Page 47 of Final Cost

“Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve been walking around with it since you came back to Ackerley. I was always going ask you. It was only a matter of time.”

And he opens the box with a tiny creak, revealing an emerald cut diamond with baguettes that look so perfectly clear, it’s like a spectacular ice cube. “It was my mother’s,” he says softly.

I press a hand to my heart, undone. You can’t tell me that he didn’t steal that thing from Mariah Carey’s safe. “I can’t wear a ring likethat,” I say. “It’s too much for me.”

“When you’re wrong, you’re wrong, Ms. Scott. It’s nowhere near good enough for you. Sayyes.”

I open my mouth, filled with sudden sweeping joy. I see it all in that moment. Life here at Ackerley with Lucien. Holidays. Travel. Horseback riding. Endless fun. Kids. I feel the sweetest ache in my heart at the thought of Lucien’s kids. But there are also shadows across my heart and Ravenna’s sly voice inside my head.Don’t trust yourself. Your instincts are bad when it comes to him. He will never change. You can’t trust him. He will hurt you in the end.And I know I’ve forgiven him, but I can’t help but remember how brutally and unexpectedly he dumped me. I never saw it coming and never knew what hit me. I open my mouth, wanting to sayyes. But nothing comes out and the excruciating silence goes on forever.

That’s more than enough answer.

Lucien looks stricken as he slowly lowers the ring box. That’s when his phone buzzes. But we’re both locked in on each other, frozen. All through the first buzz…the second buzz…the third…

He finally blinks, snaps out of it, checks the display, curses and hits the button. “What is it, Gray?”

Oh, God. His lawyer. I sit up straighter, praying it’s good news?—

“Got it.” Lucien listens, his face turning to stone and losing all its color. Then he tosses the phone aside without another word, his gaze flicking back to me. He opens his mouth, but it’s operating on a lengthy delay. He clearly doesn’t want to tell me what’s happened any more than I want to hear it. “The police are on their way to arrest me for Ravenna’s murder.”

19

Tamsyn

“I just don’t seewhy you can’t come back here and stay with me, honey,” Mrs. Hooper says in my ear the following afternoon. For roughly the fourth time since this conversation began. “You’re always welcome. Don’t forget, I promised Lucien I’d always look out for you. Although I’m not sure a promise to someone in jail for murder carries the same weight, to be honest.”

I repress a sigh, forcing myself to loosen my grip on my phone. I’m in the solarium, staring out at the driving rain as it hits the bay’s roiling waters outside. With the unseasonable chill and the crypt like gray skies above, the weather perfectly matches my mood: they’re both shit.

Honestly, I’m not sure why I don’t take Mrs. Hooper up on her offer. Today is the staff’s regular day off, which means that the house is like a library after closing. The long morning has turned into an endless afternoon while I wait for news from Lucien’s arraignment. Daniel went to pick him up from the courthouse out of an abundance of optimism. I just pray he doesn’t have to spend another night in jail, but he’s at the mercy of when the judge holds these hearings. Still, Lucien’s lawyer remains confident, so that’s a good sign. But I’ve spent the last several hours with a tight throat and chest, feeling like I won’t breathe again until Lucien comes back to Ackerley.

“Tamsyn? You still with me?” Mrs. Hooper says.

“I’m still with you.” I force myself to infuse my voice with what I hope is enough energy to allay her fears. “And there’s no point in me coming back to you when you have the paparazzi back because of Lucien’s arrest, right?”

“Well, you’ve got me there,” she says. “This would almost be a great adventure to brag about to my friends. If this weren’t so serious.Murder. I couldn’t believe it when I saw his mug shot on the news last night. I just don’t want to believe it of him, honey.”

I wince at the memory of said mug shot of Lucien glowering at the camera. Haughty. Proud. Humiliated, even if I’m the only one who can see it. As for what happened to his company’s stock once the news broke, I don’t want to think about it. I just want him back home with me. “But…?”

Mrs. Hooper hesitates. “None of this looks good for him. And I’m worried for you.”

Like I need a reminder. I suddenly find myself all out of energy to continue this conversation. “Lucien didn’t do it. And he’s got the money for the best lawyers in the world, so I have faith that he’ll be proved innocent. One way or the other. You should, too.”

“Honey, I didn’t mean —”

“Gotta go, Mrs. Hooper. Lucien should be home soon. Hopefully. I’ll stay in touch. Bye.”

She starts to sputter a protest, but I hang up before she can get it out. Then I find myself alone with my racing thoughts, gloomy weather and the echoing emptiness inside the house. If ever there was a time or reason to have a pet, this is it. I could use a dog or cat to keep me company right now. Hell, I’d even take a visit from Juniper, Mrs. Hooper’s annoying Yorkie. Anything to reassure me that I’m not the last living creature on earth.

But it’s just me here right now. Even Roman is gone today, off in the city for some urgent company meeting to reassure the panicked investors. So I’d better do something to pass the time before I crawl out of my skin. I scan through my options. A snack is out because I’m not hungry and I doubt I could keep it down anyway. But a cup of tea might be nice. Tea always cheers people up.

Great. I have a plan.

I get up and make the long trek back to the foyer on my way to the kitchen. But as soon as I hit the base of the curved staircase, all the fine hairs on the nape of my neck begin to prickle. I don’t know what it is, but the air feels chilly and something’s not right. I stop and look around, my heart now thumping hard in my chest. It thumps harder when I catch a whiff of that oriental scent lingering in the air. Not Ravenna’s scent, I remind myself, my skin crawling now. She’s not here. She’ll never be here again. If anything, I need to check for earthly human threats. Not ghostly ones. So I take a deep breath and look around. Nothing seems out of place at first glance. I ease down with a relieved sigh, telling myself that the unrelenting gloom is playing tricks on me. A smarter person would click on a few lamps and be done with it?—

Hang on. There are drops of water all over the floor in front of the front door, as though someone has crept in and brought the rain with them. And that’s when I notice it: the waft of fresh air that smells of rain, cut grass and mud. The kind of scent that doesn’t belonginsidethe house.

Unless someone just came in.

Oh, shit.

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