“Mother,” Melissa said from behind her. “Please—”
“I’ll be all right, won’t I?” she said to the man.
“You behave yourself and you’ll be fine.” He stepped back in the doorway to let Eden pass him, then glanced back at the two people in the icehouse before he shut the door, leaving them in the dark.
Eden walked through the night, trying not to trip on anything. She had an idea that if she fell, the man would shoot her. In fact, she couldn’t see why he hadn’t just stolen the paintings in the first place.
Far ahead of them, behind the house, she saw the outline of a car. His? Or did it belong to the FBI? She glanced back at the man, and he motioned for her to go toward the car. She took another step, then tripped over something and fell to the ground. She braced herself, expecting death.
The man behind her pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and flicked it on. Eden had to work to keep from screaming. Lying on the ground, his nose inches from hers, was a man whose dead eyes were staring into hers. She put her hand in her mouth and bit her knuckles to keep from screaming.
“He a friend of yours?” the man asked, humor in his voice.
“I—” Eden began, trying hard to keep herself together. The man behind her shone his light on the dead body.
“I asked if you know him,” the man said, this time with no humor in his voice.
“He’s—” She went to her knees to try to get up. She thought that perhaps she had been hurt when she fell down the steps in front of the house, and she knew that there were thorns in her body from when Jared—She blinked to keep from remembering him. He couldn’t be dead, could he?
“He worked for Brad,” she said when she was standing. When the man looked puzzled, she said, “Brad is the man you shot in the leg.”
“Oh, him. I’m too nice. Anybody else would have killed him.”
Eden gave him a weak smile that seemed to please him. He motioned for her to step over the body and go to the waiting car. Eden put her head up and tried not to think about what she was doing as she stepped over the legs of Drake Haughton, the young man who was Brad’s architect for Queen Anne. She remembered what Brad had said in the car about the man who was demanding the necklace wanting to go somewhere to paint. Had Drake been a frustrated artist? Had he been the one to paint the watercolors that Tess Brewster had sent to the frame shop?
“I tell you,” the man behind her said, “I don’t know what the world’s comin’ to. With just plain, ordinary people kidnappin’ and robbin’ their friends, what’s left for us professionals to do?”
“You’re a professional criminal?” Eden asked, sounding as though she was asking him if he was a plumber.
“Yeah. Been one for years now. Most of my life, really.”
“Do you enjoy your work?”
“Was that one of them veiled things?”
At first Eden didn’t know what he meant. “A veiled insult? No. I was just curious. How did you find out about the paintings?”
“Applegate. Or whatever he called hisself. Did you know he was a spy? I might have to kill a few people now and then, but I’d never betray my country. But he did.”
“Was the U.S. his country?”
“I don’t know. Hey! Whose side are you on?”
“My daughter’s,” Eden said quickly. “Did you kill Mr. Applegate?”
“Yeah. But he didn’t do nothin’ for my country. He played the ponies and owed my boss a lot. He sold some info and paid some debts, but he’d just rack ’em up again. When my boss got sick of him, I went to see him. He said he knew where millions of dollars in paintin’s were.”
“I see,” Eden said, looking ahead toward the car. She was walking very slowly, but the man didn’t seem to mind. She had an idea that he thought it was a nice night for a stroll. “How did he find out about the paintings?”
“He said he figured out a riddle. That’s what he told my boss. Applegate said he was good at solving riddles and he figured out the one in some book. You read that book?”
“I think perhaps I wrote it,” Eden said softly.
“Not the smartest thing you ever done, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t.” She didn’t add that she’d had no idea the riddle had anything to do with millions of dollars’ worth of paintings. “He told you where the paintings were, but you killed him anyway.”
“That’s what I was told to do,” the man said, shrugging. “But I made him eat the paper he wrote down your name on. I thought that would get rid of it. Who knew they’d find it inside him? It’s amazin’ what they can do nowadays.”
Eden was beginning to understand. A man with an addiction to gambling had for years paid off his debts by selling government secrets. But when the debts overwhelmed him, he’d been ordered killed. He’d tried to save his life by telling what he’d figured out about a riddle in a book that had yet to be published. But it hadn’t worked. He’d been made to eat what he’d written down, then was killed.
“I guess your boss was interested in the riddle,” Eden said, walking even more slowly, trying to give Melissa and Brad time to get away.
“Yeah,” the man said. “Real interested. But by the time we got here, the FBI was already here—and some man was stayin’ in your old house and paintin’ ever’ night. It was Grand Central Station in here. I had to get rid of the agent, and I had to ask that man what he wanted.”
“Drake.”
“Yeah, the necklace guy. When I found out that he was crazy and didn’t know nothin’ I let him go.”
“Crazy?” Eden asked. The car was close now.
“Yeah. Said he was plannin’ to be a great painter. I thought his stuff was good, but not great. I used to watch him paint while I was waitin’ for you to show up. The FBI took a long time to get you here.”
“I was important?” she whispered. “You could have taken the paintings at any time.”
“Naw. Boss said it had to be legal or he’d get only about twenty percent of their worth. He wanted you to show up so you could sell ’em to him, but, I tell you, it wasn’t easy. You got more men around you than a pop star.”
“But you killed them off. What about the men who ransacked my house?”
“To make you want to leave. You would be gone too, except for that FBI guy.”
“And the snakes?” she asked softly.
The man’s eyes brightened. “That was my idea. McBride and I go way back. I was supposed to keep you alive, but I knew he’d take care of you, so to speak, so I could afford to give him a little trouble. Payback for all the trouble he’s given me over the years.”
Eden started to ask about Jared but couldn’t bring herself to do it. “You told Drake that we’d found the necklace.”
“Yeah. I was watchin’ and listenin’. Seein’ as it was his paintin’s that led you to the necklace, he thought it should be his. He said it was his chance to prove his talent to the world. I helped him arrange the kidnappin’.”
“Who did my daughter meet at the airport?”
“Don’t know. Ugly little creep. He ran off as soon as I showed up.”
“So what happens now?”
“You’re gonna sell me the paintin’s,” he said. “I got papers for you to sign. You don’t like ’em, so you’re gonna sell ’em to me. And after I buy ’em I’m gonna find out, by accident like, that they have other paintin’s underneath ’em. All done legal-like and all sold on the open market. No tryin’ to find secret buyers for ’em. My boss wants all this to be legal.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask who his boss was, but she thought better of it.
“’Course the funny part is that if you tell anybody what happened tonight, I’ll come back and do whatever I have to.”
“Yes, I understand,” Eden said quietly. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a shadow move. Was someone there? Had someone survived this man’s slaughter? “I assume that you’re getting a good cut for doing this. If it’s to be your name on the papers, legally, y
ou will own them.”
“Are you tryin’ to turn me against my boss? He won’t like that.”
“No, Mr.—”
“Jolly. Ever’body calls me Jolly. Counta I don’t laugh a lot. But the name ain’t fair ’cause I got a good sense of humor. It’s just that it don’t match anybody else’s.”
When he said the name, Eden froze in place. She’d heard his name when she’d been locked in the cellar, but she hadn’t told Jared. If she had, maybe—
She stopped her thoughts because she heard a shot in the direction they had come from. In Melissa’s direction. She turned, and so did the man. It ran through her head that she should use his turned back to try to escape, but she didn’t. He might take his anger out on Melissa.
“You stay right there,” Jolly ordered. “If you don’t I’ll—”
“I know,” she murmured, then watched him retreat into the dark woods.
In the next second she was on her back, tackled from the side by a heavy body and flattened to the ground. On top of her was Jared McBride.
“Please tell me you weren’t going to just stand there and wait for him to come back and kill you.”
“I can’t breathe! I thought you were dead.” There was relief in her voice.
“You can mourn me later.” He rolled off of her, stood up, then pulled her up with him. “Stay low,” he whispered, “and stay close to me. Jolly has two other goons with him.”
“What about Melissa?” Eden said into his back as she did her best to keep up with him.
“I don’t know. I’m the only one here.”
“Remi is here,” she said.
Halting, Jared looked at her. “That big Cajun is here?”
“Somewhere. I saw him hiding under the porch of the house.”
Jared shook his head in disbelief. “Why didn’t we just send out invitations? It was bad enough having to act like we didn’t know what you and Granville were up to. I had to fish pieces of a note out of the toilet pipe.” He made a noise of exasperation. “Stay with me and keep quiet. Can you use a gun?”
“Never shot one in my life.”
“That’s a help. Get down!” He put his hand over the top of her head and pushed her down into a circle of tree trunks. They could hear male voices near them, but the voices didn’t seem upset, so maybe they hadn’t found out that Eden was missing. She was the only one who could sign the papers, so they needed her.
“Hands up!” came a voice near them. “Drop your weapons! Do it or we’ll shoot.”
“Who the hell is that?” Jared said under his breath. “And who is he talking to?”
Eden thought she was going to be sick. She recognized the voice. “He’s my son-in-law,” she said. “Stuart.”
Jared leaned back against the tree trunk, then with a grunt of pain, turned his back to Eden. “Could you…?” She knew what he meant. There were still pyracantha thorns in his back, as there were in hers. While he reloaded two guns, she ran her hands over his back and pulled out all the thorns she could find.
“Thanks, honey,” he said, making a joke. “Wish me luck,” he said as he started to leave their dark little nest.
But Eden caught his head in her hands and kissed him hard. “Save everyone,” she whispered, “including yourself.”
He removed the pistol from his ankle holster and handed it to her. “Aim and point.” He kissed her again, then he was gone into the night.
Chapter Twenty-five
EDEN waited as long as she could stand to. She heard no sounds, not even animals. Nothing slithered or scurried. After what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes, she heard the sound of a car being started. Whose car? she wondered. And where was it going?
And what about Stuart? Who had he been telling to drop his gun? The scary Mr. Jolly?
As quietly as she could, Eden left the relative safety of the trees and made her way back to the icehouse. Silently, she went inside. It was dark, so she had to feel her way around. She nearly slipped on a puddle of blood from Brad’s leg, but no one was in the icehouse.
She went outside and stood still, listening, but she heard nothing. She took two steps and tripped over a body. Cautiously, wishing she had a light, she bent down to the body. When it groaned, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the gun Jared had given her. She’d heard of safety catches. Was there one on this gun? If there was, was it on or off?
The person on the ground groaned again, and she recognized the voice. “Stuart? It’s me, Eden.” She put the gun back in her pocket and bent down to her son-in-law. “Are you all right?”
“My head hurts. Someone hit me. Where’s Missy?”
“Melissa is—” Eden said pointedly, then made herself stop. She’d always hated that nickname. “I don’t know where anyone is or what they’re doing. I heard you tell a man to stick his hands up. Who was he?”
“I don’t know. He’d been shot in the leg.”
“Oh,” Eden said flatly. “That was Brad. I was hoping—”
“That I’d rescue everyone and be a hero?” Stuart asked sarcastically. “Wouldn’t that foil your plans of getting my wife and child to leave me and live with you?”
“I don’t want them to live with me,” Eden said as she took his arm and pulled him upright.
“That’s what you’ve always wanted. You’ve done everything you can to make Missy think that I’m incompetent and that I can’t support my own family. You’ve—”
“Stuart, do you think it’s possible that you could tell me what’s wrong with me after everyone’s life is safe? What happened to Brad? Where is Melissa?”
“I don’t know. I flew from New York to Raleigh, then drove a rental car to Arundel. My intention was to pick up my wife and take her home. You can imagine my surprise when I saw my mother-in-law inside a car beside some strange man at eleven o’clock at night. I did the natural thing and followed her—you. When I saw you turn into a dirt road, I parked just off the highway and walked in. I saw the light and got here just in time to see…”
“See what?” she asked gently.
“See that man get shot in the head. Who was he?”
“Drake Haughton. He worked for Brad, the man who was shot in the leg,” Eden said. “Stuart, I think we should go. I have a feeling that everyone has gone back to my house and they’re waiting for me.”
“For you?” Stuart asked, and Eden couldn’t help grimacing. Stuart made it sound as though he couldn’t believe anyone would want her.
“Stuart,” she said, her teeth together and her hands made into fists. “Yes, my daughter does want to leave you, and, yes, she wants her and the baby to live with me. As you know, I have a lot of influence over my daughter, so it’s up to me what she does with her future. If you don’t cut out your snide, catty, jealous remarks, so help me I will do everything in my power to get her to leave you. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “What do you want me to do?”
“Can you drive a car?”
She could tell that he was fighting back a sarcastic remark, but all he said was “Yes.”
“Then follow me. We’re going to get Brad’s car and go back to Farrington Manor.”
Eden nearly ran through the woods, listening to the sounds, but she heard nothing that made her think that people were hiding nearby. What had happened? Where was Melissa? she thought, and her entire body started to shake, but she got it under control. Where were Jared and Brad? Remi?
Eden pulled the key Brad had given her from inside her pocket and handed it to Stuart. As soon as he started the car, she climbed into the backseat. She was going to search for the weapons that Brad had told her were hidden in the car.
“What are you looking for?” Stuart asked as he turned the car around and headed for the highway.
“Guns. Knives. Explosives. Whatever I can find,” Eden said. Her head was hanging over the backseat as she searched the floor. She found a pistol taped under the driver’s seat. There was a rifle under the overh
ang of the backseat.
“I think I’m lying on one,” came a voice from the back.
Stuart slammed on the brakes so hard that Eden’s face hit the back of the seat. She felt blood begin to run from her nose.
In a second, Stuart had jumped out of the car and run to the back, where he threw open the big back door. Eden, dripping blood, hung over the seat. Her daughter, her beautiful daughter, was lying on her side, curled up in the back of the Jeep.
Eden reached for her daughter, but Stuart beat her to Melissa. He pulled his wife from the car and was kissing her face all over.
“I was crazy with worry,” Stuart was saying between kisses. “Don’t you know that I wouldn’t have a life without you? You’re my very breath. You’re everything to me.”
“I thought you didn’t care about me anymore,” Melissa was saying, crying and kissing Stuart back.
Eden turned away from them and sat down in the backseat. There was a box of tissues on the floor, and she pressed a handful to her bleeding nose. In her lap was a pistol, a rifle across her legs. Did every mother have this moment? she thought. This moment when she realized that she’d lost her child?
“I think we better go,” she said softly, but no one heard her. She was tempted to climb over the seat and drive away. If she was sure Melissa—and, okay, Stuart—would be safe, she’d do it. But Eden didn’t know who or what was still outside.
“Let’s go!” she said, louder, making them hear her. Holding hands, not wanting to separate, Stuart and Melissa sat side by side in the backseat and Eden drove back to Arundel. When she stopped the car in front of the sheriff’s house it didn’t take much persuasion to get them to get out.
“Mother,” Melissa said. “I don’t think you should go back there. I think you should stay with us and talk to the sheriff.”
Eden didn’t bother to explain her motives, but she knew that by the time she waited for the sheriff to get out of bed, have a couple of cups of coffee to wake himself up, then take forty-five minutes or so to understand what Eden was saying, there’d probably be half a dozen more people dead. She had an idea that Mr. Jolly was waiting for her to return to the house to sign the papers before he left. And he’s welcome to the paintings, Eden thought as she sped away, leaving her daughter and son-in-law standing on the sidewalk.