“Probably the best decision, considering the situation.” Gabriel moved over to the foot of the bed. There were still blood stains on the surrounding sheets.
“Shall we begin?”
“Yeah. I’ll take his legs.” Gabriel grabbed hold of Otto’s ankles, resisting the urge to step away from the body.
“We can place his body on the rug and then lift the rug,” the manservant said. “That will make the task easier for us.”
The manservant hooked his arms up around Otto’s armpits and together they heaved the body off the bed. Even after years of near-daily workouts, Gabriel staggered under the lifeless weight. Whoever had managed to kill Otto had to have been both clever and stealthy to do it. The average sized man would have lost in a one on one fight with a man of Otto’s strength and stature.
They placed the body on the floor and then each of them grabbed two corners of the rug. Holding on tightly they carried the body out of the room, moving it through the hall and then downstairs to the ground floor.
Gabriel followed the manservant’s lead, exiting the castle through one of the obscure side entrances beneath the grand staircase where poor Heidi had met her own end.
The moment the door leading outside opened an icy gust of wind tore through the entrance, bringing snow with it. Against the cold blast, they walked out onto the snow to the top of a small slope where Heidi’s body lay beneath a woolen blanket. Though the snow was coming down hard, at least the bodies would be safer at the top of the slope where they were less likely to be buried under so much snow. Still, there was something somber about the howling wind and two bodies dwarfed by a world made of pure white snow.
With a final grunt, Gabriel helped set Otto’s body down beside Heidi’s and then turned to follow the manservant back inside the castle.
Silently, they headed back upstairs and walked into the parlor. There was a palpable air of gloom over the place.
Jane was sitting in front of the fire, holding tightly to the iron poker he’d given her. Timothy sat across from Jane, a haunted look on his face. Meanwhile, the groundskeeper and Agnes the housekeeper were whispering in a corner away from the others.
The manservant cleared his throat and motioned for Agnes and the groundskeeper to come closer.
“I contacted the police with the landline telephone,” the groundskeeper said as he approached them. “It is the storm that keeps them away. They cannot send out even a helicopter to help us because it is too dangerous for them to fly through such wind. So they can only arrive when the storm is finished. But they have agreed to notify Otto’s family for us.”
“So we’re stuck here with whoever did this,” Gabriel said, unease rippling through him. “Did the cops at least give any advice on what to do until they can get here?”
“They said we are to arm ourselves,” the groundskeeper responded.
“Arm ourselves with what?” Gabriel demanded.
“We have these.” The manservant edged closer to the fireplace and retrieved a pair of rifles from over the mantel. “Unfortunately we have very little ammunition, so we must use these guns wisely.”
Gabriel took one of the rifles from the manservant. There was no way in hell he was going to wait to draw straws over who was getting a weapon. If he was going to get Jane and the rest of the women out of this alive, he wasn’t going to rely on anybody but himself. “How much ammo are we talking here, Mr. Ernst?”
The manservant’s lips thinned, giving his already-gaunt face an almost skeletal appearance. Looking at Emmerich was like staring at a skull with eyes. “You will have three shots.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to make them count,” Gabriel muttered as he took a seat beside Jane.
The manservant paused to glance at the assembled guests. “Now that you are here, I can tell you that Herr Kramer’s body has been taken outside.”
Timothy crossed himself, murmuring a prayer. “What a terrible end for the poor old chap.”
“I can’t even imagine how scared he must have been,” Jane said softly.
“I don’t think he suffered.” Gabriel told her, laying the rifle across his lap. “It was probably over before he even knew what happened. My guess is he was asleep, so he didn’t feel any pain.”
She gave him a sad smile that sent agony through him. “I suppose that’s one relief.”
“There’s no relief as long as there’s a madman out there,” Timothy cut in, his tone desperate. “He won’t stop at one knifing. Mark my words, he’ll try again.”
“But why is he doing this?” Jane asked. “What motive could he possibly have?”
“As I said already. Madness.” Timothy tapped his temple for emphasis. “Can’t make any rhyme or reason from a lunatic’s actions. No doubt he’s lying in wait for the next chance to strike.”
Gabriel looked to Timothy, giving the older man a meaningful stare. “What makes you so sure the killer is outside this room?”
Timothy sputtered, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. “You think one of us did this?”
“It makes the most sense,” Gabriel said evenly.
Timothy’s face reddened. “It most certainly does not. Why in the world would one of us harm Otto?”
“Heidi and Otto,” Gabriel corrected. “You don’t actually think the solicitor was the first victim, do you?”
“Are you saying that the maid was also murdered?” Timothy choked out.
“Yeah. I am,” Gabriel said.
“Then it can’t be one of us,” Timothy insisted. “Nobody in this room is mad.”
“Both murders appear to be very well executed,” the manservant said slowly. “Therefore, the culprit is clearly sane.”
“I don’t appreciate the pun, Emmerich.” Timothy glared at the manservant. “In any case, mad people can make plans.”
“I’m with Mr. Ernst,” Gabriel said. “I think the killer had a motive beyond insanity.”
“What motive? Why kill Heidi and Otto?” Timothy asked. “Otto is an important man, so it’s possible he had enemies. But who would have reason to kill some insignificant maid?”
“No one is insignificant,” Jane snapped.
Timothy chuckled nervously and tugged at his collar. “Come now, Cousin, I meant no offense—”
“It’s people like you that make my job hell,” she said sharply. “I’m the receptionist that nobody sees. Or thanks for any of the work that I do. So, if I’m next on this killer’s list, will I be in the insignificant column to you, Timothy?”
“Of course not,” Timothy said. “You’re the most important one here. You are the heir to Wintergarten.”
“Which makes these killings all the more baffling and peculiar,” the manservant pointed out. “The most logical motive is the castle itself. With that motive in mind, as one of the next in line to inherit, Fraulein Westen is the most likely candidate for a murder.”
The color drained from Jane’s face. “Gee, thanks.”
“I tell you, the killer can’t be one of us,” Timothy said. “It must be someone else. Someone lurking about in the shadows somewhere in the castle.”
“Unless you are the killer, Timothy, and you want to place the blame somewhere else,” Gabriel said darkly.
Timothy shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Me? What reason could I have to harm them?”
“Maybe Otto knew something about you that the rest of us don’t,” Gabriel said.
“What nonsense. I’m an open book,” the older man said with a scoff. “I’ve nothing to hide.”
“I don’t think Timothy did this,” Jane said.
“Thank you, Cousin,” Timothy said, giving her a smile.
“He’s too old and frail to have pulled any of this off,” Jane said dryly.
Timothy scowled in response.
“Too true,” the manservant agreed. “This is the crime of a younger, fitter man. It would have taken true power to push Heidi down those stairs and to then kill a man of Herr Kramer’s strength.”
&nbs
p; “Not necessarily,” Gabriel said. “Otto was probably killed in his sleep. Wouldn’t need superhuman strength to stab a guy in his sleep. As for Heidi, we can’t really say for sure that she was pushed. For all we know, she was poisoned earlier and happened to fall down the stairs when it took effect.”
“More outlandish accusations,” Timothy said. “Do you have evidence for this nonsense? No, you don’t. Perhaps you are the real killer, Gabriel. After all, you’re young and virile enough to have struck them both down.”
Jane’s breath hitched audibly and Gabriel glanced her way. A blush crept up her cheeks, staining them pink, and she averted her gaze to look into the fire. Was all that talk about strength and virility making her think back to their lovemaking? Or was she starting to suspect the Gabriel was some sort of psychopathic killer?
“Guess that means you shouldn’t try to cross me,” Gabriel warned.
Timothy’s eyes widened. “How dare—”
“Gentlemen, set aside your differences,” the manservant urged. “We must all come together if we are to stay safe.”
“All… wait a moment.” Agnes glanced around the room frantically. “We’re not all here. Berta. Berta the cook’s not here.”
7
“We cannot find her anywhere,” Agnes said as she rushed back into the parlor, the groundskeeper trailing behind her. “We’ve searched in all the usual places. Berta is not in the kitchen or her room. And she is not in the main part of the castle.”
Jane felt her worry turn into outright fear. Her chest tightened as she considered what might have happened to the cook. With the blizzard raging outside, the cook couldn’t have fled the castle. “We have to do a more thorough search, then.”
“What are you saying, Cousin?” Timothy demanded.
“I’m saying that two people going to search a few rooms won’t be enough. Not with a murderer in the castle,” Jane said desperately. “Berta might have been hurt. Or worse.”
“Well, at least you’re not foolish enough to accuse the poor woman of being the killer herself,” Timothy grumbled, his eyes narrowing on Gabriel.
“Berta would not even harm a fly.” Agnes burst into tears.
The groundskeeper patted her shoulder awkwardly and started speaking what sounded like comforting words to her in German.
Jane’s heart squeezed painfully. She didn’t know which was worse. The fear of being next on the killer’s list, or the grief of watching helplessly as innocent people disappeared. “Does anyone remember the last time they saw Berta?”
“She helped me to wash my hands after…after I found Herr Kramer in his bed,” Agnes said between sobs. “Then she said she would make breakfast for us and sent me back upstairs. It was only after being in the parlor for some time that I realized she had not come to alert us that breakfast was ready. Oh, we must find her before it is too late.”
“You’re right. We have to search for her,” Jane said, nodding in agreement.
“Are you mad?” Timothy asked, his voice a high-pitched whine. “We can’t go running about this dark, old castle with a killer on the loose. Poor Marta’s on her bloody own.”
“It’s Berta.” Jane couldn’t believe how cowardly and cruel the man was being. “If you were the one missing, you’d want us to look for you.”
“That’s different. I’m not a bloody servant,” Timothy said indignantly. “Besides, I was married to von Westen’s sister. I’m one of the family. These servants should be taking orders from us, Cousin, not giving them.”
“What is wrong with you?” Jane asked in disgust. “How can you say that?”
“Servants are to serve,” Timothy retorted. “Berta served her purpose. I say we go down to the kitchen and eat the meal she worked so hard to make for us. Then we come back upstairs and barricade ourselves in the parlor until help arrives. What do you say, Gabriel? Makes sense doesn’t it?”
“I say any man who leaves a woman to fend for herself isn’t much of a man at all,” Gabriel said, getting to his feet. “Agnes and Jane are right.”
Jane looked up at Gabriel in amazement. His reaction was totally unexpected. From the way he typically acted, she had been sure that he was cocky and selfish. Out for himself at the expense of others. Right now, though, she was witnessing a side of him she had never seen before. Never even thought was possible. How on earth had Gabriel Ross come out of this nightmare looking like the brave, selfless leader of the group?
Seeing Gabriel in this new light just complicated her feelings for him. When the accusations had started flying around earlier she had, for the briefest moment, wondered if she could really trust him. What if he had been right and the killer was in this very room? That made Gabriel a suspect as much as anyone else. That brief moment of suspicion had given her pause. If he was dangerous, going to bed with him would eventually prove to be a huge mistake. But she had to trust her initial instincts, which were telling her that the killer was somebody outside the parlor. Somebody who wasn’t yet known to them.
“Who do you think you are to talk to me like that? I’m practically a von Westen,” Timothy said haughtily, dragging her from her thoughts. “You’re just a jumped-up errand boy.”
“You want to eat the food that woman made, but you don’t want to save her. I’d rather be an errand boy than a coward, Tim.” Gabriel stalked over to the door, rifle in hand.
His words fueled her resolve, and with her legs shaking at the prospect of searching the darkest corners of the castle Jane got to her feet and followed after him. “We should split up.”
Gabriel turned to look at her, his gaze unwavering. “What are the odds of you hanging back and letting me handle this?”
“You’re the one who said we can’t stand by and let a woman fend for herself,” she returned.
“When I said that, I meant that the men should handle this,” he said.
“Oh, go to hell with that,” she said sharply. “I’m not sitting on my ass while I can do something.”
“I’m serious, Jane. This is dangerous.”
“You’re not the boss of me just because we slept together,” she said, lowering her voice as she glared at him.
His jaw clenched and it took him a second to reply. “You’re not leaving my sight.”
The growly way he spoke made her go weak at the knees. Gabriel turning all strong and protective was an incredible surprise, though she refused to let on. “Then we can search together.”
“That is an excellent idea,” the manservant cut in. “We can split into groups of two and search.”
“You have all gone mad,” Timothy thundered. “I’m not going on this search.”
“Then you can stay here in the parlor,” Jane said. “Alone.”
Timothy’s face went pale. “Alone? No, surely not. I shall go in search with Emmerich. He has a gun, after all.”
“If we need more weapons, why don’t we use some of the ones hanging on the wall downstairs?” Jane suggested.
“I say that’s a capital idea,” Timothy said.
“For once I agree with Tim,” Gabriel said. “Good idea, Jane.”
For some reason, though she hadn’t been seeking Gabriel’s approval, the minor compliment still made Jane blush.
“Since neither of you is as familiar with the castle as we are, I suggest you and Fraulein Westen search the lower levels,” the manservant said.
“Lower levels?” Jane asked. “You mean, like, the basement?”
“I mean the von Westen family crypt,” the manservant responded blandly.
A chill rushed down her spine. “The what?”
“Ha! Not so brave now, are we?” Timothy asked in a mocking tone. “You two fools are going down into the catacombs.”
“Splitting up was your idea,” the manservant reminded her. “Would you like to change your mind and remain here?”
Absolute terror gripped her and a loud voice inside her head begged her to run away from this task. Screamed at her to see reason. But she remembered how ove
rcome with grief Berta had been the night before over losing her friend, and she knew that she couldn’t stand by and do nothing. If they were going to survive this, they needed to work together. That meant Jane had to do her part. Even if it was absolutely horrifying.
She lifted her chin and looked right at the manservant. “No. I’m not changing my mind. Let’s do this.”
Already, the air was thinning. As Gabriel followed Jane down the stone stairs, the air was getting more and more stale as they descended into the castle catacombs. The light of the outside world above them was fading fast as they moved further away from the crypt entrance. Only the bright beam of light from the flashlight in Jane’s hand could penetrate the growing darkness.
When he got down off the last step, the temperature seemed to drop several degrees. Suddenly it was colder than he had ever felt it in the castle.
“Too bad there’s no fireplace down here,” Jane said, her breath coming out in puffs.
“We should stay close to each other,” he said, maintaining his grip on the rifle.
She arched an eyebrow, her expression questioning.
“For warmth,” he added, resisting the urge to pull her close and hold her warm, curvy body to his.
“Got it.”
They started to walk side by side, maneuvering around the columns that gleamed as white as bone. Beneath the columns were dozens of sarcophagi, the stone tombs housing the bones of departed von Westens. Every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust that had piled up over the centuries. Filmy cobwebs that strangely reminded him of ghosts floated over the gloomy underground graveyard.
Desperate to banish the haunting silence, Gabriel said, “You’re handling this well.”
“Did you expect me to fall apart?” she asked.
“Wouldn’t blame you if you did,” he said. “This is kind of a messed-up situation.”
“Yes, well, I’ve seen some crazy things go down at my workplace. Drug dealers and disgruntled Johns aren’t exactly the most professional people, you know?”
Wicked Love Page 42