Hale accepted that with a twist of his lips. “His home was broken into last night and he was badly beaten.”
“Oh my God!” Gabby gasped.
Hale continued. “His wife and children were left unharmed so we believe it was a targeted attack. Luckily for us, he managed to fight back. One assailant fled the scene. The other was rendered unconscious in the struggle and we were able to take him into custody.” He paused, tapped his pen against the open page of his pad. He glanced at his partner again briefly before focusing on Gabby again. “They were hired by your father. We’re not yet clear why, but we believe it has something to do with the incident three days ago.”
“What incident?” Gabby squeaked, voice muffled behind the hands she’d mashed to her mouth.
Hale scratched his jaw absently. “Bruce Paxton was found dead. He’d fallen out of his office window.”
Gabby made a choking sound. Her hands dropped from her face and flattened against her stomach. All the color in her cheeks were gone, making her eyes enormous against the stark contrast.
“Did you know Mr. Paxton?” Hale prompted.
The jerk of her head spilled the tears clinging to her lashes. “He was David’s lawyer.”
Hale nodded in confirmation. “We have video surveillance showing Mr. Thornton leaving Paxton’s office right after the accident. We think the two incidents may be connected with what happened to your bodyguard and ultimately, you.”
I didn’t see the connection other than that David was a psychopath with serial rapist and killer tendencies. It brought to mind all the girls he’d hurt in the past and if any of them actually survived. For all anyone knew, he could have killed hundreds of people and used his power and money to conceal the crimes. It wouldn’t have been the first time.
“But we’re still investigating,” Hale finished, closing his pad. “The information you’ve given us will help us bring those responsible to justice.”
No sooner had he finished speaking when the walkies strapped to their shoulders crackled to life. A woman’s voice, garbled and barely intelligible hissed a series of codes words that had both men reaching for the devices.
The partner reached it first. He brought the talkie to his mouth and responded briskly.
“This is unit one-four, copy.”
The voice returned with more cryptic words and numbers that meant nothing to me, but had the two officers staring hard at each other.
“Copy,” Friske responded. “We’re with them now.”
Gabby’s head turned and I found myself caught in her fear. I took her hand, assuring her that, no matter what, I would keep her safe.
“Ms. Thornton,” Friske shifted his body forward in his seat. “Do you know an Eric Thornton?”
Gabby nodded, but said nothing.
The two officers passed another look between them.
“There’s been another incident.”
CURSED.
It was whispered in hushed hisses as stretcher after stretcher was wheeled down the steps of Thornton manor to the waiting ambulances. White sheets stained in splotches of crimson seemed to glow in the bright canopy of sunlight, leaving no mistake in anyone’s mind that there were no survivors.
Next to me, huddled just off to one side, away from the prodding eyes of neighbors, media cars, cops, and paramedics, Gabby stood rigid and pale. The skirt of her mourning dress swayed in the brisk breeze, twisting around her naked thighs. She seemed unaffected by the cold.
I hadn’t wanted her to be there. I had protested vehemently. Nevertheless, somehow, I found myself behind the wheel of my car, following Hale and Friske back to the place I’d sworn to myself I would never let Gabby return to.
The crowd had already been there, gathered just behind a wide stretch of caution tape. They kept getting jostled and moved every time one ambulance left and a new one arrived; the driveway wasn’t nearly large enough for the number of vehicles and busybodies. But no one wanted to leave. What should have been a time for privacy and respect was filled with gossip and rolling cameras. Their lack of compassion made me want to kill someone.
“We have a live one!”
The announcement sent the circus into a frenzy. Camera shutters snapped, voices rose, bodies pressed forward, stretching the yellow tape in their excitement to see which Thornton survived.
Gabby never moved. She barely blinked. Her expression was a mask of sadness and hope. The latter crumbled when David was wheeled out, an oxygen mask strapped to his face. He was rolled into the ambulance and sealed in. Unlike the others, the siren squealed to life. Lights flashed as the vehicle roared down the road.
“He lives,” she murmured so quietly, I almost didn’t hear her over all the chaos.
I started to face her, but she was already turning away, arms clasped around her stooped frame. She started back to the car, ignoring or not noticing the microphones being shoved at her as hard as the questions being hurled. They were held back by several uniformed officers, allowing Gabby to pass unharmed.
I waited a full second longer to watch the forth stretcher being brought out, the body concealed beneath the sheets.
Marcella, maybe? Cordelia and Eric had already been taken away. David was on his way to the hospital. There hadn’t been anyone else in the house, except Marcella. But it didn’t make sense that they would take her on a stretcher. She was already in a coffin.
I made my way to where Hale stood in deep discussion with another officer. Both looked up when I approached.
“What happened?” I demanded.
Hale finished whatever the two had been talking about before fixing me with his full attention.
“From what we can tell so far, Eric Thornton arrived with the intention of killing his father and sister. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
I frowned at the implication. “Of course not. Why would I?”
“Because, Mr. Kincaid, you’re with the only surviving sister, which makes me think either Eric let her go intentionally, or she was next on his list. Did you see Eric at the funeral?”
I nodded. “It was his mother’s funeral, so yes.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“Briefly,” I admitted.
“What about?”
His notepad was out again, his pen poised on a clean page.
“His mother,” I lied. “We paid our condolences and left.”
“So, you didn’t see David or...” he consulted his notes, “Cordelia?”
I shook my head. “Not until we were leaving, and we only saw Cordelia.”
He scribbled that down.
“Not David?”
“No.”
He made a humming sound that was neither positive or negative.
“Several witnesses claim that Eric asked them to leave.” Hale looked up at me. “He told them that the family wanted to be alone with the deceased. Do you know anything about that?”
“No.”
“So, when you left, were the guests still there?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“And you didn’t question as to why the guests were gone?”
Impatience tightened my lips. “All I was thinking about was getting Gabby home. We only came because it was her mother’s funeral. We had every intention of leaving the moment she said her goodbyes. Why everyone was gone made no difference to us. We were leaving regardless.”
He made that annoying mmhmm noise.
“Am I a suspect, Detective?”
The man actually chuckled. “Believe it or not, you’re the only person in this mess who might actually be clean.”
“Gabby didn’t do anything,” I bit in. “She’s innocent.”
He peered past me to where Gabby was waiting in the car. “You might be right. Unfortunately, I still have to cross all my T’s and dot my I’s. It’s all such a damn mess.” He shook his head slightly. “If what she told me is true, all that stuff that happened to her ... I can’t even begin to comprehend it.”
I felt
myself relax a fraction.
“Are Eric and Cordelia really dead?”
He nodded. “Yup.” He sighed heavily and snapped his notepad shut. “From the layout, he cornered his father in his office and shot him while his back was turned. Then found his sister in the foyer and got her next. He called the police, told us what happened, before turning the gun on himself. There was a text message on his phone from who we’ve discovered may have been his mother accusing his father of being the cause of her suicide. We think Eric may have been wanting to avenge her death. Although, there isn’t a mention of Cordelia, but there are mentions of you and Gabrielle.”
“Jesus,” I mumbled, staring at the blank windows glowering down at us. “Who was the fourth body?”
“Oh!” His pad was flipped open and turned to the proper page. “An older man. The help, we’re assuming. He was found in the kitchen. Eric got him first. We haven’t identified him yet.”
“Jameson,” I ventured. “It had to be him. I don’t recall his first name.”
Hale scribbled that down. “And he was?”
“The butler.”
Hale rocked his head slowly from side to side, hand still darting across the pages. “Messy business,” he muttered under his breath. “We’ll hopefully get a better picture of things if David makes it.”
“He’s still alive?”
“Yup.” The notepad was tucked away inside his breast pocket. “Lost a lot of blood. They’re taking him in for surgery, but fingers crossed he makes it.”
Fuck that. I had my fingers crossed that he’d die, suffering horribly, but even that was too good for him.
“Someone will be in touch,” Hale finished.
Thoughts of David surviving followed me all the way back to the car and all through the drive home. It plagued me while I cradled Gabby that night in our bed. It gnawed at me every time I closed my eyes.
That bastard couldn’t be allowed to remain on earth. He had done nothing to deserve that life. He had no right to become a constant reminder to Gabby of the things he’d done to her, the things he could still possibly do. How could I let him continue to stain her life? She would never know peace so long as he was still breathing and I wouldn’t stand for that.
“Kieran?” Gabby’s groggy murmur pulled my attention down to the head she had nestled against my chest.
I tightened my arms around her. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
She sighed once and drifted back to sleep.
She would be safe. I swore to myself that I would see to it.
I LEFT HER BUNDLED in the sheets with a note on the end table to assure her everything was fine and that I would return soon. I had every intention of returning before she had a chance to read it, but I figured it was best to be safe rather than sorry.
At my car, I dug my keys out and climbed in, careful not to slam the door. I cast the dark windows of our home a final glance before pulling out.
The hospital, despite the late hour, glowed bright against the inky horizon. Cars entered and exited the parking area, loading and unloading patients. The speakers crackled with announcements, each one calling out a code.
I parked away from the building, away from the cameras I knew I couldn’t avoid if I were to pass over the threshold. Slipping into a hospital and killing someone was only made to look simple on television. In reality, I couldn’t simply waltz in there dressed in doctor’s coat, stuff a pillow over his head and wait for him to flatline. I couldn’t be seen anywhere near the place, whether his death was made to look intentional or accidental, I had to remain distant from it. The only question remaining was how to insure it was done properly. Eric had tried, but his failure meant a lifetime of that monster in Gabby’s life and I couldn’t have that. I wouldn’t. He and all his many shadows and toxic touches needed to be removed from our future ... permanently.
Chapter Twenty-Seven — Gabrielle
Daylight greeted me with sadistic pleasure. Blinding fingers of light speared across the room and straight into my face. The pain alone was enough to send me tumbling towards the opposite end of the mattress, groaning and rubbing my eyes.
I sat up, blinking and squinting, trying to understand why Kieran hadn’t shut the blinds like he usually did when he woke up first, especially since his side of the bed lay rumpled and empty.
“Kieran?”
I pushed the sheets back and slipped to my feet. I grabbed my robe in passing as I padded in the direction of the door.
Despite having lived there for months, I still had to pause at the bottom of the stairs and remember which side of the house the kitchen was located in. I knew it was away from the conservatory, which was on the right.
I turned left.
I knew I’d made the right choice when I spotted the open doorway. Relief had me blowing out a cheek full of air before stepping inside.
“I really should get a map...” I trailed off when I realized I was the only one in the room. I did a slow turn, just in case. “Kieran?”
Willing myself not to panic, I shuffled back towards the stairs and the general area I was sure his office was.
It too was empty.
My next stop was the front doors. I wrenched them open and peered out at the empty spot where his car was usually parked.
Maybe he’d gone to work, I thought to myself. He’d been missing a lot of days because of me and all that had been happening.
I shut the door and locked it for good measure before sprinting back upstairs to get dressed and grab my phone.
It sat on the nightstand, next to a note with Kieran’s fluid and perfect loops. I read it twice, neither time made sense. There was no mention of work, only that he would return soon, but return soon from where? Where would he go in the middle of the night and why would it take him so long to return?
Heart a wild horse galloping in my chest, I dialed his number and stuffed the phone to my ear while it rang ... and rang, and finally ended in his voicemail.
“Hey!” I said, struggling to sound like I wasn’t freaking out. “Just checking in. Hope everything’s okay. Give me a call when you get this.”
I hung up and fought against hitting call again.
He was okay, I told myself. Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he be? David was in the hospital. There was nothing he could do to hurt Kieran now. He was probably at work and unable to pick up. He’ll probably text me any minute to assure me everything was fine and he was in a meeting. I knew it.
Yet my hand trembled as I stared at the blank screen, willing it to light up.
I paced downstairs, working through all the rooms I recognized before rounding back up the stairs. I repeated the path several times with no purpose in mind, except that I couldn’t sit still. A gnawing beast had formed in the pit of my stomach, an anxious prodding that threatened to make me sick. I didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t over the scope of possibility that I may have been overreacting, turning an ant hill into a mountain, but the sensation wouldn’t quit.
Something was wrong.
I could taste it, almost touch it.
I texted him. Let him think I was clingy and insecure. I didn’t care. My nerves couldn’t take the not knowing any longer.
Me: “Please call me. Are you okay?”
Tears of frustration blurred the screen, smudging the brightness around the edges. I had to blink to clear my vision, terrified I might miss his message.
Nothing.
The time difference between the sent text and the clock at the top of the screen informed me that ten minutes had passed without a response.
I closed my eyes and prayed, begging whatever holy being was listening not to take him away from me. I couldn’t bear it. It was a loss I would never recover from. It must have worked, because no sooner had I finished when I heard the front doors open and my name ring out.
Stifling a sob, I sprinted down the stairs, taking each step with a recklessness that could have gotten me killed. I hit the bottom just as Kieran closed the doors
behind him and turned.
The weight of my ambush sent him back a full step, but he caught me mid lunge and pressed me close. I shut my eyes and breathed him in.
“I’ve been worried sick,” I breathed into his shoulder.
“I forgot my phone,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”
Of course. I hadn’t even bothered to check to see if he had his phone on him. I probably could have saved myself a lot of worrying if I had.
“I’m just glad you’re all right.” I drew back to peer up into his face. “I had a weird feeling and I guess it made me a bit crazy.”
With a small smile, he skimmed my cheek, his touch featherlight and warm despite the chill outside. “I’m fine. Have you eaten?”
At the shake of my head, he captured my hand and tugged me along after him towards the kitchen. I was nudged towards the stools around the island while he continued on to the fridge.
I watched him shuffle things around until he found what he was searching for.
“I was thinking we could look at some places today.” He kicked the fridge door shut with the heel of his foot and turned with a carton of eggs in one hand and the milk pitcher in the other. “Did you want to stay in the city or leave for another country?”
“I don’t want to go too far,” I said. “So, maybe not leave the country.”
The items were set on the counter. He dusted his hands before reaching for a mixing bowl from a nearby cupboard. It was placed in front of him.
“That definitely narrows down our options.” Eggs were cracked into the bowl and sprinkled with salt and pepper. “I can find an agent to help us, or we can grab a booklet the next time we’re out and do the search ourselves.” He whisked the eggs together while pouring milk in. “I’d like a house, personally, but I’m willing to consider a condo.”
I shook my head. “House sounds nice, something with a big yard.”
We both fell silent as he dropped butter into a skillet and added the egg mixture. We watched the liquid become solid, then scrambled into chunks and heaped into plates. Strips of bacon and toast were added to the side with tall glasses of orange juice.
Protector's Claim Page 41