Chapter 35

 

 

4:09 p.m.

Berkingsworth Manor

The Cotswolds, England

 

Eva caught sight of the manor home at the end of the gated driveway. The drive from London had taken her close to two hours along the M14. Her global positioning system had served her well and the curvy countryside drive hadn’t fazed her. It had actually given her time to process the information she’d received from Mark.

She slouched against the door as she drove up the path. Why did SILVER X3 abandon the Deveron case?

Her white Bentley decelerated up the ramp and drifted to a halt at the entrance of a red-brick English home. Eva imagined that it had once been a gentry home. But right now she was keen to meet its current owner. Despite the rumored fire the property was in good order except for a shattered window here and there, probably caused by the occasional unwanted guests.

Must be a recluse.

Eva scanned the local newspaper clipping she had researched on the fire. No one had been hurt. The owner had battled the fire with the local fire brigade saving much of the timeless property. She sprang out of the car and slinked around the manor grounds. The courtyard to the south presented the most picturesque scene with it gables, lofty chimney-stacks and a residual, staircase turret. The place must have been a fabulous home.

She glimpsed to the charred east wall, obviously a souvenir from the fire, imagining what a high-quality renovation would do for the place. She circled the grounds twice before making her way up to the front door.

She pounded on the solid oak. No acknowledgment came from within. She stole to the west side of the property and peeked through the window. The window ledge forbade any clear visibility, its elevation higher than she’d anticipated. Leaning a knee up on the windowsill she peered through the broken glass. A tattered curtain veiled her view.

She hurtled down the stonewall. Her high heeled boot wedged in the openings between the stones. “Connard! Idiot! Not my new boots!”

Eva stooped down in an attempt to rescue her stylish footwear, tugging at the thin leather.

 

On the east side of the building, away from prying eyes, a man stood at his sink glancing out. Discarded dishes, cutlery and clammy cups piled the kitchen sink to the brim. The floors crawled with unflustered ants and minuscule guests scavenged whatever crumbs they could salvage on the pest-ridden floor. Despite the unkempt condition the house clearly showed clues of its former regality.

The man ripped open a soda can and guzzled its contents. His gaze drifted toward the courtyard.

His eyes bulged and he swore under his breath. “What the—?”

He turned his eyes to the end of the court to see if the sign he’d posted a week ago was still on the lawn. From where it stood it was as clear as foil.

 

 

Private Property – No Trespassers

 

 

 

Squatters and teenagers had wrecked his property for months, obviously assuming the place abandoned. Could he blame them? He hardly resurfaced from the lower quarters where he resided. He stationed his half-empty can on the counter. “I’m sick and tired of you youngsters thinking you can use my property like some sort of weekend campout for alcohol, drugs and God knows what!”

The man rambled toward the kitchen door and picked up his Blaser R8 Barrel rifle. He left the house by a back staircase that led out into the courtyard. “Hey!”

Eva flipped round. She yanked her shoe from the stone gaps, injuring her big toe in the process. She glared up at the distinguished silver-haired man. He approached, dressed in worn denims and a plaid shirt under a brown-leather jacket. He would be her father’s age and the anger in his eyes disguised his somewhat compassionate face. Yet his gun barrel communicated louder than language as he marked it at her.

 

 

 

 

9:31 a.m.

 

The beast edged closer, his hooves thudding in a charge. Paralyzed into stillness Calla held her breath. She couldn’t run. Not with this ankle. She recoiled in a backward crawl as the charging water buffalo made its move toward her. Calla gawked at the animal for several seconds. Let’s see what you’ve got.

She shut her eyes tight. The thudding hooves shuddered to a halt. She opened one eye. The animal stood motionless with its vicious gaze still upon her. It edged back, retracing its steps without turning around. She studied the giant mammal. He wasn’t looking at her but at something behind her. In one move the beast bolted in the opposite direction. What the—?

Calla whipped her head around. Her wounds pulsing in a mania of agony, the scorching sun blinded her vision. A silhouetted figure stood arched over her. She coughed and squinted for a better look. Her vision was hazy but someone stood peering down at her. A woman with three long braids. Can it be?

Calla’s lips mouthed a whisper. “Allegra?”

Allegra cast her a grim look.

Calla’s eyes focused. She tried to stand. “Allegra, is it really you?”

“Don’t move, Calla, you’re badly hurt.”

“How…how...how did you find me?”

Allegra helped her stand on one foot. Calla’s words shot out in a raspy whisper. “You’re alive!”

Allegra smiled. “Be still, Calla. It’s time you met your family. Let’s go!”