him with an unapologetic attitude. “I...I don’t associate with my family very much since I left. I only keep in touch with my mother.”
“You could have told me that.” He studied the house. “Or at least who your mother really is.”
“And you would have immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
She was correct there. He would have jumped to the only conclusion and it wasn’t a good one. “I want the truth,” he snapped. “Now I doubt I’ll ever get it from you.”
“I gave you the truth,” she retorted. “I told you everything I knew, even about my ex-boyfriend. I was so afraid he’d done this I couldn’t bring myself to mention him at first. But I should have. If it’s him, I have to get out of here.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t know. Could he be the one? I can’t let him get away with killing my best friend.”
Blain could see the fear and concern in her dark eyes. He understood how abused women could spin a situation to justify why they always returned but he couldn’t understand why she hadn’t leveled with him to begin with since her best friend had been murdered. There was no returning to that.
He’d have to think this one through but right now, he had to make sure Rikki was safe. Keeping her alive meant he had to deal with the entire situation, whether he liked it or not.
Blain lifted his hand in the air. “He can’t hurt anyone inside the gates to this compound. I saw the cameras and I spotted an armed guard with a dog, too.”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “If Chad shows up here, they’ll probably kill him and then I’ll have that death on my hands, too.”
Blain grabbed her wrist. “What do you mean, too? Do you think your family killed Tessa?”
“No.” She gave him an imploring stare. “I was married once when I was around twenty. His last name was Allen. Drake Allen. But he died six months after we eloped.”
Blain let that tidbit of information sink in. That explained the last name she used. “How did he die?”
“An accident.” Lowering her head, she added, “Up on the road.”
“But you think your family took care of him?”
“I didn’t say that.” She opened the door and got out of the car, her attitude like a solid wall against him. She might have cut all ties to her powerful family, but blood always ran thicker than water. She wouldn’t rat anybody out.
Blain got out of the car and came around to meet her, some of his justified anger simmering into a slow boil. She didn’t have to say what had happened to her husband. He could see it all over her face. “So you blame yourself?”
“Yes.” She whirled and opened the back car door to get her stuff. “But my mother is innocent. She thinks Drake died in a car crash and he did. I’ve never been able to prove otherwise.”
Shoving one of the bags at him, she said, “So if you insist on going inside with me, you’d better keep quiet about what I just told you. As far as I know, over the last few years, my father has changed. He’s not the same man he used to be. He’s legitimate now.”
“Yeah, because he’s turned things over to your brothers.”
“I can’t speak to that since I don’t keep up with them. One is here, running the business and the other one in Europe. I told you I walked away a long time ago. I only came here to get away from Chad for a while and to be with my mother.” She stared up at the massive glass doors of the house where two evergreen wreaths hung side by side. “It is Christmas, after all.”
Blain couldn’t force her to tell him everything. Not yet, anyway. But now that he knew who she really was, things had taken on a whole new meaning. “I’ll get you safely inside to see your mother, but I strongly suggest you stay here. Don’t go anywhere, understand? I have to do some digging on Chad Presley and I want to go back over the details of your friend’s death. That means I might be back to ask you some more questions.”
“I’ll be right here,” she said. “I do have a few clients to meet with this week but I can do video conferences for now and change those appointments to later.”
“Much later,” Blain retorted. “Like after we find out who killed Tessa.”
“Then you’d better get to it.” She hurried toward the portico door on the side of the big house near the garage. Turning, she gave him a conflicted stare. “I’m not like them, Blain. I got away and created my own life, on my own terms.”
Blain saw the defiant expression behind that sincere statement. Maybe he should cut her some slack. But he wouldn’t do her any favors. He refused to look the other way like his dad had done all those years. “I sure hope that’s true. I’ll have someone bring your car out here once I think it’s safe to move it. Remember, don’t go anywhere for the next few days.”
She nodded, one hand on the brass door handle. “Thank you.” Then she glanced around and back into his eyes. “I appreciate all your help.”
“Doing my job,” he said. Then he took his time scoping the entire place before he got in his car and left.
* * *
Rikki entered the side door that opened into the butler’s pantry leading to the massive gourmet kitchen where her mother used to cook and entertain on a weekly basis. Those days were few and far between now that her mother had gotten sick. Her parents were probably lonely, but no one wanted to acknowledge that. Nor did anyone want to admit that soon they wouldn’t be able to live here alone. They both had failing health these days, according to Peggy’s reports to Rikki.
The last big event held here had been Rikki’s cousin Beatrice’s wedding back in the spring. Rikki had come home for the wedding but she’d gotten here a few minutes before the ceremony and even though her mother had begged her to stay, she’d left about thirty minutes into the reception. She and Chad had been fighting. Again.
That had been the last time she’d seen her mother happy and laughing. Sonia had always loved having people in her home. Her mother had left that afternoon for a European vacation.
A few days later, Rikki had received a call that her mother had taken ill while on a Mediterranean cruise and was sent to a hospital in Italy where her brother Victor was staying at the time. Rikki had gone over to see her mother, but Victor had already left the hospital. He obviously was too busy to even sit with his mother.
Rikki had stayed there until her mother was able to make the flight home to Florida, where Franco had met her with a private ambulance and an equally private nurse.
Now Rikki took her time walking through the long, spacious kitchen with the dark cabinets and the white marble countertops. The kitchen opened to a big dining area and a spacious den, complete with a fire in the enormous fireplace and comfy leather sofas and chairs scattered all around. High, wide windows looked out over a prime spot where Millbrook Lake met up with the big bay that would take boaters all the way out to the Gulf.
Rikki glanced out at the sloping yard down to the lake where a boathouse and her father’s yacht—the Sonia—sat moored to the big private dock. The pool glistened in the early morning light, the sun hitting the water with a brilliant clarity that Rikki could only
