Her Deadly Inheritance

by Beth Ann Ziarnik

  A different light loomed ahead. She moved toward it. The overhead lights ended where another passage opened to her right. Her heart thudding in her chest, she turned to face the opening. A slight incline of the stone floor lost itself in darkness with no light switches visible at its mouth. With that incline, the second tunnel would eventually open in the forest.

  Shuddering, she backed away from the shadowy tunnel and turned to stumble the last few yards to stand where the main passage ended at a large opening above Trout Bay. A crooked tree growing in the cliff’s face hung over the opening and pale moonlight filtered through its leaves.

  Numbness swept over her as she gazed into the bay’s dark, lapping waters. She could no longer hope against hope. The passageway gave unprotected access to Windtop and to her mother.

  Throwing a sports bag packed with his clothing into the back of Windtop’s Jeep, Clay slammed the hatch. He’d made all the necessary arrangements. Later, when the Bradwells’ guests were delivered to their boats, Carver would ride along and retrieve Bradwell’s boat from its berth at the marina. He would then pick up the Jeep near Williams Landing and return it to the carriage house.

  Clay was free to leave. At the marina, he’d transfer everything from the boat to his truck and drive through the night. He should arrive just in time to meet with his new client tomorrow.

  Yet if everything appeared so right, why did he have this uncomfortable sense that something was badly amiss? Whatever it was, he had no time to figure it out. If he didn’t leave now, he’d lose out on a chance at his biggest contract so far. The one that would not only keep him in business but get him out of the country the minute he settled his score with Janice’s killer.

  He climbed into the Jeep and took off. He’d return early the day after tomorrow and take care of his unfinished business, and no one would know, least of all Jill.

  The headlight beams pierced the forest shadows along the island’s sandy road as he kept a sharp eye for deer or bear. Yet he couldn’t dislodge his longing for Jill. The same sort of longing he had seen in her eyes. He slammed the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. He shouldn’t leave her like this. She was sure to do something foolish while he was gone. God, please keep her from harm. Did God even hear him?

  Movement in his peripheral vision gave him a split second before a large buck stepped onto the road directly in front of him. Adrenaline shot through his veins. He veered sharply to the left, barely missing the huge animal.

  Momentary triumph froze as his front tire struck something solid in the dark. Tossed a foot in the air, the Jeep slammed back to earth while he jammed on the brake to miss a tree and wrestle the vehicle to a stop.

  Arms aching and heart pumping, he inhaled deeply to steady himself. As far as he could tell, he had missed both buck and tree by a fraction and hadn’t suffered more than a bruise or two. He grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment and went to check for any damage.

  Resting at an awkward angle, the Jeep seemed to be all right until he came to the front, passenger-side tire. He trained the pool of light on it.

  Flat!

  The tree stump behind the Jeep, sporting fresh scrapes on its bark, was the culprit. He yanked open the back hatch to pull out the spare. It was soft. When he couldn’t find the air pump, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Someone didn’t want him to leave. “All right, what’s going on?”

  His heart began to thud in his chest. A strong sense of Jill in danger overwhelmed him. She needed him. Now! Fear boiled up in his chest as he turned back to Windtop at a dead run.

  Was God letting it happen again? “She trusts you just as Janice did,” he muttered.

  Will you trust me?

  Clay blinked and stumbled. He’d never before heard the voice of God in his heart. Janice had and so did Jill, but not him.

  Now God chose to talk to him?

  A flicker of hope flamed to life as he churned down the road toward Windtop. God, help me get to Jill in time, and I’ll never doubt you again.

  Jill shivered in the dampness of the stone tunnel Lenore, no doubt, knew from all the stories her grandmother had told her. This was also the explanation for Windtop’s missing antiques.

  And her mother’s death.

  Her body trembled so violently she wasn’t sure she could continue to stand. Her hopes that Maggie was wrong vanished. Once made known, this discovery could destroy the entire family. But then, what would her aunt care as long as she gained Windtop?

  Lenore! It always came down to Lenore.

  Jill’s breathing came in spasms. “Lord, please don’t let her get away with this!”

  Forgive, child.

  Weeping, she shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t!”

  She crumbled within. The very words Clay had spoken about Janice’s killer. She understood them now. Some wrongs were too awful to forgive.

  It was one thing to forgive her uncle for failing to protect them when her mother was alive, but this? How could God ask that of her?

  “I don’t want to forgive!”

  If you do not forgive, I cannot forgive you.

  She had known all along it could come to this. Hoped it never would.

  She buried her face in her hands. “Lord, please help me. For your sake, please make me willing. Help me to forgive again because right now, I don’t want to.”

  Her whispers echoed in the stone tunnel, and she froze before glancing around the passageway. She saw no one, but a niggling that she was no longer safe overwhelmed her. An intense urge to run gripped her at the same time a violent trembling seized her knees. She turned to retrace her steps, her heart pumping faster than her feet. Skidding on tiny pebbles, she stumbled toward the unexplored passage.

  What was that?

  She paused to listen. Only a steady dripping came to her as she peered into the darkness. This was probably the quickest way back to the party but also the only way a threat might reach her.

  The whisper of a sound moved closer, and a prickling raced along her skin. Smothering a cry, she grasped her long skirts, lifted them out of the way, and ran for the stairs.

  Her footsteps rang out as she dashed up the metal steps. Another heavier set sounded discordantly behind her, gaining on her. Gasping for air, she pushed harder. A faint light shone above as she neared Windtop’s second floor. She strained toward it in reckless abandon.

  The exit! She leapt into the cavity, slapped the two buttons on the back of the panel, and flung herself into the hall. The panel swung silently into place.

  And slid open again.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Clay raced along Windtop’s gravel drive. Help me reach Jill in time, God. Forgive me. Jill was right. You were never to blame for Janice’s death. You never wanted her to die like that, and you don’t want Jill to die at that madman’s hands either. Why else would the Jeep lie disabled with him racing back to Jill?

  The house appeared dark except for a faint glow on the second floor. He tried the door. Locked. He hurried through the gazebo garden.

  “Merrick.”

  He turned toward the sound of Bradwell’s voice.

  “You’re still here?”

  Clay glanced behind Bradwell. “Have you seen Jill?”

  The man shook his head. “But I’ll help you find her.”

  “I’ll find her myself.” The man would only slow him down. He didn’t have a moment to lose.

  He quickly canvassed the party, his gut tightening. No one had seen her for some time. She had to be in the house. If she was, he had only one way to get to her. He strained every muscle to reach the hidden entranceway in the forest.

  There!

  He opened the hatch, and Button shot out. His heart leapt into his throat. Jill had found the passageway.

  Jill backed away. Carver stepped out, grinning. His chest heaved nearly as hard as hers. “So, dear cousin, you discovered Windtop’s secret.”

  Every nerve in her body worked against her. This explaine
d why, when as children they played hide and seek, he always found her but she never found him until, like magic, he appeared. He knew all along about this passageway.

  “You’re frightened. Your mother was too. Often. Those last few summers proved especially amusing. But then …” He shrugged. “She caught me with a few trinkets.”

  “You were stealing.”

  He ground his teeth. “Not stealing, cousin. Taking what was rightfully mine. I am, after all, Windtop’s rightful heir through both my father’s and my mother’s sides of the family.”

  Jill edged away. “The law wouldn’t see it that way.”

  “The law doesn’t matter. Where are you going?”

  His mocking concern sent prickles dancing over her skin.

  The muscles along his jaw twitched. “I haven’t finished yet.”

  She glanced through the railing to the front door below. She’d have to disarm the security system. Could she do it before he caught her?

  “You may as well not look for help,” he said. “No one knows we’re here.”

  Jill snapped her attention back to Carver and his crooked smile as he inched toward her.

  “I kept an eye on you all evening,” he said. “When you left the party, I knew you had found the handkerchief. Clever of me to leave that clue, wasn’t it?” His cold gaze sickened her, turning her muscles to jelly. She stared, afraid to blink.

  “I had to do something, cousin. You’re quite clever. In time, you would have figured it out. I couldn’t allow that. You see, I don’t belong behind bars, so I had no choice. Just as I had no choice when your mother discovered my clever enterprise.”

  His admission hit her like a club to her stomach.

  She forced herself to breathe. “You—!”

  Carver put up the palms of his hands. “Now, now. Don’t beg me to reconsider. Your mother tried that, muttering some nonsense about my eternal soul.”

  Jill sucked rapid breaths. Her mother had tried to talk to him about Jesus?

  He yawned. “It did no good, of course. Her demise took mere moments.”

  Carver narrowed his eyes to cold slits. “And, now, dear cousin …” He lunged to grab her.

  She dodged, his hand grazing her arm.

  He moved slowly forward. “You’re quick, but why make this difficult? Merrick can’t rescue you this time.”

  Clay? She tensed. “What have you done to him?”

  “Nothing. He left on his own.”

  Carver lunged and trapped her upper arms, his fingers digging in painfully. She jerked again and again to free herself, but he held tight. “Stop!” he roared.

  Stop? Was he crazy? She kicked and jerked until, finally, he shook her so hard that her hair fell loose around her shoulders and her neck throbbed.

  He pressed his face so close she could smell alcohol fumes on his breath. “Accept it, Jill. Like mother, like daughter.” He dragged her toward the railing. “Just another suicide.”

  She continued to fight him. “No one will believe that!”

  “Oh, yes, they will. Your near-attempt in Chicago. Your odd behavior lately.” He grinned. “And your suicide note.”

  Jill glared at him. “I wrote no such thing!”

  “Oh, but you did.” He trapped both her hands in the iron grip of his left and pulled a paper from the pocket of his dinner jacket.

  She stared at the letter she had written the night Tia begged her to stay.

  “I found this treasure in your wastebasket.”

  Jill slumped. Her words could be taken as a suicide note. Drew and Lenore would believe him, and the police would believe them.

  Carver tucked the letter away and grabbed her chin, forcing her head up. “Look at it this way, cousin. I’m doing you a favor. You are about to reap your eternal reward.”

  Laughing at his little joke, he relaxed his grip.

  Jill wrenched herself free. “Only God has the right to take a life.”

  “Well, then …” He pulled her back, pushing his face close to hers. “Call me God!”

  Digging his fingers into her flesh, he dragged her closer to the railing.

  “No!” She wriggled and writhed, kicking at his legs. She tried to bite him.

  He slapped her face with a stinging blow. “Enough!”

  She drew back and clenched her teeth. Now only holding her with one hand, he grasped at her with the other. As she jerked away, his fingers tangled in her necklace, and the strand broke, scattering pearls at their feet.

  Carver’s feet slipped out from beneath him. Surprise flashed across his face. His hands flew up in the air as he fell backward. Striking his head on the corner of the hall table, he slid to the floor as the oil lamp rocked and toppled. Plunging through the uprights of the railing, its oil chamber shattered on the entrance hall’s parquet floor. With a whoosh of flame, the fire spread.

  Jill’s breath caught. The old house would go up in no time! She raced for the passageway. Carver groaned, and she stopped to look back. Even he didn’t deserve to die like this. Crackling fire and smoke began to rise from the entrance hall, making its way through the wide stairwell to the third floor.

  “Carver, get up!”

  When he didn’t move, she ran back and tugged at him. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  He sat up, rubbed his head, and shook it. His eyes rolled and then focused. As he stumbled to his feet, she dashed for the metal stairs and heard him right behind her.

  He grabbed her arm and swung her around. “No one runs from me,” he growled. “Not you and not Merrick’s little witch.”

  Jill stared unblinkingly. “You killed Janice.”

  He sneered. “No one refuses me either. She got what she deserved.”

  “You’re … crazy!” she whispered.

  His upper lip curled as his pupils turned to dark pinholes. The tiny muscles in his jaw jumped. “You’ll never say that again!”

  He still meant to kill her? No way! Screaming, she slammed her heel down on the top of his shoe. She would not be his next victim.

  Howling, he cursed and released his grip.

  A fist shot past her head, and the door to the passageway closed.

  Clay pounced on Carver before they hit the floor. He caught the scum in a choke hold and tightened it. What a pleasure to see the beast’s face turned red, then purple.

  “Stop, Clay! You’re killing him.” Jill pulled at his shirt.

  Clay held on but turned to face Jill. “This piece of filth killed—”

  “I know. Let the law punish him.” The words quivered on her lips. She released him and stepped back.

  He yanked on Carver’s throat. “He tried to kill you!”

  “Clay, if his life ends, so does yours … ours. Please. Don’t.”

  His gaze locked with hers. Was this really what he wanted?

  You have a choice, child. Jill or …

  He released his hold, and Carver fell back on his elbows, coughing as flames engulfed the wide stairwell.

  Clay grabbed Jill and thrust her in front of him. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Jill had taken only a few steps when Clay grunted and plowed into her. Propelled forward, she fought to keep her balance and whirled around to see Clay punch Carver. Her cousin backed up. Before Carver could ready himself for another charge, Clay lowered his shoulder and rammed. Carver staggered backward into the railing. With a loud crack, the old wood gave way.

  Teetering, Carver flung his arms overhead. His eyes widened as Clay sprang forward. For a split second, Carver hung in the thick, rising smoke above the flames. Then, screaming, he plunged into the crackling inferno.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jill froze. The roar of flames licked up the walls while clacking debris fell to the entrance hall. Clay turned to her, his right fist clenched, his skin pale, and his eyes vacant. She laid her hand on his chest.

  Shivers wracked his body as much as hers. Was he in shock? Did he feel as sickened as she did?

  Fire engulfing the
stairwell had almost reached the second floor. The acrid smoke rising through the wide stairwell must have filled the third floor, for it now snaked along the ceiling high above them. Coughing, she rubbed her nose. Her eyes stung. The heat was becoming unbearable. She turned and opened the passageway just as a chunk of flaming debris crashed on the floor behind Clay.

  With a hacking cough, he leapt clear and caught her by her waist, propelling her before him into the passageway. “Go!” He coughed again. “I’m right behind you.”

  He must have activated the passageway door, which slid into place, cutting off the smoke before much could enter.

  Racing down the metal steps, Jill heard Clay follow and pushed to increase her speed. The image of Carver plunging to his death played through her mind in a repetitive loop. Her cousin crashing through the railing, suspended in midair. Clay lunging. Carver’s scream as he fell.

  With a smoke-scratchy ache in her throat, she raced downward. Could they make it out in time? Or would the dry building above them come crashing down, taking them with it?

  Her heart thrummed in her rib cage. Clay had risked his life to come back for her, but Carver had died. They reached the bottom of the steps, and her stomach spasmed. She bent over and retched.

  The crackle of fire and shattering glass reached them through the damp night air as Clay grasped Jill’s hand and helped her from the passageway into the forest. An eerie play of flame and shadow danced beyond the treetops with enough light to glimpse her stricken face.

  She launched herself at him, clinging. He closed his arms around her, holding her close. If only he could tell her everything would be all right, but very soon, they would have questions to answer. Those questions would bring the whole ugly story to light. As for him, he would accept whatever the law decided.

  He slipped his right hand into his jeans pocket for a moment and pushed the button from Carver’s shirt deeper. She didn’t seem to notice. He stroked her silken hair, its faint odor of smoke reminding him of how close she had come to death.