and one that she and Daniella had turned into a storage room.
The sitting room was relatively plain—a sofa, a rocking chair and a television. There were no knickknacks or trinkets to mark the space as hers. She’d traveled light through life, with her brother the only thing of importance to her.
Gabriel stepped into the room, and it instantly seemed to shrink in size. She became aware of his scent, a faint but pleasant woodsy cologne.
His blue eyes narrowed and a frown furrowed his brow as he took in the immediate surroundings. He glanced into the storage room and then stood in her bedroom doorway, his back a broad mountain in front of her.
Thank goodness there were no silk panties sneaking over the top of an open drawer, no lacy bra hanging from a doorknob. Marlena was definitely grateful at the moment that she was a neat freak.
He whirled around to gaze at her speculatively. “You were asleep right here, and you didn’t hear anything in the kitchen that caused you concern last night?” His deep voice was rife with disbelief.
“I get up at the crack of dawn, work hard during the day and I sleep hard at night. I’ve always been a deep, heavy sleeper, and unless somebody screamed, I probably wouldn’t have awakened.” She raised her chin a notch.
“So you don’t think anyone screamed.”
She hesitated a moment and then shook her head. “I can’t be positive, but I’m relatively sure that a scream would have pulled me from my sleep.”
He held her gaze, and she fought the impulse to squirm. It was as if his piercing blue eyes attempted to crawl inside her head, look into her soul, and she realized at that moment that she was his number-one suspect in whatever had happened to the family she loved.
Chapter Two
Gabriel woke at dawn, smothered in lavender sheets and a bedspread, pulled from an erotic dream involving himself and his number-one suspect.
Not a good way to start a new day, he thought as he got out of bed and padded into the adjoining bathroom. Minutes later he stood beneath a needle-hot shower spray, trying to burn out the memory of his unusually hot dream.
Marlena Meyer’s long silky legs had been entangled with his as they’d kissed and caressed each other. Her green eyes had glowed with a hunger that had made him want to satisfy her. Thankfully he had awakened at that moment.
It had been a short night of sleep. He’d insisted Marlena get her brother and John, the gardener, last night and get them to the house to be interviewed.
The interviews had lasted for several hours, and after a search of the basement and all other areas of the house, it had been around three o’clock in the morning when Gabriel had finally crawled into bed.
Andrew and Jackson had finished processing the kitchen. They’d found hundreds of fingerprints, probably mostly those of the family and the staff. Interestingly enough, the door and frame had apparently been wiped clean, as not a single print had been found there.
There was no question in his mind that the family had not gone willingly with whomever had walked through that back door. The real question was why had they been taken, and how had somebody managed to corral three people and take them away without Marlena in the next room hearing anything?
Other than the overturned chair, there were no signs of a struggle, no indication that anything violent had occurred in the kitchen.
Thank God he and his men had packed bags to be gone for a couple of days, for he had a feeling this wasn’t going to be an easy one to solve.
Although his gut told him the Connelly family was either in deep trouble or already dead; the evidence didn’t automatically point to a crime taking place. All they had at the moment was circumstantial evidence that something had happened to the family.
He needed to check the financial records, both the personal ones for the Connellys and those of the bed-and-breakfast. Although unusual, the Connelly family wouldn’t be the first one to just up and walk away from their current life, leaving behind not only hundreds of questions but loved ones without any sense of closure.
The one thing that bothered Gabriel about this scenario was that he couldn’t imagine a former FBI agent walking away without his gun.
Gabriel stepped out of the shower, dried off and dressed in a fresh pair of slacks and another white shirt, and by that time he thought he smelled the faint scent of coffee drifting upstairs.
He checked his watch. It was just after six. Apparently Marlena had been telling him the truth when she’d told him she was up at the crack of dawn.
As he walked down the stairs toward the dining room, his thoughts were scattered on all the things that needed to be done in order to further investigate the disappearance. He carried his laptop, deciding that he’d work from the dining room rather than upstairs in the lavender room.
They had released the kitchen back to Marlena late last night, after they were sure that it had been checked from top to bottom for evidence. Photos had been taken, along with measurements and drawings, notes and impressions.
The coffee smell came from the dining room, and he spied the full pot on the sideboard, along with cups and saucers and all the accoutrements that anyone might need to doctor up a cup of java.
He placed his laptop on the table that had been set with plates and silverware for three and then bypassed the room and entered the kitchen, where Marlena stood with her back to him at the window. Apparently she didn’t hear him, and for a moment he said nothing to draw her attention as memories of his inappropriate dream drifted through his brain.
Again today she was dressed in a pair of shorts, denim ones that hugged her pert, shapely butt and showcased the length of her long legs.... Legs that he’d dreamed had been wrapped around his. An apple-green T-shirt topped the shorts, and he knew the color would make her eyes pop.
She turned suddenly, and a startled gasp escaped her. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“I just got here,” he replied.
“I’ve got biscuits in the oven and gravy ready to make.” She took several steps away from the window, and her gaze fell on the table. “I want to thank your agents for cleaning up in here.”
“The plates and glasses were bagged and tagged. All they cleaned up was the mess they’d made in fingerprinting.”
“Still, I appreciate it.” Her eyes were dark, as if in genuine pain as her gaze remained focused on the table. She finally glanced back at him. “There’s coffee in the dining room, and you just let me know when you want breakfast, or if you want something besides biscuits and gravy, and I’ll be glad to serve you in there.”
He nodded. “Biscuits and gravy sounds good, and after we eat, I’d like you to take me on a tour of the grounds.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded her assent. “I’ll have breakfast ready in about fifteen minutes.” She turned toward the stove as if to dismiss him.
He hesitated a moment and then returned to the dining room, where he helped himself to a cup of coffee and opened his laptop to begin work.
He
