30. Hannah

Chapter 30

Hannah

I finished priming the walls of a bedroom and went downstairs to the basement to wash out my roller and pan. Max followed me, slinking around the perimeter of the basement while I worked at the big sink. He was particularly fascinated by the smells near the door to the wine cellar. Seeing no harm in letting him explore farther, I unlocked the door and cracked it open. He scooted into the dark room, and I placed a brick in the opening to keep it from sliding shut while he was inside.

“Have fun,” I said as I returned to finish at the sink.

A dull thud echoed overhead, and my heart shuddered until I remembered that Detective Carter assured me Victor Drake would not come near my property again. Out on bail, Victor was acting quite contrite and was focusing on his hearing and no longer paying attention to me.

So what was the sound?

“Justin?” I whispered. The lights dimmed before blazing above me once more. Oh, no. Not this again. “The entire building has fairly new wiring,” I snarled, turning off the water and striding over to the panel. Everything looked normal inside, and I stared at the ceiling lights for a long time.

They remained even and lit.

With a huff, I finished and went upstairs, where I walked through each floor with a screwdriver in hand as an improvised weapon. I peeked into each bedroom, bathroom, and closet, but found nothing unusual. Grumbling, I returned downstairs and put my screwdriver away.

Max had finished his adventures in the cellar, and I went back to the basement and locked the door to the small room again. I fed him and took things out of the refrigerator to get started on the meal I would cook for Reylor and me. I adored lasagna, and I had a feeling he’d enjoy my special recipe.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, I returned to the kitchen.

While the water was coming to a boil for the noodles, I sauteed the ground turkey and added spices, tomatoes, onions, and my secret ingredient, two tablespoons of a rich, dark balsamic vinegar. I moved the sauce to the back burner to simmer on low and made the cheese filling.

I was dumping the noodles out of the water and into the colander when Max pawed at his cat door to go outside.

“Still locked, huh?” I’d forgotten to open it this morning. “I’m sorry.” He could use the litter box in the basement, but he hated it and only used it if he absolutely had to.

He scooted through the opening, and I returned to assembling the lasagna in a big pan. I placed it on the stove to wait. I would pop it into the oven when Reylor got home, and I had a solid time in mind to serve the dish.

I sliced a loaf of Italian bread and slathered each piece with garlic butter, wrapped the loaf in foil, and set that aside to place in the oven closer to dinnertime.

A glance out the window in the front door showed me Reylor wasn’t here yet. Four-ten. He said he might be able to leave early, but I’d plan on five or so just in case.

Back in the kitchen, I poured a glass of red wine and went outside to sit on my patio to enjoy the view. The sun warmed my spine, and the wine tasted amazing, dry with a hint of berries. There wasn’t much I loved more than lounging in the late afternoon after spending a solid day working on my building. It was coming along well. At this rate, and with no one coming behind me to sabotage my progress, I might meet my deadline to open. Then my guests could sit out here on the patio with friends or family and savor their own wine or drink of their choice.

“There you are.”

I turned to find Grant Murray striding over to me, a sheath of papers in his hand. He stopped in front of me and thrust the papers into my face. “Sign.”

“Excuse me?” My sandaled feet thudded onto the patio stones as I sat up, frowning.

His slick smile rose, but rage filled his eyes. “Sign, and I won’t have to take this any further.”

My stomach tightened, and a cold sweat prickled down my spine. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re selling the B&B. I’m offering the price you paid for it.” He jerked the papers at me again.

A chill rushed through me, and I stumbled to my feet, backing around my chair to put distance between us. Were the security cameras catching all this?

“I’m not selling the building,” I said loudly since the cameras would pick up sound. “I’ve told you that a thousand times.”

“I’m sure you’ll reconsider. Haven’t we convinced you yet?”

“We?”

His head tilting, he frowned at the back of the building. “What are you doing to the back deck?”

“Someone else did that.” I didn’t need to explain to Grant about Victor.

“Odd choice.” He shook his frame, and his sneer rose once more. “This place is falling apart.” The conniving look in his eyes made dread wash over me. “I love the way you’re decorating. Do you plan to add new windows, or do you think your guests will enjoy staring at plywood in the evening?”

Victor had admitted to ripping out my flowerbeds and damaging my back deck, but he’d denied breaking the windows, insisting he’d never do anything that mean. As if cutting up my deck wasn’t mean? Detective Carter had assumed Victor was lying, that he’d done everything.

Now it appeared he might not have.

“You,” I snarled, backing away from him. “You broke my windows?”

He plucked a bit of lint off the front of his dark blue suit jacket and rounded my chair, stalking me. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“I can’t believe you’d do something like that.”

“Sign,” he barked.

I jolted. “I’m not selling you the building.” I tried to remain calm and come across strong, but fear kept gnawing away at my spine. “Go away.” I’d call Detective Carter the moment I got inside and locked the doors. Why hadn’t I brought my phone outside with me?

Grant’s shiny black shoes smacked on the patio stones as he came after me, the papers thrust forward in his hand. “Sigh, damn you. I need this deal or . . .”

I paused, studying his face. “Or what?”

“I need to move some money fast or a few people will be very angry with me.”

“Do you mean your boss, Estadore?”

He scoffed. “The griffin? He has no clue about anything.”

At least Estadore wasn’t in on whatever this might be.

A rushing sound swooped overhead, making downed leaves scatter across the patio, but I didn’t look up.

“You need to leave.” My voice came out much too thready. My heart was thumping at a furious pace, and I needed to put a locked door between us before he—

“Will this make you reconsider?” He reached inside his jacket and tugged a big knife out of a sheath strapped to his waist. With a snarl, he gouged it at me.

I yelped and stumbled backward, my hands flying up. Sweat coated my palms as I clenched my fists tight.

“Sign,” he shouted, slashing out with the knife. “Sigh, damn you! Or else.”

An enormous, glorious dragon landed hard enough on the patio to make the ground shudder. He shot fire into the air, and even as frightened as I was, I stared, marveling at how amazing my new boyfriend was.

Reylor shifted into his gorgeous, naked self.

“The lady asked you to leave,” he growled.

Leaping, he tackled Grant, knocking him to the ground.