Bradlee couldn’t have been more stunned. Or confused. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I thought it for the best. It seemed to me that boy was stringing you along while he had another one dancing on the line. I thought if I got his girl down here, she might straighten things out with him.”
Bradlee shook her head. “How did you even know about her?”
His gaze lifted to meet Bradlee’s. “You think Iris Kingsley is the only one who can hire a private investigator?”
“You had David investigated?” Bradlee’s shock was fast turning into anger. “You had no right. None of this is any of your business.”
“You’re my business. I don’t want to see you hurt, darlin’.”
“Oh, don’t `darlin’ me!” Bradlee retorted. “You’ve never taken any interest in my affairs before.” Bad choice of words, she thought with a grimace, but nevertheless, she’d made her point.
He leaned toward her, folding his arms on the table. “I know you’re going to find this hard to believe, but I care about you, Bradlee. I want you to be happy. You’ve spent your entire life pining for that boy, and I thought if you could see for yourself that he hasn’t exactly been waiting around for you, you’d wake up and face reality.”
“So you called Rachel. I suppose she was only too happy to oblige.”
Her father’s face clouded. “I may have gotten more than I bargained for with that one.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rachel Hollingsworth is not a woman I’d want on my bad side. I have to say, darlin’, I think you’re making a smart move getting the hell out of Dodge.”
* * *
WHEN BRADLEE ARRIVED back at the Kingsley estate, she still had several hours before her flight. The wine she’d had with her father—or perhaps the conversation—had left a sour feeling in her stomach, and the prospect of a long plane ride that evening was a bit daunting.
She met Illiana in the foyer. “The house seems so quiet. Where is everyone?”
“Miss Pamela and Mr. Jeremy are out, Mr. Edward is in the library, and Mrs. Kingsley is upstairs resting.”
“What about Mr. Powers?”
“I saw him out in the gardens earlier.”
Bradlee nodded.
“Most of the staff are off this afternoon,” Illiana said. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m not feeling very well,” Bradlee told her. “I think I’ll go upstairs and rest.”
“Very well. I’m taking off, then.”
“Have a nice afternoon.”
In her bedroom, Bradlee closed and locked the door. Her lack of sleep the previous night was starting to take its toll. She decided to lie down for a few minutes and take a brief nap. At least that way she wouldn’t have to think about David, she thought drowsily.
But she dreamed about their lovemaking, and when she woke up, the hurt she’d been trying to keep at bay all day descended over her. She suddenly felt more depressed than she ever had before because she knew once she got on that plane, the chances were good she would never see David again.
Getting up, Bradlee started across the room to wash her face in the bathroom, but stopped when she saw that someone had shoved a note under her door. She picked it up and read:
Bradlee:
Illiana told me you weren’t feeling well so I didn’t want to disturb you in case you were sleeping. I think I’ve remembered something. I’m going back to the nursery to see if it’ll help jog my memory. If you wake up in time and see this note, please come find me. I need your help. I think this could be it.
It was signed “David.” Not “Love, David,” of course.
Still, he did say he needed her. Bradlee warned herself not to read more into those words than he actually meant, but excitement shot through her anyway. David needed her, but what’s more, he’d remembered something. “I think this could be it.”
Bradlee went into the bathroom and hurriedly washed her face and combed her hair. Slipping into her shoes, she let herself out of her room and headed toward the nursery.
By the time she got to that part of the house, her excitement had begun to fade. An uneasiness crept over her. What if David hadn’t written that note? What if this was some sort of trap?
But who would be foolish enough to try something in broad daylight? The only people in the house besides her and David were Edward, who was probably in a drunken stupor by now, and Iris, whose strength seemed to be fading fast these days.
Still, Bradlee wasn’t about to make the same mistake she’d made the night of the party. She wouldn’t enter the nursery until she knew for sure David was in there.
Pausing in the hallway, Bradlee was just about to call out to him when a shadow appeared in the doorway. A scream of terror rose in Bradlee’s throat.
* * *
DAVID HAD GOTTEN CAUGHT in a traffic jam due to road construction and hadn’t even made it out of the city when his cell phone rang again.
“Hello?”
“Powers? This is Sergeant Packer.”
“I’m glad you got my message,” David said.
Packer hesitated. “Message? What message? I just got back in. Oh, wait a minute. Here it is.”
David frowned. “That’s not the reason you’re calling?”
“No, I guess that’s just what they call a happy coincidence. Actually, I thought you might want to know we turned up a match on some of the fresh prints we found in the nursery.”
David felt a surge of adrenaline. He thought he knew exactly whose prints Packer had found. Jeremy Willows’s. “Don’t keep me in suspense, Sergeant.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
Something in his tone made David’s heart thud against his chest.
“The prints belonged to Edward Kingsley. Can you believe that? His were still on file from when he was governor. It was a perfect match.”
“Oh, my God,” David said. Except for Iris, Bradlee was home alone with Edward. “Meet me at the Kingsley estate. Get over there as fast as you can.”
* * *
BRADLEE STARED AT IRIS Kingsley in the nursery doorway. Her face was as white as Bradlee’s felt. Iris put a hand to her heart, looking as if she was about to collapse.
Bradlee hurried over to her. “Are you all right?”
“My dear, you frightened me half to death. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come up here.”
“Isn’t David here?”
“No, why?”
Bradlee’s own heartbeat was almost back to normal, but she could see that Iris was still trembling. “I’m really sorry I frightened you, but David—or someone—left me a note asking me to meet him up here.”
Iris’s dark blue gaze met Bradlee’s. Something that looked very much like fear flashed across her face. “That’s very strange. David left the house some time ago. I saw him drive away myself.”
Bradlee’s voice sharpened. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course. His car is very distinctive.”
Iris turned and walked back into the nursery. “Why do you suppose someone would send you a note pretending to be David?”
Bradlee lingered in the doorway. “To lure me up here, I’m afraid.”
Iris turned. “But there’s no one up here but me, and I’ve been here for some time. Perhaps I spoiled someone’s plans.”
“Let’s hope so,” Bradlee said. She glanced around the room. The blinds had been raised, and sunlight flooded into the room. It didn’t look at all menacing today, but still, she wasn’t about to get careless. “Perhaps we should go. It might not be safe up here.”
For the first time, Bradlee saw a tea service had been placed on a table near the French doors. Iris sat down behind the table and lifted her teacup. “I’m not going anywhere until I finish my tea,” she said calmly. She met Bradlee’s gaze again and smiled. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m a senile old woman, but there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this.”
“There is?” Bradlee wasn
’t sure which “all this” Iris was referring to. The note? Or Iris having tea in an abandoned nursery?
“Every so often I come here and have tea with my grandsons. Oh, I know Andrew is dead, and Adam was missing and presumed dead for years, but this has always kept me close to both of them. Here in this room, my memories have always kept them alive for me, so I come here and sip my tea and let myself remember the happy days. I adored those boys. More than anything.”
In the sunlight, a tear shimmered on Iris’s cheek. “You must think me perfectly insane,” she whispered.
Bradlee walked over to her. “Not at all. I can see how this room would keep drawing you back. It does me, too.” She looked around, her gaze resting on the lone little bed. Adam’s bed. Iris had kept this room just as it was, waiting for his return.
There was another cup on the tray, and Iris poured Bradlee some tea. “If anyone understands how I feel, it’s you, my dear. You were always so close to Adam. You were as devastated as I was when he disappeared.”
She handed the cup to Bradlee and stood. Walking over to the French doors, she opened them and stepped out onto the balcony.
Bradlee said quickly, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to be out there. The railing hasn’t been mended yet.”
“I won’t get close to the edge,” Iris promised. She turned to stare at Bradlee in the doorway. “I used to sit out here for hours at a time with Adam and Andrew. I would read to them while they played at my feet. Those were the happiest days of my life. Then their mother got sick, and everything started to go wrong. Especially for Edward.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “My son is…not well, I’m afraid. He hasn’t been for years.”
As she spoke, Iris seemed to grow physically weaker and she put a hand on the railing to steady herself. Alarmed, Bradlee stepped out onto the balcony and grabbed Iris’s arm. “The railing is still broken. Don’t lean against it. You need to come back inside.”
Iris took a step away from the railing. “I’m all right,” she said. “Please. Just let me finish my tea out here and then I promise I’ll come back inside.”
“All right,” Bradlee agreed reluctantly. “But stay away from the edge.”
Iris lifted her cup to her lips and sipped delicately. “It’s Earl Grey. I brewed it myself—one of the few things I can still do. Do you like it?”
Bradlee took a tentative sip. “It’s very good.”
Iris sighed. “You’re humoring me, of course. So many people do that with me these days. The price of getting old and dying slowly, I’m afraid.”
“No, I mean it,” Bradlee said. “It’s really good.” She took another sip, and Iris smiled.
“I’ve always liked you, Bradlee. If the circumstances were different, I wouldn’t have minded seeing you and Adam together.”
Circumstances? What was she talking about? Bradlee wondered. And why was she staring at her so curiously. “Is something wrong?”
Iris cocked her head slightly. “I was just about to ask you the same thing. Are you feeling all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine—” It hit her all at once. A great wave of dizziness rolled over Bradlee, and she gasped, stumbling backward. The teacup and saucer fell from her hands and shattered. Iris was hardly more than a blur to Bradlee.
She put out her hands beseechingly. “Help me—”
“I can’t do that, Bradlee. I’m sorry, but if you’d stayed away, I wouldn’t have to do this. But it’s only a matter of time before you remember who you saw in the nursery that night, and I can’t let that happen. I have a destiny to fulfill, you know. A place in history that I can’t allow you to take away from me.”
As she looked at Iris’s face, hovering slightly above her, something suddenly became clear. Iris bending over Adam’s crib… Iris putting a cloth over his face. He can’t breathe! she’d wanted to scream at Iris, but she’d been too frightened. She had watched as Iris moved across the room to the French doors, opened them, and waved to someone waiting in the shadows below. Then Iris had come back into the room. Slowly she’d crossed the room to Bradlee’s bed. Bradlee had squeezed her eyes closed, but it was too late. Iris had seen that she was awake, and before Bradlee could utter a sound, Iris had shoved a pillow over her face and held it fast.
Can’t breathe!
“You tried…to kill me,” Bradlee gasped. “Smother…me.”
“I’d knew you’d seen me,” Iris said. “I had to frighten you enough to make sure you wouldn’t talk. Or if you did, that your story would sound so fantastic, no one would believe you. And it worked. You were so traumatized you didn’t utter a word for days. Then when you did speak, you rambled on about shadows. When your mother decided to take you to see a psychiatrist, I made sure to give her Dr. Scott’s name. She owed me a favor, you see. She was one of the many underprivileged kids I’d sponsored through college—in her case, medical school. She wouldn’t have dared refuse me.”
“Why?” Bradlee whispered. Her head spun out of control. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could remain on her feet. She had to get away from the railing. If she fell against it—
Iris moved between her and the French doors, blocking Bradlee’s only means of escape. “Edward was losing,” Iris said. “And Kingsleys never lose. Our family has always been a force in politics. I didn’t want that to end. Not because of some stupid weakness Edward had for that woman.”
Bradlee stumbled against the railing, felt it move beneath her weight.
“So I made a deal with Raymond Colter. He would kidnap Adam and then after the ransom money was paid, he would return my grandson unharmed. But it didn’t work out that way. Adam wasn’t returned to me, and I’ve had to live with that all these years. I couldn’t even search for him, couldn’t mount any kind of investigation, because Colter set it up to look like Adam was dead. And once that happened, my hands were tied. I could do nothing without giving myself away.”
Bradlee could feel her knees buckling. “Please…help…me….” Iris reached out a hand toward her…and gave her a shove.
For an eternity, Bradlee wavered at the edge of the balcony, trying to regain her balance, but it was no use. She crashed backward into the railing, and for a split second, the remaining wood held. Then the railing splintered with a loud crack, and Bradlee fell through the opening.
* * *
DAVID CAME AROUND the corner of the house in time to see Bradlee hanging from the edge of the balcony. Her feet dangled precariously in midair, and for a split second, his heart completely stopped. He didn’t waste time trying the rear entrance. The front door had been locked and bolted, as had the French doors to the library and study.
He used the trellis, the same way his kidnapper had gained entrance to the house thirty-two years ago and the same way Bradlee had escaped two nights ago. Thorns tore at his arms and hands, but David never felt the pain. His entire focus was on Bradlee, on reaching her before she fell.
When he was within five or six feet of her, he said her name softly, so as not to alarm her. “Hold on,” he said. “I’m coming.”
She didn’t say anything, and David was glad she was conserving her energy. Her hold on the edge of the balcony was precarious at best. Within seconds, David had reached the balcony and climbed over the broken railing. He knelt and grabbed Bradlee’s arms.
“Let go,” he said. “I’ll pull you up.”
He wasn’t even sure she heard him. With a tiny cry of terror, her fingers slid loose and for a moment, he thought she was going to slip from his grasp. He tightened his grip, and heaved her upward, until she was sprawled on the balcony beside him.
“It’s okay. You’re safe.” He held her to him, not wanting to let her go. Not wanting to think how close he’d come to losing her.
“Iris—” she whispered.
“What about her?”
She looked dazed, but her eyes seemed to focus on something behind him. David turned and saw that his grandmother was standing just inside the nursery, holding a gun on them.
David’s heart slammed against his chest. It was all clear now. Iris had tried to kill Bradlee, and she’d paid Raymond Colter to kidnap him all those years ago.
The secret was finally out.
“I know what you must be thinking,” she said sadly. “Why you, and not Andrew? I’m sorry you had to be the one. I loved you, Adam, more than you could ever know. But Andrew…Andrew was my heart. I couldn’t let him go.”
“I understand,” David said softly. “Just put the gun down and let’s talk about this.”
Her hand was trembling, but David knew she still had enough strength to pull the trigger. And the gun was now aimed at Bradlee.
Iris’s eyes grew steely with resolve. “Move away from her, Adam. Please. With her out of the way, no one will ever know. Now that you’re home, we can be a real family again. I can give you everything. Power beyond your wildest dreams. Just move away from her, Adam. Please.”
“You’ll have to kill me first,” David said.
“And me,” said another voice from inside the nursery.
Iris spun away from the French doors, but she didn’t lower the gun. Edward moved into the room so that she could see him.
“Mother, you did this?” he said in a hoarse whisper. “You took my son from me? You took my life from me? How could you?”
“I did it for you,” Iris said. “Your obsession with that woman nearly ruined everything. If it wasn’t for me, you never would have been elected governor.”
“I wanted to pull out of the race when Adam was kidnapped,” he said numbly. “But you talked me out of it. You said some good should come from such a terrible tragedy, and then when the body was recovered, when we thought Adam was dead, you said if I quit, my son would have died in vain. So I ran and I won, but I couldn’t live with myself. I couldn’t forgive myself for profiting from my own son’s death. All those years you let me think him dead. You watched me destroy myself out of grief and guilt, when all along it was you.”
Kingsley Baby Trilogy: The Hero's SonThe Brother's WifeThe Long-Lost Heir Page 57