jerked forward, but Helen swallowed her flush of panic. “I’m calling the police,” Helen said. “And you can explain it all to Chief Farraday.”
Kyle offered a careless nod. “You gotta hike to the peak to get a signal but go ahead. Farraday will understand. Simple mistake.”
Farraday will understand. Something in those words struck a note of alarm deep in her stomach. Almost like he knew how Farraday would react.
Sergio took her wrist. “We’re going. We’ll saddle up and ride out of here. I already texted your photo to a friend so if we don’t show up in perfect health back at the lodge, the photo will go to the cops and all over my friend’s social media sites. Farraday isn’t gonna like that, I’m guessing. You got me?”
Kyle didn’t acknowledge. He still cradled his gun as Sergio led Helen away. The sound of a round being racked into the chamber made her jerk, but Sergio continued to lead her. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she imagined a bullet plowing through her spine.
“And tell Farraday I want to talk to him,” Sergio tossed over his shoulder.
“Sure. Be careful on your way home,” Kyle called. “Driftwood isn’t the peaceful little town people think it is.”
Sergio turned back and Helen forced herself to as well, though her nerves were shouting at her to sprint away.
“Is that a threat?” Sergio said.
Kyle did not answer, so they continued on and retrieved the horses.
“Don’t stop until we’re clear,” Sergio said, bringing his horse into line behind hers.
It wasn’t until they’d returned to the gentle path that led onto lodge property that he brought his horse to a stop, black eyes sparking with fury. “You should have left like I told you.”
She stared right back. “You needed backup.”
“I didn’t need anything of the kind, and you shouldn’t have risked your safety.”
“I let Fiona down. I’m not going to make that same mistake with her brother.”
He blinked, looked away for a moment, muttering something, before he snapped his gaze back to her. “Let’s get something straight right now. I don’t want you or need you involved in this investigation. Am I clear?”
“Like crystal,” she said. “But you’re on my family property, riding my horse, and you’re here because I went to the police, so I’m already involved in this investigation and I don’t appreciate your tone.”
His eyes narrowed. “I...” Then he huffed out a breath and tipped his head to the sky. “I apologize.”
“Thank you.”
“But I want to handle this case by myself.”
“I understand, and I won’t go out of my way to annoy you, I promise.” She raised an eyebrow. “Did you really text a picture of that guy?”
He grinned. “Yep, but it probably didn’t go through anyway. Even so, I didn’t have time to write a proper text to send with it, so if it did work, Miss Betty is probably wondering what in the world she’s supposed to do with that photo.”
Helen laughed. “Poor Miss Betty.”
“No worries. The woman is made of tough stuff. She raised five boys.”
Helen’s limbs quivered, perhaps the delayed shock at what they’d just experienced.
His half smile faded, and he looked closely at her, causing warmth to climb into her cheeks. “You okay?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“You look shaky. It’s not every day you get fired at, and last night you got knocked down and your cabin set on fire.”
“I’m all right, just trying to figure out what’s going on here.”
“Me too. I plan to find out exactly why Farraday doesn’t want us in those tunnels and why he doesn’t seem to be inclined to treat my sister’s death as a murder.”
“Maybe she left some other clue in the cabin. I’ll...”
“No.” He slid from the horse and offered her a hand for her to dismount. “Like I said, Helen, I don’t need your help.”
No, he wouldn’t take any help from the woman who’d let his sister down. She flinched at the reminder; the flicker of bitterness in his expression told her that recent events aside, he had not changed his mind. She was to blame for Fiona’s death. End of story. Avoiding his touch, she slid off the horse and led her back to the corral. Sergio did the same with the gelding.
She was trying to decide how best to gracefully take her leave when the door of the cabin flew open and a petite dark-haired girl darted out, followed by an older woman with another child walking close beside. The woman had to be Betty, the nanny. She pushed her blue-rimmed glasses up her nose.
“These little darlings were making such ruckus at the hotel, I decided to check us out early and come over in a cab before the manager paid us a visit.”
Sergio scooped up the first child who made it to him and twirled her around, blowing a raspberry on her neck. “Hey, Laurel.”
The girl squealed until he put her down and she promptly ran to the fence to watch the horses, peering through the lower rails. Laurel’s twin hung back, her arms around Betty’s leg, sneaking a sidelong look at Helen and Sergio.
“Come on, Lulu,” Sergio said. “Don’t I get a hug from my sweet girl?”
His gentle tone surprised Helen as the child walked hesitantly to Sergio with Betty’s prompting. Sergio lifted Lucy slowly, much slower than he’d done with her sister, and embraced her. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
He touched her cheek. After a pause, Lucy spoke. “Hi, Daddy,” she whispered before sticking the middle fingers of one hand in her mouth.
The two words caused Sergio’s eyes to close in what appeared to be a combination of pain and pleasure as he cradled her to his chest. He must have felt Helen watching him and he looked her way. “She doesn’t talk much. Probably because she got saddled with me as a parental figure at a sensitive time in her life. It took me a while to get the hang of it.”
Saddled with Sergio, because Fiona had been run down. While Helen struggled to control the wild surge of grief and guilt, Betty spoke up.
“Lucy wouldn’t eat dinner last night, or breakfast this morning,” she said with a sigh. “She’s got to be about half starved.”
“Awww, Lulu,” he murmured to her. “You gotta eat, buttercup, even when I’m not there, okay?”
Lucy didn’t answer, just squeezed him tight, her free hands fingering his ears.
Helen fought a lump in her throat. “I’ll have breakfast brought over. What would they like to eat?”
“Oh,
