by Alicia Scott
“You thought you could get away with it again, didn’t you?” Richard growled low and dark, taking another menacing step toward the bed. “You thought I’d simply stand back and let you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Blaine replied tersely, throwing back the covers and reaching for his robe while his own jaw set. “And at ten in the morning, I don’t really feel like playing games, Richard.”
Richard didn’t reply, his sharp eyes skimming around the room.
“Liz is still alive, you know,” he mentioned almost casually. “Too bad she’s such a good rider, isn’t it?” He moved closer to the bed.
Blaine’s eyes narrowed with shock and confusion. “Something happened to Liz?” Blaine asked sharply, quickly belting his dark green robe.
Richard nodded, his keen eyes unconvinced by the display in front of him. “You can stop the pretense,” he stated coolly. “I’m not buying the act. Five years ago, I didn’t question you, Blaine. Five years ago, I stopped pursuing the truth. I thought it was better to leave the matter in peace. But it’s not five years ago anymore, and it’s not Alycia we’re talking about now. It’s Liz. And so help me God, Blaine—” he moved closer, towering over Blaine as his voice sunk to a menacingly velvet whisper “—if you so much as touch her again, I will kill you myself.”
Blaine’s face paled, but he didn’t back down. He stood there firmly, his own blue eyes sparking with rage.
“You and I have never gotten along,” he began, earning a sarcastic laugh from Richard, “but I’m telling you now, I never tried to harm Liz. For God’s sake, she’s the best thing to ever happen to this household. You think I don’t know that?”
Richard opened his mouth to reply, but Blaine didn’t let him.
“Furthermore,” the younger brother stated, drawing himself up straight, “I did not kill Alycia. I don’t know what you think, and I don’t know what you believe, but I’m not the one who killed her, Richard. And you of all people ought to know that.”
Richard’s face darkened at the accusation, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Far from retreating, Blaine’s own muscles tensed, his eyes daring his brother to go through with it.
And Richard wanted to. At that moment in time, nothing would have given him more pleasure than to slam his fists through his younger brother’s golden face.
For a long tense moment, they glared at each other and let the room fill with the tension. Abruptly, Richard thrust the leather-bound diary between them.
“I know you were blackmailing Alycia,” he growled, throwing out a wild card. “The diary says it all.”
Blaine looked at the book with shock, but Richard’s statement appeared to receive equal bewilderment. “What the hell are you talking about?” Blaine snapped. “And why the hell would I blackmail Alycia? If anything, she could have blackmailed me.”
For a moment, Richard stiffened, and felt the dagger of pain once more. He knew what Blaine was talking about. Andrew, of course. Alycia could have made a mockery of them both over that. Abruptly, his gaze narrowed and his jaw clenched with fierceness. Andrew was his. His! He wouldn’t give up the boy now. Damn it, after the past five years, the least he deserved was his son.
“Andrew’s mine,” he said coldly, his eyes like unsheathed steel. “You had Alycia. That ought to have been enough.”
The words were so brittle, so laced with venom that Blaine winced. “Damn it,” he retorted vehemently. “I’ve never tried to interfere with Andrew. I’ve never even suggested a paternity suit. You only have to watch the kid to know he’s you all over again. Hell, Richard, I remember how you acted when you were six...” He trailed off, raking his hand through his hair, and then it appeared he just couldn’t take any more.
“I loved her, Richard. Do you even know that?” he demanded bitterly, his blue eyes stark. “She’s the only woman I ever loved, and she was a total bitch. Oh, yes, Richard, I realize that, as well. I asked her to marry me, but she had to have you, she had to have the real money. When I came to your wedding, I thought someone might as well skin me alive and salt the wound. I tried to be happy for you, brother. I tried to stand back, but I really loved her. Even when she used us both and played us for fools, I still loved her. I suppose it just goes to show you truly did get all the brains in the family.” He paused and looked at Richard stonily, his eyes level. “And I never forgave you for what you did to her.”
Richard stared at his brother for a long moment, struggling to accept the truth laid out so baldly before them for the first time. He swore, and realized suddenly that he hated the fact that his brother didn’t believe in him. Damn it, they’d been brothers once. Blaine would get into trouble, Richard would think of a way out. They’d grown apart, but they hadn’t been enemies—not until Alycia had come, and they’d both fallen in love and learned of hatred all at once.
“I didn’t kill her,” Richard said stiffly. He could see the disbelief on Blaine’s face, and it needled the pain a little deeper. “I swear to you, Blaine, I was in my lab that day. I’m not saying I didn’t hate her. I’m not saying there weren’t times she drove me to such rages, I could almost feel my hands around her neck. But I never so much as bruised her pinkie. I swear it.”
Blaine sighed heavily and turned away. He took two steps, and dragged his hands through his rumpled blond hair once more. He laughed harshly, and swore at the same time. “So, if you didn’t kill her, Richard, and I didn’t kill her, who did? And why didn’t we ever think of this sooner?”
But they both knew why. Liz Guiness had never arrived as the nanny before, and forced them to look at things a different way.
“I don’t know who,” Richard said darkly. He frowned, and this time his fists knotted with frustration. He began to pace the room, long restless strides that didn’t begin to ease the knot inside his chest. He had to figure this out. He had to get to the bottom of this. Liz’s life depended upon it. He slapped at the diary with one hand, deeming it a hateful thing. “Damn useless book,” he muttered. He turned sharply, pinning Blaine with his gaze as a new thought struck him. “Did you cut up the oil painting?”
In reply, Blaine lowered his head. “I was angry,” he said quietly. “I loved her, and she’d basically fed on my heart. I hated her for that. But, Richard, I cut up the painting nearly three years ago.”
Richard could understand his brother’s rage only too well, and once more he began to pace as he digested this piece of news. “Did you leave a note on Liz’s bed signed from Alycia?” he prodded. Blaine looked startled, and Richard took that as a no. “What about the blackmail? Did Alycia ever talk about that?”
“I didn’t know. Every now and then she’d ask me for money or wheedle me into buying her something. I didn’t think much of it. Except for Jillian, we’re all rather loose with that sort of thing.”
“And Parris?”
Blaine shifted uncomfortably, and once more his jaw set. “So you know about him, as well.”
Richard looked at him darkly. “Alycia liked to tell me things.”
Blaine laughed, that bitter, humorless sound. “Oh, we did pick a winner with her. An absolute prize.”
“But you still associate with Parris.”
Blaine shrugged. “How could I condemn him for my own crime? Besides, Alycia had already scorned me by then. She told me I didn’t have enough backbone.” He looked Richard in the eye, leaving no doubt who she’d compared him to. “Parris, though—” Blaine frowned and looked at Richard intently “—he hates you, you know. He thought he was going to save Alycia from you, and then one week later she was dead. He never could see the truth about her. In his mind, she was the angel, and you were the brute who killed her.”
“Does he hate me enough to go after Liz?” Richard asked. “Could he think it’s revenge?”
Once again, Blaine looked uncomfortable. “He’s my friend, Richard, I’ve known him since college. But then... I don’t know. Alycia did strange things to him. She did strange things to us
all.”
“And Greg?”
Blaine looked more relaxed. “Greg’s the only man I’ve ever met who wasn’t affected by her. He used to give Parris and I both a bad time for falling for her so hard. Alycia never cared for him much. They used to engage in the most intense verbal sparring, but I was never sure who won.”
“And Jillian?” Richard finished, making mental notes of everything. The culprit had to be someone staying in the house, which would include Jillian, Parris, Greg, Mrs. Pram and Dodd. Dodd was ruled out, as he’d only started as cook three years ago. But that left Blaine’s three friends and Mrs. Pram. None of whom he was willing to dismiss offhand.
“I don’t know,” Blaine said at last. He shook his head, and began his own restless pacing. “For crying out loud, Richard, these are my friends we’re talking about. We’ve all been together for ten years now. Hell, Parris and I survived Alycia. Greg is surviving Jillian’s interest in me. You know how we became the gang, Richard? It was one night in Princeton, when we all went out with our dorm and got roaring drunk. The five of us sat outside in the hall and sang ‘Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer On the Wall’ until four in the morning.
“At five, Greg told us about walking into his parents’ bathroom and finding his father hanging from the shower head. I talked about the day the cops came to tell us Mom and Dad were dead and Mrs. Pram looked at us and said we should have been better boys. Then, Jillian confessed her father had declared bankruptcy, and her mother had sold her diamonds to pay her tuition. Her father thought if they could just hold out a little longer, her sickly grandparents would finally die and they’d be all set. Parris talked about coming home to find his mom passed out on the sofa from the alcohol and the drugs—she overdosed our junior year. Finally, Alycia had this real touching story of how she was actually adopted. Her real parents had been nobility who’d been viciously murdered in a coup d’état.” Blaine looked at Richard flatly. “That, of course, was a lie. Then again, she said that night she’d always thought she would die young. I think sometimes that was the only true statement she ever uttered. It doesn’t matter.” Blaine shook his head, looking at Richard with intense eyes.
“At the end of that night, Richard,” he said quietly, “we swore to be friends forever. Through ten years, we’ve stuck to that. It’s the only decent commitment I’ve ever made.”
“Someone’s trying to kill Liz,” Richard said just as quietly, his own eyes unrelenting. His anger had disappeared, though, his pacing stopped, his fists unclenching. He’d never learned so much about his brother as he had now. He’d never realized that not only had they shared a love for the same woman, but a loneliness, as well. Blaine had found his friends, Richard had found his work. Odd, when they could have at least recognized each other.
Now Blaine hung his head and sighed deeply. “I’ll keep tabs on them,” he said finally. “I’ll keep my ears open.”
Richard nodded curtly. “That leaves just Mrs. Pram.”
Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Hell, Richard, Mrs. Pram hates everyone. If she could murder, I think she would have killed us all.”
“But she particularly disliked Alycia.”
“True enough.”
And, Richard thought to himself, Mrs. Pram seemed none too happy with Liz. He glanced down at his watch. It was now nearly eleven, midday approaching. He had a lot of work to get done, he realized, if he wanted everything in place by nightfall.
He trusted Blaine to keep an eye on his friends, but Richard had no intention of leaving anything to chance. First, he would remove Liz and Andrew to safety, and then he would put his genius to work. He hefted the diary in his hand, and nodded thoughtfully to himself.
Tonight. Five years had already been long enough.
He nodded at Blaine curtly, then, already lost in his own thoughts, disappeared down the hall.
* * *
Back in her room, Liz stepped out of the shower and tried to shake the uneasiness away. A glance at the clock revealed it was only ten-thirty, but the room seemed to be growing darker. She glanced out the window, only to find storm clouds moving in.
Great, just great. Now the sky matched the mood of the house. She shivered, and unconsciously pulled on her thickest sweater, as if that could somehow protect her from the encroaching storm.
If only Richard would come to his senses and realize she truly believed in him. If only he would calm down enough so she could talk to him once more. Her nerves were on edge, muscles jumpy from a tension she didn’t fully understand yet. She just knew that at the moment, she would give anything to be back in his arms.
And all of a sudden, pulling on her worn jeans, she missed Maddensfield and her family. She missed those golden days when everything had seemed so simple and sure, when dreams had lived and lovers had loved, when it had seemed everyone would grow old, laughing. The days when she could run with her brothers through tall fields, chasing summer’s exhilaration with coltish legs, brace-filled teeth, and—
Abruptly the phone rang, scattering her hazy memories. The childhood day was suddenly gone and she was back to being the adult Liz again, sitting in a darkened room with shadowed corners. Puzzled, she picked up the phone next to the bed.
“Hello?” she asked, sitting down tentatively on the edge of the bed.
“A Mr. Guiness for you,” came the distinctly disapproving voice of Mrs. Pram. Then, before Liz had time to reply, there was the sharp click of Mrs. Pram hanging up.
“Liz?” came a deep male voice Liz would have recognized anywhere. “Liz, are you all right?”
She couldn’t help herself, a smile broke out across her face even as the tears welled up in her eyes. The past and the present, the sunshine and shadows merged suddenly, all with the sound of his voice. It was Mitch, her dear, oldest brother, who always knew exactly when to call and exactly what to say.
“Of course I’m all right,” she replied, though her voice came out choked and tear-soaked. “How are you?”
“Fine, fine,” Mitch said, his voice dismissive. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
Liz nodded into the phone, suddenly understanding completely. “You had one of your spells, didn’t you?” she asked calmly. Mitch never liked to talk about it, but every now and then, he got these intuitions, very strong intuitions. Like the one that had him on a plane back to Maddensfield even as Nick was being shot. The one that had led him to the hospital first, so he could hold her in his big strong arms while she cried out all her shock and grief and horror.
“Yeah,” Mitch agreed gruffly. “I did. Now, are you going to tell your big brother what’s going on?”
It was tempting, Liz thought. Tempting just to tell him everything. From the time she was born, she’d been convinced there was nothing Mitch couldn’t do, and over the years, he’d never disappointed her. The eldest of her four brothers, he was the most responsible one. He had been the one to bring home all sorts of stray animals, quietly and thoroughly caring for each one, much as he had looked after his four younger siblings. He worked for the FBI now, and though he didn’t talk about his job much, Liz knew all she had to do was tell him everything, and he would take care of her.
But, as she tucked the receiver against her ear, Liz knew she wouldn’t tell him about Richard’s bitter past or the looming present dangers. Because she’d come here to grow, to build a new life away from Maddensfield. And that meant standing on her own two feet. That meant fighting her own wars and slaying her own dragons.
“There was just a small accident,” she said at last. “But no one was hurt. Honest.”
There was silence on the other end as Mitch was apparently considering this information. And in that silence, she could hear his disbelief.
“Is the family treating you all right?” Mitch asked finally.
Liz didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “They’re not exactly what I was expecting,” she admitted. “But Mitch, the little boy here, he needs me so much. And I know I can help him. It’s just going to take time and
a miracle or two.”
“If anyone can work a miracle,” Mitch told her assuredly, “you can.”
She felt another tear well up, streaking down her face. God, it was so good to hear his voice, to hear one person make it all seem so simple again. And for an instant, she almost gave in and told him everything. But then her resolution came back to her, and she stiffened her spine.
“Learn any good magic tricks lately?” she asked instead, switching the topic altogether. In her mind, she could see his answering smile.
“None as good as the disappearing act you pulled,” he told her lightly.
“What about women?” she teased, beginning to regain her composure now. “Any good blondes to break your heart?”
“Now, you know, little sis, you’ll be the only woman capable of breaking my heart.”
She laughed, the sound still wobbly, but getting better. Then she sobered.
“Things really are all right,” she told him, serious now. “I’m glad I did this, Mitch. I’m glad I came here. It was the right thing to do.”
There was another small moment of silence, then at last she could hear the pent-up sigh in his voice.
“Listen,” Mitch said, his voice as serious as her own, “I’ve got to go away for a couple of weeks. You know the drill. But if you need me, Liz, if you need anything at all, you let me know, okay? Contact the number in D.C. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
“I know,” she told him, “but honestly, Mitch, I can handle this. Your little sister is growing up, you know?”
“I know, I know,” he said, but his voice said he didn’t find the idea comforting. “Well, I’d better let you get your beauty rest. Take care, Liz. And, well—” his voice grew a little gruff “—I’m proud of you. And I love you.”
She smiled, feeling the tears threaten again. She took a steadying breath. “I love you, too, big brother. And Mitch, be careful.”
He agreed as he always did, and then he was gone, just the dial tone ringing in her ear. She set the receiver down slowly, willing the tightness in her chest to leave her. It was good to talk to Mitch, good to hear his voice. When Nick had died, she might have fallen apart completely if it hadn’t been for Mitch. He’d been the shoulder she’d cried on. And when she’d started to heal, he’d been the one she’d laughed with as he teased her with his magic tricks.