Authors: Cheryl Gorman
Abby
looked him directly in the eye. “How could a kitten have that much blood?”
“She
just thought she saw more blood. Understandable, considering your sister was so
skittish that night. Satisfied?”
She
wasn’t even close to being satisfied. “Not hardly. Why was she frightened?”
He
glanced away for a moment, then looked back at her. “There was a bad storm that
night. It blew in with a lot of lightning, and Miranda got caught in it. It
shook her up a bit, that’s all.”
“Miranda
wasn’t one to be afraid of a storm.”
“Then
maybe you should ask her when you see her.”
Abby
felt down to her bones that Devlin knew why Miranda had been so frightened that
night. Why wouldn’t he tell her? All the more reason for her to gain entrance
to the castle.
“I
spoke to Corrine at Wolf’s Lair, and she doesn’t have a room available until
Friday evening. This is Sunday. She told me that Morgan’s Keep offered a
haunted weekend once a month during the summer, and since there are no other
rooms available on the island --”
Devlin
wiped a huge hand over his delectable face. “We’ve already had guests this
month. It’s always the second weekend of the month. Come back in August.”
She
couldn’t wait that long to search for clues to Miranda’s whereabouts. “I’ve
already taken leave from my job. Besides, there won’t be another ferry until
the morning.”
“And
how is that my problem?”
Abby
propped her hands on her hips. “It’s your problem because Miranda was last seen
at
this
castle.”
“I
already told you what happened. Now, go home.”
“I’m
not leaving until I find Miranda. If you allow me to stay two nights, you’ll
have every opportunity to prove to me that your story is valid.”
“I
don’t need to prove anything.”
“On
Saturday, if I’m convinced, I’ll leave. I’m only asking for two days.” She
couldn’t believe she was making these demands.
“Dev,”
the sheriff began, “why not let her stay? This will give her some time to put
her doubts to rest about you having anything to do with Miranda’s
disappearance.”
Devlin
relaxed his shoulders and exhaled. “Fine. I’ll even waive the fee. But you only
have one night. In the morning, I’m putting you on the first ferry back to the
mainland. Understood?”
Don’t bet on it
. She turned to the sheriff. “Thank you for coming
up here, Sheriff.”
“My
pleasure, Ms. Chapel. Dev.” He gave Devlin a wink and headed for his car parked
next to Abby’s rental. She leaned down for her bags, which sat at her feet.
When Devlin didn’t budge, she cocked a brow and said, “Well?”
His
handsome mouth pressed into a grim line. He dropped one hand to his side and
turned his head. “Otis.” His voice echoed through the castle’s interior.
Abby
listened to the sound of steady footsteps from inside. A rather wiry black man,
with a tuft of salt and pepper hair on his head that looked like steel wool,
stopped next to Devlin. From the sound of his steps, she had expected him to be
large and muscular like Devlin. “What we got here?” He studied Abby with
obsidian eyes. “You huntin’ up them ghosts too?”
His
voice contained a lilt that Abby was able to identify as Southern, but the
accent was harder to place right away. Figuring out dialects and regional
influences in speech was a hobby of hers, and she would figure it out, given
time. Abby attempted a smile. “No, I need a place to stay for a couple of
nights.”
“Ms.
Chapel will be staying with us, for one night only. Put her in one of the guest
rooms.” With those last words, Devlin turned and disappeared down a darkened
hallway.
Devlin’s
overwhelming presence, the shadow of secrets lurking in his sexy eyes, still
lingered in her mind and threatened to slide under her skin. Inwardly, she
shook herself. Just because the man was drop-dead gorgeous didn’t mean she
should let it go to her head.
As
for Otis, he projected a palpable aura of suspicion despite his affable
expression, and would probably be no help in locating her sister.
Abby
remembered a snippet of the conversation she’d had with Miranda about Devlin.
“Whatever
is going on here, Abby, the people in the village are behind Devlin one hundred
percent. They never say anything derogatory, no matter how hard I pry.”
She
had to come up with a darn good reason why she absolutely must stay at the
castle beyond one night.
When
she walked inside, trepidation crawled over Abby’s skin. She gazed at the
castle’s interior, and to her relief, Morgan’s Keep wasn’t the evil-lurking-in-every-corner
castle she’d expected it to be. Marble floors gleamed in the foyer; walls were
paneled in mahogany. No smoky torches or cobwebs trailed along the ceiling or
walls. Electric sconces cast comforting light into the darkness.
As
she and Otis ascended the wide, curving staircase, she studied the portraits
lining the wall. “Are these pictures of the former owners before Devlin
purchased the castle?”
Otis
chuckled, glanced briefly at the paintings, and continued up the staircase with
her small suitcase clutched in his bony hand. “The Morgan family built this
place in 1702.”
“Oh,
so these are Devlin’s ancestors.” Abby stopped in front of a portrait of a
woman clothed in a parchment-colored dress that just covered her knees. Hair
the color of golden autumn leaves flowed about her shoulders. The woman’s gaze
seemed fixed on some distant point beyond the boundaries of the frame. In her
hand, she held a wind chime.
Abby’s
heart quivered at the sight. “Otis, why is this woman holding a chime?”
He
stopped at the top of the stairs. “Not for me to say. Your room’s this way,
chère.” Otis turned and walked down one of three hallways that led away from
the top of the staircase. Abby wanted to question him further, but perhaps she
should wait until she knew him better.
Otis
set her case by the guestroom bed, which was dressed in a gold-and-white
striped coverlet. Creamy moiré silk spread over the walls, and a small stone
fireplace graced the far wall. A perfect room for a guest.
He
gestured with his right arm. “Bathroom’s through there. We eat at six-thirty.
Mr. Dev don’t like people to be late. We eat in the small dining room off the
kitchen. At the bottom of the stairs, take the hallway to the right. It’ll
bring you straight there.” He nodded toward a phone on the nightstand. “You get
scared, see a ghost or something, pick up the phone and give me a holler. I’ll
come runnin’.” He chuckled and left the room.
As
soon as he closed the door, Abby scooted across the room and pressed her ear to
the thick wood. The sound of his laughter faded. Was it his laughter she’d
heard on the porch? She waited a moment, then opened the door and looked out
into the hallway. She glanced at her watch. Dinner in a half hour. No time to
waste.
She
stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her. Abby wandered down
several corridors, mindful of her direction. Maybe she should have brought
along a bag of breadcrumbs to drop at her feet. She smiled at her own whimsy.
It wouldn’t do for her to get lost. No doubt Devlin would come to fetch her.
He
drew her to him like a fire on a cold night, but that fire would burn if she
ventured too close. Abby rubbed her fingers against the fabric of her
garnet-colored cotton skirt. His warmth, the desire she’d felt when she touched
him, remained.
Did
he have something to do with her sister’s disappearance? She may not have found
anything concrete with which to implicate him yet, but there was a strong
possibility he was involved. Miranda’s words reverberated through her mind.
“I’m
not sure about Devlin. One minute, he makes me want to trust him, and the next,
I know he’s hiding something. I believe he’s connected somehow to the murder of
Alice Howard, a young woman who once lived on the island.”
Devlin’s
handsome face and bedroom eyes appeared with vivid clarity in Abby’s head,
nearly making her sigh, before unease settled in her stomach. How could she be
attracted to him when Miranda believed he might be linked to a murder? And what
about Miranda’s disappearance? Was he connected to that, too? She shook the
image of Devlin from her mind. She needed to focus on her goal of finding
Miranda.
Was
she alive or dead?
The
thought of losing her sister filled her with incomprehensible grief. She hated
the thought of being totally alone in the world. After her mum’s death, she
struggled to keep herself busy so she wouldn’t have to think about the holes in
her life. What would she do with another hole?
Scrape. Click.
Abby’s
heart lurched. She turned, but saw no one behind her in the hallway. She smiled
to herself while her heart stopped flipping about. This was a castle. Of course
there would be strange noises.
She
continued down a couple more hallways before she noticed a door standing ajar.
Light spilled through onto the wide, wood floor, and with it, the haunting
strains of a violin. Anticipation, curiosity, and a deep longing she didn’t
understand warred inside her chest. She peered through the doorway.
Devlin
stood in front of a large floor-to-ceiling window, eyes closed, a violin
cradled in his big hands and a look of profound peace on his face.
Abby
backed away slowly. The floor creaked. He turned his head and stared at her
with eyes narrowed in annoyance. She gasped. “I’m sorry. I must have made a
wrong turn. It’s rather easy to get lost in this place.” She spun on the balls
of her feet.
“Ms.
Chapel. Wait.” She halted at the sound of his demanding voice. “I’ll walk you
back to your room.”
She
turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. She wanted to sail down the
hallway back to her room, but she forced herself to stand and face him. After
all, he knew why she was here. “Okay.”
She
waited until he had placed the violin into its case and stepped out into the
hall. His big hand wrapped around her elbow, and his touch evoked an
unfulfilled yearning. Had those hands harmed Miranda?
By
the time they reached her room, Abby’s heart thrashed against her ribs and her
breath shuddered from her lungs. She stepped quickly inside. “Thank you. I’ll
see you at dinner.” Before she could close the door, he strode over the
threshold and sprawled in a wing chair by the fireplace. His green gaze
assessed her from head to foot.
“Do
you mind?”
A
sardonic smile traced his lips. “No, I don’t mind at all. Come here, Abby.”
Chapter Two
“I
want to change before dinner.”
A
gentle bend of his lips set her heart to racing again. “We don’t dress for
dinner here. Come sit down.”
He
stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles. She noticed he
wasn’t wearing socks. The sight of those bare male ankles made her remember
seeing much more than just his ankles. Her pulse fluttered. She needed to stop
this insane attraction she felt for him. How would she ever manage to find out
about Miranda if she allowed Devlin to charm her like this?
She
should grab her still-packed suitcase and scurry back to England, because the
chemistry that arced between them frightened her and made her feel guilty at
the same time. However, running away wouldn’t solve Miranda’s disappearance.
And she had never run from responsibility or family obligation. No way would
she start now.
“What
I’d really like is a tour of the castle.” Nervously, she fingered a button on
her blouse.
“Why
are you so tense about having a man in your room?”
She’d
never had a man in her room. None of the men she’d associated with in the
recent past would dream of coming into a woman’s room without an invitation.
They were all quiet, boring men.
Men
with respectable jobs and impeccable reputations.
Safe
men.
Not
like this man. Devlin was anything but safe. He exuded danger down to the soles
of his worn, leather loafers. “I’m not tense.”
“Good.
For a minute, I thought you were afraid of me.”
She
straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of you, but I
do think you’re hiding something.”
“Really?
Like what?”
She
cocked her head to one side. “How much time did you spend with my sister while
she was here?”
He
flashed a devastating grin that almost buckled her knees. “Do you want it in
exact hours and minutes?”
Abby
fought back an answering smile. Danger and charm added up to a lethal
combination. “What about that nonsense on the front porch, the cold air and the
crazy laugh? Do you enjoy frightening your guests?”
He
pursed his lips and glanced away, but not before she saw concern flicker
briefly through his eyes. What was he concerned about? Devlin rose from the
chair and paced to the doorway while keeping his thoughtful gaze pinned on her.
He swept his arm out through the door in a broad gesture.