new sign-in from somewhere else. If I checked from his computer, though…
I glanced at an antique clock on a bookshelf across the room. I should have time to check it quickly. Hadn’t Eleanor said she could keep Scott dancing attendance on her for as long as she wanted? If there were nothing there, I could log out again in seconds. Hell, the password might not even work.
I opened up a browser and brought up Gmail, typing the address in and the same password as before. Every millisecond stretched out like honey, and my chest tightened as the screen shifted, opening up the account’s inbox.
My jaw dropped when I saw the contents. I clicked on the first email that caught my eye, one with a subject line of, ‘We need to do something about this bitch.’ From another anonymous account, promising monetary reward for taking care of the woman in question.
There was an article attached from the Adair Gazette, written by Nora, reporting on the damage Sarah Jane Slagle’s property had sustained. There were quotes from Sarah Jane, explaining the vandalism, and Nora had done a masterful job of implying—without coming right out and saying—that the vandalism might be linked to Lyles & Blackstone’s predatory development on the island.
My eyes darted to the date. Months before I’d come back to Summersea. Jesus, no wonder Sarah Jane kept a shotgun with her, if she’d been harassed for that long. Or was ‘this bitch’ supposed to be Nora, I wondered?
Either way, it was scary—and incriminating as hell.
I snapped a screenshot of that email and copied it to the USB key, then repeated the process with six more, when I heard footsteps approaching the study. I froze. Shit. Had fifteen minutes passed already? Had Eleanor already left?
I looked back down at the computer. I needed as many of those emails as I could get—they were the final nail in Scott’s coffin, and hopefully Lyles & Blackstone’s as well. But could I even get out now, before someone saw me?
A scream rang out through the house, and if I thought I’d frozen at the sound of the footsteps, this noise turned me to stone. Even though I’d never heard her scream before, I knew in my bones that scream came from Eleanor. And she sounded like she was in pain.
The footsteps that had been approaching the study retreated, speeding up as they faded away, and I heard Scott’s voice calling, “Eleanor? What happened?”
Shit, what had happened? Had she fallen? Hurt herself? Had a heart attack?
Flames of fear licked at my heart, and I realized, with some surprise, that I was more worried about Eleanor being hurt than I had been about getting caught.
She’d seemed fine when I’d left her car. She had to be fine. This was just a diversion. She must have realized Scott was headed towards his study and done what she needed to do in order to stop him.
Right?
Don’t think about it, I scolded myself. If Eleanor were hurt, or worse—no. I couldn’t think about that now. I needed to focus on the job.
That was what she would tell me to do, I was sure of it. She wanted to stop the development as much as I did. And even if she were having a heart attack, she’d probably scold me for getting distracted. Find some way to make this all my fault. Well, I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.
Grimly, I finished screenshotting the emails and transferring them to the USB. With a final check that I’d gotten what I needed, I ejected it and slipped it back into my pocket next to the butterknife. I sent the computer back to sleep, crossed the room, and lowered myself down through the window before sliding it shut.
There was no sign I’d ever been there.
I hesitated, though, out in the yard. If Eleanor were hurt, I could head out through one of Scott’s neighbor’s yards. Come to the front of the house. Wait somewhere hidden until I knew if an ambulance was coming, or something worse.
Except I wasn’t supposed to be seen anywhere near Scott’s house tonight, so it’s not like I could offer any actual help. I was supposed to head straight back to the Wisteria, and get what we’d found to Nora. If I stuck around, I could fuck everything up.
With a sigh, I headed back to the edge of Scott’s yard. Eleanor would be okay.