Her Holiday Protector
Lenora Worth
THE WRONG TARGETWhile investigating a murder at Rikki Allen's house, detective Blain Kent realizes the victim looks a lot like Rikki. Could the secretive widow have been the target? He wants answers, but Rikki is unusually cagey. When the killer comes after Rikki at a safe location, Blain finally gets the truth out of her: she's the daughter of Franco Alvanetti—the notorious crime kingpin. A by-the-book former marine, Blain has made it his life mission to put the Alvanetti family out of business. Yet he has to trust Rikki to protect her from a killer who wants her dead by Christmas.Men of Millbrook Lake: Four men find love and family
THE WRONG TARGET
While investigating a murder at Rikki Allen’s house, detective Blain Kent realizes the victim looks a lot like Rikki. Could the secretive widow have been the target? He wants answers, but Rikki is unusually cagey. When the killer comes after Rikki at a safe location, Blain finally gets the truth out of her: she’s the daughter of Franco Alvanetti—the notorious crime kingpin. A by-the-book former marine, Blain has made it his life mission to put the Alvanetti family out of business. Yet he has to trust Rikki to protect her from a killer who wants her dead by Christmas.
Men of Millbrook Lake: Four men find love and family
Blain would find out everything about her.
But right now he wanted to get Rikki out of here. They were too exposed at this location.
She finally nodded. “I need to get my things.”
After he escorted her to her room, he put her in his car and turned to stare at her. “Where to, princess?”
She swallowed, dropped her head and stared at her hands in her lap. “The Bay Road.”
Bay Road? Blain whistled. Real estate out there was way over his pay scale. “Okay, then.”
Pricey estates out there. A scenic highway surrounding where the big bay met up with Millbrook River and the lake.
When they were under way and out past the city, he turned off and followed the dark water. “What’s the address?”
She finally looked over at him, a defiance in her voice. “2200 First Bay Lane.”
Blain blinked, thinking he hadn’t heard right. “Hey, that’s—”
“The Alvanetti estate,” she finished for him. “Sonia Alvanetti is my mother.”
“And…Franco Alvanetti is your father.”
“Yes.” She nodded and looked out the window.
And suddenly Blain understood so much more about what was going on with Rikki Allen. No wonder she’d been so closemouthed and evasive. No wonder he couldn’t trust her.
She was an Alvanetti.
LENORA WORTH writes award-winning romance and romantic suspense. Three of her books finaled in the ACFW Carol Awards, and her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence became a New York Times bestseller. Her novella in Mistletoe Kisses made her a USA TODAY bestselling author. With sixty books published and millions in print, she goes on adventures with her retired husband, Don, and enjoys reading, baking and shopping…especially shoe shopping.
Her Holiday
Protector
Lenora Worth
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
But let justice roll on like a river,
righteousness like a never-failing stream!
—Amos 5:24
To Winnie Griggs, Beth Cornelison and Renee Ryan
With gratitude for a wonderful retreat during a storm
Contents
Cover (#u1c6b56c9-6ed2-5368-b964-5a4f0b9a1092)
Back Cover Text (#ue193843e-8e3e-560c-8bd2-924f2b3987ce)
Introduction (#u6dba0bba-f460-5a95-8d80-3bd91ab72970)
About the Author (#u950dc6ff-3a21-5610-b9d9-a9e62da873a5)
Title Page (#ue8e24da2-5ea1-5a6b-a94a-8a98cb303b00)
Bible Verse (#u4a919858-1df4-5e23-b346-adaa350b6c17)
Dedication (#u6c11a947-4d2c-5a7d-b4b5-f96f29f74928)
ONE (#u9485b970-d496-5ce6-9446-186f8780af2c)
TWO (#u532c6bf6-70af-5465-9ff1-ed02da398793)
THREE (#u2f02c9c9-8978-5966-96f4-ea83e8915ec4)
FOUR (#uefd0e8da-d55b-5e3f-92f4-2ebb7cdd7109)
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Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
ONE (#ulink_64c7e371-1de5-53c4-ab61-3a8b797ee296)
The sickle moon dipped down in the dark sky, reaching toward the gray surface of Millbrook Lake like a slinky hand trying to touch the water. The nip of winter covered the dusk in a crisp, fresh-smelling blanket of evening dew.
Blain Kent inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and hit his stride on the path around the big oval lake, the cadence of his nightly run echoing behind him. All around him, the quaint turn-of-the-century houses shone with pretty white lights and fresh evergreen wreaths tied up with bright red bows.
Christmas had come to Northwest Florida. But tonight, Blain had to work off that big Thanksgiving meal he’d enjoyed at his parents’ house two days ago. He also needed to work off his retired law enforcement father’s always critical comments. Blain might have followed in his father’s footsteps by returning from combat to take a job with the Millbrook Police Department, but that was where the similarities ended.
Serving for over twenty-five years in the sheriff’s department and finally becoming the county sheriff, Sam Kent had tried to keep the peace by pandering to the local elite and turning a blind eye on the powerful Alvanetti crime family that tried to run the entire state of Florida. Alleged crime family since no one could ever pin anything illegal on Franco Alvanetti.
While Blain tried to do an honest day’s work and solve crimes by the book, it irritated him to no end that he couldn’t find a single piece of incriminating evidence on the Alvanetti clan. So Blain and his still-influential father had a difference of opinion on which way worked best. Blain didn’t pander to anyone.
Blain rounded a corner, his thoughts centered on the harsh words he and his father had slung at each other while Mom was in the kitchen dishing up pumpkin pie.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself or anyone else around here,” Dad had said in his deep, disapproving voice. “You have to make it work, son. Don’t make waves. Just keep the peace.”
“I want it to work, Dad. For everyone, not just the rich people who live around the lake and out on the canal.”
Blain approached that canal now, out of habit his cop’s gaze taking in his surroundings. He wouldn’t let that conversation with his father ruin his good mood. Not tonight, with that moon hanging over the lake and the whole world alive with the promise of something true and honest around the bend. Christmas was coming. All would be right with the world.
And then he heard a gunshot followed a few seconds later by a woman’s scream.
Blain’s radar went into overdrive. He glanced up and down the narrow part of the lake that met up with the Millbrook River. On both sides of the canal, town houses and apartment buildings lined the way. Blain stopped, listening, his gaze sweeping the left side of the river, where the footpath turned into a boardwalk along the row of houses. Footbridges connected both sides, most high enough for large boats to pass underneath.
Where had the gunshot and scream come from?
Maybe a car had backfired but he knew a gunshot when he heard one and the scream had definitely been real. He heard footfalls coming toward him. Blain wasn’t carrying his weapon, but he waited, anyway. He knew how to defend himself.
A small figure came running up the boardwalk. As the silhouette came nearer, he grew even more concerned.
A woman. She sprinted toward him, her long dark hair flying out behind her like a lacy shawl. She kept glancing back as if she were running away from someone.
“Ma’am, are you hurt?”
She came to a surprised stop and drew to a halt a few feet away from him, fear radiating off her body.
“I...I need help,” she said on a shaky voice, her breathing shallow. “Someone was inside my house when I got home and...I think they shot my friend.”
“I’m a police officer,” he said to calm her. “Stay there. I’ll walk toward you.”
She searched behind her and then turned back, her expression full of fear and doubt. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Blain tugged his badge out of the inside pocket of his hoodie and held it up so she could see it in the street light’s glow. “See? Millbrook Police Department.”
When the woman frowned and backed away, he said, “Just relax. I won’t hurt you. Have you called 911?”
“No. I just got out of there,” she said again, glancing back behind her. “I need...your help. Someone was in my house. I heard them, saw them in my backyard.”
“Okay, I’m here.” He walked closer, his badge in one hand and the other hand out so she could see it. “What happened to you?”
“It’s not me,” she said, her dark eyes flashing. “It’s my friend Tessa.” She pointed, flinging her arm back behind her. “I...I think she’s dead. I mean, I know she’s dead. I found her there after I heard a gunshot outside my back door. I...I ran out and saw a man running away.”
Blain’s instincts kicked in. A murder in Millbrook. That was something he rarely had to deal with. “Show me. Can you take me to your place? I can check on your friend and check your house. And we’ll call for backup, too.”
The woman nodded, pushed at her hair, her dark eyes going black. “Yes. She’s...she’s at my town house. Up there.”
She motioned toward the end of the long canal to a prime spot of real estate on the corner. Nice for sunsets and enjoying the channel that opened up into the lake and river.
Blain clipped his badge on the outside pocket of his hoodie. “Okay, show me where you found the woman and let me check your house.”
She waited, her hands fisted against a trim dark jacket. Blain came up beside her. “I’m Detective Blain Kent.”
She didn’t acknowledge that introduction but she did uncurl her fingers. Blain took the seconds ticking by to notice her hands and her face. No sign of a struggle and no visible wounds or any sign of blood. But she looked shocked and dazed. “What’s your name?”
“Rikki.”
Okay, Rikki who obviously didn’t want to give out too much information right now.
He followed her between the narrow, two-storied houses, each one similar to the next except they were painted in various colors of pastel blues and yellows, mixed in with vivid whites. This new, swank development had the same Victorian flair as the turn-of-the-century homes along the lake. And came with a high price tag to match.
“I live here,” she said, hurrying now as they approached a muted yellow townhome. “She’s out on the patio.”
She went through an open ornate gate decorated with a bright red-and-green wreath, but she stopped and took Blain’s hand when he came up behind her.
A charge of awareness rushed up his arm, like a river wake rippling against the shore. Blain held to her, thinking how tiny her hand felt against his. He didn’t argue or pull away.
She might bolt if he made a wrong move.
“There,” she said with a gulp. “She comes to stay with me sometimes on weekends. I heard the shot when I came in the house and found her when I saw the back door open.”
Blain took in the scene. A cedar wooden table overturned, a matching chair flipped over, its striped cushions lying against the brick surface of the spacious patio. He glanced from those items to the woman lying on her stomach against the redbrick, blood pooling all around her. Blain made his way to the woman, careful not to disturb anything. He knelt and checked her neck for a pulse.
None. Dead.
He stood and pulled out his phone.
“Is she...is she dead?”
He nodded to the obvious. “Yes. I have to call it in and I need to check inside.”
“I’m going with you,” the woman said, averting her gaze from the dead woman. “I...I heard someone and then I heard the gun go off. He shot her.”
“Did you see him shoot her?”
“No. I came home and walked through the house. Then I heard the gunshot. He ran away when I screamed.”
She was in shock, no doubt about that. “I need you to wait out here, okay? You can sit on the porch.”
She nodded and allowed him to guide her to the small covered area where a white wrought-iron bistro set was hidden by a thick jasmine vine.
“I’m calling for backup and then I’ll check the scene. Don’t move from this spot.”
“Okay.” She leaned her elbows on the table and hung her head in her hands. “Hurry, please.”
Blain went inside, all the while on the phone with dispatch. Nothing downstairs. Just a couple of open drawers and cabinets. He silently made his way upstairs where he found two bedrooms. Pretty much the same. A closet open and ransacked and some jewelry scattered on a dresser in what looked like the master bedroom. A purse dumped in the guest room.
After clearing the place, he came back outside. “I didn’t find anyone else inside,” he said to the woman.
He studied the scene while he explained things to the dispatcher. The woman had been shot in the back. Running away? Then he noticed where her right hand lay out from her body. The blood spatter there looked smeared with a pattern that looked like some sort of letter—a K with a line next to it. Interesting. He took a picture with his cell phone.
When he heard a soft moan, he turned to find Rikki standing by the porch railing, her gaze caught on the dead woman.
She pivoted, a hand to her mouth. He could see her shoulders moving. He heard soft sobs. While he explained his location and the situation, he also noticed something else about the woman lying there on the cold brick.
She looked a lot like the woman standing there sobbing.
* * *
Rikki sat in a chair in the den while several police officers moved all around her. The Millbrook Police Department wasn’t that big. Maybe three or four full-time officers and one very good-looking detective. She knew this because her family made it their business to keep up with the locals. But she’d been gone a few years and this new detective was different from the good ole boys she remembered.
He looked too intense and moody to bow down to anyone.
She took another gulp of air and closed her eyes to the scene she’d come home and found an hour ago. The house quiet, her cat gone, and the patio door open. Lights blinking away on the Christmas tree by the fireplace. Tessa? She’d called out, thinking her friend had gone out back, maybe had taken Pebble with her since the big, fluffy cat liked to lie across the patio floor bricks, warm from the setting sun. And then she’d looked up and heard a gun firing.
But when she’d hurried outside, the last rays of the sunset had shown with a bright clarity on Tessa lying there. Still. So still. Rikki had screamed and then she’d hurried to find her phone. But when she’d heard footsteps running away and saw a man in her yard, she’d bolted away. Ran like a coward, to what? Where had she been heading?
Away. She needed to get away. If anyone knew who she really was...
“Rikki?”
She whirled on her chair, her heartbeat drumming against her temples. “Yes?”
Blain Kent knelt in front of her, one hand on the arm of the high-backed floral chair, a notebook and ink pen in his other hand. “Is there anyone you can call? Can you stay someplace else tonight?”
Rikki wanted to laugh but she couldn’t muster up the strength. She did straighten in the chair, her gaze grabbing onto his face. If she weren’t so numb with fear and shock, she’d flirt with him. But she didn’t want to flirt. She wanted to go back and walk in the door and see Tessa standing in the kitchen, waiting for their night out on the town in Pensacola. Dinner and conversation and maybe a little flirting. Just a little.
“Rikki? Miss Allen?”
“I’ll be okay here.”
“It might not be safe.” He rocked back on his heels, his sweatpants stretching to accommodate his solid leg muscles. “Do you know of anyone who might want to harm Tessa Jones or you?”
“No.” She closed her eyes and prayed for strength. “I...I left Tallahassee to get away for a while. I just broke up with my boyfriend.”
The detective’s eyes lit up at that statement. “How bad was the breakup?”
“Bad enough. But he doesn’t know where I am.”
“Right.”
“Did you get a good look at the person?”
She tried to remember. “No. Just from behind. He had on dark clothes, like sweats and a cap. Tall. He was tall. With black running shoes.”
“Okay, that’s something to go on.”
“I left her lying there. I was so scared.”
He let that go but Rikki felt sure he’d ask her more on that subject later. Could Chad have done this? Was he that vicious, that cruel?
“Tell me more about Tessa Jones,” the detective said.
Rikki swallowed the heaviness in her throat. “Tessa grew up in Georgia but she lives in Tallahassee. We went to college together.”
“We’ll be investigating her background but if you can think of anything that might help us, tell me now.”
His words had gone into what sounded like a firm command. He’d probably investigate Rikki’s background, too. “Do you suspect me, Detective?”
His expression was as fluid and unreadable as a midnight ocean. “I’m just trying to put the pieces together.” He studied his notes. “It looks like she tried to write something. I can’t be sure, but...some of the blood pattern looks like the letter K with a line slashed through it.”
Rikki’s stomach roiled and almost revolted at that image. “I don’t know. She calls me KK sometimes. Her nickname for me.”
She lowered her head, hoping to stop the nausea.
“You need anything?”
She glanced up at his face, the five o’clock shadow making him look mysterious. “I’m fine.”
“So why was Tessa here alone?”
“We were meeting here for the weekend to catch up. I travel a lot so I don’t get up here very often.” She glanced around, wondering how she’d ever feel safe here again. “I have clients in the area. Orders coming in for art and furnishings. I was on my way home. She knew where to find the key.”
He studied her with an intense inky gaze that left her rattled. “So you’re here for work and to get away from Tallahassee and your ex-boyfriend.”
“Yes.”
“What’s his name?”
“Chad Presley.”
She looked out toward where the medical examiner was about to take away Tessa’s cold body. Should she tell him the truth? Should she admit the things that would cause him to suspect her of all kinds of crimes? Or should she sit here like a lump and pretend her life wasn’t falling apart?
“Miss Allen? You said you came here to get away from him?”
Rikki lifted her head, her gaze slamming into his. Did he already have her figured out? “Yes, and to take care of some clients in the area and mostly, for a visit with my mother.”
No, she’d covered all of her bases on that a long time ago. No one could figure her out. She should be safe.
But here she was, back in the one town she’d sworn she’d never return to again. For oh, so many reasons.
“Why did you need to get away from your ex?”
She didn’t want to talk about Chad. “We’ve been apart for a while but he’s having a hard time letting go. I just wanted some time away, to think about things.”
“So you came here. Not that far away.”
She bobbed her head. “My mother is sick,” she said, sincerity her only hope. “I came to visit her during the holidays. I don’t get back here too often.”
“And who’s your mother? Maybe you could go and stay with her?”
Rikki knew she’d said the wrong thing by the way he analyzed her with that deep blue-eyed stare.
She tried to fix it. “Can I just stay here? I’ll lock up.”
She didn’t really want to stay here but she couldn’t let him see how scared she felt right now. He already suspected her and...she couldn’t explain anything else to him. The detective would jump to the wrong conclusions.
He gave up and stood. Rikki stood up, too, relieved that he wasn’t so close to her anymore and that he seemed willing to let it go. For now.
But he didn’t let it go.
“I don’t think you should be alone right now, and you can’t stay here, anyway. This is a crime scene.”
“And I can’t stay here because you think I’m in shock or because I’m a suspect or because you think whoever did this will be back?”
“All of the above,” he said, not even blinking.
“I see.” She moved away from him, her arms in a protective stance across her midsection. If she told him the truth, he would take her in for questioning. That’s how things worked in her family. “I...I don’t want to upset my mother.”
“Then go to a hotel but as I said, this is a crime scene, so you can’t get back in here until we’ve cleared it.”
Rikki whirled to stare over at him and tried again. “I can’t stay in my own home?”
“Not tonight.”
His tone told her not to argue. “Okay, I’ll find somewhere else.” And she’d have to leave again. Soon. She’d go by to see her mother and then...she’d just go.
“Do you think your boyfriend followed you?”
“No.”
She’d found someone in her house and they’d gotten away after killing Tessa. Instincts told her this wasn’t Chad’s doings, no matter how much he’d threatened her.
“Do you know anyone here besides your mother?”
She did, but no one she could trust. “No. I’ve been away for a while and as I said, I don’t get back much.”
He jotted notes. “I could drive you somewhere.”
Rikki looked up at him to make sure he wasn’t trying to trip her up. Were detectives always this accommodating? “I have my car.”
She turned away, her mind on the horrible scene outside the window. And where was Pebble? Where was her cat that traveled with her?
She refused to think about that or the tough-guy detective giving her the third degree. He probably already had her license plate number. Probably had already run it through the system.
He wouldn’t find anything incriminating on Rikki Allen. But he could find a whole lot of information on Regina Alvanetti. Then he’d know she was the daughter of the infamous Franco Alvanetti.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, his tone telling her she didn’t have much choice in making that decision.
“I want to cooperate with you,” she said, resolve settling over her like the night chill. “But honestly, I’m not sure what to do next.”
TWO (#ulink_eda76936-894e-56b2-a0e3-8a59dc37b45a)
“I suggest you let me drive you somewhere safe.”
Rikki turned to stare at up Blain with dark-chocolate eyes. “And where in this town would that be right now, Detective?”
Surprised, he said, “Well, Millbrook is pretty tame, all things considered. Preferably, with someone you trust. But I guess anywhere you want to go as long as you let me get you there and make sure it looks safe.”
“I don’t see why that’s necessary.”
Something was so not right here. Blain hadn’t dealt with a murder case since returning to Millbrook after his stint as a marine MP. He’d worked hard serving his country and after doing recon work to track down some of the meanest humans on earth, he’d learned a thing or two about people. They tended to be evasive when they were trying hard to appear normal. Evasive and not so good at faking it.
This beautiful, frightened woman was definitely hiding something but he had to give her credit for staying fairly calm during this whole thing. Had she had a lot of practice?
He watched her pace, saw her glance out to where her friend had died. She was as nervous as her missing cat probably was right now, but she held it in check with a gritty silence. Natural, since she’d come home to find an intruder and her friend murdered. But why wasn’t she opening up to him? Especially about the ex-boyfriend. A case of domestic abuse?
And why didn’t this scene make any sense? A robbery? A random act? A revenge killing? What? And what was the victim trying to tell him? He had pictures of the whole scene and he’d study them later. Especially that possible letter K written in blood.
He tried a new tactic. “You know, you and the deceased look a lot alike.”
She whirled at that, long ribbons of dark hair curling around her face and shoulders. “People told us that all through college. Said we looked like sisters. Tessa is...was...a year younger than me. I never imagined she wouldn’t make it past twenty-eight.”
So that made Rikki Allen twenty-nine, obviously.
Just a few years younger than him. Blain cleared his head and got back on track. “Look, I’m the only detective in town and since I was first on the scene, this is my case to solve. The more you tell me, the quicker I can make that happen. We need to find the person who did this.”
She grabbed at her hair and let it spill back around her face. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve been back in Millbrook a couple of days. Tessa drove down today to spend the weekend with me. I was out running errands and checking on some of the homes I’m scheduled to furnish. When I got home, I called out her name and that’s when...when he shot her and then he ran.”
“What kind of errands? What kind of work?”
She gave him a look that should have been intimidating. It only made Blain more aware of her, in too many ways he shouldn’t be aware. “I’m an interior designer. I work all over the Gulf Coast and all through Florida, decorating homes and condos, but lately in Tampa and down in Miami. I have a few clients up here, too.”
“So you were with one of those clients?”
“I can provide a play-by-play of my afternoon, if you need me to, yes.”
She was well-trained in deflecting questions, Blain decided. “And what about your sick mother?”
“I visited her before I went on my errands.”
He wondered about the sick mother part, but Blain would get to the bottom of things, sooner or later. “Okay. So, I’ve got the timeline pretty much figured out. I’ll have to wait to hear from the ME to find out the exact time of death. We’ve checked all of the upstairs rooms and according to my report, you told my officers that nothing important or valuable had been taken. But it looks like you might have surprised the intruder during a possible robbery.”
He read over his notes again.
“But it could be that you returned home before the intruder could take anything valuable, which means we’ll continue to comb the entire area around your home and see if we find any signs of someone getting away. We’re questioning the neighbors and alerting the media, too. If there’s a killer on the loose, everyone needs to be alert.”
“I don’t want the media hanging around,” she blurted. Then she cast her gaze back toward the patio. “I...I need to absorb what just happened. Tessa never hurt anyone, never had an enemy. Everyone loved her.” She whirled back to him. “I don’t want the media to harass her family and friends.”
Interesting. Or maybe she didn’t want the media delving into her personal life?
He stopped and tried again. “We’ve collected as much evidence as we can find for now so we’ll take this up again first thing tomorrow, but there’s still the matter of you finding another place to stay tonight.”
She glared at him, sniffed back tears she seemed to be trying hard to ignore. “I’ll go to a hotel.”
“Okay, then,” Blain said. “Get an overnight bag together and while you’re up there in your bedroom, make sure you double-check everything. Things such as valuable jewelry that might be missing or maybe some cash you left in a purse.”
She nodded. “Did you check the guest room? Tessa’s room?”
Blain could tell she was slipping fast. She was going to crash soon so he needed to get her out of here. “Yes. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just your friend’s purse with the contents dumped on the bed and some clothes scattered around. Everything still intact.”
“Tessa is neat,” she said, her gaze slamming into his. “She would have put her clothes away. She’d never leave her purse that way.”
“Okay.” He wrote that down.
“We were going out tonight,” she said on a soft whisper. “Just for fun.”
Blain remembered fun. “I’m sorry you have to go through this,” he said on a low note. “Do you want me to come upstairs with you?”
“No,” she said. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
He watched her up the stairs and then turned to take in the opulent design of the big town house. Did she decorate this one? Probably. A big pot with a healthy palm tree branching out around it sat by the ceiling-to-floor windows. A white leather couch and matching chair graced the spacious den. A modern-looking fireplace decorated in gold-and-white ornaments and shiny green foliage slashed across one wall and a bookshelf heavy with art and design books and a few novels filled the other wall. A vivid tropical-themed painting hung over the fireplace and a tall Christmas tree covered in silver-and-gold ornaments and ribbons stood in the corner by the fireplace.
So she’d been back in town long enough to get this place all gussied up for the holidays. Or maybe she’d hired someone to do it and they’d liked what they saw enough to try and rob the place. Maybe they’d sneaked inside the house, not knowing the other woman was here? Rikki had come home and surprised them? But why shoot the other woman?
Because she’d seen the intruder?
Now he had even more questions.
* * *
Rikki dreaded going into her bedroom. Knowing that a killer had gone through her house made her feel violated and ill at ease. She couldn’t even look at the guest room where Tessa’s things were scattered on the bed so she hurried up the hall to her room. She could see sparkling Christmas lights across the canal on another home’s upper balcony. The lights were pretty but a chill rushed across her shoulders, making Rikki shake.
Tessa. Dead.
What a nightmare? Had she been wrong to come back here? No, she had to see her mother before it was too late. Before she had even more regrets to add to the long list already in her head.
And yes, she’d needed some time away from Chad Presley. Because Chad could never replace the one man she’d loved and lost, and once he’d realized that, he’d turned nasty.
But she wouldn’t blame Chad. It wasn’t his fault that she couldn’t love him. Or that she’d never get over losing Drake.
Drake. Her sweet, young husband, Drake Allen.
We were so naive. So in love.
She missed him every day of her life but missing and wishing wouldn’t bring him back. Rikki went about grabbing clothes and gathering the essentials, her mind so numb with shock she could barely walk.
She’d lost Drake years ago. And now she’d lost Tessa. And both had died violently. She’d never get beyond the shadow of her family’s questionable legacy.
Staring at her pale reflection in the bathroom mirror, Rikki wondered how she’d ever be able to open her heart to anyone again. It was all too much.
Being back in Millbrook was too much.
And once her family heard about this, her nightmare would continue. Unless she left again. She could do that. Just run away and start over in another place all together.
You should tell Detective Kent the truth.
Maybe she should do that, level with him and get it all over with. But she didn’t really know where to start. She didn’t think Chad had it in him to follow her here and kill Tessa. In spite of his veiled threats, he was too busy making more money for himself. He didn’t even know she’d left Tallahassee, anyway. Did he?
And her clients? While they all demanded discretion, none of them struck her as murderers. That left her powerful family. Could someone close to her actually want her dead?
No. Impossible. She’d been careful to stay out of trouble and to stay out of the limelight. None of this made sense. And like the detective, she wanted answers. Maybe they could work together on this if she leveled with him.
But right now, tonight, she didn’t have the energy for a long confession. The handsome detective would find out about her soon enough, anyway. And then, she probably would become a suspect.
* * *
Blain checked his watch again. And again, he walked around the downstairs rooms of the town house.
The kitchen and dining room were open to the den, all white and bright, with more green plants and vivid artwork. A set of open stairs decorated with garland crawled up the wall by the entryway. Swanky, as his mom would say.
An officer came in while Blain moved around the room once again, anything to help him figure out who’d been through here. They’d already dusted for prints and searched for hair and fabric fibers but Blain doubted they’d find either. The place looked as pristine as one of the ads in his mother’s many magazines. A professional job?
His gut burned toward that end but he still needed to pin her down on the ex-boyfriend. “What do you have, Wilson?” he asked the uniformed officer.
“Found some broken branches on the shrubbery near the back gate. The gate has a latch but no lock. Figure they left in a hurry headed that way once Miss Allen ran out screaming.” He pointed toward a thicket of woods that followed the far shore of the river. “Anybody could get lost in there, even this time of year. We don’t have a lot of bare trees in the winter around here.”
“I hear that,” Blain replied. A lot of pines and live oaks grew in that thicket. “Footprints? Shoe prints?”
“Yes, sir. Big ones. But only partials. A distinctive pattern, though.”
“Get pictures and measurements. Maybe a plaster form.”
“Already on it,” Wilson replied. “I think we’ve covered everything for now.”
“Okay. I’m waiting on Miss Allen,” Blain said. “We’re putting her in a hotel room for now. I’ll need a cruiser to give us a ride and a guard on her room tonight.”
The young officer nodded. “Night, Detective Kent.”
Blain nodded and then checked his watch. What was keeping Rikki Allen? He was about to go up and check on her when she came back down with a fancy leather overnight bag on one arm and a smaller shoulder bag on the other shoulder.
“There you are,” he said in what he hoped was a casual voice. Taking her overnight bag, he said, “I thought you might have bolted on me.”
She almost smiled. “I did consider it for about five minutes.” The intense expression on her exotic face showed she’d considered it a lot.
“Why would you want to run away, Miss Allen?”
“Call me Rikki,” she replied, not answering that question. “Now, can we get out of here?”
“Sure. I don’t have my vehicle here so I’ll have a patrol drop us at the hotel and I’ll also assign a patrol outside your hotel.”
“Did they break into Tessa’s car? It should be in the public parking area around the corner.”
“No. But we’ll go over both your vehicles to see if we find any odd prints or maybe some fiber or hair follicles.”
“What about you?” she asked, her head down. “How will you get back to your place?”
“I know my way home,” he said, thinking he’d come right back here and do some more checking on his own.
Blain followed her to the front door where an officer was waiting to place crime-scene tape across the entryway and all around the small porch. Some of the neighbors were standing out on the boardwalk, their expressions full of shock and questions.
An officer walked them to a waiting patrol car.
Blain shot a glance toward the woman and remembered the sporty little convertible parked in her garage. Neither the car nor the woman would ever be his in this lifetime. Out of his league. So he needed to focus on work and not the subject at hand, his gut burning for answers.
She got in and glanced back after Blain put her stuff in the trunk and slid in beside her in the backseat. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know why someone would rob me and...kill Tessa.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to call your mother?” Maybe if he kept pushing, she’d keep talking.
“No. It’s late and she’s not well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Who is your mother? I might know her.”
“I doubt it.”
Again, that nonresponse. “Okay.”
Then she sat up on the seat. “What about Pebble?”
“Excuse me?”
“My cat, Pebble. He’s missing.”
“We’ll put out some food for him and alert the neighbors.”
The neighbors who were checking out their windows right about now and texting their friends and standing along the boardwalk in clusters of fear. Yeah, they’d definitely check with those neighbors.
He wouldn’t push on that matter or the matter of her refusal to give him a straight answer, but he’d certainly do his own research later. So much for a slow holiday season.
He pulled out a business card when they approached the hotel she’d mentioned, one of the few low-budget hotels in town. At least this one was new and located near a busy intersection. No fancy condo-type accommodations around Millbrook. “Listen, if you need me for anything or if you remember anything, call me. No matter the time.”
“I will.”
Yeah, right.
He came around to help her out of the car but she already had her door open and herself out, tall boots and jean-clad legs first. He got the bag she’d packed out of the trunk. “I’ll walk you to the front desk and make sure you’re in a secure room.”
“Okay.”
Twenty minutes later, Blain was on his way to the station to file his report, his mind humming with the sure knowledge that Rikki Allen knew things she didn’t want him to know. He’d head back to her town house once he was done with his work and look for her cat.
But he intended to find out the truth.
And while he did that, he’d try to get the image of those chocolate eyes and that matching hair out of his head. Blain’s gut told him there was a lot more to Rikki Allen than she wanted anyone to know.
But he knew enough.
A beautiful, mysterious woman who’d broken up with her boyfriend and who’d obviously lived a life of privilege had interrupted an intruder in her home and had found her best friend dead. A best friend who resembled her. This case shouted hit man.
His job was to find out if someone wanted Rikki Allen dead. But he also wanted to figure out what she was trying so desperately to hide from the world.
THREE (#ulink_cd4321b2-9ad7-543b-ac2e-264fc7b1f607)
Rikki tried to sleep but being alone in a strange room didn’t help her to block out the image of Tessa, beautiful, sweet Tessa, lying there with blood all around her.
Tessa, who knew all of Rikki’s secrets. A good friend—her college roommate—who’d taken Rikki under her wing after Drake had died and made her feel as if she wasn’t going to lose her mind, after all.
Dear Lord, what happened to her? Help me understand. Help me to accept that she’s in heaven with You now.
Blain had told her they’d notify Tessa’s next of kin, but Tessa didn’t have anyone close here in America since her parents had both passed away over recent years. Her one brother lived somewhere in Europe and Rikki didn’t have any way to contact him. Tessa hadn’t talked about her older brother a lot.
No one to mourn her. Except me.
Rikki had two big brothers, one married and one divorced, depending on which brother and which day, and several nieces and nephews, and a whole slew of aunts and uncles. A network of people who loved her in spite of how she’d abandoned all of them.
Santo and his family lived here and he ran the business now. He’d be all over her about this. Victor was somewhere in Europe. He’d turned his back completely on the family but he didn’t mind using the family funds to party all over the world.
Rikki didn’t want any of the mighty Alvanetti money.
She’d stayed long enough to appease her father and to reassure her mother, and then she’d left a few weeks after Drake’s death. Forever, she’d thought. But she loved her mother and they’d kept in touch over the years. Sonia had always maintained that Drake’s wreck was a tragedy. That no one has caused it.
Even so, when she got reports of her mother being taken ill while on a cruise overseas this summer, Rikki had kept in constant touch. But Sonia had not improved, and had had a heart attack as well, so she knew she had to come back. The doctors had verified that the vibrant Sonia Alvanetti had several other health complications and an onset of dementia, but with bed rest and a better diet and several prescriptions, she could improve. Maybe.
In other words, her mother could snap out of this or she could die in a few years. She could be giving up because she missed her one son who had left for good and she missed her daughter who kept promising to come and see her. Rikki’s brother Victor didn’t care that their mother had taken ill in Europe and he didn’t care now. Rikki had come home to help her mother recover.
Rikki had been thinking of coming home since she’d noticed her mother didn’t remember things and constantly repeated herself. Sometimes, she’d talk about her husband, the powerful Franco Alvanetti, as if she hated him. Which surprised Rikki. Her parents had always been so in love with each other that they oftentimes managed to shut out the rest of the world. Or ignore it, at least.
The kind of in-love that Rikki had given up on.
Rikki wished now that she’d come back sooner. But then, tonight she wished a lot of things could have been different.
She missed Tessa already. If she’d come home a few minutes earlier, she might have been able to save her friend.
This, with her mother so sick and her ex-boyfriend harassing her. It was just too much. Chad Presley didn’t like being dumped. He’d threatened Rikki one time too many and he had powerful friends all over the state. But then, so did her father.
And using that angle had been her saving grace.
“If you don’t leave me alone, Chad, I’ll have to tell my father and my brothers. You won’t like it when they come after you.”
The bluff had worked long enough for her to regroup and come home. But maybe Chad wasn’t afraid of her family. She should have told the detective the whole story but fear had gripped her, choking her with an intense power. Fear that Chad would make good on his promises and fear that her family would get involved if he did.
A chill moved through her at the thought of Chad finding her here. Would he think to send someone to spy on her? Or had he followed through on one of his threats and found her himself?
Maybe he’d killed Tessa to prove a point. He’d stalked Rikki time and time again but things had never become physical. What if he’d thought he’d found her there on the patio? Chad could be the kind to shoot first and run away like a coward.
Please, no.
Rikki called the night nurse at her parents’ estate, just to hear someone’s voice and to check on her mom. “How’s she doing tonight, Peggy?”
“Sleeping, suga’. But you know Miss Sonia. She has the sweetest attitude.”
“Yes, that’s Mother. Always positive. Even when she’s in pain.”
“I’ve got her all tucked in and I’ll be right here on the sofa in her bedroom.”
“Thank you, Peggy.” Rikki swallowed the emotion roiling through her. “What about Papa?”
“He’s in his office. He stays in there, most days.”
Rikki closed her eyes to that image. Her dad was getting old, too. “I’ll try to check on him.”
“You gonna come by in the morning, honey?”
“I hope to.” Rikki didn’t want her mother to hear anything about what had happened, but Peggy kept the television off most of the time, anyway. She liked to read her romance novels while the surround sound played Mother’s favorite classical music and show tunes. A paradox of a combination but that was Sonia Alvanetti.
But her father always watched the local news. She’d have to explain this to him so he wouldn’t get involved. Of course, one of his bodyguards had probably already informed him of what had happened. His people kept their ears to the ground.
“Give her a kiss for me,” Rikki said. “I’ll be by bright and early tomorrow morning.” And she’d try to explain things to her mother. Of course, once her brothers got wind of this...
Rikki put that scene out of her mind. Her two brothers would hunt down anyone who tried to harm her. Even when they both disapproved of her every move.
“I’ll see you before you turn things over to the day nurse,” she promised Peggy.
“Okay, sweetie pie.” Peggy said good-night and Rikki went back to the dark silence of her room.
Thinking about the horror of seeing her best friend dead, Rikki closed her eyes but opened them wide again, the shadows of the spacious room chasing each other into dark corners. She checked the door. Locked and bolted. She looked at the heavy curtains. Closed tight. She listened for footsteps and remembered a cruiser was supposed to be parked outside her hotel room door. But each shift of the wind caused her to panic and recheck the locked door.
Then because she couldn’t sleep, she thought about Detective Blain Kent. Tall, dark and dangerous. But on the good side of the law. Well, that was different at least. The man knew his job, no doubt about that. He’d done his best to get information out of Rikki and she’d given him what he needed and kept the rest to herself.
While her heart hurt for her friend and she’d mourn that loss of the rest of her life, Rikki took comfort in knowing if anyone could figure this out Blain Kent would be the man. He struck her as the honest, determined type.
And what if he figures out who you are?
At this point, she didn’t really care if the detective with the midnight-blue eyes and clipped black hair found out she was an Alvanetti. She had been married once, to Drake Allen. A good, simple name and a good simple man. No, a boy, really. A boy who’d loved her in spite of her name. He’d been willing to fight for her and that had been a tragic mistake.
He’d died too young and her heart had not recovered.
He’d died at the hands of her family, something she could never prove. Something they’d denied. But she knew. Drake had been in a horrible accident not too far from the Alvanetti estate. A foggy night, a slick road. And alcohol. But Drake didn’t drink.
No one had wanted to hear her shouting that at the top of her lungs. No one cared enough to investigate. And she surely would never recover from that, either.
But once she’d been strong enough to come up with a plan, she’d walked away from her father’s rules as soon as she could escape. Walked away and tried to stay away. Except her beautiful, stubborn, scatterbrained mother always called her back. Sonia Alvanetti had a heart so big Rikki wondered how she’d become so frail. Had often wondered how her sweet mother could not see the truth regarding the family “import-export” business. Rikki had always believed her mother would live forever since Sonia loved everyone in such an unconditional way. She couldn’t imagine her mother not being there. Rikki had got her strong faith from her mother, thankfully.
That faith would get her through this long night.
Now Rikki had to wonder about what Blain Kent had pointed out to her earlier. She and Tessa did look a lot alike.
Which made Rikki wonder if her worst fears and the detective’s not-so-subtle hints were correct. Had that bullet been meant for her?
* * *
Blain’s phone buzzed a rude alert. He sat up in bed and watched his phone dancing across the nightstand. Then he jerked it to his ear. “Kent.”
“I...I need your help again.”
“Rikki?”
“Yes.”
She sounded muffled, scared.
Blain shot out of the bed and started grabbing clothes with one hand, the cell phone tucked between his ear and his collar bone. “What is it?”
“Someone came to my room.”
Blain’s pulse bumped into overdrive. “Are you still in the room?”
“No. I shouted that I was calling 911 and then I started screaming and banging on the walls. Then I called the front desk. The security guard apparently came out and scared away the intruder. I don’t know where the patrol officer is.”
Blain hopped on one foot trying to get his boots on. “Okay, where are you now?”
“In the lobby bathroom. I didn’t know who else to call.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes. Do not leave the hotel lobby area.”
“I won’t.”
“Stay on the phone with me,” Blain said. “I’m leaving right now.” He glanced around and saw Pebble the cat staring at him from the end of his bed. He’d found the cat by the back door of her place, meowing and scared. The mostly black-and-white long-haired calico did look like a pile of pebbles.
So now he had custody of a cat. He’d worry about Pebble later. He hurried out the door of his apartment and hoped Rikki Alvanetti would stay put until he could get to her.
She did as he asked and by the time Blain made it to the hotel, he’d gotten more information out of her. She’d been awake, unable to sleep, when she’d heard someone outside her door. Then the door handle had jiggled. She’d screamed out and threatened to call 911.
But she’d called him instead. Blain radioed in while he kept her on the phone. When he pulled up, two units were parked in the drive-through in front of the bright lobby. But he didn’t see the other cruiser or Rikki, either.
“I’m here,” he said into his cell. “Come out of the bathroom, Rikki.”
“Okay.”
He ended the call, furious that someone had tried to get to her in spite of their efforts. But this attack supported his suspicions. Someone was after Rikki Allen.
“Where’s our man?” he asked one of the uniformed officers as he slammed out of his unmarked sedan.
“He was knocked out in the bushes but on his way to the ER right now,” one of the patrolmen said. “He’ll be okay.”
The man they’d put on Rikki had gotten out of his patrol car to stretch his legs and chat with the pretty front-desk clerk. When he’d returned to his car, he’d been hit on the head and knocked out. Another officer had taken him to the hospital in his patrol car.
Sometimes, small-town police officers did things in a backward kind of way but Blain knew his fellow officers were all hardworking men. He was just glad everyone was okay.
Especially the woman emerging pale and sleep-tousled out of the bathroom. She looked at Blain and walked straight toward him, wearing a dark red zipped jacket and matching pants that his mother would call lounge wear.
He called it nice-looking wear right now but he kept his mind focused on the task and not the way that combo fit Rikki. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yes.” She glanced around, not looking so okay. “Did you find anyone out there?”
“Not yet. My men are searching every nook. We’ll double-check the area around your door, but I’m guessing whoever found you knew to wear gloves and not leave any clues.”
She nodded and pushed at all that tumbling hair. “Now we know, Detective.”
“Know what?” He didn’t like the gleam of acceptance in her eyes.
“That they were after me.”
“Yes, I believe you’re right on that,” Blain replied. “But they could have been after both of you.” At the look of horror on her face, he said, “Listen, you’re gonna have to tell me where your mother lives. You can’t stay here alone.”
“I can’t have them in her house, either.”
“But you’ll be with someone and...I’ll make sure no one bothers either of you.”
“And what are you, a one-man type of superhero?”
“No, but I think I can patrol a home and keep intruders out.”
“He’s a former marine, ma’am,” a passing officer said in a matter-of-fact tone. “He can take care of you.”
She quirked a dark eyebrow and took a calming breath. “A marine? So that should make me feel safe, I suppose.”
“One of the best,” the young patrolman said before Blain could reply. “An MP at that. Only, he don’t like to brag.”
Blain shook his head. “Look, I can watch over you tonight.”
She stared at him with a new regard, her dark gaze sweeping over him and making him squirm. “I don’t want to go to my mother’s house.”
Blain took her by the arm and tugged her off to the side where no one could hear him. “Your place isn’t safe. This hotel isn’t safe even though we had a uniformed patrol on site. I can’t take you to my place. Unless you have somewhere you can go that you can assure me is okay, then you’d better tell me the truth, Miss Allen. All of it. Or I’ll have to take you to the station and put you in a cell just to make sure you are safe until morning.”
“I don’t know the truth,” she said, her voice weakening. “I’ve told you everything I can.” Then she shook her head. “I keep thinking of Chad—my ex. But he couldn’t be this stupid. He’s threatened me but...I can’t believe he’d do this. He has too much at stake.”
Blain held his lips tightly together to keep from shouting at her. “And it never occurred to you to give me these details when you mentioned him earlier?”
“I didn’t think he’d find me at the town house. I never told him that my family—that I own it.”
“Well, maybe he followed you and...tried to kill you.” Blain pulled out his notebook. “What’s his address?”
She hesitated and then gave him Chad’s workplace and home addresses.
“And when did you last see Chad Presley?”
“About a week ago, down in Miami.”
Blain got a description of Chad and his vehicle and put out a BOLO over the radio that would go statewide. Be On the Lookout for a possible killer.
“There. We’ll see what that turns up. Does this Chad know where your mother lives?”
She thought about last spring when she’d brought him here for a wedding. That hadn’t gone over very well.
“He’s been here before but only once.”
“Okay, then, let’s go. Either you tell me where to take you or...you can spend the night in jail.”
“You can’t do that—force me into jail.”
“I can if it’s for your own good.”
He didn’t like playing bad cop with her, but the woman was too stubborn to see that someone was after her. And a nasty ex-boyfriend would be a prime suspect. Surely she wasn’t one of those women who kept forgiving over and over until it was too late.
Blain would find out everything about her before this was over, but right now he wanted to get her out of here. They were too exposed at this location now.
She finally nodded. “I need to get my things.”
After he escorted her to her room, he put her in his car and turned to stare at her. “Where to, princess?”
She swallowed, dropped her head and stared at her hands in her lap. “The Bay Road.”
Bay Road? Blain whistled. Real estate out there was way over his pay-scale. “Okay, then.”
Pricey estates out there. A scenic highway surrounding where the big bay met up with Millbrook Lake.
When they were underway and out past the city, he turned off and followed the dark water. “Which address?”
She finally looked over at him, a solid defiance in her voice. “2200 First Bay Lane.”
Blain blinked, thinking he hadn’t heard right. “Hey, that’s—”
“The Alvanetti estate,” she finished for him. “Sonia Alvanetti is my mother.”
Blain held tightly to the steering wheel as realization settled around him. “And...Franco Alvanetti is your father.”
“Yes.” She nodded and looked out the window.
And suddenly, Blain understood so much more about what was going on with Rikki Allen. No wonder she’d been so closemouthed and evasive. No wonder he couldn’t trust her.
She was an Alvanetti.
FOUR (#ulink_0950d6ec-6b4e-5864-aa66-0186b9e33b20)
Old Florida.
A wrought-iron gate swung open after Rikki gave him a security code to punch in on the big electronic switch pad.
Blain eased the unmarked police sedan along the winding lane and took in his surroundings as the first rays of the sun shone like a spotlight through the trees.
Swaying palm trees and palmetto bushes, massive live oaks dripping with Spanish moss. Scattered orange and lemon trees that would be lush with fruit come next summer. Winter-white camellias blooming on deeply rooted bushes. Wild magnolia trees shooting up through the oaks, their fat, waxy leaves hanging heavy and dark green along the winding garden paths on either side of the private gravel-and-shell-covered drive.
And what looked like a big white barn and stables surrounded by a white board fence off in the distance.
The wild abandonment of this tropical landscape didn’t fool Blain. This kind of exotic display spoke of money as old as the camellia bushes. Dirty money.
The sparkling sunrise brought the light of dawn peeking through the heavy foliage like a diamond hidden in the forest. And then, the stark stucco mansion came into view, all creamy planes and angles and glass against rich brown teakwood trim aged with a shimmering patina that shone in the early morning light.
Blain pulled the sedan up to the six-car garage and turned off the engine. Still in shock, he pivoted in his seat toward Rikki. “Why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t lie,” she said, her gaze slamming him with an unapologetic attitude. “I...I don’t associate with my family very much since I left. I only keep in touch with my mother.”
“You could have told me that.” He studied the house. “Or at least who your mother really is.”
“And you would have immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
She was correct there. He would have jumped to the only conclusion and it wasn’t a good one. “I want the truth,” he snapped. “Now I doubt I’ll ever get it from you.”
“I gave you the truth,” she retorted. “I told you everything I knew, even about my ex-boyfriend. I was so afraid he’d done this I couldn’t bring myself to mention him at first. But I should have. If it’s him, I have to get out of here.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t know. Could he be the one? I can’t let him get away with killing my best friend.”
Blain could see the fear and concern in her dark eyes. He understood how abused women could spin a situation to justify why they always returned but he couldn’t understand why she hadn’t leveled with him to begin with since her best friend had been murdered. There was no returning to that.
He’d have to think this one through but right now, he had to make sure Rikki was safe. Keeping her alive meant he had to deal with the entire situation, whether he liked it or not.
Blain lifted his hand in the air. “He can’t hurt anyone inside the gates to this compound. I saw the cameras and I spotted an armed guard with a dog, too.”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “If Chad shows up here, they’ll probably kill him and then I’ll have that death on my hands, too.”
Blain grabbed her wrist. “What do you mean, too? Do you think your family killed Tessa?”
“No.” She gave him an imploring stare. “I was married once when I was around twenty. His last name was Allen. Drake Allen. But he died six months after we eloped.”
Blain let that tidbit of information sink in. That explained the last name she used. “How did he die?”
“An accident.” Lowering her head, she added, “Up on the road.”
“But you think your family took care of him?”
“I didn’t say that.” She opened the door and got out of the car, her attitude like a solid wall against him. She might have cut all ties to her powerful family, but blood always ran thicker than water. She wouldn’t rat anybody out.
Blain got out of the car and came around to meet her, some of his justified anger simmering into a slow boil. She didn’t have to say what had happened to her husband. He could see it all over her face. “So you blame yourself?”
“Yes.” She whirled and opened the back car door to get her stuff. “But my mother is innocent. She thinks Drake died in a car crash and he did. I’ve never been able to prove otherwise.”
Shoving one of the bags at him, she said, “So if you insist on going inside with me, you’d better keep quiet about what I just told you. As far as I know, over the last few years, my father has changed. He’s not the same man he used to be. He’s legitimate now.”
“Yeah, because he’s turned things over to your brothers.”
“I can’t speak to that since I don’t keep up with them. One is here, running the business and the other one in Europe. I told you I walked away a long time ago. I only came here to get away from Chad for a while and to be with my mother.” She stared up at the massive glass doors of the house where two evergreen wreaths hung side by side. “It is Christmas, after all.”
Blain couldn’t force her to tell him everything. Not yet, anyway. But now that he knew who she really was, things had taken on a whole new meaning. “I’ll get you safely inside to see your mother, but I strongly suggest you stay here. Don’t go anywhere, understand? I have to do some digging on Chad Presley and I want to go back over the details of your friend’s death. That means I might be back to ask you some more questions.”
“I’ll be right here,” she said. “I do have a few clients to meet with this week but I can do video conferences for now and change those appointments to later.”
“Much later,” Blain retorted. “Like after we find out who killed Tessa.”
“Then you’d better get to it.” She hurried toward the portico door on the side of the big house near the garage. Turning, she gave him a conflicted stare. “I’m not like them, Blain. I got away and created my own life, on my own terms.”
Blain saw the defiant expression behind that sincere statement. Maybe he should cut her some slack. But he wouldn’t do her any favors. He refused to look the other way like his dad had done all those years. “I sure hope that’s true. I’ll have someone bring your car out here once I think it’s safe to move it. Remember, don’t go anywhere for the next few days.”
She nodded, one hand on the brass door handle. “Thank you.” Then she glanced around and back into his eyes. “I appreciate all your help.”
“Doing my job,” he said. Then he took his time scoping the entire place before he got in his car and left.
* * *
Rikki entered the side door that opened into the butler’s pantry leading to the massive gourmet kitchen where her mother used to cook and entertain on a weekly basis. Those days were few and far between now that her mother had gotten sick. Her parents were probably lonely, but no one wanted to acknowledge that. Nor did anyone want to admit that soon they wouldn’t be able to live here alone. They both had failing health these days, according to Peggy’s reports to Rikki.
The last big event held here had been Rikki’s cousin Beatrice’s wedding back in the spring. Rikki had come home for the wedding but she’d gotten here a few minutes before the ceremony and even though her mother had begged her to stay, she’d left about thirty minutes into the reception. She and Chad had been fighting. Again.
That had been the last time she’d seen her mother happy and laughing. Sonia had always loved having people in her home. Her mother had left that afternoon for a European vacation.
A few days later, Rikki had received a call that her mother had taken ill while on a Mediterranean cruise and was sent to a hospital in Italy where her brother Victor was staying at the time. Rikki had gone over to see her mother, but Victor had already left the hospital. He obviously was too busy to even sit with his mother.
Rikki had stayed there until her mother was able to make the flight home to Florida, where Franco had met her with a private ambulance and an equally private nurse.
Now Rikki took her time walking through the long, spacious kitchen with the dark cabinets and the white marble countertops. The kitchen opened to a big dining area and a spacious den, complete with a fire in the enormous fireplace and comfy leather sofas and chairs scattered all around. High, wide windows looked out over a prime spot where Millbrook Lake met up with the big bay that would take boaters all the way out to the Gulf.
Rikki glanced out at the sloping yard down to the lake where a boathouse and her father’s yacht—the Sonia—sat moored to the big private dock. The pool glistened in the early morning light, the sun hitting the water with a brilliant clarity that Rikki could only pray she had. When she heard footsteps shuffling up the long central hallway that led to her mother and father’s private suite in the back of the house, she whirled, expecting to see Peggy. The always-positive red-haired nurse had been with her mother since Sonia had come home a few months ago. But Peggy had worked for her family for as long as Rikki could remember, helping to raise children and take care of sick relatives.
Her mother adored Peggy and Peggy adored her mother.
But Peggy wasn’t standing there in the archway near the stairs to the second floor. Franco Alvanetti stopped to stare at his only daughter. “Well, I see you have arrived, at last.”
Rikki hated the tremble inside her heart. “Yes, Father. I got here yesterday but—”
“But you had to give the locals a report on the woman they found shot to death on your townhome patio.”
His bloodshot eyes moved over her with a steady gaze that left most people quaking. Rikki had long ago learned to stop the quaking but she had to take a few calming breaths to make it work today. “So you know.”
“Of course I know,” he said as he moved toward her in a stooped, aged gait. “I still have friends around this town.”
Her father wore a plaid robe over old silk pajamas. His slippers were Italian leather, worn in spots but still expensive-looking. Even in his night clothes with his salt-and-pepper hair scattered around his olive-skinned face, he still commanded a certain respect.
Rikki reluctantly gave him that respect. “I didn’t want to upset Mother.”
“She is sleeping. Peggy will be out soon to give the morning report.”
He glanced toward the kitchen. “Coffee, Regina?”
“Yes, Papa, but I’ll make it.”
“Good.” He waved a hand toward the industrial-sized coffee machine. “And then we can sit down and talk about this latest scandal in your life.”
Rikki went to the cabinet and found the coffee, steeling herself against one of Franco’s soft-spoken interrogations. They used to have several servants in the house but lately, it was just her parents and a maid who cleaned and cooked, along with a day nurse. Her parents didn’t require much in the way of food or drink. Peggy and the day nurse made sure they both had nutritious food to eat.
When had her parents become so frail?
Feeling guilty for not checking on them more, Rikki blinked away her tears and her fatigue. “Would you like some breakfast, Papa?”
Her father glanced up from where he’d perched on a bar stool in the way he’d done on countless mornings. “You know, I miss your mother’s cooking. She used to make the best omelets.”
Rikki closed her eyes, the smell of breakfast wafting out as if her mother were standing at the big stove cooking and laughing and talking about her plans for the day. Sonia always had her days planned out for months, down to the pumps and jewelry she’d wear that day.
“Of course, I’ll make you an omelet,” Rikki said. Once she had the coffee brewing, Rikki pulled out eggs, cream, cheese and vegetables.
“Throw in some bacon,” her father said.
When she nodded and glanced back at him, he had his head in his hands, his face down. His once-dark hair was salt-and-pepper now and his always-meaty hands were puffy with excess fluid. She’d noticed the deep bags underneath his eyes, too. Had he stopped taking care of himself?
Rikki turned back to her work, wishing she could say something to him but then she’d never understood her brooding, distant father. Only Sonia could bring out his jovial, loving side. Her mother shone like a star in all of their lives and Sonia’s strong faith held them all together.
“I’ll pray you through it,” her mother always said, no matter what they were dealing with. “God has blessed us in spite of it all. He’ll continue to bless us.”
I’ll pray you through it.
Maybe it was Rikki’s turn to pray them through the latest tragedy, to pray for Blain and the local police, to pray for Tessa’s brother who didn’t even know she was dead yet. And to pray for herself and her family, no matter what.
But right now, she’d cook for her father. For a few minutes, she could forget about her rift with this man, forget about her mother’s illness and her own failures in life, and maybe for just this little while, she could forget about Tessa’s vacant, lifeless eyes staring up at her from a pool of blood.
Maybe she could even forget about the way Blain Kent’s expression had changed when he’d realized who she really was, too. Because she knew the good-looking detective would hound her until he figured out what kind of trouble she’d brought back to Millbrook with her.
Rikki intended to find out the answer to that question herself, with or without Blain’s help.
Putting all of that aside, she flipped the omelet onto a plate and brought it over to her father with a steaming cup of black coffee. “Here you go, Papa.”
Franco Alvanetti looked up at her with misty eyes. “This is a good moment,” he said. “Too bad about your friend.”
Rikki couldn’t decide if her father was being sincere or not, but she felt that trembling in her heart again.
Was it raw emotion? Or was it a warning to be aware?
FIVE (#ulink_73828c07-3a7a-59b1-8e29-8582a31de2ad)
Blain sat at his desk in the back corner of the Millbrook Police Department, scrolling through some old news articles about the Alvanetti family. He’d read up on their philanthropic endeavors, their weddings, births, deaths and celebrations plus a few articles questioning certain tactics they used in their so-called import-export business located in a huge warehouse just outside of town.
But nothing much on their only daughter’s brief marriage to Drake Allen. Nothing much about his fatal car crash but the accident report told the tale. High rate of speed and alcohol.
End of report. Could it be possible that Rikki just needed someone to blame so her grief wouldn’t cut so deep?
“Kent, what’ve you got on the Tessa Jones case?”
Blain glanced up to find his chubby, mustached police chief, Raymond Ferrier, staring down at him like a curious bulldog. The chief trusted Blain but he was antsy about this high-profile murder, especially now that he knew it had happened at a place owned by an Alvanetti.
“Not much, sir.” That was true. He hadn’t found a whole lot on the Jones woman. “She lived in Tallahassee so I’ve got a couple of detectives there casing out friends and family. I had one of my contacts there who’s tracking down the boyfriend. He’s supposed to get back to me after he talks to the boyfriend and finds out where he was yesterday.”
“Not good, right here at the holidays,” the chief said. “I feel for Miss Alvanetti but I can’t have a bunch of nervous-Nellie citizens suggesting we call off the Christmas parade or cancel the cantata at Millbrook Lake Church because they think a killer is on the loose.”
“Not gonna let that happen, Chief,” Blain replied, wishing the chief would quit breathing down his neck so he could get back to work. “I’m researching articles right now, trying to put things together.” He shuffled through the report. “Besides, I don’t think anything can get in the way of the Christmas parade.”
Chief Ferrier shook his head, the red lines along his neck turning crimson. “Just keep at it. I sure don’t need Old Man Alvanetti demanding justice. We all know how that’ll turn out.”
“I’ll handle that,” Blain replied. The chief had never caved underneath the Alvanetti juggernaut but he wasn’t too thrilled to have to stand in the way of that juggernaut either. Up until now, things had been pretty quiet on that front. “I’m going back out to the house to question Regina Alvanetti later today.”
The chief scrubbed a hand down his always-a-day-behind-beard stubble. “Be careful about that. You know how things tend to go out at that place.”
“I’m always careful,” Blain said. And he wasn’t afraid of the Alvanetti clan. Rikki owed him and he intended to cash in on that debt. Plus, he had one furry, demanding cat to deliver.
Chief Ferrier grunted at that confident retort. “Careful is one thing, son. But being smart is important, too.”
After the chief went back to his office, Blain jotted a list of all the variables on this case. The victim resembled Regina—Rikki—Alvanetti. They’d been best friends. Rikki had a hostile ex-boyfriend named Chad Presley but he hadn’t been located yet. The Tallahassee authorities called to let Blain know they had talked to Tessa Jones’s boyfriend and his alibi was solid. That left Chad Presley.
Nothing of importance had been taken from the town house and there was no sign of forced entry. Blain decided this was looking more like a professional hit than a crime of passion.
Had Tessa known her murderer? What did the “K” written in blood mean? Was it an initial or had the poor woman just been grasping at the floor, trying to get up? He’d have to wait for the ballistics report and lab work to come back on the autopsy from the state lab in Tallahassee. But while he waited, Blain intended to keep plugging away, trying to find the truth.
He thought about Rikki Alvanetti. Lush and exotic, much in the same way as that imposing home and the dubious lifestyle she had tried so hard to deny. She had grown up privileged and entitled in a world that most plain folks only dreamed about.
That was about to change. Blain wouldn’t let her big brown eyes or her tragic demeanor fool him. He’d ignore the tickle of awareness her spice-scented perfume caused in his system and he’d certainly ignore those black boots she wore with such an easy, classy sway.
Blain could be tenacious when he was on a case and this one was a doozy. He’d already had calls from several television stations and most of the local and regional papers, all wanting to interview him regarding the Tessa Jones murder—and how it might be connected to the mighty Alvanetti family.
“No comment.”
He couldn’t talk about an active case. He’d let the people in the mayor’s PR department give out the talking points. He’d rather get out and beat the bushes to find out the truth.
He had to wonder if Rikki knew more than she was telling him. His trust meter on her had gone down, way down, when she’d taken him to the Alvanetti estate. Even more when he’d realized she was one of them.
He was about to head out there to confront her one more time when his cell rang.
Preacher.
“Hey,” he said into the phone as he grabbed his leather jacket and walked toward the front door of the small police building right across from the county courthouse. “What’s happening, Preacher?”
Rory Sanderson’s laugh rolled out on a low wave. “You tell me. I’m thinking you’re up to your eyeballs on this murder that happened last night.”
“You got that right,” Blain said. He stopped in the parking lot, near his car. “I guess I’ll be the hot topic at pizza night, right?”
Blain and his three buddies always met once a week for pizza and watching sports on the popular Back Bay Pizza House.
“We’re all waiting for Thursday at seven o’clock to come,” Rory replied. “I just called to tell you if things get crazy—”
“You will pray for me, right?”
“Oh, I do that, anyway,” the always cheerful minister replied. “I mean, if this case gets as in-depth as I think it will, you’ll need someone to listen to your rants.”
“I know you got my back,” Blain said, thanking God for his friends.
Rory Sanderson was the popular and much-loved minister at Millbrook Lake Church now, but he’d been a chaplain in the army just a few years ago. Another member of their group was Alec Caldwell, a former marine who’d been injured and had the scars to prove it, and was now a successful businessman living in one of the old Victorian houses along the lake. Even though he’d inherited a ton of money from his late mother, he was as laid-back and unassuming as any man could be since he’d met local bakery owner Marla Hamilton. They were getting married in two weeks and Blain was the best man.
Rory would officiate and who knew what their fourth man, Hunter Lawson, would do or if he’d even show up for the wedding. The Okie came and went like a shadow but he was slowly growing on all of them and he was a solid friend if need be. Blain might have to call Hunter since Hunter had gotten his PI license recently and was now available to work cases in the state of Florida.
“So I know you can’t talk about the case but...be careful out there,” Rory said. “This is a bit off the reservation for Millbrook.”
“Yeah, and don’t I know it,” Blain replied. “I’ll be careful. And smart.”
“I’ll see you soon,” Rory said.
Blain hit End and turned to unlock his car. Then he noticed he had a flat tire. “What?”
He bent to examine the tire. He’d just had the vehicle serviced, courtesy of the Millbrook Police Department since it was a departmental vehicle. The mechanics had suggested new tires so he’d had those put on, too.
Now this. Blain studied the tire and noticed something odd. A slash mark cutting deep into the still-new tread.
Suddenly, he wasn’t as worried about how the department’s money had gone to waste on these tires as he was about how someone had obviously slashed this tire in broad daylight.
Blain heaved an aggravated sigh and stood up to check his surroundings, thinking he’d just gotten his first hint on how things would go with an investigation involving an Alvanetti.
Or maybe, his first warning from a killer.
* * *
Rikki sat holding her mother’s frail hand.
Sonia was sleeping, which was a surprise in itself. Her mother used to rise with the dawn because she had to see the sun cresting out over the water to the east. She’d make herself a strong cup of coffee and stroll down to the dock so she could be as close to the water as possible to watch the sunrise.
“Isn’t that amazing?” she’d say to anyone who might want to venture down with her at the crack of dawn. “God’s world is so full of joy and beauty. That same sun that shines on us each day covers the entire earth with warmth. That sun shines on all of us, Rikki. You always remember that, no matter where you are in life. Always look toward the sun, honey.”
Rikki brushed at the tears in her eyes and glanced at the clock. It was midmorning but the heavy curtains in her parents’ bedroom were still drawn shut.
“Hey, Mama, want me to open the curtains so you can see the sunshine?”
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