freshen up and I’ll be raring to go.”
“Wonderful,” Meredith said. “Well then, I’ll give you a chance to settle in.”
Mustering a smile, Jillian tried not to let her relief show. Truth be told, the woman’s nervous chatter was beginning to wear on her nerves. “That would be great, thanks.”
“Welcome to Sutton Hall,” Meredith said, then turned and walked to the door, gently closing it behind her.
As soon as the door was shut, Jillian released a long, slow breath and sagged onto the bed. Shoulders slumping, she surveyed her opulent surroundings.
She’d done it. She was here.
That was the easy part.
Now she had a mystery to solve.
* * *
ALONE AT LAST.
Lowering himself into the desk chair, Adam savored the silence that surrounded him. When he’d first arrived at Sutton Hall, the room that had served as Jacob Sutton’s study had been a disaster, packed with so much paper and clutter he’d barely been able to move through the space. Clearly Jacob had let things get away from him over the years. It had taken almost a full year, but Adam had managed to get the space in order. The study finally felt like his, a private sanctuary that offered a welcome place to retreat into his thoughts for a while. In the past month he’d needed that more than ever.
A brisk knock on the door suddenly interrupted the silence, the noise pulling a sigh from his lungs. So much for that.
He’d barely glanced up before the door opened and Meredith stepped into the room.
“Hey there,” he said, his irritation fading. “She all settled in?”
“I think so. I asked Zack to move her car to the garage and bring her bags in.”
Adam frowned. “I could have done that.”
“I know. I was going to ask you, but I wasn’t sure I wanted you interacting with her again so soon.” She folded her arms over her chest and matched his frown. “What was that out there?”
“What was what?”
Meredith shot him a pointed look. “You know what I’m talking about. You weren’t exactly laying out the welcome mat. You were practically interrogating her.”
“Maybe she needs to be interrogated,” he murmured.
Her frown deepened. “Do you really believe that?”
Adam released a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. I just think it’s very strange that this woman showed up so soon after what happened to Courtney Miller, has no problem having her wedding here and came here alone, the same way Courtney did. That doesn’t strike you as odd?”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted faintly. “After Courtney died, I thought we’d need a miracle to keep going. Maybe this is the one we need.”
Regret shot through him, not for the first time, in the face of his sister’s open vulnerability. He hated being the one to challenge her hopes that this could all still work out, but he had to be realistic, for both of their sakes. “Maybe,” he hedged, no doubt sounding as certain as he felt about the possibility that miracles existed, or that they would be lucky enough to be granted one.
“You said you were going to look in to her,” Meredith pointed out.
“I did.”
“And what’d you find?”
He hesitated before grudgingly admitting, “Nothing. She seems to be exactly who she claims to be.” Jillian Jones was a graphic designer who lived in San Francisco. Up until six months ago, she’d worked at a large advertising agency. She’d recently started her own freelance business that was just getting off the ground. She wasn’t a reporter or an investigator of some kind, someone he could imagine wanting to come here to stir up the mess surrounding Courtney Miller. The woman’s loved ones had understandably raised a fuss over her death, despite the fact that it had been a tragic accident, and he’d had to consider the possibility someone might come here acting on their behalf. That didn’t appear to be the case, but that still left the possibility she could be some kind of morbid ghoul who got her kicks out of tragic events. Either way, it would be trouble they didn’t need—which was exactly what his gut was telling him she was.
“Well, then what more do you want?” Meredith asked.
“For this to feel right, and it doesn’t.”
“I think you’re just being overly cautious,” she said. “Which you have every right to be after what happened. But maybe it’s time things started going our way. Her wedding is our second chance to make this work. If it doesn’t, we’re not going to get a third one.”
“I know,” he said gently.