The Best Man to Trust

CHAPTER Four



Doors along the corridor began to fly open, disgruntled voices emerging to echo into the hall.

“What the hell—”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Meredith jerked her head up. Oh God. She had to get it together. She didn’t just have a murder on her hands. She had a houseful of people to tend to, a group that would need her to maintain some semblance of order and control.

She’d just barely managed to get a grip on her emotions when her guests began to appear in their doorways. Almost as soon as they appeared, they slammed to a stop as soon as they laid eyes on the sight in the middle of the hall.

“Oh, my God! Haley!”

Rachel peered out from behind Scott’s shoulder, both of their faces white.

Alex cleared his throat. “Is she—”

“We should probably check to be sure,” Tom murmured behind her.

Before Meredith could respond, he quickly moved past her. Bending on his knee beside Haley, he pressed a hand to her neck. A few seconds later, his expression fell further, his mouth forming a grim line that told Meredith what he’d found before he glanced up at her and gave his head a small shake.

Rachel let out an anguished groan.

Jessica, whose screams had begun to die down, picked up again, her screeching growing louder and more feverish.

Pushing past Scott, Rachel walked up to Jessica and grabbed her by both shoulders, shaking her gently. “Jess, stop it! That’s not helping!”

Whether it was the words or the shaking, Jessica seemed to snap out of it slightly, her screams finally fading, turning into whimpers. “But she’s—”

“Yes,” Rachel said, a noticeable tremor in her voice. She glanced back at Haley. “She’s dead.”

“Who could have done this?” a man asked—Alex, Meredith registered a moment later—his voice heavy with shock and disbelief.

“It’s the killer!” Jessica shrieked. “The same one who murdered the first woman who came here to be married! The killer is still on the loose, still here!”

“No,” Meredith said firmly, not about to let the rumor take hold. “The killer was caught and, more important, is dead now.”

Jessica whirled on her, her face twisting with hatred. “Why should we believe you? Maybe you just said that to trick people into coming here again. Maybe you lied about that the way you did about Brad.”

The words were like a slap to her face, and Meredith nearly recoiled. As soon as she had the impulse, she knew it was exactly what she couldn’t do. She couldn’t afford to show the slightest weakness to any of these people—not now. And damned if she’d let this woman have the satisfaction of knowing she’d hurt her—not ever.

Shaking inside, Meredith summoned every bit of strength she had and kept the reaction off her face. She held the woman’s gaze, staring her down.

“You don’t have to believe me,” she said, her voice even and steady. “I’m telling the truth. What you choose to believe is up to you. But if you don’t have anything helpful to contribute, please keep quiet while the rest of us work through this.”

Jessica actually did recoil at the statement. Out of the corner of her eye Meredith saw a few eyebrows go up on the several of the others’ faces, too. Good, she thought. Better they all know right now that she wasn’t messing around. Not only would it be easier for her to keep things under control, it would make them all calmer knowing someone was.

“Besides, Jess,” Greg said with a wobbly grin. “That killer went after brides, not maids of honor. Right, Meredith?”

“Shut up, Greg,” Scott said darkly. “You’re not helping.”

“Why not?” Greg asked. “That should make her feel better.”

“Jess,” Tom interjected. “Did you see anyone or anything in the hall when you found Haley?”

Jessica appeared to consider the question. “I—I don’t think so. But I really wasn’t paying attention. I came out into the hall, and that’s when I saw her. I didn’t really notice anything else.”

“What were you even doing in the hall in the middle of the night?” Alex asked.

“I had to use the bathroom,” she said with a touch of defensiveness. It was a believable explanation. Sutton Hall had been built in the 1870s and only the larger suites, both in the towers and right next to them, had en suite bathrooms. Scott and Rachel’s room had one, but the rest of the wedding party were using the two bathrooms along the hall.

“What do you want to do?” Tom asked, directing the question to Meredith. He’d risen to his feet and stood facing her. The sound of the calmness in his voice soothed her nerves just as much as she hoped hers did for the others. She nearly smiled at him in gratitude.

Meredith thought quickly. “First we need to call the police. I don’t suppose anyone’s cell is working?”

Several of the group shook their heads. Tom dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After a moment of staring at the screen, he shook his head. “Mine still isn’t.”

“I tried the landline a little while ago to test it and it was still working. Hopefully it still is.”

“Even if you reach them, will they be able to get through in this weather?” Scott asked.

Meredith hesitated the slightest moment before admitting, “Maybe not.” She saw the panic flash across several faces and quickly added, “But I don’t know that for sure. Let me call and see what they say first. This is my first time up here in a storm this bad. The locals might be better at getting around in this kind of snow.” She wasn’t holding out much hope, but for the time being, it was better if everyone had at least a little. “Why doesn’t everyone come down and wait in the living room while I make the call?”

“What about Haley?” Rachel asked quietly. Meredith saw she was still staring at her fallen friend. “We can’t just leave her lying there.”

Meredith glanced down at the body. Haley’s eyes were now closed. Tom must have done it, a gesture of respect Meredith appreciated. “At the moment, this is a crime scene. We shouldn’t move anything until I speak with the police and see when they might be able to get here and how they’d like us to proceed. Let’s all go downstairs and I’ll make that call.”

She turned and started for the stairs, hoping the others would follow. A few moments later, she heard their muffled footsteps on the carpet behind her and exhaled slightly in relief.

The chandelier was aglow in the main foyer, shining sparkling rays of light across the staircase and marble floor below. Still, as Meredith reached the top of the stairs and peered down, she had to suppress a shudder. With no lights coming from the front windows or side halls, the foyer still seemed dim somehow, heavy with darkness and shadows. Meredith had never noticed before how the beams from the chandelier were diamond-shaped, pointed like little knives. There were small spaces between them, spaces that seemed darker, and there were so many places along the edge of the room they didn’t reach, leaving them in shadow.

She didn’t let herself hesitate, plunging down the stairs without missing a step. She kept her spine straight and her stride even, tamping down on the butterflies in her stomach. She couldn’t let anyone know she was the slightest bit on edge. They moved in silence down the grand staircase, the rugs silencing the sound of their steps, emphasizing the eeriness of their progression. Only when her feet hit the bottom and they veered off the rugs onto the marble floor did they make a sound, echoing into the high ceilings above.

The living room was just off the main hall. Meredith reached for the doors, ignoring the nervous tremor that quaked through her, and pushed them open. Flipping the switch inside the door, she flooded the room with light. A quick glance around the room revealed that everything appeared as it should.

She stepped aside to let them enter. “Here we are.”

The living room was the former front parlor, a big, comfortable space made for people to gather together and socialize. When she and Adam had taken over Sutton Hall, one of her first missions had been to renovate this room, figuring it would be the place most of their guests would want to come together to relax and hang out. The sofas and tables were set in a variety of arrangements, some to accommodate big groups, some for private conversations. It was a room they were all familiar with, having gathered there after dinner, where she and Ellen had served them drinks. It was one reason she’d suggested the room, figuring they’d be more comfortable here than anywhere else, since it wasn’t a strange place.

But as the group began to filter in Meredith didn’t miss the way they glanced around the space uneasily, as though expecting someone to jump out at them at any moment. No one took a seat, all of them moving to the center and standing there restlessly.

Greg immediately zeroed in on the bar on one wall and headed straight for it.

“Don’t you think you had enough at dinner?” Scott asked.

“Clearly not, because I am way too sober for this,” Greg called back over his shoulder. “Anyone else want anything?”

“What the hell,” Alex muttered. “I can’t think of a better time for a drink. Scotch neat.”

“Coming right up,” Greg said.

Jessica wrapped her arms around herself. “Where’s the phone?”

“The closest one is in the study,” Meredith said. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll come with you,” Tom said. He’d stopped in the entryway beside her. She shot him a look in surprise. He stared back, his expression serious. “You probably shouldn’t be wandering around alone. At least not until we have a better idea what we’re dealing with.”

Her first instinct was to glance at the others. At the last second she managed to hold the impulse in check.

Wasn’t the killer someone in this room? It was what Meredith had assumed. Despite what Jessica had said, the killer was most likely someone who’d come here with Haley, someone who knew her.

That might be a dangerous assumption to make, but now that he’d raised the prospect, the idea of walking through the house alone didn’t hold much appeal.

Meredith nodded. “All right. Let’s make that call.”

* * *

THE STUDY WAS on the ground floor in the front tower of the west wing. Adam had converted it into his office when they’d taken over Sutton Hall. Meredith quickly made her way there, keeping an eye out around her at all times, fully aware of Tom following close behind.

As she stepped into the room, her gaze immediately went to the phone sitting on the desk at the other side. Mouthing a silent prayer, she crossed to the phone, picked up the receiver and raised it to her ear.

And heard nothing.

It took a second for the echoing silence to sink in. She waited, still expecting the sound of a dial tone to kick in, to hear something, anything.

Then reality hit her like a blow to the chest, panic rushing through her veins. “No, no, no...” With growing desperation she pressed on the switch hook several times, hoping the dial tone would finally kick in, praying there was only some kind of delay. She glanced at the base and where the cord disappeared into the wall, confirming everything was connected as it should be.

The receiver remained utterly, terrifyingly silent.

Dead.

When there was no way to deny it any longer, she slowly lowered the receiver and stood there, trying to process the situation. Behind her the windows shook under the force of the howling wind. The sound seemed to echo in the emptiness of the room, until she was surrounded by it on all sides.

“Nothing?” Tom asked softly.

He must have stopped in the doorway. His voice sounded very far away, making her feel more isolated. Like she was. Like they all were.

Meredith shook her head. “There must be a line down somewhere.”

“Do you have anything else? Maybe a radio of some kind?”

“No,” she had to admit. “The previous owner was pretty much a recluse, and probably never saw the need of trying to get in touch with the outside world if the phones went out. We talked about getting a satellite phone just in case we ever needed one, but never got around to it. We didn’t have any blizzards like this last winter and never lost phone service. And it’s only October. None of us expected a storm this bad so early....”

“We barely made it up the mountain to begin with, and that was seven hours ago,” Tom observed. “The storm’s gotten a lot worse since then. I can’t imagine there’s any way we’ll be able to get out.”

Meredith would have given anything to say he was wrong, but she couldn’t. “No,” she agreed. “We have a plow that can be attached to the front of a truck, but it can’t possibly be safe to use in these whiteout conditions. That’s even if we could get to the garage through the snow. And even though the weather never got this bad last winter, there were still a few times it took us a day to dig out. I have to think it’ll take at least a couple days to dig out from this—and that’s after the storm ends.”

They fell silent, the implications terrifying—and impossible to ignore.

“So we’re on our own then,” Tom said gently.

She nodded shortly, trying to fight the panic rising in her throat. “Yes.” On their own. Trapped. For days.

With a killer among them.