No Holds Barred Read online

  “First weekend of September. Adair has already put our names on the wedding schedule. Daryl flew into Albany yesterday on some kind of business, and since I’m attending and presenting at a big wedding fair at one of the malls, I’m going to join him for dinner, and then I’m bringing him back here for the weekend. He wants to be here for that photo shoot tomorrow with Architectural Digest. He’s looking forward to meeting Piper.”

  “Is he worried about the shoot?”

  “No. Daryl checked out the man who’s coming. Russell Arbogast is a senior editor and writer with the magazine. They’ve been running a series on Scottish castles and they want to include a feature article on the replica Angus One built of his ancestral home. With Cam and Adair both gone, Daryl didn’t want me to have to handle it alone.”

  “It’s always good to have the CIA on the premises for backup.”

  Vi smiled at him. “The only person who might not be a happy camper this weekend is Piper. I can’t imagine she’s taking well to the idea of being boxed in and…bodyguarded.”

  Duncan sipped coffee. “I’ve asked her to help me with a case we both have an interest in. The Rose Petal Killer. We’re going to see if there’s a way we can put Patrick Lightman back in jail. The files are being delivered this morning.”

  “How clever of you. It’s the perfect project for her. I can see why you’re good at your job.”

  “I also told her about Cam’s certainty that the rest of Eleanor’s sapphires are somewhere on the estate.”

  “Daryl and I agree with him on that.”

  As he speared more bacon, Duncan asked, “Why do you think she buried one of the earrings separately?”

  Vi sipped her tea. “You’re assuming Eleanor did it?”

  “They were hers. And she wore them in her wedding portrait. The fact that there’s no record of them after her death argues that she’s the one who hid them. Angus died first, so that lets him off the hook unless they hid them together at some point. Cam has my mom researching the Mary Stuart connection, but that photo they reprinted in the Times article argues heavily in favor of the tradition that’s been handed down about their connection to Mary Stuart. They’re worth a fortune now. But even back then, they would have had that added value. If I had something like that, I’d protect it.”

  “From what?” Vi asked.

  He smiled at her. “Good question.”

  With a smile, she reached over and laid a hand over one of his in a gesture that he remembered from that long-ago summer. “You’ll figure it out. That’s what you do best.”

  A chime sounded, followed by muffled knocks on a door.

  “That will be Russell Arbogast.” Vi rose from her chair and carried her teacup to the sink. “He wanted to bring his photographer here for a tour prior to the shoot tomorrow.”

  At the kitchen door, Vi turned and waved her hands in a shooing gesture. “Go on out and check on Piper. She’s probably fallen asleep. There were mornings when I’d find all three of them sleeping in that stone arch.”

  Duncan exited through the terrace doors and headed toward the garden path. He heard the jingle of a bell before he spotted Piper on the grass in front of the stone arch. The impact on his senses was instantaneous. Every muscle in his body tightened and hardened; heat flared in his center and then spun outward just as it had yesterday morning when she’d barged into her apartment, and yesterday afternoon when she’d stepped into the alley.

  He had no control over the way his body reacted to her. He’d always preferred to have control where women were concerned, and he’d never had a problem before.

  She didn’t even seem to be aware of him right now. She tossed a stick and then waited for the dog to retrieve it, a game that both dog and woman seemed to be thoroughly enjoying. The jingling bell hung from the dog’s neck as a precaution in case she wandered off.

  There was a car parked in front of the house, a new black SUV. Aunt Vi’s visitors, he assumed. He paused beneath a trellis covered in roses and turned his full attention back to Piper. She wore comfortable-looking sweats and sneakers. Her hair tumbled down over her shoulders. When she tossed the stick, then raced with the dog to get it, her hair flew out behind her like a flag.

  It had felt like silk, sliding through his fingers when he’d kissed her, and he wondered just how long he could wait to get his hands in it again. He could cross the distance to her in seconds, he thought. And once he closed that distance and touched her again, he couldn’t trust himself to stop.

  He’d promised her that she would make the decision. Not so much because he was generous or thoughtful, but because he was hesitant. Very few things made him feel that way. Oh, he made a practice of sitting back and studying all the angles of a situation before he acted. But once he knew what he wanted, once he saw the answer, he went after it.

  He wanted Piper. He’d never wanted anyone as much. So she was unknown territory for him. He’d recognized that much seven years ago. The one thing he was certain of was that they were going to make love. The attraction between them was too intense for either one of them to walk away.

  The problem was he couldn’t see what lay beyond that. Pursuing a relationship with her would be like plunging off a cliff into a river without knowing what would happen next.

  Duncan had always preferred to know.

  The ringing of his cell interrupted his thoughts. Pulling it out, he noted the ID. Mike Nelson. A glance at his watch told him that the detective had probably just arrived at his office.

  “Good or bad news?” he asked.

  “A mixed bag,” Mike said. “I checked out Suzanne Macks’s family. All of them, including her brother, Sid, have a solid alibi for yesterday morning. He was working the night shift at a pediatric care unit. He left the hospital at seven-thirty. Of course, he could have hired someone, so we’ll keep working on that angle. We’re still checking Macy’s stores. There are a hell of a lot of them in the area. But we’ve got a date from the sales slip, and someone may recall selling a single sheet like that.”

  “And?” Duncan prompted. Mike hadn’t called him merely to report on progress. Duncan had called him before he and Piper had left her apartment last night to report the delivery of the vase of roses, and they’d left her key taped to the underside of her stair railing.

  “I dropped by Ms. MacPherson’s apartment on my way into the office.”

  Not good, Duncan thought. Mike lived in Maryland and a jaunt through Georgetown was not on his way.

  “I figured I’d pick up the flower delivery and save a uniformed officer the trip. I got there about the time she’d be going out for her run just in case someone showed up. No one did.”

  “But…” Duncan prompted again.

  “Someone had visited the place before I did, and they left another bouquet of red roses in front of her door.”

  “Was there a message?”

  “‘Till next time.’”

  Duncan let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. Whoever was after her wasn’t letting up.

  “I went in to collect the delivery from last night. Different florist shop. But the messages are written in the same block letters. I’ll have someone check both stores out today. Thought you’d want to know.”

  “Thanks, Mike,” Duncan said.

  “Serve and protect. That’s the job description,” Mike said with a yawn. “I’ll keep you updated. You keep her safe. She’s taking a hell of a beating in the press here. Suddenly, she’s the new poster girl for setting a serial killer free. Getting her out of town for a bit was a good idea.”

  Duncan was about to repocket his phone when it rang again. This time it was his boss.

  “Adrienne, what’s up?”

  “Just checking in. I’m assuming you and Ms. MacPherson are together and safe.”

  “That was my assignment,” Duncan said.

  “I’m worried. The press coverage she’s getting makes her out to be an even bigger villain than my brother. That can bring the crazies
out of the closet.”

  Duncan watched as an overnight delivery service truck appeared in the drive that ended at the castle doors. Piper noticed it also and then seemed to notice him.

  As she moved in his direction, he filled Adrienne in on the two flower deliveries.

  There were several beats of silence on the other end of the line. He could picture Adrienne in her office pacing. Thinking. He let the beats continue.

  “I never asked where you were going. And I don’t want to know. Abe has already called me to find out where Piper is in case he needs to ask questions about the Bronwell trial. She hasn’t been picking up her cell.”

  “Tell him to keep trying,” Duncan said.

  “Tell her to keep a lid on her location. It might have been someone in Abe’s office who leaked the information that she was involved in the Lightman brief.”

  As the deliveryman in the truck walked toward him, Duncan thought of how easy it might be to figure out exactly where he was. And exactly where Piper MacPherson might have sought temporary refuge. “You’re worried.”

  “All the media attention could get Lightman focused on her. Find something that will allow us to put him back in jail.”

  “Consider it done. I’m taking delivery on the files I shipped as we speak.” Duncan moved toward the deliveryman so that he could sign.

  “Thanks,” Adrienne said.

  Duncan repocketed his cell. Adrienne had come to him at her brother’s request to get Piper safely out of the way. Now she suspected someone in his office might have played a role in what was happening to her. Did she suspect Abe?

  An interesting question, Duncan thought. And one he’d been trained to find the answer to.

  He’d also been trained about what to do with regards to his feelings for Piper MacPherson. Considering the danger she was in—the danger she could be in—he should put anything personal on hold. He thought about that as she walked to join him on the driveway, the dog at her heels.

  He could keep her safe from whoever had left the sheet and the roses. He wished he could be equally certain about keeping either of them safe from what they were feeling.

  6

  “WHAT DO YOU THINK, ALBA?” Piper turned in a full circle for the dog’s benefit before she faced herself in the mirror again. Alba was sitting at the foot of her bed, her head raised and cocked to one side.

  “No comment, huh?” She could hardly blame the dog. All in all, it was a diplomatic response. She just wasn’t a femme fatale. And her wardrobe components were sadly lacking. The jeans and Georgetown T-shirt she’d dug out of her suitcase were pretty much the cream of the crop. And the best word she could come up with to describe the outfit was plain.

  “He didn’t give me any time to pack. Plus, I was thinking comfortable clothes for poking around in the library and searching through files. My only salvation is that I do have a weakness for pretty underwear. Wearing boring and conservative ‘law suits’ can do that to a woman.”

  Glancing at Alba, she pressed a hand against her stomach to stop the nerves from jittering. She was babbling to a dog who couldn’t hear her and taking way too much time to get dressed.

  She’d made a decision, hadn’t she? If she could find the courage to act on it. She’d already missed one opportunity when Duncan had first come to the edge of the garden. Though she’d continued to toss sticks to Alba, she’d been aware of him in every pore of her body. Her heart had started racing, breaths had been harder to catch, and the image had flashed brilliantly into her mind of just racing to him and jumping him right there beneath the rose trellis. It would have been wild and wonderful and totally unlike her.

  But so exactly like her fantasy. With a sigh, she sat down on the bed next to the dog. “I have sex-on-demand on the brain all right. But I chickened out.”

  Instead of making her fantasy a reality, she’d picked up the stick, tossed it in a direction away from Duncan, and then raced Alba to get it.

  Oh, she’d made a case for her cowardice. There’d been those two visitors who had arrived in the SUV a short time earlier. One had been dressed like a fashion plate, the other had carried a camera. If either or both were prospective clients, Aunt Vi would no doubt show them around. Piper was pretty sure that the sight of naked people coupling beneath the rose trellis wasn’t on the regular tour. And something else had given her pause. When she’d allowed herself to take a quick look at Duncan out of the corner of her eye, she’d seen that she was probably alone in her thoughts about naked coupling. He’d been on his phone.

  But then, he hadn’t started his day reading a red-hot fantasy with him in the leading role. She had.

  The jingle of a bell brought Piper’s full attention back to Alba, who had settled her head on her paws and was studying her intently.

  “Here’s the problem. Duncan and I might not be on the same wavelength. He seems totally focused on the work he came up here to do.”

  When she’d finally approached him in the driveway of the castle, he’d invited her to join him in the library and start working on the RPK files after she’d eaten something. Then Duncan had turned his attention back to the deliveryman and the stack of boxes he’d unloaded from his truck.

  “Very businesslike. Very FBI. Maybe he’s just doing what he said he’d do—letting me make the decision.”

  Alba merely returned her gaze.

  Piper frowned. “Or maybe he’s having second thoughts about the whole exploring thing.”

  Alba remained silent.

  She sprang up from the bed and paced a few feet away. “Now that I can see. The main reason he wanted me to come up here with him was to keep me out of harm’s way.” She turned back to face the dog. “All the Sutherlands have this protective streak that runs deep. A kind of inner white knight—rescue-the-damsel-in-distress thing. Only I don’t need someone to rescue me. And I don’t need someone to back out on a deal.”

  Alba raised her head, jingling her bell.

  “Exactly. I may have some wardrobe problems, but I have the winning argument. Sex on demand. Anytime, anyplace, any way. It’s the perfect relationship for us. Win-win.” As she spoke, some of the images from her fantasies slipped into her mind, but she pushed them ruthlessly away. It was time to stop thinking about them and make them real.

  “I’ll just have to make my case. And I’m good at deflating counterarguments. C’mon, girl.” She strode to the door and opened it. Then with Alba at her heels, she headed down the hall and started down the stairs.

  * * *

  DUNCAN STOOD JUST INSIDE THE first-floor entrance to the library. But it was not where he wanted to be. He’d been at loose ends ever since he’d watched Piper run up the grand staircase to change her clothes. And he’d checked his watch several times, wondering why she hadn’t joined him yet.

  Twenty minutes had gone by, but it seemed longer. After he’d sent the deliveryman on his way, he’d fixed a plate of food for Piper to graze on and put it in the library. Then Vi had invited him into the main parlor to meet Russell Arbogast and his photographer Deanna Lewis. Both had seemed fascinated by Eleanor’s portrait and the sapphires. Duncan sensed Arbogast had been less than pleased with the news that they wouldn’t be allowed access to the library during their photo shoot. But Vi had smoothed over the news by showing them Angus One’s secret cupboard.

  Cam and Daryl had decided that no one outside the family would be allowed access to the library until they figured out exactly who’d been visiting it secretly. And that particular mystery was part of the reason he’d come to the castle, Duncan reminded himself.

  He stifled the urge to look at his watch again. It was time to focus on work.

  Closing the door behind him, he stepped farther into the long, narrow room and tried to clear his mind. Once Piper joined him that could be problematic. Intellectually, he might have decided to keep his distance, but when she’d walked up to him in the driveway, he’d had to stuff his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her. Right now, he wanted to g
o find her.

  Ruthlessly, he pushed that thought aside and made himself focus on the library as if it were a crime scene. The room was two stories high with an iron-railed walkway running around the second level of bookshelves. Cam’s theory was that after successfully gaining access to the castle, the intruder had entered through the door he’d just closed. The sunlight filtering in through the sliding glass doors that opened to a terrace on this level and a balcony on the floor above didn’t do much to penetrate the gloom. In the middle of the night, the intruder would have needed a flashlight—a high-powered one.

  As Duncan strode down the length of the room, the scent of dust and leather assaulted his senses. Piper’s father had locked the room up after his first wife’s death, and the last person who’d made any use of the room had been his mother when she’d done her research that summer nearly two decades ago. Books stuffed the shelves both horizontally and vertically. Others had spilled into piles on the floor. If someone had come here with the intention of finding some clue to the whereabouts of Eleanor’s jewels, it would be a formidable task. Even with a small crew of helpers, it would take time to search through all the books on both floors.

  But Cam believed it had been one intruder, someone who’d begun that search in a very careful and organized fashion. The only evidence he or she had left behind had been in disturbing the dust on the lower shelves along one wall from the outside terrace doors to well past the fireplace.

  Duncan studied the shelved books as he walked back the way he’d come. He noted the way the dust had been disturbed and in some cases cleaned away. Then he walked around the entire perimeter of the room. None of the other shelves looked disturbed, and he estimated that in six months, the intruder had methodically looked through less than one third of the library’s collection. Which meant he could have more than a year’s work ahead of him.

  That argued for both patience and determination. But it also indicated the same kind of obsession that most serial killers had when they stalked their prey. Whoever had paid regular visits to this library wanted those sapphires and they wouldn’t give up. Obviously, someone believed that the priceless jewels were still here on the grounds somewhere and that there was some kind of clue—a map or drawings, a diary perhaps, that would reveal the location. Or locations. Maybe they’d even suspected that the sapphires might have been concealed in one of the books. People frequently used books as hiding places. All Eleanor would have had to do was hollow out the center, tuck her dowry inside and place the book on a shelf with all the others.