The Drake House (32 page)

“If any of you are interested in helping to restore the house on a volunteer basis, or are interested in a job once we open, you can contact me next week. As for the rest of you, I can only hope you keep an open mind now that you know the truth.” Trisha thanked the crowd and refused to answer any more questions.

“Well,” Brad commented, “that should stir up trouble.”

It took another hour before the crowd had completely vacated the property, and four hours before Nick’s heartbeat resembled a safe rhythm. The deputies claimed to hear murmurs about “playing with fire,” the idea being “a stretch,” and even interest in contacting Trish about a job. They hadn’t heard or seen anything else of concern.

It wasn’t as if Nick was expecting an absurd attempt to kill Trisha right there and then on her orchard with the whole town watching, but he wasn’t expecting anything.

Nothing. Not even an argument.

Nick looked up from a chair in the living room when his father tapped his shoulder.

“We’re heading back now.”

Nick looked over at his mother standing by the front door talking to Trish. Neither seemed phased by the day. Nick stood. “Thanks for coming.”

His dad grinned. “Sounds like you’re already at home here, son.”

Nick walked him to the door, saying nothing as Trish hugged his mom.

“You must come for Christmas too,” Trisha told them. “And stay the night. We have a big party on Christmas Eve. Half the town comes.”

Nick hadn’t seen his mother smile like that since before…

The edges of his vision grayed. Words and sounds muddled together. His nerves lit like a flame, purging through his system in a brazen course. He held his breath so long his lungs strained for release.

Trisha was standing on the stairs calling his name before he even realized his parents left.

“You coming?” she asked.

He looked at her, every fiber and breath of pain from Bethany’s death surfacing again. He nearly doubled over from the weight and shock. He’d been in Small Rapids almost eight months. Eight months in color with Trisha, pain free. Happy.

He sucked air through his nose. “I’ll sleep in the guest room from now on.”

She stepped down from the landing and walked to him, her face displaying the same emotional pain he physically felt. “Why?”

Each breath was a grating series of sharp stabs, so he swallowed and tore his eyes from hers. “Set the bedroom door alarm,” he ground out.

She called his name as he climbed the stairs, but the agony and disappointment of it all forced tears to blur his eyes.

It was over.

Eight months was all he was going to get. Not nearly long enough, but more than he deserved.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Trisha’s eyes flew open, scanning her dark bedroom, still hearing those echoing words from her dream,
Thank you for coming
.

The nightmares were back.

She blew out a pent up breath and froze. Her bedroom was freezing. She could see her breaths expelling before her face.

Her gaze whipped to the window. Closed.

Too scared to move, she looked around. Ice crystals were forming over her mirror, starting at the base and moving up, crackling in the quiet of her room. Her heart stopped as she watched, wanting to scream for Nick but unable to.

One. Two. Handprints formed on the mirror.

She gasped, staring. Shaking.

“Trisha…” The voice beckoned. Again. And again. And again, until all she could do was cover her ears and weep.

And then her room was warm again. Her lamp flickered on. The frost was gone. The voice gone. But her worst fear was still there, lying in wait.

Alexandra was back.

****

“They found Wayne Radcliff’s car.”

Nick turned the volume up on his cell so he could hear Lafferty over the noise. They were calling for three inches of snow tonight, so Trisha had her men putting up the Christmas decor in the orchard. He walked far enough away to hear, but close enough to get to her if needed.

“Where?”

“In Milwaukee, just outside Mitchell International airport, along the fence. No surveillance cameras there.”

Nick watched Brad untangle a strand of green lights for Eduardo. “Anything in it?”

“No. And that includes Wayne. The lab is going over it now. Doc Wilson’s grandson came back clean. Had an alibi for Harrison’s murder. Claimed he was on call at home for McArthur’s. Radcliff’s cat’s neck was broken.”

“Anything on the rope?”

“Annie says the fibers and dimensions are consistent with the rope from both crime scenes and they match the ligature marks. She found traces of epithelial cells on the spool from Radcliff’s basement. She’s running DNA on it now.”

“How long will that take?”

“Couple weeks. Holiday and all.” Christmas was a week away.

Trisha was hanging a red strand of lights in the third row. Each row of apple trees had a different color concept. A couple of the other men were hauling out plastic statues of Santa, reindeer, and snowmen. She had decorated inside after the Thanksgiving fiasco.

He didn’t know how, but something was coming down at this party of hers on Christmas Eve. Trisha’s idea to bait the killer by making her plans public hadn’t done anything but recharge her nightmares. Her parents said little to her except passing pleasantries. Nancy and Eduardo got up in the night with him to help her out of the dream state, only to be told by Trisha to go back to bed once she was lucid. The entire house was one gigantic knot of tension.

Maybe this guy was just waiting to blend in at the party to get to her since Nick had been on her like glue. Well, except in the bedroom. He’d stayed in the guestroom the past couple weeks, just like he told her he would. His guilt abated when he stopped touching her. So did the pain. Except not being with her was causing its own hellish kind of pain.

Nick forced his eyes away and told Lafferty his concerns about the Christmas party. Though the other detective wasn’t as certain as Nick, he told him to call if he needed backup.

Nick was almost certain he’d need it.

****

Trisha looked at Nancy over the rim of her cup as she sipped cocoa. Her parents weren’t happy about the decision she made for the Drake house, but Nancy and Eduardo had remained unusually mute on the subject.

She and Nancy had always been close. Before now. Part of her knew she shouldn’t be angry with them. As was the case with her parents, they did what they thought was right. It felt like a betrayal though. They’d been lying her entire life.

She missed Nancy so much. Brad was her best friend, but there were some things she couldn’t discuss with him. Nancy was her rock, her mother, and her friend. She was coming apart at the seams, and all she wanted was the comfort of home.

“I’m sorry, Nancy. For everything.”

Nancy set her tea down on the kitchenette table and gave her a watery smile. “Me too,
chica
.”

All her anger drained. Like a current, the past few months washed away and left her empty. Tears bubbled up, constricting her throat. She shook her head, trying to diffuse the bout of tears coming, but couldn’t. “I made a mess of everything.”

Nancy came off her chair and knelt at her feet. “No. This is not on you. It was us. All us. I’m so…so sorry,
chica
.”

“Chuck is dead. Andrew is dead. Alexandra is dead. All because he wanted me. I can’t take this, Nancy. I can’t. This needs to be over.” She tried sucking in air, but only managed to bring more sobs.

Nancy wrapped Trisha in her arms and started rocking. “Shh, come now. It’s going be okay. Nick will make sure of it.”

“Nick can’t even look at me!”

Loving Nick was pain. Torturous, jarring pain that she couldn’t regret no matter which way she spun it. She knew from the second she saw him all those months ago in the police station that he was different. Not caring how independent she was. Not caring about her baggage. Just her.

But then he had his demons. Demons so deep he refused to part with them.

She wasn’t enough to help him. She wasn’t the one he needed. It broke her in half. She cried it out on Nancy’s shoulder until the tears dried on her cheeks and the hollowness returned.

Nancy pushed her hair away from her face. “He loves you. You’ll see. It’ll work out.”

Trisha didn’t bother to argue. Nancy would never understand. She didn’t even understand it. There was no changing this one.

Nancy returned to the chair across the table and sipped her tea. Trisha looked at her and wondered how to discuss some of the things she’d been contemplating. She didn’t think Nancy would go for it, but Trisha was hoping she’d at least think about it.

“The Drake house has an entire wing in the attic. A small kitchenette, bedroom, bath, and living room. I’ll need someone there fulltime once the inn is running. Someone I trust.”

Her housekeeper’s hands shook, but she managed to set down the cup. “What are you asking?”

Trisha placed a hand over hers. “I won’t make you. I wouldn’t do that. But I’d like you and Eduardo to move in there when everything’s done. To have your own place. He can still work the orchard with me, and you can run the day to day things there. Manage the housekeeping, maintenance, booking, cooking.”

Nancy paled. “What about you? What about the house here?”

She’d be alone. Nick would eventually go back to Milwaukee, and she’d go back to focusing on her orchard. Just like it was before. “Emma Jennings applied for a cook position at the B&B but I was thinking of hiring her on here to replace you. She has three kids to support, and it would help her out. She has experience cooking for a large group of people. She’d still live at home and I’d have the house to myself.”

“This house is too big for just you. The sleepwalking—”

“Will be under control. Nick is getting closer to finding the truth. Alexandra Drake just wants us to figure it out. That’s what this has all been about.”

Nancy searched her face for a long time, the worry lines between her eyebrows deepening. Her expression was miserable as she nodded her consent. “I’ll talk with Eduardo if that’s what you want.”

“You don’t have to be afraid, Nancy.” Nancy looked away and rose from her chair, moving to the sink to rinse her cup. “It’s not a punishment. Just think about it. I trust you.” Her housekeeper stared into the sink as if not hearing her at all. Trisha walked over to her. “I trust you,” she whispered.

With tears clinging to her lashes, Nancy finally acknowledged her. She patted her cheeks, her hands warm against her skin, and nodded. “Thank you,
chica. Te amo
.”

“I love you, too.”

****

There wasn’t anything more to be done. Nick had arranged for two deputies to stay at the station, and though off duty, Steve would be at the Christmas party with him just in case. He couldn’t justify scheduling more men on Christmas Eve. They all had families and plans. Nick didn’t bother relaying his fears to anyone else but Lafferty. The extra attention might make the guy change his mind in making a move tonight. If he would at all.

This guy, whoever the hell he was, went against everything Nick learned in police training. He killed, but didn’t seem to take pleasure in it. He had ample opportunity to go after others, but didn’t. He had more than enough chances to silence Trish for good, yet made no real attempt. Instead, he called with threats and left notes. The thing was so damn bizarre Nick almost laughed.

Either way, he was someone close to her. Someone who didn’t want to hurt her, but would. All signs pointed to Hank Eaton or Wayne Radcliff, but his gut said no. His gut was rarely wrong. Which meant the killer was one of a hundred in the small town. The fact Wayne was still missing worried him, in case he
was
wrong.

He didn’t do the right thing with Bethany, but by God, he would with Trish. He would find this guy, protect her, and leave her alone to live her life. Trish deserved at least that much.

Hank cleared his throat and smoothed a hand down his tie. “Why don’t you see what’s keeping Trisha? Guests should be arriving soon.”

Nick looked at the staircase from his chair and then over to Nancy setting out food on the dining room table. The house looked amazing, like something his mother would have done if there were any guests to be had. Poinsettias lined the fireplace mantel. North Pole figurines decorated the tables. Stockings hung from the banister. Each ranch hand had his own. So did her parents, his parents, and himself. He swallowed. They had made him a stocking. Candy canes lined the driveway right up to the spectacular display in the orchard.

Nick wanted to tell Hank to go to hell, but he liked the guy too damn much. Too personal. Problem one from the get-go. He got too personal with this family to see clearly. Being so detached from her family these past few months was hurting Trish deeply. Things had been better with Nancy, but her parents were still an arm’s length away.

Nick rose. “Look, Hank, she needs you. You should talk to her after the party.”

Without waiting for a response, he climbed the stairs only to stand outside her bedroom door and stare. They hadn’t had a conversation in two weeks. She wouldn’t even look him in the eye when they passed each other in the halls—not since he told her he would sleep alone. She probably saw this as her fault. In Trisha’s mind, everything was her fault. Hopefully she’d get over it.

Get over him.

He knocked and entered the bedroom before he lost the courage. She was standing with her arms crossed looking out the window. Wearing a long red dress that hugged her waist, she had left her hair down. The beautiful chestnut brown waves skimmed her back like a petal, and the dress dipped low enough to have his body reacting.

She turned when he said nothing, and if she was surprised to see him, she hid it well. He glanced down. The dress formed a V over her perfect breasts. He pinched his eyes closed and swallowed before opening them again. “They’re looking for you downstairs.”

She snatched a pair of black heels from the bed before brushing by him on her way to the door. He grabbed her arm.