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Was she being paranoid? Maybe, but her gut was screaming at her that this man was not her father.

Kicking herself for not heading straight upstairs to find him, she edged closer to the desk and forced a smile. “Congrats on winning the race.” She kept her tone pleasant, even as she searched the man’s expression for any sign that he was Liam and not Seamus. “You must be thrilled at the outcome.”

“It’s wonderful how all of our hard work paid off.” He beamed, and for a moment, his scowling expression in the box seat at the race flashed in her mind. She didn’t remember everything, but she recalled that her uncle Seamus was usually grumpy about something or other. Maybe this man was her father.

She was about to ask about his plans for breeding Fiona’s Folly when she noticed his gaze had shifted, then narrowed. Belatedly, she realized he was looking at the desk for the contract. The one she’d tucked into her back pocket.

Taking another step closer to the desk, she kept her gaze averted from the desktop phone. Her father was old school, preferring to have a landline, one he refused to give up despite the proliferation of cell phones.

“Stop right there!” Out of nowhere, the man facing her pulled a gun. She stared in horror upon realizing the weapon was in his left hand.

Seamus was left-handed. He and her father were mirror twins, which meant they looked the same physically but were essentially a mirror image to each other. Her father was right-handed, and Seamus was left-handed.

And that explained the slight differences in the signature. The one Seamus forged, pretending to be Liam. He’d likely practiced, but since he was left-handed, the signature looked different from the way her father wrote his name.

Hoping, praying that Doc and Rex were on their way to the house, she screamed as loud as possible and dove behind the desk, using it as cover. She wasn’t sure if she should be glad or upset that Seamus didn’t fire the gun at her.

“Shut up!” He crossed the room and leaned over to roughly grab her arm. “Get up, Fiona, it’s time to finish this once and for all.”

She cried out in pain when he yanked her upright. She stumbled to her feet, her hip striking the edge of the desk hard enough to leave a bruise. It wasn’t easy to ignore the barrel of the gun mere inches from her face.

Seamus could kill her right there and then if he wanted to.

Yet that would be difficult to explain to her father. It would make far more sense for Seamus to get her far away from the property before taking deadly action.

Unless . . . She sucked in a harsh breath as a terrible thought hit hard. Unless her father had already been eliminated from the equation.

Panic clawed up her throat as her uncle’s fingers dug deeply into her arm. Was that what had happened? She only remembered hearing the conspiracy to fix the race, nothing about taking out her father. But now that the idea had lodged in her mind, she couldn’t let it go. Was Seamus the man she’d seen in the box seat at the race yesterday? Had her uncle killed her father to take over the ownership of the farm, including Fiona’s Folly?

Battling fear intermixed with grief, she tried to wrench free. In response, Seamus dug his fingers even deeper into her flesh.

“You’ll never get away with this!” She projected her voice hoping Edith, their live-in cook, might hear. “I have friends who know the truth! Even if you kill me and have gotten rid of my father, they will hunt you down until justice is served.”

A flicker of unease flashed in her uncle’s blue eyes, then he shrugged, his expression seemingly unconcerned. “What’s a few more casualties in this war? I won’t let you or anyone else stop me from getting what I deserve.”

“Deserve?” A harsh laugh escaped from her throat. “You don’t deserve this. My father was the one who worked with the breeder to obtain Fiona’s Folly. My father is the one who built this farm up from scratch. You’re nothing but a leech! You and your son have tagged along on my father’s fame doing nothing but spending his money. No matter what you do, you’ll never be as successful as my father.”

“Shut up!” The volume of his voice surprised her. Wasn’t he worried about Edith hearing them?

Or had he killed her too? She was starting to think everyone in the house had been taken out of the picture.

She turned her head, unnerved by the gun being so close, and caught a glimpse of one of the double doors opening just a crack. Hoping it was either Doc, Rex, or even Edith, she quickly faced Seamus.

“What’s your plan? What happens after you shoot me and dump my body in a hole somewhere? Do you have more goons out there waiting to do more of your dirty work?” She was babbling a little, determined to keep her uncle’s gaze focused on her rather than on whoever was on the other side of the double doors.

“You’re too smart for your own good,” Seamus growled. “We’re getting out of here, but through the kitchen, understand? You’re going to walk alongside me as if everything is fine. If you try to alert Edith who is enjoying her brand-new headphones I purchased for her, I’ll just shoot you both and come up with a new cover story as to what happened.”

She didn’t doubt for a moment that he would kill her and Edith without blinking an eye. But still, she didn’t want to leave the study. Not if Doc or Rex was on the other side of the double doors.

Should she call out a warning? Or would that just startle Seamus enough to kill her?

“Okay fine. I’ll go with you. Just don’t hurt Edith, okay? She doesn’t deserve that.” With reluctance, Fiona allowed him to pull her away from the desk toward the side doorway leading to the kitchen.

All she could do now was pray for safety and mercy, not just for her but for her father.

Doc listened to the exchange between Fiona and her uncle Seamus, debating his next move. He had assumed the guy was in the office from the beginning, but when the guy mentioned they were going out the side door, Doc realized there was a connection between the office and the kitchen.

After quickly texting Rex that he was needed in the kitchen, Doc slipped his phone into his pocket and took stock of the situation. Even if Rex was far away from the house, Doc knew there was no time to waste. Hoping the element of surprise would work in his favor, he slammed the office door open and shouted, “Drop your weapon!”