Under Lock and Key

by Sylvie Kurtz

  She had just decided to ignore him when the distant popping of gravel on the road penetrated her preoccupied mind. The grating of the portcullis at the gatehouse announced that the visitor was no stranger. Soon a set of headlights cut across the courtyard.

  Her sister, Tia, dressed in a body-hugging red sundress, emerged from the equally bright-red sportscar and blew a kiss at the unseen driver behind the tinted glass. “See you later, Drake.”

  She waved at the departing car, then spun toward the kitchen door, long brown hair flying around her.

  “Melissa?” she called at the top of her voice.

  Melissa smiled. There was nothing subtle about Tia. That was what Melissa liked about her sister—no pretension. What you saw was what you got. Which only made Tyler’s claim of a family conspiracy to dispose of her seem that much more ludicrous. Tia had never cared about Melissa’s looks, and the castle was a source of solace for the young girl from whom Sable expected so much.

  “Melissa? Where are you?” At the sound of Tia’s voice, Selma snapped her tail, hissed and struggled out of Tyler’s lap. Tail waving from side to side, the cat disappeared out the postern door. Selma preferred a calmer approach than Tia’s whirlwind.

  Usually her sister’s visits were like a ray of sunshine, but Tyler’s presence complicated things. Tia’s lack of subtlety often made social situations embarrassing—providing Sable with a constant source of irritation. Tyler would surely take Tia’s brashness the wrong way and fuel his conspiracy theory with it. The only way to salvage the situation was to keep them apart.

  Melissa moved out of the shadows to intercept her sister, but she was too late. With Selma’s hurried departure, Tia swirled in Tyler’s direction. “Melissa? Is that you?”

  “No,” Tyler said. There was much too much interest in that simple word.

  “Male? How interesting.” Tia’s hips swayed provocatively as she sashayed toward him. “Melissa doesn’t have any friends, especially male ones.” At the gazebo stairs, she held her hands and handbag behind her and swung coquettishly from side to side, making sure he didn’t miss any of her tantalizing curves. The once-over she gave him resulted in a glow of approval and had Melissa tightening her fists. “My, my, aren’t you a handsome one. Where did she find you?”

  “Passed out at her front gate.” Tyler leaned back on the gazebo frame, stretching out his long legs before him. His smile seemed amused at her sister’s overt sexuality. Melissa ground her teeth and walked faster.

  Tia raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Ah, yes, my dear sister does tend to collect strays.” She flopped in a very unladylike manner on the bench beside him.

  “Tia Carnes,” she said, extending a well-manicured hand to him. He took it and skimmed his lips over her knuckles. Tia blushed and giggled at the Old World gesture. Melissa frowned. “Tia as in the Egyptian princess, not the Spanish aunt.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Tia.”

  A mischievous glint gleamed in her big brown eyes. She leaned forward and whispered, “Have you seen her face yet?”

  “Tia.” Melissa’s voice pierced the night. The racing of her heart and the prickle of sweat on her brow had nothing to do with Tyler and everything to do with her fast walk to prevent disaster. She hugged her sister, hoping to draw her away from Tyler. No such luck. Tia held her ground. “How nice of you to visit.”

  “You’re keeping secrets, Mel,” Tia teased. She remained seated and squeezed Tyler’s knee, staking her claim to the handsome male. Who could blame her? Who could blame him for appreciating the attention of a beautiful female?

  “There’s no secret,” Melissa said more harshly than planned. “He was hurt in a car accident and ended up here.”

  “I see.” Tia arched one eyebrow. “End of conversation.”

  Of course Tia would notice the unwarranted edge to her voice and pout. Melissa softened her tone. “I saw your car drive away. Are you staying the night?”

  “Here? No. Drake has business nearby and couldn’t stay. I just wanted to drive out with him. Thought I’d stop by and say hello.” She beamed a smile at Tyler and all but batted her lashes. “So glad I did. Mother’s at some charity thing in Weatherford. She’ll be by in a bit to pick me up.”

  Oh, great. Tyler would get to meet Sable and feed his conspiracy frenzy. Stay calm. You can deal with this. Keep it all light and airy. “I take it this Drake is your latest flame.”

  Tia blushed like a proper Southern belle. “Oh, Mel, he’s so-o-o dreamy. This time it’s the real thing. I’m in love!”

  This from the girl who only minutes ago had shamelessly flirted with a man she didn’t even know. Melissa laughed gently. “Um, that’s what you said last time, too.”

  Forgetting Tyler, Tia swiveled toward Melissa, put both her hands over her heart and sighed. “It’s different this time. I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s so…oh, Mel, he’s just perfect. Sweet, attentive, strong. Even Mother can’t find fault with him—he’s from old money. Oil or something.”

  Melissa slanted Tyler a triumphant glance. See? she silently told him. She has no need for my money.

  Tyler raised an eyebrow as if to say the jury was still out on that conclusion. Tia’s mention of money seemed to give him ammunition for rather than quell his off-base theory. She had to get Tia out of the way. “Do you want to go out for a ride?”

  “Well, I won’t be staying that long.” Tia looked down at her lap and smoothed the skirt of her dress. “Since I’m here, anyway, I thought I’d see if you’d do me a little favor.”

  “Oh?”

  “I need a teensy loan to see me through the month.”

  Tyler’s grin was gloating. Great. They were going from bad to worse. “Tia, you just got your allowance.”

  Tia frowned as if she were a child denied candy. “What do you need it for? You never leave this place.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  Tia reached for Melissa’s right hand and trapped it between both of hers. “I want him, Mel. I want to be sure I get everything right. I saw an image consultant yesterday and she said the best way to build a wardrobe is to buy everything at once to make sure all the pieces match. She’s taking me shopping next week. And if you think about it, it’s actually going to save us money in the long run.” Tia’s gaze pleaded. “I’m working really hard at being proper. I want to please Drake.”

  Package presentation. Melissa hated Sable for teaching Tia that outer beauty and charm were more important than the true beauty Tia’s guileless personality gave her. “He should be showering you with gifts.”

  Tia’s brow furrowed. “Don’t make me beg, Mel.” There was a cold edge to her voice and a belligerence to her stance. If this kept up, Tyler would definitely think Tia was out to get her.

  “How much?”

  Tia’s voice brightened. “Only a few thousand, and I’ll model every piece for you. You’ll see it’s money well spent. This image consultant has a really good reputation.” Tia dug into her purse and drew out a card. “Check her out if you want. You’ve heard Sable talk about Jane Harrigan? Flora and Augustus Harrigan’s daughter? You know the horse-faced girl with no chest? Well, once Christie was done with her, Jane bowled over the country club at the annual ball. Would you believe she’s getting married? To Colm Hempfel of Hempfel’s Department Stores, no less.”

  They chatted for a while about Tia’s plans for the summer, Tia’s new love, Tia’s life. Melissa listened attentively, asking all the right questions, wishing for once that Sable would hurry and fetch her daughter. All the while Tyler’s gaze drilled deeper and deeper into her, itching like a rash she couldn’t reach. How skewed were his perceptions of her sister? How much damage control would she have to do?

  The conversation finally sputtered to an end, and Melissa almost sighed her relief.

  “Did Grace do any baking today?” Tia asked.

  Melissa smiled. Tia was always one for forbidden fruit. Sweets weren’t permitted in Sable’s kitchen. Bad for the figure. �
�Chocolate-chunk pecan brownies.”

  “Oh, her brownies are simply the best.” Tia frowned, then gave a careless shrug. “I’ll diet tomorrow.” She got up, rolled her hips sexily as she glided down the gazebo steps, then turned and cocked her head. “Would you like to join me, uh… I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

  “Tyler. Thanks, but I’ve already sampled more than my fair share of Grace’s brownies today.”

  “Pity.” Tia waggled her fingers at them and left. The sway of her hips told them that she knew Tyler was watching every move and that she was enjoying his attention.

  “She’s barely twenty-one,” Melissa said, crossing her arms. Biting her lower lip, she wished she’d held her tongue.

  “She’s not my type.”

  “Looks like you’re enjoying the view.”

  His grin was all male. “Admiring and touching are two different things. I’m bruised, not dead.”

  No, he was very much alive and much too distracting. Just when she thought she could earn a reprieve and head for the stables, Sable’s car rattled over the wooden drawbridge and its headlights flooded the courtyard.

  The black Lincoln Town Car stopped by the chapel. Sable exited, long tanned legs first. She moved toward the gazebo with precise grace, eyes darting in all directions as if she expected some unseen monster to pounce on her at any moment. She’d never liked the castle, and once she’d married William Carnes, it had taken her less than two months to convince her husband to live in the city.

  “Where’s Tia?” she asked. No, “Hello, how are you?” Just, “Where’s Tia?” Tyler would make a big deal out of this, not understanding that she and Sable actually respected each other—even if they didn’t care for each other personally.

  “In the kitchen with Grace.”

  “Chocolate?”

  “Brownies.”

  Sable shook her head. “She knows sweets ruin her complexion.”

  “She can restrain herself to one.” And would eat it in miniature bites to make it last as long as she could. Watching Tia eat was a treat in itself.

  “Let’s hope so.” Sable waved a hand toward the kitchen. “I’ll, uh, go get her and we’ll be on our way.”

  As he had with Tia, Tyler watched Sable’s elegant figure disappear into the kitchen. Even at fifty-one Sable could turn men’s heads.

  “So,” Tyler said, circling his keen gaze back to her. Was he comparing? How could she help but fall short? She toyed with the shawl covering her face, arranging it so that no skin showed.

  “So what?” Melissa bent and fussed with the roses surrounding the gazebo. Maybe she should go back inside, find the pruning shears and gather a bouquet for her quarters.

  “We have motive.”

  She straightened and cut him with a glare. “We have nothing.”

  “Your sister’s been here for what? Forty-five minutes?”

  Melissa shrugged. “So?”

  “She didn’t once ask how you were doing, how you were feeling, how your life was going. Neither did your stepmother.”

  “It’s not like this is a hotbed of activity. Nothing ever happens here. They know that.”

  He stood and stretched, reminding her of a predator stirring before a hunt. “Tia’s charming, totally self-centered and obsessed with money. Like daughter, like mother?”

  That languid flexing of muscle caused a flutter low in her belly. “You’re wrong. There’s a difference between pampered and predatory. Besides, neither plays chess.”

  “They don’t have to. The warning came from someone else. Someone who knows them.”

  “Someone who says he wants to protect me?” She swallowed the bitterness burning her tongue. “Something Freddy Gold made up?”

  “Freddy doesn’t have the time or the inclination to make something like this up right now.”

  No, Freddy was always too busy for family. He’d made that abundantly clear over the years. Her finger caught on a thorn, breaking the skin. She folded her finger into her palm, putting pressure on the shard of pain.

  Tyler stepped off the gazebo and moved to stand next to her. “I’m sure Tia’s allowance is generous, yet she wanted more.”

  “She had a good reason,” Melissa said, shrugging a shoulder and concentrating on the roses. “She’s beautiful. Why not show off?”

  He reached for a spent blossom and nipped it off with this thumb and forefinger. The petals floated through his fingers. “But you don’t have access to the trust fund until next month. Does she realize her teensy loan is coming directly from your pocket?”

  “Like she said, what use is it to me?” He was much too sharp. And much too close. She didn’t like the tension coiling in her stomach or the way the heat of his body seemed to seek hers. She bent down and sniffed a half-opened rose, letting its perfume obliterate Tyler’s clean male scent.

  He reached across her, making her step back only to find part of his body blocking her escape. His solid presence made her skittish, but she couldn’t move without touching him, and she feared the jolt and recoil that would cause. He plucked the bloom whose fragrance she’d just sampled. With a swift movement of fingers, he stripped the leaves and soft thorns, then he stretched his hand toward her. She turned her face away. He captured her chin through the shawl. Her hands came up and grasped his wrist to push him away. The unexpected softness of the skin there seemed to fuse her fingers in place.

  Their gazes met, sharp and heated. Her mouth opened to take in more air and found none. Every line of his face, every shade of color in his dark hair became etched in her mind. He slipped the flower’s stem between the material of the shawl and her hair. She closed her eyes and cursed herself for her thundering heart, for not slapping his hand away, for not running. When he bent his head toward her, she shivered.

  “Do you realize,” he whispered, his deep voice vibrating in her ear, “that the teensy loan you’re advancing your sister could be the down payment for your own murder?”

  Her eyes snapped open. She shoved his wrist away and scrambled back as if she’d barely escaped the jaws of a shark. A shark, she reminded herself, who was hungry for a story. Hungry enough to conjure up something out of nothing—just as Brent Westfield had done. She snatched the flower from her hair and tossed it into the bushes. “Really, you’re being ridiculous. Does Tia look like the type of woman who could even think of such a scheme?”

  “She looks like the type of woman who’s self-absorbed enough, greedy enough, to dispose of any obstacle between her and the money that fuels her extravagant lifestyle.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “She’s spoiled and wants more.”

  “She’s young and knows there’s more than enough.”

  “Don’t underestimate the lust for money.”

  Remembering his recent ambition-caused failure, she flung it back at him. “Speaking from experience?”

  He acknowledged the hit with a slight nod. “I’ve cornered a lot of rats in my line of work. And always there was money at the bottom.”

  “This time you’re wrong.” He was on the move again, slow and sure like a cat on a mouse, making her arms and legs twitch with the need to run. “Tia and Sable lack for nothing.”

  “Except control.” His voice was a low growl. “How do you think they feel having to come to you for every penny they want, having to explain themselves, their needs, their desires?”

  Though Melissa wouldn’t admit it out loud, she did hold the power in this odd little family. And worse, she liked it. Did Tia and Sable resent her hold over them enough to want her dead? She turned and started toward the stable. “You’re wrong.”

  Tyler’s fingers clamped her shoulder like talons, holding her in place. “Then stop fighting me and help me prove it. The sooner we rule them out as suspects, the sooner we can move toward the truth.”

  “What if you’re wrong?” She glanced at him over her shoulder. The moon’s light accentuated the beauty of his features, sending a wave of disappointment coursing thr
ough her. “What if there is no one out to get me? What if it’s all a figment of Freddy’s imagination?”

  “Then you’ll have a good excuse to go chew out Freddy and maybe make up whatever went wrong between you. He’s family, too.”

  A GOOD GALLOP on Eclipse would help dispel the tension stringing her tighter than a bow ready to release its arrow.

  Sensing her mood, Eclipse pawed the wood chips in his stall. Melissa grabbed the rainbow-colored rope from the tack room across the stall and pulled it over the stallion’s head and onto his neck. After leading him into the courtyard, she vaulted onto his back effortlessly. By the time she’d made it out the postern door to the open fields where it was safe to gallop, most of her anger had dissipated and she was content to let the rhythm of Eclipse’s powerful walk lull the rest of her tension away.

  What did Tyler Blackwell know, anyway? He was a washed-up reporter trying to rebuild a shattered career. Tia and Sable and she didn’t have the best of relationships, but it worked for them. Freddy was the one who’d abandoned her to the hyenas and forced her to forge these tenuous bonds. What business did he have meddling with situations he understood nothing about? Had he made up the warning with the chess piece? What could the mason who’d started to repair the towers have to do with anything?

  No one else even knew her. Her business clients dealt with Deanna. Grace took care of managing the household. The people of Fallen Moon didn’t exactly welcome her, but they were happy enough to leave her alone, if only to ensure she paid her town-supporting tax bill on time.

  Who would know her well enough to send Freddy the article and chess piece? Dee and Grace both would have come to her with their suspicions of harm before going to Freddy—especially if Sable or Tia were involved.

  No one had any reason to scare her, except it seemed, the uncle who’d sent a reporter, of all people, to “protect” her and thereby buy his way back into her life. He was too late for that—by twenty years. She’d needed him then. She didn’t need him now.