Deadly Inheritance: A Romantic Suspense by Amy Corwin

still affixed to a series of gears and shafts that would let it out, or reel it up, at the touch of a button.
    “Nice little windlass,” Gabe commented as he examined the remaining chain.
    As he moved on to the side with the missing chain, he mumbled to himself, hummed tunelessly, and paused occasionally to frown.
    Nora wasn’t mechanically-minded so there wasn’t much for her to do except stare at him and try not to embarrass herself by being sick.
    Finally, he straightened. “The moorings on this side aren’t damaged. There’s no reason for the chain to have come loose, except that someone unhooked it. Deliberately.”
    “But there’s no proof of anything.”
    “Except intention.”
    “Fingerprints?”
    “Possibly. If we can get the police to investigate.”
    “Right. Why would they? It was an accident, and they already have their hands full with my uncle’s death.”
    “That might be enough reason to convince them,” he commented.
    She placed her hands on her hips. “Maybe. Unfortunately, this place is probably riddled with fingerprints—all of them belonging to people with perfectly good and innocent reasons to be in this room. So it probably won’t matter if they do come here.”
    “Of course.” He shrugged. “No one said this would be easy.” He grinned at her, and the tension making her breathing difficult, faded. “Now, are you ready for lunch?”
    “More than ready.”
    By the time they returned to the dining room, they were late. Four other people were already seated at the table, two men and two women. They glanced up in unison and stared at Nora as she and Gabe walked in. Sarah came in from the opposite doorway, carrying a tray supporting a clear glass dish filled with a colorful assortment of vegetables.
    Three places were left at the end of the table nearest to the doorway Sarah had used. Trying not to blush at the unwanted attention, Nora started toward the empty seats. Her cheeks grew even hotter when she noticed that the two women had transferred their appraising gazes to Gabe.
    One of them, a brown-eyed woman with obviously dyed blond hair, unfolded her napkin, fluffed it out, and placed it in her lap, all the while eyeing Gabe. A smile curved her plump lips.
    Ridiculous though it was, Nora felt the spark of dislike ignite. Gabe could take care of himself, and Nora didn’t even know the woman. For all she knew, the blonde was blind, and the nicest cousin in the bunch.
    Nora needed to relax, eat, and stop these ridiculous reactions.
    “Sarah said you had a little accident,” the blonde said with a smile.
    Nora nodded sharply.
    “We didn’t realize it,” she continued, glancing around at the other cousins. “We were playing a video game.” Her smile widened. “There’s so little to do around here. Anyway, I’m sorry none of us came to rescue you.”
    “It’s fine,” Nora said through tight lips. “I wasn’t hurt.”
    “That’s such a relief, isn’t it?” She looked around and all the others obediently nodded in agreement.
    Nora kept walking. When she got halfway around the table, she caught Sarah’s frowning glance just as the housekeeper eased into the seat at the end of the oval table, leaving two empty place settings on her left.
    “Your cousin, Mr. Michael, insisted I join you. Normally, I would eat in the kitchen,” she explained, gazing sheepishly at Nora.
    “S-sure. N-no point eating alone,” the man sitting at the other end of the table, opposite Sarah, stuttered.
    “I agree.” Nora pulled out the chair closest to Sarah, leaving Gabe to take the chair next to another young woman.
    “I’m M-Michael J-James—your c-cousin.” Michael nodded at her and offered a tentative smile.
    He appeared to be in his early thirties, a few years older than Nora, and had a friendly expression that immediately set her at ease. When he caught her gaze, his smile grew firmer, and he nodded to Gabe. His beautiful, soft hazel eyes and long lashes were his best feature.