Never Sleep With Strangers (29 page)

“Your robe was gone,” she stated. “The one with the blood all over it.”

“My housekeeping staff is very good,” he told her.

“Ah…you didn't make sure it was removed?” she asked him.

“No,” he said, walking toward her. “Did you find a bloody corpse anywhere, and you're simply not sharing that information with us?”

Her eyes fell. He was in front of her. She could smell his soap, his aftershave, something more uniquely him. She felt an instant melting sensation within, and she knew that she wanted him. And if he touched her…

“Where have you been?” she demanded suspiciously.

He tilted his head. “Trying to make a thorough search of the place. I've just been through all the hidden passageways.”

Logical. She had been thinking herself that the passageways should be searched.

However…

He had done so alone.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked her.

“Should I be?”

He shook his head, looking at her. “No,” he said firmly.

She bit her lip, not moving.

He turned around and started to leave.

She might be a fool, but she couldn't bear it. “Jon!” she cried, and she raced after him. She threw herself against his back, her arms encircling him, her chin resting against his robe. He went still for a moment, then turned. And as he did so, she fumbled for the belt of his robe, tugging it free. She buried her face against his chest, slid her hands along his ribs, over his hips. He was naked beneath the robe. The brush of her fingers brought him to an immediate erection, and she cradled it with her hands. She looked up at last, ready to meet his lips as he lifted her chin and kissed her.

She sank against him, kissing him everywhere, barely aware of his guttural moans as she slid down his torso and closed her mouth around him. He cradled her nape, fingers tangling into her hair; then he was drawing her up, lifting her, pressing her down on the bed. And he was everywhere then, bathing her with the hunger of his lips and tongue. He allowed her no inhibitions, granted no mercy. He delved into her most intimate places, slowly, with fire, until she thrashed beneath him with a violent frenzy that brought him atop her, staring down as he slowly penetrated her, watching her eyes, feeling himself sink within her, feeling her sheath him. Then she closed her eyes and felt the searing exhilaration of his passion as he began to move with an ever increasing pace within her.

When it was over she lay spent and exhausted in his arms, thinking that she loved him desperately.

And wishing that she did not.

He didn't speak. He kept his arms around her.

Thus entangled, they slept.

 

Almost two hours later Jon awoke with a jolt.

He sat up and looked around. For a moment, he was confused. What had awakened him?

Then he realized that he'd had the uncanny feeling of being watched.

He gave himself a shake.

Sabrina slept on, sweetly, beautifully at his side, her naked body curved to his.

And still…

There was nothing. No strange sound in the night. No strange scent. Just a feeling that they hadn't been alone, that someone had stood there, watching them sleep….

He rose, donned his robe and slipped into the secret passageway.

 

Reggie was old but not dead. Yet.

And they were all missing something, the fools.

When she was certain that everyone was asleep, she rose. She buttoned her velour robe warmly about her and donned her comfy yellow slippers. She had a really good flashlight, and she reached for that.

Thus armed, she left her bedroom.

The hallway was silent.

Dead silent.

There weren't going to be any clues on this floor, she was convinced. She went down to the main level, glancing into the dimly lit great hall, then the library.

Not a creature was stirring, she thought. Except for maybe a few mice, she decided with some humor. And maybe a few great big rats! It was a very old castle.

In the great hall, she plucked up one of the heavy candleholders from the table. Brass bludgeon in one hand, flashlight in the other, she was ready to take on the world. Not that she thought she needed to take on anyone. Even monsters had to sleep. She just wanted to be prepared.

She journeyed down to the level below.

The pool rippled in the dim light. The bowling alleys were silent.

In the chapel, she crossed herself.

In the crypt, she prayed for the dead.

In the chamber of horrors…she met the murderer.

She was deep into the room, looking…for what, she didn't know. She liked mystery, loved mystery, and she intended to solve this one.

She did.

And then…

She heard something. A slight sound. And she turned. And faced the killer.

She never screamed. Nor did the killer even touch her. She didn't give the murderer the satisfaction of killing again.

The explosive pain in her chest ripped into her with the power of an atom bomb. Thankfully, the agony was fast. She couldn't breathe. She stared; she felt her eyes popping.

Then she fell.

She heard the killer's laughter, and she knew she was dying.

The killer thought she was
already
dead.

But not yet…

Not yet.

S
un streamed through the window.

Sabrina awoke slowly, aware of dazzling rays of light penetrating the room. She was aware, as well, of the warm body beside her, and she twisted, glad that Jon was with her. Yet, as she turned, she saw that he was awake already, staring up at the ceiling with a frown.

The frown left his face when he realized she was studying him, and he turned to her. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself.”

“You made it through the night,” he told her softly.

“Yes. Meaning…?”

“Well, you don't really trust me, do you?”

“Yes…it's just that…”

“There was blood on my robe.” He shrugged. “Well, we should be out of here soon. We can have a forensics expert check it out.”

He sounded bitter. She didn't want him to be bitter.

“You'll admit, there's a lot of unusual stuff going on around here.”

“A lot of mysteries to be solved. People are confessing to all kinds of things, but we still seem to be missing one simple truth.”

“What really happened to Cassie? And now, of course, where the hell has Susan gone?”

She sat up, hugging sheets and knees to her as she looked at him. “I was actually really tired and slept through the night. Were you here all night, or did you disappear?”

He arched a brow, hesitated, then admitted, “I disappeared for a while.”

“Oh?”

He nodded. “Remember how you told me that you thought someone had been in this room watching you, and I told you that it hadn't been me?”

“Yes, of course. I never saw anyone, though. It was just a feeling.”

“Well, I woke up with that same feeling.”

She arched a brow at him. “It is your castle, and you're the king of it, remember? Who else could have been in here?”

“I don't know. But I didn't like the feeling. It was very uncomfortable.”

“So you went running around in the dark to see if anyone else was up again, right?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

“Well, were other people up, running around the castle?”

He nodded grimly.

“Who?”

“Well, actually, you were one of only two people to sleep through the night.”

“Oh?”

“As I left here, Anna Lee was just coming from Joe's room.”

“Why?”

“I don't know, and I didn't ask.”

“Go on.”

“Camy was up working, and V.J., Tom, Brett, Dianne and Joshua were in the great hall, chowing down on midnight snacks. Apparently, you and Reggie were the only people sleeping. I seem to be hosting a party of night owls.”

“So you all had a party without Reggie and me, huh?”

He nodded, then grinned. “They decided that I was the killer.”

She felt her heart pound against her chest. But they were talking about the game, of course. “Are you the killer?”

“I can't tell you. We decided not to admit or deny anything until we were all together again.”

“But when—” she began.

“Later, this evening. I've got to get up and get going. I'm going to take Joshua and Thayer with me and see if we can figure out if Susan did try to leave here. Though why she would leave notes to people if she meant to walk out into mountains of snow…”

“Why would she?” Sabrina asked.

“I don't think she would.”

“Then where could she be?”

“I don't know. And I admit I'm growing more and more afraid of finding out. Still, after searching the castle last night, it only makes sense to ride around the general area and look for her. So I guess I should get up, huh?”

She nodded. He kept staring at her. She laughed suddenly and moved into his arms. It seemed a unique opportunity, waking up beside him. One not to be wasted. To just slide into his arms and make love was a temptation not to be resisted.

Yet afterward, he didn't linger. He rose, showered quickly, kissed her, walked away, came back, kissed her once again, then hurried out by way of the secret passage. When he was gone, she bounded to her feet, showered and dressed in jeans, a cashmere pullover, boots and a heavy jacket.

She hurried downstairs and found that she was the last to arrive in the great hall. Despite their lack of power, Jennie Albright was still whisking up wonderful meals. As Camy handed her coffee, she saw that the others were already dining on eggs, ham, salmon, crispy potatoes, and toast cooked in little metal baskets that went over the open fire.

“You look as if you're ready for the outdoors,” Brett told her.

“Yeah, I am. Cooped up too long. I want to take a walk down to the stables.”

“You're not coming with us,” Jon told her.

She arched a brow. “Why not?”

“Because Joshua and I know where we're going, where to ride, where it's dangerous and where it's not.”

“I know how to ride.”

“But you don't know this terrain.”

“What about Thayer?”

“I spent a lot of time riding last time I was here,” Thayer told her apologetically. “Before…” He looked away uncomfortably.

“Before Cassie was killed,” Jon said bluntly. “Let's go,” he told the others, and they left the great hall.

Sabrina watched them go. Brett came up behind her. “He's afraid for you.”

“Why?”

“That's easy, isn't it?”

She turned around and looked at him. Brett smiled. “He's in love with you,” he said. He shrugged. “Anyway, want to build a snowman?”

She hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, sure, why not.”

The went outside. The air remained icy, despite the sun, but still, it felt good. Once again the others began wandering out. V.J. and Tom remained by the doors, but Camy, Anna Lee, Dianne and Joe came out and joined them in creating a huge snowman. Then when Dianne missed while in the process of adding a wad of snow to their creature's midsection, sending the snow all over Brett, their artistic endeavors deteriorated into another major snowball fight.

Finally, though, Sabrina realized that she was way too cold. And looking up, she saw that the sun had fallen, and they were heading into late afternoon. “Hey, we're going to be frostbitten Popsicles if we don't get inside!” she called.

“I think my nose is already gone. I can't feel it!” Dianne claimed.

“Mine was too big anyway,” Joe said. “But I need my feet, and I can't feel them anymore, either!”

Laughing and drenched, they returned to the house. By then, V.J. had gone in. She was pacing in the entryway. Sabrina smiled at her. “I'm soaked!”

“That's what happens when children play,” she said, but she looked distracted.

“What's the matter?”

“Reggie hasn't come down yet.”

“Well, I'm going to take a shower and change. Walk up with me and see if she's in her room.”

“All right.”

In the hallway, they parted, Sabrina heading for her room, V.J. walking down the hall to Reggie's. Sabrina heard V.J. knocking, but then closed her door.

Well aware that the hot water wouldn't last forever—and that several of them were thawing in it right now—Sabrina showered quickly. As she wrapped a towel around herself, she heard a banging at her door. “Yes?” she called out.

“It's me. V.J.”

Sabrina opened her door, and V.J. walked in, tense and worried. She was carrying a kerosene lamp, and she lit it as she spoke. The shadows were taking them from afternoon to evening.

“Reggie isn't in her room,” V.J. said.

“What's going on?” came another voice. Brett, freshly showered as well, had just come into the hall and stood at Sabrina's open doorway.

“I'm worried about Reggie,” V.J. said.

“Hang on, I'll get dressed, and we'll start another search party,” Sabrina said.

She grabbed her clothing and hurried into the bathroom. Brett had followed V.J. into the room, and the two were talking.

“I mean, Susan might choose to disappear, but not Reggie,” V.J. announced firmly.

“V.J., calm down,” Brett said.

As Sabrina zipped herself into dry jeans and stepped from the bathroom, V.J. was shaking her head. “You don't understand. Reggie pretends to be so tough, but she's on all kinds of heart medication.”

“Does Jon know that?” Sabrina asked.

“Jon always seems to suspect when something is wrong, but Reggie's so stubborn. I think she lied like crazy to Jon, telling him she was in wonderful shape so he wouldn't leave her out of things—which he would have if he thought she was failing in the least. But I know something has happened to Reggie. I just know it.”

“All right, where might she be?” Brett asked.

“Well, she's not in the great room or the library or her room,” V.J. said.

“I guess we go downstairs. To the dungeon,” Sabrina said. She wondered why she was more and more loath to do so.

“Let's go,” Brett said.

V.J. and Sabrina followed him out into the hallway. Joe, also freshly showered, was coming from his room. “What's up?”

“We can't find Reggie,” V.J. said. “Want to help us on another hunt?”

“Sure. Where's Tom?”

“In the library. He probably thinks I'm with Reggie now,” V.J. said.

“Well, let's get Tom and start searching again,” Joe said.

“Sounds good,” Brett agreed.

They went down to the library. Tom and Dianne were playing gin rummy at a table by the fire. Sabrina noticed the way Tom's face lit up when V.J. entered the room, and she wondered how either of them had ever managed to fool anyone for as long as they had.

But then, seeing the expressions on their faces, Tom frowned. “What's wrong?”

“I can't find Reggie,” V.J. told him.

“We're going down below on a hunt,” Joe said.

As he spoke, they heard the front doors open. Sabrina walked to the library door, looking toward the main entrance. A great blast of cold air came sweeping in along with Jon, Joshua and Thayer. They looked worn and freezing. All had red noses and runny eyes.

“No luck?” Brett asked, though the answer was obvious.

“No luck,” Jon said, unwinding a scarf from around his neck. “You can see down the cliff, though, that the road crews in the village have dug through some of the major blockages. We could be out by tomorrow.” He sounded relieved.

“Damn, I gotta get to the fire!” Thayer exclaimed, making his way through to the library. “This is terrible. I may have to sue. I think my balls are frozen.”

Sabrina smiled as he hurried by her. Then she met Jon's eyes, and she saw the hard, dark concern in them.

“What's going on?” he asked carefully as he looked at her.

“V.J. is worried. We can't find Reggie.”

“Jesus! Reggie?” he repeated.

“Yes, we were about to go down below and see if she's there for some reason.”

“Damn!” Jon swore. He drew off his coat and gloves, dropping them on the hall tree. Heedless of the snow he tracked in he headed around the main staircase to the second set winding down below. Sabrina followed him, Brett at her heels and the others close behind him.

He picked up one of the lamps from a wall fixture as he hurried down the steps. “Reggie! Shit!”

“Jon?” V.J. called anxiously. “Is there something wrong, something you know?”

He paused briefly, turning back. V.J. nearly plowed into him. “Yes, there's something wrong. I should have known Reggie better. We asked her to sit in the great hall while we were looking for Susan, and I think she was insulted. She might have decided to do her own search after we went to bed. She just won't realize her age!”

V.J. went white. She was right on Jon's heels as they hurried on down the rest of the steps.

“I'll take the chapel,” Joe called.

“I'm with you like glue,” Dianne told him.

“Crypts,” Thayer offered.

“Crypts, fine. I'll do the tombs with you,” Tom said unhappily.

“Brett, try the pool, the bowling alley,” Jon said, already heading into the chamber of horrors. Sabrina and V.J. were on his heels.

“Oh, Jesus, dear God!” Jon breathed as they walked into the chamber.

Because there was Reggie. Crumpled on the floor, right in front of the tableau of Lady Ariana Stuart and her torturer.

“Reggie, Reggie!” He was instantly down on his knees, carefully testing her pulse, her breathing.