The Amber Stone (30 page)

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Authors: Dara Girard

Tags: #romance

BOOK: The Amber Stone
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“Sean?” He felt the light touch of his sister’s fingers on his shoulder. “You’re scaring us.”

Don’t touch me
, he wanted to say but fury made him mute. He wouldn’t let them hurt her. Where would she go? Who would she talk to? He took a deep breath. He had to be calm and think. He had to know what Evan was thinking in order to outwit him.

Sean slowly opened his eyes, regaining control of his emotions. “Have you talked to her sisters?”

A smooth, cold smile touched Evan’s mouth. “Don’t worry. We plan to.”

 

 

Chapter Thirty-four

 

“You have two visitors.”

Michelle listened to her receptionist with a dispassionate ear. Somehow she knew they would eventually come, especially after learning that her sister was a suspect wanted by the police, but she pretended to be surprised. “Who?”

There was a delicate pause. She heard the receptionist ask the visitors their business, but she could not understand their reply “They say they’re relatives. Evan and Robert…uh…Casey.”

She gave a deep sigh, slowly putting her papers away. “Send them in.”

Michelle wasn’t sure what she was expecting when the doors opened, but nothing could have prepared her for the two handsome giants that came through her door like renegades on the scent of a traitor.

One had a cane and a decided limp, this however did not lessen the overwhelming presence that surrounded him. His hair was black, contrasting eerily with his silver eyes and brown skin. He studied her, not with absent curiosity, but intense judgment. She had met his type before, therefore she was not uncomfortable under his glacial gaze. It was the other one who garnered the most attention. His stance was much more relaxed, but not less threatening. His brown eyes were frank and assessing. A small smile danced on his lips as if he was aware what impression his presence made on her.

“Please take a seat. Or perhaps you would like to go to the conference room?”

“This is fine,” the one with the cane said, taking a seat.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“If you could tell me—” Michelle’s statement was cut off when her receptionist buzzed her again.

“Yes?”

“Your sister is here to see you.”

Michelle’s pulse quickened and she suddenly wished she hadn’t put her on speaker. Could Teresa have come out of hiding to see her? She felt the men’s gaze on her. “Okay, send her in.”

Jessie burst into the room. “I just spoke to Kenneth about a strategy and—” Her eyes widened when she saw the two men. She shut the door and rested against it. “Oh no. Sean’s dead and you want to charge Teresa with murder. I knew—”

“Jessie, sit,” Michelle ordered, sending her sister a warning glance. “I doubt that’s why they’re here.”

Jessie found a seat and sank slowly into it looking chagrined.

“So,” Michelle said. “How is Sean by the way?”

“Still weak,” Brown Eyes said before the other could speak. He sent his brother a stare that indicated he would handle things. The other man lifted his shoulders an infinitesimal amount in a show of acquiescence. Brown Eyes leaned forward and smiled engagingly; Michelle felt her face grow warm. “Before trying to deal with the matter at hand we should introduce ourselves. I’m Robert and this is my brother Evan.”

“Nice to meet you—both,” she added, tearing her eyes away from him to include his brother, whose expression had become oddly neutral. “I’m Michelle, and this is my sister, Jessie. Now with the formalities out of the way, how can we help you?”

“We’d like to know where Teresa is.”

“So would we.”

Robert sighed disappointed. “So she did run off then.”

“No. She went to find her....” Michelle floundered.

“Friend,” Jessie said.

“To find out what went wrong,” Michelle finished.

Evan nodded, watching the woman with a studied impassioned gaze. Jessie would be a poor liar, but he was certain Michelle was not. Her gaze was too intelligent, he decided to reveal what they knew. He tapped the head of his cane. “You can stop lying to us. Does your sister dabble in witchcraft?”

Jessie stiffened. “Now listen here, Captain Ahab—”

“Quiet, Jessie,” Michelle said.

Jessie sat back in her seat.

“No, whatever unfortunate rumors you may have heard are false,” Michelle said determined to set the record straight. “She is not a witch. Some may think Teresa is one because she’s...special.”

“So it’s not true that your sister deals with herbs and oils and rituals and she,” he nodded in Jessie’s direction, “can read stones? I’m afraid I haven’t uncovered
your
special talent yet,” he said, sending Michelle a significant look.

Robert grinned. “We did our homework.”

“Teresa occasionally makes medicinal drinks,” Michelle said. “but they haven’t hurt anyone.”

“Of course,” Evan said, doubtful.

Michelle could feel her sister’s temper rising at Evan’s blatant distrust. She decided to change the subject. “When we find Teresa, what message do you have for her?”

“I suggest you encourage her to turn herself in.”

Robert spoke up. “Also, Sean wants to see her.”

“She won’t see him,” Michelle said.

“Why not?”

“Guilt,” Evan muttered.

Jessie opened her mouth, but Michelle’s cold stare stopped her. “Is he convinced of her guilt?” she asked.

“Yes,” Evan lied.

“No,” Robert countered. “He wants to know what happened.”

“Are you convinced of her guilt?” Michelle addressed the question to Evan.

“Unequivocally.”

“Wow, that’s big word,” Jessie said. “You must be proud of yourself.”

His jaw tensed.

Michelle clasped her hands together on her desk. “Why are you two determined that my sister is the only culprit? Your brother has a past. Perhaps it’s caught up with him.”

“No, Sean doesn’t have enemies like that,” Robert said.

“Our sister has no motive,” Michelle countered.

“Really?” Evan said. “We think she has several million reasons.”

Michelle looked bored. “That’s just sloppy.”

Evan blinked. “What?”

“Your entire rationale is sloppy,” she said with a wave of her hand. “If my sister wanted to kill your brother, she would have done it in a clean efficient way that no one would have detected. How you were able to convince the police to waste their time on this, I don’t know, but I am disappointed that this is your conclusion. However, let me make things clear. My sister does not, would not, nor ever will, need your brother’s money. Do you think you can manage to put two brain cells together and come up with another theory?”

“You say you know a lot about her and yet you don’t know where she is,” Evan said.

“And you think I’m lying?”

He nodded.

“Once again, you’d be wrong.” She flattened her hands on the table. “Let’s be honest with each other. We like your brother even less than you care for our sister. Shut up, Jessie,” she said when her sister opened her mouth. “He came here with no background and a lot of secrets. Why my sister fell for him still amazes me, but she did. If…when I get in contact with her, I will make sure that she turns herself in and clears up this misunderstanding.” She stood, walked to the door and opened it. “You can tell Sean we wish him well.”

Evan walked to the door and stopped in front of her. “For his sake, or your sister’s?”

Michelle only smiled.

 

***

 

Teresa knew she was taking a risk, sneaking into her house, but after watching it carefully, she knew it was empty and she needed to see something. After her talk with Kenneth, she’d gone to see Pernelle to see if someone else—-an angry patron or other disgruntled worker—could have tampered with the thermos, thinking it was hers. Unfortunately, Pernelle wasn’t there.

Since Sean’s poisoning, she’d ended up hiding in Bertha’s attic, without her friend knowing, after discovering that she was wanted by the police. She knew she couldn’t hide there forever, but she wasn’t ready to turn herself in without evidence to prove her innocence or at least find another suspect. And she decided not to contact either of her sisters because she didn’t want to get them involved.

Something about books and the bookshop kept bothering her and she felt that the answer was here. She opened the front door and Mist came up to greet her, but she couldn’t offer much affection as she raced to their utility closet. She pulled out Louisa’s suitcase. She’d started to go through some of the items, but had stopped because it had become too emotional.

While hiding at Bertha’s place, a book kept rising in her thoughts for some reason. She quickly shifted through Louisa’s things and found it. An old, out-of-date book of herbs. She remembered flipping through it, then discarding it after seeing the area Louisa had highlighted about inducing an abortion.

She’d felt pity at Louisa’s naiveté that such a mixture would work, but now seeing the book, she felt anger. She remembered Louisa telling her that ‘
She
had said it would work’. Louisa hadn’t gotten the book on her own, someone had recommended it. Perhaps someone who worked in a bookstore. The same bookstore where she’d left her thermos unattended.

Pernelle?
Could it really be? Had she betrayed her? But why? She couldn’t understand the motive, but the means were clear. Pernelle had acted a little strange after their last meeting, more reserved than usual, though her smile had been the same. Had Sean been right? Did she trust too easily and not know how to read people? She’d thought Bertha was being too harsh with her cruel comments about the vibrant, pretty woman, but she’d warned her about how dangerous she was. Soon Bertha’s words about Louisa echoed in her mind:
You’re so busy seeing her pain, you don’t see the pain she causes.

She’d been so blind. She’d never once questioned the real reason Pernelle didn’t want to see Sean. Just as she never once questioned why Louisa had left her alone at Preek’s Bar. Blind trust was as dangerous as blind love.

Teresa packed up the items and returned to Bertha’s house. She was relieved to see the house was dark and sneaked inside as she had before. She made her way to the staircase and had her hand on the railing and was halfway to the landing when the hall lights came on.

She spun around and saw Bertha at the bottom of the stairs.

“Bertha, I—”

“I know why you’re here,” her friend said, looking at her in a cool, detached way Teresa had never seen before.

“I just need to hide here for a few more days.”

Bertha shook her head. “You will not run away from this, the police are on their way.”

A cold knot formed in her stomach and her legs gave way. She sat down hard on the step beneath her. “You betrayed me?”

Bertha walked up the steps and took her hand in a strong warm grasp. “I’m doing this for your sake. You must stop running and face these accusations. You must prove them wrong.”

Teresa met her friend’s earnest gaze and saw her friend’s unwavering love. But at that moment, her actions hurt too much for Teresa to feel it.

“Will you abandon Sean like this?” Bertha continued. “A handler must be used like a violin, he will die without you.”

“Someone else can use him.”

“I said ‘you’ not ‘use.’ He needs you.”

“He may die because of me. And his family won’t even let me near him and now the police—”

“This is just the beginning, not the end. You must be strong.”

She jumped to her feet, pushed past Bertha and raced down the stairs. There was still time to escape. “I’m not strong,” she said. She felt weary of fighting. Weary of trying to prove people wrong. Maybe they were right. She was a murderer. She was a dangerous witch. She hurt everyone she cared for. Her touch was poison. She’d brought shame to her family and they’d be better off without her. She briefly considered running to the bay and finding the perfect peace Louisa had tried to find under the waves.

She ran to the front door, then halted when she heard the sirens of the police cars and the sound of their tires as they sped up the driveway.

She turned to run to the back door, wondering how far she could get, hoping the darkness would shield her.

“Think of your sisters,” Bertha said in a quiet voice that could be heard over the sirens. “Think of Sean. Think of how much he loves you. How much you love him.”

Teresa froze with her hand on the door handle, she rigidly held her tears in check. “No.”

“The moment you step out that door, you’re sentencing him to death. You hold his heart, his soul. Your destinies are intertwined. I told you, you were in a battle. It is time to wear the armor that his love has helped you create. You must fight your way back to him no matter what it takes.”

Teresa heard the knock on the front door and the voice of the police.

Bertha lightly touched her shoulder. “Surrender, Teresa. That’s the only way you’ll be free.”

 

 

Chapter Thirty-five

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