“What a fascinating story Kam has,” Anne said, shaking her head in amazement. “I’ve never met anyone like him, and I’ve met my fair share of singular men,” she added with a droll glance at Ian and James.

“Given his medical background and experience with Gaines, it’s no wonder he’s come up with all the brilliant technology he has,” Francesca said. “Did Ian tell you he’s sold his biotech patents for millions of dollars to a pharmaceutical company? They’re going to make these revolutionary medical watches with his invention. The watches do everything from sending off a warning for an impending heart attack to tell a woman when the prime time is to get pregnant, and dozens of other valuable things besides. It’s a biofeedback mechanism, so the wearer will constantly be educated as to their responses to the external world.”

“Kam took what Trevor Gaines had started with his perverse obsessions and twisted greed and turned it into something that can really make a positive difference,” Ian said, referring to not only Gaines’s mechanical genius, but the fact that he had been obsessed with the “clockwork” type cycles of a woman’s body in order to impregnate his victims. Kam had told Ian and Francesca that Gaines was interested in finding ways to measure and predict human biology, and had started to experiment casually. But it was Kam who had seen the far-reaching potential and furthered the work in a meaningful, groundbreaking way.

Ian glanced sideways at Francesca when she placed her hand on his thigh. A deep, profound sense of gratitude went through her at the growing peace in his voice when he spoke of his biological father. He was still appalled by who Gaines was as a man, but he understood him better objectively. Ian had been right all along, Francesca now admitted freely. Something about gathering information on Gaines, understanding his past and his surroundings and his work habits and his obsession—it had helped Ian get the distance he needed from his biological father. After speaking with Kam in detail about his shared past with Gaines, in addition to discovering some journals that had belonged both to Gaines’s mother and Trevor himself, Ian had begun to suspect that Gaines had been abused as a young man by his new stepfather, Alfred Aurore. Gaines had despised Aurore, but the true target of his hatred was his mother, who had put him in harm’s way and then done nothing to protect him. This, despite the fact that Gaines insinuated in his journals she knew the truth of what her new husband was doing to her son. That had, perhaps, been at the core of Gaines’s hatred of women and his desire to force himself both into their bodies and their very existences, with a child. No woman’s life could fail to be altered by a child, even if Trevor’s mother had endeavored to deny that truth with her own son.

Ian freely admitted he’d probably never see the full, complex picture of Gaines, but even the more substantial outline of the man’s motivations and life seemed to calm him.

She thought the bulk of Gaines’s poisonous legacy had been miraculously extracted that night when she’d arrived at Aurore, and Ian had risked death for her. Some things were bigger even than a sociopathic parent, and that night had taught Ian what was really at the core of him. Ian had agreed to further his healing, meeting with a support group occasionally made up of other children of rape, trying to understand his shame and come to terms with it.

A small smile flickered across Ian’s mouth as he studied Francesca presently, as if he had sensed her thankfulness as she looked up at him.

“I would never have thought anything good could come from the legacy of a man like Trevor Gaines, but it seems I learn about new things every day. Thanks to you,” he continued more quietly, speaking to Francesca. “I can see and appreciate that now.”

“If it weren’t for your searching, you would have never been able to find the treasures that you have,” she replied softly.

She became so lost in his eyes, it took her a moment to absorb Anne’s brisk voice.

“Well, it’s off to bed for me,” Anne said brightly, giving James a significant look. James immediately set down his brandy glass.

“Oh no. I . . . We didn’t mean to run you off,” Francesca said contritely, realizing she’d been staring at Ian, entranced, making the couple feel awkward, no doubt. She felt an almost magical connection with her husband in those moments, a bond forged by the trials they’d faced in order to be together and the rich promise of the future. She couldn’t wait to spend time with him alone, but there were still several important things they needed to talk to Anne and James about at the moment.

“Ian wants to speak with you both about what the police in London and Detective Markov told him about Gerard,” Francesca reminded them.

She regretted bringing up such a heavy topic when she saw Anne’s and James’s expressions grow solemn, but at the same time, it was important news. Ian had already told her everything on the phone before he’d arrived, and they’d processed it together. She was glad he was the one who was going to first break the news to Anne and James, not the police. It was the elderly couple who had been most devastated by learning of Gerard’s true nature and his subsequent death in the hospital the day after he’d been shot, after all.

In the hospital, Ian and she had agreed not to tell Anne and James about the fact that Gerard had hinted he’d had a hand in his mother and father’s death. They had no solid proof, and the suspicions would just pain James even more than the clear-cut knowledge of his nephew’s true nature. He’d adored his sister, and Gerard’s father had been a lifetime friend.

“What have you found out?” James asked Ian.

“The Metropolitan police recently had a huge shakedown amongst their ranks. There were dozens of detectives and policemen who were charged with colluding in drugs and arms trafficking.”

“I read about it in the paper,” James said.

“One of the detectives arrested was a man by the name of Jago Teague,” Ian explained. He scowled slightly. “Teague sounds like a real piece of work. He’s dealt in the underground drug trade and sold arms illegally for years now. In his other life, he was a decorated detective and upholder of the law.”

“What’s Teague got to do with Gerard?” Anne asked.

“Teague agreed to give names of various people he’s given illegal services to over the years in exchange for a lighter sentence. One of the names he gave as being a high-profile customer was Gerard’s. After they’d taken down his confession, someone at the Metropolitan Police called Detective Markov here in Stratham and filled him in.”

Francesca studied Anne’s and James’s faces anxiously in the heavy silence that followed. “Teague confessed to selling an unmarked gun to Gerard six months ago and buying the gun back from him two nights later. Upon Gerard’s specific instructions, he then sold the gun again to a man that fit the description of Anton Brodsik. Gerard sent Brodsik to Teague,” Ian said grimly. “It was a set up. He put the gun that killed Shell Stern into Brodsik’s hands. He set up Brodsik to look like Stern’s murderer, and then killed Brodsik with Grandfather’s gun.”

“I don’t understand,” said Anne, shaking her head. “Why did Gerard orchestrate all these things with Brodsik and Stern if he planned to kill you and Francesca himself and make it look like a murder-suicide?”

“I’m guessing he had no choice but to hire Brodsik and Stern in Chicago. Once he had, he needed to get rid of them. They knew too much, and could either blackmail him or implicate him if suspicion was ever cast on Gerard.”

“Then why hire them in the first place?” James asked.

“To bring Ian out of hiding,” Francesca said quietly. “Ian thinks Gerard tried to acquire Ian’s company in a hostile takeover with his original plan for the Tyake acquisition. Ian has discovered that Gerard is the anonymous primary owner of the acquisition loan company he proposed that we use. He would have become the primary holder of Noble Enterprise shares if Noble defaulted on payment in even the smallest way—something Gerard could have easily manipulated to happen if he was left in any position of power on the board.”

James’s expression went flat. “But . . . Anne and I have used that loan company before.”

“I know,” Ian said. “And fortunately, Gerard never used his influence in your case unduly. I get the impression he was very methodical and very patient in the way he set up his chess game, getting all the circumstances and players just right. And it was never you he wanted revenge upon, Grandfather. It was me.”

“All because of James’s properties and money?” Anne asked, looking both stunned and outraged at once. “I can’t believe it. And to think, we had no idea he was so affected by your arrival when you were a child, Ian.”

“It changed the outline of his life, my showing up here one day out of nowhere. It’s disappointing, and it’s very upsetting, what Gerard did,” Ian said quietly. “But it’s not outside the realm of believability.”

James sighed, and again Francesca’s heart ached for him. “We’ve never mentioned it, but Gerard did frequently wonder about your mental stability in our presence. I suppose it was all part of his manipulation to make us think it was possible you could take your own and Francesca’s life. We were concerned for you, but we never doubted your sanity, Ian. We knew your torment was of the emotional variety.”

Ian stroked the back of Francesca’s hand. She turned over her palm and squeezed him for comfort. “It was a hard time for me. And I suppose people really have gone over the edge from less. There were times in the months when I was at Aurore, before I returned to Belford, that I could almost agree with Gerard’s insinuations. I’m not surprised you were worried,” he told his Grandfather sincerely before he exhaled. “At any rate, once Gerard learned what I was doing in my absence, and understood who Trevor Gaines was, he must have been ecstatic to be provided with such an ideal setting for my downfall. I was at the desolate country manor of a condemned criminal and obsessed madman. The perfect place for Trevor Gaines’s son from rape to finally tip over the edge.”

“I can’t believe these thoughts ever went through his mind,” Anne said numbly. “I can’t believe that, let alone that he’d act on them. He shot that man Brodsik in cold blood, right in this house?”

Ian nodded. “I suspect he invited him here, although we’ll probably never know the exact circumstances.”

“It’s positively diabolical,” James said. His face looked gray. Francesca looked at Ian anxiously.

“It’s over,” Ian said firmly. “It’s all over, and we’re safe. I only wanted to tell you because Markov also wanted to pass the news on to you. The murder occurred in your home, after all, and he owes you an explanation about the resolution of the investigation. I told him I would break the news first.”

James inhaled slowly. “And I appreciate it, son.”

“Are you all right?” Francesca asked James softly after a moment.

James seemed to try and rally, but she saw his struggle to do so. He grabbed Anne’s hand. “I’ll be better, to be honest, after a good night’s sleep,” he said with false cheerfulness. “I’d like nothing better than to leave all this in the past.”

“I agree,” Anne said. “Especially on such a beautiful night when we’ve just put up Francesca’s painting and have so much to be thankful for.”

“We do have so much to be thankful for.”

Anne blinked, her gaze sharpening on Francesca when she spoke so fervently. Francesca smiled, knowing her secret was undisguised in her eyes, and that Anne, who was no fool, was reading it. An uncanny expression flickered across Anne’s face. Francesca exchanged a meaningful look with Ian. It’d felt like a miracle, to be able to share such a precious gift with him, but to share it with Anne and James felt wonderful as well.

“We have more news,” Ian said. “Much, much nicer news.”

“No . . .” Anne whispered. “Yes?” she asked hopefully when Francesca just continued to beam at her.

“What? What’s going on?” James asked dubiously.

“Ian and Francesca are going to have a baby?” Anne asked tremulously, hope and incredulity twining in her voice.

Ian pulled Francesca close and she hugged him in turn, pressing her cheek to his chest while still looking at Anne and James.

“Yes, we’re going to have a baby,” Ian said, his deep voice gruff. “Francesca is always telling me I need to think about the future, not the past. Now it’s all I think of.”