Especially the woman emerging pale and sleep-tousled out of the bathroom. She looked at Blain and walked straight toward him, wearing a dark red zipped jacket and matching pants that his mother would call lounge wear.
He called it nice-looking wear right now but he kept his mind focused on the task and not the way that combo fit Rikki. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yes.” She glanced around, not looking so okay. “Did you find anyone out there?”
“Not yet. My men are searching every nook. We’ll double-check the area around your door, but I’m guessing whoever found you knew to wear gloves and not leave any clues.”
She nodded and pushed at all that tumbling hair. “Now we know, Detective.”
“Know what?” He didn’t like the gleam of acceptance in her eyes.
“That they were after me.”
“Yes, I believe you’re right on that,” Blain replied. “But they could have been after both of you.” At the look of horror on her face, he said, “Listen, you’re gonna have to tell me where your mother lives. You can’t stay here alone.”
“I can’t have them in her house, either.”
“But you’ll be with someone and...I’ll make sure no one bothers either of you.”
“And what are you, a one-man type of superhero?”
“No, but I think I can patrol a home and keep intruders out.”
“He’s a former marine, ma’am,” a passing officer said in a matter-of-fact tone. “He can take care of you.”
She quirked a dark eyebrow and took a calming breath. “A marine? So that should make me feel safe, I suppose.”
“One of the best,” the young patrolman said before Blain could reply. “An MP at that. Only, he don’t like to brag.”
Blain shook his head. “Look, I can watch over you tonight.”
She stared at him with a new regard, her dark gaze sweeping over him and making him squirm. “I don’t want to go to my mother’s house.”
Blain took her by the arm and tugged her off to the side where no one could hear him. “Your place isn’t safe. This hotel isn’t safe even though we had a uniformed patrol on site. I can’t take you to my place. Unless you have somewhere you can go that you can assure me is okay, then you’d better tell me the truth, Miss Allen. All of it. Or I’ll have to take you to the station and put you in a cell just to make sure you are safe until morning.”
“I don’t know the truth,” she said, her voice weakening. “I’ve told you everything I can.” Then she shook her head. “I keep thinking of Chad—my ex. But he couldn’t be this stupid. He’s threatened me but...I can’t believe he’d do this. He has too much at stake.”
Blain held his lips tightly together to keep from shouting at her. “And it never occurred to you to give me these details when you mentioned him earlier?”
“I didn’t think he’d find me at the town house. I never told him that my family—that I own it.”
“Well, maybe he followed you and...tried to kill you.” Blain pulled out his notebook. “What’s his address?”
She hesitated and then gave him Chad’s workplace and home addresses.
“And when did you last see Chad Presley?”
“About a week ago, down in Miami.”
Blain got a description of Chad and his vehicle and put out a BOLO over the radio that would go statewide. Be On the Lookout for a possible killer.
“There. We’ll see what that turns up. Does this Chad know where your mother lives?”
She thought about last spring when she’d brought him here for a wedding. That hadn’t gone over very well.
“He’s been here before but only once.”
“Okay, then, let’s go. Either you tell me where to take you or...you can spend the night in jail.”
“You can’t do that—force me into jail.”
“I can if it’s for your own good.”
He didn’t like playing bad cop with her, but the woman was too stubborn to see that someone was after her. And a nasty ex-boyfriend would be a prime suspect. Surely she wasn’t one of those women who kept forgiving over and over until it was too late.
Blain would find out everything about her before this was over, but right now he wanted to get her out of here. They were too exposed at this location now.
She finally nodded. “I need to get my things.”
After he escorted her to her room, he put her in his car and turned to stare at her. “Where to, princess?”
She swallowed, dropped her head and stared at her hands in her lap. “The Bay Road.”
Bay Road? Blain whistled. Real estate out there was way over his pay-scale. “Okay, then.”
Pricey estates out there. A scenic highway surrounding where the big bay met up with Millbrook Lake.
When they were underway and out past the city, he turned off and followed the dark water. “Which address?”
She finally looked over at him, a solid defiance in her voice. “2200 First Bay Lane.”
Blain blinked, thinking he hadn’t heard right. “Hey, that’s—”
“The Alvanetti estate,” she finished for him. “Sonia Alvanetti is my mother.”
Blain held tightly to the steering wheel as realization settled around him. “And...Franco Alvanetti is your father.”
“Yes.” She nodded and looked out the window.
And suddenly, Blain understood so much more about what was going on with Rikki Allen. No wonder she’d been so closemouthed and evasive. No wonder he couldn’t trust her.
She was an Alvanetti.
Old Florida.
A wrought-iron gate swung open after Rikki gave him a security code to punch in on the big electronic switch pad.
Blain eased the unmarked police sedan along the winding lane and took in his surroundings as the first rays of the sun shone like a spotlight through the trees.
Swaying palm trees and palmetto bushes, massive live oaks dripping with Spanish moss. Scattered orange and lemon trees that would be lush with fruit come next summer. Winter-white camellias blooming on deeply rooted bushes. Wild magnolia trees shooting up through the oaks, their fat, waxy leaves hanging heavy and dark green along the winding garden paths on either side of the private gravel-and-shell-covered drive.
And what looked like a big white barn and stables surrounded by a white board fence off in the distance.
The wild abandonment of this tropical landscape didn’t fool Blain. This kind of exotic display spoke of money as old as the camellia bushes. Dirty money.
The sparkling sunrise brought the light of dawn peeking through the heavy foliage like a diamond hidden in the forest. And then, the stark stucco mansion came into view, all creamy planes and angles and glass against rich brown teakwood trim aged with a shimmering patina that shone in the early morning light.
Blain pulled the sedan up to the six-car garage and turned off the engine. Still in shock, he pivoted in his seat toward Rikki. “Why did you