Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Sybil stood. “That should be Doug.”

“Let me look on the camera before anyone answers the door,” Letisha said. She fiddled with her phone and seconds later said, “Yep, it’s him.”

Sybil headed toward the octagon entrance as relief quickened her steps. She unlocked the door and threw it open. Snow blew across the entrance.

“Doug, thank goodness,” she said as he entered in a rush. Snow dusted his outerwear, and he had a military green duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s nasty out there,” Doug responded as she locked the door behind him. He set the duffle on the floor, shoved back the hood on his parka and drew off his sock hat. He frowned and peeled off his gloves and stuffed them in a pocket. “Glad you guys didn’t go out in this. My driveway is filling up and this one isn’t much better. You okay?”

Warmth filled her. “We’re fine. Sorry…I should have said stay where you were…”

Guilt. That tape that said she must be culpible for everything rose inside her.

Oh, Sybil. So fragile. So unable to deal with complications. So unsure of yourself.

She almost said it out loud. For her mother to shut up. But she stopped that in time.

“No. I’m glad I came,” Doug said.

Before Sybil could reply, Clarice entered the octagon.

“Doug, so glad you made it here safely,” Clarice said. “Let’s offer him something hot to drink before.”

For a moment, the seriousness left his eyes. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

Doug put his winter wear in the coat room nearby and entered the Great Hall with his duffle in hand.

“That’s very sweet of you to be concerned about us.” Clarice patted his arm, her tone as soft as a grandmother talking to her favorite grandson and as nonplussed as a woman without a care in the world. “Why don’t we go back into the parlor where it’s more comfortable?”

Once in the parlor he sat in a chair. Sybil took a seat closest to him with a side table and lamp between them while the others selected places on the couch.

“Look,” he said. “There are additional things Clinton found out just before I came over here. About Annapolis’s murder.”

Sybil’s heartbeat quickened as apprehension settled in her stomach like a rock.

Everyone seemed to hold their breaths waiting for him to elaborate.

“We’re dying here,” Pauline said. “Tell us already.”

“Clinton’s source at the medical examiner’s office briefed him on disturbing new details.” Doug turned his gaze to Sybil. “Worse than what I mentioned on the phone earlier.”

If someone had poured ice down her back, Sybil couldn’t have felt colder. She rubbed her arms.

He winced. “As I mentioned before Annapolis was crushed around her ribcage. But then she was torn in half.”

“Oh my God,” Pauline said.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Letisha’s statement rose in tone, her face filled with disbelief.

Maria groaned. “That is just…horrible.”

Sybil shook her head. “No way. Someone couldn’t do that. Not with their bare hands. I mean, maybe someone exceptionally heavy could’ve laid on her and crushed her somehow. Are they saying that’s what someone did?”

Doug sat back in his chair, his eyes filled with deep concern. “Clinton didn’t elaborate on the exact details. He got the feeling no one understood how it was done. But it didn’t sound like it was done by bare hands.”

Letisha stuffed her fingers in her hair and directed her stare toward Clarice. “I don’t even know what the hell to think. This is so crazy. Everything that is happening in this mansion. In the forest around here. It is crazy.”

Sybil’s mind didn’t want to operate, a hollow unable to process. Paralysis frustrated and angered her. A rising low-grade anxiety made Sybil’s stomach roil, but then she took what she’d learned in therapy and brought her attention to the present.

Come on Sybil. You can fix this type of situation. You always do. You’re always competent. Always reliable. Always the woman with the right idea. Despite what mother and father always said. It’s your superpower.

Clarice stood. “Thank you for rushing here to see if these young ladies were all right.”

Letisha said to Clarice with a smile, “This coming from the person who rushed here, Very kind of you to look out for us, Clarice.”

Clarice’s serene look didn’t alter. “Us ladies have to stick together.”

“Why did you come here?” Doug asked. “It’s a lot farther from Estes Park to here than it is for me. The weather is crazy out there.”

Clarice chuckled. “The ladies weren’t answering their phones and texts weren’t going through. I thought something horrible could be happening.”

Doug’s expression didn’t change, but Sybil didn’t know if that meant he didn’t believe Clarice.

“There's something else you aren't telling us, isn't there?” Clarice asked Doug.

Doug sighed and then formed a crooked smile devoid of humor. “You're right. I was getting to that. Taggert's car is at the end of the driveway.”

“What?” Sybil's question ejected from her.

“You should have told us right up front,” Pauline said, her voice high as she stood. “Why didn't you tell us?”

He held one hand up. “I know you've got all the doors and windows locked. And I've been monitoring the security system. We’re secure in here. Taggert wasn't in his truck. I didn't see him along the road or in the woods. Unless he's got some major winter survival gear with him, he won’t survive this weather.”

Maria’s face crumbled, eyes shiny with tears. “Oh, God. I can't believe this is happening.”

As it had so many times in this place, Sybil’s skin prickled and her stomach lurched with panic.

“Well, I hope he doesn't make it,” Pauline said. “He’s a bastard.”

Doug put both hands up in surrender. “Look, I'm sorry. I should've said something right off. I was worried I'd scare all of you.”

Clarice scanned the room, and Sybil noted how she looked at each of them. “I'd say they're afraid regardless, my boy. But I can't fault you. You came here to make sure the girls were safe. That’s all that counts. I feel much better having you here.” Clarice smiled and winked at Sybil. “Don’t you Sybil?”

Sybil blinked, her mouth opening but nothing coming out. She cleared her throat. “Of course. Doug has military and police training. That’s a plus.”

Clarice’s smile remained, the teasing in it clear. Somehow this woman thought…no she knew Sybil found Doug attractive.

“I'm staying until the blizzard is over and can see you safely out of here.” He softened his voice and looked directly at Sybil. “If that's all right with you.”

Sybil’s mouth went dry. “Of course.”

Clarice nodded. “Please stay, Doug. We have a room for you upstairs.”

“Thanks. I'd prefer to stay in the office and monitor the security. I've got the app on my phone that would alert me of a breach, but I feel more comfortable being right with the computer.”

Sybil didn't stifle the new wave of respect and admiration rising inside her for Doug.

“We can bring you blankets. Bedding for the couch,” Sybil said.

Clarice’s eyes sparkled with a teasing light. “Sybil, perhaps you could help him keep watch tonight. Take shifts?”

Sybil's cheeks turned warm. “Good idea.”

“I know it's not late, but I don't think I can keep my eyes open. I'm going upstairs for a quick nap,” Clarice said.

After Clarice departed, Maria headed for the office door. “Same here. All this intrigue and excitement. I can't keep my damned eyes open. A nap it is. I’ll take my stuff back upstairs.”

Pauline maintained a stony face and exited the room behind Maria, apparently with the idea of retreating to her room as well.

Letisha stood. “I don’t think I could sleep right now. I’ll do some work in the attic. Stuff we didn’t finish.”

Sybil decided immediately. “Me, too.”

Doug followed them. “I’ll hang out in the office and monitor the security.”

Sybil wanted to hang with Doug, but she could leave Letisha to do all the work upstairs in the attic. “We’ll be down later.”

He smiled gently and saluted her.

* * *

Letisha and Sybil worked in the attic until later in the afternoon, taking time to eat snack bars for lunch. Neither of them seemed to have a big appetite. When they decided they’d finished for the day, they headed downstairs into the Great Hall. All afternoon Sybil had listened to the wind roaring against the house, the fury of the storm battering the structure relentlessly.

As they reached the Great Hall, Sybil glanced out the terrace windows. “Wow. I think the idea that this storm is stopping anytime soon is crap.”

Letisha planted her hands on her hips. “You got that right.” She didn’t sound worried and turned away to walk back to the stairs. “Everyone must still be sleeping. I’ll see if anyone wants dinner. I’ll check on Clarice, too.”

“Sounds good. I’ll check on Doug.”

Letisha gently elbowed her and lowered her voice. “You should check him out. I mean…really check him out.”

Sybil rolled her gaze to the ceiling for a moment before lowering her voice to a mere whisper. “Stop. He might hear you.”

Letisha laughed and headed upstairs again.

Sybil headed to the office and noted the light on. The storm had made the day darker at three in the afternoon than normal.

Sybil heard the click of computer keys as she entered the office.

Doug sat at the computer typing with an intense absorption. His look of concentration made her think of a scene from the movie The Shining .

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” she said.

He looked up. “What?”

“The Shining. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

One corner of his mouth turned up, the gentle grin giving his already handsome face a boyishness that softened the harsher angles. “I’ve seen the movie. It’s one of my favorites.”

It came out of her mouth before she could squash it. “A man after my own heart.”

His soft smile wavered as he returned his attention to the computer screen for a moment. “We might have a problem here.”

Sybil’s heart sank a little as she walked to the desk where he sat. “What now?”

Doug stopped typing and looked up. “The Internet is out. The security system normally would operate on cellular but even that isn’t working. The system is shot for now.”

Concern crept up inside her. “The cameras are entirely out?”

He stood and stretched. “Yep. All of it. We don’t have a security system until something comes back online. At least nothing more than our wits and locked doors and windows.”

“Great,” she said softly.

He straightened and stepped a little closer to her. “Hey, I'm sorry.”

Her gaze tangled with his. “For what?”

“Not mentioning when I arrived here that Taggert might be nearby. And he might be.”

She rubbed her cold hands together. “I can't say I'd be sorry if we found him frozen like a popsicle in the morning.”

Old shame came to the forefront as she realized how bad that sounded.

His eyes brightened, and he chuckled.

“I mean...” She smiled, but it disappeared fast. “It isn't good to wish anyone harm, but with him I just...”

“I get it. He is a dangerous man.”

“True. And I hate that he made me feel vulnerable. I absolutely despise it.”

He crossed his arms. “I’m sure you could hold your own against him.”

She scoffed. “How?” She lifted her arms. “I’m not actually the most in shape forty-year-old you’ve ever met. Sure, I do a lot of exercise cleaning houses, but that doesn’t make up for staring at the exercise bike in my house and never using it.”

That small smile came again, this time with a hint of teasing in it. “Considering everything you’ve gone through in your life, you’re tougher than you think. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Appreciation hit her again. “Thanks.”

Silence stretched a moment before he said, “I’ve always been good at assessing people, Sybil. Cop sense, I guess. I recognize a tough person when I see them. You’re tough and capable.”

Heat blossomed in her face. “Thanks. It feels good to hear it, even if I don’t believe it.”

He shook his head. “Well, believe this. My stomach is growling. I was thinking of raiding the refrigerator.”

Glad he’d changed the subject, she said, “Letisha was going to check on the others and see if they wanted dinner.”

A short time later the other women came down and joined Sybil and Doug in the kitchen. Clarice insisted on making them a quick chicken soup recipe which in actuality took over an hour to make.

Meanwhile they sat around the kitchen table and conversed. Doug explained how the security system no longer worked because the Internet and cellular service had tanked.

Sybil noted the edge of panic on Maria’s face, but the others didn’t seem as disconcerted by the news, expecting it with the weather.

Once Clarice served the soup, their conversation peppered with everything from current events to Clarice regaling them tales with of the good old days.

Sybil recalled times her parents had done the same when she was in high school, making her crazy with long monologues about something in their school days she’d heard innumerable times. The golden days, her father would say. When all stayed right with the world and nothing bad happened in it. She’d never believed a word of it and had told him so once after he made a statement once that women had stepped out of line and no longer understood their place.

Women need to be broken, Sybil. Broken like a horse until they understand.

She’d seen red so bright and fierce she’d almost screamed at him. She’d struggled with it, almost giving into the heat. Instead she’d spoken softly. Clearly.

Bullshit. Bullshit dad . It is all crap and there’s so much of it in this house, it is stuck on the bottom of my shoes every day when I walk out of here and go to school.

The shock on his face had been worth almost everything that had come after.

That had earned her a week of his ridicule and her mother’s cold indifference. She’d never said anything about their good ole days conversations again. The satisfaction on her father’s face as he’d looked at her…as he’d stared at her whenever he shared the stories, made her flesh crawl and a burning anger boil high inside her.

“Sybil? Earth to Sybil?” Letisha said.

Sybil snapped out of her memories. “I’m here.”

Sybil caught Doug’s curious look, but he didn’t say anything.

Later, after everyone had pitched in to clean the dishes, Doug said,” I’ll camp out in the office to see if I can bring the security system back online.”

Clarice said as she settled down at the kitchen table again. “What? No. There are a ton of rooms upstairs you could sleep in.”

“No, that’s okay,” he said firmly but with a smile. “I can camp on the couch.”

Clarice frowned but didn’t argue. “If you insist.”

Sybil started toward the door. “Let's grab you those pillows and blankets.”

They raided a utility closet on the second floor for blankets and pillows. In his duffle, he'd brought a utility kit with his toothbrush and toothpaste. Once back in the office, he threw together a makeshift bed on a couch almost big enough to accommodate his tall frame.

She noted his duffle sitting near the couch, and realization came to her. “You have a gun in there, don't you?”

He settled on the chair next to the desk. “Yeah. But reluctantly.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Why?”

“Surprised?”

“Yes.” She felt a little sheepish. She shrugged. “I guess I shouldn’t make assumptions because you were in the military and law enforcement.”

He shrugged. “People shouldn’t make assumptions, but humans do it all the time, including me.”

Urged by the fact he didn’t seem offended by her reaction, she asked, “Why are you reluctant to have a weapon?”

He looked at the floor a moment before meeting her gaze. “Using weapons for years and seeing real time what they can do to people. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of how there are so many people raining havoc down on our world because of them. When you told me about Taggert and what he did to you, I asked Clinton if I could borrow a weapon.” He smirked. “He already knows that I hate guns. But because he understands what Taggert did to you, he loaned me a pistol.”

Another thing occurred to her, and she almost didn’t speak of it. She didn’t want to assume anything else she shouldn’t. A hard lump grew in her throat, and her eyes watered a little. She forced back the tears.

“You didn’t have to do that. I mean, for us,” she said.

His gaze turned serious. “I did. I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you all. To you .”

They stared at each other for a moment, and a powerful wave of temptation hit her.

Before she could say anything that would incriminate her and give away her feelings, he said, “You hate guns, too?”

“My father did horrible things to those women and sometimes he used firearms.” She dared look into his eyes and saw pure understanding there. “But I hate to admit, I’m glad you have one right now.”

She settled on the chair nearby.

“When I saw Taggert's car,” he said, “It scared the shit out of me. I thought maybe he'd gotten in here somehow.”

“If he'd invaded the house somehow, you could've been in danger coming here.”

He shrugged. “I called 911 but it didn’t go through. Not a damned busy signal. Not a ring. It’s like this place…this house and forest play games with us.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Do you believe that?”

“Maybe. I can’t prove it.”

She couldn’t deny the warmth and appreciation building inside her. “Thank you for coming.”

A gentle smile touched his mouth. He started to speak when she saw a shadow pass over one window that faced east. She started and gasped.

He whirled around to look. “What is it?”

She stood and went to the window. “A shadow went by. I should've pulled these curtains earlier.”

He stood next to her, and they scanned the area outside.

“I don’t see anything,” he said.

As he hurried to the desk, she pulled the curtains together and did the same with the other window before returning to the desk. She pulled her chair closer to his as they examined the laptop that showed numerous views on the outside of the house. She practically held her breath as they checked each camera.

“I don't see anything,” she said softly.

She sat back with a sigh. “Maybe I imagined it. Maybe all the weird things that have happened in this house are my imagination.”

He turned toward her. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that what you really think?”

“No. I don't. But sometimes I wish it was.”

Silence settled on them a moment before he looked at his watch. “Why don't I take first watch? We've got two pillows, enough blankets and two couches. I don't need all that for me.”

His suggestion surprised her. “I don't know if I could sleep.”

He grinned. “I'll bet you could. Or you could head upstairs to your room and sleep there. More comfortable.”

She flapped one hand. “Are you kidding? I'm too...” She sighed. “Okay, I'm too shaken up by all of this to want to be alone. So I'll stay down here. What if I take the next watch in four hours?”

He stood and went toward his couch. “Deal.”

He snagged a pillow and blankets and helped her set up the makeshift bed on the other couch nearby.

She turned toward him when they finished. “Thanks. I mean that. For everything.”

He took a step toward her, and a gentle smile touched his mouth. Right that moment he looked every inch the Thor. Everything female in her responded without her thinking about it or trying to stop the reaction. When he stopped close to her, she couldn't mistake the heat in his eyes. She wondered if he saw the same in her gaze.

“Sybil, we're going to be okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you.”

She couldn't deny the primitive response that hit low in her body and threatened to derail all her intentions to remain unaffected by him. What did she say to that?

“Same. We’ll be a team,” she said. “So don't do anything stupid like...” She made a helpless gesture with both hands. “Go outside in the snow looking for him.”

He reached up and cupped her face with his right hand. With the other, he brushed back her hair. He softly kissed her forehead, and he moved away. His sweet gesture stirred a potent need stronger than what she’d experienced for any man, and she allowed that to sink in. His attention and concern in no way resembled Taggert’s overbearing attitude.

Without a word, she stretched out on the couch, huddled under the blankets, and closed her eyes. Perhaps that tender show of affection acted like a drug because sleep took her down within moments.

* * *

Sybil awakened with a jerk. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel the throb in her ears. She sucked in a breath and listened. Nothing. She looked around. No sign of Doug.

She listened. The sound of metal moving? Something clicking. The desk light was off, but a tall lamp in one corner afforded enough light to see. The office door was cracked open two or three inches.

She stuffed her feet in her boots and swiftly tied them. Knowing that the Great Hall would be semi-dark, she made certain to have her cell phone ready to use as a flashlight. She exited the room.

No one was in the Great Hall, but she hadn't expected to see anyone.

Worry lodged in her throat. Had Doug gone outside? Had he seen another shadow at the window? With the curtains drawn, he couldn't have. She drew in one slow breath and then another. Panic wouldn't serve her, and she understood that. Yet her hypervigilance didn't listen.

A rattling noise. Soft. Tentative. Exploratory.

A second later, a shadow appeared around a corner. She sucked in a breath.

Doug came into the Great Hall from the octagon entrance, and he frowned when he saw her. “Hey. You okay?”

Relief hit her. “Yeah. But you scared the shit out of me.”

He walked toward her. “Sorry. I was checking the doors. Paranoid I guess.”

They returned to the office, and she checked her watch. “It’s way past the four hours. You didn’t wake me.”

“You looked tired. I wasn’t going to wake you.”

“Thanks, but now it’s your turn to sleep.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’ll get some sleep.”

She settled at the office desk and tried reading after he settled on his couch. Fatigue caught up with her three hours later. She needed to stay awake a little longer.

She ventured into the kitchen and grabbed the easiest source of caffeine. A can of diet cola. Returning to the office, she noted he hadn’t moved an inch. She sat at the desk in the less comfortable chair, understanding that if she sat on the couch, she’d be tempted to sleep. Despite this, she nodded off.

A shifting movement sent a zing of alertness through her. She jerked and opened her eyes. Clarice stood in the wide-open doorway.

Taggert stood behind Clarice and slightly to the woman’s left, a wide smile plastered on his face. He gripped a big handgun in his meaty right paw.