by Cara Summers
Lungs burning, she drew in a breath and then bent over coughing.
He grabbed her arm. “We have to get out of here.”
“There might be…others….” Another fit of coughing cut her off.
“The height of the hedge contained it some, and it’s already blowing away. The sooner we get out, the sooner you can shut the place down. C’mon.” He pulled her along the path. “Is there more than one way out?”
“Yes. What was that? Who was that?”
“Let’s get out of here first.”
She clamped down on the fear. It wasn’t going to help. “Turn right.” After that, she focused on getting them out of the maze. She got this part of it. He didn’t want to run into whomever it was who’d joined them in the center of the maze. But she had more questions, and she intended to have answers.
A HALF HOUR LATER, Ian faced Avery and Jillian across a coffee table in Avery’s suite. Avery had poured three snifters of brandy and ordered up sandwiches. At his insistence, Avery had called Nate Kirby, and before the sheriff arrived, he had to clear up some things with his two bosses.
When they’d finally exited the maze, Avery had been running toward them with a couple of others from the staff and they’d been all been carrying fire extinguishers. Someone had reported the smoke erupting from the center of the maze to the main desk.
Jillian had hastened to assure them and the small crowd that had gathered that it hadn’t been a fire, just a little smoke bomb. A harmless prank. And by that time, most of the smoke had blown away.
He had to give her credit for resiliency. He’d seen the fear and confusion in her eyes when he’d pulled her through that second hedge. But no one would have guessed as she’d handled the situation with the staff and guests. Avery had jumped right on the little bandwagon she’d created, ordering the staff to pull the chain across the entrance and put up a temporary Closed sign.
While those performances were in progress, Ian had kept his eyes on what he could see of the outside hedge. No one had appeared. That didn’t surprise him. Whoever had followed them into the maze had planned it well and would have had an exit strategy. And he was also pretty sure that the smoke bomb was connected to the other incidents. He had some evidence to support that.
What he wasn’t sure of was how he was going to prevent his two bosses from firing him.
Avery lifted his snifter, sipped, then said, “Will someone please fill me in on what happened inside the maze?”
“Tear gas would be my guess,” Ian said. “Sheriff Kirby will be able to verify that. But before he arrives, I think we have to clear up a few things here.” He met their eyes in turn. “Afterward, you can both fire me if you wish.”
He saw a look flash between Avery and Jillian. She spoke first. “Avery hired you? I thought you were just here doing research for a book.”
Avery’s eyes narrowed. “Jillian hired you to do what exactly?”
“Jillian has asked me to find out why the Jenkins men want to buy Haworth House for twice what the Brightman sisters paid for it.”
Avery reached for Jillian’s hand. “Sweetie, is that what they came here for?”
“Details later,” Ian said. “Right now it’s important for Jillian to know that you hired me to investigate three disturbing incidents here at the hotel.”
Jillian frowned at Avery. “What incidents?”
Avery passed the frown on to Ian.
“You can fire me later. Right now, she needs to know because her safety might be involved.”
As Avery described the incidents, Ian studied the two of them. Jillian wasn’t happy with the deception, but she never once pulled her hand from Avery’s. The relationship between them was strong, and he found himself envying that. Aside from his new relationship with his brother Dane, he’d never experienced anything like that.
Jillian pressed her free hand to her temple. “Someone vandalized the air-conditioning system, tried to poison guests with bad mushrooms and strung a wire across the main staircase so that a guest might suffer a serious injury—and you didn’t tell me or my sisters.”
“The incidents could have been unrelated. Just coincidences. I didn’t want to worry any of you until I was sure. It was the staircase thing that did it for me.” Avery jerked his head at Ian. “That’s when I hired him.”
Jillian didn’t look at Ian. “You hired a man who’s here researching a book?”
Avery narrowed his eyes. “Pot calling the kettle black, sweetie. You hired him, too.”
“I wanted him to look into something that has to do with the history of the island. Because I thought he was looking into it anyway. You hired him to investigate possible attempted homicide.”
Avery frowned. “That’s a bit harsh. Jarrell assured me the mushrooms would have merely caused food poisoning.”
“Oh, that’s good. Hire a writer. Problem solved.”
Ian inserted two fingers into his mouth and whistled. The instant he had their undivided attention, he said, “Let me clear this up. I’m not a writer. I’m not Jack Ryan. I’m Ian MacFarland, Dane’s brother, and Avery called me in because he didn’t want to interrupt your sister and my brother’s holiday in the south of France.”
He thought he’d steeled himself. He’d had over half an hour to do that, but he didn’t have any defense when the hurt flashed into her eyes. It pierced him to his core.
It was gone in an instant. The woman was resilient. She bounced back. But that didn’t make him feel one bit better.
He switched his gaze to Avery and saw that his primary boss wasn’t looking at all pleased. “I believe Jillian’s safety requires that she be fully informed. The last two incidents—the vandalism at her store and the tear gas today—involved her personally. And the incidents are escalating—in frequency if not violence so far. The air-conditioning took place two weeks ago, the mushrooms last week, the wire across the stairs, four days ago. But the vandalism at Jillian’s store, the computer glitch here and the tear gas—those have all occurred within a forty-eight-hour period.”
“And they’re becoming public knowledge,” Jillian pointed out. “The air-conditioning, the mushrooms and the accident on the stairs—only certain people knew about them. The vandalism in my store, the computer problems and the smoke bomb in the maze—those are going to feed the gossip mills for some time.”
“You’re right.” Ian had to admire the quick way her mind worked.
“Okay, okay.” Avery turned to Jillian. “He’s making sense. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
Their hands were still clasped tightly. Ian realized that he was the outsider here. “Actually, I think you both hired me to work on the same problem.”
Jillian looked at him then, her eyes cool. “You think the Jenkins men are involved?”
“I can’t discard it as a possibility. I don’t like coincidences. So it’s difficult for me to believe that their sudden offer to buy the place is unrelated. And the timing of the problem with your registration system was…convenient. I need to look into it.”
He looked at Avery. “I’m going to call my friend Cody Marsh and ask him to come here. He can provide extra security for Jillian.” He shifted his eyes to her, then back to Avery. “If you want to fire me, you should know that I’m not leaving until this is cleared up. You can decide whether or not you want to bring the other sisters in on this. I can tell you that Dane won’t hear it from me. Yet. But Nate Kirby should know everything.”
Jillian met his eyes. “I’m not firing you. I want to find out who’s trying to sabotage this hotel.” She turned to Avery. “And we’re telling Nate everything. If that was tear gas in the maze, I don’t think it was some local kid with time on his hands this summer.”
“I agree,” Ian said. “And I have something besides gut instinct to back it up. When I talked to Tess Callahan this morning, she told me that when she witnessed your guest’s tumble down the stairs, there was only one other witness—a man in the lobby. She remembers him for
two reasons. He didn’t come over to help, and he was wearing work boots, not standard attire for hotel guests.”
The ring of the room phone interrupted. Avery lifted the receiver and listened. “Send him up.” He hung up and announced, “Nate’s here. So what’s the significance of the work boots?”
“I didn’t get a good look at the man who dropped the tear gas in the center of the maze, but I did see he wore work boots.”
JILLIAN TOOK HER TIME brewing coffee and arranging mugs and spoons on a tray. She’d offered Nate Kirby a cup the moment he’d entered Avery’s suite. When he’d accepted with some alacrity, she’d nearly kissed him. Then she’d practically run from the room.
The truth was she was playing hostess because she needed a moment to sort things through. To prepare.
But she couldn’t seem to do any of those things. Her mind was still reeling—from the maze and the roller coaster of emotions she’d experienced. She was still struggling to absorb the implications of what Avery and Jack—no, Ian—had revealed to her.
She located napkins and folded them into neat triangles. Then she added more sugar to a crystal bowl.
Stalling was what she was doing. For a moment, she stopped fussing and clasped her hands together. She had three problems here. Behind door number one the fact that someone was trying to hurt Haworth House. And her guests might be in danger. That made her both angry and afraid. But she would get to the bottom of it.
But that made her…situation with Ian MacFarland even more complicated. No way was she going to fire him just because he’d lied to her. If he was as good as his brother was at investigative work, she need him on her side—on her sisters’ sides. On her guests’ sides.
Cutting off her nose to spite her face had never been her style.
So the problem behind door number two was Ian MacFarland himself. She’d wanted simple. A one-night—or perhaps a two- or maybe three-night, okay, a week tops—stand with a stranger. So she’d steamed right ahead in her usual grab-the-moment-and-run fashion.
No use sugarcoating it, she’d used the man to fulfill an adolescent fantasy that she should have outgrown in her teen years.
Now instead of simple, she had incredibly complicated. He wasn’t a stranger. He was the brother of the man her sister Naomi had fallen in love with. So she was going to have to just deal.
But the problem behind door number three was equally scary. Because that problem had everything to do with Jillian Brightman. Even now, knowing he’d lied to her, she couldn’t quite dull what she’d felt in the maze. And it hadn’t been just the sex. Though just thinking about it had her knees going so weak, she had to clutch the edge of the counter for support.
Closing her eyes, she thought of those moments after they’d made love when they were lying there in the dappled sunlight talking. She’d felt something inside her give way. And in spite of the terror she’d experienced running from the tear gas, in spite of the embarrassment of learning she’d been having fantasy sex with her future brother-in-law, she couldn’t seem to get that piece of herself back.
“The coffeepot works better if you press the start button.”
Jillian snapped her eyes open as Avery reached around her to push the button. She hadn’t even heard him approach.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away that I’d hired Ian,” he said.
“You should be.” There was no heat in her voice. “But I can understand it. I don’t want to tell Naomi or Reese unless we absolutely have to.”
“How are you doing?” he asked.
She managed a smile. “I’m fine.”
“Liar. This is Avery you’re talking to. And you’re not fine. For one thing you’ve got your T-shirt on backward. Which pretty much answers any question I might have had about what you and Ian were up to in the maze.”
Jillian nearly groaned. “Do you think Nate noticed?”
Avery’s brows shot up. “Sweetie, he’s a cop. They pick up on the details. When I left the room, Ian was explaining that you and he were alone in the maze until Mr. Work Boots interrupted.”
Jillian waved a hand. “Turn around.” As soon as he complied, she switched her shirt to the right side and tucked it into her slacks.
“I’m going to ask again. Are you all right?”
It wouldn’t do her any good to deny it. Avery knew her better than anyone, perhaps even better than her sisters did. “Ian and me—it’s nothing serious. And it’s…over. I thought we were strangers. Now we’re not. So it’s the…end.”
There, it helped to just say it, spell it out for herself. And she was going to get used to that tight feeling around her heart.
“Why does being strangers make a difference?”
“It was the whole point. We were mutually attracted, but we didn’t know each other from Adam.”
“Okay, I’m being a little thick here. You were strangers…I’m hoping not like strangers on a train.”
She stared at him blankly for a second before she got it. “The Hitchcock movie where they plot to commit murder for each other. No. No, we weren’t that kind of strangers. This was more…you know…the fantasy of being swept away by a stranger.”
“Ah, that fantasy. Swept away like Helen of Troy—that kind of thing. That makes more sense.”
“And it makes sense to end it. Because the fantasy part is over.” The tightening around her heart was easing. She was sure of it. “Unless…”
Her eyes narrowed on him as he turned away to fill the mugs with coffee. “There’s no unless.”
“Well, this place seems to have a knack for fulfilling secret dreams. Naomi’s fantasy about making love with a man of the cloth came true. That’s how she met Dane.”
Ignoring the little sprint of panic, Jillian lifted the tray and started back in to join Nate and Ian. “I have more important things to think about right now such as the safety of our guests.” She shot him a look over her shoulder. “And Helen’s story didn’t turn out so well.”
11
“GENTLEMEN.” JILLIAN SET the tray on the coffee table. “Cream and sugar, Nate?”
“Load it up.” He set down his notebook to take the mug she handed him.
She turned to Ian. “Your preference?”
He hesitated for just an instant, then helped himself. “Black is fine.”
After she’d taken care of Avery and herself, she sat down next to Nate. “I assume the men have filled you in.”
Nate gave Avery and Ian a disapproving look. “A bit after the fact. I want to be kept up to speed from now on.”
“I’ll second that.” Jillian raised her cup and took a sip.
“Avery has given me the wire he found on the stairs. I’m going to check into it. Perhaps it was purchased locally. I sent my deputy, Tim, into the maze when we arrived. He recovered the device that sent up the smoke signal. I’ll have it tested.”
After taking a long swallow of his own coffee, Nate set the mug down and leaned back. “Taken separately, the incidents, except perhaps for this latest, could be viewed as a series of random…annoyances.” He shot another look at Avery. “Since I wasn’t informed about what was happening here at the hotel, I tended to view the vandalism at the former bookstore as just that. But if you hadn’t called me today, I would have contacted you.”
“Why?” Ian leaned forward. “I thought you were satisfied that the damage at Jillian’s store was the work of some high school kids with too much time on their hands.”
“That was a good preliminary theory.” Nate turned to Jillian. “After you left, I took the time to see how the vandal had gotten in. I used the key you left with me. There was no sign of forced entry. No sign that the lock had been tampered with, either.”
“Then how—”
“He either had a key or he has some special tools,” Ian said.
“Right,” Nate agreed. “So it could be the work of a pro. That undercut my preliminary theory. This morning I interviewed the two young men responsible for decorating the wate
r tower near the high school—on more than one occasion, I suspect. I even took them into your store to let them view the kitchen. They were insulted.”
“Insulted?” Jillian asked.
Nate’s lips curved. “Deeply insulted that anyone would think that was their work. More significantly, it turns out they have an alibi. The two of them have been off island for the last couple of weeks attending some kind of high school art fest near Boston. Their art teacher at the high school arranged it and accompanied them. I spoke to your attorney, and he says that your Realtor, Vivian Thorley, took him on a walk-through of the bookstore when she turned over the key. That was ten days ago and the place was fine.”
“So all the incidents have occurred in the past two weeks,” Ian said.
Jillian looked from Ian to Nate. “You both think one person might be behind all of the incidents.”
“That possibility certainly comes to mind,” Nate said.
“And that person might have an accomplice,” Ian said. “Jarrell suspects the mushrooms had to be switched by someone very familiar with the hotel and the way food is delivered.” He met Jillian’s eyes. “And he or she seems to be especially interested in you. You were due to arrive next week. When you arrived early, the incidents became more frequent.”
“But why?” she asked. “Why are they doing this?”
“The message on the wall of your store was pretty clear,” Ian said. “Get out while you still can.”
She swallowed hard and fisted her hands. “I won’t. I’m not going to be scared off. But I don’t want my guests put in danger.”
Nate reached over and put a hand over hers. “So far no one’s been hurt.”
“If Jarrell hadn’t discovered the mushrooms, some of the guests might have gotten ill.” Jillian pressed a hand to her stomach, against the panic that was threatening. “The lady who fell down the stairs could have been hurt. And we were all lucky that no one else was in the maze today. We need to find out who’s doing this.”