Page 20 of Secret Sisters


  He didn’t say anything. He just looked at her.

  “Is this the kind of work you did when you consulted for the FBI? Profile killers and make terrible predictions about who might be the next victim to die a violent death?”

  “It gets old,” Jack said. He sounded unutterably weary. “Very, very old.”

  “No shit.”

  Jack said nothing.

  “I’m so very sorry that I dragged you back into a world that you tried to leave behind,” she whispered.

  “No.” He moved abruptly, crossed the small distance between them, and wrapped his arms around her. “That’s not the problem, Madeline. The problem is that I’m terrified that this time I might screw up.”

  “Just remember that you’re not alone in this.”

  She hugged him very close and very tight. After a while some of the cold seeped out of him.

  “Madeline,” he said.

  That was all he said, but he said it very quietly, as if it were all that needed saying in that moment.

  They stood together in the shadows for a very long time.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Daphne glanced uneasily toward the kitchen doorway. “They’ve been out there quite a while.”

  “I know.” Abe did not look up from the screen of his computer. “You know, I’m starting to think that she’s good for Jack. He’s different when he’s with her.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I told you, the family has been worried about him for a while now.”

  “Because of his problems with relationships?” she asked.

  “It’s partly that. All he cares about these days is his business. Like I said, Mom is afraid he’s given up on marriage.”

  Daphne looked at the kitchen doorway again. “What’s your theory of why Jack never married?”

  Abe hesitated. She got the feeling that he was reminding himself that he needed to be a little more cautious now.

  “He’s been busy building Rayner Risk Management,” Abe said. “Takes energy to get a business off the ground, especially when you’re starting over from scratch.”

  “That’s what Jack had to do?”

  “His first company, the one he co-founded with a friend from his FBI days, went bust after the friend was killed in a diving accident. So yes, it’s been a lot of hard work getting RRM up and running.”

  “What about you?” she said. “Think you’ll remarry someday?”

  Abe went very still. He did not take his eyes off the screen. “Probably. It’s what we do in our family.”

  “Get married?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But next time you’ll be more careful, right?”

  “I’ll try to be more careful. But let’s face it, there are no guarantees when it comes to marriage. I messed up the first time. I’d just as soon not make the same mistake again.”

  She shuddered. “I know where you’re coming from. I feel the same way.”

  “You’re still grieving,” Abe said, very serious now. “You need to give yourself time.”

  “I stopped grieving the day I found out that Brandon was having an affair with another woman throughout most of our marriage.”

  “Oh, shit.” Abe sat back in his chair and exhaled heavily. “Sorry. Didn’t realize.”

  She looked at him for a few seconds, and then she smiled. “Just to be clear, I’ve been really pissed off this past year. Not grief stricken.”

  He pondered that for a moment. “So the reason you haven’t been eating well isn’t because you’re in mourning?”

  “I just lost my appetite somewhere along the line. Maybe it was a form of depression or something.”

  “You looked like you enjoyed dinner tonight.”

  “I did.” She paused. “Especially the asparagus.”

  Abe looked pleased. “You’re feeling better, then?”

  “Much better. Talking to Maddie about Brandon was very . . . therapeutic.”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “She reminded me that I outlived the bastard and that, as revenge scenarios go, it doesn’t get any better.”

  Abe whistled appreciatively. “Cold.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I like it. No wonder Madeline and Jack get along together. They have a lot in common. Both of them get to the bottom line in a hurry. So how’s that revenge scenario working out for you?”

  “Very well, thank you. It was just a matter of changing my perspective.”

  “Good. That’s great.” Abe cleared his throat. “So if you’re no longer in mourning and your appetite has returned, does that mean you’re ready to move on?”

  Daphne smiled. “I believe it does.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Jack came awake to the rumble of his cell phone. He opened his eyes, momentarily disoriented by the realization that he was not alone in the bed. He had gotten used to sleeping alone in the past two years. He was not accustomed to the feel of a warm, soft body lying next to him. But he could definitely get used to sharing a bed with this particular warm, soft body, he concluded.

  The phone rumbled again. Madeline stirred.

  “Your phone,” she mumbled. “Not mine.”

  “I knew that.”

  Reluctantly he disentangled himself and sat up on the side of the bed. He reached for the phone and grunted when he saw the code on the screen.

  “Is this some kind of joke, Abe? I’m in the same house, remember? Right down the hall from you.”

  “I was trying to be polite,” Abe said. “I didn’t want to barge in unannounced. Thought I’d call first.”

  Jack looked at Madeline, who was watching him from the shadows. He couldn’t see her expression, but he knew she was wide-awake and listening. He turned his attention back to the phone.

  “Good thinking,” he said. “What the hell is so important you had to wake me up at one o’clock in the morning?”

  “I just got an interesting ping. Woke me up. You know that search you had me run on the recent travel records of everyone involved in this case?”

  The edgy vibe in Abe’s voice would have been amusing under other circumstances, Jack thought. Abe was jacked up on adrenaline.

  “You got something?”

  “I think so. I did a search for Ramona Owens using the Anna Stokes ID. I got a very interesting hit.”

  “Talk to me, Abe. You know I’m not into the melodrama.”

  “She made a trip to Denver about three weeks ago while Daphne was on the cruise. She stayed one night. What do you want to bet she was the one who tossed Daphne’s apartment and stole her computer?”

  “Huh.”

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much the same thing I said. Think that means I might be executive material, after all?”

  “I doubt it. It’s all in the nuance.”

  “I lack nuance?” Abe said, offended.

  “Forget nuance. Have you got anything else?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Have you told Daphne that we may know who tossed her place?”

  There was a short pause on the other end of the connection.

  “As a matter of fact, I did mention it to her,” Abe said.

  This time his voice sounded oddly strained.

  “Before you called me?” Jack asked.

  “I figured Daphne had a right to know first. After all, it was her apartment. Well, that’s all I’ve got for now. See you in the morning. Get some sleep, boss.”

  “Wait, don’t hang up—”

  The line went dead.

  Jack glared at the device. Madeline giggled. He glared at her. She had levered herself up to a sitting position and wrapped her arms around her knees.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “You,” she said. “Confused and disoriented because
someone hung up on you before you could hang up first.”

  He set the phone down on the night table. “You know, keen detective that I am, I’m starting to suspect that Daphne and Abe are getting very . . . friendly.”

  “I’ve noticed that, too,” Madeline said. “Forget Daphne and Abe. Did Abe just tell you that Ramona Owens was the person who searched Daphne’s condo?”

  “Looks like it, yeah. Now all we have to do is figure out who she was working with.”

  “Someone who was willing to murder her.”

  “Yes,” Jack said. “Someone who was willing to use her and then kill her.”

  “Xavier?”

  “He’s certainly at the top of the list of possible suspects.”

  “There’s a list? I thought Xavier was our only viable suspect.”

  “One thing you learn early in my business—there is always a list until you get all the answers.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  “Xavier is out of control,” Travis said. “He’s been under too much stress lately and he’s going to snap. This time he could do some real damage. You know that as well as I do.”

  Egan was standing at the window of Louisa’s study. He did not turn around, but he closed one hand into a fist.

  Louisa, seated at her desk, reached for a tissue. “The doctors at the Institute were so sure that this time they had found the right balance of medications.”

  “Maybe they did,” Travis said. “But that doesn’t mean that Xavier is taking the drugs that were prescribed. We all know he very nearly murdered Madeline Chase and her consultant, Rayner.”

  “No, we don’t know that,” Louisa said. “There’s no proof. No one saw Xavier. Madeline and Rayner claim there was a woman on the scene.”

  At that Egan did turn his head to look at her. “Louisa.”

  She subsided. “When he was a boy they told me it was just anger management issues.”

  She said it as though there were still some hope for a simple diagnosis. The word management, after all, implied that the impulsive rages could be controlled with counseling and meds. But there was no hope of a good outcome, Travis thought. He had to make his parents understand. They were the only ones who could deal with Xavier when he went over the edge. And the former golden boy of the Webster clan was right on the brink.

  “We need to get him out of the way until after the election,” Travis said.

  “That’s over a year from now,” Louisa said. “He’ll never consent to return to the Institute for an entire year. He calls it a prison.”

  “It’s for his own good, as well as the good of the family,” Travis said.

  “If we could just make Xavier understand,” Louisa whispered.

  She was pleading now, Travis thought, just as she had always pleaded Xavier’s case.

  “If we don’t do something, he’s going to kill someone,” Travis said quietly.

  “No,” Louisa whispered. “No, he would never go that far.”

  “Or maybe get himself killed,” Travis added deliberately. “Rayner is in the security business, remember? For all we know he’s carrying a gun.”

  Louisa’s mouth opened. Shock widened her eyes.

  “No,” she said. “Oh, no. Rayner wouldn’t dare—”

  “Don’t be so sure,” Travis said. “Rayner isn’t the kind of man who is easily intimidated by people like Dad.”

  Egan turned his head, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means,” Travis said deliberately, “that you can’t buy off Rayner and you won’t be able to scare him away.”

  “This is all Madeline Chase’s fault,” Louisa said. “I don’t understand why she’s here in the first place. She doesn’t want that old hotel. No one wants it. If she leaves, Rayner will leave. Why does she insist on hanging around?”

  Travis started to pace the small space. “She made it clear that she thinks Tom Lomax was murdered. She wants answers.”

  “That’s the job of the police,” Louisa said. “They’re convinced the killing was the work of a transient who no doubt left the island immediately.”

  “Enough.” Egan held up one hand. “Travis is right. We can’t control Madeline Chase and Jack Rayner. But we can exert some influence over Xavier.”

  “He won’t go back to the Institute for a whole year,” Louisa warned. “Not willingly. He’s not a boy any longer, Egan. We can’t just pack him up and ship him off. Not this time.”

  “I’ve got one tool left in my tool kit,” Egan said quietly. “I can make Xavier’s greatest wish come true. I’ll give him what he needs to set up his own hedge fund—access to his inheritance. I’ll tell him that he can have the money but he has to establish the headquarters offshore.”

  Travis raised his brows. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  Louisa dried her eyes and turned thoughtful. “It might work. At least for a while.”

  Travis stopped in the middle of the room and looked at Egan. “In other words, you’re going to bribe him.”

  Egan turned back to the window. “For the good of the family.”

  “I just hope it works,” Louisa whispered.

  The despair in her eyes was too much. Travis went to the door and let himself out into the hall.

  Confronting his parents had been a gamble. He had talked it over with Patricia first, just as he did all of the important decisions now. She had agreed it was the only available option. Egan and Louisa had always been able to exert some control over Xavier through a combination of bribes and threats. Xavier was amenable to both. He was, after all, a very talented survivor. In the end, he would not do anything that might jeopardize his income and future inheritance.

  Travis went down the hall and turned in to the foyer, eager to escape his parents’ house.

  Xavier was lounging in the arched entranceway, one shoulder propped gracefully against the wall, arms folded across his chest. He smiled his sorcerer’s smile.

  “Have a nice chat with Mom and Dad?” he asked.

  Travis stopped. “It was a chat. Not sure I would characterize it as nice.”

  “Did my name come up?”

  “We discussed the plans for the trip to Europe that everyone seems to think is vital to add some foreign policy cred to my candidacy.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Can we talk later, Xavier? I have to work on my announcement speech with Patricia.”

  “Sure. I’m available anytime for you, brother.”

  Travis started to open the front door, but he stopped when he saw the hot, jealous rage that burned in Xavier’s eyes.

  He’d seen that look before at various times in the past. Xavier’s eyes burned with a hellish fire just before he lost control. Everyone in the family knew the look. It wasn’t the first time they had been forced to deal with the problem of the golden boy.

  Keep your enemies close.

  Travis stopped and glanced at his watch. “You know what? That damned speech can wait. I’m sick of it already and I haven’t even finished the final draft. What do you say we go and grab a beer at the Crab Shack?”

  Xavier thought about that for a few beats. Then he shrugged and pushed himself away from the wall.

  “Why not?” he said. “I’ve always got time for a beer with the next senator from the great state of Washington.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Madeline dreamed . . .

  . . . She walked through the scorched ruins of the burned-out hotel, searching each room for Daphne. The hallway on the second floor was endless. Each door she passed was marked with the same number—209.

  The dreamscape was rendered in the colors of midnight. Icy moonlight slanted through empty windows. A terrible urgency drove her, but she could not move any more quickly. She had to open each door. She could not miss a single room.

/>   It was her fault that her secret sister was trapped somewhere in the ghost hotel . . .

  Somewhere in the endless gray of the dream world a clock struck the time . . .

  The dreamscape shifted and blurred . . .

  She came awake on a surge of adrenaline. Her eyes snapped open. She saw Jack silhouetted against the window. He was looking out into the darkness. His cell phone glowed in his hand.

  She realized that the shifting sensation she had sensed a few seconds earlier had been the movement of the mattress as Jack got out of bed.

  “The motion sensor app just pinged,” he said.

  “There’s someone out there?”

  “Maybe. Could have been a large animal or a falling tree branch. The sensors aren’t foolproof.” He turned away from the window and picked up his trousers. “I’m going to wake Abe. Whatever you do, don’t make a target of yourself by turning on the lights. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  She pushed aside the covers and got to her feet, barely aware of the cold floor.

  Jack took the holstered gun out of the bedside drawer. Fear zinged through her, icing her blood.

  “Jack—”

  “I’m going to take a look outside. You and Daphne will stay here with Abe. Understood?”

  She wanted to argue. She thought about saying something intelligent such as let’s call the cops, but it would take a while for help to arrive. She reminded herself that Jack knew what he was doing. Let the man do his job, she thought.

  She stepped into her slippers, grabbed her robe, and followed Jack out into the dimly lit hall. Abe, clad in only a pair of briefs, was standing in the doorway of his bedroom. He and Jack were talking quietly. When Abe saw Madeline, he ducked back behind the door and peered around the edge, embarrassed.

  “Get some clothes on,” Jack said to him. “Make sure Madeline and Daphne put on their shoes in case you have to get out of the house in a hurry. This guy likes to set fires. Wait downstairs in the main hall. That will give you plenty of options for getting out of the house. Once you’re in place, everyone stays silent. The idea is to make him think we’re all still asleep.”