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Leaving the safety of the wall, she tiptoed over to the stairs and made her way down, studying the scene before her. She even brought up her phone and snapped a few pictures as she crossed the room and came to stand in front of her coffee table.
In the middle of the table, in a glass jar, was a lit candle. Lavender. The flame danced as the wind blew causing air currents to move in her condo. Leaning against the candle was a piece of paper, folded over once with her name on it.
Her hand shook as she reached out and picked up the paper. Opening it, she sucked in a breath as she saw the words. The message was handwritten in a scrawling cursive.
You need to stop poking around in things that don’t concern you. It’s not good for you. You could end up like her.
Her gaze darted around the room and then back down to the paper. Who the hell could’ve left that? Were they still there? Her shaking hands made the paper rattle. Swallowing hard, she reminded herself that she was alone. Whoever did this was gone. But how did they get in?
She dropped the paper on the table and hurried to the front door. Her knees were weak and she stumbled but she caught herself and continued on. Reaching her front door, she checked the locks. All locked and the security chain was in place. No one had come in that way.
Asshole. Someone had purposely come in to scare her. The overwhelming fear she’d felt moments ago was rapidly turning to anger. Her blood pounded through her veins. She fisted her hands, her right one curling tightly around her cell as she headed toward the balcony doors. Pushing aside the blinds, she checked the lock. Open. Her balcony door was open.
“Son of a…” Harper wanted to scream or throw something. She’d locked this door before she went to bed. Someone had broken in while she slept. Who the fuck would do that? Who even knew she was poking around in Astrid’s murder? At least that was thehershe assumed the note referred to.
The man in the library was the only one who’d seen her up there. It had to be him. Her heart thumped as her breath came in gasps. Asshole didn’t cover it. If he thought he was going to get away with this, he had another think coming. Who the hell did he think he was trying to intimidate her?
Jason wanted proof? Well, this was proof. She grabbed her phone and deleted the nine-one-one and then dug up Jason’s number. She started to hit the call button and then stopped. He hadn’t wanted her to interfere with his investigation. Her word wasn’t good enough about the paint. She stared at the candle.
The note was too generic. That’s what Jason would say. It could be referencing anything not necessarily Astrid’s murder. Also, there was no way to be sure the note had been left by the guy in the library. How did he find out that she hated lavender? All valid points. Oh, she could argue with each one but it wouldn’t help her any nor would it improve her case with Jason or the police department.
That was the thing about being a public figure; whatever she did, everyone would notice. She stared at the candle in trepidation. Telling anyone in law enforcement wasn’t going to help. She needed stronger evidence. She brought her cell up and took a few more pictures. She held the note open and took pictures of that as well.
Then she retrieved a flashlight from a drawer in her kitchen and turned on the gas burner under her kettle. She was up now and there was no pretending otherwise. Marching back into the great room with the flashlight, she blew out the candle. The smoky scent helped mask the lavender, a welcome relief. Whoever pulled this shit wasn’t going to get away with it, she vowed silently. She’d find out the truth no matter what the cost. Her stomach rolled. Somehow, she knew that the information she was seeking wouldn’t come cheap.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Flynn stared at the ceiling. The power was still out and his room had gotten chilly. It was hard to believe this morning he’d been nice and toasty warm in Miami. Fast forward a couple hours and now he was freezing his arse off in Maine. He closed his eyes and attempted some breathing exercises to relax, but it was no use. The dull ache in his head and the self-recrimination in his heart for getting hit in the first place were enough to keep him awake for days.
He threw back the covers and got out of bed. Pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweater, he quietly padded out of his room and down the hall. He was hungry. Dinner had been hours ago, and he’d only managed to snag a bit of food as he’d been late to the dining room and Mrs. Carruthers hadn’t wanted to feed him. She was stomping on his last nerve.
He understood why the members didn’t want to deal with her. Rounding the corner by the library, his thoughts went back to the sexy mystery woman. That kiss had been fucking hot, there was no denying that, but what was she doing in the library, and did it have anything to do with the theft of that woman’s necklace? Best option was to find her and ask her. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Maine might be interesting after all.
He roamed around the ground floor until he found the kitchen. His stomach rumbled as he opened the fridge. He shined his flashlight inside and was choosing between roast beef and a roast chicken dish when the hair on the back of his neck went up again.
He whirled around but the kitchen was empty, but he sensed he was not alone. He shined his flashlight all over the kitchen but saw nothing out of place. Everlasting Manor was joining Carruthers on his last fucking nerve.Goddamn ghosts, my ass. Someone was playing around.
He returned his attention to digging in the fridge. He pulled out the chicken and put it on the counter. Cold chicken he could do. Pulling off a chunk, he pulled out a stool and sat down on it while he started munching. He kept his gaze roving around the kitchen but the eerie feeling of being watched didn’t return. Damn good thing. The ache in his head throbbed and he didn’t trust himself not to shoot someone at this point if they annoyed him. The fact that he’d have to go to his room to get his gun just meant more time to plan on how to make it as painful as possible.
After finishing most of the chicken, he put the leftovers back in the fridge with sudden haste. It had occurred to him that someone might get up and find him there and the last thing he wanted to deal with was getting yelled at by Mrs. Carruthers. He’d end up snarling at her or worse. He grabbed a bottle of water from the pantry and headed for the stairs.
As he crossed through the salon, he heard a voice. He stopped, cocked his head, and turned off his flashlight.
“Yes, Austin, it is unfortunate. But I think we’re making progress. If it’s handled just right, it should work.”
Flynn recognized Eli Fisher’s voice. He’d know that cockroach anywhere. And what the hell was he doing in Maine of all places? His presence, although Flynn knew he’d be there, was unexpected. Eli liked bright lights and big cities and all that they offered a vulture like him. Maine was far too sedate, too colloquial for the likes of Eli Fisher, so what the hell was he up to? Did it have something to do with Bryson’s comment about Archer running the place like it was his? Something serious was brewing. The nerves in Flynn’s shoulders tightened.
“Things have been put in motion. As you know there are ways around everything. Great strides were made on finding a solution last night.” A smile in Eli’s voice made Flynn wish he’d not just eaten cold chicken. Fisher snorted. “Just leave it with me for now. Anyway, I must run. I have a few more calls to make overseas. I’ll be back in D.C. at the end of next week. When will you be back?” There was a silence. “Right. I’ll call you with any updates.” He clicked off the call.
Flynn’s instincts told him nothing good would come from that phone call. It never was good when it involved monsters like Eli Fisher and Austin Davis. The two of them were evil incarnate in Flynn’s mind. Just like a two-headed snake operating from the same dark heart. Good thing he was a monster slayer. It was his job and he enjoyed it immensely.
Fisher stood up. He’d been sitting in one of the wingback chairs. His face was briefly lit by the light of his cell phone screen. He was wearing a sweater and what looked like some kind of sweatpants. Not his normal attire at all. The light from the screen faded and Flynn heard him curse as he walked into the table that had been beside the chair.
Flynn could offer assistance but he’d rather let the man stumble around in the dark so he remained frozen in place. Fisher cursed some more and his cell phone screen lit up again. Fisher flipped it over and used it to light the floor in front of him. Idiot didn’t know how to turn on the flashlight feature.
Flynn stood, arms folded across his chest and waited. Eli got within a few feet of him before he finally spoke. “Good morning, Fisher.”
The man let out a small scream and then cursed. His phone screen turned off again and they were plunged into darkness once more.
