Holiday Illusion (7 page)

Anna nearly choked on the last bite of eggs she'd just put in her mouth. Okay, she wouldn't have guessed that one. “I'd love to see some of your products.”

Before Dahlia could answer, Thomas Bennett entered the room. Conversation immediately ceased and Dahlia's expression closed up just as quickly. He walked stiffly over to the end chair to seat himself without a word of greeting. Since no one seemed inclined to speak, Anna took the initiative. “Good morning, Mr. Bennett.”

“What's so good about it?”

Anna bit her lip. Had she made a faux pas? Lucas looked amused. She quirked a brow at him in silent communication. He shrugged.

“Well,” she drawled in answer to the man's sarcasm, “it's a beautiful day, and I'm alive to see it. That makes it a pretty good morning in my opinion.”

“Humph.”

Anna took another bite of egg and vowed to find a different place to stay—soon. She had enough stress in her life without adding to it.

“So, Anna is it?” the man asked haughtily.

“Oh, come off it, Father, you know the woman's name.” Lucas shot his father a disgusted look. “Just ignore him, Anna. It's an intimidation tactic, although why he feels the need to intimidate you, I've no idea.”

Anna cleared her throat. “Yes, it's Anna.”

“Who is your family?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your family? Are you from around here?”

“I was born in Rocking Wave Beach, the only child of only children.” She wasn't sure exactly what the man was after.

“And where did you go to school?”

“I went to Rocking Wave High then went to UCLA on a full academic scholarship and majored in Criminal Justice.”

“Really?” The look on his face said he was decidedly unimpressed. Anna refused to feel unworthy. Public school didn't measure up in his eyes, no doubt. And she definitely wasn't an Ivy Leaguer, though UCLA would impress most people.

“Yes, sir, really.” She took several bites of egg and drank a cup of juice before Lucas stood, determined to put an end to the awkwardness.

“Anna, why don't you bring a biscuit with you? I thought we'd take one of the boats out on the ocean.”

Godfrey looked startled. “A boat?”

“Yes, why? Is that a problem?”

“Um…er…no, it's just…after…well…” Godfrey trailed off, his eyes on Thomas, who now studied his food as though it contained the answers to every question he'd ever had.

Anna wondered at the sudden undercurrents. She flashed a questioning look to Lucas, who reached out and took her hand. He said to Godfrey, “It's all right. It'll be good therapy for me. Facing my past and all that.”

“What about Paulo?” Anna asked, concerned the boy might need her there, although, Lucas's comment about facing his past piqued her interest.

“I called about thirty minutes ago to check on him. Ella said that he ate a little breakfast and is looking forward to our visit, but for now, I want to show you something.”

Waving goodbye to her breakfast companions, she followed Lucas from the dining area out into the foyer. “What are we doing?”

“I want to take a boat ride.”

“I got that part. The question is, why?”

“I'll explain in a minute. Grab your jacket.”

Anna did as requested and, within minutes, they were walking down the path that led to the boathouse. As they neared the building, Lucas's steps faltered for a brief moment before he squared his shoulders as though approaching the boathouse equaled going into battle. “Lucas, could I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he said, but he never looked at her, just kept his eyes on the door to the boathouse.

“What's the deal with you and your father? Why is it so tense and formal between you guys?”

“Because I killed my brother.”

H
e blamed himself for Lance's death. As did their father.

“Excuse me?” She stepped in front of him, placing a hand in the middle of his chest to halt his forward progress. “You can't just drop that bomb and walk on. Explanation, please?”

Stopping before the door to the boathouse, Lucas felt the warmth of her hand through his shirt as he'd neglected to zip his coat. It distracted him just a bit, but he kept his focus on the door to the boathouse. Anna waved her other hand in front of his eyes. “Hello?”

“Three and a half years ago my brother and I were supposed to go out with Godfrey to a football game.” Anna fell silent and let him talk. He appreciated the gesture while taking in her concern. She was so beautiful, he wanted to…but not now. Gathering the memories in his mind, he decided it was time to face them…and settle them, once and for all, then maybe he and Anna…“Lance was quite a guy, the laid-back, carefree type. But he knew how to work our old man, stay in his good graces. Lance never let on the struggles he was facing…at least not until he started asking me for money.”

“What kind of struggles?”

“He was big into the party scene, he and Godfrey. Because of the Bennett name, they rolled with some of the big-shot celebrities, rock stars, politicians. You name it. If there was an invite, he was there. As a result, he got into drugs, alcohol, the whole nasty bit. Godfrey did, too, for a while there but cleaned himself up before Lance died.”

“But not you?”

“No.” He shrugged. “That kind of thing just never appealed to me. I sometimes went to the parties to keep Lance out of trouble, but overall, with med school and working to make it on my own, I never really had the time for it, even if I'd been interested.”

“Why did Godfrey react so strongly to you mentioning the boathouse?”

“Because this is where my brother was killed.”

Swallowing hard, she looked at the beautiful stone structure with navy-blue shingles. It looked so peaceful that trying to picture a death happening here seemed…wrong. “Oh. So, what happened?”

“Lance called me that night, asking to meet me here. He wouldn't tell me why, but I could tell he was either drunk or high. I called Godfrey and told him that Lance and I wouldn't be making the ball game. Godfrey was fine with that and I met Lance. He wanted money, of course. He'd gone through his entire month's allowance—which wasn't skimpy—and wanted me to give him more. He knew better than to go to our father. Father would have made him give an accounting of every penny.”

“Did you give him the money?”

“No—” he sucked in a deep breath “—and there's my quandary. I know he wanted the money for more drugs. If I'd given him the money, he might possibly still be alive although most likely still hooked on drugs. But at least he would be breathing, still have a chance to clean himself up. But because I didn't, he's dead.”

The memories surged one over the other like the waves beyond the dock. He quit fighting them and let them fill his mind. He told her the story as he relived it. “Lance was quite the smoker. He knew I hated it so I'm sure he lit up for my sake. To goad me, no doubt. You'd think he would have tried to brownnose me or something since he was asking for money. But not Lance. Oh, no. He had too much pride for that. I tried to talk him into going into rehab for his drug addiction, but he wouldn't have any part of it. He said some pretty nasty, hurtful things and I stormed out in disgust, told him to get it together or I'd tell Father what he was really doing with his money. This infuriated him and I'm sure that, as he was spewing his filth, the cigarette fell from his mouth. The investigators said it must have fallen into an open can of gasoline. I'm not sure I buy that, but since no one can know for sure what really happened, I guess it's as good an explanation as any. Anyway, one small explosion let to another and…” He shrugged, his shoulders slumped, losing their normally straight stance as though weighted down with a ton of bricks.

“I was about twenty feet outside the building when I heard a pop. Then the building just seemed to go. Kaboom.” He finished the last word on a whisper, his mind's eye seeing the building burning, the flames reaching for the black blanket of sky above them.

The hand on his arm brought him back to the present, to Anna and the newly built boathouse. Rebuilt to honor Lance's memory. It had been Lance's favorite place, his haven. Their father had had it reconstructed exactly as it had been, as though the fire had never happened.

Unfortunately, Lucas knew better.

“It wasn't your fault.” Her murmured whisper soothed his aching heart.

“My mind knows that, but deep down, I can't help but wonder, what if I hadn't threatened to tell Father? What if I hadn't lost my temper and stormed out? What if…”

“The what-ifs will never lose their grip, Lucas.”

“Is that where God comes in?”

She gave a sad smile. “Only if you let Him.”

“I want to. I know sometimes I give you a hard time or act cynical, but…” He stuck a hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a small rectangular piece of paper. “I read this. A girl gave it to me in the airport.”

Curiosity flickered and she asked, “What is it?”

“A tract.”

Joy flared on her face. “And you kept it? I would have thought you'd have given it a toss at first opportunity.”

“I almost did but then forgot about it until last night. I pulled it out of my pocket to throw it away. Instead I started reading it.”

“And?”

He pursed his lips. “And…I need to think about it some more.”

The disappointment flashed only briefly before she nodded. “Sure, just let me know when you want to talk.”

He took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Absolutely. Now, do you want to go for a boat ride?”

 

Over the course of the week, this became their morning ritual; eat breakfast, talk about God, go for a boat ride, then visit Paulo, praying for news about a heart. Anna's tension kept ratcheting upward because of how quiet everything was. No more attempts on her life. No more feeling that she was being followed. Nothing. It was absolutely nerve-racking. When she wasn't spending her time with Lucas, she made herself at home on his laptop, devouring every scrap of information she could about Shawn de Chastelain, his missing brother, Brandon, and her ex-supervisor, Justin Michaels. And trying to devise a plan to get into de Chastelain's house.

And then it came—the phone call they'd been waiting for. Paulo was to get his new heart as soon as everything could be arranged.

 

Since things had been relatively quiet with no more problems, Anna decided it was probably okay for her to very carefully visit Paulo. She had something she wanted to give him and grinned at the thought of his reaction. Lucas had dropped her at the entrance to the hospital and gone to park the car. Hoping it wasn't the calm before the storm, she made her way through the maze of corridors, constantly keeping her eyes on the faces around her. Instead of riding the elevator, she decided at the last minute to take the stairs.

Entering the stairwell, she shifted the cheerful red-and-green box under her arm and started up, one step at a time, taking note of the sudden silence as the heavy metal door clanked shut behind her. The stillness echoed around her. About halfway up the second flight of stairs, the door clanked shut again. Muffled footsteps sounded behind her. Her nerves jumped, clamored for space. Silly. No reason to be jumpy.

Actually, she probably had good reason to be cautious. Better safe than sorry.

From her perch on the stairs, she looked down between the metal bars and saw a black-gloved hand gripping a black gun with a silencer on the end. She heard the steps coming closer, ever closer. Heart rate tripling, she realized she wasn't being jumpy or silly, she was being threatened. Dropping the package, she raced up the stairs.

Find a floor. Get to a floor. Call the cops. Oh, Lord, protect me. Don't let anyone else come into the stairwell at the wrong time.

Visions of that gun swam in her mind. Her fear of being shot nearly sent her to the floor; instead, she double-timed her pace, taking the steps two at a time. The person behind her did, too. A low laugh rumbled up toward her.

With shock, she realized he was enjoying this. He got a kick out of making her tremble with terror, making her wonder if she would get away. A chill spiked up her spine. He wasn't afraid of being caught.

Which made him extra dangerous. Not just to her, but to all the innocents in the hospital. Her muscles ached from the sudden exertion climbing the stairs two at a time required, but she ignored their protests and kept climbing, her blood humming, her heart pounding.

She passed the second-floor door, then came to the third-floor door. Paulo's floor. No way was she stopping here. The door opened and a nurse started to step into the stairwell but screeched to a halt when she saw Anna. Without hesitating, Anna shoved the woman back onto the floor and blurted, “Call security. There's a man with a gun behind me.” Not waiting for a reaction from the suddenly wide-eyed nurse, Anna aimed for the next floor, praying the woman would do as instructed.

Steps echoed. Hers? His? He was definitely closer. Her teeth clenched; panting breaths escaped. Weakness wanted to flood her, but she refused to let it. Up another floor. If she got off here, would she endanger anyone else on the floor?

Did she dare
not
get out of the stairwell?

And what if someone entered at the wrong moment, like the poor nurse had almost done? What if she'd opened the door after Anna had passed, the lunatic right behind her?

He would have shot the woman. Cold certainty made her ill.

This guy was insane for taking such a chance just to get at her.

A quick glance down allowed her to see a flash of denim, and black shoes. Then her pursuer tripped, cursed, got back on his feet. Shaking, stumbling, Anna hurried on to the next floor, determined to find a way to alert security. Seconds later, she was at the door—and stumbled to a stop. The sign in big red letters glared at her. Employees Only. The dead bolt mocked her.

No, no, no.
She'd come one floor too far. Footsteps continued to thunder below her. Desperate, she hurled herself at the door and pressed against the metal bar. Nothing. Locked.

Think, think.

The climbing, unhurried footsteps echoed below her; it was only a matter of time. Then the steps stopped. A low voice hissed from the steps below, “There's no way out now. I told you to leave. You didn't listen. Now my boss wants you gone.”

Terror shuddered through her. His boss?

De Chastelain.

What to do? Frantic, she darted her eyes around.

No way up.

Only down.

Past the man whose boss wanted her “gone.”

Her eyes landed on the box hanging on the wall, and an idea sparked. The glass door stood open a fraction. She wouldn't even have to break in. Would it work?

Moving back into the little alcove set away from the locked door that led to safety, she reached out and pulled the heavy fire extinguisher from the wall. Could she heft it high enough to throw it? Grunting, she got a better grip, then waited.

His steps slowed, his arrogant confidence in capturing his prey evident in each calculated footfall. Then he appeared around the corner, ski-masked face revealing an evil grin. Anna swung with all her might, catching him on the shoulder. She'd been aiming for his head, but the extinguisher was too heavy for her.

His scream of pain and the sound of his falling down the stairs shot satisfaction through her. Now the tricky part. Getting past him. Not giving him time to recover, she hurtled past him, feeling his hand nearly snag her pants, then ran down to the next door, flinging it open and bursting onto the floor. Startled glances swung her way. Not caring that she looked like a crazy person, she ran to the nurses' station and said, “There's a man with a gun in the stairwell. Call 911.”

Hospital policy had gone into effect immediately, calling for emergency procedures to be implemented. Officers now swarmed the hospital. One focused on Anna, and she shivered and shook as she gave her report.

“Are you sure you saw a gun?”

She gritted her teeth, glaring at the young officer, who was beginning to get on her last nerve. “I'm sure. I know what a gun looks like.”

“What about what he looked like?”

“He had on a mask, which I'm sure he pulled off as soon as I got away from him so he could walk through the hospital.”

 

Three hours later, the officer in charge of the search and the head of hospital security approached Anna. “Ma'am, we're going to call off the search. We didn't find anyone or anything. My guess is he slipped onto one of the floors as soon as you got away from him, probably acted like he was visiting someone, then got out before we could get the hospital completely locked down. We'll check the security cameras, but don't hold your breath.”