Chapter 6 - THE TRAITOR IN THE HOUSE
An hour later, Elena was resting comfortably in the second-floor medical suite under Dr. Vance’s care.
Belle was sleeping soundly in her own room down the hall.
Harland led Ru down to his private underground study.
The room was lined with leather-bound books, security monitors, and a massive mahogany desk.
Standing near the desk was a tall man in a dark tactical vest.
Marcus.
Harland’s head of internal security.
“Boss, the perimeter is locked down,” Marcus reported briskly.
“No one entered or left the estate tonight.”
“Except the chef who delivered the wine,” Harland said, his gray eyes fixing on Marcus.
Marcus frowned slightly.
“Chef Julian has been with us for ten years.”
“Check his bank accounts,” Harland commanded.
“And check who visited his kitchen during dinner.”
Marcus nodded once and turned toward the door.
As he passed Ru, his eyes lingered on her for a fraction of a second.
A cold, calculating look.
Ru felt a shiver run down her spine.
She had seen that look before in the eyes of men who liked secrets.
“Marcus,” Harland called out.
The security chief stopped.
“Assign two trusted men outside Miss Callaway’s guest room tonight.”
“She stays here?” Marcus asked, surprise flashing across his face.
“She stays until I say otherwise,” Harland replied coldly.
Marcus bowed his head and left the room.
The heavy oak door clicked shut.
Harland poured two glasses of scotch from a crystal decanter on the desk.
He pushed one across the wood toward Ru.
“I don't drink,” Ru said, pushing it back.
“Neither do I, usually,” Harland said, taking a slow sip.
“Tonight is an exception.”
“You think the traitor is someone inside your inner circle, don't you?” Ru asked, leaning against the edge of the bookshelf.
“My house is impenetrable from the outside,” Harland said darkly.
“If someone slipped digitalis into my sister’s wine, they wear a Voss security pin or cook in our kitchen.”
“And you trust Marcus?”
Harland paused, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.
“I’ve trusted Marcus with my life for twelve years.”
“That doesn't mean you should trust him with your family,” Ru countered quietly.
Harland looked up, meeting her gaze with an intensity that made the air in the room feel thin.
“You’re remarkably perceptive for a waitress.”
“I told you,” Ru said, crossing her arms.
May you like
“I’m a nurse.”
“We notice when people are dying to get rid of other people.”
