Trust Me (Sanctuary Lake Book 1) Read online

  A blush crept over her cheeks, but she stared straight into his eyes. "I want to buy it."

  He lifted his eyebrow at her declaration. He hadn't considered that Anna would want to stay here. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think you can afford it."

  The building wasn't worth much, but the land was a different story. The property was right along the water with a great view. It was a prime location, and resort properties were being snapped up all around the area. He expected they could get a good chunk of change from it. He'd been trying to talk Viv into selling for years.

  She'd been the sole benefactor when George and Edna died. No one had been surprised that they hadn't given a dime to any of the boys they'd adopted. But now Viv had bequeathed the place to Mason and his brothers… even Jake. Old George would be turning in his grave at that development. But what would any of them want with this place?

  Selling was the logical thing to do.

  "I've been talking to some investors. And, I suppose you should know, I also met with the bank today," she said in a rush. "At least let me know first before you put it up for sale. That's all I ask."

  So that's why she was showing off her sexy legs. Too bad. He'd hoped her skirt was for his benefit.

  Sister, his brain screamed silently.

  He nodded slightly. "I guess I can do that."

  "Good." She extended her hand to him. It seemed an oddly formal gesture for the situation.

  Her hand was small, dainty even, against his, but she took his with a firmness that would make his brother Aiden nod in approval.

  "Shall we go in?"

  He motioned for her to lead the way. As she walked to the gate, held closed with a shiny new chain and lock, her hips had a sweet little sway to them that he didn't think was intentional. The woman oozed an innate sensuality.

  "I locked it when I left, because…" She shrugged. "I guess I didn't want someone breaking in to steal something of Viv's."

  The pages she'd given him had obviously spooked her. He didn't point out that the perimeter fence was easily jumped—he'd hopped it more times than he could count when he'd lived here—or that there were at least a dozen other ways to access the property.

  She opened the padlock with the key she was holding, then she tugged on the thick chain that secured the gates. Her petite fingers were smaller than the links. Although she was the kind of person to deal with anything life threw at her, including big cumbersome chains, the least he could do was make sure she didn't get one of her tiny fingers caught in it.

  "Here," he said, "let me."

  She raised her eyebrows as if saying she had it under control, but stepped back nonetheless. He yanked the chain free. When he pushed the gate, its hinges screamed.

  He held the gate open for her. She smiled at him as she walked onto the property that had been the source of so many of his and his brothers' nightmares. The place was a derelict version of everything he remembered. The faint humidity on the air, the towering elms around the perimeter… and the old inn squatting like a troll on the small hill.

  "As you can see," she said as they strolled up the driveway toward the inn, "we've been trying to keep up maintenance but everything seems to be needing attention at the same time. It needs a little TLC."

  "A little?"

  The grass was freshly mown, which was at odds with the decay showing everywhere else. Weeds choked the gravel driveway that lead to the once austere and regal looking establishment. Even from the road, it had been easy to see that the inn had lost its grandeur. The place was a sorry sight. Patches of pale yellow paint had peeled away long ago, revealing gray weathered wood. It looked like the skin was cracking away to expose the bones beneath. Lord knew this place had enough skeletons in the closets that they could burst through the prim exterior.

  "Your parents—"

  "They weren't my parents."

  "I'm sorry. Viv always called them that..."

  He decided to take pity on her. "It's fine."

  "Well, they did some upgrades in the Eighties that weren't to code. We've been trying to fix those problems as we find them, which means we have been dipping into the general maintenance budget."

  They climbed the three wide steps that led to the covered porch along the front of the building. The wood was soft under their feet. The whole structure would need to be replaced.

  "Watch your step," he said. "The wood is rotten."

  She frowned and looked down. Her shoulders sagged as if she just realized the extent of the problem. She picked her way to the door with care, following the line of nails which suggested there was a joist to offer extra support. When she arrived at the door, she pulled the keyring from her pocket. She paused with the key poised in front of the lock.

  "Oh," she murmured.

  He peered over her shoulder. Someone had carved a lewd caricature into the oak door with the words "You are mine" beneath it.

  "That wasn't here the last time I came this way. I usually go through the back, to the apartment." She shivered slightly. If he hadn't been standing directly behind her, he might have missed it. Then she braced her shoulders and shoved the key into the lock.

  "Has graffiti been a problem?" Or, he wondered, was Viv's stalker still here?

  "There have been a few incidents." She shrugged as they walked into the foyer. "The local kids say the place is haunted, so of course they dare one another to come out here. It is worse in the summer when the holiday folk come to town."

  He nodded, but she didn't notice.

  "It's because of George's murder—" She stopped mid-sentence and put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of that."

  "I would expect nothing different from the kids. I was a teenager once. I remember what it was like." Then Mason eyed her. "And, please, don't censor yourself because of me. Believe me, I've heard a lot worse. That's what happens when your eldest brother is sent to jail for murdering the bastard who adopted you."

  THREE

  Anna shoved the key in her pocket so Mason wouldn't see her hand shaking. Damn it. She'd been doing so well too. Well, right up to the point where she'd grabbed her foot and rammed it into her mouth.

  Between Viv's scribbles, Mr. Gorgeous and that stupid message on the door, she was more distracted than she'd like to admit, and then she'd just started talking… without her brain engaged.

  She inhaled and exhaled slowly to calm her nerves.

  She and Viv had always talked candidly about her parents' deaths. She'd forgotten that the brothers preferred to avoid the subject. She should have stuck to more relevant topics, like the inn or his sister. That's why he was there, right?

  She owed it to Viv to discover the truth of what she'd written in those pages.

  And they needed to talk about the inn too. It was too big a topic to ignore, and this place couldn't stay closed indefinitely. The Randall brothers didn't want this inn, and she did. She had to find a way to get it.

  She'd only just made the appointment at the bank a few days ago and word had already gotten around. She had received calls from three potential investors. Seth Golder had called first. She wasn't sure she wanted to get into business with him. He didn't seem very savvy and she wasn't sure how much capital he actually had. Rumor had it that the money was his mother's, but he had approached her, so she wouldn't dismiss him without learning more. Then there was Harry Miller. The problem with him was that he was Viv's ex, and although they'd been on an amicable footing, he didn't particularly like the Randalls. And now that Viv was out of the picture, the dynamic could change. He might try to run the property into the ground just to spite them. There was something about him, too, that didn't sit quite right. She couldn't put her finger on it… she just got a weird vibe when he was around. And then there was Oren Patterson. He was her safest bet. She was sure he'd stand back and let her do her thing.

  But the best option would be if she could swing it on her own.

  In preparation for the meeting with the ban
k, she'd worked out a preliminary business plan. It'd given her something to do after Viv's death. She'd shown it to the banker this morning. They hadn't responded to her request yet, but maybe she should meet with each of her potential partners to see what they thought too. She'd considered showing it to Mason, but when she flipped through it in the truck, it didn't feel ready. Not for him. The big businessman from Calgary.

  She had hoped the plan would be further along by today, but it'd been hard to concentrate on anything after she found those pieces of paper in Viv's jewelry box. And now there were ominous words scratched on the door.

  You are mine.

  The phrase rang through her head again. Was that from the stalker? Why leave a message like that now? Viv was gone.

  She swallowed.

  There was something familiar about those words…

  Then she remembered. They matched the subject line of an e-mail she'd relegated to her junk mail folder that morning. She'd been checking the inn's account, trying to appease all the disappointed people who'd wanted to book. One couple even begged her for a room for just one night. They'd become engaged at the inn and they wanted to spend their wedding night there too. It broke her heart to say no, but she didn't have any answers to give them, and that was the hardest part. Would the inn even be standing in a few months? If she wasn't successful in buying it, a developer would likely flatten the place and put up a new, bigger, more modern facility.

  But that message, just from the subject line, hadn't seemed legit, so she'd dragged it to the trash without opening it. Not many messages got past her spam filter, but it happened from time to time. It was just a coincidence. That was all.

  What if it wasn't?

  She shuddered at the idea of it.

  And if Viv had been murdered, that meant there were two deaths connected with the inn… That could hurt her business plan and investor interest. Who would want to stay in a place where two people had been killed?

  God. How could she think about Viv's death so clinically?

  "Anna?" Mason touched her shoulder and she jumped. His eyes were soft with concern. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine." She forced a smile to her face. "Let's talk in here."

  She motioned to the chairs in the seating area to the left. She could have invited him back to the apartment that she'd shared with Viv, but those little rooms were so small… so close… so full of Viv. For this conversation, she needed air to breathe and some place that wasn't quite so plastered with personal memories.

  At least the foyer and front desk area with the span of large-paned windows looking toward the lake was airy. As she walked through the room, so many little things caught her eye. So many things to do. Starting with the dust. The inn had only been closed a week, but a thin sheen had accumulated on the tables between the Queen Anne chairs.

  What would it look like to Mason?

  He hadn't been to the inn for ages. Did it look okay to him? She should have at least dusted before he arrived. Her gaze drifted up to the original chandeliers that still hung in the front room, a hallmark of the era when the inn was constructed. The largest one crowned the entrance, and the other graced the seating area. They were both coated in dust and cobwebs. She winced at the sight. That mess had been gathering for more than a week.

  When was the last time they'd dusted them?

  Still, even now, they were her favorite feature of the inn. The shape and grace of the fixtures and their crystals bespoke elegance. An elegance, truth be told, that never fit with Viv. She was a very practical, no-nonsense sort of woman. But even she had loved those chandeliers.

  Mason waited for her to select a seat, then he chose a chair across from her. His gaze settled on hers and she fought the urge to look away. He was always so damned intense.

  "Well? What do you think?"

  He withdrew the pages she'd given him the day before from an interior pocket in his jacket. He unfolded them and set them on the dusty table between them.

  "I think you are right," he said with a scowl. "Did she tell you about her fears?"

  Anna frowned. "I knew something was bothering her recently, but I thought she was just worrying about the bills. A few weeks ago we got a quote to upgrade the wiring on the second floor and we weren't sure how to swing it…"

  He frowned. "Why didn't you tell me about the problems the inn was having?"

  "It wasn't my place."

  "Did you talk about it with Viv?"

  "Sure, but…" She shrugged. "Viv didn't want to sell. She said that was all you'd recommend."

  Mason closed his eyes. A tick on the side of his jaw throbbed steadily. "She should have sold years ago."

  "This was her life," Anna said. "She loved it here."

  "And this stalker?"

  "I don't know anything more than what is written there." She motioned to the pages. Viv's bold scrawl was clear and precise on the white paper.

  "She says her tire was slashed, that she was being followed, that someone had been outside her window… You didn't know about any of that?"

  Guilt pricked at her heart. "There was a problem with her tire, yes. I thought a teenager was just making mischief. I know she started driving on different routes to get to town, not that there are many roads to choose from, but she didn't drive the same way more than twice in a row. I teased her about it, but she didn't say why she was doing it. I thought she was just trying to add a little variety to her life. And… as for someone watching her…" Anna shuddered. "She put up new blinds and curtains in the apartment. I thought she'd just wanted to freshen things up…" She stared at her hands. "I should have asked more questions. I should have known something was wrong… If I had, maybe she'd still be alive."

  She covered her face with her hands. Oh, God. How could she have missed all of that?

  She heard a creak on the floor an instant before Mason's warm hands closed over her shoulders. He drew her forward until her face was pressed against his big, solid chest, then he wrapped his arms around her.

  Grief and guilt swelled inside her and she couldn't stop any of it.

  He comforted her as she cried and let her emotions consume her… knowing that he would hold her as long as she needed. As much as he was a bit of an arrogant ass at times, he was ever the protector. Viv had described all her brothers that way… but especially Mason. That's why he'd taken the brunt of so many of George's beatings.

  Anna had turned to him.

  His lips brushed the top of her head as his hands stroked her back.

  "Hush," he whispered. "I'm here."

  She pressed tighter to him.

  "Viv was always too independent… she wouldn't have wanted you to worry," he said. "There was nothing you could do."

  Anna inhaled deeply, an attempt to regain control of herself. His scent filled her. The cologne he wore was there, but under that was something that was distinctly Mason: an enticing aroma that reminded her of the woods on a hot summer day. She turned to the scent until her face pressed against the side of his neck.

  The steady rhythm of his heartbeat throbbed against her forehead.

  She could remain like this, in his arms, forever.

  Except this was Mason.

  And Mason wasn't for her.

  She pulled back from his embrace and wiped away the tears that were still lingering on her eyelashes. He brushed a finger over the side of her flushed cheek.

  "I'm going to stay," he said. "We're going to find out what happened to Viv."

  FOUR

  Mason would get to the bottom of this. Once he set his mind on a task, there was very little he couldn't accomplish. He only wished it hadn't taken Viv's death to get him here.

  At the confirmation of his promise, Anna's body visibly relaxed. It was as if until this moment she'd been holding herself together, coiled and tense, waiting for him to tell her whether or not she was crazy.

  "I know you were at Hearts last night," she said, "but I want you to know you can stay here. If you want."

&nbs
p; His nephew Chris's place was Hearts and Diamonds, the local pub that everyone called Hearts, and it had a few rooms. That was where he, Drew and Grady had passed out last night. But Anna was right, no one would choose to stay more than one night there. The mattress he'd slept on had more lumps than Viv's gravy used to. It'd worked out though; they'd barely been able to crawl to bed by the time Chris shut off the lights and kicked them upstairs.

  He could call his brother Aiden.

  No, that idea sucked. Aiden liked his privacy and half the time he was babysitting his granddaughter Cassy. Mason loved his great-niece… from a distance… but he wasn't sure he could do a kid for a long stretch. Especially a little one.

  Maybe rent a house? There were enough rental properties around Sanctuary Lake. It was a vacationer's dream. But how long would he need to rent? How long would it take to find Viv's stalker?

  He had no idea.

  His personal assistant Jay was going to have a fit about this. Jay liked precision, particularly in schedules.

  Staying here was the most sensible thing to do. Except that Anna was here. So it was also the stupidest thing he could do.

  "I'll take one of the rooms in the inn. But don't treat me like a guest. I'm family," he said. And if he said that enough it might be true someday.

  She shook her head. "Oh, God, no. Stay at the apartment. Viv would hate it if you were in the inn… I mean if you want. We have a spare room…"

  Her forehead wrinkled and she rubbed it.

  "I mean, there is space in the apartment. I don't even know what I'm saying right now. I've lived here for so long it is like home, but it's not the same without Viv. And I guess it isn't my home anymore, is it? Not if you sell to someone else. Or maybe one of you will decide to live here. I should…"

  He reached forward to touch her… and put his hand on her bare knee. Her skirt had crept up her thigh when she'd sat. He hadn't noticed how much of her leg was exposed until this exact moment when his fingers slid along her skin. She stilled at his touch.