“I think we understand each other now.” I smirked and yanked open my car door.
But as I slid into my seat, Adair said in a soft, menacing tone, “You hurt my family, Ms. Penhaligon, and I’ll make sure you pay for it.”
With the hard sincerity of his words ringing in my ears, I watched the big bastard stride into his castle and cursed him for getting in the last word.
3
Lachlan
Still seething from the encounter with Mac’s so-called daughter, Lachlan decided he was no company for his club members. It was better to hide in his real office than his stage office until he got his irritation under control. Hearing laughter from one of the social rooms off the entrance, he skirted past and strode toward the door that led into the staff-only area of the castle.
Robyn Penhaligon’s face floated across Lachlan’s vision. Smug, conniving witch, threatening to tell Mac on him. Like they were five-year-olds on the goddamn playground.
Still, a niggle of unease gnawed at him.
Perhaps he had stepped over the line.
As much as he wanted to protect Mac from a woman who might be just as unforgiving as her mother, it was her father’s place to decide whether Robyn stayed at Ardnoch.
But Mac had a lot on his mind. They all did. The last thing they needed was an estranged and resentful daughter getting in their way.
To be fair, Lachlan was already in a shitty mood that morning before Robyn surprised Mac. His publicist had called him; she also happened to be his brother’s publicist. Gwen shared a link to a US tabloid that had published photographs last night of his brother, Brodan, in a drunken brawl with doormen at a Los Angeles nightclub.
Lachlan didn’t know what to do with him. When he’d warned Brodan about following his big brother to Hollywood, Brodan promised he could handle the pressure and notoriety.
Lately, his antics suggested otherwise.
On top of their other situation, Lachlan felt like he was failing. That feeling of powerlessness may have contributed to his behavior toward Robyn Penhaligon. That, and something about the arrogant tilt of her chin, had set him off.
Lachlan’s phone rang in his back pocket, and when he pulled it out, Mac’s name lit up the screen. Christ, had she made good on her promise already? “Mac,” he answered, drawing to a stop in the narrow hallway that led to their offices.
“Delivery entrance. Now.”
Dread filled him. “Not another?”
“Just get here.” Mac hung up.
Case in point.
He ground his teeth. And then hurried down the corridors that led through their busy kitchen and into the hallway to the delivery entrance. Staff hovered in the kitchen doorway, murmuring to one another. Worry and tension hung heavily in the air.
“Haven’t you all got work to do?” Lachlan demanded. Their expressions turned sheepish in response. “Well?”
“You heard Mr. Adair!” his sous chef, Raffaella, yelled in her Italian accent as his kitchen staff skittered away from the door. “Back to work!”
Leaving her to deal with them, he followed the cool breeze blowing up the hall as daylight streamed in from where the delivery entrance door was shoved wide open.
Mac stood outside it with Pete and Jock, two of their security men. Lachlan’s head of security looked up as he slowly approached. “Prepare yourself. It’s not pretty.”
The smell hit him first, and he swallowed hard against the urge to gag.
“Fuck,” he muttered as his eyes lowered to the ground.
A once-beautiful, small doe lay slaughtered at the door entrance, her entrails spilled onto the gravel, a bunch of red roses nestled by her carcass. Lachlan looked up at Mac.
He held out a white card. Noting Mac wore gloves to touch it, Lachlan didn’t take it from him.
But reading it, his concern increased tenfold.
You were once so very dear to me.
But now so very dead to me.
xoxo
“Again, it’s not specifically addressed to anyone.”
Mac sighed. “We’re going on the assumption here, like the others, the message is for you.”
“I don’t care about me.” He glowered. “But I do care about the safety of my staff and my members. The last incident was the start of something darker here, Mac. This, however … it’s time to call the police.”
Mac cut his men a look before addressing Lachlan. “Just give us a little more time to figure it out. It’s better to go to the police with a culprit so that when it does hit the news, the estate members are assured it’s dealt with and they’re safe.”
“We shouldn’t keep this from them. They already know something is amiss. And Lucy is well aware.” Though she’d promised to keep it to herself. “Not to mention, we can’t guarantee a staff member won’t let this slip.”
“If they talk about anything on the estate with a member or outsider, it’s breach of contract.” Mac told him something he already knew. “Unless they want a lawsuit on their hands, they won’t talk.”
Lachlan scowled. Those contracts were drawn up with the thought of gossip and scandal, not some unknown person leaving sick messages for the estate’s owner.
“Just give me time,” Mac said. “I don’t want you to lose everything over this. My men and I can do it.”
“We can,” Jock and Pete spoke in unison.
Lachlan wasn’t convinced. “How did this happen?” He gestured to the carcass and then looked up at the camera angled above the door. There were cameras at every entrance. “Do we have footage of the culprit?”
Mac’s frustration was palpable, and Lachlan knew the answer before he spoke.
Cutting Jock and Pete a look, he gestured to the grounds. “Would you give us some privacy, gentlemen?”
With abrupt nods, they turned on their heels and moved to leave.
“Be back in two to take this bonny beast to McCulloch. See if Collum can salvage her. Make her death worth something.”
“McCulloch?” Lachlan raised an eyebrow. Collum McCulloch’s family had farmed the land north of Ardnoch for generations. He and Lachlan’s father had a bitter history, which had trickled down into his
