In the Dead of Night (Harlequin Intrigue #1020)

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The headlights of the rental car cut through rain and fog and darkness. Gripping the steering wheel, Sara Douglas inched along the narrow coast road at a snail's pace, not daring to look over the guardrail where the landscape dropped away to the rocky shore a hundred feet below.The house had been calling to her for quite some time. Years, in fact, but Sara had never heeded that nagging little voice. Her job as a costume designer kept her far too busy to listen to frivolous voices inside her head. Certainly not when it came to the terrible chain of events that had shattered her life twenty years ago.The phone call two days ago had changed everything.Even now, the memory of the electronically altered voice sent a chill skittering up her spine. Why would someone call her and dredge up a past she'd spent a lifetime trying to forget? Who would go to such lengths to hide their identity and why? Sara intended to find out.Midnight was not the best time to arrive at a sprawling old mansion you haven't seen for two decades. She'd planned on arriving in the light of day, but her flight from San Diego to San Francisco had been delayed due to mechanical problems. She'd taken a puddle jumper to the Shelter Cove Airport, a tiny facility that served much of northwestern California known as the Lost Coast. By the time she retrieved her luggage and rented a car, it was nearly ten o'clock.A leaning mailbox overgrown with a tangle of vines alerted her that she'd reached her destination. She turned the car into the weed-riddled driveway. The old Douglas mansion loomed before her like some aging Hollywood actress. Shrouded in mystery and glamour and scandal, the house was perched high above the rocky cliffs overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The old place seemed to cry as it looked out over the black expanse of sea. Twenty-five years ago Sara's father, Richard Douglasan up-and-coming Hollywood producer at the timedesigned and built it for his family. A dream home that should have been filled with children and laughter and happiness.A double murder and suicide five years later turned his dream into a nightmare, the mansion into a dark legend and the setting for even darker stories.Sara and her sister, Sonia, had inherited the property. They'd rented out the old place a dozen times over the years. They'd discussed selling it more than once, even going so far as to put it on the real estate market. But the house hadn't sold. Later, the real estate agent told them no one wanted a house that had been the backdrop for the worst crime in the history of Cape Darkwood.The headlights illuminated the battered mahogany garage door through slashing rain. Sara put the vehicle in Park and killed the engine. For an instant the only sound came from the pounding of rain on the roof."Welcome home," she whispered. But her voice sounded strained in the silence of her car.Not giving herself time to debate the wisdom of coming here tonight, she threw open the door and stepped into the driving rain. Darting to the rear of the car, she heaved her suitcase from the trunk and started toward the front door. Around her the cold air smelled of the ocean and wet foliage.She rolled the suitcase up the slate walkway to the tall beveled-glass door and jammed her key into the lock. A single twist and the door groaned open. The odors of dust, mildew and years of neglect greeted her. She'd called ahead and had the utility companies turn on the electricity and phone. As her hand fumbled along the wall in the darkness, she fervently hoped they had.A sigh of relief slid from her lips when her fingers found the switch and light flooded the foyer. For a moment, Sara could do nothing but stare at the majesty of the double spiral staircase. Constructed of marble and mahogany, twin stairs curved