Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
J uliette needed time to move her things, so he was in charge of filming the following day while she went back to her parents’ place and packed. He’d asked her if she needed help, but she’d assured him all she was bringing over were some clothes and some necessities.
He spent a while setting up the cameras where the workers would be that day and adjusted the last camera settings, making sure everything was in place before he left the top floor.
The workers were scattered throughout the house, hammering, drilling, and moving materials up and down the stairs as they worked on finishing the second-floor renovations. The sounds of construction filled the space—familiar, almost comforting.
Would the place be too quiet once they were gone? He doubted it. There was still the soothing sound of the waves below them.
Max took a moment to check in with Palmer, who was standing near the base of the stairs, studying a blueprint while one of the workers measured along the railing.
“Hey,” Max called out over the noise of drills and hammers.
Palmer looked up. “What’s up?”
Max motioned towards the plans. “I was thinking about changing the design for the tile in the upstairs bathrooms. The tile I originally picked for the third bath isn’t sitting right with me. It’s a little too modern for the rest of the house.”
Palmer scratched his beard. “Got a replacement in mind?”
“Yeah, I saw some hand-painted tiles from a company out of Portland. They’re a little more classic, a little rustic. I’ll send you the link.”
Palmer nodded. “Sounds good. We haven’t ordered the tile for that bathroom yet, so it’s an easy swap.”
Max gestured towards the staircase. “While we’re at it, can we fix a few of these rungs? I noticed some of them feel a little loose.”
Palmer tapped the wooden banister. “I had that on my list. We’ll get them secured before the end of the day.”
Max gave a satisfied nod, then took a last look around before heading to set up the last of his cameras.
Shortly after lunch, he decided it was time to conquer decluttering the basement. If the men were going to start on his wine cellar the following week, they needed access to the space. They’d already been down there working on electric, plumbing, and even the foundation, but they hadn’t needed full access like would to build walls.
Moving through the kitchen, he made his way to the pantry closet, were the entrance to the basement was. There were a lot of items to move out of the space and into the barn so the next phase of work could be done.
He stepped inside and flicked on the dim basement light.
The air grew cooler as he descended the creaky wooden stairs, which probably needed to be rebuilt. He knew that there was another entrance to the space from the outside that was padlocked shut.
He thought there might be another way down to this level, but so far he hadn’t found it. Then again, there was so much clutter in the space that it was hard to get a full assessment of the area.
The scent of old wood and dust filled his nose, and he sneezed once or twice as he descended the stairs.
This part of the basement was massive, stretching almost the entire length of the house. There was another side of the basement, under the lighthouse, that wasn’t attached to this portion. It was filled with all the mechanicals and replacement parts for the lighthouse.
His plan for this part was to convert a large section into a wine cellar, keeping the rustic charm of the old stone walls while modernizing the storage. For now, though, it was cluttered with forgotten furniture, stacks of dusty boxes, and an eerie stillness that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
He switched on the single overhead bulb at the base of the stairs, which barely cast enough light to cut through the shadows. Palmer and his crew would be installing new lighting, plumbing, climate control, and shelving for the section he was going to store his wine in.
He walked towards the far wall, where he planned to install the wine racks, mentally going over measurements.
Then he heard it.
A floorboard from the stairs creaked.
He turned, expecting to see one of the workers. “Hey, do you need something?”
No answer.
His pulse ticked up a notch as he peered through the dim light. The space was too dark, too quiet. Maybe someone had just stepped inside but hadn’t heard him.
Then, before he could react, pain exploded at the back of his head.
A sharp, blinding agony overtook him, and his knees buckled as the world spun. He barely had time to process what had happened before everything went black.
Minutes or hours later, the distant sound of voices pulled him from the darkness. His head throbbed, and as he tried to move, he realized he was lying on the cold basement floor, half-covered in dust.
“Max?”
Juliette’s voice. Urgent. Worried.
He blinked against the dim light, wincing as he tried to sit up. “Here…” he croaked. His throat was very dry.
Then she was there, dropping to her knees beside him, her hands on his face, checking for injuries.
“Oh my god, we’ve been looking everywhere.” She hugged him.
He reached up, feeling the back of his head. His fingers came away slightly damp, and when he looked, he saw the smear of blood.
“Someone was down here,” he muttered. “I—I didn’t see who.”
Juliette’s face paled. “We need to get you upstairs.”
As she helped him up, the realization settled deep in his chest. Someone had attacked him.
And whoever it was… could still be there.
With her help, he climbed the stairs and sat in a chair at the kitchen table. When she rushed over to grab the towel for his head, he glanced out the window and realized that it was almost dark outside.
“How long was I down there?” he asked.
She glanced at her watch. “It’s almost five now. When did you go into the basement?” She handed him the towel and then rushed to the freezer to get a bag of frozen peas. “I’m calling Doctor Stevens,” she said after he placed the cold bag on the bump on the back of his head.
He groaned. “No, I’m…” He stopped when she gave him a look, the kind that said he’d better shut up and not argue the fact that he was going to be seen by a doctor no matter what.
He sat and waited as she talked on the phone.
“There you are.” Palmer came into the kitchen. “Dude, are you okay?” He sat across from him. “We’ve been looking for you for almost an hour.”
“Basement.” He motioned and then felt his head spin.
“What happened?” Palmer asked.
“Someone hit me over the head,” he answered, closing his eyes.
“What? Seriously?”
“Yeah. Right after lunch, I went down there to start hauling all that stuff out so your men can begin work down there next week and then wham.” He sighed. “I guess I’ve been down there since then.”
“We only realized you were missing about an hour ago, when Juliette showed up. We thought maybe you’d gone to help her move her things over.”
He shook his head. “Was there anyone else in the house today that you saw? Besides your crew?” he asked. He kept his eyes shut since it helped settle his stomach.
This wasn’t like the first time he’d hit his head on the cabinet. This time the pain had easily reached a ten out of ten.
“No, but I can ask around and see if any of my crew saw anyone else,” Palmer said, and then the room went quiet.
Juliette was back and took his hand. “Dr. Stevens is on his way. He thinks you should go to the hospital and have some scans.” He opened his mouth to argue, but she stopped him. “I convinced him to come over here instead.”
“Thanks.” He leaned his head back.
“Did you see who hit you?” she asked, touching the side of his face with a wet cloth. “I’m just cleaning up some of the blood.”
“No, they snuck up behind me. It was dark.”
“Do you think it was one of Palmer’s men?” she whispered.
“No,” he said after a moment of thinking.
“But you didn’t see them?”
“No,” he said again.
“None of my guys saw anyone else on the property,” Palmer said, coming back into the room. “But we had a few men clock out early. I’ve sent them text messages asking. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“Are you sure you didn’t just bump your head on something?” Palmer asked.
“Pretty sure.” He motioned to the spot on his head and heard Palmer wince. “Yeah, that doesn’t look good.” He heard him move closer. “Looks like you were hit with something. I’ll head to the basement and check it out. Where did you find him?”
“Along the side wall. To the left of the stairs,” Juliette answered. “Behind a row of boxes by an old dresser.”
He remembered falling against the dresser before hitting the ground and glanced at his elbow. There was a large dark bruise in the spot he’d hit.
“That doesn’t look too bad,” Juliette told him as she took his arm and looked at the bruise.
“It’s from the dresser. I remember hitting it before passing out.”
Just then Dr. Stevens walked in, one of the workers showing him the way.
“Thanks, Brian,” Dr. Stevens told the man and then moved over to check on him.
For the next half hour he was examined and, to his surprise, stitched up with four stitches.
“I’d like it better if you went to the ER in Edgeview,” Dr. Stevens said. “For now, I’ll settle for you being watched very closely for the next twelve hours.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Juliette chimed in. “I technically just moved in.” She smiled at the doctor, who nodded.
“Fine, but call me if anything changes. You know the drill. After all, this isn’t your first bump on the head.”
Max chuckled. “This time it wasn’t my fault.”
“Right,” Dr. Stevens said. “You should call Aiden. Report it officially.”
He nodded in agreement.
“I’ve already called him,” Juliette said. “Right after I called you.” She touched his hand.
Palmer had come back up from the basement and had been standing across the room waiting.
“I found what you were hit with,” he broke in.
“What?” Juliette and Max asked at the same time.
“A pipe wrench.” He nodded towards the door. “I left it there for Aiden in case there are prints or other clues he can use to find out who hit you.”
“Yeah, a pipe wrench would fit the bill,” Dr. Stevens said, moving over to the sink to clean up. He dumped the bloody gauze into the trash.
“Why?” Juliette whispered.
“Well, it’s all over the news about that actress telling the world there’s a missing diamond in this place. All anyone has to do is beat you to the punch.” Palmer sighed. “FYI, my men have a bet going on who will find it.” He shook his head. “Trust me, if they did, you’d be the first to know. Finders are not keepers in this case.”
“Thanks,” Max said absently.
“I guess we need to bump up our security around here,” Aiden said from the doorway. “Show Nick what you found,” he said to Palmer. After the two men disappeared back through the pantry, Aiden jotted down everything that had happened as he and Juliette explained.
Max sat, his head still throbbing despite Dr. Stevens’ earlier assurances that he didn’t have a concussion—just a nasty lump. Juliette hadn’t left his side since she’d found him in the basement, and he was grateful for it. Her presence kept him grounded, even as frustration gnawed at him.
Dr. Stevens packed up his bag and stood, giving Max a pointed look. “Take it easy for the rest of the night. No sudden movements, no heavy lifting. If you feel dizzy or nauseous, get checked out at the hospital.”
Max nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Doc.”
The man gave him a curt nod before heading for the door. Aiden stepped aside to let him pass, then turned back to them. “Alright, let’s go over this again. From the beginning.”
Juliette sat close beside Max, her hand still resting lightly on his arm. “I’d just arrived around three thirty and went looking for Max to help me carry my things in. When I couldn’t find him, I asked around and when one of the workers realized they hadn’t seen him in a while, we started looking. It took almost an hour before I finally found him in the basement, unconscious.” Her voice trembled slightly, and Max hated that this had shaken her so much. “I almost missed him. If I hadn’t seen his shoes sticking out from behind the dresser…”
Aiden nodded, jotting notes. “And you didn’t see or hear anything before you got hit?”
Max exhaled slowly, replaying the moment in his head. “I’d just walked in, was checking out the old furniture and boxes, trying to decide what to move out first, when I heard someone come in behind me. I figured it was one of the workers—then bam, lights out.” He frowned, flexing his fingers. “Whoever it was didn’t take anything. My wallet, phone, everything is still on me.”
Aiden’s jaw tensed. “That’s what’s bothering me. If it was a thief, why not at least take something? And if it was someone trying to find the diamond, as Palmer pointed out…”
Before Max could respond, Palmer returned with Nick. Nick looked grim, holding up a large red pipe wrench in a bag. “This was underneath the old dresser. Hard to tell, but it appears a few boxes were gone through. Max, you’d know better if things were moved around down there.”
“Any idea who this belongs to?” Aiden asked Palmer.
“Sure do, it’s mine. I have my business initials etched in all of my tools so they don’t walk off a job site.” He motioned to the tool. “But any of my workers, or anyone else for that matter, could have picked it up from one of the toolboxes while we weren’t looking.”
“Right.” Aiden nodded.
Max leaned forward, ignoring the way his head protested. “So what’s the next move?”
Aiden tucked the tool into a black bag. “First, let’s make sure we lock everything up tight at night.” He shot Max a pointed look, “And yeah, it might be time to step up security. Palmer knows how to install a pretty nice security system, if it’s within your budget.”
Max sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Already on our list.”
“I’ll start first thing in the morning,” Palmer said.
Juliette squeezed his hand, her expression firm. “We’ll figure this out.”
He met her gaze and found himself believing her. No matter what—or who—was behind this, they weren’t going to let it ruin everything he’d just gained. Her. Here with him.