just the same.
She wondered vaguely if the electrical wiring had been modified or if the lights themselves had been changed in some way to ensure that the light wattage remained so low. Though her eyes were already beginning to adjust as Lowell had said they would, it was still too dark for her liking.
But she’d deal with it.
The main parlor was just as plain and beige as the rest of the rooms. Not that she had anything against beige, mind you. But this beige monotony was unbroken by anything other than wood floors and wood trim, all the color of rich, dark coffee, like the mahogany door on the front of the house. She considered that maybe white was too reflective and most other colors too dark, thus the selection of beige. Maybe she’d ask about that. Eventually.
Thankfully the parlor’s furnishings were more contemporary and slightly more colorful. There was another television set and a stereo system. Someone liked classical music, she decided, noting the stack of CDs. A desk and computer along with row after row of book-filled shelves occupied one side of the room. Like the rest of the house, the windows were shrouded in thick draperies—even they were beige. But at least this room looked used. The brown leather sofa looked worn and comfortable and was flanked by two plaid overstuffed side chairs.
As she strayed back into the hall a whiff of something absolutely heavenly enticed her nose and made her stomach rumble. She followed the delicious scent to the kitchen at the rear of the house.
“Whatever that is, it smells great,” she commented aloud.
Lowell glanced up from the oven. “Ten more minutes and you’ll find out.” He closed the door and laid the oven mitt aside. “It’s my own secret recipe.”
Blue smiled at the note of camaraderie in his tone. “Can’t wait.” She took in the kitchen in one sweep. Modern, but not so much that it took away from the house’s overall feel of a bygone era. “I think I’ll take a walk and get my bearings,” she announced, feeling restless and with a definite need to see the sun one last time before it disappeared for the day, leaving her to this gloom.
He nodded absently. “Don’t be long.”
Blue was careful to lock the front door behind her just as Lowell had instructed. Taking her time, she surveyed the grounds around the front of the house. The spirit bottles jangled as the breeze kicked up, drawing her attention or maybe warning her of some impending doom. She grinned and wondered if Lowell had done that, or maybe Mr. Drake under the cover of darkness just to spook the locals. But surely neither of them would be the superstitious type.
As she strolled around the house she was caught off guard again by the dark, foreboding forest that closed in on the yard from both sides. Trees, centuries old and laden with moss, towered over the thick brambles and undergrowth that cloaked all else. The distant rustle of leaves startled her, sent her backing up several steps. She executed a quick right face and marched to the backyard.
Pete’s sake, she was too old for this kind of childish behavior.
The moment she rounded the corner at the back of the house, her breath caught. The beach flowed right up to the grass, less than twenty yards from the house. The blue surf foamed white, roared and then died on the sand, dragging back only to start the whole process over again. All but a sliver of the sun had melted into the horizon, leaving vivid streaks of gold and orange to color the otherwise royal-blue sky. She closed her eyes and inhaled the salty air.
She wished she was barefoot as she walked through the sand, but she was on the job. She looked back at the house. God, it was beautiful. A wide screened porch had been added for enjoying the view of the Atlantic. A widow’s walk loomed high overhead. She wondered if anxious wives had used it as a lookout for their husbands returning from the sea. Or maybe the pirates and smugglers had benefited from the perfect vantage.
Blue was certain she’d never seen any place more beautiful.
Despite the darkness that lay within those walls, she couldn’t call this place unappealing. It was no wonder Mr. Drake had chosen this island, this house as his refuge.
She turned to look out over the ocean once more, chafing her arms to chase away the tremble that accompanied the knowledge that the sun was now completely gone.
She stalled mid-turn.
A thread of tension tightened inside her.
Someone was watching her.
Chapter Three
Blue stared up at the third-story tower room as the tension erupted into a shiver that raced across her skin. She braced herself against the sensation, but it didn’t help.
Someone was watching her.
Was it him?
Drake?
The last rays of the sun sank beneath the horizon, slinking away with the waning light and leaving nothing but the gray of desolate dusk as she stood on the beach and peered up at the house through the thickening gloom.
“I’m not so easy to spook, Drake,” she muttered. “So don’t be thinking you can be rid of me so simply.” Lowell had warned her that Drake didn’t want her here.
She would change his mind. Surely common sense would prevail. If the man’s life was in danger, he needed protection. His enemy could strike at any moment.
A crack ruptured the silence.
Blue recognized it instantly.
Gunshot. High-powered rifle.
The sand kicked up where the next round pierced it. She dove for cover. There was none.
Simultaneously unholstering her weapon and scrambling toward the edge of the forest, Blue kept her head low as yet another shot rang out and plowed into the ground less than three feet away.
A hunter, she considered.
Not open season if things on the island were consistent with those on the mainland.
The shots hadn’t come from the direction of the house. Not likely from Drake. At least she hoped liked hell it wasn’t him. Then again, he could be over the edge.
As soon as she’d reached the fringes of the forest, she stilled, listening for telltale sounds of the approaching shooter.
Silence.
Long minutes passed as she moved deeper into the concealing shadows of the forest, her ears ever alert for sound, her gaze moving constantly in search of movement. There was no time to think, only to act.
She needed to work her way around to the front of the house and then use the overgrown shrubs for cover to cross the lawn. Getting inside and checking on Drake was top priority.
He could be in danger.
This little game of carnival shooting gallery could be nothing more than a distraction to keep her occupied while the real trouble went down inside.
Lowell kept the house locked. That was good. But it wouldn’t stop an assassin intent on accomplishing his mission.
She kept moving, adrenaline urging her forward.
