Killing Me Softly (9 page)

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because she’s your sister.’ Bev laid a gentle hand on her arm. ‘Look, I tell you what. I’ve finished my baking and cleaning for the morning. Why don’t I take over here? I don’t have anything to do until Billy gets back from town with the groceries.’ She began to usher Lexi out of the room before she could protest. ‘You go and spend some time by yourself..’ She narrowed her eyes and shook her finger at Lexi. ‘And I don’t mean do bookwork. You should go for a ride. Blow some of those cobwebs away. Karl would enjoy your company. He’s just doing some work on the lorry and when the storm’s passed he was going to ride out and move the stock from the north pasture to the eastern one away from the stream.’

‘I’d really love that, but I can’t keep putting off the accounts.’ Lexi hesitated, torn between duty and pleasure. Some time out riding would be good. Bev was right. She did need to blow away some of the cobwebs. Maybe being out and about and away from work would stop her thoughts from straying in unwanted directions.

Sensing her indecision, Bev touched her arm. ‘Do your accounts until the weather clears, then go with Karl. I’ll let him know you’re coming.’

Lexi couldn’t help but smile as the idea bloomed in her mind. ‘That sounds great. Are you sure you’re all right to look after Cat right now? You’re supposed to have this morning off and I don’t want to make extra work for you just because I could do with a break.’

Bev patted her arm. ‘You didn’t hire a nurse because I said I wanted to help; makes my old nursing skills useful again. Besides, if she’s being as unhelpful as you say, it’s a sure sign she’s tired and could do with a rest. I’ll just get her in the bath and then I’ll set her up to have a little nap on the couch downstairs. I can sit and have a cuppa and put my feet up and not feel guilty for having a rest, too.’

Lexi gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Thanks, Bev. You’re such a treasure. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘You’d manage. You’d just run yourself ragged, that’s all. Now off you go. We’ll be fine, won’t we, Catriona dear?’ Cat’s gaze flickered to Bev and then away to stare out the window. ‘See, we’ll be right as rain. Go and have a good time. I’ll have lunch ready when you get back.’

Lexi nodded, kissed Cat on the head and headed downstairs, trying not to feel hurt that Cat had looked at Bev and not her. She buzzed the garage and found out that Karl would be another half an hour. He’d call when he was ready to go.

Looking forward to her ride, she picked the mail envelope up off the hallstand and went into the study. She paid some bills, emailed her manager about a function she’d been asked to attend and then turned her attention to the rest. More bills, a couple of invites and . . . 

The jagged lettering on the white envelope caught her eye. Her hand began to tremble. Not another one! This was the third letter in the past week and a half. Perhaps she should ask Emma to cull them and send them straight to the police. No. She wouldn’t do that. She didn’t want to worry her manager with this ugliness.

Looking down at the letter, she had to stop herself from crumpling it in a ball and throwing it in the rubbish. But she couldn’t. There might be a clue as to the identity of the writer. Steadying her hands, she bent to put it with the others in the drawer to give to Detective Fox when he came up next week, but, for some reason she couldn’t explain, she grabbed the letter opener instead, sliced open the envelope and pulled out the paper inside. The thick lettering showed clearly through the other side, feeling almost like braille. Her stomach dropped.

Don’t look at it. Don’t read it.

But she couldn’t help it, her gaze zeroing in on the jagged slashes on the paper that made up letters and words.

Her skin began to crawl as she read it.

Lexi swallowed hard, her eyes flickering back to the top of the letter.

He knew where she lived.

He’d been watching her.

He’d been here.

Oh, God!

Racing for the bathroom, she heaved and heaved until there was nothing left. Legs trembling, she stood and made it to the basin, splashing cold water on her face and rinsing out the bitter taste of bile. She gulped down water, trying to remove the burning from her throat. Holding on to the edge of the vanity, she stared at the reflection in the mirror.

Her face was white, eyes wide and terrified. Water dripped off her nose and chin and hair stuck to her temples. She had to get a grip. She couldn’t go out looking like this. The others would know something was terribly wrong.

Grabbing the towel next to the vanity she wiped her face dry, the words in the letter a blaze behind her closed eyes.

He knew where she lived. He’d threatened her. Threatened Cat.

An image of Lyndon, hovering over her as she lay drugged and helpless on the floor of his office, sprang into her mind. She couldn’t have stopped him. She’d been paralysed, not only by the drug, but because he’d told her where he’d taken Cat, and what he’d done to her when he realised he had the wrong twin. Lexi would have been raped if Billy hadn’t arrived to pick her up – Billy refused to let her go home by herself with Cat missing. He’d saved her and she’d been able to save her sister by telling the police where Cat was.

But she’d never forgotten the feeling of utter helplessness as she’d stared up at him, unable to move. The thought of being that vulnerable again made her stomach clench and twist, heart beat too fast in her chest.

This letter writer knew where she lived.

Was it because The Sidhe were here? She knew agreeing to work with Daemon and the band might bring unwanted publicity. But she hadn’t thought bringing the band here would lead this bastard right to her.

How had it happened? They’d been so careful. No media had followed them here – of that she was certain, or they would have been on the news.

Maybe the two weren’t connected. Not that it mattered anyway. There was only one thing she had to worry about right now.

The bastard knew where she lived.

Heart in her mouth, she ran back into the study. Shaking, she opened the top desk drawer, pulling it all the way out in her haste. It clanged to the floor, denting the polished floorboards. She didn’t care. Dropping to her knees, she rifled through the contents until she found Detective Fox’s mobile number.

Punching in the numbers with a trembling hand, she gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles hurt.

His calm, deep voice filled her ears, but it was a message asking her to leave her details.

Lexi swore, but left a message, hoping he’d get back to her soon. She knew he’d ask her to send him a copy, so she scanned it, fingers trembling, and emailed it to him, hoping to God it was enough for him to do something this time.

But she couldn’t sit around waiting for him to get back to her. She had to do something now. Had to protect herself. Had to protect her sister.

When the intercom buzzed, she jumped. It was Karl.

Karl!

Relief fluttered through her. Karl could help. He’d been a red beret in his twenties before he’d been injured and returned to farming. He’d know what to do.

It was a start. At least until she’d heard back from Detective Fox.

‘Bev told me you wanted to ride out with me. I’ll be going in a few minutes. It’s cold out. Are you still keen?’

She hadn’t even noticed the storm had passed or that the sun was now trying to peer through the clouds. Trying to sound normal, she told him she’d meet him down at the stables, then standing on shaky legs, she folded the letter, put it in her pocket, grabbed her coat, gloves and woollen beanie and headed out to the stable.

Caught up in her thoughts, she barrelled right into Daemon outside the kitchen door. His arms went around her to steady her and just for a moment, his warmth, the scent of his skin, the strong breadth of his chest, brought back memories of how he’d made her feel in her dreams – safe and cherished and wanted.

‘You’re back,’ she whispered, and before she knew what she was doing, she’d laid her head against his chest and burrowed into him. His arms tightened around her, giving comfort, a comfort she hadn’t felt for such a long time. A tear spilled from the corner of her eye.

‘Hey! What’s wrong? You’re shaking.’

His voice broke the spell and she pulled away, horrified at what she’d given in to because of how he’d looked at her in a couple of dreams. Ducking her head, she swiped at the tear before he could see it then looked up at him, a smile plastered to her face. ‘I’m fine. Just a hard morning with Cat.’

He didn’t look convinced as he peered closely at her. She looked away, afraid there was still a trace of tears in her eyes. He didn’t need to know her personal worries. They were work colleagues, that’s all. It was no wonder he looked at her with concern – concern for himself and the band. All he needed to see was steady, strong AJ, the brilliant producer. He didn’t need to see a woman falling apart.

She sniffed and knuckled her fist against the eye where the betraying moisture threatened to spill over. ‘I think I’ve got a bit of hayfever.’

‘At this time of year?’

He frowned at her, his hand half extended towards her as if he thought she needed steadying again. She stepped further away. If he touched her now, she’d lose it. She laughed, nervous, needing to get away from him and see Karl before she lost her cool again. ‘Can I do something for you?’ she asked, gaze darting past him towards the stable.

Still frowning, he paused for a moment before answering. ‘I was looking for Billy.’

She shrugged. ‘Billy’s not back from Newcastle yet. Do you need him urgently?’

He shook his head, his gaze keen on her face. ‘I just wanted to run something by him. Doesn’t matter. I’ll catch up with him later.’

‘Fine.’ She went to move past him but he stopped her with a light touch on her arm that made her jump.

‘Do you want to go for a walk or something? Talking about it could help.’

She shot him another smile, trying to cover the nervousness she felt around him. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ve got a date with Karl to help him with the stock.’
And to show him the letter
. But Daemon didn’t need to know about that. ‘I’d better go. He’s waiting for me.’ And she took off before he could stop her again – or even worse, join her.

She ran to the stables, as if the devil were behind her, the cold air catching painfully in her throat. Karl took one look at her and stopped saddling her horse. ‘What’s wrong, lass? Is it Cat?’

She wasn’t sure if she was trembling because of the contents of the letter or what had just happened with Daemon, but she wasn’t here to discuss Daemon. So she made a wobbly attempt at a smile and shook her head. ‘No. Cat’s fine. There is something I need to talk to you about, though.’

‘What is it?’

She shook her head again. ‘Not here. I don’t want to chance anyone overhearing.’ She walked over and tightened the girth on her horse, Viking, and fed the reins through the rings, her hands still shaking. ‘Let’s ride out and I’ll tell you all about it.’

Karl nodded and mounted Jimbo. As they left the yard they saw Bev standing at the back door. He gave her a wave and nudged Lexi to do the same. She waved and forced a smile but didn’t talk until they’d trotted through the gate that led into the home pasture, the horses’ hooves slushing through the light layer of melting snow.

Pulling his old stock horse up to walk beside Viking, Karl asked, ‘So what’s this all about, lass?’

Lexi firmed her mouth, determined not to give in to the fear grappling to take hold of her. ‘Before I tell you, you have to promise not to tell Billy or Bev.’

‘Well. . . ’ Karl hesitated. ‘You know what Bev’s like. She’d sniff a secret out of me in a second.’

‘Please, Karl. I can’t have them worrying about this until I know more. It could be nothing. It could be more. But if you don’t promise, I won’t tell you what’s going on.’

Karl looked off into the horizon then sighed. ‘I don’t have a choice then, do I?’ He turned to look at her, his crinkly eyes suddenly sharp and serious. ‘I don’t like the sound of this. You’d better tell me and I’ll do my best to keep it from them. How does that sound?’

‘It will have to do.’ As calmly as she could, she told him about the letters and how so far, the police couldn’t do anything. ‘Detective Fox says that ninety-nine per cent of the time, the writer of letters like this does nothing but send letters. So, while I’ve been careful, and it’s upsetting to think someone hates me, I’ve tried not to worry. Until I received this one.’

She pulled Viking to a halt and took the letter out of her pocket, her hands shaking with more than the cold, and handed it to him as he drew up beside her. His face blanched as he read, then turned scarlet, his lips thinning into a hard line. When he finished he looked up, hand clenching into a fist around the letter.

‘Karl, please,’ she said. ‘I need to give that to Detective Fox.’

‘Filth. It’s utter filth, that’s what this is. Whoever wrote this deserves to be locked up. The police can’t ignore this. . . this. . . ’ He shook, his face a study in fury as he struggled for words.