when she was a little girl, before Terry married a man he didn’t approve of. The ring had sentimental value. But past that, it was worth a king’s ransom. Darrin had tried to take it off her finger once, when she was asleep, but Terry’s poor hands were arthritic and swelled badly. He’d been sure at the time that all Terry had would be his one day, so he’d found an excuse to give her about what he was doing. He was just massaging her poor fingers because she’d been crying out in her sleep. Esther knew better. Terry hadn’t.
Now, Terry had truly left him and Esther was going to be next unless she could get away before he came downstairs. He was still upstairs, searching for the ring. He yelled that he’d seen her take it off and put it on the dresser, because he’d threatened her if she didn’t. So where was it?
That explained why Terry had it hidden in her hand. Esther had given her mother one last, anguished look, grabbed her coat and purse off the coat tree, and ran out into the snowy night.
She had only the money in her purse, her unspent allowance. She didn’t even have a credit card, having always used her mother’s. The money was all in her mother’s name as well, and Darrin would have access to it; but not at once. He wouldn’t know that Terry had cut up her credit cards so that Darrin wouldn’t have access to them, soon after they’d arrived in Aspen. She’d had the premonition then and shared it with her daughter. Terry was truly frightened after the terrifying trip up from Vegas, with Darrin driving the Mercedes, laughing about how much money—Terry’s money—he was going to spend on this new venture of his.
Most of Terry’s estate was tied up in stocks and bonds and property, not easily liquidated. The ring Esther wore was free and clear and could be hocked or sold for a fortune. Where could she go? She was twenty-three years old and she’d never worked a day in her life. She’d been pampered, taken care of, her every desire fulfilled. Her mother’s great wealth had cushioned her, spoiled her. If her mother had only loved her . . .
Well, over the years she’d managed to accept the neglect, while the housekeeper, Agnes, had shared holidays with her and been a wonderful substitute mother. Esther’s mother was perpetually in search of the right man, so there was a succession of them in the villas she kept both in the United States and other countries. Esther had learned quickly to stay out of the way. Her mother didn’t like having a grown daughter; it interfered with her vision of herself as a young and beautiful woman. Despite the face-lifts and spas and couture garments, her age was getting hard to hide. When she was at her lowest ebb, cast off by a younger lover, she’d met Darrin Ross. And it had all started to come apart. Even the slight affection Terry had felt for her daughter was suddenly gone, in the passion she shared with Darrin. But so soon, the passion turned to fear. Darrin drank heavily and used drugs, and he had very expensive tastes. Terry became a hostage to his desires. Along with her, Esther, too, became a victim. And now her mother was dead and she was cast adrift in a cold and frightening world, with no family.
Her mother had mentioned a grandfather. But who was he? Her mother spoke once of a falling-out she’d had with her remaining parent over her choice of husbands when she’d married Esther’s easygoing, gambling father. Her father was long dead, but the feud apparently remained. Esther knew her grandfather’s last name but not where he lived, because she hadn’t been told. She couldn’t go through family albums or correspondence, because those were in the main house back in Los Angeles, where Terry and Esther had lived. Esther didn’t even have her cell phone. It was in the drawer beside her bed, still charging. She’d forgotten to bring it downstairs this evening, having come running when she heard her mother scream.
She could have cried, but it would do no good. She was running for her life. She could call the police, of course, but Darrin would tell them it was a terrible accident. He wouldn’t tell them that he’d thrown Terry down the staircase, and when the police left . . . It