Gift of Gold (43 page)

The opening would be provided when Jonas slid the rapier into Kincaid
’
s throat.
The violence of death caused by the object to which they were attached would open the conduit the ribbons needed to come into the present.

Verity knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jonas would be destroyed or driven insane by the emotions of the past as they swept through the rapier into him.

“Jonas, no!” Verity darted forward and grabbed his arm just as his muscles were bunching for the kill.

He shook her off with such force that she went spinning against the bed. Florentine gold eyes glittered with relentless fury as he turned to look at her. A four-hundred-year-old ghost looked out of those eyes, but so did a twentieth-century man consumed by rage. “He was going to rape you. Kill you. I’ll see him in hell for that.”

Caitlin whispered hoarsely from the doorway. “Yes. Now. Kill him.
Kill him!
”

Kincaid looked from the face of the man who held him at blade point to the scarred woman in the doorway. “Who the hell are you?” he rasped. “What’s going on here?”

“
Kill him,
”
Caitlin screamed.

Jonas started to plunge the rapier into Kincaid’s soft flesh. Kincaid screamed and Verity leaped up from the bed. She caught hold of Jonas’s arm one more time.

“No,” she said tightly. “Not you, Jonas. Listen to me. You can’t kill him. Everything in that corridor is waiting for you. I won’t be able to hold those ribbons in the corridor if you kill him now. The past will devour you if you kill him.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“No, you won’t. I won’t allow it.”

“Dammit, Verity,” Jonas hissed.

Caitlin moved forward, her expression savage. “I agree. He has to die. Not for what he was about to do to Verity, but
for what he did to me.”

Kincaid stared at her. He licked at his lips, obviously seeking a way to buy some time.
“
Who are you?
”

She looked down at him with the air of a woman pronouncing sentence on a condemned man. Then she smiled terribly. “Susan Connelly.”

“No,” Kincaid said in a thin scream. “No, you can’t be.”

“You’re right,” Caitlin said with an odd twist to her smile. “I’m not Susan. Not anymore.” Her eyes flashed at Jonas. “Do it now while I can see the fear in his eyes.”

“I
won’t let you use Jonas as your
condottiere,
”
Verity warned fiercely. “This is your scene. You write the ending.”

Caitlin stared at her. Then she lunged for the hilt of the rapier.

Jonas blinked, startled, and released the weapon into her clutching fingers.

Verity was instantly free of the corridor. It vanished along with the throbbing, hungry ribbons that had been swirling around her. She had time to see the metallic-colored one, cheated of its prey, rejoin the pack before the whole scene disappeared. It was a tremendous relief not to have to deal with two realities at once.

“You’re all crazy!
Crazy!
”
Kincaid leaped to his feet as the exchange was being made. He threw himself at Caitlin, clearly not expecting her to be able to use the rapier.

But Caitlin raised the tip of the blade as he launched himself toward her, bringing it instinctively into line with Kincaid’s chest.

Kincaid had no chance to alter his course. His scream of rage and pain filled the room as he impaled himself on the rapier. He clutched the hilt in both hands as he slowly crumpled to his knees. His glazing eyes met Caitlin’s as he sank to the floor in front of her. He looked stunned that such a fate could have overtaken him. Stunned that a woman could have done this to him. Then he looked very, very dead.

There was a shout from downstairs. Apparently someone had finally figured out something was going on upstairs.

Jonas glanced down at the dead man and then looked at each of the women in turn. “No question about it,” he said meaningfully. “A clear-cut case of self-defense. We’ve got four eyewitnesses and we’re all going to tell the same story. No sense confusing the authorities. Pay attention, ladies, while I give you the rough outline.”

Chapter
Nineteen

His arm hurt like hell. The anesthetic the doctor had provided when he stitched up the wound was wearing off, Jonas realized. But it was worth the discomfort just to have the opportunity to be the focus of Verity’s anxious concern.

It occurred to him that he had never seen her fuss before, unless he counted the times she got upset because a sauce separated or a soufflé fell. It was strangely pleasant to have her hovering protectively. She hadn’t left his side since the battle upstairs had ended, except to fetch and carry whatever he requested. The little tyrant had turned into a devoted handmaid.

Jonas told himself he’d better enjoy the service and attention while he could. Knowing Verity, it wouldn’t last long.

“I think you should be in bed, Jonas,” she said with a worried little frown as she checked his bandage for the thousandth time. “You know what the doctor said about shock.”

“I’m not in shock,” Jonas assured her mildly. “But just in case I’m on the verge, why don’t you bring me something to drink? Whiskey might be nice.”

“I’ve never heard of alcohol being good for shock.”

“Trust me,” he said. “Whiskey has been used for centuries to cure everything from snakebite to shock. Works like a charm.”

“If you say so.” She hurried over to the bar that had been set up in the long salon at the front of the house. The remains of several half-empty bottles and a number of unopened ones still littered the area.

The bottles of liquor had been left standing where they were when the caterers and the guests had finally realized something dramatic had happened. Only the perishable food had been put away. Caitlin had asked everyone, including the elite group of bidders, to leave as soon as the sheriff’s men had finished. The catering staff had promised to return early in the morning to clean up before the auction.

Verity’s peacock-blue gown was gone, discarded for a pair of snug-fitting jeans and a teal-blue long-sleeved top that fastened with ten tiny buttons down the front. Jonas watched his boss bend over to find a glass behind the bar. The woman did look good in a pair of jeans.

Caitlin, Tavi, Verity, and Jonas were alone amid the aftermath of the aborted Renaissance ball. It was time for some explanations as far as Jonas was concerned; explanations that went beyond those that had been given to the authorities.

“I want some answers to a few questions,” Jonas said as Verity put a cool glass into his hand. She sank down onto a footstool at his feet, close at hand in case he needed anything else. Jonas absently stroked her coppery hair with a sense of amused satisfaction. This was definitely a moment to be savored.

Across the room Tavi and Caitlin sat close together on the gray banquette that lined one wall. Neither woman had said much since the authorities had left. Caitlin seemed to have retreated into a world of her own and Tavi had not left her side.

The story given to the sheriff’s men had been truthful up to a point. No outright lies had been told, but two of the six people who had been intimately involved in the evening’s drama were dead. The other four had stuck to their story.

It was a simple, straightforward tale. Kincaid had apparently planned to steal
Bloodlust
and had hired the mysterious Tresslar to help him do it. For whatever reason, Kincaid had decided he didn’t stand a chance in the coming auction. Jonas had interrupted the theft and nearly gotten himself killed. He had gone back to the house in time to find Kincaid trying to kidnap Verity, possibly because he knew she would be suspicious of his involvement when it was discovered that Jonas had gone over the cliff.

Startled in the act of trying to subdue Verity, Kincaid had lost his gun and had gone for the nearest weapon, an old rapier hanging on the wall. Caitlin had quickly supplied Jonas with a blade of his own. Kincaid had been defeated but had made one last bid to escape. He had flung himself at Caitlin, who was holding one of the rapiers. She had instinctively brought the blade up to ward him off, and the rest was history.

So to speak.

Simple and straightforward. The sheriff’s men might not have liked certain parts of it, but it was a cinch they weren’t going to get any other answers. Every eyewitness told basically the same tale.

“What do you want to know?” Caitlin asked quietly.

Jonas took a swallow of whiskey. “The little plan for revenge you outlined to Verity and me this morning was a complete lie, wasn’t it? You never did intend to humiliate Kincaid in public. You intended to have him killed in private. By me. Let’s start with how much you know about me.” He felt Verity’s tension as she put one arm on his leg. She was watching Caitlin closely.

Caitlin nodded slowly. “You have a right to know, I suppose.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Jonas remarked. “You said you heard me lecture at Vincent College a few years back?”

“I attended the lectures because I had already heard about the experiments,” Caitlin said. She paused and then added gently, “I was a close friend of Elihu Wright. A very close friend.”

Tavi shifted slightly and put her hand on Caitlin’s. She said nothing.

Verity frowned thoughtfully. “Elihu Wright. Wasn’t he the old man you said gave Vincent College the money to start the Department of Paranormal Research, Jonas?”

It was Caitlin who answered. “Elihu believed passionately in the existence of psychic phenomena of all kinds. He was determined to prove their existence and he gave millions to Vincent. In return he demanded to be kept thoroughly briefed on all research progress. When Jonas started testing, Elihu got very excited. He said that at last they had found a solid experimental subject. He was surprised at the type of psychic ability you had, Jonas. Elihu had been expecting to encounter telepathy or something more familiar. But there was no doubt about your talent.”

“How much did he know?” Jonas asked.

“Everything.” Caitlin looked at him. “Including what happened the day you went wild in the lab and nearly killed the technician. You never knew it, Jonas, but a great deal of data was recorded from that experiment. The research people went over it thoroughly and put together some theories. Those theories were all turned over to Elihu. The information was kept very secret but more tests were planned.”

Jonas swore softly, feelingly. The bastards had intended to put him through that hell all over again. “Tests which never got carried out because I packed up and left the country.”

Caitlin nodded again. “Elihu died shortly after you left. And the department itself was permanently closed. Psychic research was not deemed a respectable field of study for a classy college like Vincent. As Elihu’s heir, I got possession of all the research reports that had been done.”

“You were his heir?” Verity asked.

“I loved Elihu, not as a lover but as a friend. I met him in the hospital where I spent so much time after the accident. He was recovering from a heart attack. He became my friend and my mentor. He was the one who encouraged me to go back to painting. At that point in my life I didn’t want to do anything, not even paint. But Elihu kept pushing me. We became very close. He had no family. His only passion was psychic research. When he died he left everything to me. He was extremely wealthy.”

“It was his money you eventually used to buy this house?” Verity prodded.

“In part. But by the time Sandquist died, I was already becoming very successful on my own.” She shrugged eloquently. “Money has not been a problem for me. Revenge was what I wanted. I spent hours, days, months, years thinking of ways to punish Sandquist and Kincaid. But they were always too powerful, too wealthy, and infinitely out of reach. Then Kincaid began collecting my paintings. I was stunned. At first I worried that he would recognize my style. I should have known better. My style changed drastically after what happened to me here in this house. And Kincaid had never been all that interested in my art before the rape.”

“Besides, he thought you were dead,” Verity said slowly. “Why was he so sure of that?”

“There was another woman in the car with me that night he ran me off the cliff. A hitchhiker I had picked up earlier. She was asleep in the backseat and never knew what happened. But I was conscious after the accident and I knew it was Kincaid who had tried to kill me. I knew I would never be safe. So I switched identities with the poor, dead woman before the authorities arrived. In the confusion, no one ever asked any questions.”

“When you knew Kincaid had begun collecting your work, you saw the beginning of what might be a chance to get at him, right?” Jonas hazarded.

“Yes. Finally I had a hold, however tenuous, on him. I was wondering how to involve Sandquist, too, but then he went over that cliff one night.”

Jonas’s mouth twisted grimly as he remembered the muddy battle for survival he had waged at the broken fence.

“The same way I almost went over it tonight. Kincaid knew all about that particular spot at the edge of the cliff. My guess is he had used it previously. Probably to get rid of Sandquist.” Broken flashes of impressions and images flickered through his mind again as they had when he grabbed the fence post to keep himself from falling. Another man besides Tresslar had gone, screaming, over those cliffs.

Tavi spoke up for the first time. “You think Kincaid killed Sandquist? But why?”

Verity glanced at her. “It’s not unlikely that a couple of bastards such as those two might have had a falling-out. They might have been partners in crime but that doesn’t mean they were best friends.”

Jonas tangled his fingers in her hair. “True,” he murmured. “Given the past they shared, the situation could have been ripe for blackmail, or it’s possible Kincaid just decided Sandquist was a liability. After all, Sandquist knew a hell of a lot about Kincaid’s doings here in this house. Drugs, sex, and violence. Plenty of motives.” That fit, he decided. It made sense. He could easily envision Kincaid killing Sandquist. He sensed Verity’s small shudder and his hand tightened reassuringly in her hair.