“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Well, you better do something, and fast.”
“No one knows Brianna Dare is there,” he said, his voice rich with implication.
“She flew to Corvo, and to Terceira from Lisbon. The authorities could track her.”
“Does anyone know she’s at your house?”
She knew exactly where he was going with this. “Just a housekeeper.”
“And would she question it if you told her your houseguest left?”
“Probably not.”
“Then you need to stop her, Solange.”
Her stomach rolled at the thought. Getting rid of Ana had been a momentary act of madness and fear. What he was suggesting was premeditated.
“I don’t know… how.”
“Figure it out,” he ordered.
“Excuse me?” she shot back. “The last time I checked, you worked for me.”
“I’m offering you counsel,” he said, softening his tone. “No one knows she’s there at your farm, but that could change any minute. You have to get rid of her- and Solange, you have to hide the body. Destroy it and any evidence.”
Her throat tightened at the thought. “They’ll track her here eventually.”
“And you’ll say she came and went, without any explanation of why she wanted to leave. It makes sense that her father’s research would lead her to you ultimately, but by the time the next diving season starts, this will be ancient history. And I promise you, you will end up with the matching pair of the Bombay Blues, the owner of one of the greatest artifacts in the world.”
Jaeger would explode with envy. He’d realize how resourceful she was, how talented. And how he should never have let her leave. He’d love her again.
“Do you really think I have to…” Kill again.
“Yes, you do. And you must be very thorough and neat.”
It didn’t sound very neat to her. It sounded… sickening.
“I really have no idea how to kill a person and destroy the evidence.”
“Use your imagination.”
Her gaze flicked to the windmill that blocked her view. “I will.”
She finished the call, sipped some sustenance, and headed back to the kitchen to convince Brianna Dare to tour the windmill.
“Everything of real interest in this place is in the windmill,” Solange said as they walked toward the structure, the soft whoosh of the sweeps getting louder as they got closer. “This windmill was around when your Aramis and my Carlos were alive. Think about that, Brianna.”
“Amazing,” the girl replied, clearly not that interested. If she knew what was hidden there, she’d be much more enthusiastic.
The secret made Solange smile. “I considered taking it down because it blocks the view.” Solange opened the door to the first level, where the sound changed to a constant groaning, creaking, moaning noise caused by the massive wooden mechanism that took up most of the wide, round structure. “But then I had a change of heart.”
“Why?”
“Apparently there are only a few windmills of this type left on Corvo, with those three sweeps and that big center wheel that can make them turn in either direction. These are found nowhere else in the whole world.”
“Fascinating.”
“Oh, but it is,” Solange said. “This is the main floor-the meal floor, they called it.” She waved a hand across the dimly lit area, pointing to the huge wheel that lay on its side, turning noisily around a fat wooden tube where grain once poured down, ground by the maceration of the wheels and cogs and gears on the level above them.
“It was used to make flour,” she continued, chattering faster as her nerves tightened at what she was about to do. “I suppose I could convert it to a power-producing windmill, but I just like the old-fashioned kind of electricity. The kind you get from the wall.”
“Oh, I see.” Poor Brianna could hardly hide her disinterest.
“The stairs are the best part,” she said, nudging Brianna toward the opening to the long set of circular stairs that curved around and up to the top floor.
“They feel kind of medieval,” Brianna commented, starting the climb.
“Don’t they, though?” Solange agreed. After the fourth step, the wall blocked their view into the gears. “All the way up, you can peek through those slats to the mechanism in the middle. See?” After a moment, they reached the first opening and Brianna peered out.
“Whoa. That’s kind of… intense.”
What was intense was right under her feet. She was inches from the treasures she sought and had no idea. What else could be hidden under the stairs?
A body, perhaps.
A shiver ran down Solange’s spine. Could she actually do this?
She had to. “Look at that, Brianna,” Solange said, pausing at an opening. “That is the great spur wheel.”
This wheel stood on its side, unlike the one at the bottom. Its massive, sinister-looking wooden teeth meshed with three other cogs, all sharp enough to macerate stone into sand.
Brianna stopped and stared, the groan of the wheel almost deafening at this point.
“If you don’t use it for power or milling, why is it running?”
“Oh, it never stops,” Solange said. “The wind in the Azores never, ever stops.”
“You mean you can’t stop the mill at all, ever?”
“There’s a brake somewhere, I believe.” Solange put her foot on the very stone where she’d hidden the scepter. “Come on-the top is the best part.”
The stairs ended at a small door, not five feet high.
“You’ll need to crouch a little to get in,” Solange warned. “But go ahead. It’s worth it.”
Brianna entered and let out a gasp of surprise. “Wow, this could be dangerous.”
Yes, it could. A two-foot-deep ledge circled the inside of the windmill, open all along one side to where someone could easily tumble right into the grinding mechanism.
Solange looked at it, and imagined that happening.
Brianna put her hand on the wall, bracing herself and peering over to look at the wheel. “That’s not for the faint of heart,” she said, but didn’t appear worried. “Why don’t you put a railing up or something? If someone falls in there, you’d have a helluva lawsuit on your hands.”
“No one ever comes up here,” she said.
“Well, apparently your nurse came up here recently.”
Solange gave her a hard look. “She wasn’t my nurse. She was my housekeeper. And a very disturbed and sad young lady, I might add.”
“Really?” The note of accusation in her voice was unmistakable.
“Really.” Where had she heard anything about it? Gabby? She knew bringing that woman up here had been a mistake. If they’d talked about Ana…
“So is this door where the windmill blades are?” Brianna reached for the door to the balcony and sweeps, but Solange stopped her.
“That’s really not for the faint of heart,” she said.
“Don’t worry, I’m not.” She twisted the knob and opened the door, almost stumbling backward at the unexpected gust of air. “Whoa.”
If she stepped out there, it would be so much easier. But inexplicable. Another fall from the windmill down the cliffs? Besides, she couldn’t risk a body as evidence.
The windmill sweeps roared outside, the steady, thumping rhythm filling the structure.
Brianna used her right hand to brace herself, her face away from Solange as she fought not to look down. “This is such a cool view. But, wow, I can’t even imagine what drove that girl to throw herself off of here.” Again, the note of… doubt.
She was about to find out exactly what drove her.
Solange slipped her hand into the pocket of her pleated skirt, her fingers closing over the revolver. With her thumb, she pulled back the hammer.
At the distinct sound, Brianna whipped around just as Solange pulled out the gun. She gasped in shock. “What the hell?”
“You’re going to do exactly as I say.”
The blood drained from Brianna’s face, no words coming out of her open mouth.
Solange’s mind whirred. If she fired, the recoil could knock her over, or at least off balance enough to give this wily and strong young woman the upper hand. The wind was still blowing in from the slightly open door.