So, she was almost certain that he was heading for that gap in the fence. It was on this path, behind the dormitory, and he’d been heading that way with Olivia when he was sidetracked by Detective Duncan.

  She neared the pool. On the other side of it was the path that would take her directly to the dorms. Daisy was about to break into a run when she saw something on the path illuminated by the light of the single bulb. It was small, just a single circle, in the path, slick-surfaced and almost black in the minimal light.

  Daisy leaned in, confirming her suspicion. Blood.

  She looked up and saw more of it, a few droplets at regular intervals, heading down the path. Exactly where she’d expected him to go.

  But it gave her new hope. Injured, he might not be so quick to escape.

  Skipping into a run, she followed the path until the servants’ quarters came into view, every window awash in light, and loud music with a throbbing bass seemed to shake the very walls of the spare, rectangular building. People were congregating outside in the darkness near the picnic bench, drinking, partying, hooting, and hollering, oblivious to her. She scanned the silhouettes of them, making sure Eric wouldn’t attempt to fall in with the crowds, but she doubted he’d attempt that with his injury.

  After that run, longer than she was used to, she was almost breathless, but she forced herself to pick up the pace. He’s here. I can feel it.

  Following the trail of blood, she passed the dormitory, the beat of the music and voices of the servants fading into the distance. The clouds parted, and the moon appeared, lighting her way. Abruptly, the blood trail veered off toward the perimeter fence. She slowed as she approached the perimeter fence, scanning it for the opening she’d seen last night.

  As Daisy neared it, her heart sunk. He’s already gone.

  Sure enough, when she reached the opening in the fence, she noticed blood on the ground.

  “Damn,” she whispered, lowering her head to peer through and seeing nothing but a field beyond. He could have been anywhere now.

  But then she heard a crack of a branch behind her.

  She slowly whirled to find him slipping out from behind a palm tree, a switchblade raised up over his head.

  He swiped at her ribs, and at the last second, Daisy dove.

  She hit the ground with a thud, and this time, it sent fireworks of pain up her spine, rendering her immobile.

  Eyes wild, he lunged for her, knife at the ready, level with her heart. She grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him, the knife between them, hovering just inches from her breastbone.

  Daisy’s body seized in terror as she held him there. If she let go, she would die.

  His face twisted and reddened, and he snarled, his body shaking as he worked to bring the knife closer, closer …

  “No,” she gasped against the unbearable strain. She could feel her muscles weakening, the bones in her wrists on the verge of cracking. She couldn’t hold out much longer. All the breath left her, and the realization crashed in. I’m going to die.

  But then there was another sharp crack, and Eric’s eyes went from determined to wide with shock. She felt his muscles losing their tension, his body relaxing over her, and then the knife slipped from his grip, landing on her chest. A moment later, his eyes closed, and he slumped over her, nothing but dead weight.

  For a frightening moment, she lay there, immobile, trying to comprehend what had just happened. But understanding trickled in, even before he appeared over her.

  Ted Duncan.

  He slipped the gun into his shoulder holster, smiling smugly. “Guess I saved your life, didn’t I? A thank you would be nice.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  An hour later, the bass from the servants’ party continued to throb, making Daisy’s head ache more with every beat.

  People still milled around outside. Alcohol was still being consumed. But the mood had definitely changed. All it had taken was that single gunshot.

  A single gunshot to the side that had brought Eric Hosenblatt to his knees. He was seriously injured, but there was a good chance he would pull through.

  Daisy sat at the back of the ambulance, massaging her temple with one hand, holding a piece of gauze to a scape she’d gotten on her cheek with the other. Other than that, all she had were a few other bumps and bruises. Olivia Freeman, too, had only surface injuries.

  Detective Ted Duncan had gotten the worst of it. He had a bandage around his head where he’d been hit, but he wasn’t letting that slow him down. He walked about, directing traffic, answering questions, taking charge, accepting the praise of his colleagues like the true hero he’d proven himself to be.

  It was nauseating.

  But Daisy didn’t care too much. As far as she was concerned, he could have all the accolades. Ed Fortune had never liked the spotlight, shying away as much as he found himself in it. And Daisy was her father’s daughter. She was fine with letting someone else take the praise for it.

  All she cared about was that now, the case was solved. Now, she could collect her money and go back home.

  Conrad had come back to the house, with Olivia in tow. He’d found her in the old theater, freed her, and brought her in. She’d been so shaken that he and Rachel had taken her right up to bed to sleep it off.

  Sleep it off, Daisy thought, yawning as she checked her phone. That sounds good.

  It was after two in the morning, and the police were still swarming the place, along with the servants. The red and blue lights bounced on every surface like a disco ball. Along with the music, it looked like the biggest party this place had ever seen. But Daisy had no interest in that. As she went to check for the nearest flight back east, she realized she had a message from Zachary.

  Sorry if I said what you did not want to hear. But you can’t find him if you’re dead.

  She blinked. Hardy was a true English gentleman—his expertise was in putting things as eloquently and pleasantly as possible. But he was not mincing words here.

  And he was right.

  She’d come so close to death only an hour before. Less than an inch.

  If she had died, the mystery of Charlie Fortune’s disappearance would’ve died with her.

  She did need to be more careful.

  But that doesn’t mean I have to stop altogether.

  Daisy was still trying to think of a response when someone cleared his throat. She looked up and saw Ted Duncan. He was smoking a cigarette, that smug smile still on his face.

  He’s come here to gloat some more, she thought, looking for an escape. Anywhere would be preferrable. I can’t wait.

  He sat down next to her on the ambulance’s back bumper. “Where’d the Freeman heiress go? I should arrest her.”

  Daisy glared at him. “For what?”

  He snorted. “You saw her statement. She lied about her age. Her past. If we knew all that, then—”

  “If you went around arresting women for lying about their age, half of the women over thirty would probably be in jail,” she muttered.

  He sucked on his cigarette, exhaling a long plume of smoke into the chilly night air. “Maybe so. But I don’t like being dicked around. Shows a real lack of respect.”

  “Your ego can take it,” she assured him.

  “Oh, I know, but it’s a case of where you give people an inch, and they take a mile,” he said with a shrug. “You have to keep them in line so they don’t think they can keep jerking your chain. I’m sure you know.”

  She glanced at him, a little surprised. It almost seemed like he was trying to relate to her. As if he actually saw her as a peer in this crime-solving thing, instead of some “cute” lesser-than. “And how would I know that?”

  He chuckled. “You know. This can’t have been your first case.”

  “No, it wasn’t. But I was under the impression I was just glomming,” she said with a smirk, mimicking his voice and inflection from when he’d told her that. “Letting you guys do the dirty work so I could stand on your shoulders and pick the fruit.”

  He gave her an innocent look. “Who said that? Not me.”

  “Oh, let me check my notes,” she said, pretending to reach for her notepad. “I think that’s exactly what you said.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, okay. Well, I’ll admit that we both did a little standing on each other’s shoulders.”

  “It’s called sharing. As equals.”

  He pressed his lips together. “Fair enough.” Then he held out his hand for her to shake. “It was good working with you, detective. Thanks for your help.”

  She shook his hand and smiled. “And thanks for yours.”

  “It’s my job,” he said, sliding off the back of the ambulance and heading off into the crowd.

  Daisy checked the gauze, feeling her scrape. It had already clotted, so she tossed the gauze away and checked her phone for the next flight out. There was one leaving tomorrow afternoon. She pressed a button to purchase the ticket.

  Yes, it would be good to go back home.

  ***

  The next morning, when Daisy finished packing and went downstairs, Conrad was waiting for her in the foyer. He took her bag. “Are you ready to leave, Daisy?”

  She cast a long look around the magnificent foyer and nodded. “Yes, I think I am.”

  He motioned to the doors to the sitting room. “Before you go, Mrs. Freeman would like to talk to you and settle with your fee.”

  “Of course,” she said, and this time, when she went through, she didn’t need an escort to stop her from getting lost. She simply heard Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude and followed the sound of the music.

  When she opened the door, she waited for Olivia to finish. As the last notes hung in the air, the heiress turned around, a sad smile on her face. “Did you know that’s the only song I can play?”

  Daisy shook her head. “You play it well.”

  “Marv taught it to me. He’s an excellent pianist. We spent ages together, right here, side by side, at this piano bench. A lesser man would’ve gotten so tired of me. But he never did.”

  Daisy didn’t know what to say. Olivia might have done some things that others would’ve seen as cruel. She’d abandoned her family, running off without a word. But it was clear that she had had real affection for Marv Freeman and wasn’t just in it for the money, as so many people had assumed.

  “My husband—my first husband, Stu. He abused me. Not physically, but mentally. It was terrible, the things he said,” she said, not making eye contact. “I’d always wanted to leave. And so I did. I changed my name, changed everything, because I was afraid of him finding me. I would have taken Eric with me, but I couldn’t. I knew Stu would rely on his family to care for him. I just didn’t know that they would raise him to . . . to . . .”

  “To hate you?” Daisy asked.

  Olivia nodded. “I suppose that Stu must’ve said terrible things about me. And Eric must’ve had so much hate bottled up inside. For him to do that to me, to Marv . . .”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She exhaled. “Yes, I am too. But I am happy it is over. And it is because of you that Samara is coming back this afternoon. And she is thankful to you too.”

  Daisy smiled. “I’m glad.”

  “I have too many people who think that I was in this for the money. A little hilarious, considering I come from nothing. And there really was no money, just this hellish old eyesore. This place was always so gaudy to me.” She looked around, her lips curled in disgust. “So, I’ve made a plan. I’m paring down. I’m donating Castle Paradiso to a women’s shelter, for victims of domestic abuse. And I’m giving most of it away to the servants and charity.”

  Daisy stared in shock. “Really?”

  “Of course. Believe it or not, Livi’s actually starting to pick up. Social media is exploding now that everyone’s found out I’m forty! Can you believe it? It’s a true testament to how well Livi works, I guess.” Olivia stood up and went to the fireplace mantel, lifting an envelope, which she crossed the vast room to put into Daisy’s hands. “And this is for you.”

  Daisy opened the envelope and gawked. “$200,000? But the fee was only—”

  “I know what you had to go through,” Olivia said, waving her off. “The police detective said you nearly died, and I feel responsible for that. So, you’ve more than earned it. And, of course, I’ll see that you’re sent a lifetime supply of Livi.”

  Daisy couldn’t stop staring at the check in awe. “Thank you so much.”

  “No,” Olivia said. “Thank you. Have a good trip back East. I’m keeping your card on file, and if I ever run into any more trouble, just know I’m calling you first!”

  EPILOGUE

  Bright and early, Daisy went to Independence Court to check on her father.

  She was a little jet-lagged, since she never could sleep on the flight, but she knew he’d be excited to hear the story of her latest case. It felt good to be able to tell Edward Fortune something she knew he’d want to hear, so he could live vicariously through her.

  She found him, sitting at his table in the sunlight, eating his breakfast.

  “Ooh, pancakes?” she said to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek and sitting next to him. “They look good.”

  “Hey! I know,” he said, digging in. “I’m starving.”

  Daisy laughed as he shoveled the food in. “What are they doing, depriving you of food here?”

  Ed nodded. “Feels like it.”

  The nurse, Sarah, swatted him. “Hey, Ed. This is your second helping,” she reminded him.

  “Is it?” he said, chewing, giving her an innocent look. “What do you expect? You all keep telling me my mind’s not as good as it once was. How am I supposed to remember?”

  Daisy laughed as the nurse went away. “You better watch if you want to keep your figure.”

  He patted his stomach. “I am watching my figure. I’m watching it get bigger and bigger.”

  She grinned at him as her phone buzzed with a message. It was from Zachary: Sorry if I overstepped. I don’t mean to frighten you, and I know how much this means to you. Forgive me?

  She had spent the entire flight thinking of Zachary Hardy’s message. In the end, she decided that he meant well, and that was all that mattered. She smiled and quickly texted back: Already forgiven.

  A moment later, his response made her insides flutter: Wonderful. Dinner tonight?

  Her father shoveled in more pancakes and washed it down with a little orange juice. “What are you grinning at?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just happy.”

  “So . . . I take it things are going well with the business?”

  “Sure. Not quite booming. But good.”

  “How was Hollywood? See anyone famous?”

  She shrugged. “Not really. But I did see Castle Paradiso. It’s . . . a lot to take in.”

  “Gaudy, huh?” Ed Fortune nodded. “It always looked that way on television. I couldn’t imagine actually living there.”

  “I spent two nights there, and it was more than enough. It’s so big; it was too much for Freeman to take care of. So, a lot of it was falling apart. And now, his widow is planning to turn it into a group home for abused women,” she said.

  “No kidding? Well, I’d say that’s a good change.” He patted her hand. “So, how did the case go?”

  “Oh, it was solved. Believe it or not, the widow had a child from her first marriage, and he was responsible for everything,” she said breezily.

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “Olivia Freeman was so ecstatic I solved it that she gave me a huge bonus.”

  “That a girl.”

  He probably wanted more details, but she wasn’t willing to divulge them. Especially the part where she’d nearly been killed. If he’d heard that, he’d probably start talking about making a return to Fortune Investigations. And that couldn’t happen. Not yet, and maybe not ever. Before she’d come into his room, though, the doctor had said that he was doing well, that he hadn’t had any bad forgetful, argumentative spells the entire time she was gone. That was encouraging, and what was more encouraging was that he seemed to be in positive spirits. Maybe it was this extra-big new room she’d managed to secure for him, and would be able to sustain, for at least the time being, thanks to Olivia’s generosity.

  Or maybe Ed Fortune was simply finally understanding that he didn’t need to return to Fortune Investigations in order to have a fulfilling life. Maybe he could finally, confidently, hand over the reins to his daughter and know his precious Fortune Investigations was in good hands.

  She stood up, went to the cabinet, and pulled out a deck of playing cards. “Hey, Dad. What do you say we play some Go Fish?”

  ***

  That evening, Daisy stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, checking her reflection.

  Not bad, she said to herself.

  She was wearing a red sweater and a long, dark skirt, and the new, short boots she’d bought on a whim at the boutique next to Independence Court. She’d figured that with her earnings, burning a hole in her pocket, she could at least treat herself to something to celebrate another case solved, instead of letting it all go to bills and necessities.

  She grabbed a hairbrush and ran it down her long, brown hair. As she was contemplating whether to wear it up or down, her phone buzzed with a call. Zachary’s name popped up on the display. She lifted it to her ear. “Hello, there. Don’t tell me you forgot about taking me out to dinner?”

  “Never! I just wanted to tell you I’m just pulling off the main road. Should be there in ten.”

  She checked the clock at her bedside. He’d said eight, and right then, it was ten to eight. He was always so punctual. “Perfect, I’ll be ready and waiting.”

  “Great. Can’t wait to see you. I have a surprise for you.”

  “Really? What?”

  “You’ll know it when you smell it.”

  She laughed. “What does that mean?”

  “And it’s not nearly as beautiful as you are.”

 

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