Deadly Inheritance: A Romantic Suspense (15 page)

“And you gave it one.” He grimaced as he took a deep breath. His ribs obviously still bothered him.

A sense of guilt at allowing him to carry the cat supplies to Sarah’s room made Nora’s face warm. The warmth turned to heat when she caught Gabe’s intense gaze and smile.

The room hushed around them.

A deep awareness of his nearness filled her. The breadth of his shoulders and strong arms, and those broad, capable hands—she stared and bit her lower lip, remembering his earlier kiss.

She glanced up to find him leaning closer, his deep blue eyes partially closed. Bedroom eyes. One of his warm hands cupped the side of her face. She caught her breath as his mouth covered hers. He felt so good, so right, as she pressed against him, her hands running over his shoulders to his neck.

“Does she need any medicine?” Sarah returned, still cupping the purring kitten in one arm.

Nora stepped away from Gabe, one nervous hand smoothing her hair and the other rubbing her slacks. She felt as if she were in disarray and half-naked. “No. The course of antibiotics was completed yesterday.”

“I’ll keep her in my room, for now. So she’ll be safe.”

“That’s a good idea.” Nora glanced at Gabe, trying to bring her pulse down to a normal rate and think clearly. “I was wondering, Sarah, if there was anything else you remembered about Archie’s death?”

Sarah stared at her as if in surprise. “No, I was in my room. I told you that.”

“I was wondering, though, about Archie, himself. Did he have any enemies, anyone who might want to hurt him? Was he involved in anything shady?”

“I stayed out of his way.” Sarah held the kitten closer, gently smoothing its fur as the animal purred loudly. “I doubt anyone liked him particularly.”

“What was the deal with the moat?” Gabe asked.

“I don’t know.” Sarah frowned thoughtfully, her hand running more slowly over the kitten’s back. “He had it put in about fifteen years ago. Said he was tired of people coming and going without a word, particularly the leaving. He got so angry every time someone left without saying a proper goodbye. But what could he expect when he made them so mad? He’d argue and argue, I could hear them clear from the kitchen sometimes, and then they’d storm out.”

Gabe studied the housekeeper thoughtfully. “Who? Anyone in particular?”

“Why, almost everyone.”

“But was there anyone who was especially angry?” Nora asked.

Sarah laughed. “All the cousins lost their tempers. He liked to taunt them with the possibility of giving them some of his money and then, when they came to Autumn Hill, he’d tell them he’d changed his mind. Or that they didn’t deserve nothing because they’d only visited him when they wanted something. Maybe Mr. James was right, and the place is haunted.”

“When did that particular rumor start?” Gabe suddenly switched to a different angle.

Sarah’s hand stilled, covering the little cat protectively. “I don’t know.”

“Was Autumn Hill always reputed to be haunted?” Nora asked.

“No one never said nothing that I remember.” The V between her brows deepened. “Mr. James was the one who said it. Several years ago, now.”

“Was it before, or after, he built the moat?” While Gabe’s voice was light, the tightness in his shoulders and neck indicated that he was very interested in the answer.

“I don’t know. Honestly, it was so long ago. But it may have been about the time he put in that moat.” Sarah sighed and resumed her gentle stroking of the kitten. “I never understood why he did that, not really. He just seemed to grow so odd, so secretive. I used to wonder if he had some kind of brain fever or tumor that made him go a little, uh,” she flushed as she caught Nora’s gaze, “strange. No disrespect.”

“I understand,” Nora said. Uncle Archie sounded more than just strange to her, and she assumed that the gold had changed him. Gold changed a lot of people for the worse.

“Why didn’t you never come, Miss Nora?” Sarah focused her curious gaze on her.

Nora shrugged. “Before he left, my father used to say that Archie was the black sheep of the family. My mom avoided the whole bunch of them. And after they both disappeared, I figured if my parents both
thought Archie was a black sheep, then I really didn’t need to make his acquaintance, if you know what I mean.” The truth was, her charming father had been irresponsible enough before he abandoned his family to make her avoid all of his relatives.

And given what she’d heard about Uncle Archie and her cousins, she didn’t regret her decision.

“Is there anything else?” Sarah asked at last. “I’d like to get Dizzy settled in for the night.”

“No. Thanks for the information.” Gabe rubbed his brow, right below the edge of the bandage.

Watching him, a flash of concern sparked within Nora. He ought to be resting, not questioning the housekeeper. The police must have covered the same ground, and she suddenly wanted to find a quiet spot to think. She’d been in the house when Mike died, just as Sarah had been when Archie died. Nora might very well have as much information as the housekeeper. She just needed to sort through everything.

Nora and Gabe traded glances. She shifted from one foot to the other, wryly realizing that her frustration was making her restless. Why couldn’t they identify who had killed Archie? It shouldn’t be that hard. She had the distinct impression that there was something they were missing, some key fact that would reveal who was behind Archie’s death.

“Goodnight, then.” Sarah turned and walked back to her room, closing her door gently behind her.

As they stood there, Nora heard the sound of a lock clicking into place.

“No wonder the police are stymied.” Nora trailed after Gabe.

“Maybe they’re further along than we think,” he commented.

As they entered the hallway, he flashed a glance at the staircase. The gesture seemed to project a deep longing to get some rest.

Or maybe it was just her longing.
Bed.
The thought brought another tingling wave of awareness of Gabe. She flushed. Their rooms were connected, and her bed was huge. And lonely. She took a step back.

Now was not the time to begin a relationship, even if he was interested in one and not just trying to relieve an annoying physical itch.

But he was so attractive—she struggled to remain sensible. Detached. A relationship was probably the last thing on his mind. Their kiss had just been a spur-of-the-moment thing, an opportunity he’d taken advantage of.

Gabe glanced at his cell phone and then at her. “I’m going to check our rooms and then hit the sack.”

“Okay.” Nora put a foot on the bottom step. “I’ll help you. What are we looking for?”

He glanced around. “Anything you wouldn’t expect to find in a bedroom.”

“Like gold?” She nodded, wishing that she didn’t feel a tingle when she said the word
gold
. After all, it was just money, and she’d already decided what she was going to do with her share. It didn’t make any difference if it was gold or cash. But her hands grew damp, and her heartbeat increased. They were going on a treasure hunt.

Or searching for booby traps. She couldn’t forget that. When she glanced up and saw the heat in Gabe’s eyes, her pulse leapt in response.

Don’t get involved
. Sensible advice, but perhaps a little too late to heed.

They’d searched both bedrooms until both of them were sick of moving furniture and tapping on walls. There had to be something they’d overlooked. Gabe straightened, winced, and glanced over at Nora.

She had given up fifteen minutes earlier and lay on the bed, watching him. “Nothing. I told you, and now your ribs hurt, don’t they?” She folded her arms and studied him.

“I’m fine.” A sharp bolt of pain ran through his head. He fisted his hands and thrust them into the pockets of his jeans.

“You should be resting.”

“I’m not an invalid.”

“You were in an auto accident and were just released from the hospital this morning.” Her brown eyes twinkled.

An impulse he couldn’t explain and didn’t want to think about made him lean over her. He braced one hand on either side of her and stared down at her beautiful face.

The laughter in her eyes faded into uncertainty. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and held her breath.

Despite the throbbing pain in his chest, he lowered himself gently and kissed her. She tasted sweet and warm and oh-so-right in his arms, and his physical reaction was so immediate, so intense, that the agony in his ribs and head faded into oblivion.

Her hands ran up his arms and encircled his neck, holding him against her.

He eased his hand over the curve of her hip to her waist, his breath growing rough. Dimly, he was aware of a knocking sound.

Nora stiffened and pulled his hand out from under her shirt. “Someone’s at the door,” she whispered. She struggled to slide out from under him.

A flash of pain ripped through his side as he rolled over onto his back. His head throbbed, and he shut his eyes, barely able to breathe without writhing in agony.

The bed shook and jolted beneath him as Nora rolled over and got to her feet.

“Are you all right?” She touched his shoulder briefly.

Through gritted teeth he mumbled, “Great.”

Her soft footsteps headed toward the door. The hinges creaked as she opened it. “Yes?” she asked.

A young policeman stood outside the door. “Detective Gerhardt sent me to ask if you want to see him before he leaves.”

“No. I don’t think we have anything to add to what we’ve already said. Do we need to talk to the detective?” Nora asked over her shoulder.

Gabe sucked in a breath and rolled off the bed. The pain in his ribs diminished as he straightened, but his head throbbed warningly. “Did he finally release Archie James’ office?”

The young officer nodded. “The room’s unsealed, and you can use it. Is there anything else?”

“No,” Gabe said. “And thanks for letting us know. Appreciate it.”

After another sharp nod, the young man disappeared down the hallway.

Nora turned, glanced at Gabe, and flushed.

He couldn’t help grinning, but instead of tormenting her, he suggested a brief visit to Archie’s office.

“Now?” She glanced at the ornate white-and-gold clock ticking away on one of the nightstands. “It’s kind of late. You should get some rest.” Her flush deepened, and she seemed to have difficulties meeting his gaze.

He hid his smile behind a yawn before he sobered. “I’m not sure about you staying here tonight.” Tension crept back into his neck and shoulders, tightening the muscles. He didn’t want to leave her alone in this room, even though they’d searched it. Something was wrong in this house, and two people had already died.

“I told you, I’m not leaving.” She closed the door firmly and stared at him.

“Then change rooms with me.”

“That’s not going to help anyone.”

“Humor me.” He smiled and reached out to give her shoulder a squeeze. His hand lingered as he fought the urge to pull her against him again.

What the heck was the matter with him? This wasn’t the time to start a relationship. If she managed to stay alive for two weeks, she’d be focused on her single-minded goal of establishing a no-kill shelter. And he had a pile of cases waiting for him in his office.

She didn’t need him, and he was a fool to want her so much.

Nora jerked away from his touch as if she were having similar thoughts, but the mulish expression on her face softened. “You’ve got a fixation on this room, but if it makes you feel any better, sure. Stay in here. Knock yourself out.” She tilted her head to one side. “And we can check out the office tomorrow. I’m not going down there tonight. I’m tired, even if you aren’t.”

“Fine.” Emptiness washed through him as he watched her collect a few things for the night. “Sleep well.”

“You, too,” she answered absently at the door to the shared bathroom. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

When she disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, he sat on the edge of the bed. Nighttime had a way of intensifying every ache, every small pain, both physical and mental, and making them seem worse. He touched the bandage on his head and tried to take a deep breath, only to wince at the burst of agony in his chest. He was an idiot, but he couldn’t help thinking that if Nora had stayed, he’d have forgotten all about his bandages and bruises.

Shrugging out of his outerwear, he pulled back the covers, checked the bed for any unpleasant surprises, and eased under the sheet. The house was quiet except for the occasional creak or ping as the structure cooled and settled into night.

Images of Nora whirled through his mind. Her warm body curled up under the blankets, her soft cheek cradled by her hand, her face flushed from kissing… As he stilled, the illusion grew so strong that he could almost feel her breathing softly next to him.

His arms and legs grew heavy, and his soreness faded as he slipped in and out of sleep.

He jerked awake. Heart pounding, he stared into the darkness. What had awakened him? How long had he been asleep? He turned his head and rubbed his eyes. The sound of a toilet flushing rumbled close by. That was it, Nora was in the bathroom. The faucet squealed as she turned on the water in the sink. The water splashed and gurgled down the drain before another screech signaled that she’d shut off the taps.

He moved restlessly in bed, thinking about her soft skin, the curve of her hips, and long, pale neck. He jerked at the blanket, suddenly too warm.

What would she do if he joined her?

Kick him out and lock the door. He grimaced and shut his eyes, determined to get some sleep, despite the ache in his chest that wasn’t entirely due to his broken rib.

A soft thud sounded near his face, followed by a more solid thunk. The noise echoed in his head, like someone flicking a fingernail against a pillow. He went rigid, his hand an inch from his face, and listened.

The room was silent. An intense cold slipped over him, seeping through his hair and under the covers. Holding his injured side, he sat up. Had he left a window open?

Sleep seemed impossible. He got out of bed and padded toward the windows. Halfway across the room he paused. A door creaked. A thin streak of light showed under the bathroom door.

Someone was vomiting. The toilet flushed. He changed course and opened the bathroom door to find Nora bent over the toilet.

At the creak of the door, Nora stood and stared at him, haloed by the golden glow filtering through the opening from her room. Tousled hair curled around her pale face, and the shadows under her eyes made her appear vulnerable and very young.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before pouring some mouthwash in a glass. As she swished it around, her gaze strayed past his shoulder, and her eyes widened. She quickly spit out the mouthwash and straightened, staring at him.

“No. I heard a noise.” Aware of frigid air whirling down his back and pooling around his bare feet and ankles, Gabe turned.

The muted thud against his pillow clicked in his mind. A shot. From a gun equipped with a silencer. One more inch to the left, and he’d have been dead.

Or Nora. The shot had been meant for her.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. The light streaming through the bathroom doorway revealed gray billows of mist. The fog rolled over the floor and washed over the ornate furniture, obscuring it in the thick clouds. He could feel Nora shiver within his arms.

“Get back.” He pushed her toward the door leading to the small room he’d been allotted.

“What is it?” Nora shifted, putting one bare foot over the arch of the other. Her voice shook. “I know there’s no such thing as a ghost, but…”

“Ghosts don’t use guns. Someone shot at me.” He slammed the door to Nora’s room shut and pulled her into his original room.

He closed the door behind them. His fingers brushed over the doorknob and keyhole. No key. He pressed his shoulder against the door. They couldn’t even lock the door. Not that that would ensure their safety. He’d locked the door to Nora’s room before going to bed. That hadn’t stopped whoever had tried to kill him, or Nora.

If she’d slept in her own room, would she still be alive? Something inside him hardened into a rock at the thought.

“Shot at you? Are they still there?” Nora shook off his grip and flicked on the light. After one glance at his face, she dashed to the hallway door and twisted the knob, testing the lock. “Did you leave your door unlocked?” With a rigid back, she strode from the hallway door to the bathroom door and back.

“No. The door was locked.” He eyed the tiny room.

How safe were they here? How safe were they anywhere in this damn house?

“What are we going to do?” She rubbed her arms as she paced. “Someone tried to kill you. What if you’d been hit?” She grabbed his forearm with icy fingers. “I’m freezing, can’t you feel it?”

A small curl of mist slipped out from under the door and caressed their ankles.

He jerked the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. Her tense body shook within the folds. “Call the police. We need to get you out of here.”

“No, I can’t.” She pulled the blanket more tightly around her neck. “And you’re the one who needs protection, not me. First your car and now this.”

“Have you forgotten the drawbridge?” he asked harshly. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to get you out of here, gold or no gold.”

As she stepped away from him, the cold fog billowed around her, rising to her knees. She shivered and opened her mouth.

The doorknob to the hall door rattled.

Her eyes widened and flashed to his. “It’s starting again, I’m afraid.”

He flung an arm around her and drew her closer as the door shook and rattled. “Just stay here,” he whispered, his gaze fixed on the door.

The freezing mist rose rapidly and reached three-quarters of the way up the doorframe, obscuring the doorknob as they watched. The inability to see the knob twisting made it even worse. The lock couldn’t hold for long. The door would give way, and whatever was hidden within the clinging gray fog could enter at will.

When he stepped toward it, she caught him. “Don’t—please.”

“Someone’s there, deliberately trying to frighten you.” He pried her hands off his arm.

“You can’t—I don’t want to see what’s out there. I don’t want to see that there’s no one there.”

“Well, I do.” As gently as he could, he pushed her back and strode to the door.

The brass knob was icy and damp against his palm, and though he hoped he didn’t show any fear on his face, his heart thumped wildly at the thought of what might, or might not, be outside the door. The primitive part of his brain huddled in terror of the unknown, the fear that something deadly and unnatural was hidden in the fog.

The doorknob rattled under his hand. He jerked away and rubbed his cold palm against his underwear.

He suddenly felt like a fool standing there in his tee shirt and boxers, afraid to open the door. Gripping the key, he unlocked the door. He flung it open and strode into the hallway.

A carpet of mist about a foot high billowed down the hall. All the doors he could see were shut and presumably locked. He moved into the center of the hallway, watching the fog writhe and curl as he moved.

If someone had been messing with their door and ran away when he came out, he—or she—would have disturbed the mist the way he did when he walked through it. And he would have sworn that none of the other doors had opened or closed. There was no sense of movement.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled. Unsatisfied, he returned to Nora.

“What was it? What did you see?” Her fists held the blanket up to her chin.

“I didn’t see anyone.” He ran a hand through his hair and eyed the bathroom door. He’d left his cell phone in the other bedroom. “We should call the police.”

“And tell them what, exactly? Do you have any proof that someone shot at you? You didn’t see anyone, maybe because no one was there.”

“Are you saying I dreamed it?”

She stared down at the floor and shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is I’m scared.”

“And I’m freezing my ass off.” He flung an arm around her shoulder and turned her toward the bed. When she stiffened, he winced at the jolt to his side and then chuckled. “If you can spare the other blanket, I’ll stay here with you. And don’t worry, I’m in no condition to ravish you or anyone else.”