The Best Man to Trust - By Kerry Connor Page 0,15

lying dead in the upstairs hallway, gone forever.

Meredith reached out, hesitating slightly before placing her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she said, genuine sympathy shining in her deep brown eyes.

“Thanks.”

With a tight nod, she pulled her hand away, its absence inexplicably making him feel colder. “Come on,” she said, sending an uneasy glance down the corridor. “We should keep moving.”

Tom followed her gaze. The hallway was empty and well-lit. He didn’t spot a single shadow. So why did it suddenly appear so impossibly long and dim somehow, every doorway seeming to contain a possible threat?

As if sensing the same thing he did, she shuddered lightly.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

She quickly took off again, regaining her earlier speed. Tom fell into step beside her. He knew she had to be concerned about her employees. But as he thought about the people they were seeking out, he realized there was a very good chance that one of them was responsible for what had happened upstairs.

He pictured them—the big, muscular handyman with the friendly grin who’d helped them with their bags and the full-figured, pleasant-faced cook who’d served dinner. He couldn’t immediately see either of them committing the gruesome act upstairs. But who else was here?

“How much do you know about your employees?” Tom asked carefully.

“Everything possible. After what happened here before, Adam—that’s my brother—conducted practically government-level background checks on them to make sure there were no skeletons in their closets or issues we needed to know about. After what happened before we weren’t taking any chances.”

“Still, there could be something that wouldn’t show up in a background check, some secret reason to lead one of them to do this.”

“I trust them absolutely,” she said firmly.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she’d felt the same way about the previous staff. He bit back the question, figuring he’d pushed her enough tonight.

“It looked like a kitchen knife was what was used,” he pointed out. “As far as I know, no one from the wedding party got close to the kitchen.”

“I didn’t see it that closely. And Ellen had a few knives out for the roast and the rest of dinner, didn’t she?”

Thinking back, he realized she was right. “Did you notice any of them missing after dinner?”

“No,” she admitted. “But I wasn’t keeping track of them. She shot him a glance. “What about you? You haven’t seen most of your friends in years. They could have changed. They could have motives you know nothing about.”

Tom couldn’t exactly argue with her. He suspected many of them had changed. But the idea that one of them could have changed enough to become a killer—and kill one of their own friends—was inconceivable.

Before he could answer, they arrived at a back hallway on the first floor not far from the kitchen. Probably a logical place for the household staff to be staying.

Meredith walked up to one of the doors. Raising her hand, she hesitated for a brief moment before knocking. “Ellen? It’s Meredith.”

There was no immediate response, likely not a surprise considering what time it was. The woman was probably asleep. Unless she’s been up to something else, he thought.

A darker thought drifted through his mind, inspiring a hint of guilt. Unless something happened to this woman, as well.

They waited a few moments. Tom didn’t detect any sounds from within the room. His unease growing, he shot a glance down the hallway in both directions. “Is Rick staying down here, too? I can get him.”

Meredith nodded. “Yes, he’s—”

The door of the cook’s room suddenly opened slightly, drawing their attention back to it. Seconds later, Ellen appeared in the gap. Still holding the door partway shut, she peered at them, eyes wide with concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened,” Meredith said. She took a deep breath before continuing, and he could sense how difficult it was for her to say the rest. “There’s been a murder. One of the guests has been killed.”

At first the other woman simply blinked at her with a complete lack of comprehension. “Who— When—” She swallowed. “Who did it?”

“We don’t know,” Meredith admitted. “Can you come with us? I think it would be safer if everyone stuck together.”

For a moment, doubt flickered across the woman’s face, and Tom had a feeling she wanted to say no. She was probably thinking she’d be safer staying where she was. He couldn’t fault her for the idea.

He studied the cook’s face, trying to get a better read on her.