To get those answers, she needed to ask the woman one more question—about the truth Diggins sought.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Mrs. Monroe said. “I fear I’ve made a mistake in inviting you here. I know I haven’t provided the answers you were looking for in terms of completing your father’s book. There’s another darker secret behind it all, and perhaps it shouldn’t be unearthed. I—”
A loud thump resounded from upstairs at the same time the lights flickered.
24
Braden ushered Evelyn and Cressida away from the window.
“It’s just the wind,” Evelyn said. “Takes the power out at times.”
“I’d agree, except for the thump upstairs. Is anyone else in the house?” Braden had watched her assistant drive away.
She slowly shook her head.
“I need to check that out.” The manor was too far from the tree line for the wind to have blown a tree over onto the house.
“Cressida?” Braden shifted toward her as he grabbed his 9mm gun and headed toward the door. “Close the door and lock it.”
“We’ll be okay here,” she said.
He’d radio for backup, though it normally took entirely too long for official law enforcement backup to come out, and both Hawk and Cole weren’t readily available. Braden stepped out into the shadowed hallway and listened.
Watched and waited.
The slightest creak sounded from above.
Upstairs.
Cressida moved to close the door to the room.
On second thought...“Come on. Let’s get you outside and into my vehicle. Someone’s upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” Evelyn gasped. “But—”
“Let’s go.” He cleared the front area, then rushed them outside. He urged Cressida into the driver’s seat.
She didn’t question his thinking. He started to close the door, but she grabbed his hand—a spark of energy coursed up his arm. “Braden, be careful.”
“I will.” He shut the door. Raced back to the house, then crept inside. How could someone think it would be a good idea to “illegally” enter a room upstairs while a Timberbrook County detective, Cressida, and Evelyn were inside the house.
The only reason someone would risk it was if they were afraid that time was running out. He crept up the grand circular staircase, portraits of the ocean, Boston, the Washington coastline, and Evelyn’s family lining the walls. She hadn’t fully given up her legacy, bringing at least those memories—along with finances—with her to Washington. One portrait of an older man—her father or grandfather?—stared back at him, eyes seeming to follow him as he started toward the room where someone made entirely too much noise.
Tightening his grip on his handgun, he crept forward, mentally preparing to face off with a bold criminal—someone willing to risk much for what they wanted. Braden remained guarded in case others were present and tried to approach him from behind. He crept toward the room next to where Collins had been shot and gently pushed the door open. He entered the ransacked room but found it empty. Curtains flapped in the breeze of an open window. Had the intruder escaped? Or was this a ruse? Was someone still inside? He cleared the room.
At the window, he leaned out. No rope or ladder to assistwith the almost twenty-foot drop. Braden painstakingly cleared the rest of Driftwood Manor and contacted Trent to make sure he brought an evidence kit. Cressida and Evelyn had dutifully waited in his car the entire time. Clouds moved back in, and the sky decided to unleash a torrent on them to add to the drama of the day. He ushered them both back into the house and explained what he’d found to Evelyn. Evelyn had never given him any details about the argument between Madeline and Collins.
“A deputy is coming out to dust for prints that could tell us who was in your house today. Are you sure you didn’t hear what your assistant and Collins were arguing about?”
Evelyn’s face paled. “I didn’t hear the words, only the tone.”
He suspected she knew what this was about. “Today someone was in the room next to where Collins was shot, searching, while a county detective and investigative journalist were in the house with you. That’s a big risk, if you ask me. What was so important? What were they looking for?”
This woman was held in high regard by everyone. She went out of her way to assist those in need—a very particular need, that is. So why was she hiding something?
“No!” Evelyn hurried toward the stairs, abandoning her usual grace as she bounded up each step with a speed that took him by surprise.
“It’s a crime scene now. Again.” Whatever. “Please don’t go in there,” he called after her.
