Chapter Ten
With Caine leading the way, Ivy plunged into the dense woods behind the pond.
“It’s a lot longer this way, but no one can see us. Stay close,” he cautioned.
They slipped from brilliant sunshine to an eerie world of filtered light and shadow. Giant evergreens towered above them, blotting out the sky. The trees grew so close together, that in spots, their branches were interwoven, like arms linked. Footsteps were cushioned by dirt and layers of pine needles. Their nostrils were assaulted by the dank scent of moist earth and the sharp, distinctive aroma of evergreen.
As they moved deeper into the woods, the shadows were more pronounced. They had entered a world of perpetual twilight. Above them the forest towered like giant cathedral spires, and even the normal nature sounds seemed hushed. Few birds except owls preferred the darkness. Even the usual hum of insects was absent.
Ivy had the strangest feeling that if she cupped her mouth and shouted, her voice would bounce off the giant trees, echoing and reechoing throughout the forest.
Caine stopped to get his bearings, and Ivy was grateful for the chance to rest against the trunk of a tree. The rough bark felt cool and slightly damp against her back. As they started up again, she stared at the width of Caine’s shoulders. He was a strong man. But it wasn’t his physical strength that impressed her. There was about him an inner strength that she had sensed from their first encounter. He was a man of great integrity. He had a strong sense of loyalty toward those who depended on him. He would never let them down. She instinctively trusted him. Though Ivy was frightened for Aunt Tru, and worried that the secrets from her past would cause her pain, she felt no fear for herself. She somehow knew Caine would never let her be hurt.
Deep in thought, she stiffened when his hand dropped to her shoulder. Her eyes widened. He lifted a finger to his lips to signal silence.
“We’re almost there. When we enter the clearing, we’ll be at the rear of the cottage. I’m going to run across that open space first, and check to be certain we’re alone. When I wave, run as fast as you can to the back door.”
She nodded.
Caine stood at the edge of the clearing, looking left and right. From a canopy of vines, she watched his lean, muscled figure streak across the clearing and disappear inside the cottage. For long minutes she waited, her heart racing. At this very moment he might have startled the blackmailer inside the building. They could be struggling. Caine could need her. She clamped damp palms together and lifted her fingertips to her lips in a prayerful attitude. She’d promised to wait for his signal. She strained to see the back door, afraid to even blink.
After what seemed an eternity, she saw Caine’s figure appear at the door. He waved. Glancing about first, she dashed across the clearing and stepped inside the cottage. Taking long gulps of air, she followed him from the small laundry-workroom, through the kitchen and into the living room.
“Where will we hide?” she asked.
“When I was looking over the cottage, I noticed a small loft up there.” He pointed to the far side of the room.
“Yes. My father built it for me. I used to call it my studio. Come on.” She grabbed his hand, but he resisted her.
“I couldn’t find a way up there,” Caine complained.
“That’s because we kept the ladder in here.” Ivy opened a small panel in the wall and slid out a rough, handmade ladder.
She leaned it against the loft and led the way up, with Caine following. Then she pulled the ladder up and placed it against the back wall.
Caine glanced around the small loft. It was no larger than eight by ten feet, and carpeted in thick tweed shag. A wide wooden railing ran the length of it. It would be possible to sit behind that railing and see everything without being seen. Above them was a skylight. Below them the entire lower level of the cottage was spread out.
“I don’t want you to speak, Ivy. Not even a whisper. I suspect the writer of those letters will be feeling very jumpy. I don’t want any hint that we’re here, or we just might scare off our blackmailer.”
She nodded.
“Get as comfortable as you can. You may have to stay in one position for a very long time.”
She sat down, leaning back against the wall. With just the turn of her head, she could see in any of three directions below. At her side, Caine sat and lifted her fingers to his lips.
She sat in silence, achingly aware of the man beside her. Though he didn’t speak, his thoughts were mirrored in his eyes. He was remembering the simmering passion that he had unleashed by a simple touch. It was still there, smoldering between them, waiting for release.
The front door opened. Caine dropped Ivy’s fingers. She felt him tense beside her.
Gertrude stood in the doorway, staring around. Cautiously she entered, then walked to the fireplace.
For the first time today, Ivy realized that the stone had been removed, revealing the small safe. Taking an envelope from her pocket, Gertrude thrust it into the recess in the stone, as she had been directed in the note, then placed the cutout stone over the hole. Giving one last glance around, the old woman strode briskly from the cottage, carefully closing the door behind her.
Ivy turned toward Caine. He held a finger to his lips. She nodded.
The next twenty minutes seemed an eternity. Just when Ivy had begun to relax, she heard a sound—a loud tapping sound on the flagstone walk. A moment later, the front door was thrust open. Ivy’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a gasp. She stared down in horror at the figure of her mother.
Diana paused in the doorway to allow her eyes to adjust to the gloom of the house, made darker after a walk in the bright sunshine. She walked across the room, staring at the fine, old leaded windows, running a hand along the neglected wood paneling. For a moment she sat on the hearth and touched a hand to the rough stones of the fireplace. Ivy held her breath as her mother gazed upward, staring at the wood-beamed ceiling. Then she crossed to the kitchen, where they could hear her footsteps echo on the the floor. A few minutes later, Diana again entered the living room. After gazing at the fireplace for long moments, she walked to the hallway that led to the bathroom and bedrooms. Ivy could hear her mother’s footsteps as she paused, first at Ivy’s old room and then at the master bedroom. It was then that she heard the sound.
It started softly, like the wind sighing in the trees. As it grew louder, Ivy turned wide, horrified eyes to Caine. Her mother was crying. Sobbing her heart out. She was grieving. Something long forgotten stirred in Ivy. She remembered her mother dry-eyed beside the coffin. Though Ivy had wept until she thought her heart would break, Diana had remained unemotional throughout the entire ordeal of her husband’s long illness and death. She had kept it all inside. And now, something had triggered the love and grief that she’d denied.
Ivy longed to comfort her. As she made a move to stand, Caine’s hand clamped around her wrist.
“I have to go to her.”
“No.” The word was curt. “You can’t move.” Only when he felt her acquiescence, did he release his hold on her.
Drawing her knees up, Ivy rested her chin and closed her eyes, wishing she could soothe her mother’s pain. Beside her, Caine never moved.
When Diana emerged from the bedroom, she was dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes. With one last lingering look around the old cottage, she opened the door and walked out.
“Then she isn’t the one.” Ivy let out a long sigh of relief and felt her hands tremble.
Caine dropped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close. Once again, they began the agony of waiting.
When the front door opened a second time, there was no warning sound in advance. Ivy felt Caine stiffen beside her. They both stared down at the figure of Darren as he walked quickly into the room. Ivy turned to see the look of stunned disbelief of Caine’s face. Slowly the look was replaced by one of bleak despair.
“Ivy,” Darren called loudly. “Caine. Anyone here?”
Caine laid a
hand on Ivy’s arm to caution her into silence.
Darren strode from the room into the kitchen. A moment later he returned, then walked down the hallway. “Ivy. Caine. You here?”
His voice sounded hollow in the empty house.
“I’d sure like to know where everyone disappeared to today,” he grumbled.
Pulling the front door open, he stepped out into bright sunlight and firmly closed the door behind him.
Ivy turned toward Caine and saw the relief shudder through him. He gave her a weak smile, then dropped his face into his hands.
Sharing Caine’s elation that neither her mother nor his brother had proved to be the guilty party, Ivy touched his shoulder in a gesture of affection. He looked up. His smile widened. Without a word he drew her into his arms and buried his face against her neck.
At a muted sound, they drew apart and stared at the hooded, robed figure crossing the room. He hadn’t used the front door, but had entered instead from the rear of the cottage. Without even looking around he hurried to the fireplace, stepped up on the hearth and removed the stone from its place in front of the safe. Reaching inside, he removed an envelope, tore it open and stuffed the check beneath the sheet that he had fashioned into a disguise. Then he calmly stepped from the hearth and turned.
Ivy found herself staring down at the figure, straining to find something familiar, something that would identify the blackmailer. She turned to see Caine’s reaction. Beside her, Caine’s fists clenched at his sides.
The man left quickly the way he had entered, through the back door. As soon as the door clicked shut, Caine stood and helped Ivy to her feet. Together they lowered the ladder and climbed down from the loft.
“Come on.” Caine threw open the front door and beckoned her to follow. “We can’t let him get away with that check.”
There was no longer any reason to hide. With the sun high in the sky, they ran along the curving ribbon of driveway toward the big house on the hill.
Once they were at the house, Caine summoned the butler. “Chester, have any of the cars been taken from the garage?”
The old man shook his head. “The garage is locked, sir. All the cars are in there.”
“Good. I want you to make sure that none of those vehicles leaves the grounds. No matter what you have to do. Do you understand?”
The little man’s eyes danced. “I knew there was something going on around here. Miss St. Martin’s been acting so funny all morning. Is there some trouble, Mr. St. Martin?”
“There could be, Chester. Just see that no one leaves this place until I say so.”
“Yes sir.” The old man drew himself up to his full five feet four inches and headed for the garage.
“I’m going to find our letter writer, even if I have to search every room in this house,” Caine said through gritted teeth. “Let’s start with Aunt Gertrude’s room. I want to make certain she’s all right.”
Caine knocked on his aunt’s door. There was no sound from within.
“Aunt Trudy. Are you in there?”
Pressing her ear against the door, Ivy muttered. “I hear something. Someone’s in there, Caine. Maybe she’s been hurt.”
“Stand aside, Ivy.” Caine’s features were contorted with rage. “I’m breaking down this door.”
As he threw his shoulder against the door, they could hear the lock turning from inside. Abruptly the door was opened. Gertrude faced them. Tears streamed down her face.
“Oh, Caine.” The old woman’s face crumpled.
Instantly, he caught her in his arms and held her close. “What is it, Aunt Trudy? Have you been hurt?”
She sobbed for long moments against his chest, then pushed herself away. “I seem to have done more crying this weekend than I have in a lifetime. I haven’t been physically hurt, Caine. But the things I’ve learned today have caused so much pain, as well as joy.”
“I don’t understand.”
She led Caine and Ivy into her bedroom. For long minutes she stared at Ivy, as if really seeing her for the first time. Then she turned to the papers on her desk.
“When I returned from the cottage, these were on my desk. Our blackmailer must have entered my room as soon as I left it, and placed these documents here. Then he went out through the balcony and lowered himself on sheets tied together. Since my room overlooks the woods, he figured no one would see him leaving by this method.”
Ivy gasped. “I saw someone on the balcony before breakfast.” To Caine, she explained, “I was walking in the woods. I saw something flutter at the balcony. I thought it was one of the maids.”
“I suppose he took his luggage down then, so that he could escape as soon as he had the money.”
Ivy nodded. “I saw a lot of movement, but by the time I was close enough to see clearly, the figure had disappeared.”
Caine’s face was grim. “We’ve probably lost him. He must have left on foot.”
“I think you should know something else, Caine.” Gertrude held up a familiar-looking slip of paper. “This was shoved under my door a few minutes ago.”
Caine and Ivy stared at the check, and then at each other. Their mouths dropped open.
“It seems our blackmailer has had a change of heart.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he decided my secrets had caused me enough pain through the years. Maybe he just wanted to try something daring.” The old woman shrugged. “This has been the strangest day.” She turned to Caine. “Before my guests leave, I’d like them all to come to the library.”
“Aunt Trudy, you have a right to know who the blackmailer is. We watched him take the check from the safe and put it in his pocket.”
“But he has returned my check. That means he isn’t really guilty of anything more than revealing to me some facts that have been withheld for a lifetime.”
“He sent you threatening letters. He terrorized you. How can you be so quick to overlook what he’s done?”
“Because what he has given me is worth far more than any amount of money.” She touched his cheek. “Please, Caine, ask everyone to meet me in the library.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Please. I want to talk to Ivy alone for a few minutes.”
Caine stared thoughtfully at his aunt, then reluctantly walked from the room. This whole situation just kept getting stranger by the minute.