Chapter 11

Daniel didn’t like the expression on Cy’s face when he showed up at his place that morning. That look usually meant that there was trouble.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Cy replied, “I need to talk to Sly. Is he around?”

“Yeah. We’re eating breakfast. You hungry?”

“No. I need to talk to him,” Cy said.

“What’s going on?” Daniel pressed.

Cy put on his investigator face. “I said that I need to talk to Sly. If I’d have wanted to talk to you about it, I’d have said so.”

Daniel’s eyebrows rose. “Fine.”

He preceded Cy into their dining room.

Cy’s Aunt Bonnie, an attractive, middle-aged redhead with blue eyes said, “Good morning, Cy. It’s good to see you.”

Cy kissed her cheek. “It’s good to see you, too, Aunt Bonnie. Uncle David.”

David nodded. “A’ho, Cy.”

Cy said, “Sly, can I talk to you?”

Sly smiled. “Sure. What’s going on?”

“In private?” Cy asked.

Sly put down his fork and got up. “Is the den okay?”

Cy nodded. “Yeah. That’ll be fine.”

When Daniel would have followed, Cy stopped him with a look. Daniel frowned but stayed put. Sly led the way through their big parlor out into a hallway and across it into a nicely appointed den. Cy closed the door.

Sly asked, “Why so secretive?”

Cy hated this part of his job, the part when he had to break people’s hearts with such terrible news about their loved ones. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Hesitantly, Sly sat in an overstuffed chair while Cy sat in the chair opposite. Cy anxiously rubbed his hands along his thighs and blew out a breath.

“Sly, I’m here about Catherine,” Cy said. “Brock came out to the house a little while ago. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but she was ... she’s ... dead. Someone murdered her last night.”

Sly’s face went blank, and he paled. He froze, unable to move as he took in what Cy had just told him. Then his hands tightened on the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white and his face contorted with pain. His black eyes blazed with fury and an anguished cry burst forth from him.

“I’m so sorry, Sly. So sorry,” Cy said.

Sly doubled over and let out a louder scream. Daniel and his parents burst into the den as Sly stood up and punched a bookcase with a glass front. His fist smashed through the glass, sending tiny razor-like shards flying through the air.

David grabbed hold of Sly before he could hit it again.

“What the hell did you tell him?” Daniel demanded of Cy, his blue eyes full of fire.

Cy was on his feet by that point. “Catherine is dead.”

Daniel took a step back in shock.

“Who did it?” Sly yelled. “Who did it? I’m going to kill them! I’ll make them wish they’d never been born!”

Cy said, “I don’t know yet, Sly. I’m going to start the investigation right now.”

“I’m coming with you. I have to see her.”

“No, Sly,” Cy said. “You can’t. I’m so sorry, but you can’t.”

Sly’s world shattered, and he wanted to die and be with Catherine. His sweet, beautiful Catherine. “Why would someone hurt her? She was so shy and good and—” Sly broke off into a guttural groan. “You find out who did it, Cy. If you do nothing else for me, do that and then tell me so I can make them pay.”

As much as Cy wanted to give the guilty party to Sly, he couldn’t. “Sly, I’ll find out who did it and they’ll pay, but not by your hand. Catherine wouldn’t want that for you.”

Sly dug into his trouser pocket and pulled out his pocketknife. With swift, jerky movements, he hacked off his hair, and then threw the black mass and the knife across the room. Tears streaming down his face, he fled the room, ripped open the front door, and took off running.

“I’ll go with him,” Daniel said, hurrying after his twin.

Cy circled Catherine’s body, making sure to stay out of the pool of blood that had spread from underneath her. He had Brock take the pictures he wanted and then told the coroner, Dr. Barnes, that he and his assistant, Jared Boyer, could remove the body. Cy barely kept his rage at bay so he could do his job.

As Connor and Jared did their part, Cy looked around the study and had Brock take more photos. The large, ornate desk was in disarray and a section of books had been removed from one of the bookcases and sat on the desk. The windows were all locked, which meant the killer had gone out another way, or they were still in the house. Cy still hadn’t ruled out that one of family or servants was the robber or the killer.

Once Brock was done with the pictures, Cy started going through the desk, looking at various papers that were of little consequence—nothing that someone would kill over. Then he went through each of the books on the desk and those on the bookcase, shaking them to see if anything fell out. Nothing did.

Frustration fueled his determination to find the killer. Striding from the study, he went down the hall to the drawing room where the family and guards were gathered.

“One of you knows what the killer is after, and you better come out with it right now. Catherine caught whoever was in that study last night by surprise. An innocent woman lost her life over something, and I know damn well it wasn’t that jewelry. If it had been there wouldn’t have been anyone here last night. Now, what is so important that someone would kill for it?” he practically shouted.

Loren, an attractive man with graying brown hair and blue eyes, flinched, but remained silent.

Carly, pale and drawn, said, “I don’t know. I wish I did. When you find out who did this, I want them killed. Just shoot them, Cyrus.”

“Carly,” Jillian Branson admonished her.

Carly glared at her mother. “Don’t take that tone with me, Mom. Catherine didn’t deserve what happened to her. I love her and I’m going to miss her so much.”

Cy looked at the four guards assembled along with the family. “None of you heard anything?”

They all answered in the negative.

Cy snorted in derision. “If it were up to me, I’d fire every one of you. Why weren’t one of you on patrol at night? Pathetic.” While the guards all bristled, Cy turned back to Carly. “If I, were you, I’d invest in a couple of attack dogs who would do a better job than all four of them put together.”

Dane said, “Now, listen here—”

“No, you listen!” Cy yelled. “I want to see all of your bank records. I have a feeling one of you were paid to look the other way and help whoever wanted to get in here.”

The guards were all offended, but Cy didn’t care.

“If you don’t have anything to hide, you’ll be forthcoming about your accounts,” Cy said. “As for the rest of you, I’m going to be going through your papers with a fine-tooth comb.”

Loren said, “You can’t do that. You have no grounds, and you’ll make a mess of them.”

“Your dead daughter and the robbery are my probable cause, and Judge Smythe will sign a warrant if I ask him,” Cy said. “It seems to me that you would be more worried about finding Catherine’s murderer than whether some papers get messed up.”

“Of course, I want the murderer found,” Loren said.

Cy snorted. “You got a funny way of showing it. It seems like Carly’s the only one who’s really grieving. There’s got to be something these people are after, and I just know that one of you is involved. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The killer can get in and out of the house easily and without alerting the guards. That means that the person is familiar with the house.”

Dane asked, “Then why’d they knock us out the night of the robbery?”

“You’re dumber than a box of rocks,” Cy said. “I already told you. It was a staged robbery and I’ll bet that those jewels are somewhere safe and that one of you knows where they are.”

Jillian shifted in her chair a little. Cy pounced on the telltale sign of discomfort.

“Where are they, Jillian?”

She jumped at Cy’s question. “How would I know?”

His gaze sharpened on her. “Are they in your room somewhere? If I went through your room, would I find them?”

Color suffused her face. “No!”

Deciding to completely shake her up, Cy left the room and started up the main staircase. Jillian was hot on his trail.

“Don’t you dare go in my room! You’re violating my privacy!” She mounted the stairs as quickly as her dress allowed.