it isn’t necessary for you to cook for us. We aren’t paying guests here, so we aren’t your responsibility.”
“I really don’t mind, and besides, it keeps me busy. I’ll go crazy with nothing to do around here,” she protested.
He leaned against the sofa back, seeming to shrink the size of the piece of furniture—and the entire room—with his presence. “Pamela Winters is not a fan of yours.”
Marlena couldn’t help the short burst of laughter that escaped her at his understatement. “Pamela Winters hates my guts.”
“Why is that?”
Marlena rocked several times, the squeak of the chair the only noise in the room as she thought of the dark-haired woman who worked as the head housekeeper.
Marlena finally stopped her movement and focused on the man asking the questions. “I think Pamela thought she was going to become the manager once Daniella decided to give up some of the reins of the daily running of the place. Unfortunately, when I arrived here, penniless and with no place else to go, Daniella not only took me under her wing, but she instantly appointed me manager. I don’t blame Pamela for feeling betrayed, but somehow her anger has been pointed at me. We’re civil with each other, but she’s made it clear she doesn’t want to be my friend.”
“She thinks maybe you had something to do with the disappearances because you might be named a beneficiary in Sam’s and Daniella’s wills.”
Marlena gasped, and then laughed again. “That’s ridiculous.” Her laughter died, and she began to rock back and forth with a sense of both outrage and fear. “First of all, I refuse to believe that they’re dead, and I’ll repeat again, I had absolutely nothing to do with their disappearance. Second, they would have never made me a beneficiary. Daniella knew this was just a stopping place for me and Cory, that it was temporary until we gathered our resources to get on with our lives, and that we were planning on leaving soon.”
“Get on with your lives? What does that mean?”
She was aware of the piercing quality of his eyes and the simmer of some indefinable energy between them. “My goal was never to be a manager of a bed-and-breakfast. Cory and I are planning to eventually move to a bigger city where I can get a teaching degree, and he can get some sort of technical training. I want the house and the dog, the husband and the children. Daniella and Sam knew that this job was just temporary for me, that I had different dreams than staying here in Bachelor Moon. Are you married?”
“No, and have no intention of joining the ranks of the married set. I like living alone. I wouldn’t do marriage well, so there’s no point in trying it.” He stood suddenly. “I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before I came in.”
She got out of the rocking chair and followed him to the door. “Actually, I’m thinking of taking a little walk. I could use some fresh air.”
“Then I’ll just say good night.” Gabriel gave her a curt nod and left, heading back through the kitchen and dining room toward the stairs to his room.
Marlena left her room and stepped through the kitchen door that led outside. She breathed deeply of the humid, floral-scented air. Darkness had fallen, but a full moon shone overhead, easily lighting the path that led around the pond.
Her head ached with all the questions, the fears, the utter horror of the past twenty-four hours. What had happened to Sam and Daniella and Macy? It was as if an alien spaceship had shot down a beam that had instantly drawn them up and out of the house, leaving no identifying clues behind.
She couldn’t imagine who might want to hurt the Connellys. They were respected, warm and giving to both their guests and the community of Bachelor Moon. Daniella served on a half dozen charity committees, and Sam was the man people called on when they were in trouble or needed something done. Macy was everyone’s delight with her sassy attitude and sweet, loving heart.
As she neared the area where the walkway came closest to the pond, a chorus of bullfrogs sang a deep-throated tune and a faint splash indicated that the fish were jumping.
It was a beautiful night, and yet all was wrong with the world. Tears burned at her eyes as she thought of the people she loved, people who were missing without any apparent reason.
The path she followed stopped abruptly at the far end of the pond. A trail led off to John’s little cabin but a sign indicated that guests weren’t allowed on the narrow path.
She turned and started back the way she had come. Her thoughts shifted to the man in charge of the case: Gabriel Blankenship.
She was both drawn to and repelled by him at the same time. His intensity nearly stole her breath away. Something about him made her pulse pound a little harder, her heart race a little faster. She recognized it as some sort of strange attraction, but he was certainly the last man she’d want any kind of relationship with.
He was here to do a job, and when the job was done, he would be gone. He’d just told her that he wasn’t the marrying type, and marriage was definitely on her wish list. She’d thought that was where she was headed with Gary Holzman when she’d lived in Chicago, but that dream had exploded and she’d wound up here with nothing but a beat-up car spewing fumes, a suitcase full of clothes and Cory.
She’d just about reached the part of the walkway that was closest to the pond’s edge when the sound of rustling in the brush behind her stopped the bullfrog’s song.
She had no chance to turn, no time to process that danger was coming before she was shoved from behind with enough force that she flew forward and was weightless for an instant—airborne—and then she plunged into the pond.
Headfirst she went down...down, with no idea how to get up.
Chapter Three
Although it was relatively early, after the short night before, Gabriel had told both Jackson and Andrew to head to bed and get a good night’s sleep, as he intended to do himself. He was certain the next day would be a long one, and he wanted them all to start out rested.
He stripped down to a pair of boxers and then opened the window, despite the air-conditioning that kept the room cool and pleasant. Since the age of seven, Gabriel had always kept his bedroom window open, never knowing when he might need to make a hasty escape from a raging drunken father.
Certainly more than once throughout his childhood, he’d used the window to flee the wrath of George Blankenship. Like Marlena’s, Gabriel’s mother had abandoned him and his father when Gabriel had been seven. She’d left him in the hands of a brutal man who’d either beaten him half to death for unclear reasons or ignored him until Gabriel was old enough to exit and never look back.
He’d lived on the streets, worked a hundred different jobs, and waffled between a life of crime and a life of investigating crimes. He’d finally managed to make his way through college with a criminal justice degree and a minor in psychology, and that’s when the FBI had brought him in as a profiler.
He loved his job and he was good at it, but this particular case already had him frustrated by the lack of leads. The bank records had shown no red flags either in the personal or business finances. The email accounts showed no threats or unusual activity. So far he and his team hadn’t spoken to anybody who didn’t admire or like the family.
Granted, they were still in
