Stranger on the Shore - lanyon Josh (лучшие книги читать онлайн бесплатно TXT) 📗

“Threats, yes. Threats are common for people like us.”

Griff swallowed the first smartass comment that came to mind. “So you don’t take that kind of thing seriously?” He had noticed and wondered about the fact that there was no apparent security presence on the estate.

“We take serious threats seriously. Mostly what we get are letters from cranks. People asking for money and threatening to kill us if we don’t give it to them. Those are turned over to the detectives at the Nassau County Police Department.”

“Were you surprised when Odell Johnson turned out to be Brian’s kidnapper?”

“Surprised? Hardly. I’m the one who pointed the police to Johnson. I thought of him instantly. And of course I was correct. They found the ransom money underneath the floor of the toolshed in the house where he was renting a room. He admitted everything.”

That wasn’t accurate. Johnson admitted writing the ransom note and picking up the money, but he staunchly denied actually kidnapping Brian, which maybe made sense if he had killed Brian. Any chance for leniency, clemency, would be kaput from the minute Johnson admitted to killing a four-year-old, whether by accident or not.

“That’s helpful, thank you.”

“That’s it? Those are all the questions you have?”

“For now.”

“All right. If anything occurs to you, I’m right here.” She did not mean it figuratively. She picked up another album and began to flip through the pages.

Griff said, “Well, but I don’t want to keep you from—you probably have a million things to do.”

“This is more important,” Muriel assured him.

It seemed she meant it, because she did not leave the table once. Not in three hours. Hoping to discourage her, Griff determinedly looked through the albums, not responding to her sighs or murmurs from across the table as she also browsed. She was driving him nuts though.

Especially aggravating was the way she kept Gemma’s journal in her own personal space. She didn’t open the journal, though every now and then she absently straightened it or traced a finger across the cover. He couldn’t tell if the possessiveness was conscious on her part or not. He wanted to ask her to pass the journal to him, but that was equally irrational possessiveness on his part. Plus he was leery of precipitating another family drama. He wondered if Michaela had had a chance to present her case to Jarrett yet, and how that had gone.

He was still here, so maybe that was the answer.

Finally, just as Griff was seriously considering leaping across the table to throttle her, Muriel looked at the delicate silver watch on her meaty wrist. “It’s time for luncheon.” She looked at Griff expectantly.

“Sure, go ahead,” Griff told her, trying not to sound relieved.

“You’ll be taking your break as well?”

“I don’t eat lunch usually.”

“You’re welcome to lunch with us, you know.”

“Yes. But I should probably work.”

Muriel tried to insist, but Griff remained politely obstinate, and in the end her desire for lunch proved stronger than her need to keep him under surveillance.

He watched her consider taking the journal with her—she actually picked it up—but then she returned it to its place on the table. He exhaled a long sigh of relief as she left the room and vanished down the long hallway.

While the morning was not a write-off, he certainly wasn’t making the progress he’d hoped. Although that was partly his fault for letting Muriel get to him.

He half rose, reaching across the wide table for Gemma’s journal, dropping it as someone behind him cleared their throat. It took a second or two to spot Jarrett Arlington standing on the landing above him.

Jarrett was smiling, but there was something odd in his expression as he gazed down at Griff. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said apologetically, and now his expression was ordinary enough. “I wondered if you’d like to stop for lunch? I was thinking we could dine in my study.”

How. The. Hell? There was no way Jarrett could have come through the hall entrance. There was a small door to the right of the fireplace, but it was in Griff’s line of sight, and anyway, he wasn’t so preoccupied he could have missed Jarrett walking up that narrow circular staircase. There had to be a door leading onto the second tier of the library, but he couldn’t see one.

“Is there a hidden door up there?” Griff asked.

“Yes,” Jarrett answered easily. “One of the bookshelves swings out.”

How long had Jarrett been standing there watching him? Had he listened in on Griff’s conversation with Muriel? Not that there was any reason he shouldn’t, but it left Griff feeling uncomfortable and unhappy knowing he could be spied upon. Maybe a dramatic way of putting it, but that was what it amounted to.

“Are there a lot of secret passages or secret doors in the house?”

“One or two. But they’re not secret.” Jarrett smiled tolerantly down on him. “Lunch?”

He actually was hungry, now that he thought about it. Besides, lunch with Jarrett was an opportunity too valuable to miss. “Yes, thanks.”

Griff swiftly climbed the circular stairs to the second landing.

“Is Muriel making a nuisance of herself?”

Griff remembered that heavy sigh he’d given when Muriel left the room, and his face warmed. “Er...I know she’s trying to be helpful.”

“Then that’s more than I know,” Jarrett said. “How is your investigation going? Are you finding what you need?”

“Yes. Thank you. I was just about to start reading Gemma’s journal.”

“Ah.”

“Did she keep other journals?” Griff reached Jarrett, who had moved to stand next to a section of the bookcase which did indeed swing out to offer a view of a long dark hallway.

Jarrett hesitated. “She did, yes. All her life Gemma kept a journal. But losing Brian changed her. She never really got over it. I don’t believe she would have wished for those thoughts to be shared with anyone. Except Brian, of course.”

“Of course.”

Jarrett smiled, ushering Griff into the passageway. Surprisingly, the interior hall was carpeted and paneled. Light fixtures with frosted glass globes were positioned every few feet although they were not lit, perhaps because an oblong of daylight fell across the open end of the passage, offering watery illumination.

“Does everyone have access to this passage?” Griff asked. Was this how Brian’s kidnapper had avoided discovery within the house? It made sense.

“No. This passage only leads to the master bedroom and the master study. I’m the only one who uses it.”

“But if someone knew it was here?”

“Only the family and the household staff know about these walkways.”

In other words everyone on Long Island knew.

Jarrett said, “I should probably warn you that Pierce is joining us for lunch.”

“I just lost my appetite.”

Jarrett laughed. “That’s why I waited to tell you. I think you and Pierce got off on the wrong foot.”

Griff threw a look over his shoulder. “Is there any other possibility with that guy? He tried to buy me off last night. Did he happen to mention that?”

“Yes, he told me.” Jarrett sounded as untroubled as ever. “He really is trying to do the right thing, Griffin. He believes he’s protecting us. That’s his job.”

Griff said nothing. He believed Pierce Mather to be an arrogant and obstructive ass, but he wasn’t the first arrogant and obstructive ass he’d had to deal with, and he wouldn’t be the last.

“Pierce has always been a bit of an overachiever.” Jarrett’s voice floated from behind. Jarrett was beginning to remind Griff of the Cheshire Cat with his mysterious comings and goings and oblique pronouncements. Did anything shake him?

What had Jarrett been like twenty years ago? How had he handled Brian’s disappearance? How long had he remained confident of Brian’s return? Would that certainty have been reassuring or infuriating for Gemma and Matthew, especially as the years passed?