Whispering Springs. Amanda Stevens
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Название: Whispering Springs
Автор: Amanda Stevens
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика
Серия: Mills & Boon Intrigue
isbn: 9781474081856
isbn:
“Thanks,” Blair murmured.
Ava shrugged off her gratitude, but she had a determined look on her face that Dylan remembered only too well. “Think nothing of it. I’ll take care of everything. But are you sure you’re okay? You still look a little pale. My room is just down the hall. Would you like to wait there while Dylan exterminates yours?”
“I’m fine now.”
“If you say so.” Her gaze on Dylan was direct and slightly challenging. “You’ve got everything under control up here?”
“Yes, no worries.”
She nodded though she didn’t look particularly convinced. “I’ll see you both downstairs, then.”
Dylan waited until she’d disappeared across the landing before turning back to Blair. “What happened?”
“It’s better if I show you.”
He followed her into the suite. A small entryway opened into a luxurious sitting area with buttery leather furniture, a limestone fireplace and a row of French doors that looked out on a wide balcony. Blair paused in the sitting room and pointed to a doorway through which Dylan could glimpse a bed and another set of French doors.
“In there.”
The lamp on the nightstand cast a soft glow over the room. More light spilled in from the open bathroom door. Dylan quickly scanned the area, peering into shadowy corners and taking note of the night air drifting in through the open balcony doors. Like the sitting area, the room was both rustic and luxurious with a vaulted beam ceiling and plush rugs on a wide-plank floor. But it was the bed that drew Dylan’s attention. Or rather, what had been placed on the covers.
Lying atop the opulent linens was a doll, the kind of expensive keepsake his grandmother had once collected and kept behind the locked glass doors of her curio cabinet. Only this one hadn’t been so lovingly preserved. The porcelain arms and legs had been shattered and the neck grotesquely twisted so that the painted visage faced the doorway. Light glinted in the glass eyes, prickling Dylan’s scalp as he moved into the room.
Behind him, Blair said breathlessly, “You see it, don’t you?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “The doll?”
“It’s not just a doll. It’s an effigy. Notice the color of her hair, those eyes. The way she’s been posed. You must see it.” A note of hysteria rose in her voice. “Dylan, it’s Lily. Your Lily.”
Dylan turned slowly to face her. “What did you say?”
Blair leaned back against the door frame. “Surely you can see it, too.”
He whirled back to the bed, more shaken than he cared to admit. For a moment, he almost let her persuade him. There was something eerily familiar about the doll. Something perverted and sinister about the shattered limbs, the twisted neck and those open, staring eyes. He’d seen a lot of bad things in Afghanistan, dark things, but no amount of death and destruction could obliterate the image of Lily Callen’s broken body after a twenty-story fall. He wondered if the others still had nightmares about that night. About the lies that had been told and the secrets that had been kept.
“I don’t blame you for being upset,” he said. “But it’s a reach to think the doll is an effigy of Lily.”
“Is it? The blond hair, the blue eyes? The way she’s been placed on the bed? You think all that’s just a coincidence?” Something in her voice made Dylan glance over his shoulder again. She was clearly distraught, and yet her demeanor didn’t seem quite right. He couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, but unease stirred.
He turned back to the doll. “Of course it’s not a coincidence. But Lily wasn’t the only one with blond hair and blue eyes. That description fits you, too, Blair. I’d say if the doll is meant to represent anyone, it’s you.”
“Me? But what about the way the doll has been damaged?”
“As if she fell? Think about it for a minute. You and Tony are still avid climbers. There was a write-up about you in Summit Magazine not too long ago.”
“How did you know about that article?” she asked in shock.
“It’s my job to know.”
That seemed to give her pause. “You think the person behind the phone calls and break-in did this?”
“Isn’t that why you hired me? Because you were worried those threats would follow you here?” Dylan lifted his gaze from the doll, catching Blair’s reflection in one of the windows. She wasn’t looking at the bed. Her left hand was splayed in front of her and she seemed mesmerized by the sparkle of her diamond rings.
“Blair?”
Her hand dropped at once. “Yes?”
“You’ve told me everything, haven’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t received any other threats since you’ve been here?”
“No, everything’s been fine.”
Dylan moved around to the other side of the bed so that he could examine the shattered porcelain while keeping an eye on Blair. “Where were you before you found the doll?”
“I went down to the springs for a swim. I was gone for about two hours.”
“No one else has a key to your room?”
“Just the staff.”
“You didn’t see anyone lurking in the hallway when you left? Anything out of the ordinary happen while you were out?”
“Not that I noticed. Dylan...” She took a reluctant step into the room, averting her gaze from the bed. “The other threats were more straightforward. The phone calls, the message left on the bathroom mirror. This is more nuanced. More diabolical somehow. If what you’re saying is true...if the doll is meant to represent me, then Tony is no longer the target. I am.”
“He could still be the ultimate objective. From everything you’ve told me, he’s a ruthless negotiator. He doesn’t give up or give in. Personal threats wouldn’t faze him, but if his opponents believe you’re his Achilles heel, they may think the best way to get to him is through you.”
“If only they knew,” she murmured.
“Meaning?”
“Nothing.” Her head came up defiantly. “You’re right. Tony doesn’t give up or give in. No matter what. It may sound bizarre, but you’ve made me feel better. A stranger using me as leverage to gain the upper hand in a business deal is infinitely preferable to one of my oldest friends playing a malicious trick on me.”
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