Novels 03 After Twilight, page 19
“For the moment.”
“Fair enough. By the way, I’m still working on the Gienelli/Baucomo connection. Nothing to report yet. If the professor is Gienelli, then he’s turned straight arrow. There’s not even a whisper of scandal surrounding the old geezer.”
“Oh, he’s Gienelli, all right.”
“How do you know?”
“I confronted him with it.”
“And he admitted it?” Matt sounded skeptical.
“Well, not in so many words. But he didn’t deny it either.” The son of a bitch had actually used it to turn the tables on him.
“So, do you think there’s a connection?”
“I don’t know. It seems so damn coincidental. But I think he genuinely cares about Kacy.” Despite his dislike for the man, there was no denying the emotion he’d seen in the professor’s eyes. He cared all right. And right now Kacy could use all the allies she could get. No matter what he thought of them.
“So you want me to drop it?”
“No. Keep digging.” It wouldn’t hurt to stick it to the bugger a little. He owed him one.
“No problem. I kinda hated the idea of letting it go anyway. You know me.” There was a hint of laughter in his friend’s voice.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Anything else you want to tell me? You don’t sound so good.” Laughter changed to concern.
“Nothing I can explain on the phone. Suffice to say that I’ve screwed up royally, and only divine intervention with a lot of groveling is going to get me off the hook.”
“Now that’s something I’d like front row seats for.” The laughter was back. “Braedon Roche groveling.”
“Thanks for the support.”
“Anytime. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here.” Braedon placed the receiver back in the cradle.
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Things were certainly heating up, pieces beginning to fall into place. He needed to find Kacy, to tell her the truth, and to tell her what he’d found. But to do that, he’d have to gain at least a tentative truce. And that wasn’t going to be easy.
With a shudder, he recalled the icy fury on her face the last time he’d seen her. He blew out a breath. It was going to take a lot of groveling. But then, he’d always been a man willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted.
And he wanted Kacy Macgrath—now and forever.
He glanced at his watch with a sigh.
No time like the present.
Braedon got out of the car, wondering what kind of reception he’d get. Not a good one, he’d wager. Even with time to calm down, Kacy would still be angry. And rightly so. He had behaved abominably, but to his credit, he’d wanted to tell her everything this morning. Probably too little, too late, but surely it should count for something.
The rain was still falling. A continuous sheet of water, drenching everything in sight. He pulled his raincoat closer, grateful for the warm sweater underneath. He knocked, and when there was no answer, felt in the potted plant for the key, both relieved and annoyed to find that it wasn’t there.
At least she was safely locked inside.
Another thought occurred to him, and he reached out to grasp the door handle, turning it slowly. He felt it click into the open position, and bit back a curse. She was so damn trusting.
Exactly what got her in trouble with you, me boy.
The voice was his mother’s, and he bit back a grin. It had been a long time since his mind had allowed him to remember that voice. It brought comfort, even in scolding.
He started to open the door, and then paused at the sound of barking coming from the side of the house. Turning, he stepped off the porch just as Mac came tearing around the corner, barking like the hounds of hell were after him. When he saw Braedon, the bark changed to a whine and the dog circled in front of him, clearly agitated about something.
“Hang on there, boy. What’s wrong?”
The dog stopped and then barked again, backing up and looking toward the meadow beyond the house. All in all, it was a damn good imitation of a Lassie episode, only he didn’t feel much like Timmy.
The implication of the thought hit home, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. Kacy was in trouble.
“Okay, Mac, take me to Kacy.” He stopped at the car and grabbed a flashlight.
The dog set out at a run, stopping from time to time to see that Braedon was still with him. As they came over the rise, Braedon caught his breath, looking down at the fort. It was wreathed in mist and the eerie cast gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could still hear the collapsing stones of the souterrain. What if another wall had fallen?
Mac barked again, obviously impatient, and offering a silent prayer heavenward, Braedon followed him.
Chapter 19
IT WAS COLD, not pleasantly chilly or refreshingly bracing, but bone deep frigid. The kind of cold that sets in, digging inside until there’s no escaping it. Shivers racked Kacy’s body, the movement causing a shower of dirt and rocks to fall to the beach below. She tried to still the tremors with no success.
The rain fell incessantly. The deluge had lessened, but the lack of visibility made it seem worse. She stared up, no longer able to discern between the shadow that marked the cliff and the gray-black of the sky.
Tears or raindrops ran down her face. She couldn’t tell the difference anymore. In fact, she wasn’t sure it mattered. Time had no meaning either. Her watch had broken in the fall and between the rain and the creeping darkness, there was no way to mark the minutes, the hours.
Another piece of the ledge, this time inches from her shoulder, crumbled and fell. She sucked in a breath and willed the trembling to stop. So much for mind over matter.
At least she seemed to be in one piece. Nothing seemed to be broken. Physically, she was okay. Mentally, she wasn’t so sure. Fear circled through her, matching the cold step for step, the two dancing together, threatening to destroy her.
She was tired and growing more and more disoriented. Sleep was her enemy, but a seductive one. It would be so simple to slip away. She closed her eyes and relaxed, just for a moment letting a sense of warmth ease through her.
No.
The word echoed through her brain and she fought against the lethargy, forcing her eyes open. Braedon. She focused on Braedon. He would come. No matter what lay between them, he would come.
All she had to do was wait.
Braedon followed the dog through the fort to the cliff, his heart in his throat. Mac stopped and laid on the ground, his nose over the edge, whining softly.
“Here?”
He looked over the edge, the sound of the ocean the only indication of what lay below. The dusk and the mist hid the rocky shore. Fear ate at him. If she was down there, if she’d fallen …
He inched toward the edge, his foot hitting loose rock. The stones disappeared into the gloom, the echoing clatter as they hit bottom taking forever to reach his ears. No one could survive that fall. No one.
He knelt beside Mac, peering down into the darkness.
“Kacy?”
A small whimper floated back to him.
“Honey, are you down there?”
“Braedon?”
The voice was weak, but clear. A shadow shifted below him. He could just make out the ledge. Relief surged through him. He flipped on the flashlight, and almost wished he hadn’t. She was wedged on a narrow outcropping just below him. Lying on her back, she looked so tiny and fragile, her face white and drawn. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”
“I’ve been better.” The ghost of a smile lit her face.
He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Can you stand up?”
“I’ve been afraid to try. I think the ledge is unstable.” As if to emphasize the point, rock from the outcropping clattered down into the darkness below.
“Look, it’s holding your weight now. I think, as long as you move slowly, it should be all right for you to try to stand.”
There was silence for a minute, then she struggled to a sitting position. More rock fell, but the ledge held steady. “All right. Here I come.” She looked up and their eyes met.
Braedon’s stomach tightened. In such a short time, she’d become so important to him. He laid across the cliff top, hanging down over the edge, arms extended. “Reach for my hands, Kacy.”
She pressed herself against the rock and reached upward. His fingertips dangled uselessly above hers. She maneuvered herself onto tiptoe, and still she remained out of reach. Her wide-eyed gaze met his, her face completely devoid of color. “Now what?”
“We need something to bridge the gap.”
“Got any rope on you?” Beneath the false bravado, he heard a trace of fear.
“No, but I have the next best thing. Hang on.” With a contortion worthy of a gymnast, he pulled his belt out of his pants, looping one end around his wrist, using the buckle. Grasping the length of leather with both hands, he dropped it over the cliff. “Okay, grab hold.”
“I’ve got it.”
“All right, I want you to use it like a rope. Brace your feet against the cliff and climb. When you get to my hands, I’ll grab you and pull you up.”
“Can you do that?” She sounded hesitant.
“Kacy, we don’t have a choice. Now come on.”
With a nod, she began the ascent. Her weight pulled at his arms, but the pain was preferable to the alternative. Losing Kacy. “Come on, just a little farther. You can do it.”
Her hands inched up the leather. He watched, waiting, and when her fingers brushed against his, he released the makeshift rope with one hand and grabbed her wrist. “I’ve got you. Now on three I want you to let go of the belt and grab my other hand.”
“All right.”
“One. Two.” He sucked in a breath, bracing himself. “Three.” He released the belt and circled her arm as soon as her hand touched his. She swung outward with the motion, her weight pulling his muscles taut.
Like a pendulum, she swung inward again, her feet planted firmly against the side of the cliff, relieving some of the pressure.
“Perfect. The Flying Wallendas couldn’t have done it better.” He concentrated on supporting her weight. “You ready?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“All right then, this elevator is ready to go up.”
A crack echoed through the gloom and the ledge beneath her splintered into fragments of rock, spiraling down through the mist.
“Good. I don’t think down is an option.” She managed a smile, but it was so slight it would have been easy to believe he’d imagined it.
“Okay, I’m going to pull.” He shimmied backward on the ground, pulling with every ounce of strength in his body.
One minute she was dead weight, and the next, she was collapsed on the ground beside him, their labored breathing a symphony to his ears. He rolled over, pulling her into his arms, holding her tight against his pounding heart.
She tipped back her head, her eyes searching his. “I knew you’d come.”
With a groan, he covered her lips with his, drinking in the taste of her, grateful for the feel of her in his arms, the smell of her skin against his. She sighed. And with a strength of will that surprised him, he pulled away. She was vulnerable now. And cold. He could feel her trembling through her anorak. He stood up, pulling her to her feet, both hands on her shoulders. “Tell me what happened.”
“It was Alex. Alex was here.” She was shivering uncontrollably now, an edge of hysteria coloring her voice.
“It wasn’t Alex, Kacy.”
“But I saw him.” The rain began to fall again in earnest, the water striking like icy needles.
He took off his raincoat and wrapped it around her. “Come on, we need to get you home. We’ll talk there. After you’re warm and dry.”
She stared at him for a minute and then nodded, leaning into him when he put his arm around her. Mac ran joyous circles around them, delighted that his mistress was on her feet again, as the three of them set off across the meadow for Sidhean. And, just for a moment, Braedon felt that all was right with his world.
“I did see Alex. I’m sure of it.” Kacy snuggled under the afghan, her feet curled underneath her. The sofa cushions were covered with sheets and turned facedown, but she could still imagine the ripped cushions, the image reminding her of the insanity of the last few days.
Braedon moved to sit beside her on the sofa. “Why don’t we start at the beginning?”
“All right.” She shivered, remembering. “I was at the ruins, with Mac, and he was watching me from the shadows of the wall. I was sitting by the cliff, thinking about …” She stopped, embarrassed.
His voice softened. “It’s okay, sweetheart, just tell me exactly what happened out there.”
She nodded. “I heard a noise. Rocks rattling. When I turned around, he stepped out of the shadows. He wanted me to see him, Braedon. It was different from the restaurant. I think I surprised him there. But this time, he definitely wanted to be seen.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Only my name.” She pulled the afghan closer. “And then he started to walk toward me, this really sick little smile on his face. I panicked and tried to walk away, but I was too close to the edge. The ground gave way, and the next thing I knew I was on the ledge.” She stopped and looked up, meeting his gaze. “You believe me, don’t you? I mean, that I saw Alex.”
He leaned forward, his hand on her arm. “I believe that you think you saw Alex.”
Indignation flared. “It wasn’t my imagination, Braedon. I swear it.”
“I didn’t say that it was.”
She frowned, confusion warring with resentment. “So, what are you saying?”
He blew out a breath. “Alex has a brother.”
“I know that. He’s dead.”
He reached for her hand. “I’m afraid Alex lied to you, Kacy.”
She searched his eyes, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “So you’re telling me that Alex’s brother is alive?”
He nodded. “Max is Alex’s twin.” He paused, letting the impact of his words sink in.
Her heart twisted as her brain processed the information. “An identical twin?” The words came out a low whisper.
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before? At the restaurant? You let me believe …” She snuggled closer into the afghan, holding the edges, a tightly woven shield of sorts.
“Because I thought that Max was in prison. And because I didn’t want you to realize who I was—what I knew.”
She held up a hand to stop him. This wasn’t the time. She needed to understand about Alex—and Max. “He was in prison?” She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to explain.
“I don’t know all the details, but evidently Max and Alex were grifters.”
“Con men?” Well, that certainly fit. She must have seemed like an easy mark.
Braedon squeezed her hand reassuringly. It was uncanny how easily he read her mind. “Anyway, they got caught embezzling money. Or Max did. And he was incarcerated for it.”
“But Alex got off?”
“I think Max covered for him, but of course there’s no proof. Anyway, the point is, I was wrong. He’s not in prison. He was released a week ago.”
Kacy chewed on the side of her lip, her mind racing a mile a minute. “So it was him I saw at the hotel and at the fort. Alex is really dead.”
“Yes, Kacy. Alex is dead. But Max doesn’t want you to think so.”
“But why? Why would he want to torment me like this?”
“I think it has something to do with the forgeries.”
“The ones from Solais.”
He released her hand and stood up, walking over to stand in front of the fireplace. “I gather the professor filled you in.”
She pulled the afghan closer, reminding herself that he had betrayed her. “Some. You thought I was involved.”
He nodded, his eyes boring into hers, the intensity there almost frightening.
She shook her head, clearing her thoughts of Braedon. Right now she wanted to think about Max. “And if you thought I was involved somehow—”
“Then it wouldn’t be too big a leap for Max.”
“So he thinks what? That I helped Alex?”
“Maybe, or that you hurt him.”
“You think Max believes I killed his brother?” Her voice rose almost to a shriek.
“Look, sweetheart, the truth is, I don’t know what Max is thinking. This whole thing is just conjecture.” He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration reflected in the action. “We don’t know what this man is capable of. Hell, we don’t even know why he’s here.”
“Well, at least he’s not a ghost.” She pushed her hair back and tried for a smile, but failed miserably. “Anything is better than what I’ve been imagining. But there’s still a problem with your little scenario.”
“And that is?”
“Max was in prison. I’m not sure how that sort of thing works, but I do think it precludes any direct involvement in the forgeries.”
“True, but he could have been the brains behind the scheme. All he’d have had to do was direct his brother.”
“Yes, but Alex didn’t paint those copies, Braedon. There had to be a third person involved.” A thought forced its way front and center. “Do you think it could have been the man on the stairs?”
“Maybe. But I think he was Max’s lackey. A guy called Anson Forbes.”
“I see.” The information was coming too fast. There was more here than her brain was capable of dealing with. She stifled a yawn.
“You’re tired.”
“It’s been a long day.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “I just want this all to go away.”
He took both of her hands in his, his steady gaze meeting hers. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He pulled her to her feet. “I’ll take care of you, Kacy. I promise.” He leaned closer, his eyes searching hers.
She pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself, suddenly feeling frightened and alone. There was a madman tormenting her and a liar standing in front of her. The world, it seemed, was full of people waiting to take advantage.
