Heroes Are My Weakness(45)

She hadn’t known it at all, and she didn’t trust him. But then something occurred to her. “You won’t fire her as long as you can make me jump through hoops. Is that it?”

“I can’t believe you really swept out those fireplaces.” The slight lift of one indolent eyebrow said she’d been played for a sucker. “If she stayed in town instead of living at the house, she could come out a couple of times a week,” he said. “I can still do that, you know.”

“Where in town? A room in somebody’s house? That’s worse than what she has now.”

“It shouldn’t be a problem as long as I can work here.” He drained his wineglass. “And Jaycie’s kid will talk when she’s ready.”

“The great child psychologist has spoken.”

“Who better to recognize a troubled kid than me?”

She played at wide-eyed innocence. “But Livia isn’t a psychopath.”

You think just because I’m a bad guy, I don’t have feelings?

She’d definitely had too much wine because the voice belonged to Leo.

“I had some problems that summer. I acted out.”

His lack of emotion infuriated her, and she jumped up from the table. “You tried to kill me. If Jaycie hadn’t been walking on the beach that night, I would have drowned.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” he said with an unsettling intensity.

She hated her own uncertainty about him. She should feel more threatened when they were together, but the only threat she felt came from confusion. Still, was that so different from being fifteen? She hadn’t wanted to believe she was in danger then, either. Not until she’d almost drowned.

“Tell me about Regan,” she said.

He balled his napkin and stood. “There’s no point.”

If he had been anybody else, compassion would have made her stop. But she needed to understand. “Regan was a good sailor,” she said. “Why would she take the boat out when she knew it was getting ready to storm? Why would she do that?”

He strode across the room and grabbed his jacket. “I don’t talk about Regan. Ever.”

Seconds later, he was out the door.


SHE FINISHED OFF THE LAST of the wine before she went to bed and awoke with a giant thirst and an even bigger headache. She didn’t want to go to Harp House today. Hadn’t Theo said he wouldn’t fire Jaycie? But she didn’t trust him. And even if he had meant it, Jaycie still needed help. Annie couldn’t abandon her.

As she left the cottage, she vowed not to let Theo make her jump through hoops with any more jobs like cleaning fireplaces. There was only room for one puppet master on Peregrine Island, and that was herself.

Something whizzed by her head. With a gasp, she fell to the ground.

She lay there breathing hard, the dirt cold and rough beneath her cheek, the world spinning around her. She squeezed her eyes shut. Felt her heart pounding.

Someone had just tried to shoot her. Someone who might, even now, be coming after her with a gun.





Chapter Ten


ANNIE TESTED HER ARMS AND legs, only moving them enough to make sure she hadn’t been hit. She listened hard but heard nothing except the ragged sound of her breath and the pound of surf. A seabird called out. Slowly, carefully, she lifted her head.

The bullet had come from the west. She saw nothing unusual in the thicket of red spruce and stunted hardwoods that lay between where she was lying and the road. She pushed herself higher, the weight of her backpack shifting, and gazed back toward the cottage, then the ocean, then up at Harp House looming at the top of the cliff. Everything looked as cold and isolated as always.

She came to her knees slowly. With only a backpack for protection, she was too exposed. She had no experience with firearms. How did she know that had really been a bullet?

Because she knew.

Was it a hunter’s errant shot? Peregrine Island had no game animals, but every home had guns. According to Barbara, more than a few islanders had shot either themselves or each other. Generally, they’d been accidents, she’d said, but not always.

Annie heard something behind her—a noise that didn’t belong—the sound of a horse’s hooves. A fresh rush of adrenaline sent her to the ground again.

Theo was coming after her to finish the job.

As soon as the thought took shape, she struggled to her feet. She’d be damned if she’d let him shoot her while she was cowering in the dirt. If he was going to kill her, he’d have to look her in the eye when he pulled the trigger. As she spun around and saw the powerful animal galloping toward her from the beach, a terrible sense of betrayal ripped through her, along with a desperate need to believe this wasn’t happening.

Theo pulled up and threw himself off Dancer. There was no gun in his hand. No weapon of any kind. Maybe he’d dropped it. Or . . .

His cheeks were ruddy from the cold, but his jacket was unzipped, and it opened as he dashed toward her. “What happened? I saw you fall. Are you all right?”

Her teeth were chattering, and she was shaking all over. “Did you just try to shoot me?”

“No! What the hell? Are you saying somebody tried to shoot you?”

“Yes, somebody tried to shoot me!” she cried.

“Are you sure?”