Chapter 19
When Cadie arrived, Stratton House was quiet.
She parked on the street in front of the building and sat for a moment with her hands on the steering wheel.
The morning light fell across the facade in pale, angled stripes, catching the ornate ironwork and the tall windows that had always reminded her of a cathedral.
The building looked the way it always had, stately and beautiful, even in its decline.
There were no other cars parked along the curb, and there wasn't any sign of Jaxon Boone. Cadie got out of the car and locked it behind her.
She was early. Jaxon would probably arrive shortly. Cadie pulled her keys from her bag and went to the front door. The lock turned with the familiar resistance she had come to know over the past weeks, and she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The interior was cool and still. The grand entrance hall stretched before her with its high ceilings and ornate plasterwork. Cadie closed the door behind her and listened but didn't hear anything.
She walked deeper into the hall. Her footsteps were the only sound, a soft rhythm on the hardwood that echoed faintly off the high ceiling.
She passed the doorways to the smaller rooms on either side of the hall.
The teaching studios and storage spaces were empty.
She stopped at her aunt's office to drop off her purse and jacket.
It seemed odd being in the room when it was so quiet.
Cadie still had a few minutes, so she went to the performance hall at the end of the corridor.
It opened before her with rows of seating and the stage at the far end.
She stepped onto the stage and walked toward the back corner, to the grand piano.
She moved closer, then sat on the bench and placed her hands on the keys without pressing them.
The keys were cool beneath her fingers. She closed her eyes and let the stillness surround her.
Soon she would be home, playing with the band again.
But for now, music would have to wait. She got off the stage, noticing that it was still quiet.
She went out to the hall then down to the main event room.
It was a large room that could be rented out.
It was mostly empty except for a couple of rows of chairs near the front.
Cadie was curious about the kind of events that had been held there. She walked into the room, up to the front, and looked back at the chairs.
Then she heard footsteps. They were deliberate and unhurried, the sound of hard-soled shoes on the wooden floor of the corridor. A figure stepped through the doorway, but it wasn't Jaxon Boone.
Kal Davis stood in the entrance to the room, dressed in slacks and a tailored jacket, his hands in the pockets of the jacket.
His dark hair was neatly combed, and his expression confident.
He had a large black bag in one hand, which he put on the floor next to his feet.
Cadie had a fleeting thought that it wasn't a briefcase, which seemed odd for a businessman.
"Good morning," he said.
Cadie felt a spike of adrenaline shoot through her body. "Where's Jaxon?"
Kal walked into the room and moved toward the rows of seats. He stopped near the front to rest one hand on the back of a chair, as though he were a patron arriving early for a show.
"There is no meeting," Kal said. "I sent that text because I need to speak with you privately."
Cadie felt a chill. She was alone in Stratton House with a man known to be dangerous, and no one knew where she was—except Barrett.
She'd told him that she would text when she arrived.
Unfortunately, she hadn't done that. Worse…
she'd grabbed her bag but left her phone in the car. "What do you want, Kal?"
His smile lacked warmth. "I want to make you an offer," he said, "a real one. No more games, no more back and forth. I've been patient, you've been stubborn, and we've both wasted enough time."
He took his hand off the chair and walked closer. Cadie did not back away. The walls were behind her. To leave the room she'd have to walk by him, which she wanted to avoid.
"When this building comes down and the condos go up, the money will flow," Kal said with certainty. "High-end units in this location will sell for millions. The investors are already lined up. The permits are as good as approved. All that's missing is my company's ownership of the property."
He stopped a few feet from her. "Name your price."
Cadie shouldn't have been surprised that Kal thought she could be bought. Clearly, he saw Stratton House as a number on a spreadsheet, a parcel to be developed—apparently unable to conceive of value that was not expressed in dollars.
"I'm not selling to you," Cadie said, upset at his assumption that her loyalty was for sale. "Don't you get that? This conservatory belonged to my aunt. It's her legacy, and I intend to see it restored."
Kal's eyes narrowed, and for a moment his pretense fell away. "That's not going to happen," he said.
Without looking away, Cadie said. "We'll see about that." Her hands trembled, so she pressed them against her sides.
Kal stared at her. Silence stretched between them, and Cadie heard her own breathing.
"You should have sold when I first offered," Kal said, unnervingly calm. "Now, you've forced me to act."
Without pause, he grabbed her, gripping her arm harder than she expected. She tried to pull away, but he wrenched her forward, shoving her toward the rows of seating. She stumbled against the first row of chairs and nearly fell, but Kal was behind her instantly.
He forced her into a chair and held her there with one hand on her shoulder as he pulled a zip tie from his pocket.
Cadie struggled, but he moved fast and his grip was tight.
He yanked her arms behind the back of the chair.
She clenched her hands into fists and held them side by side.
Kal secured her wrists with the zip tie, pulling it tight enough that the plastic bit into her skin.
Then he stepped back and looked at her with a satisfied expression.
"I've done my homework," Kal said. He was breathing harder from the exertion, but his voice was steady. "You're an only child and you don't have any heirs. When you're gone, the property will go to the state. Then I'll pick it up for a lot less than I would have paid you."
He smirked. "You see…I win either way. In my defense, I attempted to be fair. I would have purchased this property from you for a good price, or from your aunt, if she hadn't been so stubborn."
Cadie stared at him. Her wrists burned where the zip tie pressed into her skin. Her shoulder ached where he'd gripped her. Her heart was beating so hard that she could feel it in her throat.
But her mind was working. "It's money," she said, in a shaky voice. "Is this worth your future? You'll be caught. You'll go to prison."
Kal looked at her with the patient expression of a man having to explain the situation to a simpleton. "I don't think so."
He picked up the black bag that she'd noticed earlier. Then he turned away and walked toward the back of the room. The bag was dark canvas, the kind a contractor might carry tools in. Kal unzipped it and began removing items that Cadie could not see clearly from her position in the chair.
Behind her back, hidden from his view, Cadie rotated her wrists outward then extended her fingers.
With her palms against each other, the zip tie was looser.
Slowly, she began to shimmy her hands out of it.
While Kal was turned away, she worked steadily, keeping her shoulders still.
Getting free of the restraint was her only chance.