The Secret Heiress. Terri Reed

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The Secret Heiress - Terri Reed Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense

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I’m not.”

       “What sickness do you have?” Don asked.

       “Addison’s disease. Or so the doctor claims.” His bushy gray eyebrows drew together. “No one believes me that there’s more to it than that.”

       Don exchanged a dubious glance with Caroline.

       “What is Addison’s?” Caroline asked.

       “My adrenal glands aren’t producing enough of their hormones, allowing my immune system to attack the glands. But Addison’s can be controlled with medication. I should be getting better, and instead…” He gestured around him.

       “Have you sought a second opinion?” she asked.

       “Dr. Reese is the only doctor around. I’ve asked to have a doctor from Jackson come in. Samuel said he’d see to it after the holidays. I might not make it that long.”

       “Why not go to the nearest hospital?” Don asked.

       Elijah frowned with frustration. “I don’t like hospitals. The doctor can come to me. But no one will call him.”

       “Why do you think someone wants you dead?” Don pressed, unsure what to believe, but needing answers so he could keep Caroline safe.

       The old man snorted beneath his breath. “Greed, why else? Once I’m gone—” He paused as a spasm of pain twisted his wrinkled face.

       Don’s thoughts turned to Samuel Maddox. Caroline’s uncle, Isabella’s brother. Don might not have a background in investigative work, but he knew the first rule—follow the money. Was Samuel the one behind the attempt on Caroline’s life and his father’s? He had the most to gain and the most to lose. “You named Caroline as a coheir in your will. I assume your son, Samuel, is the other heir.”

       “Yes. I’ve made provisions for his family of course, and the staff. But Samuel and Isabella’s child are my heirs.”

       He searched Caroline’s face. “You look so much like Isabella. When you walked in, I thought I was seeing her again.”

       Caroline blinked. “I do?”

       The wistful note in her tone brought an ache to Don’s chest.

       “Where is she buried?” Caroline asked.

       Elijah dropped his gaze. Anguish washed over his face. “Fayette Cemetery. In the family plot next to her mother.”

       “Can you tell us what happened to her?” Don asked. Though he’d read the brief report the NOPD sent to Trent, he wanted to learn what the family knew.

       Torment filled the old man’s face. “Murdered. My baby was murdered.”

       Blunt force trauma to the back of the head. The weapon used had been the base of a brass table lamp. The police found no fingerprints in the apartment other than Isabella’s suggesting the killer had worn gloves.

       The heartbreak on Caroline’s face twisted Don’s insides into knots. A fat tear rolled slowly down her cheek, leaving a wet trail. Don fought the urge to pull her close and soothe away her tears. A real fiancé would. But he wasn’t her fiancé. Not even close.

       A clap of thunder exploded in the charged silence. Don flinched, the sound triggering old terrors, old memories. Caroline reached for his hand and held on tight. The warmth of her touch grounded him in the moment and made him feel needed as a man, not just as a bodyguard.

       Oh, brother, he was treading in deep water here.

       “The police said it was a burglary gone bad,” Elijah said. His brow furrowed. “Except…”

       “Except?” Don probed. The police report stated there were jewelry and other items missing, leading them to suspect robbery as the motive.

       “The lead detective told me there was no forced entry.”

       A cold knot of apprehension fisted in Don’s gut. Isabella Maddox had opened the door to her killer. A far different situation than a random intruder. That wasn’t in the report he’d read. Something wasn’t right about Isabella Maddox’s murder. But he wasn’t an investigator nor was it his job to solve a cold case. His sole intent was to protect Caroline.

       “Does that mean she knew her attacker?” Shock reverberated in Caroline’s voice.

       “Maybe. It could have been someone delivering something or a repair man. But whichever the case, it wasn’t random.” She’d been targeted. Like Caroline. But was Isabella’s death related to the threat against Caroline? This situation kept getting more complicated every minute.

       “When was she…killed?” Caroline’s voice was barely above a whisper.

       “October 20, twenty-seven years ago.”

       Caroline made a strangled sound. “I was born September 30.”

       She leaned into Don as if her legs suddenly couldn’t support her. The need to protect rose sharply. Only this wasn’t a physical threat, but an emotional one. Don was out of his comfort zone. The best he could do was to remove her from the situation, allow her time to come to terms with the information she’d learned of her birth mother’s death and try to talk her into leaving—hiding somewhere until the police found the person who had tried to kill her. He let go of her hand, took her by the shoulders and steered her toward the door.

       She went willingly but as they reached the threshold she stopped abruptly. “He’s in danger.”

       “It could be the ravings of a dying man,” Don insisted in a low voice.

       Caroline wiped at her tears. “We have to find out for sure.”

       “No, we should leave now before the storm gets any worse.”

       Proud and beautiful, she held his gaze, her chin at a defiant angle, her shoulders squared. “Gorgeous” wouldn’t be swayed. “I’m not leaving until I know what’s going on. If someone is hurting him then it’s up to us to stop it.”

       Determined. Stubborn. And courageous. A potent mix that could get her killed. Respect for this gutsy lady grew even as he prepared to counter any argument. “If a crime is being committed, it’s up to the police to stop it. You’re not any safer here than he is. Remember, someone tried to kill you. That person could be in this house.”

       “Of course I’m safe. I have you.”

       Her confidence in his abilities sent pleasure curling through his system. He hoped he lived up to her expectations.

       Her gaze shifted back toward her grandfather. “He needs protection. If what he claims is true, then he must be a victim of the same person who has been attacking me.” The plea in her eyes tugged at Don. “Please, we have to help him.”

       Don lifted a hand to capture one last stray tear that fell from her lovely amber eyes. “You have such a tender and stubborn heart.”

       A smile touched her lips and pleasure lit up her eyes. “Does that mean we’ll stay? You’ll protect both of us?”

      

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