Page 52 of The Unseen
She gave him a fake smile as he approached. “I’m a little surprised to see you.”
His jaw looked tight. “Is that so?”
Her own lips tightened. “What do you want, Phillipe?”
“I thought it was time we had a little talk.”
“Neither Rachel nor I have anything to say to you.”
“Then let me make things perfectly clear. My son is in jail. My business is destroyed. The police arrived at my home this morning to arrest me. You and your aunt are responsible for everything that’s happened.”
She kept her phony smile in place, just to taunt him. “Really? You did everything in your power to force my aunt to sell. You even paid a man to break into her home. It’s a miracle no one was hurt. I’m surprised the police released you so soon.”
“They came to the house. With the help of my housekeeper, I managed to elude them.”
One of her eyebrows went up. “You think that was wise?”
The expression turned hard, his eyes glittering with barely suppressed rage. He took a step toward her. “I want to know what you did to my son.”
Nicole forced herself not to take a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Christian hasn’t been the same since the night we came here.
He’s been volatile and moody, constantly lashing out.
Now he’s under arrest. I told him not to talk to anyone, but he wouldn’t listen.
He has the police convinced I’m involved in any number of crimes.
” He moved closer, and she did move back.
“It’s you,” he said. “You and this house. The things I saw that night … What are you, some kind of witch? What did you do to him?”
“I don’t know what happened to Christian, but I know that what’s happening to him right now is exactly what he deserves.”
Phillipe moved closer, forcing her backward until she came up against the side of the house. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done. You and your stubborn aunt. And then I’m going to burn this place to the ground.”
Nicole gasped when she saw his hand move; she caught the flash of metal and felt the barrel of a gun pressing into her ribs. She swallowed down a rush of fear. Damned if she would let this man intimidate her.
“You think things are bad for you now? Add murder to your crimes and you’ll never see the light of day again. You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison.”
Villard roughly gripped her shoulders and spun her around. He pushed her toward the back door, shoving his gun into her back. Nicole prayed Maggie and Aunt Rachel weren’t on the terrace, but were upstairs or somewhere else. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t running her way.
As they rounded the corner, Maggie saw the pistol and pushed to her feet, while Rachel sat immobile, every drop of color vanishing from her face.
“What’s going on?” the buxom woman asked.
“You’ll have to ask him,” Nicole said.
“Shut up and get in the house, all of you.” He waved the gun in that direction.
Maggie helped Rachel up from her chair, and the women made their way inside. Nicole followed, Villard’s gun still in her back.
“Into the parlor,” Phillipe demanded, and they moved in that direction, Nicole’s mind frantically working to figure a way to stop whatever Villard had planned.
Rachel and Maggie sat down next to each other on one of the velvet settees.
“You don’t need to do this, Phillipe,” Rachel said. “I’ll sell you the house. It’s nothing but a few acres of land. I’ll sign whatever papers you want. It isn’t worth someone’s life.”
The pistol swung, aimed in Rachel’s direction. “It’s too late for that. You should have taken my offer when you had the chance.”
Nicole thought she heard a sound outside, a faint engine noise, wheels on gravel, but it was too far away for her to be sure. The police would be after him. Would they think he might come here? If there was a chance, she needed to keep him talking.
“You want to know what happened to Christian? I’ll tell you.”
The gun returned, pointed straight at her heart. “What did you do?”
Nicole took a steadying breath. “Christian has always been a good son, hasn’t he?”
“Of course. He loves me and his mother.” The barrel didn’t waver. “You’re trying to distract me. I should kill you all right now.” A twisted smile curved his lips. “The trunk of my car is full of gasoline. Maybe I’ll lock you inside while I burn the place down.”
Cold dread slipped through her. “Before you do that, don’t you want to hear what happened to your son?”
Villard made no reply, but she clearly had his attention.
“You remember what happened the night of the gallery opening?” Nicole continued. “The terrible storm that blew up outside, the painting that flew off the easel and sliced across the room, barely missed cutting off someone’s head?”
“It was just an accident caused by the wind.”
“It was the woman in the painting, the same woman you saw the night you came to Belle Reve. She’s a demon, Phillipe. You saw with your own eyes what she did to Christian the night he was here.”
“That’s insane.”
“Put the gun down, Phillipe—or we’ll call her back.” She didn’t dare look at Rachel or Maggie. Simone was burning in hell. She would never hurt anyone again. “You can’t begin to imagine what she can do.”
The gun shook in Phillipe’s hand. Looking into her face, he lifted it until the barrel pressed against her temple. “You’re lying. There are no such things as demons.”
Her chin firmed. “Actually, there are.”
She could almost feel his finger tightening on the trigger. Maggie screamed as a shot rang out, and Nicole closed her eyes against the pain of death she was sure would follow.
Instead, half of Phillipe’s head exploded, spraying blood and gore all over the far side of the room. There was a hole in the parlor’s front window, where the glass had splintered. The front and back doors crashed open, and police in camouflage uniforms with SWAT on the back poured into the house.
Nicole spotted Lucas racing toward her, and then she was in his arms.