It was some sort of lumberyard, she inanely decided. Or warehouse.
Which explained why the place smelled like the inside of her mother’s hope chest. A musty cedar odor that was almost overwhelming.
Carmen frowned in confusion. Why would her kidnapper bring her to this place? And why was it empty?
Her confusion only deepened when a slender form appeared from behind one of the long racks and she caught sight of the man strolling toward her.
She easily recognized the thin face and pale blue eyes. Her heart skipped a beat, her mouth dry.
“Ronnie?” she breathed, feeling as if she was in a dream.
Or a nightmare.
A smug smile curled his lips. He was dressed in jeans and a chunky sweater that emphasized his wiry body. Not that Carmen was fooled. He could easily overpower her.
She laid her palms flat on the cement and pushed herself into a sitting position. She grimaced. It felt like her brain was sloshing around in her skull.
As if sensing she was incapable of rising to her feet, Ronnie squatted next to her. She caught the scent of smoke. As if he’d recently been standing next to a bonfire.
An unnerving chill spread through her body.
“Are you surprised?” Ronnie demanded.
She licked her dry lips. Surprised? Stupefied came closer to the truth.
Ronnie Hyde. The son of her family’s housekeeper. The strange, silent boy who was always sneaking around the house.
Was he mixed up in this madness? Was he one of the killers? It seemed impossible.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will,” he murmured, his words spoken as a promise. “In time.”
She scooted an inch backward. It wasn’t an attempt to escape. Just a need to put some space between her and the man who looked like her childhood friend, but had grown into a stranger. A dangerous stranger.
“Where am I?” she demanded, the words coming out as a croak.
“At a Jacobs warehouse.” His pale gaze swept over her, a muscle twitching at the base of his jaw. As if he was struggling to suppress an emotion that was so big it threatened to engulf him. “I thought it was an appropriate setting for our reunion. And it has the added benefit of being closed until after the New Year.”
Her brow furrowed. “This place belongs to my uncle?”
“Yes.” His smile twisted. “They managed to use your inheritance to expand the family business. I’m sure they won’t mind if we borrow it for a few hours.”
Fear was a tangible force as it clawed through her, threatening to paralyze her. With an effort, she forced herself to suck in a deep breath.
Panic wasn’t going to save her. She wasn’t sure anything could, but she intended to be prepared just in case.
“How did I get here?” she asked.
Ronnie shrugged. “I brought you, of course.”
“Why?”
He leaned closer, his breath sour as it brushed over her face.
“Because I wanted us to have some alone time.”
Alone time? She took more deep breaths, her gaze darting to the nearby racks in the hopes of catching sight of some sort of weapon. There was nothing. Predictable, of course. But she was suddenly struck by the empty silence that filled the vast space.
They were completely alone.
“Where’s Griff?” she harshly demanded.
Anger flared through the pale eyes. “He no longer matters.”
Carmen dug her nails into the cement, sheer horror overwhelming her fear. The thought that this man might have hurt Griff was unbearable.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. At least, not yet.” Ronnie shrugged, emphasizing his disinterest in Griff. “If he stays out of my way I don’t have any interest in him. If he tries to interfere then I’ll get rid of him.”
Carmen’s breath hissed between her teeth. Oh, thank God. Griff was safe. That’s all that mattered.
Then, without warning, an unexpected burst of hope exploded through her.
Griff was free. And by now Griff would have to have realized she was missing. Which meant he would be moving heaven and earth to find her.
All she had to do was stay alive long enough for him to work his magic. Right?
The thought was enough to stiffen her spine. At the same time, she subtly pointed and flexed her feet. She needed to get the circulation flowing through her stiff legs in case she needed to run.
“I still don’t know how I got here,” she said.
“Because I happen to be very clever,” he assured her. “I realized after I saw you at Christmas that I could use your relationship with Griffin Archer to my advantage.” He paused, then grimaced. “It interfered in my original timeline, but that couldn’t be helped.”
She studied his scarred face, considering his words. He clearly hadn’t expected her to travel to Louisville, but he’d been willing to use her arrival to his advantage. Just perfect.
“You sent the postcard,” she said.
“I arranged to have it delivered,” he corrected. “And then I traveled here to prepare for your arrival. Including a visit to your lover’s home to ensure I could bypass his security system.” He reached out to press his finger to a spot on the side of her neck. A small pain jolted through her. “I injected you with a little happy juice and I carried you out the balcony and through the garden. Simple as pie.”
She flinched in disgust at his touch. His fingers felt cold against her skin, clammy. Like a fish.
“Why would you kidnap me?” she rasped.
He frowned, annoyed by her reaction. “You know why.”
“No, I truly don’t understand,” she breathed.
He narrowed his gaze. “Maybe you don’t.” Without warning he grabbed her chin and roughly forced back her head. He studied her like she was a bug beneath a microscope. “You look so much like your mother.”
She tried to jerk away from him, only to gasp when he squeezed hard enough to send shooting pain through her jaw.
“So I’ve been told,” she managed to say.
He continued to study her. “But you have your father’s smile. Or should I say our father.”
She stilled, all thoughts of murder and mayhem forgotten as she met his gaze. The pale eyes shimmered with an inner emotion Ronnie could barely contain. Anticipation?
“What did you say?” she forced herself to ask.
“Our father,” he repeated.
“Our?”
“Stuart Jacobs was my father,” he said. “And you, sweet Carrie, are my sister.”
Ronnie sat back on his heels, watching the stunned emotions that rippled over her face with avid fascination. Carmen barely noticed. She was grappling with his outrageous claim.
Stuart Jacobs was the father of Ronnie Hyde?
She mentally repeated the words over and over, trying to let them sink into her brain.
They refused to penetrate.
Maybe she was being foolish. After all, her father had murdered her mother. He was obviously capable of any atrocity. Including denying the existence of his own child despite the fact he practically lived beneath his own roof.
But Carmen shook her head. Whatever her father’s faults, there’d never been a second when he hadn’t been devoted to her. There was no way he would have treated his child with such a cold disdain.
“That’s impossible,” she muttered.
Ronnie’s face settled into sullen lines. As if he was disappointed by her reaction.
“Of course the precious princess would assume it was impossible,” he sneered.
She flinched at the venom in his voice. Why hadn’t she seen the bitterness that stewed deep inside him?
“My father would never . . .” Her words trailed away as his fingers dug into her face with bruising force.
“What?” he snapped, an ugly flush crawling beneath his skin. “Have sex with a mere housekeeper?”
“He would never have denied his own son,” she said, blinking back the tears of pain. She didn’t know if Ronnie realized he was hurting her, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “Unless you’re claiming he didn’t know?”
Ronnie released his hold on her chin and surged upright. He stared down at her with a brooding expression.
“Let me tell you a story,” he said.