“I love the windows,” Caroline said as she came into the room. “I may keep them like that when this is over.”
“It is pretty.” Kirsty smiled at her friend.
They’d draped the vast bay windows with purple chiffon, making a perfect backdrop for the lectern, which was decorated with yet more white roses and irises. The room was exactly as Kirsty had imagined it would be—elegant, simple and beautiful.
“I had another word with the caterer today,” Caroline said. “Just to make sure everything will go smoothly.”
Kirsty made a mental note to give the caterer a hefty bonus for dealing with Caroline.
“And will it?” She knew the answer before she asked—Caroline wouldn’t tolerate anything short of perfection. It made Kirsty smile.
“I told her we wanted to set up tables in the conservatory for the meal. They’ll do that first thing in the morning.”
The conservatory was a new addition to the castle, and Caroline was eager to see how it worked for entertaining. The new room sat off the dining room and looked out over the garden. The floor-to-ceiling windows meant the view would be stunning—especially with the snow.
“I made Josh plan some music in case the band can’t get here. He says he’s happy to sing if he’s needed. It’s all going to be great.”
Kirsty hadn’t even thought about the possibility of the band she’d booked being snowed in. She knew she should be grateful that Josh was willing to sing at her wedding—the guy usually sang to crowds in Wembley or Madison Square Garden—yet she couldn’t work up the enthusiasm.
She looked around the elegant room and wondered if Lake would even notice the surroundings. He’d been absent for most of the planning. She really couldn’t imagine that he’d care what the place looked like. A low throb started in her stomach as she wondered again if she was forcing them to make a huge mistake.
“Don’t worry.” Caroline read her mind. “You’re just getting cold feet. It happens to all of us.”
“You’re probably right.” Although Kirsty knew it was something else. She didn’t have second thoughts about marrying Lake; instead she was terrified he had them over marrying her. “We’d better get back in case Jena is wrecking the place.”
Caroline rubbed her hand across Kirsty’s back. “It will all look better in the morning. You and Lake need to have a chat, that’s all. Once you clear the air, you’ll feel much better.”
They walked, arm in arm, back into the dining room, where the women of Knit Or Die were showing off their twerking skills—something they’d learned for Caroline’s wedding—and Jena was giving them tips to smooth out their technique.
“I really don’t need to see my mother shake her booty,” Kirsty said.
“I need to bleach my eyes after this,” Megan shouted past the loud music.
“I’ll give you—” Kirsty’s words were cut off when the lights went out.
The music stopped dead and there was a loud shout of protest. The women wanted to dance.
“Power cut,” Joe said as he came into the room. It was easy to make out his huge frame in the glow from the fire. “Nothing to worry about. Do you have a generator, Caroline?”
“No, we don’t. I should have thought of that.”
Kirsty knew Caroline was mentally adding “buy a generator” to the list she kept going in her head.
“At least the heating isn’t electrical.” Heather pointed to the raging fire and the gas central heating. Not exactly fixtures that were accurate for the castle’s time period, but as Caroline had pointed out to Kirsty, restoration only went so far when you had to live in a place.
“Is the whole town out, or only us, do you think?” Caroline said.
“Whole town, I’d say,” Kirsty said.
“Don’t worry.” Abby came up beside Caroline and put an arm around her. “Our place has a generator. We needed it when we were mushroom farming. The kids will still be able to watch the Disney Channel until their eyes turn square.”
Caroline was visibly relieved. “Jessica’s scared of the dark.”
“Of course she is, honey, she’s only twenty months old. But honestly, they’re okay. Mum and Lawrence are there, there’s central heating, a generator, plenty of food and candles in case all else fails. The kids are in a better position than we are.”
“You’re right. I just worry.”
“Motherhood is fun like that,” Abby said, rubbing her huge belly.
“It never stops,” Kirsty’s mum said as she wrapped an arm around her daughter’s waist. “You always worry. Even when your kids are too old to listen to you.”
“I listen to you,” Kirsty protested, and her mother laughed.
“I found candles.” Magenta had been rooting around in one of the kitchen cupboards. She stood up, her arms full. “You have a whole cupboard full of candles. Does a person need that many?”
Caroline stuck her nose in the air—a classic defensive move. “Josh thinks they’re romantic.”
There was a chorus of “aww”s, which made Caroline duck her head.
“Well, we have candles, a warm fire and champagne,” Shona declared. “This is the most romantic hen night I’ve ever been to. Good job we’re comfy. If this weather keeps up, we might be here for a wee while.”
As one, the women’s attention was drawn to the huge bay windows, where the snow could be seen falling thick and fast. Silence fell as they watched a beam from a flashlight scan the ground outside.
“Joe?” Kirsty said. “Is Ryan outside?”
“Nope, gorgeous, I’m here.” Ryan walked into the room holding a box of matches.
“Then”—Kirsty pointed to the window where there were now beams from two flashlights—“who’s that?”
Ryan dropped the matches and reached for his gun.
4
* Rainne and Alastair *
“You didn’t need to take me to the castle,” Rainne said into the silence.
The ten-minute drive had taken almost half an hour through the snow. They could barely see two feet in front of them, the flakes were coming down that thickly.
“You planned to what? Walk?” Alastair pointed through the windscreen.
“Jodie’s brother could have taken me.”
“No. He couldn’t.”
Rainne watched in bewildered fascination as Alastair clenched his jaw tight. Was he mad at her for inconveniencing Deke? Getting a lift to the castle wasn’t her idea. She’d only asked for help to get her car started. She should never have gone back to the old church. She should have just walked to the castle. If she’d been lucky, she’d have made it there by midnight without dying of hypothermia.
“He could have helped me fix my car, then I could have driven myself.” Why she was carrying on this ludicrous argument, she didn’t know. No. That wasn’t true. She did know—she wanted Alastair to talk to her instead of freezing her out with his silence.
Alastair snorted. “Your car didn’t even have snow tyres. There’s no way you’d have made it through this. They cleared these roads this afternoon, and look at it now. This truck is barely managing.”
Okay, so he had a point. His pickup truck came with four-wheel drive and snow chains. Her economy car came with fuzzy dice.
They turned into the castle’s driveway only to find the normally closed metal gates wide open. A prickle of unease climbed up Rainne’s spine. The guardhouse beside the gate was dark and no one came out to check their right to be there. She scanned the area ahead of her—no light was coming from the castle. She twisted in her seat to look behind at the rest of the town. No lights anywhere.
“I think there’s a power cut. But why is the gate open?” Rainne said. “Josh never leaves it open. There’s always paparazzi hanging out here trying to get in.”
“Look around. See any cameras? How about people? Anybody with any sense is tucked up indoors. Josh probably left the gates open to make it easier for the partygoers to get in.”
“Maybe.” Rainne studied
the snow-covered driveway in front of her. There were a lot of footprints. “Those prints are recent. If they weren’t, the snow would have hidden them by now. Why are there so many people walking around out here? And where’s the guy who mans the gate?”
Alastair’s glance made it clear he questioned her sanity. “You notice footprints now?”
Rainne tucked her hair behind her ear. “When Lake talks, I listen. He doesn’t talk often and I don’t want to miss anything. Plus, he knows a lot of useful stuff from his time with the SAS.”
“Useful stuff like when to worry about footprints in the snow?”
“And to be suspicious when a guardhouse shows no sign of life.”
“The guard is probably at the castle. They can monitor things from there. Josh has a state-of-the-art security system.”
“One that works in a power cut?”
Alastair was silent. The darkness felt oppressive. Maybe Rainne’s imagination was working overtime, maybe it was residual anxiety from earlier in the evening—whatever it was, she had a bad feeling.
“This doesn’t feel right,” she said. In fact, if she still believed in having a sixth sense, she would say hers was screaming at her.
“You’re just freaking out because the power has gone out. That tends to make people jumpy.”
“No, there’s definitely something wro—”
Her words cut off mid-sentence as a man appeared in their headlights. He was dressed top to toe in white snow gear, including a balaclava covering his face.
“What the hell?” Alastair shouted. When the man didn’t move out of their way, he hit the brakes, making them skid.
As if in slow motion, the man raised his arm towards them. There was a gun in his hand.
“Gun!” Rainne screamed.
Alastair cursed. He thrust the gears into reverse. Tyres slid on the snow, kicking up clouds.
“Nonononononono...” Rainne grabbed the handle above the door and held on tight.
The man pointed the gun straight at them and fired. The truck jolted backwards, speeding out of the gate, sliding over the road. Alastair fought for control as they spun away from the castle. They were going too fast. Even with chains on their tyres, the truck lost its purchase and tilted on the uneven surface.
“No, damn it!” Alastair shouted.
He strained, muscles bulging as he fought to keep the truck on the road. The gears ground. The brakes squealed. The truck lurched, its weight pulling to the side. They hit the snowy verge at the side of the road. Time froze as Rainne waited in horror for the inevitable. The truck tilted.
And then it rolled.
Rainne thought she might be screaming.
There was a deafening crunch. They slid for some distance on the driver’s side. Glass shattered. Metal ripped. There was a horrendous thud. And then there was silence.
Stark. Absolute. Silence.
Rainne’s seatbelt cut into her chest. She could barely breathe. Without thinking, she un-clicked it and fell downwards into Alastair. He hung limply from his seatbelt, his head resting on the icy ground beneath the shattered window.
There was blood on his face.
Glass in his hair.
“Alastair.” Rainne’s hand trembled as she reached for his cheek. “Alastair. Talk to me.”
He didn’t move. He didn’t speak.
“Alastair?” Rainne placed her hand on his chest. Was he breathing? She couldn’t tell. “Please.” She begged him to wake up. To be fine.
“Alastair.” Terrified, she reached for his throat to feel for his pulse.
And her world stopped dead.
5
* Joe *
“Was that gunfire?” one of the women said into the silence.
“Yeah. It was.” Joe jerked into action, barking out orders. “Secure all windows and doors. Shut all curtains. Now!”
The women scurried, doing as they were told.
“Not you.” Joe nabbed Caroline as she passed him. “Do you have a panic room?”
“No.” Her voice trembled slightly as her hand flattened over her baby bump. “Should I?”
Joe had no doubt in his mind that after this night was over, Caroline would have a panic room installed. In the meantime, they would have to make do. “Where’s the safest place in the castle?”
“I would normally say the basement, but it’s full of furniture right now. We’re storing everything in there until after the wedding. There’s no space for people.”
“What about the tower?” Kirsty came up beside her friend, looking completely, and suddenly, sober.
Adrenalin could do that to a person—or fear.
“The cellar sounds more secure,” Joe said. “Can we move the stuff out? Or to the side, or something, anything to make space?”
“No. It’s packed. I’ve been using it for storage since the renovation. The furniture from the grand room filled every last bit of free space.”
Ryan came up beside Joe. He held up his phone. “Dead.”
From the storm or courtesy of the guys outside? Either option wasn’t good.
“Someone needs to tell Lake what’s happening.” Kirsty’s voice trembled. “We need him here.”
“I can’t get through to him.” Ryan looked grim. “We’re cut off.”
Joe could physically feel the tension in the room as it rose.
“We need to get the women secured.” Joe ran a hand over his jaw. “What about this tower room?”
Ryan had worked security at the castle before and was more familiar with the place.
“It could work,” Ryan said. “It’s the only room on the fourth floor.”
Joe nodded. “It will have to do.” He didn’t like it, but they had to get away from the ground floor and all those damn windows as fast as possible. They were sitting ducks at the moment. “What weapons do you have?”
“Weapons?” Caroline stared at him.
“Guns.”
“None. Josh is a singer, not a mercenary. You might find a tambourine lying around, but you won’t find any guns.”
This just kept getting better. Joe eyed Ryan. “What you got?”
Ryan held up his handgun. “That’s it. It won’t last long.”
Joe cursed. “That’s about what I’ve got too.”
“Josh has a baseball bat,” Caroline said.
They were up shit creek if a baseball bat was all they had for backup. Still, he’d use anything he could get his hands on at this point.
“Grab it,” Joe ordered, making Caroline frown. He’d forgotten she didn’t like taking orders. In Caroline’s world, she was boss. She’d have to get used to a different order of things, because this was a situation she couldn’t control.
“There are knives in the kitchen,” Shona said.
“Yeah, and how many of you know how to use a knife?” Joe asked her.
Every hand in the room went up.
“To stab someone,” Joe amended, and all the hands went down again.
“Someone needs to go fetch Lake,” Kirsty said again. “We need him.”
Joe noticed the redhead had folded her arms in an attempt to hide her trembling hands.
“We’ll go,” the twins said at the same time.
“No. Absolutely not.” Were they trying to get him killed? “If I let Grunt’s wife go out into danger, he’ll kill me.”
“And I suppose it’s fine to let me go on my own? What do you think I am? The disposable twin?” Megan put her fists on her hips and glared at him.
“There’s a good chance we’re all going to die while you lot stand around arguing,” Margaret said.
“Thanks for that cheery thought, Mum,” Kirsty said.
“Magenta can go with Megan,” Joe said, pointing to the moody goth.
“No,” Margaret said. “We need Magenta here. She has skills that might come in handy.”
“Like what?” demanded the goth. “I’m a caving expert. Does it look like we’re underground?”
“You could rappel o
ff the side of the building. You know what to do with ropes. You have skills. Survival skills. We might need them. You stay.” Margaret used her no-argument voice.
Magenta rolled her eyes.
“Look, the longer we stand around arguing, the less chance we have of anyone getting out of here to fetch help. I’m going with my sister.” Claire gave Joe the same look she gave her husband when she was being stubborn. It had no effect on him. He was pretty sure you had to be having sex with her for it to work.
“No. You’re not,” Joe said.
“Yes. I am. Which puts you in a bad position, Joe, because if I go Grunt will kill you, and if Megan goes alone and anything happens to her, I will kill you.”
“Or at least get Grunt to do it,” Megan amended. “Either way, you’re Grunt food.”
“Fuck.”
“Language!” Heather Donaldson shouted. She turned to her daughters. “I don’t like the idea of you two going outside. We don’t know what’s out there. We don’t know who’s waiting. It’s dangerous.”
Joe pointed at Heather. “What she said.”
“Suck up,” Megan told him. “Mum, we’re the best option. You lot are too old and will never be able to run in the snow.” She motioned to the retired women of Knit Or Die.
“Thanks a lot!” Shona snapped.
“Caroline is pregnant. Kirsty is getting married tomorrow,” Megan carried on, as though Shona’s outburst was irrelevant. “Magenta is too conspicuous, as she’s dressed in her usual black, and hello, we’re surrounded by white. Jena is too accident prone; she’ll knock herself out before she gets anywhere. Abby has a kid and two more on the way.” She eyed the huge belly. “Possibly any day now,” she added. “And Julia has been hiding behind the ficus for the duration of the party. We all know if she’s confronted by a scary guy, she’ll just pass out. No offence, Julia.”
“None taken,” squeaked the ficus.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Margaret said to the huge plant in the corner. “I thought working for Lake these past months would give you some confidence.” She turned to Kirsty. “She isn’t any better now than she was when she worked for that television producer.”
Here Comes the Rainne Again Page 3