CHAPTER SEVEN

Cassie edged away from the office door, hoping that Ms. Rossi hadn’t realized she’d overheard. She felt deeply shocked. The young employee had been fired over a misunderstanding about a job ad?

That couldn’t be the whole story. There must have been other things she’d done wrong. At any rate, Cassie hoped so. She realized with a chill that perhaps this was what it took to build an empire and that was why so few people succeeded in doing it. Mistakes and excuses were not acceptable. That meant that she would have to be on her toes at all times, and try her hardest not to mess up.

Imagine if she did something wrong and Ms. Rossi spat those vicious words at her, telling her to pack her bags and get out. She’d sounded furious, like a completely different person. Cassie couldn’t help feeling sorry for the luckless Abigail, but reminded herself that it was not her place to judge the situation, and she knew nothing about the background between them.

Cassie was glad to see the maid arriving, and to be able to move away from the angry one-sided conversation that she could still hear from inside the office. The uniformed woman was Italian speaking but they were able to communicate via hand gestures.

They walked out to the parking lot, and the woman then showed Cassie where she should park, in a covered bay behind the house. She gave her a front door key with a remote control that operated the gate, and then helped her carry her bags upstairs.

Cassie automatically turned right, heading toward the children’s rooms, but the maid called her back.

“No!” she said, and Cassie was glad that this word was the same in Italian.

The maid pointed down the corridor, to the opposite end of the horseshoe.

Cassie changed direction, confused. She’d assumed that her room would be near the children’s so that she could attend to them if they needed her at night. At the opposite end of this enormous house, she wouldn’t be able to hear them if they cried. Ms. Rossi’s room, in the center of the horseshoe, was actually closer.

Still, she had already seen how independent the girls were for their age, and perhaps that meant they didn’t need any help at night—or if they did, that they were confident enough to make their way through the house and call her.

Her large bedroom with an en suite bathroom was located all the way at the other end of the horseshoe. Looking out the window, Cassie saw that the rooms overlooked a garden and courtyard, with an ornamental fountain in its center.

Looking across, she could see the children’s bedroom windows and in fact, in the light of the late-afternoon sun, she could make out the dark head of one of the children who was seated at a desk and busy with her homework. Since the two girls had identical ponytails and were similar in height, she couldn’t work out which one it was, because the back of the chair blocked her view of the dress, which would have clued her in. Even so, it was good to know that she could view them from her faraway room.

Cassie wanted to walk all the way around that horseshoe and get to know the children better, so she could be sure of getting off on the right foot with them.

However, they were doing their homework and were then heading out with their mother, so she would have to wait.

Instead, Cassie unpacked and made sure her room and cupboards were neat.

Ms. Rossi hadn’t asked her if she took any medications, so Cassie hadn’t had to tell her about all the anxiety meds that kept her on an even keel.

She stashed the bottles out of sight, at the back of her bedside drawer.

Cassie hadn’t expected that her first night in the house would be spent alone, making her way down to the empty kitchen and looking in the drawers until she found the menus.

The fridge was full of food, but Cassie had no idea if it was reserved for future meals, and there was nobody she could ask. All the staff, including the maid who had helped her, seemed to have left for the day. She felt self-conscious and awkward at the thought of ordering food in for herself on the family’s tab, on her very first night, but she decided it would be best to follow Ms. Rossi’s orders.

There was a phone in the kitchen, so she called one of the local restaurants and ordered a takeout lasagna and a Diet Coke. Half an hour later, it arrived. Not wanting to go into the formal dining room, Cassie did some more exploring. The downstairs area had many smaller rooms, and one of them, which she supposed was a children’s dining room, had a small table with four chairs.

She sat there and ate her food while studying her Italian phrase book. Then, exhausted after everything that had happened that day, she went to bed.

Just before she fell asleep, her phone buzzed.

It was the friendly barman from the guesthouse.

Hey, Cassie! I think I remembered where Jax was working. The town’s name is Bellagio. Fingers crossed this helps!”

Hope flooded through Cassie as she read the words. This was the town—the actual town—where her sister had stayed. Had she been working there? Cassie hoped that she’d been staying at a lodge or hostel as this would mean she could be traced. She would begin her investigation as soon as she had time, and Cassie felt confident that it would bring results.

What was the town like? The name sounded charming. Why had Jacqui chosen to travel there?

There were so many unanswered questions bubbling in her mind that Cassie took much longer than she’d expected to fall asleep.

When she finally did, she dreamed that she was in the town. It was quaint and scenic, with winding terraces and buildings in honeyed stone. Walking down the street, she asked a passerby, “Where can I find my sister?”

“She’s there.” He pointed up the hill.

As she walked, Cassie began to wonder what was up there. It seemed a long way from anywhere. What was Jacqui doing there? Why hadn’t she come down to find Cassie, since she knew her sister was in town?

Finally, breathlessly, she reached the top of the hill, but the tower had gone, and all she could see was a huge, dark lake. Its murky waters lapped at the dark, crumbling stone edges that surrounded it.

“Here I am.”

“Where?”

The voice seemed to come from far away.

“You’re too late,” Jacqui whispered, her voice husky and filled with sadness. “Dad got to me first.”

Horrified, Cassie leaned over and looked down.

There was Jacqui, lying at the bottom of the dark, cold water.

Her hair swirled around her and her limbs were white and lifeless, draped like seaweed over the sharp rocks, while her sightless eyes stared up.

“No!” Cassie screamed.

She realized this wasn’t Jacqui at all, and she wasn’t in Italy. She was back in France, staring over the stone parapet at the sprawled body far below. This was no dream, it was a memory. Dizziness overcame her and she clutched at the stone, terrified that she was going to fall, too, because she felt so weak and helpless.

“That’s what dads are for. That’s what they do.”

The taunting voice spoke from behind her and she staggered round.

There he was, the man who had lied to her and misled her and destroyed her confidence. But it wasn’t her father she was looking at. It was Ryan Ellis, her employer in England, his face twisted with contempt.

“That’s what dads do,” he whispered. “They hurt. They destroy. You weren’t good enough, and now it’s your turn. That’s what they do.”

His outstretched hand grabbed her shirt and he shoved with all his might.

Cassie screamed in terror as she felt herself lose her grip, the stone slipping from her grasp.

She was falling, falling.

And then she landed, sitting up, gasping, cold sweat chilling her even though the spacious bedroom was warm.

The layout of the room was unfamiliar, and she spent some time fumbling around before locating her bedside table and then, finally, the light switch.

She turned it on and sat up, desperate to confirm that she’d escaped her nightmare.

She was in the large double bed with its ornate metal headboard. On the opposite side of the room was the big bay window with its golden brown curtains closed.

To her right was the bedroom door, and to the left was the door of her bathroom. The desk, the chair, the bar fridge, the wardrobe, everything was as she remembered it.

Cassie let out a deep breath, reassured that she wasn’t still trapped in her dream.

Although it was still dark, it was already a quarter past seven in the morning. With a start, she remembered that she hadn’t received any instruction about what the children should be doing. Or had she, but it had slipped her mind? Had Ms. Rossi said something about school?

Cassie shook her head. She couldn’t recall anything and didn’t think she had mentioned the school times.

She climbed out of bed and quickly dressed. In the bathroom, she tamed her auburn waves into a tidy look that she hoped would be acceptable in this fashion-focused home.

As she stared into the mirror, she heard a noise outside.

Cassie froze, listening.

She picked up the faint sound of footsteps, scrunching over gravel. The bathroom window’s frosted glass faced outward, toward the gate.

Was this one of the kitchen staff?

She pushed the window open and peered out.

In the deep gray of the early morning, Cassie saw a dark-clad figure sidling around the house. As she stared, astonished, she made out the shape of a man wearing a black beanie and carrying a small dark backpack. She caught only a momentary glimpse, but saw he was heading toward the back door.

Her heart accelerated as she thought of intruders, and the automatic gate, and the security cameras.

She remembered Ms. Rossi’s words and the clear warning she had given. This was a wealthy family. No doubt they might be a target for robbery, or even kidnapping.

She had to go and investigate. If she thought he looked dangerous, she could raise the alarm, scream, and wake the household.

As she hurried downstairs, she decided on her plan of action.

The man had headed round the back of the house, so she would go out the front door. There was enough light now to be able to see, and the cold night had left frost on the grass. She would be able to track his footprints.

Cassie walked outside, locking the front door behind her. The morning was still and freezing cold, but she was so nervous she barely noticed the temperature.

There were the footprints, faint but clear in the frost. They led around the house, over the neatly trimmed grass, and onto the courtyard bricks.

Following them, she saw they led to the back door, which was standing wide open.

Cassie crept up the steps, noticing the distinctive shoe prints on each stone stair.

She paused in the doorway, waiting, straining to hear any suspicious noises over the hammering of her own heart.

She could hear nothing from inside, although the lights were on. A faint smell of coffee wafted toward her. Perhaps this man had been a driver, dropping off a delivery, and the cook had let him in. But then, where was he, and why couldn’t she hear any voices?

Cassie tiptoed into the kitchen but found nobody there.

She decided to go and check on the children and make sure that they were all right. Then, once she’d confirmed they were safe, she would wake Ms. Rossi and explain what she’d seen. It might be a false alarm, but better safe than sorry, especially seeing the man seemed to have vanished into thin air.

It had been such a fleeting glimpse that if she hadn’t seen the shoe prints, Cassie would have believed she’d imagined the furtive character.

She jogged up the stairs and turned toward the children’s bedrooms.

Before she reached them, she halted again, clapping her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream.

There was the man—a slim, black-clad figure.

He was outside Ms. Rossi’s bedroom, and was reaching for the door handle with his left hand.

She couldn’t see his right hand, because it was held out in front of him, but from the angle, it was obvious that he was holding something in it.