And based on the fact that she rarely did, he knew it might mean nothing. But he’d had to try.
For all he knew, the wallet line was a ruse for Bradley to get Fiona into bed at his house.
Or sprawled over that big old desk in her shop.
He banished those thoughts as he sped down the highway, ignoring the fact that he was well over the speed limit, and trying to figure out how he’d explain Iva’s Tarot-card reading warning to a cop if he got pulled over.
His car squealed a little as he turned the corner off the exit ramp, then purred down the streets of Wicks Hollow till he got to Violet Way.
The shop was dark. There was a car across the street, but he didn’t recognize it. However, it was a sleek Jaguar—just the sort of vehicle a politician like Bradley Forth might drive. Maybe they were somewhere else.
Like Ethan’s cabin. Or even Fiona’s apartment—which Gideon himself had only been to once.
Just about to turn away from the dark shop and plan his next step, Gideon noticed a faint light in the back of the shop come on, then go off. Then, moments later, a very bright light glowed from the back.
That did it.
He tried the door, and to his shock and amazement, it opened. Unfortunately, bell above jingled as he slipped in, making his presence known.
“Fiona?” he called.
Only three lamps had been lit, and the shadows loomed tall and dark. Everything was silent and eerie. Gideon felt a shiver crawl up his spine as he stepped a few more paces into the shop. “Fiona, are you here?”
“She’s a bit indisposed at the moment.”
The voice snapped through the air and Gideon turned to face Bradley Forth—who had a gun pointed straight at him.
His insides tightened and he gritted his teeth, ignoring the threat of the weapon. “If you’ve hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
Forth laughed. “You sound like a frigging B-movie actor, Nath. Why don’t you step this way before my trigger finger shows you how happy it is to see you.”
“Where’s Fiona?” Gideon snapped, but turned as the gesturing gun insisted he do. There was no sense in getting himself shot before he found out what was going on.
The metal poked him in the back, but they hadn’t taken two steps toward the bowels of the shop when a gust of wind blasted toward them.
Gideon paused, frowning. The gust was cold and sudden, and brought with it the strong scent of roses…and then it was gone. The gun jabbed at him, and Gideon saw Forth look warily around the shop.
“What is that?” Forth said furiously.
Gideon didn’t reply, but the hair on the back of his neck had lifted. And all at once, he remembered Fiona’s babbling about unplugged lamps and odd things happening in the shop.
He tripped and nearly stumbled over something in his path.
“Fiona,” he gasped, heedless of the gun behind him, and fell to his knees beside her crumpled body. Thank God there was no blood, and she was breathing…but she wasn’t moving and her skin felt cold and clammy.
He didn’t have a chance to do anything more than touch her face before Forth stalked up beside him. “She’s all right—for now. You being here is going to make this a lot easier for me, Nath. I was going to have to stage this to look like another break-in, but now I can just make it look like a lovers’ tryst gone bad.”
He stepped back, the gun still clutched in his hand as he gestured around the shop. “A few candles, a bit of wine, and a little carelessness…you knock the candles over and the whole place goes up in smoke—the two of you along with it.”
Gideon pulled slowly to his feet, taking care not to make any sudden move. “All right, Forth. What am I missing?” He leaned casually against a table, noticing a short brass statue of a Buddha that looked like it’d pack a good wallop.
“My uncle was not a nice man. He was one of Hitler’s elite, and somehow managed to escape here in Grand Rapids. If it ever came out that Nevio Valente was the notorious Josef Kremer, I’d be ruined. My political career would be over hardly before it started.”
He glared down at Fiona’s still figure. “The old man wrote everything down. He had a journal and puteverythingin it—even boasted to me once about how he’d bashed his old lady on the head because she’d tracked him down and threatened to expose him. That was Gretchen. Must be the body you found here.
“The old bastard made me sit and listen to him, time and time again, over and over. He promised he’d leave me the money, but there wasn’t any mention of it in the will. Nothing. And then he gave this shop toher. It was a slap in the face, after all I’d done for him, sitting and listening and keeping it all a secret for years.”
“Were you the one blackmailing him?” Gideon asked.
