"Are you all right?" Jean-Luc touched her elbow as he escorted her back into the foyer.
"I'm tired." Heather rubbed her eyes. "But I'm too nervous to sleep, and Billy might come back with more questions."
"Would you like to see my office? We could be alone there to talk."
Talk? He'd end up kissing her again, and as lovely as that sounded, she didn't want to throw herself at him to take her mind off a dead body. "No, not tonight. I–I'd like to be alone for a while. I think I'll get some work done." She headed for the design studio.
"I'll let you in." He walked beside her. "Heather, I don't want you to feel…trapped here. I know this is the safest place for you, but if you wish to leave…"
She touched his arm. "I'm staying here."
"Good."
She wondered if he'd overheard her conversation with Billy. If so, he had excellent hearing.
He punched the keypad and opened the door for her. "I'll be in my office if you need me. And Robby's in the security office."
"I'll be fine, thank you."
With a sad look, he touched her cheek, then walked away.
Heather meandered to the worktable and looked over her sketches. She took a few deep breaths and tried to push all the wretched memories away. For just a little while, she needed to escape.
She needed to create something beautiful.
She selected the design she wanted to make first and the fabric, a royal-blue silk chiffon. Then she went to work making the pattern. After a few hours, she had one she was happy with. She cut out the material.
"Mrs. Westfield?" Robby peeked in the door. "Yer daughter just came down the stairs. Jean-Luc took her into the kitchen. I thought ye'd like to know."
"Yes. Thank you." Heather rushed into the hallway and accompanied Robby across the showroom.
"I saw her pass by the camera outside Jean-Luc's office," Robby explained. "I called him, and he helped her down the stairs and into the kitchen. I hope ye doona mind."
"No, not at all. I'm glad someone was awake to take care of her."
"If ye need me, I'll be in here." Robby let himself into the security office.
"Good night." Heather continued on to the kitchen and eased open the door silently. She heard Bethany's voice.
"I'll be Barbie, and you can be the crocodile."
"Very well," Jean-Luc answered quietly.
"What's he doing?" Bethany asked.
"He's bowing. 'Good day, milady. "
Bethany giggled. "Crocodiles don't bow."
"They should when they meet a princess."
Bethany laughed some more. "You bow like that when you see me."
"Because you're a princess. This house didn't have a princess till you came."
Heather's heart expanded. What a sweet thing to say.
"I know!" Bethany sounded excited. "Let's pretend I'm the princess, and the crocodile is a frog."
"Ribbit," Jean-Luc croaked.
Bethany burst into giggles. Heather smiled to herself.
"And then the princess kisses the frog." Bethany made a loud smacking noise. "And he turns into a prince. And now, they're in love forever."
There was a pause, and Heather waited to hear what Jean-Luc would say next.
His voice sounded low and tense. "Can the fair maiden love him when he's…an ugly creature?"
Heather almost yelled yes. But surely Jean-Luc wasn't referring to himself? He wasn't a creature.
He was gorgeous and sweet. The most perfect man she'd ever met. There was no point in denying it any longer. She was falling in love with him.
"I think so," Bethany answered seriously. "Princess Fiona fell in love with Shrek, and he's a green ogre."
Heather beamed with pride over her brilliant daughter.
"I haven't heard of this Shrek," Jean-Luc said.
"You don't know Shrek?" Bethany sounded amazed. "I have it at home. You can watch it with me."
"I would like that," Jean-Luc replied.
Heather closed the door with a thud. "Hello?" She walked through the sitting area and spotted them at the kitchen table.
"Mama!" Bethany leaped toward her. "I woke up and you weren't in bed with me."
"I'm sorry." She knelt to hug her daughter. "I was working late."
Jean-Luc stood. "I gave her some milk and cookies. I hope you don't mind."
"No." She smiled at him. "You're a sweetheart."
The corner of his mouth lifted, and his eyes glimmered with emotion. And yet he seemed to be at a loss for words. Heather's heart filled with love and longing.
The door opened behind them, and Robby spoke, "The sheriff is back. He wants to interview us each separately."
"I'll go first." Jean-Luc headed for the door.
"Come, sweetie." Heather ushered her daughter to the door, too. "Let's get you back in bed."
She led Bethany to their bedroom and read a book to her until she fell asleep. Heather glanced at the clock. A little after three A.M. Good Lord, this night was endless. Yawning, she descended the stairs and found Billy waiting for her. After thirty minutes of questioning, he was done, and Robby escorted him from the building.
With a sigh, Heather headed back to the stairs. Finally, she'd get some sleep.
She heard music and stopped to listen. Classical music. She eased toward the cellar door and pressed her ear against it. A piano and harpsichord.
"Can I help you?" Robby sauntered toward her.
"I was just going to bed. Good night." She dashed up the backstairs to her bedroom.
Why were so many people in the cellar, when she and her family were locked out? What was Jean-Luc hiding? A spurt of anger gripped her. She was trusting him with her life and with the lives of Bethany and Fidelia. Why couldn't he trust her?
She knew she was falling in love with him. If they were going to have a successful relationship, there couldn't be secrets between them. And if he wasn't going to divulge his secrets, she would discover them on her own.
Nothing would stop her. Especially not fear.
CHAPTER 18
Red glowing eyes, danger, the flash of white, gnashing teeth. Mrs. Bolton's dead body sprawled on the floor. Heather jerked awake.
"Mama, are you all right?" Bethany stood by the bed, her eyes wide with worry.
Heather took a deep breath. It was just a bad dream. Fidelia's warning about red glowing eyes had seeped into her own dreams and memories.
"You okay?" Fidelia sat on her bed, tying her shoelaces. She and Bethany were already dressed.
"I'm fine." Heather glanced at the bedside clock. Ten minutes after ten. "I overslept." Not surprising since she'd been up most the night. "Have you had any more dreams?" she asked Fidelia quietly.
The older woman frowned and mouthed the word fire.
Fire? Heather raised her eyebrows. She wanted to know more, but didn't want to discuss it in front of Bethany.
The little girl ran to the door. "I'm hungry."
"Let's get some breakfast." Fidelia ushered her out.
"Was it bad?" Heather asked just as Fidelia was closing the door. "The fire?" she whispered. Fidelia winced. "Infierno." She shut the door.
Hell? Heather shuddered. Was that Louie's plan? To set this house on fire and kill them all? She showered, dressed, and went to the kitchen for a quick breakfast.
Afterward, she asked Pierre to let her into the design studio. "I could let myself in if I knew the combination."
Pierre propped the doors open. "I'll ask Robby. No one can know the combination without his permission."
"I see." She hated the locked doors as much as all the surveillance cameras that were being installed, but it couldn't be helped. She strolled into the room and halted in front of her worktable.
For a second, she couldn't believe her eyes. She blinked. No, it was real.
There on the table, her sketches were ripped in two. The royal-blue silk chiffon that she'd cut so carefully the night before was slashed and mutilated. She cried out.