Page 3 of The Tempo of Truth (The Monsters Duet #3)
Winnie Halliday
Sixish years later
“Do you have any enemies?”
I looked at the middle-aged police officer who asked the question and tried not to roll my eyes.
“My last name is Halliday. Of course, I have enemies.” More than I could count on my ten fingers and ten toes.
I’d run out of breath trying to list business adversaries and disgruntled employees alone when he asked for a list of suspects.
“But I can’t think of any who were aware of my recent travel plans.
I decided to move up my return to the city at the last minute. ”
I received a call that my Uncle Alistair was stepping down as the acting CEO of Halliday Inc.
and moving to more of a figurehead position.
I always thought that when he was ready to step down from his leadership role, my Aunt Bellamy would take over the day-to-day operations of the global, multibillion-dollar corporation.
She’d been my uncle’s right hand for so long; she deserved the recognition and promotion far more than I did.
I wasn’t the only one surprised when she decided to step away from the conglomerate altogether once her husband cut back his responsibilities.
I was stunned when I heard she wanted to take some time away from work to focus on their family.
My cousins were getting old enough to notice that their parents were rarely home and often missed important moments in their lives.
It took several generations for the Hallidays to learn that no amount of money could make up for the memories they didn’t get to make with loved ones while feeding the beast that was the family business.
No one demanded that I return to the States and helm the centuries-old conglomerate.
My entire family knew I enjoyed my quiet, calm, and leisurely days on a small island off the coast of Italy.
It was the place where I’d laid my mother to rest many years ago when I scattered her ashes in the sea after my Aunt Channing stole her urn from a mausoleum.
It was that very rescue mission that brought us closer.
I had deep, sentimental ties to the remote location and often visited after moving abroad for college.
The island was the place where I’d gone to lick my wounds and adjust to the changes in my life after my final run-in with Kyser Kent.
I went for a long weekend to get my thoughts and feelings in order and just… never left.
The island was off the beaten path enough that I didn’t have to `worry about prying eyes or watching my back for sneaky reporters looking for a scoop on the runaway Halliday heiress.
The locals didn’t care what my last name was or how much money was in my bank account.
They embraced me as one of their own and offered a safe place for me to figure out what my next move should be.
I had to grow up very quickly, but on that island was the first time in my existence that the pressure of being an heiress disappeared.
I lived as simply and easily as the people around me, pretending I had more in common with the villagers than the glitzy and gaudy tourists who meandered aimlessly through the picturesque town.
Much to my surprise, when I found out it was time for someone new to helm the lumbering beast that was Halliday Inc.
, instead of balking or crumbling under the perceived pressure, I found myself excited to return home and step into the role that had been patiently waiting for me.
I couldn’t fake that I was a lonely wanderer who was barely getting by or that I was an average young woman trying to find my way in the big, imperfect world for much longer anyway.
Family was important, and I’d left mine hanging far too long.
“Is your family expecting you?” The police officer looked impatient.
He kept looking past me, over my shoulder, as if whatever was there was far more interesting and important than taking my complaint.
And when he spoke, he looked over my head and refused to meet my gaze.
“Don’t the Hallidays have a private security team they use?
I’ve seen them around the city since I was a rookie cop on patrol.
I’ve even worked with them a few times during those big events your family throws for charity.
I’m just a bit confused as to why you called the police instead of handling it on your own.
Seems like a waste of public resources if you ask me.
” He grunted and finally gave me an impatient stare.
“I understand you feel uneasy and think someone was following you from the airport, but we can’t find any evidence of that.
Are you sure you’re not overreacting, considering it’s been a while since you’ve been back in the city?
You’ll have to adjust to the press being one step behind you if you’re here to stay. ”
I had gotten used to moving around freely and without fear. But that didn’t mean the intuition I developed while living in the public eye and while trying to survive the family infighting vanished.
The moment I stepped off the private jet the company sent for me, I felt an eerie sensation of being watched.
I knew my return was going to bring out the press and all the attention I loathed growing up, but this was a different vibe.
A shiver shot down my back, and every protective instinct I possessed came to life.
I was instantly on alert and felt my fight-or-flight response speed up my heart rate and prickle along my nerves.
I remained hyperalert and uneasy the entire ride from the airport to the brownstone where I lived when I attended high school.
My Uncle Win bought two buildings, side by side, when he moved me to the city after my grandmother died.
He and my Aunt Channing raised me in the familiar location.
The second building was kept for visitors and staff but mostly stayed empty, so I had a place to stay when I was back in the city.
It felt like returning to my home when the prewar building came into view.
I never considered going anywhere else when I decided to move back, even though there would be no privacy or peace living next to my aunt and uncle and all my unruly cousins.
I craved that chaos I’d missed out on for so many years while living overseas.
However, I could do without my current suspicion and paranoia right out of the gate. It made me feel like I was back to being an insecure teenager who did everything to earn the love from the adults around her, only to be disappointed time and time again.
Instead of going directly to the brownstone, I had the driver drop me off at the Halliday Inc.
offices. The skyscraper was towering and imposing.
I thought I would feel safer surrounded by endless glass and steel marked with my name and filled with people who needed me to remain in one piece.
I did feel much better inside the building until the police officer who arrived to take my complaint immediately wrote my concerns off and belittled my fear.
I cleared my throat, and my tone was frosty as I replied, “Yes. The Halliday family employs a private security staff, but I arrived earlier than planned and didn’t want to hassle anyone to set up a protection detail.
I’ve been living a low-key lifestyle for the last several years.
It’s going to take some adjustment to get used to having my every move monitored.
I’ve always hated being followed around, even if it was for my own good.
I thought I could make the drive from the airport to my home without an armed guard since it wasn’t common knowledge that I was coming back to the States.
I was hoping to surprise my family by showing up a day earlier than expected.
No one should be aware of my arrival, which makes someone following my car from the airport to the office even creepier. ”
The cop hummed and rolled a coin he was playing with between his fingers.
“As I mentioned, Ms. Halliday, there is no indication anyone followed you for malicious reasons. The security in the building looked at all the video footage from right before and right after your arrival, and there was nothing suspicious. No red flags. Same with the airport. There was nothing that appeared alarming in anyone’s behavior.
I got here minutes after your call and saw nothing out of the ordinary when I arrived.
I want to take your concerns seriously, but there isn’t much to go on.
” The coin stopped traveling across his knuckles as he paused to give me a sympathetic look.
“It’s been my experience that victims of serious crime tend to be jumpy and more sensitive to the environment around them than an ordinary citizen.
It’s been a long time since you were in the city.
Maybe you’ve forgotten what the sights and sounds are like.
It makes sense that you see imaginary enemies around every corner with the type of childhood you had growing up around here.
” He shook his head and gave me a wry grin.
“Everybody dreams of being rich, but from what I’ve seen, all that money leads to a different set of problems, like the one you’re experiencing now. ”
Familiar disdain crawled along my skin. I hated it when people talked about me like I was a fictional character in a novel.
As if all the horrific experiences I endured—my parents’ murder, my father coming back from the dead then nearly dying again, my paternal grandmother being a legendary figure in high society and an unrepentant serial killer, my maternal grandfather kidnapping me and planning to hold me for ransom, and the unending speculation that I might end up exactly like the cold, ruthless, and mentally ill adults in my life—were entertainment and not horrors I was lucky to survive.