paused for a second, then looked to his wife. “Yes, you and the girls should go to the panic room.”
Primrose made a sound of disgust. “I hate the panic room.”
Silvia was already on her feet and was pulling Violet up to hers too. “You should be pleased we installed it.”
The room had been installed a decade and a half ago. Over the years, it had been upgraded as technology progressed. Except, so far, the room had only been used by the sisters as a den for their teenage sleepovers.
Clark reached for his mother. “You have to go quickly.”
“I don’t have to go anywhere,” Marigold said. “I don’t want to miss the fun.”
“Miss the fun,” Silvia muttered, ushering Violet past her to go to the next place-setting to retrieve Primrose. “Get up. We have to go.”
“This is crazy,” Poppy said. “He’s never going to get into the house.”
“Don’t underestimate crazy,” Primrose said.
The only one left in her seat, Poppy couldn’t believe all the drama. She was about to say exactly that when noise carried from outside the room. The gallery… There was a scramble, a sound like someone falling, then there was silence.
A female scream pierced the air.
“Oh my God,” Silvia said.
“Go!” Clark said, pushing his wife toward the terrace at the back of the room. “Go down through the library. All of you go now!”
It wouldn’t be difficult to find the family. The dining room was huge and would be the only lit up room in that part of the house. The kitchens were beyond it, so whoever was causing the chaos would come upon the dining room first. The library was a straight shot across the external terrace. Going outside was their only chance.
“Daddy,” Violet called as Silvia pulled her away from the table.
Marigold wasn’t quick to move, though she was quick to grab for Poppy who leaped to her feet.
“All of you go,” Clark said.
The women began to move in their huddle toward the terrace, hearts racing, adrenaline flowing. Someone was coming for them and her father was staying behind. Who the hell knew he was so brave?
Hasty footsteps came into the room and Poppy tried to turn, but the cluster of other Granger bodies was too close for her to see anything. Other faster footfalls followed and there was a scramble.
“Candy-Cane!” Poppy froze. Right there on the spot as the rest of her family kept on going for the door. The scramble continued; she thought for a second that maybe she’d made up his voice. “Jesus-fucking-Christ. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Spinning around, Poppy was astounded by the sight. It was Turner. Right there, being pulled and heckled by a bunch of guys wearing black. They were trying to drag him out. And the sirens, she could hear…
“Let him go!” Poppy screamed, hurrying across the room toward the melee. “Let him go now!”
Throwing herself into the mix, she yanked at the hands and arms connected to Turner. None of the security agents were authorized to hurt her. The cops were already on their way. If any of these guys hurt her or Turner, Poppy would demand the cuffs went on their wrists.
As security began to realize that she was coming to the defense of their intruder, they backed off, leaving her and Turner in the circle of their ranks.
“Poppy,” her father asserted from across the room. “What is going on?”
Rounding to look up at Turner, Poppy tried to figure out what he could be doing there. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “What are you doing here, First?”
Though she could see the pace of his pulse in his throat, his smile was slow. “You know what I’m doing here, Candy-Cane.”
No, she really didn’t and kept on searching his gaze trying to find an answer.
Her grandmother’s voice broke the tense silence. “Oh my God!” Marigold exclaimed. “He’s the stud.”
Turner’s amused brow rose in question.
Poppy couldn’t be so casual about his arrival. “Why didn’t you call?”
“You left your phone at the Venture.”
That’s right, she had. “Because I needed a clean break. We needed a clean break.”
“I have been on the road for fifteen hours straight. The whole time I tried to come up with what would be the right thing to say when I got here.”
“You drove?”
“I drove,” he said. “Once I knew I had to get here I just… I needed to get here.”
A plane would be faster, though somehow she couldn’t envisage him waiting at check in with a bag. Turner was an active guy; always doing something. Right