When Twilight Comes - By B. J. Daniels Page 0,57

Harry’s voice in her head. She’d more than lost her mind. She was about to lose her life. At least Lexi was safe. She did trust that Harry had told her the truth about her daughter. She could hear the sound of sirens growing closer.

There he is.

She could feel the gun tucked at the small of her back. Through the steam rising off the hot pools she saw Lorenzo come out the door into the courtyard. He spotted her and smiled as he began walking toward her.

This was crazy. But Harry was right about one thing. It had to end on this mountain. Jenna couldn’t live in fear the rst of her life. She had to protect her daughter.

She turned and started up the path, through the dense woods, as Harry had instructed. As she climbed, following the narrow track, the trees like a wall on each side of her, the clouds grew darker, the fog thicker. She could barely see two feet in front of her.

She didn’t look back, just kept climbing. Lorenzo wasn’t worried about catching her. His arrogance wouldn’t allow him to hurry. He thought he had her right where he wanted her. Maybe he did. Maybe this voice inside her head was of her own making. If so, then Lorenzo had driven her to this.

We’re almost there.

The sound of Harry’s voice sent a stab of yearning through her. She hadn’t lost her mind. Instead, she’d found something else here at Fernhaven. Something she couldn’t bear to lose.

She slowed as the path reached a small clearing. Mist swirled around large boulders and wind-twisted trunks of cedar trees.

Walk just ahead and wait for him. Stop.

Jenna stared back the way they’d come. A breeze stirred the tops of the trees, swirling the fog and mist, making a low groaning sound. The air was cold and damp and seemed to cut through her clothing. She hugged herself to still her trembling as she caught a glimpse of something moving through the fog toward her. Lorenzo?

She drew the gun and started to take a step back, but Harry stopped her.

There’s a cliff behind you.

Jenna swung around. She could see nothing but fog. She kicked a small rock and heard it drop over the side, hit way below her, then again, the sound echoing up until she heard nothing. She could feel Harry with her.

Jenna…

She turned back around, hearing something in Harry’s voice that scared her more than standing on the edge of a cliff.

“What is it?”

We’re not alone. I don’t know who it is.

She heard a strange sound in his voice and began to shake harder as a figure slowly took shape out of the mist.

Raymond Valencia stopped just yards from her. He looked odd, his clothing almost too neat after the climb up the mountain.

“Raymond?” Why did she get the feeling it wasn’t really him? “What are you doing here?”

“He can’t save you, Jenna,” Raymond said. “He was never interested in saving you—only himself. He’s a con man, Jenna. A thief. Haven’t you realized that?”

Who was Raymond talking about? Lorenzo?

“He tricked you, Jenna. Made you fall in love with him. You think it’s a coincidence you ended up at Fernhaven?” He shook his head. “He willed you here, knowing you were in trouble.”

She shook her own head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Harry Ballantine, Jenna. He’s the one who got you here so you could save his life.”

She stared at Raymond, her heart in her throat. Raymond Valencia knew about Harry?

“Tell her, Harry. You stole Bobby John Chamberlain’s identity so you could attend the Fernhaven grand opening to steal the jewelry you knew would be here. But you got caught in the fire. Except Bobby John Chamberlain was supposed to die. Not you. Not Harry Ballantine. Come on out, Harry. Show yourself. Don’t be shy.”

“How do you know all this?” Jenna cried.

“Because Raymond Valencia’s dead, Jenna,” Harry said, materializing beside her. “His helicopter crashed not far from here in the storm.”

“That’s right, Jenna,” Raymond said. “I can’t help you, either. But I can warn you. Harry wins either way. If he fails, he’s trapped here for eternity. But then so are you.”

She felt her knees go weak. None of this was happening. She was still inside the hotel on the floor, suffering from a concussion after Charlene had hit her. Maybe she was dead. Or maybe just dreaming.

“There is no redemption for Harry Ballantine because of the life he led before his untimely death,” Raymond said. “No matter what