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CHAPTER FIVE

The trip up to Marquette Mansion was a brief one. Comfortable in another borrowed T-shirt from Arianna, I wore it with my now dry leggings and jacket. Arianna and I chatted as she drove around and behind the eastern side of the mansion. To my surprise she parked her car in a gravel lot beside a charming two-story stone carriage house.

"The family parks back here," she explained as she cut the engine.

"I remember seeing this building at a distance from the formal gardens when we were here for Angela's wedding," I said as we climbed from the car.

Arianna shut her door. "I lived here for a time when I first came back to Ames Crossing," she told me. "There's an apartment above the garage."

I eyeballed the rustic building. "It's like a faery-tale cottage."

"It is," Arianna said. "Living room, kitchenette, bath, and a nice size bedroom. It's wonderful."

"So private and secluded," I said, smiling at the pots of golden chrysanthemums that went up the steps to a small landing. "I bet you loved living here."

Arianna smiled. "I did love it. Angela rented it also. She loved it so much that she lived here with Ryder too, until they bought their house this past spring."

Hearing that, I decided that I would speak to Gabriella and Philippe about the possibility of renting the property for myself. With a last look at the carriage house, we walked around to the front of the mansion and went in through the family entrance.

I'd never entered the building this way before. The lower level of the family wing opened onto a lobby with an elaborate wooden staircase decorated for the fall. To the right I saw offices and a conference room.

There was a console table near the door and several pumpkins were arranged on it, along with silk foliage in rich, autumn hues. A matching garland of leaves wrapped its way up the banister of the staircase and tiny amber lights were twinkling there.

Arianna went to a doorway on the left, used a key card and opened it. I then followed her down a hallway that led to the commercial two-thirds of the mansion. Public restrooms, a smaller conference room, and the museum room were here. Beyond that was the lobby of the hotel and the ballroom.

We walked into the museum room, and I found Gabriella Midnight-Marquette sitting at a long table with boxes of papers, old clothing, and assorted memorabilia both on the table and the floor all around her.

"Wow," Arianna said. "You weren't kidding when you said Philippe had found a cache of antiques and ephemera in the attics."

Gabriella glanced up and jumped to her feet. "Hi, Arianna. Cordelia, this is a nice surprise." She gave us each a hug.

"Hello," I said. "I hope it's okay that I tagged along."

"Sure," Gabriella said. "I can always use another set of hands going through this. We've got until two o'clock before the haunted tours begin."

Arianna set her purse on a glass display case. "I can't wait to see what sort of history we can uncover about the Marquette family."

Gabriella blew a blonde curl out of her eyes. "This all looks like items from the early 1900s when one of Philippe's great uncles tried to make the original winery a go."

In short order the three of us were sitting at the table and sorting the items into piles. I had half expected that Gabriella would ask me a bunch of questions about what had happened with Ryder, but she didn't. Which was a huge relief for me. I truly needed a break from talking about it all.

After a few hours of sorting, I volunteered to go and get us some soft drinks. Gabriella told me to head down to the bar, and that one of the event staff should be available to help me.

I'd attended two Halloween Masquerade Balls here, as well as Angela and Ryder's wedding, so I actually knew my way around the commercial side of the building. I walked into the main event space and over to the bar to find Estella Marquette doing inventory while her daughter, Isabella, sat on top of the wide polished bar top with a coloring book.

The toddler's hair was dark like her parents, and she wore jeans, sneakers, and an orange t-shirt featuring as black cat wearing a Witch's hat. The t-shirt proclaimed, in bold letters: Witch In Training.

I couldn't help but chuckle.

The little girl spotted me and grinned. "Hi!" Isabella shouted happily.

Estella waved. "Hey, Cordelia," she said. "How's it going, chica?"

"Hi, Estella." I waved back. "I've been sent for soft drinks while Gabriella and Arianna try and organize the latest find."

"I can take care of that for you." Estella nodded.

"Two ginger ales, and a cola for me, please," I said, walking over to the bar.

"Dragooned you into helping, did they?" Estella grinned at me and began to fill glasses with ice.

"I volunteered," I told her and climbed onto a barstool.

"Better you than me," she said, shuddering dramatically.

"It's interesting seeing all the antique papers," I said. "They found an old ledger filled with the household accounts from the early 1900s."

"Fascinating," Estella said dryly.

"Arianna seemed to think so."

"Yeah well, she's an archeologist; that would be right up her alley I suppose."

"Look!" Isabella waved a crayon at me, determined to show me her coloring book.

"Wow," I told her. "Look at those pages you did."

Estella placed the cola off to my side. "If you'll keep an eye on my monster, I'll go run these to Gabriella and Arianna."

"Oh." I blinked at that. "Sure."

"Cool," Estella said as she moved from around the bar. "Because when I get back, I'd like to have a word with you."

"Oh," I said again, frowning at her retreating back.

Isabella patted my face. "Sad?" she asked.

"No, I'm not sad," I said. "I'm wondering if I'm about to get a lecture from your Mama."

"Book?" Isabella asked, giving me a winsome smile.

"Sure," I said and picked up a crayon to color a page with the toddler.

Estella returned and slipped back around to the rear of the bar. "Heard all about the excitement at the aquatic center. It's all over the news. You doing okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," I said quickly and took a sip of my soda so I wouldn't have to say anything else. Hopefully.

"Cordelia." Estella's voice was quiet but firm. "I wasn't trying to be all up in your business. I am asking if you are safe ."

"I wasn't the one who was hurt."

"No," she said evenly. "But you're the one who is being—I guess you'd say—stalked."

I lifted my gaze from the coloring book to make direct eye contact with Estella. "I am aware."

Her dark gaze did not flinch. "Do you think it's an obsessed fan from your Olympic swimming days?"

I blew out a long breath. "I honestly don't know. But whoever they are, they certainly hate me." I stopped and slanted a meaningful look at the toddler. "Not sure this is the best place to be discussing this."

Estella waved away my concerns. "She's too young to understand what we're saying."

Isabella suddenly became interested in my glass of soda, and to distract her, Estella nudged a pink sippy cup within the child's line of sight.

"Juice!" Isabella announced. She grabbed her sippy cup and proceeded to chug. Once she finished, she banged it down on the bar top and went back to coloring in her book with a vengeance.

I couldn't help but smile at Isabella's antics.

"You know what I find fascinating about you, Cordelia?" Estella asked.

Before I could reply, Estella was barreling right along.

"You're a mystery," she said. "Your sister, Brynn? She's creative, down-to-earth and practical. Kenna has got all that fiery energy and humor; and Skye is quick, clever and snarky as hell. Then there's you. And I still can't figure you out. You've got, like, hidden depths. The more I look at you—the less I actually see."

"Hidden depths." I tried a smile to lighten the mood. "Nice water pun."

"No, I'm serious," she said. "I've known you for a couple of years now. And you're still nothing like I imagined you would be."

"Meaning?"

"Well, you know. A professional athlete—the sports personality type."

My eyebrows raised. "Did you expect me to show up wearing sunglasses with all my swimming medals around my neck?"

"Maybe just one." Estella grinned. "Allow me my illusions."

Now I smiled. "The press attention from winning an Olympic medal, the television interviews…and possible endorsements…"

"A guest spot on Dancing with the Stars ." Estella wiggled her eyebrows at her own joke.

"Goddess forbid," I said. "Anyway, the fame can go to some people's heads." I shrugged. "It never went to mine."

Estella rested her elbows on the bar across from me. "Being married to Chauncey, I have an understanding of that side of the sports world. Better than most."

"That's right," I remembered. "He used to race Formula One cars."

Estella grinned. "Back in the day, before I ever met him, he bopped around with the rich and famous on the racing circuit." She paused a beat. "It didn't make him happy."

"Personally, I hate the celebrity aspect of my sport," I admitted. "The intense media attention…and some fans can become very demanding. Which is at an insane level when you compete at the Worlds or the Olympics. Now while I love swimming—the discipline and the challenge of it—the truth is the Olympics, for all their prestige, are only a short period of time for swimmers. There's always the next competition, and you always know no matter how good you are or how much you train, there's somebody younger and faster, creeping up on your best time."

As I spoke, Isabella leaned her head against my arm. Automatically, I put my hand on her small back and rubbed it. In response, the toddler yawned and snuggled closer. Before I could guess what she was about, she had put her arms around my neck. I could sense how sleepy she was, so I scooped her up and with a happy sigh, she relaxed against me.

"Take a nap, baby girl," I told her.

Isabella reached up, grabbed a handful of my hair, and laid her head down on my shoulder.

Estella smiled. "You have a way with her."

I began to rub Isabella's back. "She's beautiful."

"What you shared with me," Estella began, "sounds extremely stressful, especially for an empath. You're a lot stronger—and I don't mean physically—than I would have ever guessed."

"It was a trade off," I admitted. "I had to find a way to survive the sport I love. So, I learned to shut everything out. Emotionally and psychically. But it did cost me."

"Which is why you retired from it relatively early," Estella said.

"I wanted a quieter, less stressful life," I said. "I thought living in Alton…coaching a high school swim team…I'd be off the radar."

"What can I do to help you, Cordelia?" she asked.

I considered her for a moment. Estella wasn't the type to offer pity. She was tough, yet loving and loyal to her family.

"Actually," I began. "Would you happen to know of any place in Ames Crossing that has a room to rent? Someplace private, quiet, and out of the way. I don't need much."

Estella's eyes narrowed. "Thought you lived in the lower level of that big old house on the hill?"

"I do," I said. "But I'm thinking that it might be a good idea for me to get out of Alton and put some space between myself and the rest of my family for a few months."

"To make yourself harder to find and your family less of a possible target," Estella said.

"Exactly."

"I don't blame you." She drummed her fingers on the bar top. "I'd do the same if I were in your shoes."

"Do you know if the carriage house is available to rent?" I asked her. "Arianna told me she used to live there, and I wondered if it was open." Catching movement out of the corner of my eye, I turned to see Chauncey Marquette, Estella's husband, walk into the bar.

"Hello, Cordelia." Chauncey had a startled expression on his face.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"Isabella actually fell asleep on your shoulder." He chuckled in amazement. "Lately she won't let anyone hold her except us, or Gabriella and Philippe."

"I told you," Estella said. "It's a phase."

Chauncey rolled his eyes. "Tell that to your Gran, or the rest of your sisters and cousins."

Estella scoffed. "It'll pass. Anyway, I think I've found a renter for the carriage house apartment."

"Have you?" he asked. "Who?"

Estella pointed at me. "Cordelia."

"I was asking Estella if it was available," I said.

Estella tipped her head to one side. "It'd work though. There's security cameras everywhere on the grounds and also covering the carriage house; it's private but only a stone's throw away if you needed help."

"I like the sound of that," I said, keeping my voice low as to not wake Isabella.

"We also have ‘round the clock security at the hotel," she pointed out. "Seriously, there's always someone here. They monitor and patrol the gardens and grounds. Day and night."

I looked from Estella to Chauncey. "Do you think Philippe and Gabriella would be okay with me living—"

"Why wouldn't they?" Estella interrupted me impatiently.

"Well, I wouldn't want to cause any safety issues or concerns for Philippe and Gabrielle," I told her. "Or their kids—"

Estella cut me off again. "They live in a completely separate building...as in the mansion. How would you cause them any problems?"

"Okay." I nodded. "I'll go speak with them right now."

"Hang on," Chauncey said. "You don't need their permission. The carriage house technically belongs to me."

I was surprised at the news. "It does?"

"Yes," Estella said. "And if you lived here, you could take advantage of the new indoor swimming pool the hotel put in this past summer...I mean it's not huge but it's still plenty big enough for you to swim laps in."

That news made me smile. "That's great. I didn't realize the hotel had added a pool."

"Yes, we did." Chauncey nodded. "We built it where a solarium once stood, off the lower west wing. It's become very popular with our guests."

It felt like fate had started to turn in my favor. The carriage house was someplace private and not too far—maybe a twenty-minute drive from where I worked at the aquatic center. Security was already in place, and I would have access to a pool.

"Chauncey, Estella," I said. "I'd like to rent the carriage house for a few months."

Chauncey pulled a key ring from his pocket. "How about we go and take a tour of the carriage house apartment?"

"I'd love to," I said.

***

After touring the charming interior of the carriage house, I signed the paperwork for a two-month lease. The rent was very reasonable—probably well below what they could have rented it out for—but I didn't quibble. Instead, I was thankful.

By the time I went back to the village with Arianna later that afternoon, we'd already worked out that Rafe would drive me back to Alton and the aquatic center so I could pick up my car that night. After I got my car, I would zip back home and pack.

While Rafe drove me back to Alton, I took the opportunity and visualized adding more layers to the psychic shields I habitually maintained—even when around my own sisters.

Going home would be like walking a gauntlet. I would need every bit of protection I could get from their emotions and worry. I knew they loved me, as I did them, but still, my empathy was more often than not a disadvantage. Especially for a woman who struggled with anxiety.

There were no other cars in the lot when he dropped me off; and I was relieved to see that the center was quiet. For safety, Rafe waited while I started my car and then backed out of the parking spot. Feeling calmer and in control, I followed him out and gave him a wave in thanks. He left for Ames Crossing, and I drove back to the hill.

As I'd anticipated, all three of my sisters all descended on me as soon as I walked in the door. They weren't happy about me not contacting them after the incident at the aquatic center, not telling them about the break-up with Tim, and disappearing.

"I know that Grandma Althea talked to you..." I began, but that was cut off by a bombardment of sisterly outrage and concern.

After a few minutes of non-stop haranguing, I snapped and shouted at them all to shut up; for me that was out of character. They were startled into silence by my outburst, and finally I was able to tell them my plan to relocate temporarily.

It was Skye who broke the ensuing awkward silence by agreeing that it was a smart move.

"When?" she asked. "When will you go, Cordy?"

"Immediately," I said. "I plan to be on the road first thing in the morning."

Brynn stepped forward and enfolded me in a big hug. "I'm so sorry that this is happening to you. How can we help?"

"You can help me pack," I told her. "I've got a lot to do in a short amount of time."

In the end, Kenna gave me some cardboard boxes that she used to transport bread in, so I could pack my belongings. Brynn and Skye rolled up their sleeves and helped me pack my clothes and a few necessities, and they all promised to keep my new location as private as possible.

However, the rest of my evening did not go as easily as I'd hoped for. Of course there was the police to deal with, and there was also my coaching job.

Austin had called while I'd been packing, and he informed me that there were no leads on the attacker. Whoever they were, they had slipped in under the view of the security cameras—which admittedly were not the most cutting edge. While the police department was pursuing all angles of the case, Austin was now very concerned for my safety and agreed with my plan to relocate temporarily.

No sooner had I finished that conversation, when the manager of the aquatic center called. He had spoken to the police about the center being closed for the time being, and I'd been placed on administrative leave for the foreseeable future. I was told it was to keep the press away—the local news had been having a field day apparently. But the leave was also to help protect my privacy and to ensure the safety of the students.

Still, he'd been kind. Telling me to take a few weeks off and to decompress, assuring me that he would try and deflect the press, and that my job would be here waiting for me, as soon as things settled down.

I tried not to take the ‘administrative leave' thing personally, but it still hurt. In the end I was feeling more than a little put upon, apprehensive, and paranoid , when I left the next day.

Leaving the hill at sunrise, I drove out of the neighborhood with my hair all bundled up under a baseball cap and wearing my sister's mirrored sunglasses as a disguise.

"Cue the Mission Impossible theme music," I muttered.

I was also driving a different car. At Skye's suggestion, we swapped cars temporarily. Her gray two-door was unremarkable and would make me less noticeable. My sturdy VW Bug was too recognizable with its custom paint color of aqua blue.

After all, as Skye pointed out, she worked from home; my old car was more than adequate for any driving she might need to do around town.

To be on the safe side, I did not drive a direct route to Ames Crossing. Instead, I cruised back into Alton and the downtown morning traffic, hoping to confuse anyone who might be watching or following. After detouring through the suburbs, I hit a drive-thru for breakfast. I stopped and ate in the restaurant's parking lot and felt relatively secure that I had not been followed—by the press or anyone else.

Keeping my ‘disguise' in place, I made my way back to downtown Alton, checking my rear view off and on, before eventually turning down the river road towards Ames Crossing. My shoulders didn't relax until I parked beside the carriage house.

Giving myself a moment to settle, I blew out a long breath, shut my eyes, and rested my head against the car seat.

"New beginnings," I told myself.

I'd take this time off and get my head together about everything that had happened. The time in Ames Crossing could be good for me. A sort of reset. Feeling steadier with a plan in mind, I climbed from the car and shut the door behind me.

Taking another moment, I leaned against Skye's car and simply appreciated the beauty of the formal fall gardens that my temporary home overlooked. The leaves in the woods at the back of the property were a butterscotch gold, and the peacefulness began to work its magick on me almost immediately.

I heard the crunch of footsteps against the gravel pathways and saw Chauncey Marquette. He hesitated for a moment, then gave a friendly wave as he walked through the gardens and over to me.

"Good morning," I said.

"It was smart to drive a different car," he said.

"It was Skye's suggestion—and it's her car," I admitted.

"When I first saw you, I thought it was Skye. With your hair under the hat and the sunglasses, you truly look like her."

I tugged the sunglasses off. "It's a disguise. It's silly and probably overkill—"

"No," he said. "It's not silly. It's smart." He handed me a set of keys. "Would you like some help carrying your things up?"

"Nah, it's fine," I said. "It's not a lot."

"We stocked the fridge and pantry," he said.

"Oh. That was nice. You didn't have to—"

"We wanted to," he said. "We also pulled the wrought iron café table and chairs out of storage for you." Chauncey pointed to the side of the carriage house. "In case you felt like eating outside."

I craned my head and saw a deep green table and chairs arranged on a small brick patio. "What a pretty space," I said, smiling at the table that had a striped umbrella.

"Ryder and Angela built that patio when they lived here," Chauncey explained. "Ryder liked to grill, and they wanted a spot for outdoor dining."

"It's great," I said.

"You've got mine and Estella's cell numbers, and Philippe and Gabriella's, right?"

I nodded. "I do."

"Good. I'll text you the security officer's number as well. Make sure you add it to your phone."

"Of course."

Gabriella came hustling around the side of the family's wing. "Morning!" she called out. "I'm here to help you settle in."

Gabriella cheerfully shooed Chauncey off and before I knew it, she was taking my suitcases out of my trunk and hauling them up the steps to the apartment over the carriage house.

It was impossible not to like Gabriella Midnight-Marquette. Her curling blonde hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, and she moved like lightning. Even though I tried to tell her that I was fine, she insisted upon helping bring my things up the stairs.

"With the twins in kindergarten now, I have free time in the mornings," she said. "I'm still trying to learn what to do with it. Besides, I wanted to help you."

"Well, thank you."

She nodded. "Did Chauncey give you the codes for the door to the family's wing?"

"He did."

"There's also a laundry room here for you to use. It's downstairs off the garage."

"Yup. Chauncey and Estella showed me."

She gestured to all the boxes and my suitcases. "You sure you don't want me to stay and help you put your things away?"

I smiled. "I want to do it on my own. It'll help me relax."

"Okay." She headed for the door and opened it, but paused. "Come over for supper tonight."

I opened my mouth to decline.

"Five o'clock," she said. "No arguments."

"I suppose. Let me see how today goes," I said, hooking my thumb toward the gardens. "I was planning on puttering and maybe strolling through those formal gardens out there."

"Come for supper," she repeated.

"We'll see."

"I can always send Estella over here later," Gabriella replied. "If you even think about refusing, she'll nag you brainless. Or...I can get really creative."

I folded my hands at my waist. "Understood."

Gabriella smiled. "Take today and find your bearings. Have your long walk around the gardens, go swim in the hotel pool; and make yourself at home. We'll see you at five."

"Thank you, Gabriella."

"We got your back," she said. "You'll be safe here with us."

She left, closing the door behind her. Making an effort to drop the psychic shields I habitually kept in place, I let them fall and shuddered in relief.

The release—lack of pressure—that I felt at not having to be so shielded to protect myself from other's emotions was staggering. "This is going to take some getting used to," I decided. But truthfully, I had nothing on my hands but time to work through the changes in my life.

"One step at a time, Cordelia," I told myself. Rising to my feet, I grabbed a box at random and started to unpack.

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