He grabs me by the ass and hauls me into the bathroom. “I’ll take your apology in the shower.”
Curling my hands around his neck, I whisper, “Okay.” It’s the least I can do.
We linger over our good-byes. He doesn’t want to let go, and I don’t want to leave.
“I’ll take the elevator down with you.”
“You don’t have to. My car’s parked across the street at the hotel.”
“I’ll walk you there.”
“Okay, fine.” I’m not going to win this argument, so I give in.
The elevator dings on the way down. A stop on the tenth floor. Holding hands, we scoot back toward the elevator wall to allow room for the next passenger. To my surprise, it’s my best friend and her new beau.
“Cristina!”
“Mad.” When her gaze zeroes in on our linked hands, my face flames. I don’t want her knowing about Steele and me. But it’s too late.
“This is Trenton Steele.” The words emerge in a strained whisper.
Her brow curls upward almost to her hairline. She knows exactly who he is. But she knows better than to say anything right now.
She sticks out her hand, and he shakes it. “Cristina Sanchez, and this is Scott McCarthy.”
“Pleasure.” Scott, unaware of the current of tension between Cristina and me, smiles and does the polite thing.
“Going out?” Cristina asks.
“No. I’m headed home.”
“Oh.” Well that should give her something to think about.
“And you?” I ask.
“The zoo to see the baby panda.”
“Well, have a great time.” Leaving them behind, I drag Trenton from the elevator and race to the exit of his building.
“What’s wrong? That was rude, and you’re never rude.”
I gaze up at him while we wait for the light to change. “She’s my best friend, and she saw us. Together.”
His nostrils flare. He’s angry. At me. But as I start to cross the street, he pulls me back to protect me from a car making a turn right into us. It’s Sunday afternoon, for heaven’s sake. There shouldn’t be this much traffic. When we get to the hotel, I hand my ticket to the valet.
While he gets my car, I dart nervous glances at Steele. “I’m sorry.”
“I get it. You don’t want to be seen with me.”
“You’re my boss. She’ll read me the riot act. I just know it.”
“So not only do you worry about your grandfather ruling your life but your best friend as well.”
“Her opinion matters to me.”
He pounds a hand against his chest. “What about mine? Does mine matter?”
“Of course it does.”
“I’m what? Third on the list. No. Not that high. There’s Olivia and Mitch and your sister, of course. Is there somebody else you’d like to consult before you take another step?”
“Why are you angry at me?”
I yank a hand through my hair. “You need to take control of your life and not let anyone rule you. Not your grandfather, not your friend, not even me.”
“You? You’re nothing to me but my boss.”
His face turns to stone.
I realize what a shitty thing I’ve said, but it’s too late to take it back. As my car pulls up, I whisper, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
“Yeah, you did. You’re right. I am your boss. Maybe it’s time I remembered that. Good-bye, Madrigal. Have a nice life.”
And then he strides away, beautiful and strong, leaving me bleeding inside. How could I have said such a thing after everything he’s done for me? Because I’m terrified of what will happen if I let him in, that’s why. But the thing is I already shared my dreams, my fears with Steele. So that’s not it. The truth is I don’t want to acknowledge I care for him, because one day he’ll leave, and it will devastate me. Fighting back the tears, I tip the attendant and get behind the wheel. Once I’m on the road, I debate calling him to apologize, but before I can do that, my phone rings.
My Bluetooth’s attached to the steering wheel. Hoping the call’s from him, I press the right button. But to my disappointment, it’s Cristina.
“I thought you were on the way to the zoo,” I say.
“We are, but I had to call. Mad, what are you doing?”
“At the moment? Driving home.” That’s not what she means, I know, but I can’t help the snark.
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“I’m not going to conduct this conversation with your latest boy toy listening in.”
“That’s not—querido, you’re not my boy toy.”
A masculine laugh rolls over the phone. “I don’t have a problem with that. You can play with me all you want, querida.”
Great. She’s taught him her favorite pet endearment.
“Ooh, is he a keeper or what?” she asks.
I have to give credit where credit is due. “Yeah, he is.”
“So Trenton Steele?”
“Yes.”
“You do know who he is?”
“Of course I do. I work for him.”
“I’m not talking about his profession. I’m talking about his reputation with women.”
“How would you know about his reputation?”
“He’s got quite a rep at Justice. Women throw themselves at him all the time. He catches them too. A different woman for every season.”
“So I’m supposed to be summer? Is that it?”
“Madrigal, I don’t want to see you hurt. That’s all. You never even dated in law school. And now? You skipped the farm team and went right to the majors with him. He’s a wolf in wolf’s clothing. He’ll eat you up and spit you out.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about it because I’m pretty sure he just broke up with me.”
“Oh, honey. What happened?” She tones down her voice. “It wasn’t me and my big mouth, was it?”
“No. This time it was mine. Look, I have to go. It’s starting to rain, and I have to pay attention to the road.” A lame excuse, but it’s the best I can do.
“Okay. Call me later if you want to talk.”
“Bye. Thanks, Cristina.” I know she means well, but right now I don’t need to hear about Trenton’s reputation. I know women fall for him. Hell, I see the way they look at him around the office.
I arrive home to find a clearly disturbed Olivia at the door. She’s trembling, and her eyes are red.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as soon as I step inside.
“Madison’s gone.”
My heart plummets to my stomach. “What do you mean gone?”
“She discovered your mother’s diary on your bed.”
Oh, God. I’d been so upset that I hadn’t bothered to hide it before I ran out. And Madison read those words? “Her screams woke me. When I came into your room, she was sobbing so hard I could barely understand her. I tried to calm her down, but she ran downstairs to your grandfather’s study. They argued, loud, hurtful words. When she ran to the stables, I went after her, but she saddled Marigold and took off.” Goodness knows Madison is an accomplished rider, but in her current mood she might not be as careful and could end up harming her horse or herself.
“Why didn’t Hartley stop her?” Hartley is our head groom.
“He’s not scheduled to work today. Your grandfather sent another groom after her. Neither has returned.”
“Where’s Gramps?”
“In his study with Hartley. He called him in. They’re rounding up more riders to search for her. Hopefully they’ll find her before she gets hurt.”
Shaking, I knock on Gramps’s study.
“Who is it?” he barks.
“It’s me, Gramps.”
“Come in.”
Trembling with
emotion, I walk inside.
The look he shoots me skewers me to the spot.
Hartley stands in front of Gramps’s desk, cap in hand, wearing his usual riding pants and boots. “I should have news soon, Mr. Gardiner. Riders went out half an hour ago.”
“I want to know what they find. Good or bad. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir.” Hartley’s head bobs up and down along with his Adam’s apple. He probably blames himself for not being in the stable. He shouldn’t. He can’t be here twenty-four hours a day.
“Oh, and that idiot groom that allowed her to saddle her horse? Fire him.”
That’s so unfair, but there’s no sense arguing that point right now. Not as angry as my grandfather is.
“Thanks, Hartley,” I say.
Our head groom nods to me before striding out the door, no doubt glad to be out of the line of fire.
“Hartley will find her,” Gramps says.
“I hope so.” The rain’s coming down harder now than when I left Steele. Not a soft summer rain either, but one of those late-afternoon storms with thunder and lightning. With visibility a factor and the terrain uneven, Marigold could step into a hole and break a leg.
“She shouldn’t have run out like that,” Gramps says.
“She was upset after reading our mother’s diary. Did she tell you what was in it? About what our father did to our mother?”
He stomps to me and grips my upper arms so hard it hurts. “You can never tell a soul. Not ever. If it ever got out, your chances of marrying well would be ruined.” The look in Gramps’s eyes tells me he’d known about the abuse. How could he know such a thing and not do anything about it?
I wrestle free of his grasp. “You knew what he was doing to her and you let it happen?”
“I didn’t know. I swear to you. Not at the time. It was only after . . .” A wave of sorrow rolls over his face, and his anger fades. Stumbling to the chair that he and his father and his father’s father have occupied for centuries, he collapses into it. “You have to believe me, Madrigal.”
In less than a minute, he’s aged over ten years. Grief has vanished that veneer of pretense he trots out every day meant to show that everything’s fine in his world. At some point in the future, we’ll need to deal with his hiding the truth from me. But right now something else is more important.
“It doesn’t matter what I believe. We have to find Madison. She couldn’t have gone far.” Our estate is extensive, but several riders could easily cover the grounds in less than an hour. As long as she hasn’t left the property, they’ll find her. But if she leaves, with the sky pouring buckets of rain, they’ll have a difficult time tracking her down.
Half an hour later, Hartley returns with his report. “They picked up the trail as far as the creek before it disappeared.”
She wouldn’t have chanced crossing that creek as treacherous as it is this close to home. No. She would have traveled upstream for the nearest safe place to navigate. Or holed up somewhere. Time to bring in the cavalry. “We need to call the police. She could be hurt.”
“No. We’re not involving the police. If we do, we’ll have to explain why she ran off. And what happened to your mother will come out. It’ll make the papers. Don’t you see?”
“We don’t have to tell them the reason she ran away. We can make up a story. I’m sure she’s not the first teenager to get angry and take off.”
He pounds the desk, face florid with rage. “I forbid you to call the police. Do you hear me?”
He’s losing it, and I can’t deal with this alone anymore. “Fine. I won’t call them, but I am calling someone else.” I pick up my cell and dial the man I just left behind.
“Who?”
“Trenton Steele.”
“Why?”
Steele answers on the second ring. “Madrigal.” He still sounds angry with me.
I don’t waste time explaining the details. “Madison’s missing. She took her horse. Call Mitch. Come here.”
My grandfather yanks the phone from my hand. “Why are you calling him? What good is he going to do?”
“He’s going to help me find her just like he’s helping me figure out who killed my parents.”
“What? It was those handymen. They did it.”
“No. They did not.”
His eyes bug out. “You can’t get Trenton Steele involved. He’s relentless. He won’t stop until he discovers the truth.”
“What is the truth? Do you know? Do you know, Grandfather?” For the first time ever, I don’t call him Gramps.
He doesn’t answer. Deep down inside, I suspect he knows the truth. And whatever it is has him terrified.
CHAPTER 28
Trenton
By the time I arrive at Madrigal’s home, Mitch is already there.
“Thank God you’re here,” Madrigal says as soon as I walk through the door. From the wild-eyed look to her, I gather things are not going well.
“No sign of Madison?”
“No. And it’s been two hours since she took off. One of the riders tracked her as far as the creek, and then her trail disappeared.” Clutching me, she rests against my chest. “I’m so scared, Steele.”
“It will be all right, you’ll see.” I embrace her and drop a kiss on her head.
Wiping away tears from her face, she nods. “Mitch is in the study with Gramps, who’s yelling, pounding his desk, and not listening to anything Mitch or I have to say.”
Should have known. From the sounds coming from the study, Mitch and Holden are engaged in a screaming match.
“You have to call the police. They have search and rescue teams trained to track people down!” Mitch yells.
“I’m not going public with this. She’ll come home soon. You’ll see. She has to be hungry by now. You know how much she loves to eat.”
“Not if she fell off her horse, she won’t. What if she’s injured?”
“Marigold would have come back to the stable. We just have to give it time.” It’s clear Holden’s pride won’t allow his family’s failings to become public even if it costs him his granddaughter’s life.
“They’ve been going on like that since Mitch arrived twenty minutes ago.”
“I gather. What can I do?”
“I can’t stay here doing nothing. I need to look for her. There’s a place we used to ride to when we were younger and played hide-and-seek. Maybe she sought shelter there from the rain. We can use the Jeep.”
I take her hand and head out the door. “Let’s go.”
The garage houses several cars—a Lincoln Town Car, a Mercedes, an SUV, a Jeep.
We climb into the Jeep. When she shifts gears, I cover her hand with mine. “I’m sure she’s fine, Madrigal. You’ll see.”
Leaving the estate behind, she heads onto Route 50. Fifteen minutes later she veers onto a side road, a dirt one. She manages the wet terrain with a sure hand.
“You’ve driven this way before.”
“Yes. Sometimes when things got to be a bit too much at home, I’d go for a ride.”
“In the Jeep?”
She nods. “Madison would go as well, but she’d ride Marigold.”
She shifts again. But then she comes to a rolling stop. “There it is.”
To say I’m amazed is an understatement. What stands in front of us is a stone structure that resembles a tower from a medieval castle.
“Who on earth built that?”
“An old Virginia family with delusions of grandeur. They intended to build an entire castle, but the Civil War interrupted the construction. Their finances never recovered after that.”
“You and your sister played here? It looks like it could tumble down any minute.” Stone bricks are missing, and the turret is open to the sky.
“The turret was still whole when we played in it. I ha
ven’t been back since high school.”
“I don’t see a horse.”
“There’s a shed on the other side. Maybe she stabled Marigold there.”
We climb out of the Jeep and trudge through the mud to the tower. Only one hinge keeps the door secured, and that has a screw missing. With care, I pry it open and am surprised at how heavy it is. Nothing but dark and dampness inside. And the stench tells us creatures have made themselves at home. When Madrigal takes a step forward, I grab her arm. “Don’t. A wild animal may be in there.”
“What if Madison is too?”
Hopefully her sister has more sense than to seek shelter in such a dangerous structure. “Call her name.”
“Madison, it’s Madrigal. Are you in here?”
Nothing but silence greets us.
She calls again with the same results.
“Let’s go check out that shed.”
There we find no evidence of Madison or her horse.
“She’s not here.” She sweeps back a lock of wet hair. “I was so sure she would be.”
“Maybe she took shelter in somebody’s house. Who owns this land?”
“It used to belong to the Wellingfords. The family died out. No one could afford to buy the property, not with the amount of back taxes owed. So it reverted to the Commonwealth of Virginia.”
“This is prime real estate. You’d think someone would buy the land and build a bunch of houses on it.”
“Most people find it too far from DC to commute. No. It’s best as a farm or a place to raise horses.”
“Or a winery. There are lots of them in this part of Virginia.”
“Maybe.”
I squint. The rain’s let up, and I spot some buildings in the distance. “What is that?” I ask, pointing in that direction.
“Middleburg.”
“Maybe she sought shelter there.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think she’d ride that far.”
“We won’t know unless we go and find out.”
“Okay.” We climb back in the Jeep and head west to the town of Middleburg.
“Do they have a stable?”
She snorts. “This is horse country. Of course the town has a stable.”
By the time we pull into the Middleburg Stables, the rain has finally stopped. In our haste, we hadn’t bothered with protective gear. We’re soaking wet. Madrigal’s glorious hair cascades in wet strands down her back. As soon as we go in, she spots a young woman currying a horse.
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