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Claire smiled. She thought there had to be something significant in the way the first thing the note said was that he loved her. He wasn’t kidding about the ring? She wasn’t kidding about him being stuck with her for the rest of their lives.
She needed to go find Mia. To hell with them getting any sleep. They had a wedding to plan.
Claire pulled on her robe. Not finding the sash to keep it closed, she grabbed the Celtic knot brooch, pulled the robe closed, and fastened the brooch to the side of her waist, securing the robe. She all but skipped into the main room. It was odd that Mia wasn’t up. One of the things the two of them had in common was that they were early risers. Well, she could sleep after Claire was married. She ran over to the second bedroom suite, which had once been hers and flung open the door. No Mia.
“Mia?” she called. No answer. “Mia?” she called again as she looked in the bath and closet, although why she thought Mia might be hiding in a closet she’d never know.
The bed looked as though it had been slept in, but all the windows were closed and locked from the inside. Turning back to the bed, she saw the note propped up in the middle. There was nothing to say the note was anything other than one from Mia, but still there was an ominous air about the thing that chilled her to the bone.
She walked towards the bed in the same way she might approach a fractious horse—slowly, hand out-stretched, and watching it for any false move. Slowly, Claire leaned forward and picked up the note.
Claire,
We need to talk. You thought I didn’t know it was you, but I figured it out.
I have your silly little Irish friend. Had you come with me quietly last night, I wouldn’t have had to involve her. But you didn’t, so I did. As usual, you made things more difficult by refusing to listen to your betters.
I’ll be waiting for you at our old haunt after sunset. Don’t keep me waiting or your friend will pay the price.
It wasn’t signed, but there was no doubt as to who the author was—Evangeline. The front door slammed and Fletch called her name.
“In here,” she replied.
Fletch walked in and must have seen the fear and concern on her face. “What is it?”
She handed him the note as if she was handing him some unstable explosive.
“What the fuck!” he snarled, before pulling her close. “We’ll get her back.”
“I know we will.”
“Where is she talking about, do you know?”
“One possibility is behind on the side of the house. I overheard her and Gemma talking about me one day. It really hurt my feelings and Evangeline got in trouble with her father, but that’s too open and the dogs will be out and about. More likely it’s the stables. When Poppi worked for the family, they had a huge horse operation—breeding and sales, but since he died, no one has done much with it. Last I knew, there were a couple of broodmares, but that was it. Once I could outride Evangeline and beat her at a prestigious horseshow, she never rode again.”
Fletch fingered the brooch. “That looks pretty there.”
Claire glanced down. “Thanks. I couldn’t find the sash,” she said distractedly.
“Given that it’s a brooch to hold a scarf closed, I’m surprised it has a back to it,” he said tracing the strong, bold threads of the Celtic knot. “Wait a second.” Fletch reached down and unpinned the brooch, bringing the knot up so they could see it more closely. “What’s this?”
He indicated a tiny hinge on one side.
“Do you think it opens?” she asked.
“I think it must; otherwise, why put a hinge and a back on it? I think it has a secret compartment.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asked excitedly. for the moment forgetting Mia was in danger. “God, I’m an awful friend. Evangeline has Mia and I’m all excited about a secret compartment.”
“What do you think is in it? And Evangeline doesn’t want to meet until sundown, which gives us time to get men in place to move in and get Mia to safety.”
“Evangeline will hurt Mia if I don’t show,” said Claire. “Of that you can be sure.”
Fletch searched her face, looking to see if she was serious. He must have seen the stubborn set of her jaw and known there was no way he’d keep her out of it. He pried open the back of the brooch and something fell out. Fletched leaned down to pick it up. It was a key of some sort. It looked to be old.
“What the hell do you think that goes to?” he asked, holding it up so she could see.
“It’s an antique key of some sort,” she said, taking it from him and examining it more closely.
