Rigo snorted. “Does she think I carry it around on my key chain? Ask the security staff to figure out how to get you in there. They’re keeping an eye on all the crown properties.”
She wanted to ask whom she should speak to, but there were easier ways to find that out than asking Rigo. “No problem.”
An hour later a stone-faced young man had driven her into the foothills of the mountains east of Casteleone and was unlocking the large wood double doors of a looming stone edifice that seemed to have been inspired by Grimm fairy tales.
It had actual castellated battlements. “I wonder if they’ve ever poured boiling oil down on invaders from up there?”
“The large glass windows suggest a later period. Nineteenth century revivalism, perhaps.” The security guard made Rigo seem jovial.
“Oh.” She stepped inside, camera at the ready. “Do you suppose there’s electricity or will we have to light candles?”
The guard switched on a long bank of dated-looking switches, illuminating a series of black iron chandeliers and wall sconces. She switched on the flash in her phone and took some photos. The stone floor was laid in a pattern weaving light with dark stone. Dark wood paneling made the walls hard to capture, but the deep coffered ceiling had gold accents that caught the light.
The space had an austere beauty but could hardly be called comfortable. And there was barely any furniture. Just a grouping of two high-backed chairs near the vast carved stone fireplace, and in another room, a long, rectangular dining table with a scarred surface. The dining table had no chairs.
Upstairs, only one of the thirty-eight bedrooms had a bed in it, and that smelled very musty. The bathrooms looked to be of 1950s vintage, with heavy, white fixtures, and the whole place needed a good scrubbing.
She took a lot of photos and texted them to Beatriz, who occasionally asked her for a close up of something. Beatriz wanted more pictures of the grounds so she went outside to take them, the dour blond guard close behind her.
There was a walled enclosure that was probably once a vegetable or flower garden but now nothing grew there but unmowed grass dotted with wildflowers. What a perfect place for dogs to play! There was an old greenhouse whose glass had mostly fallen out of the frame and lay in smashed neglect on the ground, but the elaborate domed frame made her think what an amazing aviary it would make if you replaced the glass with netting.
The lawn around the castle—they could call it a lodge all they wanted, but she knew a castle when she saw one—had reverted to a soft meadow that brushed her calves as she walked through it. Butterflies and dragonflies flitted among the seed heads. What a shame to mow all these pretty wildflowers! She took pictures anyway, and of the weedy driveway, which would probably get doused with toxic chemicals, and sent them to Beatriz.
By the time she got back to the palace it was midafternoon, and she worried that Rigo would be upset that she’d neglected her duties. She headed into his office as soon as she returned. He sat behind the desk buried in a pile of papers. “Place still standing, is it?” He didn’t look like he cared much one way or the other.
“It’s lovely there. So peaceful. And so many wildflowers! You should see all the butterflies.”
“I imagine the family will want to evict them to make way for the coroneted heads of Europe,” he said drily. “And they can do whatever they like as far as I’m concerned.”
“I’ll let Beatriz know.” She managed a brave smile. “Should I tell them I need to get back to my work?
“Absolutely, but first there’s something I need to ask you.”
“What?” Her pulse ratcheted up for no reason at all. His stare had a way of pinning you to the spot.
“Did your father ask you to take the job here?”
CHAPTER FIVE
“Uh.” Bella froze. She felt her face heat and prayed it wasn’t turning bright red. “What?”
She was a terrible liar.
“He told me about the job. He didn’t beg me to take it or anything.” More of a strong suggestion.
“Has he shown an interest in the work you’re doing?” She could swear Rigo’s eyes narrowed slightly. Why did her heart feel as if it was about to burst out of her chest?
She shrugged. “Why would he? He has his own concerns.”
“Concerns that we are currently investigating.” Rigo leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. “Be sure to let me know if he shows an interest.”
“I will.” She attempted a thin smile. As if she would put this arrogant prince’s needs above those of her own father. He obviously had no conception of how loyalty worked. Her dad might not be the warmest guy in the world, but he was the only family she had left and she wasn’t about to betray him.
“I need you to invite several individuals to the palace for an interview. We’re looking for information that can help us solve the murders.”
“Are they suspects?” She didn’t much like the idea of making contact with hardened killers. What if they took a dislike to her?
“No. They’re more…persons of interest. Your father is one of them.” He shoved the printed list at her. “This list is confidential and does not leave this room. Please call each one, introduce yourself—as your father’s daughter as well as an employee of the palace—and invite them here at the time and date printed by each name.”
“No problem.” She recognized every name on the list. Four of them were close friends of her father and the others were equally well-known members of the local upper crust. Not at all scary, thank goodness. “Who will they be meeting with?” She was sure at least one of them would want details.
“Me.”
“I’ll call them right now.”
“Call your father today, then call the rest tomorrow.”
She frowned slightly. Wouldn’t it be more efficient to call them all at once? Still, it wasn’t her job to argue. “Okay. Should I use my own phone?”
“Uh, yes. Why not?”
She pulled out her phone. Rigo sat watching her from behind the desk. Was he going to keep his grim gaze on her while she made the call? She hoped not. It was hard enough to sound natural with her dad sometimes anyway. “I’ll call him right now, then, shall I?”
“Please do.” He went back to his papers.
She sucked in a breath and dialed. Uncharacteristically, her father answered right away. “What’s going on?” he asked, before she could even say hello.
“I’m at the palace, standing in Prince Rigo’s office, and he’s asked me to invite you in for a…meeting, on Thursday at ten o’clock. Can I tell him that’s okay?” She wanted to get it all out before he had a chance to ask probing questions that would be awkward to answer in front of Rigo.
She stood facing away from her boss, but she could swear she felt his dark gaze burning two holes in her back. Just being in the same room with Rigo made her jumpy and awkward.
Her dad was taking a very long time to answer. “Dad?”
“I’m checking my calendar. Thursday at ten. Can we move it to eleven?”
She didn’t have to ask Rigo. “No. It has to be ten.”
“I suppose I’ll have to move a few things around then. I’ll be there.”
“Great. Thanks, Dad. I suppose I’ll see you when you’re here.” She hadn’t seen him since she moved into her own place. He’d been traveling, he said.
“I look forward to it, my dear.” She wondered if he imagined someone was listening over a speakerphone. That wasn’t usually how he spoke to her.
She resisted the urge to tease him. “Me too.”
They said their goodbyes, and she hung up.
She turned triumphantly to Rigo. “That went well.”
“Indeed.” His eyes were smiling—for once—which gave her a weird thrill of satisfaction. “I look forward to meeting him.”
“It’s odd that you’ve never met before, really.”
“If I lived here I might have, but I left Altaleone for university and I’ve been away ever since.�
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“Didn’t you miss it? I’ve lived abroad a lot too, but I miss home terribly when I’m away. It reminds me of my mom, because I lived here until she died. I still miss her every day. Then there’s something about being surrounded by mountains that makes me feel like the universe is giving me a hug.” As the last words came out of her mouth, she realized Rigo probably wasn’t the ideal audience for them and wished she could shove them back in.
But the smile in his eyes deepened, even if there still wasn’t one anywhere near his mouth. “That’s an interesting way of looking at our rather forbidding landscape.”
“Forbidding? The mountains are steep, but we have lush pasture, streams that flow all year round, and the prettiest villages and hamlets anywhere in Europe.”
“I want to appoint you head of the tourist board.” She could swear one corner of his mouth was attempting to lift slightly.
“Is there one?”
“I have no idea.”
“I guess I’d better stick with being a lady-in-waiting.”
A tiny crease formed in his brow. “That’s such an old-fashioned title. We should choose a more appropriate one.”
“Something vague and meaningless like…executive associate.”
His mouth did lift, and a deep dimple appeared in one cheek. “Exactly.”
“I think I prefer lady-in-waiting. It goes better with my taste in lacy dresses.” She glanced down at the pretty dress she’d upcycled from an old evening dress she’d found in a Zurich thrift shop. “And Squiggles likes it better too.”
He glanced dubiously at the bag hanging from her shoulder. “At least he’s stopped shrieking.”
“He’s adapted well to palace life. I think he enjoys being in the thick of things. It is lovely here. And everyone’s so nice.” Except you. But Rigo wasn’t being too beastly today. “I really appreciate your letting me bring him to work. Not everyone would be so understanding.”
“I can imagine.”
Bella was back at home putting out food for the dogs when her phone rang. “Hi, Dad.”
“You’re alone?”
“Yes. Except for the animals of course. You know I’m never really—”
“What the hell is this inquisition tomorrow about?”
“I don’t really know. They have me going through old tax returns from decades ago, but I’m not sure if it’s related to that at all.”
“Tax returns? Personal tax returns? That’s not legal.”
“Not personal. Corporate returns. So far it’s been the Altacord corporation.”
She heard her dad flick his cigar lighter and draw in smoke. “What does that have to do with the murders?”
“I have no idea. Seriously, don’t worry about it. Everyone at the palace is so nice. I’m pretty sure they just want to pick all of your brains for ideas about who could be behind the murders.”
“What do you mean all?”
“There was a list of names.” She rattled off the ones she could remember. She knew several were friends or associates of her father’s.
“Everyone on that list was already asked to come in and be questioned, and they all said no.”
“Well, tomorrow I have the unenviable task of asking them again. Why don’t they want to come in? Surely it’s just being a good citizen to help your country solve the murder of your queen and her son?”
Her father was silent. “Smells like a fishing expedition to me.”
“I don’t imagine that they think any of you are guilty. They’re at a loose end and want your insight. You will come, won’t you?”
“Naturally. I don’t want to upset their royal majesties.”
“I thought you were good friends with crown prince Emil before he was killed.” Her dad’s reluctance was odd, considering they were old hunting buddies.
“I was. I miss him. He’d never have had the nerve to call the entire Cross of Blood on to the carpet.”
“Cross of what?”
“Nothing.” She imagined him puffing on his cigar in the pause. “I’ll be there. Who will I have the pleasure of talking to at the palace.”
“Rigo. He’s my boss. Or at least so far he is.”
“The lawyer prince.” She heard a sneer in her father’s voice.
“Yes. He practices law in New York. He’s only back here to unravel this mess.”
“He probably bought his degree and maintains a firm just for something to do between sailing competitions.”
She laughed. “Oh, no. You’ve got Rigo very wrong. In fact I’d say he’s the exact opposite. He’s so afraid that people will think that about him that he’s possibly the most demanding, rigorous, and respected lawyer anywhere. Did you know he’s never lost a case?”
“Fabulous.”
The next morning she headed in bright and early, but she had barely sat down with her files when she felt Rigo’s tall, shadowy form looming over her. Her whole body reacted to his presence. “Morning,” she said cheerily, trying to act natural.
“Did your father call you last night?”
“He did, actually.” Was there anything wrong with that?
“And you told him the names of the other people on the list?” He lifted a brow slightly.
He’d said the list wasn’t to leave the room. But he hadn’t forbidden her to discuss its contents. “Yes.”
“Good. I think you’ll find they’ll be ready to talk when you call them this morning.”
She frowned. “You sound like they’re all talking to each other. Like there’s some kind of conspiracy.”
“A conspiracy. Hmm. Interesting idea.” His inscrutable expression irked her. Was he poking fun at her?
An ugly sensation clawed at her chest. “You don’t think my dad had anything to do with the murders?” She knew it was impossible, but she didn’t want Rigo getting any ideas.
“Do you?” Those cool dark eyes peered into her soul.
“Of course not! Why would my father want to kill his close friend?”
“Your father was close to mine?”
“Yes. They hunted every week in season. I know my father misses him.”
Rigo seemed to file that information away mentally. She hoped the connection would be beneficial to her father, not the opposite.
“Have you ever heard of the Cross of Blood society?”
“Cross of…” She trailed off as she remembered her father using that phrase on the phone. “Is it related to any of this?”
Rigo stared at her. She felt her pulse quicken as he simply watched her expression, maybe hoping it would somehow betray her. Her heart beat faster, and she could feel heat rising up her neck. She was starting to feel like a defendant in the dock.
“I think it might be.”
He turned and left the room before she could think of anything intelligent to say. Did this mean he thought her father was involved in a conspiracy among the elite members of Altaleone society? What would they gain from the murder of their queen and her immediate heir?
And did Rigo think she was involved?
CHAPTER SIX
Darias and Rigo drove out to the old hunting lodge on the pretext of deciding what renovations were needed, but mostly to get away from any prying eyes and ears at the palace. His neck started to ache as he drove up the driveway. “I hate this place.”
“Why?” Darias looked surprised. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s where I caught Dad with you-know-who.”
“Are you still hung up on that? It was more than a decade ago.”
“He cheated on our mother. Don’t you think that’s despicable?”
“Yes, but he’s dead and I’ve moved on.”
They drove up the long weedy driveway. Darias could remember that day like it was yesterday. He’d wanted to walk in the hills and think over something—he had no recollection of what—and when he arrived at the house he’d seen her small sports car in the drive next to his dad’s car.
And she’d done it because of him.
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nbsp; “So this Bella—” Darias pulled up in front of the house. “Do you trust her?”
“I don’t trust anyone. You know me.” Bella was far too “sweet” to be believed. And she thought that innocent smile and guileless manner had him eating out of her hand. She couldn’t be more wrong. “But she’s proving useful. I had her call to invite her father in for an interview. Last time he was asked in for an interview his lawyer got him out of it. I thought I’d have to spend months finding legal grounds for a subpoena, but all I needed was Bella. Sometimes the personal touch works a lot faster than the iron fist of the law. I’m hoping word spreads through the group and they decide to play nice. That will save a lot of time and aggravation.”
“That’s a plus. But don’t you worry that having her in the house risks leaking information that makes us vulnerable?”
“We all know better than to reveal anything critical. Which would be more of a danger if we actually had any information.” Rigo shrugged. “I’m just pulling threads here and there and hoping the garment unravels.” They’d climbed out of the car, and Darias started walking toward the steps. Rigo recoiled. The events he’d witnessed here had driven a wedge between him and his father that was still in place when he died. It had also permanently soured his view of the institution of marriage and the idea of romantic love in general. “Do we have to go in?”
“Come on, Rigo. It was ancient history.”
“Not to me. I told Dad—later on—that she’d told me that if I wouldn’t sleep with her she’d seduce my father. I thought it would make him see sense.”
“He didn’t believe you?”
“No.” Rigo should his head. Anger pulsed through him, heating his blood. “He thought she was madly in love with him and that I was jealous. He believed…her over his own son.”
“I can see how that could sting, but forgiveness is divine and all. Your holding a grudge doesn’t help anyone.”
“I’m not holding a grudge. I’m entirely rational. He betrayed our mother.”
“Whatever happened to her, anyway?”
“No idea and I don’t want to know.” Rigo walked into the gloomy foyer, trying to banish the images of his father naked in the arms of the younger woman. Betraying his wife and the mother of his children, and unapologetically refusing to stop.
Taming the Royal Beast (Royal House of Leone Book 6) Page 4