Chapter 24
Waiting was agony. And sleep was impossible.
Genevieve paced the floors while visions of what Mai might be going through filled her mind, growing worse as the minutes passed. What if they never found her? They said the first forty-eight hours were the most important in solving a crime, and if they didn’t find her within that time, what then?
As the hands of the clock crept closer to dawn, anxiety gnawed at her, tightening the muscles across her neck and shoulders until they ached.
A sound much like snapping sheets alerted her to Finn’s return. She rushed to the breezeway door and down the patio steps just as he landed on the lawn.
She threw herself against him with a grateful embrace. “I’ve been worried. You’ve been gone all night, and it’s almost dawn.”
He held her away to look into her face. “I found her on one of the houseboats on the lake. She is alive, but she is badly hurt.”
Quick tears rushed down her cheeks. “But she’s alive.”
“Aye.”
The sleeves of her T-shirt were smeared when he dropped his hands, and for the first time she realized he was bleeding. She grasped his hands and turned them palm up. They were scraped and raw.
“’Tis from towing the houseboat to shore.”
She rushed to the cabinet where she’d stored the supplies he used that first night and returned with the peroxide and cotton balls.
“They will heal when I change to stone, Genevieve.”
Maybe not. “This will soothe them until they’re healed.” It helped her to care for him in some way. There seemed so little she could do for him, or for Mai.
He saved a woman’s life tonight.
Though his comments were vague, undoubtedly an attempt to shield her, from Finn’s description it was clear that Mai had been taken, imprisoned on the houseboat, drugged, and raped. Braxton Myers and Henry Sutton called the police and told them they found the houseboat drifting and the door broken open.
It was easier for the community to accept that local men discovered Mai, rather than a mystical creature.
In fact, Genevieve marveled at how surprisingly easy it was for her to accept that Henry and Braxton were wolves at night and men during the day. Why not? She was already living with the impossible.
She had to know more. “How did Mai seem?”
“She would not awaken. There was a tube running to her arm, which Henry said was meant to make her sleep.”
“Was she beaten?”
“I saw no bruises or wounds, but there was—blood. ’Twas the blood I smelled first.”
She bit her lip, her eyes burning. Mai’s life would be forever changed by this. She shook her head and closed her eyes against the images that flashed through her mind of what Mai might have endured.
Finn wrapped an arm around her waist and held her against him. She leaned into him, grateful for his comfort.
“She’s never had a boyfriend. She said she wanted to wait until her parents were here in this country. She said she didn’t have time for one. I don’t think she’d ever been with a man.” She curled her arms up over his back and buried her face against his shoulder. “That seems somehow even more tragic and disgusting.” Tears slid down her cheeks.
Finn stroked her hair. “She will be whole again, but ’twill take time.”
His fingers caressed the nape of her neck, and she relaxed against him.
“How did women of your time deal with this?” she asked after she calmed a little.
“If they went before the laird, the man would have to pay for the harm he had done her with coin or property. Sometimes the man was forced to wed her. More oft her athair or bhràithrean exacted justice.”
Genevieve shuddered. “Marriage to your rapist would be the worst kind of hell. How could they do that to her?”
“It was a different time, lass. A woman was looked at as her athair’s property then. He could demand recompense for her maidenhead through marriage or property or both.”
“Dear God. It would be more just if the man was tied down and she was allowed to exact her revenge with a belt and blade.”
“Aye, ’twould, to be sure. I canna understand why any man would have need to tie a woman down and treat her with such violence. I wanted very much to set the lass free, but feared I would frighten her if she awoke.”
She leaned back to look up at him. “You did the right thing. Did you wipe the door handle clean of prints?” she asked.
“Nay. Braxton did, and the ladder as well. Is it true they can search for the villain using the markings from the pads of his fingers?”
“Yes.” She studied the loops, arches and whorls on his fingertips. They looked so human. He still looked like the beast, but a change had occurred. She reached up and brushed the shaggy hair from his forehead. Your hair’s growing. Has it grown before?”
“Nay, it has stayed the same since… I canna remember.”
“It’s longer now.” She looped it back behind his ear. Was the tip less pointed than usual? But when he changed from flesh to stone, there was no change in the sculpture.
“How can ye look at me as I am and want to touch me in any way?”
His gravelly voice sounded husky.
The intense longing in his sky blue eyes crashed right through her defenses, triggering a dropping sensation in the pit of her stomach, and a tingling heat between her thighs.
How could she feel this way after learning about Mai?
Because he had nothing to do with her assault, and everything to do with her rescue.
“If your face had been disfigured in battle, would the women of your time have refused to touch you, Finn?”
“I wasna disfigured, lass. But as I am now, none would have ever allowed me near. If they had, they would have been damned by the church. I am a beast, not a man.”
“You are both, Finn. You have a man’s reason. You have great tenderness in you. I’ve seen it in the way you handle Butterbean, and in the way you treat me. You showed understanding and sympathy in the way you handled the situation with Mai. When are you going to stop blaming yourself for what was done to you?”
He shook his head. “If I have paid enough, why has the curse not lifted?”
“Maybe part of breaking it is learning to forgive yourself.”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “I believe ’tis ye who are responsible for the changes I am going through, Genevieve. Ye see me as more than I am. Perhaps more than I have ever been.”
“You saved a young woman’s life tonight, Finn. If the man who kidnapped her and hurt her had returned first, he would have continued to hurt her. More than likely, he would have eventually killed her and dumped her body in the lake. You can’t ever bring back Isabel, but saving Mai has to count for something, doesn’t it?”
“I hope it does.” He looked toward the horizon. It was growing lighter. “The cuffs she was tied down with were leather. They were stained and worn, and, I have no doubt, well-used.”
“So she may not be the only woman he’s done this to.”
“Aye.” His hands worked up and down her back in soothing strokes. “I dinna wish ye to go anywhere alone, Genevieve. You must take care.”
“I will.”
“Should ye go anywhere at night, I can follow and protect ye.”
She was often alone wherever she went. “I seldom go anywhere at night, Finn. But if I do, you’re welcome to follow me.”
He nodded. His looked again at the horizon. “I canna protect ye during the day. Ye must be careful.”
“I will be. I promise.”
“The day is coming.” His hands tightened on her arms as though he sought to delay the moment when he would be trapped again in the stone.
Dawn tinged the sky with a pale shade of blue-gray. He caught his breath but didn’t move toward the block. His muscles bunched as he fought against the call.
The sun rose over the mountains, and for a moment, the light struck Finn’s face. His pupils contracted, and his eyes looked silver-gray with the change. He looked down at her, and for a split second, his features seemed to shift from the brutish grotesque to the man.
There were subtle differences, but her drawings were very close. His wings were no longer there, and for an instant he was wholly human. She lifted her hands to cup his face, but he was torn from her in a rush, one second there, and the next he was once again the frozen stone creature crouching on the block.
The black sweatpants lay at her feet in rags. Genevieve swallowed a cry of frustration and pain. Voicing it would only steal his hope.
But she had felt the strength of the magic while it yanked him toward the base. Turning water to a mirror would be a parlor trick in comparison. Juliet and Miranda needed to feel it for themselves.
* * *
Why wasn’t she sleeping? Simon watched Genevieve bring the cat in and go straight to her room. She set the cat at the foot of the bed then climbed under the covers. She had been up nearly all night, as he had been, watching her go from window to window, looking out as though waiting for something. And now she was finally going to sleep when she normally would be getting up.
Something was wrong. Something was upsetting her. But what? He needed to go out today and find out. She might talk to him about what was keeping her awake, and why she kept having that odd group of women at her house at all hours. If he could figure out a way to ask. The women had been all over the studio the other night while he’d been occupied with Genevieve’s protégé, Mai. Watching it on the recorded video, it seemed to him their presence at her house was odd. They seemed to be having some kind of meeting.
It was Juliet and Miranda Templeton’s fault. They were getting Genevieve involved in something. Well, he’d put a stop to that soon enough. Genevieve would soon have no time for anyone but him and her work.
He had never known her to sleep during the day. Never. But he’d have to give her some time to rest before going out to check on her. He turned the camera app off and wandered into the gallery.
Keith stood at the door, looking out onto Main Street. He turned to speak over his shoulder. “Genevieve’s framed drawings arrived, and I unboxed them and hung them in the green room. They’re stunning.”
“Good. I’ll go look at them before I call the clients who bought them.”
“The young girl in them…She’s quite extraordinary.”
“I thought so too.” He hardened just thinking about Mai as he wandered through the many rooms to the area they called the green room to stare and gloat over the two hung drawings. Framed in sleek black frames, the deep red mats were a brilliant choice to display the charcoal sketches.
He shoved his hands into his pockets so he could caress the aching length of his erection while he looked at them. Pity he’d have to wait until dark before going back out to the houseboat to see her.
At least the medication he’d given her would keep her asleep for at least eight hours.
He’d been a little wary about giving it to her, but he couldn’t leave her unattended without putting a gag on her, and after her close call, he didn’t want to cover her mouth. Keeping her sedated was his only option. She’d be fine until he returned, and if she wasn’t…it would be a pity, but he’d weight the body and dispose of it in a nearby cove. She’d never be found, and if she was, the water would have destroyed any evidence.
“What do you think?” Keith asked.
“I think your assessment was correct. They’re gorgeous.”
Keith studied him, and Simon smoothed out his expression. “Have you met the real model?”
The lie came easily. “No. But I’d like to.”
“I would too.”
Simon’s brows rose. “I didn’t think women were your thing.”
Keith’s jaw tightened. “I can appreciate beauty wherever I find it, Simon. Speaking of which, I wonder why Genevieve never does self-portraits? She’s certainly beautiful enough.”
He turned his attention back to the drawings “I believe it’s because she’s more aware of other people than she is herself.”
“I believe she’s empathic.”
Simon looked a question at him.
“She can sense other people’s emotions.”
Simon had never thought of that. Could she? A shiver worked its way up his spine. “Why don’t you ask her next time she comes in?”
“I think I will, but I believe she is. Look at the emotion on the girl’s face. It’s as though she’s looking through a barrier toward the future.”
If she was, she’d never see it. He’d see to it. He couldn’t take the chance that she might offer evidence against him. Even if she hadn’t seen him, she heard his voice and felt his body. Better safe than sorry.
“Are you going to call Genevieve to come into town and see these?”
“Not quite yet. She called earlier and said she hadn’t slept well. I thought I’d give her some time to rest, then call her.”
“She’s going to regret selling these. She always does. It’s like she’s giving up her baby.”
Simon laughed. “I told her the same thing.”
Keith went back to the showroom, and Simon returned to his office to call some other artists whose work was popular, but not as lucrative as Genevieve’s. Around three he called and invited her to come in and view the drawings.
When she wandered in around four, dark circles discolored the skin under her eyes, and she looked tired. She stood in front of the drawings and gazed at them with open regret. “I want to pull them, Simon.”
For several moments he seemed unable to respond. “They’ve already been paid for, Genevieve.”
“I don’t feel right about selling them.”
“Why not?”
“Didn’t you hear about the girl found in a houseboat on the lake? The one who was missing? It seems the boat broke free of its mooring and drifted into one of the docks. Some fishermen found her tied up inside, assaulted and drugged.”
Panic like an electric shock raced through Simon’s entire body. “When did this happen?”
“She went missing on Tuesday night, but was found very early this morning, about five o’clock.”
“Shit!” Simon murmured. He’d discarded the condoms down the toilet, and scrubbed the wastebasket and changed the sheets. Once she had succumbed to the drugs, he even bathed her to remove any DNA. But what about fingerprints? He hadn’t wiped down the room yet. Fuck!
“I called her roommate, Silvia. She’s just now come out of the drug-induced sleep and is being questioned by the police.”
“How is she?”
“There are signs of strangulation and other injures. They think she’ll heal physically. Emotionally she’s bound to be very fragile.”
The effort to contain her reaction to Mai’s injuries flushed her features with color and her eyes narrowed with rage. “The girl was Mai, my model. Because of her experience, selling nude drawings of her would be in extremely poor taste. And if they catch the man who raped and tortured her, and this goes to trial…the monster’s defense will bring this up and make a big deal out of it. I’m not about to do anything that will make this more difficult for her than it already is or will be.”
Monster? Monster! He controlled his own anger by concentrating on the financial repercussions of the whole thing. This shit was going to cost him a fortune.
When she swiveled to face him, he nodded. “I understand.”
“That goes for the sculpture I did of her as well. I’ll keep it, or give it to Mai if she wants it.”
Why hadn’t he thought about how she would respond to this? Because he’d never intended for the girl to be found. “No one will ever know it was her, Genevieve.”
“She’ll know, and I will, too.” Her eyes glazed with tears. “It will never be viewed publicly. Not unless she decides she wants it to be.”
Shit! That sculpture could have brought in ten thousand dollars, maybe more. “You said you changed her features, Genevieve. No one but you and she will know it’s her.”
She eyed him with a look on her face he couldn’t fathom. “That’s the point, Simon. She’ll know it’s her, and I will, too. She’s been raped and tortured. To know people are seeing her naked would be…” She shook her head. “I can’t do it to her. If it was me, I’d want it destroyed.”
“You can’t, Genevieve. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Please, just put it away until you can talk to her about it.”
That bitch Mai needed to die. But then Genevieve would probably find reason to bury it with her, or place it on her grave as a marker or something. Fuck!
“Can you take that kind of financial hit?” he asked.
“I have another sculpture almost finished. And I’m doing the drawings for the second of this series. I can hold out until I get it done and sell it.”
He’d have to push her to finish it quickly. And he’d have to concentrate on selling some of his other artists’ work online to make it. Damnit!
“I have to go. I’ll be happy to speak to the Richards myself if you feel I need to.”
“No, I’ll take care of it. What would you like me to do with the drawings?”
“I have others. See if the Richards will allow us to switch them out with the same mats and frames. Just explain to them what’s happened. I’m sure Mrs. Richards will understand.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. If she had other drawings she was willing to part with, it would make the whole thing less disastrous. If he could sell the Richards on them. He’d have to. “When would you like me to come out and get them?”
“Give me a couple of hours, and you can meet me at the studio. I’ll need to clean them up a little.”
“I’ll be there.” He glanced at his watch. “At four. Will that be okay?”
“Yes. That will be fine.” She was already far away, worrying about a girl who was a danger to his freedom, and should mean nothing to her. Why did she care about any of this? Mai was just a model. She’d been paid for her work.
“I hope they catch this bastard and put him in jail for the rest of his life.” She stormed out of the gallery. He watched while she got into her car and backed out into the street.
A monster and a bastard. That’s what she thought of him. Of what he’d done.
What would she think when he tied her up the first time? The only thing that had kept him from breaking in and doing so was the money. And once he had her… She’d either do as he wanted, or he’d kill her. She was his. Everything she did as an artist was his. He’d let her run the show too long. It was time he took the reins and settled things between them.
But now he needed to deal with Mai. He had never left any of his women alive, and wouldn’t make an exception with her. He’d have to go to the hospital and see if he could find out where she was being kept. But he had to take care of the Richards first. He went into his office and placed the call.