"Shadow Game" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feehan Christine)

last of her hairpins scattering in all directions. They tumbled to the bright,
gleaming tiles to lie all around her. Lily choked back another sob. There was
old Heath, seventy if he was a day, still in charge of the grounds, living in
his own little cottage in the interior of the forest behind the main house. He
had lived on the property his entire life, born and raised and staying on to
carry on his father's duties. He was entirely loyal to the family and the
estate.
"I hate this, Dad," she whispered. "I hate everything about this. Now I have to
suspect people I love of treachery. It makes no sense." For the first time she
wished she could read the people in her household. She would try, but in all
their years together, she had never done so. Her father had been very careful in
his choices for her safety, for her benefit. So that she could live as normal a
life as possible.
She returned the kindling bucket to the hearth, positioning it several times to
make certain she had it just right. She knew she was being paranoid about it.
Who would care if she moved the bucket three inches one way or the other? She
was doing trivial things to keep her mind focused and occupied so she wouldn't
scream and cry in her sorrow.
What had her father said? He wanted her to promise that she would set it right.
What in the world was it? It had been so important to him, but she had no idea
what he meant. What was she supposed to set right? And what had he been doing in
his private laboratory? And Peter's last wish was for her to set Ryland Miller
and his men free. What in the world had he meant about finding the others? What
others?
"Lily?" John Brimslow pushed open the door and stuck his head in. "I've paged
your father several times but there's no answer. Rosa checked Donovans. He
signed out late in the afternoon." There was a worried note in his voice. "Was
there a fundraiser or somewhere your father was giving a speech?"
Lily forced a thoughtful frown, though she wanted to burst into tears again and
fling herself into his arms for comfort. She dared not look him fully in the
eye. He knew her so well. Even with the poor lighting, he would notice her
tear-streaked face.
She shook her head. "He was supposed to meet me for dinner at Antonio's. I
waited over an hour but he didn't show up. I left the standard message with
Antonio should he wander in, that I had given up and come home, but there was
nothing else. Did they say if he left with anyone? Maybe he went to dinner with
someone from the lab."
"I don't think Rosa asked that."
"Did you look at the planner on his desk?" Her throat ached, raw and painful.
John snorted. "Please, Lily, no one can find anything on your father's desk and
if we did, it wouldn't make sense. He has that weird shorthand code he writes
in. You're the only one who's going to make sense out of anything on his
calendar."
"I'll go look, John. He probably went back to the labs and just isn't picking
up. Call the desk and ask if he signed back in." She was proud of herself for
sounding so practical. So in control. Not really worried yet, but slightly
amused at her father's continual absentmindedness. "And if not, ask if he left
with anyone. And you might have them check on that ridiculous car he insists on
driving."
Deep inside, she heard weeping and she knew it was her own voice. The sound was