Dangerous Relations (14 page)

"And the best stores, Mommy used to say."

Ardin swallowed. "That's right." After a moment, she said, "Would you like to live in
Manhattan?"

Leonie studied Mr. Bonkers, as if she were waiting for her constant companion to give her
the answer. Finally she shook her head. "No, we want to stay here with Daddy. And we want you to
stay here, too, Cousin Ardin."

Ardin hugged her tight before rising to her feet. "I'd better see to dinner, or we'll never get
to eat."

Later they sat in the den and watched TV. When her cell phone rang, Ardin gave a
start.

Brett greeted her, sounding upbeat. "I thought I'd check on my girls before I went out on
the town."

"Hi, yourself. We're fine. Have a good day?"

"Fair to miserable. I had to send back five signs with errors, and fire someone for goofing
off. I'm sure I'll hear from the union on that one. What about your day?"

Ardin told him what she'd done. He was angry that she'd met Dimitri, pleased that she'd
agreed to write a letter for Renata. "Maybe you'll start a practice in Thornedale, after all."

"Not on your life."

"I want to talk to Daddy," Leonie said.

"Here's Leonie," Ardin said.

"Be careful, Ardin. Make sure you lock all the doors."

"I always do," Ardin told him with some asperity. But inwardly she basked in his
concern.

She pretended to watch the silly sitcom while she listened to Leonie chat with Brett.
She felt a stab of guilt, knowing she'd be separating them.
Brett can visit us in Manhattan.
And I'll bring her here on weekends so they can spend time together.

After bathing Leonie and reading to her, she kissed her good night, and closed her door
halfway, the way she liked it. Once downstairs, she finished writing her plea to the court. She
planned to file it tomorrow morning when she delivered the letter to Renata's nephew. Marshall
Crewe, like most of the lawyers in town, rented offices within blocks of the courthouse.

At ten o'clock, Ardin turned off her laptop and stretched her arms overhead. It felt good to
be involved in legal matters again. She felt invigorated, but her shoulders ached. Time for a nice,
leisurely bath.

Upstairs, she ran the water and poured in her aunt's expensive bath oil. Nearly an hour
later, puckered as a prune, she got out and dried herself.

She'd had every intention of going to bed early, but found herself too agitated to sleep. She
looked in on Leonie, who was fast asleep, with her blonde hair spread like a halo on her pillow. She
walked past her aunt's formal bedroom and into Suziette's room.

She had the strongest compulsion to make sure her copy of the tally sheets were where
she'd left them. A foot away from the bureau, she let out a gasp. The top drawer was slightly
open.

She'd gone through every drawer the other night and knew she'd closed them all. Her
hands shook as she pulled open the bottom drawer and felt inside the folded blanket for the papers
she'd hidden. Nothing.

She shook out the blanket, hoping desperately to see the sheets of paper flutter to the floor.
The only item the blanket yielded was a red barrette.

He's been here!
The murderer had come to Aunt Julia's house searching for
something incriminating, something he feared would reveal his identity. Was he still in the
house? On trembling legs, she raced to Leonie's room, breathed a sigh of relief to see her
asleep, and then checked out every room, upstairs and downstairs. No sign of an
intruder.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't be back!

She climbed the stairs again and stood in the doorway of her bedroom, afraid to enter. He
must have been here, too. She was trembling so badly, it took all her effort to walk the few feet to
her bed. She sat holding her head in her hands and forced herself to think.

She had to call Rabe. She grimaced at the thought of his men poking around the house and
waking Leonie, frightening her. While he sniffed and poked about, he was sure to subject her to all
sorts of innuendoes.

Ardin's sighs turned into sobs. She needed someone beside her, someone supportive and
caring to hold her and stroke her, who'd promise everything would turn out all right. She went
down to the kitchen and called Brett.

* * * *

Brett had ended his conversation with his brother, and was stripping down to his
Jockeys when the phone rang.
Maybe it's Ardin,
wondering if I decided to go into Frank's
deal.
Imagining her concern brought a smile to his lips.

It was Ardin, all right, but his business deal was the last thing on her mind. His heart
leaped to his throat when she told him someone had been in the house.

"No one's there now?"

"No," she insisted, though her voice held the slightest tremor of doubt.

"Is Leonie--?" He couldn't speak his fear, not even in his mind.

"She's fine, Brett. Sound asleep upstairs. I was wondering..."

His relief eased into joy as he realized what she wanted. "I'll be right over. Don't let anyone
in."

"I'll have to call Detective Rabe," she reminded him.

Brett groaned. "Of course you do. Give me a ten minute start."

He pulled on a warm up suit and sneakers, and set off at breakneck speed to look after his
womenfolk. His brain raced along almost as fast as the Jeep. Who was this guy? It had to be the
same person who'd killed Suziette and broke into his house. But why the hell was he hot on Ardin's
heels?

Thank God he hadn't injured her! He'd obviously come into the house while she and Leonie
were out. That was a good sign. But it didn't explain the smashed car window and the threatening
note.

Unless there were two dangerous madmen after her.

The band of pressure tightened around his head, He pounded the steering wheel in
frustration. Dammit! He wasn't going to let anyone harm the people he loved the most on this earth.
Not if he had to guard them twenty-four/seven for the rest of their lives.

He brought the Jeep to a screeching halt in the driveway. When he pounded on the door, it
opened immediately. Ardin fell into his arms. He held her tightly, felt the thumping of her
heart.

"You're supposed to ask who it is,'" he admonished, "and wait for me to identify
myself."

"I saw you through the window." She sighed deeply and nestled her head against his chest.
"I'm so glad you're here."

He surrendered to the sheer pleasure of holding her. Leading her to the living room sofa, he
sat down beside her. "Did you call Rabe?"

She gave him an impish smile. "I told him you were on your way."

"I can imagine what he said to that."

"He asked me if you had a key to the house."

"He would." Annoyed, he smacked his fist in his hand, and instantly regretted his
action when Ardin flinched.
Will she ever get past expecting to be struck?

Too restless to sit, he paced the living room floor. "I wonder how he got in. Any sign of
breaking and entering?"

"No." Ardin thought a bit. "I just remembered. Aunt Julia used to leave a key hidden
between the azalea bush and the second step for Suziette. I never thought to see if it's there."

"I'll go check."

He returned a minute later, holding the key between thumb and forefinger. "It was there,
barely hidden in the dirt."

Ardin's eyes widened. "So that's how he got in."

"Looks that way. Good thing he put it back. Here." He placed it in her palm and closed her
fingers around it. "The question is, how did he get past the alarm system?"

She gave him a shame-faced smile. "I only bother to set it at night."

He wanted to shake her, to force her to take care of herself and Leonie, but he'd done the
very same thing himself.

"Okay," he said, trying to sound more chipper than he felt. "We have the key he probably
used, and that's good. It means he doesn't have it any longer and he isn't planning to come
back."

"But who is he? How did he know about the key?"

"I've no idea. It could be anyone Suziette knew. Or Julia."

"You're right."

The doorbell rang, startling them both. Ardin squeezed his arm. "Get ready for Inspector
Javert."

* * * *

It took all of Ardin's self-control to remain silent when Detective Rabe asked Brett where
he'd been between the hours of ten and four. She lost it when he had Officer Devine write down the
names of the six workmen who could vouch that he'd never left the work site during those
hours.

"Detective Rabe, your line of questioning is both offensive and objectionable."

He gave her a wounded look. "Miss Wesley, unpleasant questions are part of my job. Now,
may we take a look upstairs?"

Brett's wink both soothed and stirred her as she took the lead. "This is the room I've been
using," Ardin said.

She and Brett stood in the hall while the two policemen searched the room quickly and
thoroughly.

"Anything of yours missing?" Rabe said.

She shook her head. "Not that I've noticed."

They spent more time in Suziette's old bedroom.

"And what, if anything, has been taken from this room?"

"Copies of pages of the notebook I gave you yesterday." She explained how she'd made a
copy of Suziette's tally notebook and put the pages inside the folded-up blanket. Childishly, she
couldn't resist saying, "You didn't think they were very important, and now they're gone."

"I never said they weren't important," Rabe said.

"The person who broke in must be the murderer, and he's after something. Don't you have
any idea what it might be?"

Rabe spun around and positioned himself so close, she could smell his milky breath. "Do
you, Ms. Wesley?"

"Me?"

"He broke into your aunt's house after you moved in. And let's not forget the warning you
received yesterday."

Ardin was too surprised by his attack to answer. A second surprise came when Brett put an
arm around her shoulders. He glared at Detective Rabe and said, "If you were half as good at
detecting as you are at upsetting people, you'd have found the murderer by now."

Detective Rabe pursed his lips and nodded. "Mr. Waterstone, you more than anyone should
appreciate that I spend every hour of every day trying to apprehend your wife's murderer."

Brett, she was glad to see, refused to fall for his plea of self-pity. "Let me remind you,
detective, my wife's daughter is asleep in the next room. Don't wake her up."

It was an order and Rabe knew it. "I believe we're finished here. We'll send someone over
tomorrow to dust for fingerprints in Mrs. Waterstone's room. Please don't touch anything
there."

When they were gone, Ardin turned the second lock and breathed a deep sigh of relief. "I
wish I never had to set eyes on that awful man again."

"You won't have to, once this is over."

She looked into his eyes. "Do you think he's capable of finding Suziette's murderer?"

"I have my doubts."

"We may have to find him ourselves."

"I'm beginning to think so."

Ardin's blood turned cold. The thought was frightening enough without having Brett agree
with her. "I could use a drink. Would you like one?"

"A scotch straight up would be great. It's been a hell of an evening."

She poured their drinks and led the way to the living room. As she handed Brett his glass,
she remembered his dinner plans.

"Did you decide to go into the condo deal with Frank?"

He leaned forward in his seat. "I sure did. They're planning one hundred and seventy-five
beautiful freestanding units around an eighteen-hole golf course. And the clubhouse is beyond
belief--indoor pool, a banquet hall, an auditorium for shows."

Ardin smiled at his enthusiasm. "It sounds like heaven."

"Frank showed me figures and plans. Everything looks good. I called Rob and he agreed
we'd be fools to pass up the chance of a lifetime." He grinned. "The best part for me is, I get to work
in Thornedale."

"That's terrific," Ardin said, but her voice came out flat. The conversation was heading in
the wrong direction.

Brett gave her a puzzled look. When she said nothing, he started for the door. "Well, I'd
better get going."

She leaped to her feet. "Don't go! I don't want you to leave."

He turned and opened his arms. Ardin ran into his embrace. He pulled her hard against his
body, but the words he murmured into her hair were the softest, most endearing she'd ever
heard.

"I'll stay as long as you want me."

She raised her face to his radiant smile, to his full, sensuous lips now covering hers. His
tongue entered her mouth, searching, seeking, finding a response to his rising passion. She wound
her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His arousal pressed against her belly, inciting her
own mounting excitement.

The kiss ended and they each drew back to study the other's face. "You are so beautiful,"
Brett whispered. "I want to make love to you."

For the second time that evening, she led him upstairs.

They stood beside the narrow bed and undressed, gazing into each other's eyes.

"Lie down," Brett said. "I want to worship you."

He kissed her eyes, her lips, her breasts, while his hands stroked and caressed. Ardin
moaned, arching her body toward his. She ran her hands down his chest then held him tight. "I want
you," she murmured in his ear.

"I've wanted you since Sunday night."

His words, his fingers deep inside her, inflamed her sensations to a more fiery pitch. He
smiled as he moved above and entered her.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, startled by the intensity of her pleasure. And more was yet to come,
much more.

For one moment they remained still, prolonging the anticipation, and then he thrust, hard
and strong. She moaned, clasping him closer. They rocked together, his strokes faster, more urgent.
Ardin was swept along on a river of rising passion, until her ecstasy became unbearable.