Page 64 of Twisted Elites

He shrugged. “My money’s on Mr. Byrd.”

A shiver ran down my back. “He blames me for the break up of his family.”

Leopold twisted around in his seat. “But not for pushing Bianca off the east wing. Did you notice that?”

“He already knows who maimed his daughter,” I muttered.

As soon as we left the mountain and joined the well-lit highway, the tension in the air melted. Leopold and Sebastian laughed about tackling Miss Claymore, and I relaxed into the back seat. If that had been Mr. Byrd breaking into our room and needing to be physically restrained, I certainly wouldn’t smile about it—ever.

My mind drifted to the cottage, and I hoped the intruder hadn’t set it on fire. A pang of sadness pierced my chest, spreading cold toward my limbs. With Uncle Trevor so busy with his young family and Ashley in Ibiza, living her dream life with DJ Bones, that home really was my last connection with Mom and Dad.

I shook off those thoughts. Mrs. Ochill would have called again if she’d noticed any smoke.

By the time we reached Cummersdale, the clouds had cleared, revealing an indigo sky bright with the moon and stars. Their silvery light reflected on the white rendering on our cottage. Swallowing hard, I shook my head. It was my cottage now. Thanks to Sebastian and Mr. Pinkerton, the property was now registered in my name. All the lights were off, making me hope the intruder had already left.

Leopold stepped out of the car, holding two cricket bats. I clutched at the huge flashlight I had picked up on my way out of the academy, opened the car door, and stepped out into the warm night.

Sebastian exited and took one of the bats from Leopold before turning to me. “We’ll enter in single file. I want you in the middle,” he whispered. “That way, if the prowler circles back and attacks from behind, he still won’t get at you.”

“Right,” I whispered back.

My fingers trembled over the house keys, but Sebastian took them and headed for the door. I followed after him with Leopold at my rear. Palpitations reverberated in the tips of my fingers. What if the man was armed and still in the house?

We reached the doorstep, and Sebastian turned the key in the lock. I held my breath, bracing myself for a balaclava-covered man to fly out brandishing his crowbar. He pushed the door open and swung the cricket bat in a defensive arch, but the hallway was empty.

Sniffles and sobs filled the air.

Sebastian stepped inside and crept down the darkened hall with me at his heels. Leopold let the door click shut before catching up. We passed the empty living room and stepped into the darkened dining room, where the sounds became more pronounced.

A shiver ran down my spine, and my heart beat faster. I pushed aside thoughts of wrathful ghosts and glanced around the empty dining room. Nobody sat on the wooden seats or even crouched underneath the table, and the bookshelves in the alcove were untouched.

We continued to the kitchen, where a long-haired figure in a grubby white nightgown sat by the kitchen sink. Black hair obscured her face.

A cold, hard fist slammed into my gut, ripping a scream from my lips. I staggered back into Leopold, who pulled me into his arms.

“Fucking hell!” Sebastian held his cricket bat like a flame-thrower and backed further into the dining room.

“Willow?” said a small, broken voice.

“A-Ashley?”

Leopold tightened his grip around me, while Sebastian ventured back into the kitchen. Despite Leopold’s warmth, a cold sweat broke out across my skin. The last time I’d seen her, she still had her blonde hair from her disguise as a maid. The last time I’d heard from her, she had left the country to become the girlfriend of an international DJ.

The muscles of my stomach tightened. The last thing I’d heard about her was that she had mixed heroin into Bruce Wilmington and Jarrett Riley’s marijuana and gotten them killed.

Leopold growled. “You’ve got some nerve to show your face after—”

I wrapped my hand around his forearm and squeezed hard. Accusations would only scare her away. Right now, we needed to know why she had returned and what danger she posed. Leopold let go of me and stood to the side.

Sebastian walked into the kitchen and turned on the light. Dirt encrusted the skirt of Ashley’s white nightgown and caked her hands and bare feet. I frowned. She looked like she had trekked through the mud.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

Ashley raised her head. All the bruising had faded, but her nose had thickened around the bridge. One side of her jaw protruded more than the other, and her eyes were bloodshot. “Why didn’t you take Mr. Byrd’s calls?”

My brows furrowed. “Why the hell would I speak to that maniac?”

“Because he held me hostage for weeks?”