police missed,” she suggested, too tired to argue about Sarah.

  “Sure.” He shrugged.

  Her feet dragged as they went downstairs. The continual tension and interrupted sleep were taking their toll. She felt bruised, confused, and exhausted as she studied his stiff back.

  How much worse must Gabe feel after an auto accident and staying awake last night to protect her?

  Guilt, thy name is Nora.

  But better guilty than dead.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Here you are,” Frank announced, unnecessarily stating the obvious as Heck followed his wheelchair into the study. “We’ve been looking for you since we got here.”

  “Well, you found us,” Gabe replied, feeling annoyed as he stepped away from Nora.

  She looked so miserable and sad that he just wanted to put his arms around her and let her rest her head against his shoulder for a few minutes.

  Frank’s interruption put an end to that. Probably just as well.

  “Johnny has been doing some investigating for me.” Frank glanced up over his shoulder at his assistant. “And he discovered an interesting fact. It may have nothing to do with what’s been going on here, or it may be relevant.”

  “Then maybe he should talk to the police,” Gabe suggested.

  A faint smile ruined the rocklike stolidity of Heck’s face.

  Frank laughed. “He got it from the police. They haven’t shared everything with us, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “No kidding.” Nora sat on the arm of a nearby wing chair, her wan face set, as if expecting unpleasant news. “What did he find out?”

  Heck cleared his throat and shifted his grip to the wheelchair handle. “Twenty-five years ago, Sarah Lennox gave birth to a child. A boy.”

  “A boy?” Nora grabbed Gabe’s arm. Her fingers dug into his forearm as she stood. “Sarah has a son?”

  A bad feeling made Gabe cover her hand with his. “Who was the father?”

  Heck’s pale eyes cut from Nora to Gabe. “Archibald James.”

  Nora swayed. Gabe put an arm around her, but a moment later, she tensed and pushed him away. “I don’t understand. Did the baby live? I mean, if he had a son, why wouldn’t Uncle Archie leave everything to him? What’s with this whole stay-in-the-house-two-weeks-to-inherit thing if he had a son?”

  “I checked.” Heck nodded as if agreeing with Nora. “I couldn’t find a death certificate. But there were no school records for the child, nothing to show that any child ever lived here.”

  Nora looked up at Gabe, her eyes huge and solemn with worry. “Maybe Uncle Archie never knew about the child. Maybe she gave him up for adoption.”

  “That was my conclusion. I’m searching for any records of adoptions occurring around May fifteenth, or the weeks after the child was born.” Heck shrugged. “It may not be possible to trace. Privacy issues.”

  “What was his name?” Nora asked.

  “Dennis,” Heck replied. “Dennis Lennox.”

  The information focused the spotlight firmly on Sarah Lennox. In fact, it seemed to make sense of what was happening at Autumn Hill. Perhaps the housekeeper hoped to scare the cousins away, or kill them, and then reveal that Archie James had had a son who deserved to inher
it.

  Her son. No wonder Detective Gerhardt had been so interested in her.

  Gabe shifted uncomfortably, knowing that Nora would disagree. For some reason, she seemed determined to believe in Sarah’s innocence, regardless of evidence to the contrary.

  “So the child could have died,” Nora pointed out, her mouth set in a firm line. She crossed her arms over her chest and studied Heck. “You don’t really know for sure what became of him.”

  “You don’t know if Sarah is Catholic, do you?” Gabe asked, his mind racing over possibilities.

  If Sarah didn’t want the child, or didn’t want James to know about the child, she could have had an abortion. But she didn’t. Which suggested moral or religious beliefs that prevented her from terminating the pregnancy. So it was possible that she’d received counseling to give the baby up for adoption.

  “Catholic?” Nora stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  “Possible. Even likely. She gave birth in a small, charitable clinic run by the local Catholic church,” Heck said.

  “The police are ahead of us on this one.” Frank interrupted impatiently, as if annoyed at Heck’s possession of center stage, even if he had pushed his assistant out onto it himself.

  Excitement over the new, potential avenue of investigation filled Gabe. “I’ve got a few contacts myself, and there’s a computer in the den. I think I have some work to do.” He placed a hand on Nora’s slim shoulder. “Why don’t you get some rest? I won’t be long.”

  She stared at him, her mouth still set in a mulish line, before she finally nodded. “I will, after I talk to Sarah.”

  Heck and his boss exchanged glances before Frank said, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Yes, I am. She has a right to know that the police, and you, are digging around in her past. It’s her life.” Nora’s eyes glittered. “You don’t know what happened twenty-five years ago. Someone needs to show her a little sympathy.”

  Gabe said, “One of us—”

  “No!” she interrupted. “Privately. I’m going to ask her, straight out, and find out what happened. And we don’t need an audience. It’ll be hard enough on her without other people standing around, staring at her.”

  “Nora, it isn’t safe.” Gabe frowned, frustration tightening the muscles in his neck. She was so damn independent, always pushing him away as if he were more of a hindrance than a help.

  Well, he wasn’t going to let her get herself killed just because she was too obstinate to listen to reason.

  “It’s lunchtime.” Nora glanced at the cell phone he’d given her, and moved toward the door. “I’ll speak to Sarah after lunch. Alone. The rest of you can do what you want. But I suggest you—and you can tell this to the police, too—start looking at everyone, not just Sarah. Look at Drew if you want another suspect. The easy answer isn’t always the right one.”

  Lunch was back to bland, baked chicken and steamed vegetables, and no one seemed inclined to talk. Nora was preoccupied, and Gabe soon gave up trying to start a conversation with her.

  If she’d talked to Sarah, she wasn’t eager to share the information.

  When she got up abruptly, picked up her plate and silverware, and started toward the doorway leading to the kitchen, he called, “I’ll be in the den, using the computer.”

  She paused, shrugged, and took another step forward before Candy stood up and said, “We should have a séance tonight.”

  Nora dropped her plate. It broke into several pieces around her sneakers, but she didn’t appear to notice. She eyed Candy and then caught Gabe’s gaze.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asked.

  Pale as death, Candy stared at him. “You may not care, but I want to find that gold before we all die. Uncle Archie is the only one who can tell us where it is.”

  “She’s right,” Kirsty said slowly, her gaze fixed on her plate. She pushed around a clump of broccoli with her fork. “We need to do something. The police are useless.” When she looked up at Gabe, her eyes flashed with defiance. “They’re looking for someone human. But they’ve never been here at night when it gets cold, so cold I don’t know if I’ll ever feel warm again.” She shivered and dropped her fork to rub her arms. “If we want to live, we’ve got to talk to him. A séance is the only way.”

  Nora stooped and cleaned up the broken pieces of china, looking distracted.

  Drew chuckled, but it was a dry, half-hearted sound that betrayed more tension than humor. “Uncle Archie was a mean old S.O.B. while he was alive. What makes you think he’ll be nicer and help us now that he’s dead?”

  “We have to do something!” Candy’s voice cracked.

  “Well, it certainly would be nice to find the gold,” Drew remarked. Everyone stared at him. He raised his hands, palms up, and shrugged. “I know I’d be happy to know we were staying here, bored out of our minds, for a good reason. We should ask him where he hid it. Assuming, of course, that he didn’t just cash in all his investments and spend it all.”

  “Spend it?” Candy’s eyes widened as if she were surprised and appalled at the prospect.

  “It’s a possibility. Although I would think we’d find something here worth more than a dollar if he did spend it. What the hell could he possibly have spent his entire fortune on?” Drew chuckled. “He certainly didn’t travel. And if this is his standard menu,” he gestured at the table, “then he didn’t buy a lot of fancy foods, either. So the gold has to be somewhere.”

  “Maybe he’ll tell us at the séance.” Kirsty pushed back her chair and stood, leaning against the table.

  “A séance isn’t the answer,” Gabe said, trying to bring a sense of calm rationality back into the room.

  Nora turned toward him, her hands full of broken pieces of her place, and her face white with anger. “How do you know? You think you’re the only one who has any answers?”

  “Come on, Nora, you can’t tell me you think a séance is a good idea. It’s just a game, a scam.” Gabe couldn’t believe her reaction. She was a vet, a scientist. How could she think a séance would do anything except scare the impressionable?

  “I think we need to explore all possibilities,” she replied stiffly. She swept her gaze around the room. “Midnight? In the study?”

  Kirsty nodded. “Where Uncle Archie died. Yes, that would be the best place to call to him.”

  “Midnight.” Candy dropped the napkin she’d been twisting between her white-knuckled hands. “I’ll be there, watching everyone. Right now, I’m going to my room.”

  “Well, if there’s going to be a party at midnight, you can count me in.” Drew grimaced as he stood. “Another day in the fascinating environs of Autumn Hill. At least I have plenty of time for my siesta.” He thrust his hands into his pockets and followed Candy out of the dining room.

  Gabe studied Nora’s set face. Somehow, he’d lost her. The thought made his meal feel heavy in his stomach. “Nora—”

  “No.” Her chin tilted up, and her eyes were hard. “You go ahead and do whatever research you feel necessary. I’m going to talk to Sarah.”

  Before he could say anything, she turned and walked out of the dining room. He took a step in her direction and then stopped, gripping the back of his chair. No point in following her. She wasn’t in the mood to talk, and maybe she was right. Maybe a sympathetic ear was what Sarah Lennox needed to reveal the truth about what was going on.

  Preoccupied, he strode to the den and nearly walked into Candy as she stood in the doorway.

  “Whoa,” she pushed him back before he could step on her toes. When he halted, she grabbed his shirt as if regretting her instinctive action. She tilted her head and smiled at him as her hand brushed down his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Uh, oh. Not good. The last thing he needed was a more intimate, or any, relationship with Candace Westover. He glanced over his shoulder as he gently pushed Candy away. It would be just his luck if Nora decided to follow him after all.


  “It’s fine.” He edged around her. The den was empty. His unease increased. “I thought you were going to your room.”

  “I was, but I was afraid to be alone.” Candy pouted and slid close enough to smooth the collar of his shirt.

  Once again, he moved away and headed for the computer, leaving her in the middle of the room. He pulled out the wheeled chair. As he sat down, he said, “You’ll be fine. Sorry, but I’ve got some work to do.”

  He turned on the computer and stiffened when he felt Candy’s hands grip his shoulders. She must have leaned closer to peer at the computer screen because the unmistakable softness of her breasts pressed against the back of his head. He stiffened.

  “What are you working on?” she asked.

  “Step back, Ms. Westover. I need some privacy.”

  She released his shoulders and moved to the side, blinking rapidly. Her mouth twisted, and she crossed her arms. “Surfing porn sites?”

  “No.” He let out a long breath. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, and I can understand why you’re scared—”

  “I’m not scared! I just wanted to talk to someone.” She flashed him a manic smile with trembling lips as her gaze bounced around the room. “No one wants to do anything, and we can’t leave.” Her hands twisted together.

  “Fine. I get it that you’re nervous, or whatever. Maybe you should call your husband. Or we can talk later.” He felt like a heel, but Candy struck him as the kind of woman who would take advantage of anyone trying to be nice to her. “Right now, I have some work to do, and I’d appreciate some privacy. I don’t mind if you want to stay. Watch TV or something. It won’t bother me.”

  Emotions flickered over her face too rapidly for him to identify. Her lips trembled again, and she resumed blinking like a malfunctioning stoplight.

  She was going to cry. Unfortunately, the prospect only annoyed him further. What was her problem, anyway? Why didn’t she just call her husband if she wanted a little sympathy?

  “I—I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that, I know it. But you don’t understand. No one understands. And you’re right, I am scared. I’m terrified. I mean, poor Mike. And his kids. I—” She stopped and covered her mouth as she swallowed convulsively. Her eyes kept glancing past him to the door.