“Let me get this straight.” He hunched forward, gripping his knees. “You and Marissa were in a race to get married to get your hands on Columbella?”
“Sort of.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “It’s not like we were going to be cut off from our inheritance if we didn’t get married, it’s just that the first to marry got the house.”
He snorted and collapsed back in his chair. “Draconian. Is that why Marissa hooked up with that stick Tyler Davis?”
“Yep—the only reason. When I heard about their engagement, I rushed back here and, and…” She flopped back on the bed, allowing her hair to sweep across her hot face.
She heard a rustle and then the mattress dipped. Dylan’s low voice reverberated close to her ear. “Mia St. Regis, are you telling me you brought your boy toy Raoul to Coral Cove to tempt your sister away from marriage with Tyler Davis?”
“Umm, maybe.”
He hooked a finger around several strands of hair and pulled them aside like a curtain. “You’re unbelievable.”
She sat up, almost bumping her head against his chin. “I had to, Dylan. You knew Marissa. She had no feeling for the old place. If she’d have gotten her hands on it, she’d have auctioned off Columbella House to the highest bidder.”
“Instead of allowing it to fall into disrepair?”
Her face got even hotter and she dropped her chin to her chest. “I never meant for that to happen. It’s just that after everything—Marissa running off and disappearing and my hasty marriage to Peter—it turned out to be a hollow victory.”
“I could’ve told you that.”
“But you weren’t around then.” And if he had been? Would she have taken a chance and suggested marriage to her old friend? No. Dylan had too much honor for that.
She puffed out her cheeks and expelled a long sigh. “I don’t expect you to understand. You’d never do anything to compromise your standards.”
Dylan tensed and shifted away from her. “I’m not judging you, Mia. I know that house meant a lot to you at one time, and yes, Marissa would’ve sold it faster than she would’ve cheated on Tyler.”
She spread her hands. “Anyway, that’s my sordid tale. After Marissa ran off with Raoul, ending her engagement to Tyler, I rushed back to New York and made my proposal to Peter. He agreed, and the rest is history.”
“Except Peter is no longer happy with the deal he inked.”
“Exactly.”
“And your twin took off to live the good life with Raoul.”
Mia clamped her bottom lip between her teeth and stared out the hotel window into the darkness.
“Mia?” Dylan touched her hand and she jumped. “What’s wrong? Did Marissa find out you’d tricked her, and decided to hold a grudge?”
“I don’t know.” Her nose stung and she rubbed it with the back of her hand. “I haven’t heard from Marissa since she left.”
His dark brows snapped together. “She cut you out of her life completely? I know you two were never close, especially for twins, but that seems harsh.”
“Oh, she sent several postcards, but no phone calls, no emails.”
“Were the postcards nasty?”
“Not really. She never mentioned my scheme. I’ve tried searching for her online, and I hired a private investigator a few years ago. He took my money and came up empty. I’ve even tried to find Raoul, but it seems he went back to Brazil. I assumed Marissa went with him.”
“That’s strange. Marissa had a lot of faults, but holding grudges didn’t seem to be among them.”
Your sister is dead.
Could she open up to Dylan? When couldn’t she? In the old days, she’d been open with Dylan with just about everything except her true feelings for him.
She raked her hair back with her fingers. “It is strange, isn’t it? And what’s stranger… Did your sister ever tell you she’d found a diary belonging to Marissa a few months ago when she was in Coral Cove with her son?”
Two red spots colored Dylan’s cheekbones. “No. I wasn’t in touch with Devon at that time. I’m just glad Kieran Roarke had come back from the dead in time to help her and Michael.”
Mia tilted her head. Dylan and Devon had always been the close twins in town. “Well, she did find Marissa’s diary, but before she had a chance to read it or send it to me, it disappeared. And before that, Michelle Girard contacted me about a bracelet she found at Columbella. Michelle’s mother used to make them, and Marissa had one she rarely removed.”
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her blood pumping now, she sat forward. “And finally, Kylie Grant, you know, Rosie the fortune-teller’s daughter, she sent me an email that said—”
She choked to a stop. This all sounded crazy. Only bad things had come out of her desire to own Columbella House, and now she was just projecting more guilt on to herself.
Dylan ran a strong, warm hand up her back. “What did the email say?”
“‘Your sister is dead.’”
“That’s a nice email to send someone, a crazy email.” He lightly clasped her neck and circled his thumb against her skin.
“That’s not all she wrote in the email. Kylie was here on a case. She works for the FBI and police departments sometimes to help find missing people. While she was—” she waved her hands in the air “—in some kind of trance or something, she felt that Marissa was dead.”
“And you believe that mumbo jumbo?”
“Not usually, but Kylie did find that girl who had gone missing from the Coral Cove Music Festival a few years ago.”
“That happened right before I got here, and Kylie didn’t exactly find the woman. The woman’s killer led Kylie to where he’d stashed the body with the intent of doing the same thing to her.”
“He’d stashed the body in the walls of Columbella House.” Mia shivered and clenched her teeth.
Dylan draped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her snug against his body. “I can have my buddy locate Marissa. He’s a P.I. In fact, he worked the case with Kylie. Matt Conner, do you remember him?”
She nodded, trying not to press her body against his solid frame and soak up all his warmth. She turned her head, dangerously close to finding his shoulder again, and her gaze collided with a wavy blue line from a tattoo peeking from the long sleeve of his shirt.
She traced the swirl with the tip of her finger and he winced as if in pain. “When did you get this?”
“A few years ago.”
She shoved his sleeve
