Tehya stood slowly, her gaze locked on Ascarti.
He was frowning at her, glaring, actually.
“You were supposed to be dead,” she whispered.
He grunted at that. “If you’d had your way, I would be. Fortunately for me, I think I might have actually survived.” He smiled then. A reptilian smirk that sent a chill racing up her spine. “Unfortunately for you, perhaps. Now let’s go.” He waved the handgun toward the darkness outside.
“How did you get into the gardens?” she asked as they moved slowly from the crate.
“A little inside help,” he revealed, his slimy voice amused. “Now, be a good little girl and let’s finish our business. Then I can go about recouping my money from that little hit your friends made against my stash.”
“What hit?” She played dumb. She’d perfected that illusion through the years.
He laughed, clearly refusing to believe her. “Let’s go, Ms. Fitzhugh. Someone is very interested in talking to you.”
Keeping Journey close to her, Tehya ignored the other girl’s confusion as she followed Ascarti.
She was right, they had been held in a large metal shipping crate stored inside a warehouse on the docks. She could hear the sounds of the ships outside, voices calling out and machinery running.
Across from the crate, the doors to an office were thrown open, and it was there they were led.
Tehya stepped into the brightly lit room, her heart racing, fear drying her mouth and making her knees weak. As the men gathered there came into view, she felt something inside her soul wither and die.
At the same time Journey cried out in denial and confusion, then in fear as one of the men behind her all but threw her onto a tattered leather couch at a signal from her father as she moved to race across the room.
Stephen Taite, Craig Taite, and Beauregard Grant stood watching them. Stephen was propped against the edge of an old desk, his arms crossed over his tuxedoed chest, his expression hard and brutal. Journey’s father, Craig, grimaced in disgust as Journey cried out to him.
Only Beauregard remained completely unaffected, cold, brooding as he watched.
Tehya sat down slowly at the other end of the couch, fighting to make sense of it, to believe what she was seeing.
“Ah, I remember that look.” Stephen’s smile was cold, cruel. “The same look your dear mother had when we caught up with her in Nicaragua. I believe she may have actually cried, though.” The pleasure in his voice was sickening. “And I would have thought by now you would have explained who you are. The daughter of our dear departed Francine, Tehya Fitzhugh.”
“That’s not true,” Journey cried out hoarsely.
“It’s true,” Tehya told her quietly, “and they’re the reason Mother died.”
“What are you doing?” Journey cried out before Tehya could speak. “Father? Grandfather? Have you lost your minds?”
Stephen flashed a hard frown at her.
“If she opens her stupid mouth again, gag her,” her father ordered.
Tehya turned her head slowly, not wanting to face what she knew she would see in the young girl’s eyes. She was only twenty-two. She might not have grown up with an affectionate father, but she had grown up with a semblance of confidence in the world and her place in it. That was being stolen from her grip now by the very men she trusted above all others.
“Will you gag me as well?” Tehya turned back to the three men.
Stephen smirked back at her, his lined face twisted in a parody of amused tolerance. “If I gagged you, dear, then I wouldn’t be able to hear the answer to the question I have. And you will answer it, or Journey will pay the price.”
He smiled benignly at his granddaughter.
It was Beauregard’s reaction Tehya caught, though. A flash of something bitter, heated as he slowly tensed his arms unfolding and hanging, ready at his sides.
“You killed my mother.” She felt numb. She stared back at Stephen and Craig. How horrified, how terrified she must have been when they caught up with her.
Stephen chuckled. “She thought we were there to help her. That her father had sent us after she contacted him.” Satisfaction filled his smile. “She was rather upset to learn that wasn’t the case.” He turned to his son. “We did enjoy our last hours with her, though, didn’t we?”
Craig’s answer was a fond smile as Journey’s smothered cry of horror sliced through Tehya’s senses.