Starfish Island (27 page)

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Authors: Deborah Brown

BOOK: Starfish Island
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But she continued to have a funny feeling that the whole house was awake with her.
You’re letting your imagination run wild.

Nicole kept hearing distant vague sounds; she listened and swore she heard whispers. Something was going on in the house. The sound of footsteps moving around, someone on the stairs. Her stomach in knots, she tentatively reached out to touch the intercom button and listened carefully for any sound coming from the room next to hers.

Silence again. It had probably been the Greys downstairs. Or it was just nerves. Of course it was nothing; why would someone be in the next room?

Then she heard an intake of breath.

Don’t be silly
, she told herself,
it’s only you
. She held her breath for several seconds, but the sound of heavy breathing went on. Someone was in the room next to hers.

It must be Lucia. Nicole relaxed. Chester must have moved her out of their rooms and into one of her own. Now that the Greys had ownership of the house, there would be changes, and more of them than moving their daughter in. They’d always treated Nicole as if she were an unwanted guest in
their
house. If she didn’t vacate soon, she had no doubt they’d have her arrested for trespassing, scare her out or, worse, try to hurt her. She wouldn’t put it past Chester to get his hands dirty.

Nicole sank back against her pillows and closed her eyes, but sleep seemed impossible. Unexpectedly, an image of Ellis Sadler leaped into her head, telling her that the signature on the first will looked forged. Why would someone forge a will leaving everything to her? Nicole frowned in the dark. Who would have anything to gain? How was it that her grandmother had left her everything she owned when her own lawyer hadn’t even known of Nicole’s existence? The only person who had was Michael, the only living witness to the first will.

Calm down, Nicole. You’ve got to face facts. It’s time you opened your eyes to everything that’s going on around here. Michael himself told you that, at Grandmother’s request, he investigated you, and no one knew about it, not even Cecilia or Jake.
Michael had made Nicole promise not to tell anyone. Why was it so important to keep the secret now, after Grandmother’s death?

Michael had told her that he and her grandmother had ongoing business deals. Ellis had also told her the same story
. All right, Nicole, if you’re so anxious to be independent and businesslike, start now—who profited?
Not Ellis. His position was the same, no matter who inherited. But Michael, if he married her, could bring about the coveted merging of their properties and the only person who stood to gain. What did she know about him, really?

She didn’t want to believe that Michael could be involved, or worse, that he’d orchestrated her life for his gain. Her heart cried. Not Michael. But she believed it, believed he’d betrayed her. First Greg, and now Michael.
Face it, you’re a lousy judge of men
.

Once again, the sound of footsteps on the stairs penetrated her thoughts. Lucia? But the quiet, unhurried breathing was still coming from the next room. Chester? These footsteps had a crisp assurance about them. Somewhere, a door closed. 

More footsteps! Determined ones this time, the kind that would not easily be stopped. Nicole could imagine those ruthless feet treading on anything that got in their way. They broke off suddenly.

Who were these people? What were they doing here? Seemed like four, or maybe five, pairs of distinct footsteps. Michael had said he’d be around when Nicole needed him, which would be now, but she no longer trusted him. Fear spread up her spine, her legs going weak.

Then, in a state of disbelief, she heard Michael’s voice through the intercom. “You’ll do as I say,” he said in a cold, ruthless voice, a tone Nicole had never before heard him use. “Get her out of here, and do it now.”

“But—” began another voice that she recognized as belonging to Zander Farrell.

“I don’t care if you have to tie her up, just get her out. Hurry up, we don’t have much time,” Michael hissed.

She was too heartsick to be frightened. This couldn’t be happening. So Michael had been involved all along. Michael and Zander must have staged that scene on the road to throw her off balance. No wonder he’d seemed so unconcerned when Zander got away, and no wonder he hadn’t wanted to call the police. He wouldn’t turn his own partner in.

She took a deep breath, trying to muster up courage she didn’t feel. She knew she had to act quickly and remain calm. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, groped her way silently in the dark to the closet, dressed hastily in her comfortable sweats, and shoved her feet into tennis shoes. She fumbled around, finding her purse on a chair, and slipped the car keys into her pocket, then shoved her cell phone into her other pocket, even though she’d forgotten to charge the damn thing.

She made her way cautiously to the door and unlocked it quietly, putting her hand on the doorknob. Cold fear swept through her when she felt the knob turn under her fingers. She reached for the lock but was a second too late. The door slowly moved inward. Silently, Nicole stepped backwards until, pushing her back against the wall, she could go no farther.

“…if you have to tie her up…”
Michael’s words echoed through her head.

The door opened wider. Someone stepped into the room with her; she could feel their presence and hear their even breathing. She held her breath and, hearing no sound of movement, peered through the darkness. The intruder stood in the middle of the room. Then a movement, so light she’d never have heard it if her every sense had not been alert. The shadowy figure was walking slowly toward the bed.

Nicole kept one hand against the wall, ears straining, lips parted. Carefully, she timed her own steps, moving only when the shadow moved. Each time it took a step toward the bed, she took a step around the door. And then another. She could feel cold air on her ankles from the open door. A whisper of cloth brushing against cloth as the intruder reached the bed, groping the sheets.

With a whisk of movement, Nicole escaped through the door and raced down the stairs. She ran toward the front door, praying the deadbolt had been left undone.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs after her. Almost at the front door, out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone dash behind the door leading to the dining room. She was trapped. Nowhere to go. With a silent cry, Nicole turned and headed for the library. She ducked inside and silently closed the door behind her. In the dark, she groped her way across the room toward the long windows that opened out onto the terrace. A muffled noise came from the hall, the sound of men fighting. More feet clattered down the stairs. Had the world gone crazy?

The door to the hall opened and closed again. Someone entered the library and stood quietly.

Outside, there was a shout. “They both got away.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Not through the front door. I never left it unguarded.”

Voices she didn’t recognize. Somewhere in the room, a floorboard creaked. Nicole dropped behind a chair. Another board creaked, this one closer to her.

Now I know how an animal feels when it’s being stalked.

On hands and knees, she crawled backward, still sheltered by the broad back of the chair. Something brushed her ankles, and she smothered a scream before realizing it was just the drapes.

People were running now. “I’ve got the back covered. Turn on the lights.”

Nicole opened her mouth to scream for help but thought better of it and pressed her hand over her mouth. How did she know that whoever it was would come to her rescue?

“…tie her up…”
The words echoed over and over in her mind.

She slunk behind the drapes and pulled herself slowly to her feet. She reached for the catch of the door, hoping the click wouldn’t betray her presence. She just needed to pry it open far enough to slip out without getting caught. 

Suddenly, the library door blew open with a bang and the lights came on. There was more shouting, then the sound of fighting, men stumbling, a woman screaming, people bumping into furniture, blows exchanged, and heavy breathing.

Cautiously, Nicole opened the draperies a crack. The room was full of people. Her eyes focused on the scene in the middle of the room: Jake was holding Ellis at gunpoint and Katrina was struggling in Michael’s arms, yelling, “Now we can have it all, sweetheart.”

Michael had done all this for Katrina? The pain of her disillusionment unbearable, Nicole jerked back, losing her footing. She stumbled backward through the open French door, her knees crumpling. She hit her head on the concrete and fell into darkness.

~ ~ ~

Nicole drifted in and out of a state of delirium that would later make it difficult to know what had been real and what had been the mad pictures of a feverish mind.

There were lights, loud voices, and men arguing. Someone sobbing. There were arms that lifted her from the ground and laid her on the couch. Faces she expected to see: Chester and Rena, Ellis and Jake. And faces that surprised her: Lucia crying on Zander’s shoulder, Michael and Katrina huddled together.

As she drifted off, happy to escape her throbbing head, she felt a rocking movement and heard the sound of a motor.
I’m being taken somewhere. I’m being kidnapped.
 

   

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

THE FEEL OF warm sunlight on her face awakened Nicole. She moved her head restlessly to avoid the glare, her eyes popping open at the sudden sharp pain that assailed her when she moved her head. She looked around the room, which had a Caribbean island feel, with pale blue walls and doors opened onto a slew of planters filled with plumeria and other tropical flowers. The tantalizing scent of coffee and freshly baked muffins made Nicole turn her head.

“So you’ve decided to come back to us,” said a laughing voice.

“Cecilia!” Nicole exclaimed in bewilderment, wincing when her head throbbed again.  “Aspirin,” she squeaked.

Cecilia set the breakfast tray she was holding on the bed, opened a drawer, and took out a bottle, from which she handed Nicole two pills. “I want you to sit up and eat some of this breakfast. Doctor’s orders. While you eat, I’ll talk. If you don’t eat, I won’t talk. Those were my orders.”

“Doctor’s orders?” Nicole asked slowly, as memories flooded her.

“Yes. He said you needed to eat and rest to get your strength back.” Cecilia smiled down at Nicole as she poured the coffee. “Michael will be disappointed he wasn’t here when you opened your eyes.”

Wherever Michael was, Nicole needed to get dressed and leave before he showed up again. She didn’t want to be the one to tell Cecilia that she didn’t know her brother at all.

“Now then,” Cecilia said, pulling a chair close to the bed. “I’m sure you must have a million questions. I know I would. You look a lot better this morning, by the way. When Michael carried you into the house unconscious last night, we were worried sick. Michael called the doctor immediately from your house, and he checked you over there. He said you’d be all right––no serious harm done––and gave his okay to move you to our place to get plenty of food and rest. He followed us back and made sure you were settled.”

Nicole blinked in bewilderment. She sipped the coffee, her stomach letting her know loudly that it would like some food. She picked at an apple muffin.

“You probably don’t remember much of what happened,” Cecilia went on. “I promise you that no one is going to bother you ever again. Chester and Ellis are under arrest and so is Katrina.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look out!” Cecilia jumped up and rescued the coffee pot that was rocking precariously on the tray. “Yes, Ellis. Don’t make any more of those wild leaps, Nicole, or you’ll drown in hot coffee.” She moved the pot to a side table.

“Please keep talking,” Nicole urged, “before I go out of my mind. Ellis Sadler?”

Cecilia laughed and then sobered. “I know. I was as flabbergasted as you are when I heard the story. Michael’s the one who put all the pieces together. We should wait for him; he had to go make another statement to the police. You know he sat by your bedside all night?”

Nicole shook her head.
Why would he do that? He probably wanted to know what she remembered before she had the chance to talk to someone else.

“The doctor said you could have a bath, but no shower. How does that sound?” Cecilia jumped up. “Ava brought over some clothes for you this morning.”

At the sound of the door opening, Nicole looked up to see Michael standing there, a huge smile on his face. He covered the space to the bed in a few steps and ran his fingers down her cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up.”

She felt tongue-tied, unsure of what to say.

“How’s your head feeling?”

They stared at one another. “A little bit of a headache,” she said finally.

Cecilia cleared her throat. “I was just going to help her into the bathroom for a bath.”

Michael turned slightly. “Has she eaten?”

“One bite of muffin.” Cecilia sighed.

“Thank you, Cecilia. After she’s done bathing, I’ll call down for breakfast.” He inclined his head toward the door.

Cecilia had clearly been dismissed, and both women blushed crimson.

As soon as the door closed, Michael sat on the edge of the bed and drew Nicole into his arms. “You could’ve died.” He pressed his mouth to hers, lingering, his tongue sliding over her lips and tracing them, so sweet and gentle. She pushed away all reason and allowed herself to savor what he offered. He kissed a trail along her cheek, and his tongue flicked her outer ear, making her shiver. “Do not move. I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and she heard water running. The thought of a nice hot shower made her sit up, and she stifled a groan as she flung her legs over the side of the bed. Nicole stood, swaying on her unsteady feet and hoping the room would come into clear focus and stop moving.

Michael raced across the room. “Did you listen to one word I said about staying put?”

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