Chapter 18
JULIA
A pulse of anxiety rushed through Julia as her eyes fell onto the envelope in Grant’s hand. She didn’t miss the slight tremor as he opened it and slid the note from within. Julia tightened her grip on his arm, a silent statement of support as he faced whatever had been delivered.
The way his breath caught made her assume it wouldn’t be good.
Julia leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper, “What does it say?”
Her gaze never left the note, reflecting her concern and curiosity.
Alex rose and peered over Grant’s other shoulder. Grant gave him a questioning glance.
“Sorry,” Alex said as he took a step back. “Just curious.”
Grant’s voice carried a weight as he hissed, “This…This is Lydia’s handwriting.”
The hesitation in his admission added layers to his relationship with Lydia.
The words sent a chill snaking down her spine.
After everything they’d been through, she assumed Lydia’s death would free them, but it seemed she’d sent one last blow for them to deal with.
Her heart dropped as she wondered if it had to do with the information Lydia had revealed to her before the fire.
She was still seeking information on that front, and she’d prefer not to put it in Grant’s mind unless it had merit.
Her eyes widened as she scanned the page, searching for the gist of the note. It instructed him to open the box first.
A knot tightened in Julia’s stomach, the anticipation of the box’s contents sending a shiver down her spine as she imagined the myriad of possibilities hidden within.
With cautious precision, Grant peeled away the brown paper shroud to unveil an old key, the room’s dim light making it glow. The intricately designed bow featured a labyrinth of fine engravings depicting illustrations of power and wealth.
Grant,
Behold the key to my kingdom, a realm far beyond your reach, but now yours to bear. But beware, this is no gift. It’s a chain that will bind you to the fate that I must have fallen prey to since you are holding this note.
You thought yourself a conqueror, but you highly overestimated your value. This key unlocked my power, and allowed me to begin my journey to ruin you. A journey that seems to have been cut short.
Let this key be a reminder of the war we waged, a war that will now come to your doorstep with more vengeance than I ever could. My enemies will ensure that you are destroyed. They will finish what I could not.
This key will be your doom. I sent it to you not in defeat, but as the architect of your undoing. You will be hunted. And you will finally meet your end. Know in those final moments, that it was I who crafted your downfall with every scorned breath. I will be awaiting you in Hell.
In eternal contempt,
Lydia
As Julia poured over Lydia’s venomous words, a storm of thoughts raged within her. Her mind whirled with questions as she shifted her gaze from the scathing note to the enigmatic key.
Grant reached for it, but she blocked his hand. “Wait. Don’t touch it. It could be a trap.”
Grant exhaled a weary sigh, his frustration evident. “One final trap set by a woman who can’t let it go. This is ridiculous.”
He shoved the note back into its envelope and tossed it down onto the key in the box. “She really can’t resist twisting the knife one final time, can she?”
Julia grabbed the envelope and tugged the note free, reading it again.
“Let it go, Julia. There’s no truth in any of this. This is Lydia trying to have one final taunt.”
Julia scanned the words again, something not sitting right with her about them. A flash lit the room as Alex snapped a picture of it.
“Hey,” Grant said, “what are you doing?”
“Documenting. We have no idea what this could be,” Alex said.
“It’s nothing.” Grant grabbed the note from Julia and tossed it in the box. He shoved it toward Worthington. “Get rid of this. I never want to see it again. Lydia’s gone. Her little games are over.”
“Yes, sir,” Worthington said with a nod.
Julia stared after him as he disappeared from the room.
“Now, let’s do something proactive and review this footage, shall we?” Grant asked, his tone clipped with annoyance.
“Right.” Julia nodded, her voice tentative. “Yes, let’s do that.”
“Julia, put that ridiculous note out of your mind. It’s just Lydia being Lydia. Like when she showed up on our vacation or decided to live here,” Grant said.
“You’re right,” she answered as Alex passed her an open laptop. “Here’s footage of the traffic camera on the street fronting her place. See if you notice parties of interest.”
She settled in an armchair as Grant dragged another over next to her. They scanned the footage, not finding anyone of interest coming or going. After over an hour, she sighed as she shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Try the other feed. There’s one with a really tiny view of a back door there. It’s just barely on the screen but you may find something.”
Julia clicked around on the computer to select the other traffic camera feed. “Wow, that is really tiny.”
“I know. There’s no better angle,” Alex said, never looking up from his computer as his fingers clacked.
Julia played the video, speeding through some of the early hours before Lydia’s death. “Do we know her estimated time of death?”
“Yes,” Alex said. “Just a second.”
“How? The police were waiting on the report,” Grant said. “No one told us, and as far as I know it hasn’t been reported.”
“No, it hasn’t been,” Alex said. “Which means nothing to me.”
Windows flashed around on his screen before he finally settled on a document. “Estimated time of death from the preliminary ME’s report is between the hours of seven and nine.”
“And we know Sierra left just before eight. So, someone killed her between eight and nine.” Julia sped the video to just before eight. “Ugh, this is not the best angle.”
Alex’s phone rang as they reviewed the footage. “Hey, Sparky, what’s the good word?”
Grant slid his eyes sideways before he glanced at Julia. “Sparky?” he whispered.
“Ava,” Julia answered, her eyes never leaving the screen.
Grant sucked in a breath as he studied the man again before he returned to eyeing the footage.
“Uh-huh…No, that’s not good. Well, I’m in the middle of a situation here…A few hours…Not yet.”
Julia caught a fleeting glimpse of worry in Alex’s eyes. She offered him a consoling smile, concern for Ava growing inside her, too.
“As soon as I can, I will…Yep…Chill, Avs, we’ll handle it.” He twisted in his seat, lowering his voice to a hiss. “I said we’ll handle it…Yes, I know that…Yes…Talk to you then.”
He tossed the phone on the desk with a shake of his head. His eyes raised to them, and he focused on Grant. “Wives, am I right, Big G?”
Grant cleared his throat. “I hope everything’s okay.”
“Ava’s got it under control.”
Julia’s voice softened, her concern manifesting. “Grant’s right…if there’s trouble brewing that needs your attention–”
“Careful, Sunshine, my ego is getting bruised.”
She chuckled at the joke before she answered. “We really appreciate your help, but not at Ava’s expense.”
“Ava is a big girl. She’s just frustrated. Let’s finish what we’re doing here.”
Julia pressed her lips together as she eyed Grant. They shared a questioning glance before she shrugged and returned to the screen. She let the video play until well after nine. With a sigh, she shook her head. “There’s nothing here.”
“It was a long shot. I’ll keep digging at the security company to see if I can find any clues the hacker left behind.”
Julia closed the top of the laptop and set it on the table in front of her. “What kind of clues would a hacker leave?”
“Sometimes there are breadcrumbs. Sometimes they’re stupid enough to leave a calling card.”
“A calling card?” Grant asked as he rose and tugged the chair back into place.
Alex continued to pound on his keys. “Yes. Some of these jokers will actually leave a digital trail behind taking credit for the act.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because they believe that only someone as smart as them will find it.” Alex centered his gaze on Grant. “And they believe no one is as smart as them.”
“Okay, uh, well, good luck. Let’s hope they did that,” Grant said. “I guess we’ll leave you to it unless there’s anything else we can do.”
Alex continued to tap at his keyboard. “No. Get some sleep. I’ll keep at it for a few more hours. Do not knock on my door before eleven.”
“Right. I’ll let Worthington know,” Grant said as he slipped his hand around Julia’s and tugged her toward the door.
“Thanks, Alex. See you tomorrow,” Julia said before they stepped into the hall.
Grant heaved a sigh as he wrapped his arm around her. “He is so strange.”
“He’s not. He’s very nice to help us like this.”
“I know,” Grant said, his voice apologetic, “but he is kind of weird. What was that business with his wife?”
Julia shrugged as her eyebrows knitted. “I don’t know. But I hope they get it sorted out. Hey, I’m going to check on Kyle, okay?”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll skip that. After all of today’s tension, I think I’ll save a visit with him for tomorrow.”
“That’s fine,” she said with a smile.
They parted ways, and Julia meandered through the quiet, dimly lit halls toward Kyle’s room. She found his door partially closed, and no lights shone from within. She peeked inside, finding him comfortably asleep.
As she pulled the door almost closed, her mind flipped to the odd note and key. Why had Lydia sent it with the ominous warning?
Grant dismissed it, but Julia’s mind refused to let go of the frightening message. Lydia’s threats were never idle. And while they’d managed to stave off any attempt to ruin the Harrington family in the past two years, she worried they’d miss the last play.
With her mind whirling and her footsteps hurried, she navigated to the kitchen, hoping to find Worthington. Unfortunately, she found the darkened space empty.
She flicked on a light and crossed to the trash can near the island and opened the lid. She stared down into an empty white bag.
A curse escaped her as she let the lid fall. She chewed her lower lip, spinning to lean against the counter as she drummed her fingers against her forearm.
With a shake of her head, she tugged open a drawer and found a flashlight. She pushed through the door into the courtyard outside the kitchen, flicking on the light. The large trash bin sat tucked behind the well-placed bushes.
She crossed to it and tossed the lid open. The putrid scent of rotting trash filled her nostrils, triggering her gag reflex. She shined the light into the bin, hoping to find the box and its contents on top.
Unfortunately, she didn’t. Her heart sank. With a groan, she reached inside and sifted through a few items.
Her hope waned and her grimace grew as she shoved a few more items around. Her heart leapt as she spotted the unmarked envelope. She snatched it, pulling the note from it to confirm it was the one she sought.
With a grin, she shoved it into her pocket and continued to sort through. She finally found the box, but it had toppled and the key was missing.
The weight of the item probably made it sink to the bottom. She let her head drop back between her shoulders. She was going to have to dig deep to find it, literally and figuratively.
She’d never reach the bottom without tipping the can over. With gritted teeth, she wrangled it from its spot and tipped it over. A few items spilled out.
She propped the lid open and sorted through the items deeper in the bag.
Her fingers finally hit metal. She latched onto it and pulled it out, grinning as she spotted the key.
After flicking a piece of wilted lettuce from it, she set it in the box with the note, yanked the trash bin upright and back into its spot, and tossed the escaped items.
With her prize in hand, she returned the flashlight, washed her hands, and carried the box upstairs to her office. She settled into the supple leather of her desk chair, switching on her desk lamp. Its warm glow cast deep shadows across the room.
She read the note again, trying to glean any details from it. “Key to my kingdom,” she whispered before she grabbed it, studying it closer. “What were you up to, Lydia?”
Was this merely a trick? One last game to make them chase their tails or did it have some nefarious ties?
“You will be hunted,” she read as she raised the key into the light. “Why? What do you lead to?”
She narrowed her eyes at the engravings on the bow. Were they random squiggles surrounding those symbols or something more?
Her fingers traced the etchings as her tired eyes threatened to close. Her mind tried to fill in the gaps and make the connections she needed to make, but before she could, her head sank into the leather behind her. She drifted to sleep with the key clutched in her hand.
Her wild dreams were filled with confrontations with Lydia, centering on her last one in the Victorian manor. Fire raged around her as she tried to escape, finding her way blocked at every turn.
As she sank to her knees, a sob escaping her, her body shook.
She startled away with a gasp, struggling to orient herself.
“Julia,” Kyle hissed as he hovered in front of her.
She sucked in a breath, trying to slow her racing heart.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, just a bad dream.”
“Did you sleep here last night?”
“I must have dozed off while trying to track down a lead.”
“On what?” Kyle asked as he pulled over a chair and sank into it, taking her pulse.
She slapped at his hand. “Stop that. I’m not sick. Grant got a note from Lydia last night and a key. He thinks it’s one last desperate attempt at a power play but…”
“But Lydia rarely plays games that don’t have a point,” Kyle answered.
“Right,” she said with a nod as he slid the note from the desk.
He flicked his eyebrows up as he read. “Wow, that’s intense. Who are her enemies?”
“Whoever killed her, I’m guessing. I feel like this key quite literally is the key to all of this.” She held it up in the air, the metal sparkling in the late morning sunlight.
“Well, I’d be happy to help you sort through this. But there’s something we need to talk about first.”
She snapped her gaze to him, setting the key on the desk. “Are you okay? Did your stitches open more?”
“I’m fine,” he answered. “But speaking of Lydia’s games. I have the DNA results. I thought you’d want to know right away.”
Julia’s stomach twisted into a knot at the words. Would Lydia’s admission to her turn out to be true? Was it merely a desperate attempt to lash out or one final way to rip the Harringtons apart?