Cooper’s shoulder sink. “No, I guess you’re right. Besides, if it showed up now, it would raise more suspicions than before.”
I nod. “Or seal our fate. Even though we wiped it down, there’s no telling what evidence we might leave behind. It was coated in Jack’s and my blood, not to mention our fingerprints. What if our DNA is still deep inside that engraving? You know they only need a tiny amount of that stuff to test.” I stare at Jack’s right hand, which is currently wrapped around the scrolled BBR, the initials of Bloody Bill Ransom, the Dagger’s captain.
Cooper rubs his chin. “You’re right. As much as I hoped to return it, we can’t.”
“But what do we do with it?” Jack asks. “We can’t keep it here or at the caretaker’s cottage. If someone finds it, they’re liable to think Dad or Beau stole it.”
I nod. “Definitely. We need to put it somewhere no one’s going to find it.” I search my mind for the perfect hiding place. An idea pops to mind. “Hey, what about putting it back in the tabby box down at the ruins?” It’s where we found it in the first place and where it had been locked up for at least a century.
Before they can answer, Missy’s voice travels up the grand staircase, then winds around the second-floor landing and carries down the hall, through the closed door. “Cooper! Where you at? I need you.”
Cooper stiffens. “Why can’t she leave me alone?”
“Because she’s on a mission to destroy your life,” Jack answers.
“Maybe if we’re quiet she’ll go away.” Judging from the defeated expression on Cooper’s face, he knows that’s not likely.
Jack snorts. “Right and maybe I’ll sprout wings and fly out that window.”
“I saw that horrible station wagon of yours out front,” Missy trills. “I know you’re here. Don’t make me come up there to get you.”
Grinding his teeth, Cooper takes the knife from Jack and slides into the paper bag. “The tabby ruins is the perfect hiding place. But we’ll need all day to dig out that box and bury it again so it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” Sliding off the bed, he crosses the room to his bookcase and pulls a thick calculus textbook from the bottom shelf. “With my dad and Missy around, we can’t risk taking the knife downstairs now. It’ll have to keep here until we can hide it for good.” Opening the cover, he leafs past the first few pages to reveal a hollowed-out center.
Jack’s eyes gleam. “Awesome.”
I blink. “Wow.” Not that having a secret stash is a huge deal. Heck, Jack’s got plenty of them. But Cooper isn’t sneaky enough to need one.
Cooper shrugs. “Boarding school. It’s the only way to keep anything private from snooping roommates.”
“Or smuggle in contraband.” Jack waggles his brows.
“It’s where I keep my letters from you two. Well, from Emma. You never do more than sign a Christmas card.” He scowls at Jack.
Jack rolls his eyes. “Hey, I comment on your Tumblr posts.”
Cooper smirks. “Thanks, it’s a real comfort during the long, lonely nights.”
My heart warms at the thought of him reading my letters, and that they mean enough to hide from his friends.
“Cooper! I’m done waiting on you!” Missy’s stilettos clomp up the grand staircase.
“She’s coming!” I whisper.
Cooper slams the calculus text closed, shoves it back in its spot on the case, and then covers it with more heavy books.
We sprint to the door and open it just as she reaches the top of the steps.
Cooper smiles, looking as innocent as baby lamb. “Oh hi, Missy. We were just on our way downstairs.”
She crosses her arms. “Didn’t you hear me calling you? I’ve been hollering my head off.” Her hair is frazzled and her eyes crazed. Her lipstick is off-kilter again and her blush streaks across her cheeks in two wide, rose-colored blocks. She’s normally model-perfect, but now she looks like she put on her makeup in the dark.
He nods. “Yes, which is why we’re headed downstairs. Did you need something?”
“Why else would I bother chasing after you? And since your little friends are here, they might as well lend a hand, too.” She pivots, then stomps back down the stairs.
When we reach the bottom, she points toward the far end of the wing. The lacquered nail on her index finger is jagged and torn. “I, uh…moved some furniture in the solarium that you boys need to put back in place. And, Ella, find a broom. There’s a little broken glass on the floor.”
Biting my tongue, I pace to the utility closet off the butler’s pantry, then grab a sponge mop and dustpan because I can’t find a broom. Anger roils in my gut. Hasn’t she ever heard the word please? Or how about thank you? Since when did I become her personal maid? Doesn’t she torture her biweekly cleaning-service ladies enough? I don’t know what Beau pays them to drive down from Charleston and put up with her crap, but it must be a mint. Slamming the door, I tromp down the hall and join the guys in the solarium.
My eyes pop. A little glass? Forget the mop, this destruction is going to require a dump truck. She’s not only managed to break the entire twenty-five piece margarita set that used to sit on the baker’s rack, but the chandelier that used to hang in the middle of the room is splayed on the floor, every one of its bulbs and dripping crystals smashed to bits on the flagstone. Cooper and Jack stand motionless, equally paralyzed by the wreckage before them. Missy didn’t just “move” some furniture. She overturned every piece in the room, including the bar, which was filled with tumblers, snifters, and other glass vessels that likely lie broken beneath it, awaiting cleaning up.
“Dang,” Jack finally utters.
“Welcome to my world,” Cooper deadpans.
I run my fingers through my long hair, pulling it off my forehead. “This is insane. She can’t expect us to clean this up.”
Missy’s stilettos click behind us. “What are y’all waiting for? Get going.” She smacks her gum.
“Missy!” Beau bellows, his voice rough and gravelly. He clambers out of the library, heaving his body forward on unsteady legs and his overburdened cane. He’s just as wobbly as he was the night on the veranda, perhaps more so.
“Uh-oh,” Jack whispers under his breath.
Cooper shoves an elbow in his side. “Shh.”
Missy freezes. “Don’t trouble yourself, baby. Go on back to your business pages. Want me to get you another scotch? How about a cigar?” Her voice trembles.
Grunting, he ignores her as he plods toward us, his gelatinous body undulating with each step. He’s in such obvious distress, half of me wants to run and help him, but the other half fears he’ll trip and crush me.
Just before he reaches the solarium, Missy shuffles forward on her high heels and clutches his arm. “You need your rest, sugar. Come, let me take you back to the library.”
“Don’t touch me.” Nearly out of breath, he yanks from her grasp. His eyes are bloodshot and sunken in their sockets. The familiar scent of rotten bologna hovers, mixed with a healthy serving of scotch. “I work all day to keep this roof over your head and you can’t see fit to give me a moment’s peace.” With each syllable, he thrusts his gray tongue forward and maneuvers his mouth as if deliberately forming every word. His chest gurgles as he sucks for air through thin blue lips. Then his eyes meet mine. “Ah, Emma, it’s wonderful to see you, as always.” His tongue hangs slack as his gaze drops and he appears to take me in. Lurching forward, he heads toward me.
Missy scampers after him. “Sweetness, wait—”
But it’s too late, he’s at the door to the solarium. And he’s seen the carnage.
For a second, his skin flushes crimson before returning to its normal pale gray. “Now what have you done?”