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Her ping-ponging emotions must be due to her upcoming birthday. She was turning the big three-oh. Her biological clock was ticking like a time bomb. And although people assumed she’d host a big bash to celebrate, she wouldn’t.
Besides, turning thirty had its own consequences. She’d inherit the millions from the trust fund her father had reserved for her.
Yet he wouldn’t personally show to celebrate the big day.
And Miles, her half brother, would hate her even more.
The argument she’d had with him earlier taunted her. The resentment in his tone, the accusations in his eyes. For a moment, she’d been afraid of him. He’d gripped her arm and shouted at her, had sounded out of control, almost threatening. And then that phone call…
No. She didn’t like the path her mind was taking.
Miles wouldn’t try to kill her, would he?
Chapter Three (#ulink_52c6b810-bef0-5304-850f-99d6423d7ea9)
Hayes checked the circuit breakers and restored power before searching the mansion. Throwing some light in the house might drive out the perp, or at least strip the guy of his advantage.
He gripped his weapon in one hand and kept his eyes trained for the intruder as he moved through the lower level. Taylor’s basement housed a fully equipped gym, rec room with pool table, bar and a movie theater, as well as a separate kitchen and two suites. Hell, her basement furnishings were nicer than anything he owned.
He slowly climbed the stairs, pausing to listen, but other than the hum of the air conditioner and the padding of his boots on the kitchen tiles as he eased through the breakfast room, the house was silent. He crossed the formal dining room, to the living room, to the office. Built-in bookshelves held a variety of titles, while the room held a state-of-the-art computer system, sitting area and conference table. Photographs of Taylor and her father, then Taylor at various charity functions, decorated the walls, along with award plaques and a framed diploma from a private school in Switzerland. She’d apparently earned a business degree and now ran the Landis Foundation.
So she was not only beautiful and rich but smart.
He stored that information while he checked the family room with fireplace and twelve-foot ceilings and a ballroom with Palladian windows which obviously was used to host her elaborate parties. He’d seen photographs of them in the society section of the newspaper.
A place where he wouldn’t be caught dead.
Finally, he found his way through a hallway to a bedroom suite the size of an apartment.
He wondered if this was Taylor’s suite, but saw no personal belongings in the room. Decorated in earth tones, it held a king-size brass bed, dresser, flat-screen TV and sitting room. A massive bath in gold and white with a Jacuzzi and dozens of plush towels overflowing a baker’s rack opened to a large walk-in closet.
The suite was empty, so he headed back to the foyer, then climbed the curved staircase, again pausing to listen. But he heard nothing. He still couldn’t relax, not until he’d searched every square inch of the house.
Taking a deep breath, he clenched his hand tighter around his gun and combed the suites to the left, then retraced his steps back to the bank of rooms on the right. In the first bedroom, a white four-poster bed draped in blue-and-white satin drew his eye.
Judging from the lived-in look and feminine furnishings, he guessed it was Taylor’s room. A black satin robe lay draped across the bed and a pair of slippers peeked from beneath the footboard. The room looked like her—tasteful, classy, soft.
For a moment, he imagined her sprawled on the satin sheets wearing nothing but a skimpy teddy or…nothing at all, and his body hardened with desire.
He quickly shook off the image. What in the hell was wrong with him?
An iPod and speaker system sat opposite the bed on a cluster of shelves holding candles, and in the corner a dresser held a silver brush and comb set and a jewelry box. He wondered if Taylor kept all her jewelry so accessible, but assumed she had a built-in safe somewhere in the house for her more expensive pieces. When she was released from the hospital, he’d have her check the house to see if anything was missing.
A bay window with chaise and reading lamp occupied one corner with a window seat separating two oversized chairs. He bypassed them and entered an elegant bath in blue and white, and a set of closets. Inside, he clenched his jaw at the sight of glittery gowns, expensive wraps, designer shoes and business suits. The second closet held Taylor’s casual clothes, he assumed, since it was filled with sundresses, slacks, designer sweaters, and one wall housed shelves holding bathing suits and summer wear.
He snarled. His yearly salary wouldn’t equal her monthly clothing allowance.
It didn’t matter. He had to focus on his mission.
The rooms were empty, and didn’t look as if they’d been touched by an intruder, meaning the perpetrator probably hadn’t attacked her with the intention of theft.
So not a break-in gone awry. The perp’s intentions had been more sinister—murder.
Moving on, he searched the other rooms, sighing as he descended the steps. Just as he was bypassing the office, he noticed a broken fingernail caught on the edge of the rug by the desk. He stooped and picked it up, wondering who it belonged to. The phone jangled so he bagged the fingernail, then hurried to the desk and checked the caller ID. An international call. Her father?
He picked up the receiver. “Taylor Landis’s residence.”
A long moment of silence. “Who in the hell is this?”
“Sergeant Hayes Keller, Texas Ranger. Whom am I speaking with?”
“Lionel Landis. What’s going on? Why are you at my daughter’s house? And why are you answering her phone?”
Hayes grimaced at the man’s condescending tone. But he had a right to know his daughter had been attacked. And Hayes had to explore every angle. If the assault on Taylor wasn’t related to Kimberly’s murder, it might have something to do with the wealthy Landis family. Then he’d need information on the family and their business dealings.
“Sir, I hate to have to tell you this, but your daughter was assaulted tonight.”
“What? My God, is she all right?”
“Yes, sir. But the paramedics transported her to the hospital for X-rays and observation.”
“I heard about those break-ins in the community. Was that what this was about?”
“I don’t know yet, but I can assure you I’ll find out.”
A long pause. “Maybe I should hire a bodyguard to watch her around the clock.”
Hayes clenched his jaw. Odd that her father didn’t offer to fly back to see her himself. Instead, he wanted to send hired help.
A private bodyguard would mean Hayes wouldn’t have to spend time with Taylor himself.
But damn. He was a ranger, and he had to finish this case, find the man who’d tried to kill Taylor. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Landis. I’ll personally provide protection for your daughter 24-7.”
He hung up the phone but noticed the desk drawer ajar and examined it. The bottom drawer had been jimmied, papers tossed around.
The killer had been in this room. He’d have CSI dust it for prints.
What had he been looking for?
EXHAUSTION WEIGHED ON TAYLOR as the nurse helped her settle into the hospital bed. She’d been treated, had blood drawn, undergone an EKG, then wheeled to X-ray where they’d x-rayed her chest and lungs. Thankfully all the tests were clear.
Other than nearly dying tonight, she was healthy.
Still, they’d hooked her up to an IV, checked her vitals, then the nurse offered her a sedative. But Taylor expected Sergeant Keller to show up any minute to question her, and she wanted to be coherent.
Besides, she avoided taking pills or medications unless it was absolutely necessary. Too many people she’d met at parties relied on drugs or alcohol for recreation and survival, and she was determined not to fall into that dangerous lifestyle so often portrayed in the tabloids as the rich and careless.
Still, fatigue pulled at her, and she finally dozed off. But nightmares of the attack haunted her, and she tossed and turned, battling the terrifying memories.
She was running, fighting, struggling for air, being pushed under the water, held down…drowning.
She woke, gasping for air, her heart racing. Gray had settled over the room like a fog, the sound of someone breathing echoing in the quiet. Panic shot through her.
Oh, God, her attacker had come here to finish killing her.
She threw off the covers to run, but suddenly two firm hands gripped her arms. “Shh, Taylor, it’s me. Hayes.”
She was just about to scream, but the sound of his husky voice registered, and she stifled a sob.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, but you were sleeping.”
She relaxed against him, but her heart was still pounding. “I was dreaming about the attack….”
He smoothed her hair from her cheek, then eased down onto the edge of the bed. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”
She nodded and forced herself to block out the terrifying images from her nightmare. Despite her efforts, her hand went to her throat.
“You didn’t find him at the house?” she asked.
He shook his head, and she noticed he was wearing the same jeans and shirt he had on when he’d pulled her from the pool. They were still damp, and he must be uncomfortable, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Your assailant caused the power outage by tampering with the circuit breakers, but I didn’t find anyone inside. CSI is dusting for prints and searching both the inside and outside, as well, for footprints, fibers, anything that might help us identify him.”
“He didn’t steal anything?”
“Not that I could tell. But you’ll need to inventory your valuables, jewelry, etcetera, to verify if anything is missing.”
“I’ll do that tomorrow when I get home.”
He gave a clipped nod. “The desk in your office had been ransacked. Do you have any idea what the intruder might have been looking for?”
She shook her head. “Maybe financial information on the foundation?”
“It’s possible. You should examine your files and follow up on any credit cards.”
She bit her lip. “Yes, I will.”
“I left a guard at the house overnight in case he returns or someone else shows up.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
“You can call me Hayes.” He hesitated, then his gaze zeroed in on her nails. “Your nails are real?”
She nodded. “Why?”
“I found a broken red nail, looked like an acrylic, inside your house.”
She frowned. “I often have guests over, females. It could have come from any one of them.”
“You’re sure your attacker was male?”
His question threw her off guard. “I think so.”
“I also found a blond hair caught in a twig in the tree by the garden.”
She rubbed her temple. “I have parties out there, too. It could belong to anyone.”
“I’ll see what forensics says.” He paused. “Can you talk about the attack now?”
She propped herself up against the pillows. “I told you what happened already.”
“Indulge me and go over it again. Sometimes the passage of time allows victims to remember more details.”
She sighed, hating to rehash the night but knowing it was imperative. “Okay. I got home around ten, but I was restless, antsy after all that’s happened in the neighborhood lately.” In fact, she hadn’t slept well since Kimberly McQuade had died. If she hadn’t hosted the party that night, maybe the young woman would still be alive.
She glanced at Hayes, suddenly realizing that he probably felt the same way, probably blamed her.
“Go on,” he said sharply.
She cleared her throat; it was still so dry it hurt to talk. “I couldn’t sleep, so I checked the alarm and changed into my swimsuit. Then I went for a swim.”
“Had you been drinking?”
Irritation gnawed at her. “I had a glass of wine with dinner, but I wasn’t drunk if that’s what you’re implying.”
“You usually swim alone at night?”
She tensed at the scrutiny in his tone. Did he think she was being stupid, that she’d brought the attack on herself? “Sometimes,” she said truthfully. “I’m a good swimmer, and I had the security system set.” She glared at him. “Besides, I thought you rangers had caught the killer and that I was safe.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, and she knew she’d scored a direct hit.
“Your attack may or may not be related to the other crimes,” he said sharply. “You’re wealthy, everyone knows that. You must have some enemies.”
She tore her gaze away with a shiver. If he’d meant to scare her, he had.
“Were the lights on when you came out by the pool?”
“Yes, Sergeant. I would have called security if they hadn’t been.”
He simply arched a dark brow, his expression cold and hard, and she silently willed herself to stop reacting. What did she care what Hayes Keller thought of her?
When she continued, she tried to relay the events as if it had happened to a stranger, not to her. “I was swimming laps when the power flickered off. I got nervous, decided to see what caused the outage, then I saw a movement by the gardens. I got out and ran toward the door…Before I reached it, the man jumped me from behind.” She paused, unable to breathe for a moment as she remembered his fingers around her throat.
Again, the ranger stared at her with an intensity that made her more nervous.
She could not break down in front of the man again. “We struggled and he tried to strangle me, then we fell into the pool.”
“He fell into the pool with you?”
