“Okay, uh, well, good luck. Let’s hope they did that,” Grant said. “I guess we’ll leave you to it unless there’s anything else we can do.”
Alex continued to tap at his keyboard. “No. Get some sleep. I’ll keep at it for a few more hours. Donotknock on my door before eleven.”
“Right. I’ll let Worthington know,” Grant said as he slipped his hand around Julia’s and tugged her toward the door.
“Thanks, Alex. See you tomorrow,” Julia said before they stepped into the hall.
Grant heaved a sigh as he wrapped his arm around her. “He is so strange.”
“He’s not. He’s very nice to help us like this.”
“I know,” Grant said, his voice apologetic, “but he is kind of weird. What was that business with his wife?”
Julia shrugged as her eyebrows knitted. “I don’t know. But I hope they get it sorted out. Hey, I’m going to check on Kyle, okay?”
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll skip that. After all of today’s tension, I think I’ll save a visit with him for tomorrow.”
“That’s fine,” she said with a smile.
They parted ways, and Julia meandered through the quiet, dimly lit halls toward Kyle’s room. She found his door partially closed, and no lights shone from within. She peeked inside, finding him comfortably asleep.
As she pulled the door almost closed, her mind flipped to the odd note and key. Why had Lydia sent it with the ominous warning?
Grant dismissed it, but Julia’s mind refused to let go of the frightening message. Lydia’s threats were never idle. And while they’d managed to stave off any attempt to ruin the Harrington family in the past two years, she worried they’d miss the last play.
With her mind whirling and her footsteps hurried, she navigated to the kitchen, hoping to find Worthington. Unfortunately, she found the darkened space empty.
She flicked on a light and crossed to the trash can near the island and opened the lid. She stared down into an empty white bag.
A curse escaped her as she let the lid fall. She chewed her lower lip, spinning to lean against the counter as she drummed her fingers against her forearm.
With a shake of her head, she tugged open a drawer and found a flashlight. She pushed through the door into the courtyard outside the kitchen, flicking on the light. The large trash bin sat tucked behind the well-placed bushes.
She crossed to it and tossed the lid open. The putrid scent of rotting trash filled her nostrils, triggering her gag reflex. She shined the light into the bin, hoping to find the box and its contents on top.
Unfortunately, she didn’t. Her heart sank. With a groan, she reached inside and sifted through a few items.
Her hope waned and her grimace grew as she shoved a few more items around. Her heart leapt as she spotted the unmarked envelope. She snatched it, pulling the note from it to confirm it was the one she sought.
With a grin, she shoved it into her pocket and continued to sort through. She finally found the box, but it had toppled and the key was missing.
The weight of the item probably made it sink to the bottom. She let her head drop back between her shoulders. She was going to have to dig deep to find it, literally and figuratively.
She’d never reach the bottom without tipping the can over. With gritted teeth, she wrangled it from its spot and tipped it over. A few items spilled out.
She propped the lid open and sorted through the items deeper in the bag. Her fingers finally hit metal. She latched onto it and pulled it out, grinning as she spotted the key. After flicking a piece of wilted lettuce from it, she set it in the box with the note, yanked the trash bin upright and back into its spot, and tossed the escaped items.
With her prize in hand, she returned the flashlight, washed her hands, and carried the box upstairs to her office. She settled into the supple leather of her desk chair, switching on her desk lamp. Its warm glow cast deep shadows across the room.
She read the note again, trying to glean any details from it. “Key to my kingdom,” she whispered before she grabbed it, studying it closer. “What were you up to, Lydia?”
Was this merely a trick? One last game to make them chase their tails or did it have some nefarious ties?
“You will be hunted,” she read as she raised the key into the light. “Why? What do you lead to?”
She narrowed her eyes at the engravings on the bow. Were they random squiggles surrounding those symbols or something more?
Her fingers traced the etchings as her tired eyes threatened to close. Her mind tried to fill in the gaps and make the connections she needed to make, but before she could, her head sank into the leather behind her. She drifted to sleep with the key clutched in her hand.
