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IT WAS THE sound of shattering glass that woke her.
Audra shot bolt upright in bed, heart pounding, praying that the sound had been a part of one of her frequent nightmares, but knowing deep down in her bones—in all the places where she knew such things were real—that it wasn’t.
A thump followed. Something heavy being dropped to the floor. And then a low, jeering voice. The sound of cupboard doors opening and closing.
She’d locked all the doors and windows downstairs! She’d been hyper-vigilant about such things ever since she’d arrived two days ago. She glanced at her bedroom window, at the curtain moving slowly on a draught of warm night air, and called herself a fool for leaving it open. Anyone could have climbed up onto the first-floor balcony and gained entry.
Slipping out of bed, she grabbed her phone and held it pressed hard against her chest as she crept out into the hallway. As the only person in residence in Rupert’s Greek villa, she’d seen no reason to close her bedroom door, which at least meant she didn’t have to contend with the sound of it creaking open now.
She’d chosen the bedroom at the top of the stairs and from this vantage point she could see a shadow bounce in and out of view from the downstairs living room. She heard Rupert’s liquor cabinet being opened and the sound of a glass bottle being set down. Thieves were stealing her brother’s much-loved single malt whisky?
Someone downstairs muttered something in... French?
She didn’t catch what was said.
Someone answered back in Greek.
She strained her ears, but could catch no other words. So...there were two of them? She refused to contemplate what would happen if they found her here—a lone woman. Swallowing down a hard knot of fear, she made her way silently down the hallway, away from the stairs, to the farthest room along—the master bedroom. The door made the softest of snicks as she eased it closed. In the moonlight she made out the walk-in wardrobe on the other side of the room and headed straight for it, closing that door behind her, fighting to breathe through the panic that weighed her chest down.
She dialled the emergency number. ‘Please help me,’ she whispered in Greek. ‘Please. There are intruders in my house.’ She gave her name. She gave the address. The operator promised that someone was on the way and would be there in minutes. She spoke in reassuringly calm tones. She asked Audra where in the house she was, and if there was anywhere she could hide. She told Audra to stay on the line and that helped too.
‘I’m hiding in the walk-in wardrobe in the master bedroom.’ And that was when it hit her. She was all but locked in a closet. Again. It made no difference that this time she’d locked herself in. Panic clawed at her throat as she recalled the suffocating darkness and the way her body had started to cramp after hours spent confined in her tiny hall closet. When Thomas had not only locked her in, but had left and she hadn’t known if he would ever return to let her out again. And if he didn’t return, how long would it take for anyone to find her? How long before someone raised the alarm? She’d spent hours in a terrified limbo—after screaming herself hoarse for help—where she’d had to fight for every breath. ‘I can’t stay here.’
‘The police are almost there,’ the operator assured her.
She closed her eyes. This wasn’t her horridly cramped hall closet, but a spacious walk-in robe. It didn’t smell of damp leather and fuggy cold. This smelled of...the sea. And she could stretch out her full length and not touch the other wall if she wanted to. Anger, cold and comforting, streaked through her then. Her eyes flew open. She would not be a victim again. Oh, she wasn’t going to march downstairs and confront those two villains ransacking her brother’s house, but she wasn’t going to stay here, a cornered quaking mess either.
Her free hand clenched to a fist. Think! If she were a thief, what would she steal?
Electrical equipment—televisions, stereos and computers. Which were all downstairs. She grimaced. Except for the television on the wall in the master bedroom.
She’d bet they’d look for jewellery too. And where was the most likely place to find that? The master bedroom.
She needed to find a better hiding place—one that had an escape route if needed.
And she needed a weapon. Just in case. She didn’t rate her chances against two burly men, but she could leave some bruises if they did try to attack her. She reminded herself that the police would be here soon.
For the first time since arriving in this island idyll, Audra cursed the isolation of Rupert’s villa. It was the last property on a peninsula surrounded by azure seas. The glorious sea views, the scent of the ocean and gardens, the sound of lapping water combined with the humming of bees and the chattering of the birds had started to ease the burning in her soul. No media, no one hassling her for an interview, no flashing cameras whenever she strode outside her front door. The privacy had seemed like a godsend.
Until now.
Using the torch app on her phone, she scanned the wardrobe for something she could use to defend herself. Her fingers closed about a lacrosse stick. It must’ve been years since Rupert had played, and she had no idea what he was still doing with a stick now, but at the moment she didn’t care.
Cracking open the wardrobe door, she listened for a full minute before edging across the room to the glass sliding door of the balcony. She winced at the click that seemed to echo throughout the room with a come-and-find-me din when she unlocked it, but thanked Rupert’s maintenance man when it slid open on its tracks as silent as the moon. She paused and listened again for another full minute before easing outside and closing the door behind her. Hugging the shadows of the wall, she moved to the end of the balcony and inserted herself between two giant pot plants. The only way anyone would see her was if they came right out onto the balcony and moved in this direction. She gripped the lacrosse stick so tightly her fingers started to ache.
She closed her eyes and tried to get her breathing under control. The thieves would have no reason to come out onto the balcony. There was nothing to steal out here. And she doubted they’d be interested in admiring the view, regardless of how spectacular it might be. The tight band around her chest eased a fraction.
The flashing lights from the police car that tore into the driveway a moment later eased the tightness even further. She counted as four armed men piled out of the vehicle and headed straight inside. She heard shouts downstairs.
But still she didn’t move.
After a moment she lifted the phone to her ear. ‘Is it...is it safe to come out yet?’ she whispered.
‘One of the men has been apprehended. The officers are searching for the second man.’ There was a pause. ‘The man they have in custody claims he’s on his own.’
She’d definitely heard French and Greek.
‘He also says he’s known to your brother.’
‘Known?’ She choked back a snort. ‘I can assure you that my brother doesn’t associate with people who break into houses.’
‘He says his name is Finn Sullivan.’
Audra closed her eyes. Scrap that. Her brother knew one person who broke into houses, and his name was Finn Sullivan.
* * *
Finn swore in French, and then in Greek for good measure, when he knocked the crystal tumbler from the bench to the kitchen tiles below, making a God-awful racket that reverberated through his head. It served him right for not switching on a light, but