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He shook his head. “I went by your place, and when I didn’t see your car, I came by here on a hunch.”
She glanced at Jess’s beautiful yard full of flowers. Maybe the sunshine and the scent of roses would settle her some. “It’s a beautiful afternoon. Let’s sit on the porch. I could use some fresh air.”
He held the door open for her, and she went ahead of him to the comfortable furniture on the wide front porch and sank into a lone chair instead of the sofa. She didn’t want to sit too near him in case he sensed the turmoil inside her. Hez was good at reading people—especially her.
He settled on the sofa. “Jess wouldn’t tell me anything about the London trip other than it was for a good reason. Did she tell you what was going on?”
Savannah watched a hummingbird flitter from rose to rose while she thought through her response. “She told me, Hez, but she swore me to secrecy. And while I wish she had told you, I understand her reasons for keeping it quiet.” She finally met his gaze and flinched at the skepticism in his blue eyes. She couldn’t fault him though—when had Jess ever made things easy for him? Or trusted him?
She searched his face for clues as to how things had gone. “Did you find her another attorney?”
This time he fell silent for several long beats. “She persuaded me to stay on to represent her.”
“I’m shocked.”
“She made a good case for it. The main reason I agreed is that Jess and I are both afraid the real killer will turn his attention to you. You’re tenacious, and you love your sister enough to keep digging no matter how much the police and I tell you to stay out of it. I’ll bet you’re planning where to investigate next, aren’t you?”
All thoughts of finding the killer had flown from her head the minute she heard about Simon, but he couldn’t know that. When she got back from London, she’d focus again. The motivation to find the real killer had gotten even more urgent now that she knew about her nephew.
She gave a jerky nod. “The police aren’t investigating any longer. They believe they have the killer in jail. If Jess is going to be freed, someone else has to get to the truth.”
“As her attorney, I’ll have access to everything the prosecution knows. There’s no need for you to investigate on your own.”
“But I’m going to, so you might as well clue me in on everything.”
He heaved a sigh. “You can be the worst bulldog in the world. Does Jess’s London trip affect the case?”
“No. It’s a personal issue, Hez. Very personal with absolutely no connection to the case. Jess can’t let this get out or it will adversely affect someone she loves very much. But I promise you it has nothing to do with the two murders. I’m going to London in her place to take care of wh-what needs to be done.”
This time Hez’s silence stretched out so long Savannah thought he wouldn’t answer at all. He pressed his lips together and speared her with a hard stare. “Be careful, babe. While you’re sure it’s not related, the killer could follow you since you’ll be alone. I could go with you.”
Her lips curved in an involuntary smile at his worry. “I won’t be gone that long, and it’s not necessary. You concentrate on getting my sister out of jail. I’ll be back next weekend.”
The concern in his eyes only deepened. “I wish you’d tell me what this is all about.”
If only she could. This was a heavy secret to bear on her own, but Jess was depending on her.
Chapter 28
Savannah squared her shoulders and peered up at the looming English manor. She’d looked up the history of the place before she boarded the private charter plane. Fairhurst Boarding School had once been owned by the Fairhurst family, and Adam Fairhurst built his fortune by trading in the West Indies. He had built the imposing manor to impress his beloved with his wealth and power. The move had worked, and Elizabeth had moved in six months after completion. Their heirs sold it in 1970, and the school was formed a year later after renovations were complete.
The imposing mansion in the countryside was an hour from the airport. She stepped out of the rental car and glanced around the impressive estate before heading for the door. The rolling green hills and woods around the estate made her feel she should curtsy at the ten-foot carved entry doors.
One good thing had come from the trip—she’d finished her manuscript about the Willard Treasure, and it was ready to submit for publication. She rang the bell at the door.
“I’m here to pick up Simon Legare for his break,” she told the woman who opened the door. The brunette was in her twenties and wore a harried expression.
The woman hesitated. “You’re not Ms. Legare.”
“I’m her sister, Savannah Webster.”
“Mr. Lloyd needs to speak with you in his office. This way.”
Savannah followed the woman wearing a neat white blouse and navy skirt through massive halls, their footsteps echoing from the high domed ceiling. The sound of children laughing came from somewhere off to the right, and through the window she spotted boys playing soccer in a wide green field.
The woman opened a tall door and motioned her inside. “I’ll let Mr. Lloyd know you’re here.” Once Savannah stepped into the waiting room, the woman closed the door behind her.
Savannah glanced around and spotted a few books on ancient Welsh history she wished she could dive into, but that would mean sitting down. She was too much on edge to think about perching on one of the leather chairs scattered around the massive room. She paced the gorgeous area rug in front of the bookcases. What would Simon say when she showed up? How did she begin to explain why she was here instead of his mother? The story they’d concocted about Jess having an important meeting seemed inadequate now.
