Gage was about to knock again when the front door swung open. Though she was fifty, Olivia Farrell was still a beautiful woman, with heavy dark brown hair and blue eyes.
“What in the world! I was coming as fast as I could.” Always conscious of her appearance in front of a handsome man, Olivia pulled the sash of her green velvet robe a little snugger around her waist, showing off her trim figure. “What could possibly be so important at this time of the morning?”
Gage’s eyes narrowed and not with appreciation. Abby stepped in front of him before he could lash out. “Aunt Olivia, this is Gage Logan. We need to speak to Jude.”
Olivia raised her chin. “Jude isn’t up yet. He was out late last night.”
“I’ll be happy to wake him up.” Gage pushed past her into an entry lit by a crystal chandelier. The floors were polished hardwood. White molded ceilings soared above the two-story entry. “Which room is he in?”
Olivia’s mouth tightened. “Good grief, Abigail, please tell your rude friend I’ll have Jude call him later, after he’s had breakfast.”
Gage ignored her. Taking the stairs two at a time, he paused at the top to peer down at them over the mahogany railing. “Which room?”
“You’d better tell him, Aunt Liv. Gage won’t leave until he talks to Jude.”And neither will I, she thought.
“Fine. His room is the third door on the left, but I told you, he’s still asleep.”
“Then it’s time he woke up,” Gage growled, storming on down the hall. Abby hurried up the stairs and raced down the hall, catching up with him just as he turned the doorknob and burst into the bedroom.
In a pair of rumpled flannel Avenger pajamas, Jude jerked upright, blinking against the morning light shining through the windows. His head swiveled toward the door, and he stared at Gage with wild, disbelieving eyes. “Who the hell are you?”
“Your worst nightmare.” Gage grabbed the collar of Jude’s pajama top at the back of his neck, hauled him out of bed and across the room, and shoved him into a chair.
“Mother! Mom!” Jude started to rise, but Gage shoved him back down.
“Sit down, and shut the hell up!”
Jude clamped his lips together but couldn’t keep them from trembling. Abby cast a worried glance at Jude’s round, terrified face, which seemed to heat Gage’s temper even more.
He focused on Jude. “How old are you, anyway? Thirteen or thirty? You little worm. You weren’t man enough to go after Abby yourself. You had to hire your buddies to do your dirty work.”
“I-I don’t know what y-you’re talking about.”
Abby felt her own temper climbing. She marched up in front of her cousin. “So I guess you haven’t heard about your good friend Boyd McGrath.”
“What about him?”
“Boyd is dead,” Gage said coldly. “Your friend Sean is in jail, along with the two guys McGrath hired to follow us into the mountains.”
The color drained from Jude’s face. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That so?” Gage drawled. “That’s not what Sean said. He was singing like a bird as the sheriff hauled his sorry ass away.”
Jude swallowed, his glance straying to the open door. Olivia Farrell appeared out in the hallway, as haughty as a queen, though she still wore her robe.
“Don’t worry, son. I called the police. It won’t take them long to get here.”
A sharp knock sounded at the front door. “Police! Open the door!”
Olivia smiled smugly. “My, they are certainly efficient. I just hung up the phone.”
Gage didn’t move. Abby looked at him, but he just shook his head. Abby had a feeling this wasn’t going down the way her aunt thought. Olivia went downstairs to open the front door, and a few seconds later, the thunder of heavy footfalls pounded up the stairs.
Uniformed officers swarmed into the bedroom. “Jude Preston Farrell?”
“That’s right. These people are trespassing in our home. Please arrest them.”
One of the officers, tall and silver-haired—Jennings, his badge read—cracked a smile. “Sorry, buddy, you’re the one under arrest.”
