The Best Man to Trust (6 page)

Remembered how she’d freaked out a little when he’d touched her, her whole body practically having a seizure at the contact.

Embarrassment flooded her at the memory, as well as fresh anger at Brad and what he’d put her through. When would that nightmare no longer have that kind of effect on her? When would she finally, fully, be able to move past what he’d done to her?

“I’m as fine as I can be,” she assured him. “We should try to get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night.”

Ducking her head, she turned away. Her room was farther down the hall away from the others. Close to where they’d put Haley, she acknowledged with a shudder. At the time she’d thought it would be best if she stayed nearby in case anyone needed anything. She’d never imagined how necessary that would prove to be.

She quickly made her way there, eyeing the closed doors she passed along the way. Prickles of warning rose along her skin, as though her instincts were telling her that any moment one of those doors could burst open and someone would lunge out at her, knife in hand....

She finally arrived at her room. Unlocking the door, she pushed it open, then glanced back.

Tom stood in his doorway, watching her.

When he saw her looking back at him, he raised his hand in acknowledgment. He made no move to enter his room, simply standing there facing her. She realized he was waiting for her to go in first, waiting to make sure she was safe and secure behind closed doors.

She knew she shouldn’t read too much into it. It was exactly as he’d said earlier—they should stick together, stay in pairs. He wasn’t doing for her what he wouldn’t do for anyone else. It wasn’t really personal.

And yet, it felt personal all the same. A heady warmth poured through her at the knowledge, at the feeling of his eyes on her. After everything that had happened and working so hard to take care of everyone else, she had to admit it felt good knowing someone was looking out for her. And to have it be this man, of all people, only made it sweeter.

With one last little wave good-night, she stepped inside and closed the door, firmly locking it behind her.

* * *

O
NE
DOWN
...

Everything had gone even better than anticipated. It had been so easy. Haley hadn’t understood how much trouble she’d been in until the very end. Then she had. She’d been terrified.

And then she was dead.

The best part had been watching the reactions of the others afterward, particularly the ones who needed to suffer. The fear in their eyes. The panic about what was happening. The realization that they were trapped. The concern that they could be next.

They were scared.

They should be.

Chapter Seven

After a few restless hours that left her feeling like she hadn’t gotten any sleep at all, Meredith was awake by 6:00 a.m. Rising from the bed, she automatically moved to the window and peered out.

Nothing but a wall of white. She couldn’t even see where the snow on the ground began. It was as though everything outside Sutton Hall had simply been erased. The world had been reduced to what lay inside the mansion’s walls.

Trying to shake off the chill that came over her, Meredith quickly dressed. She was about to leave the room, her hand reaching for the lock she’d bolted only hours ago, when she stopped. The lock was a vivid reminder of what had happened last night, what she’d been trying to keep out.

What could be lurking on the other side of the door.

She quickly turned and scanned her surroundings, searching for something she could use as a weapon. Maybe she was being overly cautious, but she didn’t think that was possible given the circumstances.

Her gaze finally fell on an empty flower vase sitting on the table by the window. Crossing to it, she picked it up, gripping it upside down by the neck. It had some weight to it, and if she hit someone with it, it would either hurt or smash against them. Either sounded good. At the very least she could throw it if necessary. It wasn’t perfect, but at least it was something.

The hallway was empty when she finally stepped out of her room. She eyed the closed doors of her guests warily as she passed by. She hadn’t heard anything in the night, and she hoped that meant nothing else had happened. With any luck, everyone was safely in bed, sound asleep.

Quickly making her way downstairs to the office, she checked the phone line. Silence greeted her. It was still dead.

Grimacing, she hung up the phone and headed for the kitchen. She had no idea what time everyone else would be up and expecting breakfast, but at the moment, she could certainly use some coffee.

She wondered if Ellen was awake and working on breakfast. When Meredith had hired her, they’d agreed she would be in the kitchen by six to get started on the meal, but given everything that had happened last night, Meredith wasn’t sure she could count on that or if she even had any reason to.

But when she reached the door, she heard sounds of motion inside the room. She started to push through the door, only to realize at the last second that it might not be Ellen. Pausing, she slowly eased the door open and peered inside.

She exhaled when she spotted Ellen working at the counter, preparing a tray of muffins for the oven.

As soon as Meredith stepped into the room, Ellen jerked her head up. Meredith didn’t miss the way the woman tensed as she looked to see who it was. Or how she relaxed slightly when she saw it was Meredith.

“Good morning,” Meredith said, working up a smile.

“Morning,” Ellen replied with a nod. “I wasn’t sure what time everyone would be up after...everything that happened last night, but I figured I might as well get a start on things.”

“Thank you,” Meredith said. Moving to the island, she set her vase on the countertop. “I know this isn’t what you signed on for. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to quit on the spot and barricade yourself in your room until the police get here.”

“Sounds like it’ll be a while until that happens, and I’ve found it’s best to keep busy as much as possible. Better than sitting around thinking about a killer running around, or trying to find a new job.”

Meredith couldn’t help but frown at the woman’s words. A second later, Ellen looked up and met Meredith’s eyes, a hint of apology in hers.

“I don’t mean to be insensitive, but I have to be realistic, right? There’s not much chance there will be any more weddings here after this.”

Meredith’s heart sank, a rock-hard feeling settling low in her gut. In the middle of all the madness last night, she hadn’t really had time to think about it. Or maybe she just hadn’t wanted to. Hearing Ellen say the words made it impossible to ignore the issue any longer.

The other woman was right, of course. There was likely no chance the wedding business could continue after this. Even if anyone actually would want to hold their wedding here, Meredith doubted she had it in her to try again. Not to mention she would always wonder if someone else would try to take advantage of Sutton Hall’s history to hurt somebody. She couldn’t put anyone at risk again.

A wave of sadness crashed over her. The wedding business was supposed to be her fresh start. When she’d first come here and started making plans, she’d been happier than she’d felt in a long time. She remembered the excitement of those months when she’d first begun preparing the place for guests, all the dreams she’d had of joyous celebrations, of happy couples, happy endings... She’d never imagined how horribly wrong everything would go.

An instant later, she shook off the feeling. A woman had died. That was far worse than her dreams being dashed. She would simply have to move on and start over.

She’d done it before.

If Ellen was at all disappointed by this turn of events, she certainly didn’t show it. “I have to admit, you don’t sound too upset at the idea,” Meredith observed.

The cook gave a little shrug and turned back to the muffins. “Something else I’ve learned over the years—no point being sad over things you can’t control. And I have to say, maybe it is for the best.”

“What do you mean?”

“To have something like this happen at another wedding...maybe there just aren’t supposed to be weddings here. Sure seems that way.”

Meredith frowned. “Did you feel that way before?”

Ellen hesitated for a moment before admitting, “I thought about it. Most folks around here did. Can’t really blame us, can you?”

“Then why did you want to work here?”

“A job’s a job. And who could have thought something this terrible would happen again?”

Indeed. The woman’s attitude made sense, but Meredith couldn’t help but be a little bothered by it. Then again, Ellen had no reason to be as invested in this place as much as Meredith. It really was just a job to her, not her dream.

She heard the door behind her suddenly swing open. Her pulse leaping, Meredith jerked toward the sound.

Tom stood just inside the room, holding the swinging door open. Those deep blue eyes zeroed in on her. Something that looked an awful lot like relief flashed across his face.

“There you are,” he said.

At the confirmation that he’d been looking for her, her heart did a foolish, ridiculous little lurch in her chest. “Did you need something?” she asked. The words had barely left her mouth when a terrible suspicion hit her. “Did something happen?”

“No,” he said quickly, stepping forward into the room. “I went by your room and there was no answer. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Like I said last night, I’m not sure how safe it is to be wandering around here alone.”

As much as she believed she didn’t need his concern, she couldn’t help but feel a little touched by it. “I’m fine,” she assured him with a smile. “I’m surprised you’re up this early. I figured everybody might want to stay in bed later after last night.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted.

“Do you need coffee as badly as I do?” she asked.

“I’d love some.”

“Coming right up.” She turned toward the other woman. “Ellen, is—”

“Freshly brewed and ready to be poured.” The cook nodded toward the counter.

“Thank you,” Meredith said, her earlier annoyance with the woman momentarily forgotten.

“Sure thing.” Her mouth curving at the corners, the cook shot her a look Meredith couldn’t quite read. Then Ellen’s gaze shifted to Tom for a second, her smile deepening, before she turned back to her work.

Meredith could feel a flush climbing in her cheeks. She focused on pulling two mugs from the cabinet and pouring the coffee. “I was thinking it might be worthwhile to go through Haley’s things. There might be a clue or something that could indicate who might have killed her. I know it’s a crime scene, but the most important thing right now is to figure out who did this. I can’t sit around and do nothing knowing there’s a killer on the loose.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” he agreed, though she detected a hint of hesitancy in his voice. She knew how hard it had to be for him to believe that one of his friends could be a killer. Maybe he was wondering if he truly wanted to find anything in Haley’s room, something that could very well prove one of those friends was involved. Of course, if they didn’t find anything it might be further proof that the killer wasn’t one of his friends, but someone else....

Meredith resisted the instinctive urge to glance at Ellen. She wanted to believe neither of her employees was responsible. It made more sense that Haley had been killed by someone who’d known her, not a complete stranger. But if the killer wasn’t a member of the wedding party, it had to be one of the staff. Rick or Ellen.

Ellen, who evidently hadn’t believed the weddings should continue, and didn’t seem all that upset that they wouldn’t or that she’d have to find another job...

Pushing the thoughts aside, Meredith turned back to Tom and held out the coffee cup to him. “It might be good if you could document the room, as well,” she said. “So the police know where everything was before we moved any of it.”

“I can do that,” he agreed. “Not a problem.”

She watched him lift the cup to his lips and take a sip. In spite of everything, she felt a little shiver of awareness at the knowledge they’d soon be alone again, working together.

In a room where a murder had been committed, she reminded herself, an entirely different shiver quaking through her. And that was all that mattered.

* * *

T
HE
UPSTAIRS
HALLWAY
had been quiet and still when Tom had left his room. He’d expected the others were still in bed, and after the night they’d had, he’d figured they’d stay there for hours. But it was only five minutes later when the others began to appear, congregating in the dining room.

Alex was the first to arrive, peering blearily around the room. “Coffee?” he blurted out when he spotted Tom.

Tom pointed to the carafes—one regular, one decaf—Meredith had set out on a side table. “The one on the left is the one you want.”

Scott and Rachel followed soon after, then Jessica, with Greg close behind. No one looked particularly happy to be up, and everyone seemed nervous, glancing around the room uneasily as soon as they stepped inside.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up this early,” Tom told them, trying to keep his tone somewhat upbeat.

“I heard people in the hall and figured everyone was coming down,” Jessica said. “I didn’t want to be the only one upstairs.” She plunked what looked like a heavy bookend on the table next to her plate.

“What’s that?” Alex asked.

“I’m not walking around here unarmed.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Rachel murmured.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Greg said. As he said it, he set an unopened bottle of wine he’d been holding by the neck onto the table.

Tom couldn’t blame them for the impulse, but the idea of everyone walking around with a weapon, nervous and ready to lash out at the slightest hint of danger, seemed like a recipe for disaster. Someone was destined to get hurt.

Then again, with a killer in the house likely intending to strike again, that was already a very real possibility.

As if she’d heard the others come in, Meredith suddenly backed through the kitchen door, carrying a tray laden with dishes. She held the door, and Ellen came through a few seconds later, pushing a cart bearing more plates. The incredible aromas Tom had smelled in the kitchen earlier began to fill the room. The others mostly began to perk up slightly at the arrival of the food.

Tom rose to his feet. “Can I help you with that?” he asked Meredith, already starting to push away from the table.

She gave her head a firm shake. “No. I have it. You’re a guest here. Thank you, though.”

She gently eased the tray onto the table and immediately began to unload the dishes. Settling back in his chair, Tom watched her work with a growing sense of admiration. She moved quickly, graciously tending to each of her guests in turn. Her smile remained in place, her tone courteous and upbeat. There was no hint of the tension she had to be feeling given the circumstances. Looking at her, no one would have believed anything was wrong.

Everyone began reaching for the dishes. All but one, Tom suddenly noticed. Jess didn’t reach for the food, surveying the meal, Ellen and Meredith with open suspicion.

“Something wrong, Jess?” he asked.

Every eye in the room moved toward her. Jessica raised her chin, staring straight at Ellen. “Are we sure it’s safe to eat?”

Everyone froze. Tom sensed a few of them glancing down at their plates.

Ellen’s smile didn’t waver, but Tom didn’t miss the hint of outrage that flashed in her eyes as Jess’s meaning hit home. It quickly disappeared as she raised a brow and met Jess’s stare. “If I’d wanted to poison you folks, I could have done it last night at dinner and saved myself all this trouble, now couldn’t I?” Without waiting for a response, she spun away and swept into the kitchen.

The uncomfortable silence remained in her wake. Jess didn’t look remotely chagrined, clamping her lips together in a tight line. No one seemed to know what to do.

Finally Tom reached out and plucked a biscuit from the basket in front of him. Lifting it to his mouth, he took a big—and pointed—bite and began chewing. “Tastes good to me,” he said, not having to fake his enthusiasm.

Within moments, Greg picked up the dish of eggs. The others soon followed. Finally even Jess reached for a piece of toast. It wasn’t long before they were all eating.

Tom met Meredith’s eyes, gratitude shining in her gaze. He nodded shortly, trying to ignore the feeling that filled his chest at her thankfulness. As reasonable as he knew it was for the wedding party to suspect the staff—and vice versa—they couldn’t afford to turn on each other. It would only make things more unbearable—and dangerous—around here. And Ellen was right. If she
was
the killer, why would she have gone through the trouble of dragging the body into the hall to terrify them, only to poison them all the next morning? No, whoever the killer was—though he wasn’t ruling her out completely—that person was playing a longer game.