Chapter Twenty-Six
She sat down at her father’s desk with a sigh. Touching the things he’d once touched, Breanna closed her eyes as if that would bring him back somehow. After breakfast this morning and finishing the Christmas trees this afternoon, she just needed some time to herself.
What kind of sordid, mixed-up shit had she been born into? Secrets and lies. “God, I sure hope that’s the last of them.”
Because if there were any more skeletons in the proverbial family closet, she feared she might lose it.
Not wanting to think about cars plunging off the face of the mountain for one more minute, Breanna sifted through the stack of notebooks sitting beneath her fingertips. Her father’s novel, each word painstakingly written in his own hand. Placing them in sequential order, she packed the notebooks, along with other writings that she’d found, into a box. As long as she was here, she’d start transcribing his manuscript onto her laptop, where it could be kept safe in the cloud forever.
Cold hands. Kneading her shoulders, Sinjin bent down to kiss that place beneath her ear that tickled. Breanna giggled, jumping in her seat. “Were you outside? Your fingers are like icicles.”
“Want to warm them up for me?” He swung her chair around, and crouching on his haunches, shoved his hands beneath her sweater. “There. That feels nice.”
“That’s cold, baby.”
“Just give it a minute.” Sinjin kissed her on the nose, warming his hands on her skin. “What are you doing in here?”
“Organizing.” She nodded to the box on the floor. “I’m going to take those to my room.”
“I’ll bring it down for you.” He stood and hefted the box onto his shoulder.
Falling into place beside him, Breanna paused at the doorway. “Hey, I just had a thought. We haven’t looked in here. Do you think Grandmama could’ve stashed the papers here somewhere?”
“It’s possible, but I don’t think so. Valerie kept these rooms like a shrine. No one ever came in here—not even Francie,” Sinjin said, glancing around her father’s living room. “She wanted everything to remain just as Shane left it.”
“Where the fuck are they, then? And why hide them so they can’t be found?”
“Good question.” Holding the box on his shoulder, his free arm came around her. “It’s okay. I’ll get them from the office.”
“But what if Derek’s already destroyed them or they aren’t there?”
Because that was a distinct possibility, now wasn’t it?
Gazing down at her with a shrug, Sinjin blew out a breath. “Then we’re fucked.”
Not if I can help it.
And it wasn’t about the money, though admittedly, having it wouldn’t suck. Her family’s legacy, this mountain, the house they built, is what mattered. That, and she couldn’t let Derek get away with this. Breanna would not let him win.
“I’m guessing if she didn’t trust Raymond, then she didn’t trust his son very much, either.” Glancing up at him, a lightbulb went off in her head. “She hid those papers where she thought Derek would never think to look, but you would.”
“Maybe, but where?”
“Come on.” She tugged on his arm. “We haven’t been looking in the right places.”
Sinjin put the box he carried down on Valerie’s coffee table. Shaking his head, he raked his fingers through his dark hair, then pulled her into his arms. “Breanna, we’ve already scoured every square inch of these rooms.”
“And I’m telling you, we haven’t.”
“We’ve gone through the pages of every book, ransacked the closet, her drawers…”
“Those are the obvious places.” Her fingers wrapped around his biceps, and she gazed up at him, trying to make him see. “Let’s try some not-so-obvious ones.”
“Like?”
I don’t know… “You have to think like she did, Sinjin, and you knew her better than most.”
He paced around her grandmother’s living room, eyes combing the shelves they’d already searched. Sinking into a chair facing the unlit fireplace, he stared straight ahead.
“Ice cream.” Abruptly, Sinjin stood and walked over to the mantel. “Strawberry ice cream.”
“I’m not following…”
“Didn’t your mom say that’s what Valerie gave you at the pool when you were in Tahoe?” he asked, the photo of her at Venice Beach in his hands.
“Yeah, but…”
“What are you holding in this picture?”
“A strawberry ice cream cone.” Out of nowhere, tears rushed to fill her eyes. “Sinjin, you don’t think…”
Breanna watched him carefully remove the backing from the frame, and there, behind the photo, was a key taped to a letter.
“Just like her to leave instructions.” Passing her the handwritten note, he chuckled. “I knew it. The bulk of the estate is in a trust. The original documents are in a safe deposit box in Sacramento.”
“What made you look there?”
“You told me to think like her.” He shrugged. “Your grandmother would sit in this chair every day and look at that picture of you.”
And the tears that filled her eyes broke free.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” Rubbing circles on her back, Sinjin held her. “Everything’s going to be all right now, princess.”
After a quick stop at River City Bank, and then the courthouse, Dalton House was safe from Derek. And so was Breanna. With the probate and trust documents filed, they were a matter of public record now, and there wasn’t a thing his cousin could do about it.
Ian glanced at the white bakery box in the passenger seat and smiled. He’d stopped at Hank’s, getting one of his wife’s banana cream pies to bring home to her. He checked in on her car at the shop, too. Looking better than new, they told him she’d be good to go by the end of the week. What would Breanna do then? Stay? Go to LA? Portland? He understood she had another semester to go, but her graduation in May seemed so far away.
She was in the kitchen with Francie, watching her wrap a nice tenderloin in puff pastry. “Beef Wellington, Auntie?” he asked, kissing her on the cheek.
“Mmhm, and there’s truffle mashed potatoes, arugula salad, green beans, and fresh-baked bread to go with it.” Francie didn’t even bother glancing up when she asked him, “Everything go okay?”
“Yeah, it’s done.”
“Thank goodness,” she replied, letting out a breath.
“Stopped at Hank’s.” With a wink, Ian kissed Breanna’s cheek and set the bakery box on the counter. “Picked up dessert.”
“Is that a banana cream pie?”
“Could be.” He grinned. “Checked on that damn girly car of yours, too. It should be ready by the end of the week.”
“Oh.” Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “Good. That’s good.”
“You’ve got another hour before dinner’s ready.” Glancing up at them, Francie smiled. “I’m guessing the two of you have some talking to do.”
“Yeah.” And lacing his fingers with Breanna’s, he kissed his aunt on the cheek. “I suppose we do.”
Once inside his living room, loosening his tie with one hand, Ian tossed his briefcase to the sofa with the other.
“I take it back,” she said, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “You do look lawyerish.”
“Oh, yeah?” Grabbing her hand, he pulled Breanna to his chest and held her there.
“Yeah.” Smiling, her fingertips smoothed over his lapels. “And I like it.”
He kissed her then.
Tightening his hold, Ian pressed her into him closer, his embrace engulfing her entire body. And for a moment, time stood still. Tasting her soft, candied lips. Inhaling citrus from her hair. The feel-good chemical cocktail she incited released into his veins. He savored the feeling.
With a feather-light sweep of his lips on hers, Ian’s thumb grazed her cheek, and he turned toward the glass. Going over to it, he got out of his jacket and tore the tie from his neck, throwing them both to the floor.
Then, as he gazed upon the snow-covered peaks, with her face pressed into his back, Breanna wrapped her arms around his waist. “Are you okay?”
Not really.
With a sarcastic snicker, he exhaled. “I’m no better than Derek.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I knew what he was planning to do.” Squeezing her hand, Ian rubbed it up and down his chest. “Not the how of it, but the why, and when Valerie passed, I didn’t give two shits.”
The woman had cared for him as she would a favored grandson, gifting him generously over the years for doing a job she could have easily managed herself. He just couldn’t abide someone—anyone—who didn’t appreciate Valerie Dalton for the wonderful, selfless human being that she was.
“Because from what I could tell, you never gave a shit about her.” He turned around, whiskey eyes locking on blue. “And I despised you for it.”
With a sudden intake of breath, Breanna gasped at the harshness of his words.
He angled his head, stroking her pretty hair. “In my mind, you were nothing more than an entitled princess who only cared about Valerie’s money.” Pausing to exhale, Ian wet his lips. “But then I met you.”
“Your perception changed, then?”
He nodded. “I was on my way to Sacramento when I ran into you at Hank’s. See, Derek told me you were coming. I didn’t want to see you, and I didn’t want any part of what he was doing. That doesn’t absolve me, though. Knowledge makes me just as culpable. I should’ve put a stop to it…”
“But you did.” Her fingers holding onto his biceps, Breanna shook him. “Maybe I should doubt you, but I never have. I gave you my trust in blind faith, and that’s how it’s going to stay.”
God, I don’t deserve her, but thank you.
“I didn’t plan on falling in love with you—or anyone—that’s for sure. But I did. From the moment I saw you in your deathtrap of a girly car, I think.” Shaking his head, he chuckled. “And you’re trading that thing in, by the way. I need to know you’re safe.”
She nodded, giggling through her tears. “Okay.”
“Because you’re my princess, and I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
You’re mine, all mine.
He kissed her again. “I have to go back to Sacramento.”
“Why?”
Rubbing the furrow that appeared between her brows with his thumb, Ian explained, “I still want to get those files from the office.”
“Derek can’t do anything with them, can he?”
“Don’t worry, he can’t touch the estate. Everything is filed with the court, just as it should be.” He held his lips to her forehead. “But he’s still my cousin, baby, so in case he’s tempted to try, I need to destroy those documents before he incriminates himself.”
Pulling back, Breanna nodded. “What do you think Derek is going to do when he finds out?”
“That I betrayed him?” Ian snickered.
“You didn’t.”
But I did.
“That’s how he’s going to see it.”