Deadly Inheritance: A Romantic Suspense (2 page)

BOOK: Deadly Inheritance: A Romantic Suspense
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O’Brien rounded the corner of the desk and took a seat in the ergonomic, brown leather executive chair.

Nora squirmed to find a comfortable way to sit on the wooden seat without any unnecessary bruising of her tailbone.

“So,” he leaned back in his plush chair, “Franklin gave you that card? Why?”

For the first time in her life, Nora missed the dimpled charm of her Irish mother’s brother. “Mr. Leonard recommended I talk to you—hire you—for a couple of reasons.” She shifted again, but this time to retrieve the lawyer’s letter from her purse. Her fingers brushed the other envelope and jerked at the contact, remembering what lay within. She pulled out Frank’s note, reached across the desk, and handed it to him. “My uncle, Archie James, recently passed away. He was a client of Mr. Leonard’s, and that’s why he contacted me. I guess I’m one of the heirs.”

“You guess? I doubt Frank would have contacted you if he wasn’t sure.” He pulled the single sheet out of the envelope and read it with creased brows. The masculine strength in his face made her intensely aware of him, and she stared at the edge of his desk to hide her reaction.

His compelling gaze pulled at her, nonetheless, making her want to look up and stare at him.

She cleared her throat. “Okay, fine. I’m one of the
potential
heirs. My uncle was a little, uh, strange. His will contained certain conditions which Mr. Leonard found disturbing, in view of his death.”

“His death?” Gabriel O’Brien frowned.

“My uncle’s death. The coroner’s report indicated he was murdered—I don’t have any details. But there seems to be a question about whether he was murdered, or if he committed suicide.” When she saw him lean back, an exasperated expression on his face, she continued quickly, “He was shot, but no weapon was found. Which makes it difficult to see how it could have been suicide. And he left a will that set up certain conditions in the event that he was murdered.”

Wanting to get it over with, she withdrew the other letter from her purse and tossed it onto his desk.

“And this?” He waved the letter before sliding out the contents.

“I received that note the day after Mr. Leonard contacted me.”

“Don’t go,” he read out loud. “It isn’t worth your life.” He flipped it over and then studied the plain envelope.

Computer generated address label. No stamp. No postmark, just that suggestive smear of dried blood. Some sick nut had just shoved it into her mailbox the night before her appointment with Frank.

He studied her again and then pulled out a cell phone. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”

“Sure,” she half-stood, confused.

“I’ll be right back. Sit tight.” He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Nora stared at the desk and empty chair and wondered if she should just cut her losses and walk away.

No
. She’d promised Frank that she’d speak to Mr. O’Brien.

Her promises meant something. Besides, it would be rude to just leave. Although not as rude as getting up and making a phone call in the middle of a meeting. She sighed, wishing her promises didn’t bear such a strong resemblance to heavy-duty glue, keeping her stuck in situations that were destined to end badly.

And, her gut reminded her gleefully, stuck with trusting a man who seemed reluctant to help. Unfortunately, the letter suggested that she might need his assistance if she didn’t want her visit to her uncle’s house to prove fatal.

Chapter Two

Gabe selected Frank Leonard’s personal cell number and waited to connect.

Frank answered on the second ring. “What’s up, Gabe?” His voice sounded scratchy and distant, as if almost out of range of a cell tower.

“What’s the deal with this Nora James? Why send her to me?”

“Call it a favor.”

Lawyers like Frank lived by trading favors. Gabe shifted the phone to his other ear, irritated. “Favor?”

“She’s a nice kid, and she needs a little help.” Frank chuckled. “In fact, she’s my godchild. At one point, she even dated Kenny, despite my opinion that she was way too good for him.”

Gabe grunted. Frank’s last, wry statement was too true to be funny. Kenny Leonard might have been the lawyer’s son, but that was no excuse for the wasted idiot’s behavior. He’d managed to kill himself and cripple his father in a car accident that only happened because of poor judgment and a heavy foot on the accelerator.

Complete idiot
.

If Ms. James dated him, then her taste in men indicated questionable judgment. Too bad, because she was attractive, and any woman who would drive a beater like the one parked at the curb had to value practicality over appearances. That characteristic appealed to him. A lot.

He smiled before remembering the point of his phone call. “Why send her to me?”

“She’s walking in blind to a mess out at Autumn Hill, Archie James’ old place. James left a will in the event of an unnatural death that states his relatives have to stay in his house for two weeks in order to inherit. I have a bad feeling about the setup. A real bad feeling. The other cousins—four of them—have been in and out of that place over the years, but Nora James never had anything to do with them. I think her mother warned her about the James’ side of the family, or else she was just too smart to get mixed up with them. Anyway, something bad’s brewing—James was murdered—and the police are still investigating.”

“You suspect one of the other relatives?”

“I don’t know.” Despite his words, the hard edge in Frank’s voice made it clear that he suspected, or at least didn’t have much use for, Archie James’ relatives. “The last few years, James acted strangely. Secretive. I got the impression he didn’t trust his relatives. And then rumors started spreading that Autumn Hill was haunted. I could never figure out if he started the rumors as a joke, or if someone was messing with him.”

“If the police are already involved, what do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t expect you to solve the murder. Just keep Nora alive for the next two weeks so she can inherit her share of the estate. That’s all.”

“I’m not a babysitter. You know that.”

Frank laughed again. “I just want someone with her, someone she can trust. And you should fit in just fine. The cousins will accept you. You come across as a likeable guy. Amiable, even lazy. Completely harmless.”

“Lazy?” he asked with a dangerous calm.

“Or did I mean indolent?”

Silence. Gabe refused to rise to Frank’s bait.

For some reason, the lawyer enjoyed prodding him like a kid jabbing a stick into a fire ant mound. Maybe Leonard was jealous. Or he just liked living dangerously.

“And there you have it.” The lawyer’s voice shook with amusement. “The man who can scare the piss out of a room full of grown men without uttering a single a word. You’re perfect for this job.”

“You’re not scared.”

“No, I know you too well.”

“Don’t you think it a bit much to go to a family reunion as this woman’s bodyguard?”

“Yes. Which is why you’ll go in your ghost debunker persona. Investigate anything you want. That should satisfy everyone and prevent the cousins from questioning you too closely, no matter how crazy you get.” He paused and then said, “And I’d appreciate it if you acted as if we haven’t had this little conversation. I don’t want Nora to think I’m an interfering old fart arranging matters behind her back. She’s rather, uh, independent.”

Independent
—a nice, lawyerly term for arrogant and rude.

However, Nora didn’t seem rude, and after meeting her, Gabe felt intrigued. She didn’t seem bad-tempered, just off her game and a little lost. But there was the murder Frank mentioned. If the lawyer was nervous about the situation, then something was going on, something bad.

He’d be a heel to send her off, knowing that. Particularly after seeing that letter. The curved smear of blood on the envelope still bothered him, like a devil’s evil smile.

His frown slowly turned into a crooked grin. After this, he could turn the tables on Frank, and the lawyer would owe
him
.

So maybe the idea wasn’t all bad.

“God help me, I’ll do it,” Gabe said.

Frank hung up without another word, effectively preventing any second thoughts. Or a discussion about just how deep in Gabe’s debt Frank would be at the end of the two weeks.

As Gabe entered his office and sat down, he caught Nora’s questioning gaze. He smiled and nodded.

She flushed and continued as if there’d never been an interruption. “Personally, I think that note is from one of the other heirs, trying to make me stay away so he—or she—can inherit everything.” Her voice had a breathless quality that made him think the words had built up in her while he’d been out of the room. His reentrance had released the flood. She took a deep breath and shrugged with disdain, although her right hand trembled when she pushed her chocolate-colored hair back from her face. “But Mr. Leonard thought I should take it more seriously. You see, in order to inherit, the beneficiaries must arrive at Autumn Hill no more than three weeks from the date of my uncle’s death and must remain there for a minimum of two weeks. Mr. Leonard recommended you. He said you’re an investigator. My godfather—that is, Mr. Leonard—thought that no one would be able to stay there two weeks without being scared away. Autumn Hill is haunted or something.”

“Haunted?” Gabe stared into Nora’s deep brown eyes and found it difficult to remain completely disinterested.
She needed him.
He couldn’t ignore the hopeful plea in her gaze.

But he glanced away. He had too much on his plate right now. He shifted, aware of something more than just professional interest. She attracted him.

Well, he didn’t have time for entanglements. And most women didn’t like the fact that he traveled. A lot. So that meant arguments, cold shoulders, and ultimately, a lot of bruised feelings.

He almost sighed, unable to break the feeling that he had to help her.

She probably wouldn’t have been flattered by the comparison, but Nora reminded him of a sad, floppy-eared puppy with big brown eyes. The kind of scrawny, starving animal you had to pick up and take home because you couldn’t walk away and expect to get a good night’s sleep afterwards. The darned thing just sucked the heart right out of your chest.

The tension knotting his gut warned him, this was going to end badly.

“Apparently.” Nora nodded. “Autumn Hill is supposed to be haunted. Although my uncle certainly lived there—happily, I assume—for over sixty years. Anyway, I have to be there by the end of the week. And I have to stay for two weeks.” She paused to study his face, leaning forward anxiously.

He waved a hand for her to continue.

“So anyway, Mr. Leonard was worried, particularly after I received that letter. Personally, I think it’s people, not ghosts, haunting the place. In any event, he wanted me to hire you.” She patted her pockets and finally pulled out another envelope. Wriggling on her chair, she lifted the flap and peered inside for a second before flushing uncomfortably and extracting several bills. “My godfather—I mean, Mr. Leonard—gave me this. It’s my entire inheritance if I don’t go to Autumn Hill. He suggested I give you four thousand now, if you’ll accompany me and investigate what’s going on.” She counted out the money and stacked it in the center of his desk. Then she sat back and watched him, her brows rising in a hopeful, questioning expression.

Once more, he was reminded of a puppy wagging its tail and regarding him with cheerful optimism.

He rubbed his hand over his mouth to wipe away his smile. “If you’re scared, why not just take the money you’ve received and let it go? Why tempt fate?”

Emotions aside, the more he thought about it, the crazier the job seemed. Ms. James might be independent and self-sufficient, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t yell “Ghost!” and run screaming from every shadow darkening Autumn Hill’s hallways.

Maybe it would be best for everyone if he encouraged this particular puppy to trot away on her own.

His shoulder muscles tightened as he caught sight of the material on his desk. He had commitments. He should’ve told Frank that he’d agreed to undertake an art forgery investigation and was busy. He studied Nora’s face with its wide-set brown eyes, soft, pale skin, and the rounded curve of her chin that promised an equal measure of kindness and determination, and once more he felt the tug of responsibility. And desire.

It was only two weeks. Frank wouldn’t have set this up if he wasn’t nervous about the situation. Or just plain scared. And Frank, for all he looked like a mild-mannered Tweedle-dee, wasn’t that dumb. He certainly wasn’t easy to frighten.

Gabe leaned back and rested his left foot on his knee, unable to repress his irritation. The whole haunted house setup sounded too theatrical to take seriously. At least that part gave him something to investigate. He wouldn’t have to spend his time trailing around after Nora. And the case ought to be an easy job, especially with a down payment of four grand.

He suspected that was another part of Frank’s manipulation. Gabe would have to look into the will to be sure, but the money Nora had
inherited
was probably Frank’s.

Nora smiled ruefully at him and thumbed the few remaining bills in the envelope. “I’ve thought of not going, but…” She looked up at him, her eyes luminous with anxiety and the need for him to understand. “I have a project in mind, and this inheritance would at least get it off the ground. Even considering I’d be sharing my uncle’s fortune with the other cousins.”

Cousins
. One of whom was probably behind the ghosts at Autumn Hill, not to mention a murderer.

“Exactly how many others?” he asked.

“Four, I think. Mr. Leonard said there were five of us, total.”

“So you have a project—what is it?”

She sighed and glanced past his shoulder at the window.

He stifled the urge to follow her gaze and look outside. The monitor embedded in a recessed corner of his desk showed there was nothing out there except her colorful little car, but there was always the instinctive pull to imitate the actions of others. Particularly others as attractive as this woman.

He was aware—too aware—of all the small movements she made. She seemed to be struggling not to blush, and he almost smiled when she crossed and re-crossed her legs, swung her foot, and flipped her long, brown hair over her shoulder.

Her cheeks grew pinker, despite her distracting actions. “I don’t see why it’s important. It’s just something I want to do.” Clearly, she wasn’t prepared to talk about her personal project.

“Humor me.”

When she eyed him, he grinned.

Her blush grew deeper. She looked away and grabbed her hair, held it off her slender neck in a ponytail for a moment and then let the soft strands tumble down her back. “I don’t think it matters, but I’ll tell you if we can move on to something more germane afterward.”

He nodded and waited.

“I’m organizing a no-kill animal shelter.”

That explained the softness in her eyes. And if her personality was just as tender, then it was almost a guarantee that he’d be nurse-maiding a woman with the screaming meemies before the end of the first day.

He must have groaned aloud because she sat up straighter and uncrossed her legs. Her foot thudded on the floor. “I know what I’m doing—I’m a vet. I know only too well what’s involved. I’ve been working with a local shelter for over a year now. We desperately need to expand the facilities and do a few other things to make it tenable for long-term care. That inheritance will make all the difference in the world.”

“It won’t help if you don’t survive,” he said dryly, tapping the threatening note she’d received.

“That’s the point of coming here, isn’t it?”

“Look, I’m not a bodyguard. Frank should have explained that. Have you shown this to the police?”

She shook her head, dropping her gaze to her clasped hands.

“You should. Let them figure it out and solve your uncle’s death.” He smiled to make his comment seem less harsh. “I can, however, promise you that there aren’t any ghosts. You’re safe as far as that’s concerned.” He glanced down at the folder on his desk.

The tan file contained another case he needed to complete, along with a stack of others he hadn’t even had time to research. And then there was the art forgery one that had seemed so interesting.

Had
, that is, until he met Nora James. And while the cash on his desk was almost as attractive as she was, particularly when so many other clients kept promising to pay, but never actually did—as Frank well knew when he offered the bribe through the unsuspecting Nora—he didn’t want to lose two weeks chasing after spirits.

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