Winter Peril

by Pinder, Victoria

  Still, she traced the wall, and this time, as she reached the steps, she sat.

  She’d get filthy, but she didn’t want to fall to her death. Her butt weighed her down, and her feet pushed lower, one step at a time. She descended the stairs as a child would, but her balance would prevent her from tripping and falling to break her neck.

  Inch by inch she lowered herself, and kept her hand on the nearest wall. The dirt would wash off. She flinched the second her fingers ran over some heavier layers of dirt.

  Soon her feet found the bottom step, and her gaze became a little clearer.

  There was slightly more light coming from the floor and bottom of the walls here. The buzz in her ears played like music. She tapped on the wall, but she knew he’d not hear her. On the other side of the wall, Gabriel must be running some electricity.

  Her heartbeat raced, but her breathing grew easier. She’d find her way out now. As she banged on the wall with more grit, she hoped to get his attention, though she doubted he’d hear anything.

  With every step she took, she could see clearer, and her steps became emboldened. There had to be a way out. With light, she’d find a door. From the inside, it had to be easier to see. She continued to knock everywhere, and she circled through the house until her eyes caught a latch and a door spring.

  Yes. A smile brightened her face, and she tugged. The door clicked and she opened it wide.

  She stepped into the light into Gabriel’s polished new kitchen.

  In the gleaming cookware, she caught her reflection. “Dirty” didn’t describe her. Her hair had streaks of grime. Her lips curled. She needed an immediate shower.

  The sound of power tools cutting wood pierced her ears in the distance.

  Her feet froze on the spot, and she called out, “Gabriel Murphy.”

  The buzz of tools in the distance told her he’d not hear a word. She picked up a pot and shoved it in the secret doorway to keep it open. Then she followed her ears. She called out, “Gabriel.”

  The sawing sound became louder and louder. The man wouldn’t hear over that noise.

  Finally, she found him working at a bench with a work hat and headset on. He had his back to her. For a moment she stared at him and tried to decide how to approach him. Without warning, he powered off and stood straighter.

  All she could see was his wide shoulders.

  With his back to her, he laid his tool down but didn’t turn around. She needed him. He took off his headphones. Then he called out to her, “Erica, I’m not ready to talk yet.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She brushed her hand on his shoulder. “I need you to look at me. I found a secret room. I know how Tiffany went into Alicia’s room.”

  He flinched, and his eyes opened wider the second he twisted around to see her. “What happened to you? Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine, though I’ve been trapped for hours.”

  “Don’t go running around this house.” He checked her arm for cuts and bruises. “It’s dangerous without power.”

  His warmth was what she needed. She offered him a tentative smile. “I’m okay, at least physically. The hall was so dirty, but I’m fine. Emotionally, I’m hoping you can forgive me.”

  He closed his eyes, and he shook his head. “I don’t want to make a mistake.”

  “Me neither.” She swallowed. “It is a mistake if we fall apart.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Then he took a deep breath. She’d not push him on that. Then he opened his eyes, and she touched his gloved hand. “Come with me. I found a secret passageway. I was just stuck in it when I was checking out the room Alicia stayed in. I know how Tiffany snuck into her room.”

  He instantly took his work gloves off, brushed the sawdust off him, then squeezed her hand. “Show me.”

  As she nodded, dust came off her and landed on him. He didn’t care, and placed his hand on her back. “I don’t think we’re alone in this house,” she said.

  “No one else is here. They’d have showed themselves to me years ago.”

  “I saw the figure of a woman.”

  “You couldn’t have.”

  She smiled brighter now, and her shoulders relaxed. “I’m glad I believe you. This is the part in the movies where the bad guy reveals himself and the heroine fights for her life in a horror.”

  His gaze narrowed like she had verbally attacked him. Heat burned her cheeks, and she bit her bottom lip, though she hadn’t meant it like that. He slowly asked, “What do you mean?”

  Despite how she wrinkled her nose, she tried to talk her way through this. “The plot twist where the heroine becomes the victim. It’s why I hate those movies. The girl trusts the wrong person.”

  Gabriel took his hand back and stepped away. “Are you saying you’re scared of me?”

  Her filthy hands covered her mouth as she shook her head. “I never say the right words with you. That’s not what I meant. I meant the woman. Please come.”

  Back in the kitchen, she pointed to the wall. “I feel safe in this house only when I’m with you.”

  His intense stare caught her off guard. Then he broke their gaze. She pushed on the wall and it opened.

  He poked his head inside the secret door. “This goes to the second floor?”

  “Yes.” She watched him and waited till he stepped back inside with her.

  “I’m getting a flashlight and my gun.”

  “A gun?” Her mouth dropped, though she had wondered if someone had pushed her. “I still don’t think we’re alone in this house. Is is possible someone else is here?”

  “No. I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “I’d have found them years ago, but sometimes my tools go missing, and the day you arrived, I thought you were the incarnated ghost for a moment. I used to think I was going crazy.”

  A lightness entered her heart as she told him, “I sometimes think someone watches me too. Whoever it is doesn’t like me.”

  “Impossible. You’re almost perfect.”

  She was? Did he forgive her now? She swallowed.

  His fingers looped around her and settled on her back. “Go inside and wash up. We’ll talk tonight. Nothing happens inside the apartment, and I want to see what this is. We probably don’t have anything to worry about.”

  The walls in her room had created the tingles in her neck so many times, like someone else was there. Both times, though, the tiny hands found her in the house, and not in the apartment. “Be careful. I’ll come looking for you in an hour.”

  Every cell in her body begged to go with him. Now was not the time to split up, and she wasn’t the type to sit at home and wait. She chewed on her lip. She had to trust him. He thought she hadn’t. Her feet pointed toward him, and she was ready to argue. Then she dropped her hands to her side. As he held the door open for her, he shook his head. “Two hours. I might see something and want to check it out.”

  With one shoulder, she shrugged, then nodded. “Deal. Two hours.”

  He gave her the first smile he had in days. “Go. Wash yourself, Snowflake.”

  Her heartbeat raced, and she grinned back. The second he turned away, she ran back to her room. He had used her nickname again. Her heart soared out of its cavity as she raced back inside the house to wait for him.

  Chapter 25

  Her hands trembled. Erica paced the kitchen floor. The food was packed up, not that she ate anything. Her stomach roiled at the thought of eating, and her nose turned upward every time she smelled her own cooking. She turned around and dropped her hands.

  Then she stared at the clock. The minute counter said twenty minutes had passed since she’d last peeked. She sighed, then tied her wet hair up with an elastic and located a hat. Gabriel’s time was almost up. Hopefully nothing had happened to him. Her feet tapped the floor. She couldn’t wait anymore. She squared her shoulders and fought back her anxiety. She counted all her fingers. Gabriel was one minute late. He could have fallen down those stairs.

  She wrappe
d a scarf around her neck. Then she heard heavy footsteps in the hall. The thunder of his shoes on the wood floor sent electricity that ran right through her. She raced out of her bedroom and spotted him carrying a box.

  His brown eyes met hers. He was fine. Then she took in the dirt on his jeans. He tipped his head to greet her. “Let me clean myself up. Meet you in the kitchen.”

  Food. Her initial plan of action. She should have heated something.

  Her eyes followed him to his room until he closed his door. In a flash, she took the scarf and hat off and headed into the kitchen. She threw the shepherd’s pie concoction into the oven for ten minutes. Food preparation would help her anxiety and feed her stomach.

  Silence greeted her ears, and her teeth chattered a bit. Today, they’d talked. She decided to open a can of vegetables. Not her favorite, but she couldn’t pop to the market to buy fresh.

  Canned anything didn’t take long to cook. Without much effort, she boiled the water and fretted about. Every thirty seconds, she checked the pantries. Then his slightly damp hand cupped her shoulder.

  Tension dissipated the moment he did, and sparks of desire coursed through her. She turned around and met his succulent brown eyes. “Come sit with me.”

  Her eyes narrowed on his other hand. “Why are you carrying the diaries and that box?”

  He kept his mouth pressed together for a minute. She stilled. Then he quietly told her, “My brother said there were DVDs to prove what she did, but they were never located.”

  Evidence. She crossed one of her arms over her body and studied the box. “He didn’t know where they were?”

  “I don’t know.” He set the box on the table. “Raphael had set Tiffany up to save me, and he claimed not to know.”

  “Like I said, I think she drugged him.”

  Gabriel crossed his arms. “At the time, I thought he’d betrayed me when he slept with my wife.”

  “He helped you. That counts.”

  “Maybe you’re right. He said he never remembered it.”

  “The diary made me think she manipulated and murdered people. Forgive Raphael. He’s your brother.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Raphael.”

  “So you don’t talk to each other?”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “My sister is a free spirit, and we argued all the time as children. Then one day, without warning, she was gone. Mom and I both missed her.” She let out a deep sigh. “Your wife set out to have your brother, just as she set out to have you. Like you, he was tricked. You were both her victims.”

  Without a word, he sat back in his chair and shook his head. Finally he answered, “I fell for it. And I guess so did he. But the difference is she was single when I met her.”

  Her tongue clicked against her bottom lip. “Or she murdered that Alan guy to be with you.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Who’s Alan?”

  “The guy she almost married until she married you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I read her diaries; you weren’t the first. With every page I read, I felt worse and worse for you.”

  “Everyone believed me guilty.”

  “They were wrong.” She took the seat beside him. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t know who Alan was.” He shook his head. “And I never met her parents or her sister. My wife repeatedly said she had no family and that she wanted me to die in war.”

  Erica’s mouth dropped open. “Wait, she said that about you?”

  He tugged on his ear. “Yeah.”

  “Evil.” She wrapped her hand on his arm. “I am glad you’re here, angel.”

  He squeezed her hand on the table but said nothing.

  She thought about him a lot. And he needed help. Whatever happened was the past, and he needed to heal. “Keep talking. You were home a year before the murders, you said.”

  He closed his eyes, and she could see a pulse beat at his temple. She guessed he remembered something. A moment later, he opened his eyes and nodded. “Yes, though one winter before I spent in Germany. She stayed in New York. I came home when I could, and even then she was unhappy.”

  “New York, not here.” She kept her voice light. “Interesting, but off topic. Let’s focus on this place and how to clear your name. We need evidence of what happened here to you.”

  “We?” He ran his hands through his hair. “I’ve never said any of this out loud to anyone who didn’t want to throw me in jail.”

  “Not even your lawyer?”

  “He was bought and paid to get me off. I don’t think he cared if I was guilty or innocent.”

  “I believe you.”

  He stilled and gazed into her eyes.

  “I intended to find proof you were innocent.” She moved her hand to his knee, and she tilted her head to ensure they made eye contact. A moment later, his gaze met hers, and she offered more support. “I’m not here to judge. But I need to know what happened.”

  Heat rose inside her. He placed his hand on top of hers and let out a long, drawn-out breath. Then he answered. “After Reilly O’Shea, our caretaker here for ten years, was killed, all eyes were on me. They even had my prints on my old medicine bottle used to store the poison. I didn’t know what would happen to me. Then Raphael showed up with his plan, admitting to his adultery. He claimed he was ashamed he’d let himself fall that low. He wanted to just be my brother again. Tiffany had been setting the whole thing up.”

  She lightly stroked Gabriel’s arm and nodded. “So he had a plan.”

  “I guess.” Gabriel kept his hand on hers. “He worked with my lawyer, getting her to confess publicly while hiding two police officers in the house to listen to every word.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why didn’t he videotape the conversation? I’d have done that.”

  He shrugged and shook his head as he answered. “Maine is one of twelve states in the nation that doesn’t allow video evidence to be used in court. I wasn’t involved in the plan much, as they wanted to keep me safe.”

  She intentionally kept a gentle tone. “But your brother was shot?”

  With his eyes on her nose, Gabriel answered, “She shot him with one of my guns.”

  Her jaw dropped. Wasn’t Raphael the love of her life, according to her own words? This made no sense. Her diary said she wanted to get back with Raphael. Why would she shoot him? “What?”

  Gabriel massaged his temples. “He told her he’d never let me take the fall for what she did, and that he’d go to the police. She didn’t know the police were listening to every word.”

  “Wouldn’t she still be considered guilty of attempted murder? You don’t get to shoot at people with the police present.”

  He massaged his neck. “They considered the moment some accident.”

  Her mouth stayed opened. “Wow. I’m glad he’s okay.”

  Gabriel sat back in his chair, and his gaze was so intense. All she could do was stare back at him. “I don’t know what to say or think or feel. Brothers honor wedding vows.”

  She nodded. “And adults need to let go of grudges. He was her victim too. How did she die?”

  His eyes went dead, like she had hit a nerve, and he dropped his hand on hers. The second the snow melted, she’d find her sister and apologize. For right now, she’d be the friend Gabriel needed. Her heart was so open to him. Gabriel stared at the ground unmoving, but slowly he answered. “My lawyer told me she died in a standoff with the police. They won, but I never buried her.”

  “Did you identify her body?”

  “I did it, through photographs. I can’t stand the sight of death.”

  The hair on the back of her neck stood. She mirrored Gabriel as she pulled back. “Strange. Why didn’t you bury her just to make sure she was dead and gone?”

  “I couldn’t handle the details. She shouldn’t be in the grave with my last name.” He stared at the door. “I left her in the city morgue for the state to handle everything.”
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br />   She gazed into his haunted expression. She’d not push on that subject. She wasn’t sure she’d see to the burial of someone who tried to kill her either. But what if the officials screwed up? She squeezed his leg. “So why do you want the evidence?”

  The fire in his gaze returned, and his voice grew stronger with every syllable. “The gun Tiffany used on Raphael wasn’t the same gun she owned. It was mine. But I’ve been looking for these DVDs and her gun for years, and until I figure out how everything went wrong with this house, I’m not leaving.”

  Secrets in the walls. She had found the secret rooms. She nodded, then directed his attention to the DVDs. “Where were these?”

  “In the secret room leading to your bedroom.”

  A huge sigh of relief formed in her head. She wasn’t crazy. She tapped her chest and her eyes widened. “My room? What?”

  His smoldering gaze sent her body into overdrive. He nodded. “Yeah. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have put you there.”

  With a hard swallow, she relaxed because she trusted him. He had no idea how turned on she’d become suddenly. It was his nearness, and now was not the time. “Continue the story.”

  “The police cleared me of all charges, but I’ve tried to make sense of everything. There wasn’t enough evidence.”

  “That’s amazing.” He wasn’t on the run or still a suspect. Someone else must have thought Tiffany guilty, but she hadn’t found those articles. Strange, but Erica’s entire body felt lighter.

  He shook his head. “Something in this story never rang true. After reading her diary, I found she wasn’t happy. I wish she’d have asked for or agreed to a divorce.”

  “You weren’t either. You can’t force someone, especially someone with a sick mind, to do anything they don’t want to do.” She pushed her bottom lip out. “To me, a divorce is cleaner than a ‘let’s murder someone’ idea. That’s extreme.”

  His voice had a mocking tone suddenly. “Tiffany never lived her life like ordinary people.”