Dangerous Relations Read online

  "So your brain tells you. But it still hasn't registered with the rest of you."

  "How did you know?"

  "It figures. Besides, I'm your mother." Vera closed her eyes, as if thinking of what to say next. "Did you write that letter for Renata?"

  "Yes."

  Vera sighed. "I hope there are no repercussions. That Maxwell Crewe is bad news. Renata paid a pretty penny to keep him out of jail a few years ago. And he can be spiteful when he's crossed."

  "Mother! I simply wrote a letter. Don't make a big thing out of it."

  "Now I'm wondering if he was the animal who attacked you."

  "I didn't see him, but I doubt it was Renata's nephew."

  Vera moved her wheelchair close and grasped Ardin's hand. "Please, dear, be careful. I worry about you, with all that's been happening."

  "I will." Ardin kissed her mother's cheek, and got up to leave.

  This time Vera made no move to stop her. "Make sure you lock the doors and set the alarm system when you get back to Julia's house. What will you do tonight?"

  Ardin shrugged. "I'll think of something."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The only something she could think of to fill up her Saturday night was bringing in dinner from the new fish restaurant and renting a romantic comedy. A boring, lonely evening loomed before her instead of a romantic interlude with Brett.

  But there was no point in fretting over it. Perhaps her mother was right, that she'd sabotaged her evening out of fear of getting emotionally involved. Ardin hoped not. That meant she was a bigger fool than she'd imagined herself to be.

  Not that it mattered in the long run. Once she returned to her real life in Manhattan, her brief fling with Brett would be a memory. The important thing was convincing the judge she'd make Leonie the best possible parent. Then her job would be to help Leonie adjust to her new home ASAP.

  She felt a stab of guilt at the thought of fighting Brett for Leonie. Leonie loved her "daddy", but she loved her Cousin Ardin, too. And Ardin had Suziette's will to show her preference.

  Still, she felt bad, knowing this would hurt Brett. He'd always been generous about including her in plans involving Leonie. And he'd showed no resentment because she was taking care of the little girl when he felt she should be with him.

  I could call him to see how he's doing.

  What good would that do? her devil's advocate voice said. You've dropped your bombshell, and you've no intention of changing your plans. So keep away from him--for his sake and your own.

  The broiled tuna was surprisingly good, as were the side veggies and rice. Once she'd disposed of the dirty dishes, Ardin poured herself another glass of Chardonnay, and carried it into the den.

  She finished off most of a quart of rocky road ice cream as she watched the movie, and was sobbing uncontrollably at the soppy end.

  Ten minutes to nine and no place to go. "Time for a nice, sudsy bath," she said in the tone of voice she'd use with Leonie if she weren't the kind of kid who loved playing in the bathtub. Ardin rummaged through a pile of magazines in the sitting room for some mindless reading while she settled in for a long soak.

  After pinning up her hair, she stuck a toe in the water. "Perfect temperature. Now for some lovely down time."

  She stretched out in the aromatic bath, and winced when her head touched the hard surface of the tub. A memory of the brutal attack flashed before her, and she shivered despite the hot water. A wave of pure terror washed over her, as, for the first time that day, she faced what had happened. What made it worse was knowing her attacker must be the same man who had murdered Suziette.

  Who was he, and what was he after? Ardin shivered again. He hadn't tried to garrote her, so he must have been looking for something.

  Something of hers, not something belonging to her mother.

  No, something he assumed Suziette had given to Ardin.

  Which led straight back to her theory that Suziette had been killed because she was blackmailing the murderer. Just as Dimitri had tried to do.

  But what could Suziette possibly have known? No doubt something one of her lovers told her, something she held over his head.

  Was it Corey? Funny how her speculations always led her back to her ex-husband. It still hurt to realize he'd been Suziette's lover before he'd married her. A sudden stabbing pain caught her unawares as she wondered if Corey had married her to taunt Suziette.

  Brett cares for me. She closed her eyes. Thinking about Brett was one hundred times more painful than thinking about Corey. Corey was the past, while Brett was her present. Had been her present, until she told him of her plans to adopt Leonie.

  She couldn't bear to think about Brett, wondering how he was spending his evening. Instead, she tried to imagine what Leonie was doing that very minute. Leonie was the one golden light among all the awful things happening around her. The little girl had been amazingly resilient and in good spirits since her mother's death.

  But how much upheaval could she tolerate? For the first time, Ardin wondered if taking her to live in Manhattan was wise. Thornedale was familiar and filled with family and friends. Leonie was bound to find living in the city strange and different.

  "And exciting," Ardin spoke aloud. Her words echoed hollowly in the large bathroom. Her aunt certainly didn't want her to take Leonie to live in New York. But that was where Ardin lived, for God's sake. She couldn't very well move back to Thornedale just to please her aunt.

  A clap of thunder shattered the silence, its vibrations rumbling through the house. Lightning flashed, bright as daylight, across the frosted window panes. A thunderstorm in Thornedale, with its electrical outages, was no time for a bubble bath.

  Quickly Ardin stepped out of the tub. She wrapped herself in a plush bath sheet and hurried to her room to dress. The lights flickered as she pulled on clean underwear, jeans, and a polo shirt. They flared when she was tying the laces of her sneakers, and then went out leaving the house in total darkness.

  Ardin fought to stem the wild panic rising in her chest. It's just an outage, and has nothing to do with Suziette's murder.

  "I need a flashlight." She struggled to focus on the practical. "I saw one in the kitchen desk drawer. Now to find out if the battery's working."

  Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. She could make out the dim outlines of furniture, the doorway. She felt her way along the wall until she faced the staircase.

  As she took the first step down, she heard the sound of cracking glass. She spun around in time to see a bright arc of fire land on the floor of Suziette's room. Flames leaped from the rug. The acrid smell of smoke permeated the air.

  Must get outside. But her feet remained frozen. The smoke, dense and bitter, drifted closer, filling her mouth and nostrils.

  Move or you'll suffocate! The smoke caught in her lungs. She coughed, and coughed again, bent down to gulp in air. The action released the bonds of fear holding her. She raced down the stairs, fumbled with the locks, and flung open the door.

  She snatched her purse from the hall table and ran out into the rain. "Help! Fire!"

  She slipped on the outside steps, but righted herself and kept on going until she was halfway down the sloping lawn. Hoarse, rasping sounds frightened her, until she realized they came from her as she gobbled down air to ease her sore throat.

  She was safe. Now she had to save the house. Her cell phone was in her aunt's car, but she didn't dare risk retrieving it. She'd call the fire department from a neighbor's house.

  The houses on both sides of the street were dark because of the outage. Frantically, she looked about for signs of life.

  The faint sound of voices came from just beyond the driveway. The Sonnenbergs! She was heading for the break in the bushes, when she saw a figure running toward her.

  The arsonist, coming to finish the job!

  She veered left toward the street. He chased after her. She heard his heavy panting, his muttered curse as he shoved her to the ground.

  "Ouch!"
She fell in a heap on the sodden lawn.

  A car engine fired. Brakes squealed. The bastard was getting away.

  She tried to stand, but could only sit there, panting. Light swept across her as a car rounded the corner and headed straight for her. He was coming back!

  The car turned onto the driveway and its engine cut to silence. Brett stepped out of his Jeep.

  When he headed for the front door, she realized he hadn't seen her.

  "Brett." It came out as a hoarse whisper. "Brett."

  This time he heard her. He turned around, squinting in the darkness. "Ardin? Is that you?"

  She managed to get to her feet this time, and hobbled toward him. When she stumbled into his open arms, she nearly swooned as she inhaled his familiar scent. She was safe.

  "Ardin, what happened? What are you doing out here?"

  "Call the fire department! Someone set the house on fire. "

  He asked no questions, but reached for his cell phone and made the call. "Someone already called them. They're on their way." He led her to the Jeep and helped her into the passenger seat. Climbing in beside her, he took her into his arms and rocked her back and forth, crooning wordless sounds.

  It was pure heaven to relax in his embrace. She was out of harm's way, at least for the moment. But for how long? Someone had tried to kill her and he'd failed.

  What if he returns?

  "I won't let him get you," he said as he caressed her cheek. "I swear I won't."

  How could he know what she was thinking? She wished what he said was true, and then moaned as her shoulder began to throb, along with her head. "Everything hurts."

  "My poor Ardin. Twice in one day."

  Approaching sirens reminded her of the fire. "My God! The flames are shooting through the roof!"

  The elderly couple from next door emerged from the narrow path between the two houses. "Ardin, what happened? We saw the flames and called the fire department," Don Sonnenberg said. "Are you all right?"

  Dazed, Ardin tried to focus on his face. "I think so."

  "Someone tossed an incendiary into the house, and then he knocked her down," Brett said.

  "Oh, no! Poor dear." Sonya Sonnenberg hovered at the open door of the Jeep. "I swear I don't know what this neighborhood is turning into."

  "Did you happen to see him?" Don said.

  "Not his face," Ardin said. "Only that he was short and heavy."

  "Short and heavy," Brett said. His tone was ominous.

  Before Ardin could ask him what he was thinking, the fire department arrived in full force. The engines parked on the lawn, and the fire fighters sprang to action.

  "I better go talk to the fire chief," Ardin said. She walked past the firemen who, suited up in their black and yellow protective gear, looked larger than life as they set about their grim task. She found the fire chief and explained who she was.

  "Do you know where the fire started?" he said.

  "Someone tossed something through a bedroom window on the second floor."

  She watched the firemen hose down the house. The flames were clearly visible, leaping through the roof.

  She felt sick. "Will they be able to save it?" she asked the fire chief. "I mean, after some reconstruction?"

  "Difficult to say. I'd say total reconstruction."

  Ardin's eyes filled with tears. Poor Aunt Julia. First her only daughter, now her house. She dreaded having to break the news. She turned to Brett, who had come to stand beside her. "Thank God Leonie is away for the night." She shuddered. "The poor child, having to be uprooted again. We'll have to move into a motel."

  "No, you won't," Brett said. "You'll stay with me."

  Ardin shook her head and instantly regretted it, when a blinding pain made her grit her teeth. "Don't be silly, Brett. I can't impose on you."

  "You won't be imposing. You'll be doing it for Leonie." He sounded determined, rather than happy about the arrangement. "Someone's after you, Ardin. Tonight he could have killed Leonie in the process."

  "But she's at the Presleys tonight." She cringed, realizing how silly it sounded.

  Brett snorted. "For God's sake, Ardin, the murderer didn't know that."

  She strove for some sense of order in the chaos that had become her life. "Brett, we can't say for sure that the arsonist is the same person who killed Suziette."

  "Listen, Ardin." She heard the effort he was making to sound calm and reasonable. "It's time you accepted that someone's out to kill you. We'll insist that the police give you a bodyguard, or I'll hire one myself!"

  He was right, damn him. She hadn't believed someone was out to murder her. "What if he started the fire to scare me, then it got out of control." She shuddered, remembering the bulky figure chasing after her. "Really, Brett. He seemed furious when he saw me, and deliberately knocked me down." She thought a moment. "Like a football player tackling someone."

  "Did you recognize him? Is he anyone you know?"

  She remembered what her mother had said about Marshall Crewe. Had the man looked like Renata's nephew? "Could be. I'm not absolutely sure."

  Brett grimaced. "Are you going to let me in on who this guy might be? Corey MacAllister, for instance?"

  "He was too short and fat for Corey. I think it's someone I sent a letter to on behalf of a client."

  "Regardless, we can't risk Leonie getting caught in the crossfire." Brett's tone grew colder, more distant with every word he spoke. "She'll stay at my house, and you can too, if you like. Fight me and I'll take this to court on Monday."

  He would, too. Ardin disliked this new turn of events. She could stay alone at a motel, but she didn't want to leave Leonie. It would weaken her case. "But how will we--arrange things?"

  "Sleeping arrangements, you mean?" His tone was sardonic. "I've plenty of spare bedrooms. You can have your pick."

  "I wasn't thinking about that," she lied. "Just the general arrangements."

  "We're two intelligent adults, Ardin. We'll work something out." He turned toward the Jeep. "Coming?"

  Ardin looked at the garage. It appeared to have been untouched by the fire.

  "Yes, but first I want to speak to the fire chief about getting Aunt Julia's car out. Mine's still in the shop."

  "For God's sake, Ardin! You can get it tomorrow."

  And be dependent on you? "No. I'd rather take it now."

  The fire chief had one of his men check the car to make sure it was safe to drive. He'd just given the okay when a policeman approached.

  "Ms. Wesley? We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind?"

  Might as well get it over. She told him what had happened, clarified some details as requested, and finally said, "Officer, I've been through hell and I'm soaked. I'm leaving for Mr. Waterstone's house now. You can ask any further questions there."

  The policeman frowned as he wrote down Brett's address. "Someone will be there soon."

  Ardin looked around. "Poor Aunt Julia. Wait till she sees what they've done to her front lawn."

  "Not to mention the damage inside the house," Brett said.

  Ardin put her hands to her head. "What am I supposed to tell Leonie?"

  Brett's expression was grim. "We'll tell her she'll be living at home for the time being. At least, she'll be happy about that. See you at the house."

  Despair sunk like a stone to her stomach. Brett was right. Leonie would be happy in her own home again. Not only that, a judge might be less willing to decide on a guardian who insisted on moving Leonie to another state.

  Her hands trembled as she started Julia's car. Maybe driving wasn't a good idea, but it was too late to change plans. She followed the Jeep to Brett's house, glad he was driving slowly.

  How had he happened to be passing the house just as it caught on fire?

  She shrugged. What did it matter? Brett had washed his hands of her. She had heard it in his voice, seen it in his posture.

  He'd only offered her his home for Leonie's sake. She'd best remember that in the difficult da
ys ahead.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Brett drove into the three-car garage and honked twice to indicate there was plenty of room for Julia's Cadillac. Ardin parked in the driveway, making it perfectly clear she was a visitor and not a member of the household.

  He shook his head in exasperation as he disarmed the security system and unlocked the door leading to the kitchen. What in God's name was he thinking when he said she was welcome to stay with him and Leonie? At best she was an unwilling guest. A trapped prisoner was closer to the truth. Ardin would no sooner separate from Leonie than he would under the circumstances.

  He swore softly, remembering how she'd deceived him--letting him believe she'd help him with Leonie's adoption, and all the time scheming to adopt his little darling and take her away to live in Manhattan. She'd misled him deliberately, which made her little better than Suziette.

  Then why had he gone to see her this evening, and why had he invited her to stay here? He hoped it wasn't because he lusted after her luscious body, which was so deceptively slender. One would never suspect its many curves and valleys. He almost moaned as he recalled their unexpected bout of lovemaking, which had stunned them both by its delight and intensity. Only three nights ago, and it seemed like three years. The chasm now separating them was the size of a Mack truck.

  He turned on the kitchen light and studied her profile. Her skin appeared as pale and cold as marble. By now he knew her stony look meant she was struggling to hide her distress. His heart softened to think how hers must be pounding in fear after two attacks in one day.

  He reached out to give her arm a reassuring squeeze, but reconsidered. One touch was enough to send shockwaves through his system. And he certainly didn't want to give her the impression that he'd lured her here to jump her bones. A thought like that was guaranteed to send her running off into the night.

  "I spoke to Rabe. He'll be here any minute," he said, for something to say.

  "Just the person I'm dying to see." She sat down at the kitchen table. Even in damp and dirty clothes, she looked startlingly beautiful.

  "He must be as sick of us as we're sick of him," Brett said.