The Firstborn
Page 7
“I told you, you’ll be paid for the work you’ve done, but Heartskeep belongs to me. Marcus has no right to deface my home.”
“Deface?” Bram repeated, affronted. He suspected she never noticed his quiet question because Hayley’s eyes glittered with the fervor of battle. Even his rising annoyance wasn’t enough to keep him from admiring the fire and passion in her. She was older than he’d first thought, but not old enough for him to give in to temptation and try to channel that energy in a more interesting way.
“Do you want to see the letter from my mother’s lawyer?” she demanded.
Regretfully, Bram shook his head. “That won’t nullify the contract I signed with your father.”
“What will?”
He didn’t want to fight with her. “Hayley—”
“If you want a legal injunction to stop and desist, I’ll get you one.”
She whirled around, setting off for the house at just short of a jog. Sunlight bathed her light brown hair, turning it to spun gold.
Bram swore. In the end, Hayley would win. He didn’t have the time or money to fight her on this. His father’s medical bills were growing right along with his cancer. If Heartskeep was only going to pay Bram for the work he’d already done, he’d just have to work harder and faster to earn as much as possible before the job ended.
Unless he could find a way to convince Hayley to let him finish.
HAYLEY SWIPED AT TEARS of anger and frustration. Darn that sexy, infuriating man. Why did he have to be so stubborn? This was just a job for him. Heartskeep was her family’s heritage.
The desire to sit down and bawl was as powerful as it was strange. She never cried, but he made her so mad.
What if Bram called her bluff? She had no idea if the lawyer really would back her wishes or not. In fact, she had no idea what her legal status concerning Heartskeep actually was, beyond being the ultimate heir to the house and grounds.
Another tear escaped and she wiped it away, as well. What was wrong with her? Ever since she’d arrived at Heartskeep, she’d felt emotionally out of control—totally unlike her usual self.
Was she coming down with something?
That was all she needed. She had to be strong and alert to deal with Marcus and Eden—not to mention Bram.
Darn it, she didn’t care how attractive he was. Or how protective and kind he’d been last night. She wouldn’t think about that. Her brain must have fried in the broiling sun. She wasn’t the emotional type. Yesterday may have been an unusually stressful day, but she was used to stress. Why did she feel so weepy and weary?
Thankful to find an empty kitchen, Hayley stepped inside, grateful for the air conditioning. Her mouth was so dry her tongue felt thick. She headed straight for the refrigerator and stood there until she’d gulped down the entire contents of a bottle of chilled water.
There was no sound in the house. She didn’t know where Mrs. Norwhich or Paula Kerstairs were, and she didn’t care, but she wished Mrs. Walsh was here. Hayley could have talked to her. She desperately needed someone to talk with. The complete absence of noise in the house seemed strange, but not as threatening as it had been last night.
The water quenched her thirst, but a growing lethargy was making it hard to keep her eyes open. Ridiculous. She’d just gotten up. But she hadn’t slept much last night. Maybe that was why she was feeling so emotional.
Hayley helped herself to another bottle of water and decided there was no point battling this fatigue. She’d lie down, at least for a few minutes. Then she’d find the lawyer’s name and see what needed to be done. Perhaps Marcus’s illness and Bram’s presence were the reasons the lawyer had been trying to reach her in the first place.
She practically stumbled over her own feet climbing the back stairs. She and Leigh had seldom gone upstairs this way. The steps were narrow and they led to a landing close to Marcus’s room. But Hayley didn’t have the energy to walk all the way around to the main staircase at the moment. She’d have to risk another verbal battle with Marcus. While he might look older and more frail now, his nasty disposition hadn’t altered any. Fortunately, his bedroom door was closed. If he was inside, he wasn’t making any noise.
As soon as she reached her room, Hayley sank down on the familiar blue-green comforter and closed her eyes. She reached out blindly to set the unopened bottle of water on the nightstand, and missed. It fell to the carpeting with a dull thud. Then she heard nothing at all.
IT WAS HER MOTHER’S VOICE, calling urgently to her, that lifted Hayley from the comfortable well of sleep. Couldn’t her mother see she was still tired? She didn’t want to open her eyes.
But the voice softly nagged until Hayley opened one eye. Her bleary gaze was drawn to the end of the bed. Her muzzy brain told her the distorted figure she saw there was a reflection in the glass-framed poster hanging on the wall. The figure was bending above her overnight case, which sat on the floor beside her bed.
What was her mother looking for?
Hayley wanted to turn her head and ask, but she was too tired. Her eyes closed again and all she managed was a croak of complaint. A cloth fell across her face, covering her nose and eyes.
Hayley came awake at once, batting at the material. She yanked the fabric aside as she rolled off the far edge of the bed, trying to understand what was happening.
The room swam dizzily as a wave of nausea rolled through her. She heard, rather than saw, her bedroom door snap shut.
Someone had been in her room!
Hayley swayed. The room steadied and she saw the contents of her overnight case spread out on the floor. The oversize T-shirt she liked to sleep in lay crumpled on the bed. Someone had tossed it over her face when she’d started to wake up. The person had been right here in the room with her, rifling through her case. And that person hadn’t been her mother. If Hayley hadn’t dreamed that her mother was calling her…
Staggering around the bed, she lurched to the door. The hallway stretched empty in both directions. Of course it was empty. She’d given the person plenty of time to disappear while she stood there in a fog.
Who had it been? What had he or she been looking for?
Fear overwhelmed her grogginess. Either she hadn’t been imagining things last night and someone hiding inside the house had been going through her bag, or someone who belonged in the house had done so. If the person was looking for valuables, he or she was out of luck. Hayley had brought only clothing and makeup with her.
Gripping the door frame, Hayley tried to think. Marcus would have a fit if she called the police, yet she couldn’t ignore what had just happened. Still, the last time they’d spoken, Chief Crossley had told her flat out to stop calling his office. Even if the dispatcher did send someone out to investigate, she knew firsthand how hard the police would search for a possible intruder. There couldn’t be a man on the small force who didn’t know how much the police chief disliked her.
Hayley tried to bring the fuzzy image she’d glimpsed into focus, but it was futile. She didn’t know if she’d seen a man or a woman. The sobering thought only added another layer of fear. Why would anyone go through her belongings with her sleeping right there? It made no sense.
She glanced back in the room at her scattered clothing, and drew in a sharp breath as her gaze landed on the bedside clock. It couldn’t possibly be almost four o’clock in the afternoon. If that was right, she’d slept away most of the day! No wonder she felt so loggy.
Staring at the oversize T-shirt on the rumpled bedspread, she felt violated and terribly afraid. She needed to tell someone what had just happened, but she couldn’t bring herself to dial 911. She’d be better off calling the lawyer. His letter was the reason she was here in the first place.
What was his name? She couldn’t remember. There was a dull ache in the back of her head. She rarely got headaches, but it appeared she was working on one now. She couldn’t seem to think. The lawyer’s letter was in her purse.
Only where was her purse?
/> Hayley raked the room with her gaze. The familiar denim bag was nowhere in sight. The thief had stolen something, after all. Her purse was gone!
Hayley rushed down the hall. The eerie silence still embraced the house. Where was everyone?
As she neared the main staircase, she heard muted voices. Her relief was short-lived as she realized one of those voices was shrill with anger. Eden. Hayley paused, peering over the banister. She could just make out the top of Eden’s dyed-blond head. The woman was standing near the front door, angrily berating someone. Then she heard the rumble of a low, masculine voice. Bram!
“Either go down or let me pass.”
Hayley whirled in surprise at the sound of Paula Kerstairs’s nasal voice. The movement sent Hayley reaching for the newel post to keep from falling. She hadn’t heard the maid come up behind her. The woman’s beady eyes regarded her with something close to loathing.
“Where did you come from?” Hayley managed to croak.
The wraithlike woman jerked her head in the direction of the bedroom near the top of the stairs. The room had belonged to Hayley’s mother when Hayley was a girl. The door stood open.
“Cleaning,” Paula said tersely. “It’s my job.”
Maybe fear was replacing Hayley’s common sense, but the maid seemed to hate her.
“Were you just in my room?” Hayley demanded.
“No.”
The woman’s sour expression seemed an open sneer. Hayley straightened in reaction.
“If you made a mess,” Paula said, “it’ll have to wait. I’m done for today.”
Paula Kerstairs was almost a caricature of a cleaning woman with her pail and baggy clothing. A caricature with a number of places to hide small objects. Including a small denim purse?
She made to push past Hayley, who gathered her courage and blocked the way. “Let me have a look in your pail.” Paula thrust it toward her and Hayley peered into the pail. The blue plastic bucket contained nothing more than rags and sprays.
“Think I’m stealing the family silver?”
Hayley ignored the question. She refused to be intimidated by this disagreeable person. “Have you seen anyone else up here?” she asked.
“Just you.”
With shocking strength, Paula pushed her aside, nearly sending her sprawling. Paula’s baggy clothing flapped about her sticklike figure as she glided down the stairs on silent feet. Hayley started to yell to Bram to stop the maid, then realized he and Eden had disappeared. Had they witnessed any part of what had happened?
She couldn’t imagine Bram walking away if he’d noticed her. As she descended the stairs behind Paula, a trace movement pulled her gaze to the library. Someone whisked out of sight behind the double doors. Hayley was certain she’d glimpsed Mrs. Norwhich. What was the housekeeper doing slinking about like that?
Hayley’s heart was racing so fast she couldn’t seem to think. Gripping the banister, she tried to take a similar grip on her imagination. It was starting to run wild with theories that bordered on paranoia.
Taking a deep breath, she told herself to calm down. She would get in her car right now and drive into town to talk to the lawyer. What was his name? Why couldn’t she remember his name?
It didn’t matter. There couldn’t be that many lawyers in Stony Ridge. She’d find him.
Except that her car keys were in her purse.
“Hey there, Hayley.”
Jacob strode down the hall from the kitchen, munching on an apple. His casual, relaxed greeting sent a burst of relief through her. She’d forgotten about Jacob. His mother might be cold and unfriendly, but everyone liked Jacob.
“Did you get some rest?” he asked.
“No. Yes.” She shook her head in confusion.
“Is something wrong?”
She crossed the hall toward him. “Someone entered my room while I was sleeping,” she blurted out. “My purse is missing.”
Jacob stopped chewing. “It is? I just saw your purse in the library a few minutes ago. It’s on the floor beside the couch. You left it there last night.”
Hayley rushed past him into the library. Her denim bag was sitting right where he’d said, in plain sight. But she’d taken it upstairs with her this morning.
Hadn’t she?
She couldn’t remember.
Her hands shook as she reached for the purse.
“Hey. Are you okay, Hayley?”
“No! I told you, someone was in my room.” She tried to still the escalating panic inside her. “They were going through my overnight case.”
“Who was?”
She opened the purse. “I’m…not sure. I only saw a reflection in the glass of the poster at the end of my bed. The person threw a T-shirt over my face before I could turn to look.”
His forehead creased in a frown. “A T-shirt? Hayley, are you sure you weren’t dreaming? I mean, you were pretty freaked out last night, not that I blame you or anything, but—”
Keys, wallet, driver’s license, credit cards, everything seemed to be inside except…
“It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?”
Stricken, she glared at Jacob. “The lawyer’s letter!”
He shook his head. “Someone took your letter? What would anyone want with a letter?” he asked reasonably. “Is your money there? Your credit cards?”
“Yes! Just the letter is missing.”
“Hey, take it easy. Are you sure this letter was in your purse?”
“Of course I’m sure!”
Wasn’t she?
“Chill, Hayley. A minute ago, you thought your purse was missing, too. Maybe the letter fell out or something.” Jacob dropped to the floor and began searching beneath the couch. “Nope. Not here—unless it transformed into a dust bunny.” He stood with a small smile, brushing lint from his pants. His smile slipped as he looked at her. “Maybe it fell out in your car.”
“Where’s Mrs. Norwhich? She was in here a minute ago. I saw her! She must have taken it.”
Jacob regarded her earnestly. “Hayley, I don’t know what’s going on, but Mrs. Norwhich is in the kitchen. I was talking to her.”
“I know what I saw!”
“Would you listen to yourself? You sound hysterical.”
He was right. Hayley fought against the mind-numbing fear, clutching the purse to her chest. She was positive she’d seen Mrs. Norwhich in here a second ago, but that didn’t mean the woman had taken her letter. If the purse had been sitting here all day, anyone could have taken the letter. She could hardly go storming into the kitchen and accuse the woman.
Like she’d practically done to Paula Kerstairs.
“I didn’t dream the T-shirt that was tossed over my face,” she told Jacob more calmly. “Someone scattered my stuff all over the floor of my room.”
Jacob scratched behind his ear, obviously at a loss.
“Paula Kerstairs was upstairs,” Hayley told him.
“Now, that’s one creepy woman. I wouldn’t put anything past her. You think she was in your room? Is anything missing? Jewelry? Money?”
“I…don’t know.”
“Let’s go have a look. If something’s missing, we’ll call the cops.”
Rattled and uncertain, Hayley followed Jacob up the stairs, clutching her purse.
“How’s your job going?” he asked.
“Jacob, I am not stressed out due to my job,” she told him sharply.
He spread his hands in a conciliatory way, nearly dropping his apple. “Hey, I didn’t mean to imply that. I was just making conversation. You know, trying to lighten things up a little? You look coiled tighter than a spring about to sprong, know what I mean?”
She knew. It wasn’t a bad comparison. Her skin no longer felt like it fit. Pausing at the top of the stairs, she stared at the room Paula had claimed to be cleaning. “Hold up a minute, Jacob.”
He trailed after her as she entered what was now a guest bedroom. Dark cherry furniture gleamed—dust free. There was no scen
t of cleaning solutions, but the room was neat and tidy. So was the connecting bathroom.
“Paula said she was cleaning in here,” Hayley said.
“Looks like she did. Want me to check for dust over the doorsill?”
Embarrassed, Hayley looked away. “I don’t understand what’s happening around here.”
Jacob shook his head helplessly and followed as she hurried down the hall to her bedroom.
“Jacob, the door’s closed!”
He frowned. “Is that bad?”
“I left it open. I’m certain I did. Someone’s in there.”
Jacob moved past her and opened the door before she could stop him. Hayley followed him inside and jerked to a stop. Her overnight case still sat on the floor beside the bed, but it was closed. Not a thing in the room was out of place. A depression in the pillow and a rumpled bedspread were the only signs she had even used the room.
“Someone’s been in here again! They put everything back!” Acid churned in her stomach. “I don’t understand,” she whispered.
Jacob stared at the perfectly neat room. “Hayley, are you sure you weren’t dreaming?”
“Of course I’m sure!”
Could she have dreamed the whole thing? Her head was starting to pound so hard it was difficult to think.
“Look, don’t get mad at me, but I’ve gotta ask. Are you taking something? Maybe you got some bad stuff. How long ago—”
“I’ve never used drugs in my life,” she said fiercely when she realized what he meant. Pushing past him, she hurried down the hall.
“Hayley, stop. Where are you going?”
“To check my car,” she yelled without looking back. She felt sick to her stomach and light-headed.
Jacob thought she was using drugs. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. Her brain felt numb enough to be in a drug-induced haze. But she wasn’t taking drugs, and she hadn’t been dreaming, either—except that part about her mother.
Okay, that part had been strange, but understandable. And anyhow, she’d come fully awake the minute that T-shirt had covered her face.
As she raced down the front stairs and out the door, she heard Jacob calling after her. She ignored him and the late afternoon heat and ran to the back of the house. Her car sat exactly where she’d left it.