If At First (Crimson Cove Mysteries Book 1) by Brown Tara

Author:Brown, Tara [Brown, Tara]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-05-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Blackmail’s a B

My feet padded along the driveway, making the only noise I could hear. When I turned the corner and saw the guardhouse, I sighed and slowed down, breathing like I might have done a marathon.

The guard gave me a slight wave from his booth, but I hurried to him, pointing behind me. “I saw someone, back on the lawn when I was leaving. You should check it out.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “No one got past here.”

“No, but you can climb the walls and fences or come up from the beach. How do you think we have snuck past you so many times?” I shook my head and walked to the road, hoping he would at least check.

I pulled my cell phone from my clutch, about to dial my dad for a ride when a limo pulled up next to me. My own reflection gave me a chill. The wild look in my dark-blue eyes and the sweat on my brow gave me the appearance of a stranger. My short brown hair was wild from the running.

Before I had the chance to walk away, the window came down and a smug-looking Vincent nodded his head at me. “Get in, princess. I called your dad already and told him we were headed back to the house.”

My nose wrinkled and my upper lip lifted in disgust. “I am going nowhere with you.”

“Let me explain.” He sounded desperate. I turned on a heel and started up the road. The driver kept pace with me as Vincent begged, “Please, Linds. Don't do this now. I finally have the chance, and I’m blowing it by trying to win you over like a normal girl, and you aren’t normal at all. I should have just been honest with you from the start.”

“Night, Vince.” I continued ignoring him and walked, hating the fact my bare feet were on the street and he had called me not normal. Asshole.

“Hugo, close the window but keep pace,” Vincent shouted as he jumped out from the slow-moving car and walked next to me, still talking. He wasn't wearing his suit anymore. “I was sent those pictures. They were sent to me with a weird note done like it was written by a kidnapper. It honestly looked like a ransom note. Like kidnapper font?” He sounded confused.

I paused when I realized that was exactly the same as the letter to Ashton, making Vincent and the car stop dead in their tracks. “What?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, looking sincere and worried even. “Someone sent a few of them to me, told me I had to put the pictures in my bedside drawer or more would come every week and they would get worse. At first they were normal pictures. I threw them out, thinking it was a joke. But sure enough, more came, some even addressed to my dad. I managed to get them before he saw them. The handwriting on the envelopes is always the same. They come from random addresses around the world, no consistency.

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