As he walked by her, he knew she would never talk to him again. But he wouldn’t give up.
“You do this, Cressida, you shut me out and Elise could lose her treatment. That was the price of her treatment.”
He stepped out into the hall and heard the soft click of the door shutting—at least she hadn’t slammed it, but remorse and grief filled him.
He walked down the hall, the lowest human on earth to allow himself to be manipulated and his niece to be used like this, but at the same time he was working to save her. This had been his only option.
But he couldn’t make Cressida see that.
33
The next morning, Cressida steered her rental car down the road to a private home on the north end of Hidden Bay. Evelyn Monroe’s doctor had cleared her for release that morning, and the resilient and resourceful woman was now staying at a safe house, where she’d agreed to meet Cressida.
In private.
Without thenicedetective.
Today was Saturday, and Cressida had planned to be at the Pirates’ Bash to take pictures and learn more about theSpecter’s Bountyand what the locals believed or knew. Was anyone related to any of the crew? What cargo had it been carrying, or where and what had it gone to salvage? Where did Evelyn’s son, Caleb, fit into all of it? The story had been tipped over along with her world.
She better understood the term “seeing red.”
Every time she thought about Braden’s involvement with her mother, she couldn’t see straight, and the thundering started in her head all over again. She’d taken so much aspirin, she might have given herself an ulcer.
She should have known to never again trust anyone after her ex-boyfriend had turned on her—again, because of her mother.
Evelyn’s words drifted back to her.“It isn’t that he deserved my forgiveness. None of us is deserving.”
So that’s it, Lord, I just have to forgive someone even if theydon’t deserve it?Cressida swallowed hard against the thickness in her throat.
Refusing to cry only meant that all her fury remained pent up inside. But she shoved it all away as she entered through the gate—Evelyn allowed her in via a code—and then she steered toward a very contemporary looking home that literally stuck out over the ledge. The place was the complete opposite of Driftwood Manor. Evelyn claimed it belonged to a friend, and security was top-notch.
Why didn’t the woman hire protection after everything that had happened? Maybe she had, and Cressida just hadn’t seen the protective detail yet. She parked and sat in her car. Took a few long breaths. She would learn everything she possibly could, and then she would call her mother and confront her, talk it through, whatever it took.
Braden Sanders.
DetectiveBraden Sanders.
What had he been to her mother? Cressida would guess that he’d worked for the Diplomatic Security Services and for her mother, who often utilized those agents for protection. Now that she looked back over her brief time with him, it was plain to her, and it had been staring her in the face the whole time. He’d never beenjusta detective.
Time to focus on Evelyn now and forget about Braden.
Cressida got out of the vehicle, noting the cameras at various locations. The place was only moderately safe, though, in her opinion, given that the woods closed in. Driftwood Manor had cameras too, but they had been tamperedwith. Cressida assumed Evelyn would be upgrading security with the repairs at Driftwood Manor.
She started toward the structure. This place might be safe, but it felt cold and lonely and creepy without all the Driftwood Manor gothic charm. As she walked to the front door, movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She turned to stare at the tree line.
Her heart leapt to her throat.
Diggins?
He stepped back into the shadows. He was here, watching Evelyn? Or waiting for Cressida? Who was he, really? And what did he know? What did he want? Was he ... dangerous? She hadn’t truly thought he’d been threatening her with his talk of walking a metaphorical plank of any kind. But that was Cressida’s issue. She struggled to believe a nice man in his late eighties could plot such harm.
She would love to chase after him, approach and face him and get answers. Or even better, get in her car and drive away. Get on a plane and fly somewhere far away from her troubles.
The door opened before she knocked. Evelyn motioned for her to enter, then, surprising Cressida, the older woman gave her a long hug.
I should be hugging you.
She stepped back and looked her in the face, but before she could speak, Evelyn said, “Are you all right?”
