Whispering Springs. Amanda Stevens
if I what? You heard her. She said she’s fine. There’s no cause for panic.”
“You don’t scream like that if you’re fine.”
“Then why are we standing here arguing?” he asked in exasperation.
“That’s a very good point.” She brushed past him to the doorway.
Dylan hesitated for only a moment before catching up with her and taking the lead. He bounded up the stairs two at a time, pausing on the landing to take stock. A crystal chandelier tinkled overhead in a draft. Farther down the hallway, a door clicked shut. He turned his ear to the sound, holding up his hand to silence Ava when she would have questioned his caution.
Blair had arranged to have the ranch exclusively for the reunion. The invitees had all been assigned rooms upstairs, leaving the detached cabins unoccupied. In the two days that Dylan had been there, he’d made a point to familiarize himself with all the staff members. A stranger wandering around the house or grounds should be easy to spot. He scoured the hallway now for any sign of an intruder or anything out of the ordinary. Except for that faint click of a door, nothing seemed amiss.
Blair’s suite was just off the landing, and as Dylan started toward the door, she burst into the hallway, the hem of her silk robe floating behind her like a ghost.
“Dylan, thank God. You have to see this—” She halted abruptly when she spotted Ava. Her hand flew to her throat in alarm. “Ava! I didn’t know you were here.”
“I got in a little while ago.” She moved around Dylan. “What’s going on? We heard your screams. That was you, wasn’t it?”
“Yes...”
“You scared us half to death,” Ava said. “It sounded as if you were being murdered up here.”
Blair seemed at a loss as her gaze darted to Dylan. “Murdered? No... I...”
“Take a breath,” he said, “and tell us what happened.” He kept his voice neutral, but his eyes warned her to proceed with caution.
She bit her lip and nodded. “I’m okay. I...it’s nothing really. I feel completely stupid. I saw a scorpion in my bedroom.”
“A scorpion?” Ava repeated in disbelief.
“On my bed.” Blair clutched the lapels of her robe. “They’re everywhere in the Hill Country so I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose. But you remember how deathly afraid of spiders I’ve always been. A scorpion is a million times worse.”
Ava nodded. “I remember, all right. You nearly drove us into a ditch once when you saw a spider in your car.”
Blair shuddered. “It was a very big spider.”
“I can see you’re upset,” Ava said. “Why don’t I call downstairs and have someone come up and take care of the problem?”
Dylan maneuvered around Blair to the door, blocking Ava’s path into the suite. “I’ll deal with the scorpion. You go downstairs and let everyone know that Blair is fine. We can’t be the only ones who heard her scream.”
“Yes, would you?” Blair managed a weak smile. “I’m too embarrassed to face anyone right now.”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m sure I would scream, too, if I found a scorpion in my bed.” Ava addressed Blair, but she trained her gaze on Dylan. Unease niggled. He could almost hear the gears turning inside her head. The scorpion cover wasn’t bad, but Ava North had never been anyone’s fool.
“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