Page 3 of Secret Dynasty

“I assume you’ll want your license and some money,” he said, taking his glasses off to wipe them on a handkerchief.

It was a surprisingly thoughtful gesture, but I knew better than to let my guard down. Giles hadn’t been present for my confrontation with Tod. The fact that he was here now, suggested he’d either heard about it or been informed of the row.

“Which car is hers?” I asked him.

Giles tilted his head toward the final row in the garage toward a yellow coupe. “That one is yours.”

Yours.

I did my best to ignore the implication in his words. Instead, I strode toward it, Eliza and Giles following close behind me. Kerrigan Belmond drove a canary-yellow Porsche 911. I stared at it for a moment, willing myself to remember seeing the vehicle before. If this was mine, I would remember it. Between the color and its sexy sports car lines, it wasn’t the type of car that was easy to forget.

“The key fob is inside it,” Giles told me. “Try not to wreck it again.”

Again.

So that’s how she drove: recklessly. Why didn’t that surprise me?

“I’m a very safe driver,” I said back to him coolly.

If Giles understood what I was really saying, he ignored it. “I doubt he’ll buy you another after last time,” he warned me, sticking to the charade Tod had started in his office. “When can we expect you to return?”

“Does it matter?” I snapped.

“I merely want to set up an appointment with Dr. Baker for you.” He paused as if waiting for me to fight him on this.

My stomach flipped over at the thought of visiting Kerrigan’s doctor. Surely, he wouldn’t go along with this ploy. I could talk to him. There were codes of conduct. I could file a complaint if he wouldn’t listen. I took a deep breath to steady myself. “I thought you made my schedule.” I shrugged. “Whenever.”

“Once we know more about the funeral, I will arrange it.” His response was stiff. There was a moment’s hesitation, and I half expected him to say something. Instead, he smiled tightly and left.

Eliza exhaled loudly next to me. “What the actual fuck?”

“You can say that again,” I muttered. “Let’s get out of here.”

“No arguments from me.”

I slid behind the wheel of the Porsche, tucking the small clutch next to the console. I pushed the ignition button. It roared to life, purring loudly in the quiet garage. It took me a few seconds to locate the garage door opener on the dash. I released a grateful breath when the door began rising. Eliza watched me with dark eyes, not saying anything as we pulled carefully out of the garage into an evening shower.

The gate to Willoughby Place’s private drive was open. Was I supposed to see it as a sign of good faith? I was being allowed to leave. How big of Tod Belmond and his posse. Still, I wasn’t going to squander my good fortune. The farther I got from him and his lies, the better. Not that I had any idea where to go. Rain lashed the windshield as I slowly drove the streets of Hampstead. I didn’t know London. I’d been driven during most of my time here, and even if I did have a handle on the city, I didn’t belong anywhere. I hadn’t cried since I left the house, but my eyes ached from earlier and my skin was tight where my tears had fallen.

“Should we go back to Bexby?” I asked Eliza.

“Do you want to?” she asked carefully. “Maybe we should just pull over and talk.”

That was actually a great idea. Maneuvering my car to the side of the street, I put it in park and stared ahead. Darkness chased the twilight, autumn already cutting the days short. Time was running out, and I didn’t know what to do.

Eliza didn’t say anything as we sat there. When I couldn’t take the silence any longer, I searched for something to say that would cut through the tension that had formed since our hasty departure. But there was only one thing I kept coming back to.

“Do you think I’m crazy?” I blurted out.

“I’m not sure how to answer that,” she admitted. I threw a scorching look at her and she continued on quickly, “I mean, I think this situation is mental, and you are part of this situation. So…”

That was a yes if I ever heard one.

I sighed, closing my eyes, and thought of a better question. “Do you believe them?”

“I don’t know them,” she said firmly. “But you do, so I guess what matters is do you believe them?”

I wanted to shake my head, but it wouldn’t move. I swallowed as I found myself unable to speak.