Free Land's End by Marta Perry

living room door that still stood open. “It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”
    He turned. Farrell lounged in the doorway, watching them. The man wore an odd, avid expression that turned his stomach. It couldn’t be true. But even as he thought the words, he realized he wasn’t sure.
    He crossed the room in a few long strides, propelled by…what? The need to prove her wrong? Or the fear that she was right?
    â€œIs that true? Did you do this?” He swept a hand toward the chaos behind them in the bedroom.
    Farrell straightened at his approach. “No, sir. I don’t know what she’s been telling you, but I wouldn’t do anything like this. That’d be breaking and entering, destruction of property. I draw the line at that.”
    â€œDo you?” His voice went soft, cold. He recognized that evasion for what it was. “You wouldn’t come into the cottage, but you’d slash Dr. Wainwright’s tires?” Small wonder Sarah had sneered at his attempt to separate one action from another. He felt the same way.
    Farrell darted a glance from him to Sarah and back again.“Not saying I did anything, but maybe Miz Wainwright ought to be more careful where she goes.”
    Something about the snide tone went right through the control he’d thought he had. His hands shot out and grabbed the man’s shirt almost before he realized what he was doing.
    â€œ Dr. Wainwright,” he snapped. “You refer to Dr. Wainwright in a respectful way, understand?” His grip tightened. “Now tell me the truth, before I—”
    He stopped, appalled. Was he really offering the man violence? He let go. Sometimes it seemed his anger had been bubbling beneath the surface since Lynette died. This act had brought it surging out.
    Farrell took a careful step back, straightening his shirt. A sulky look replaced the sneer.
    â€œNot saying I did, but what if I had? Maybe I prowled around outside here, just to keep an eye on things. Maybe I messed with the tires. So what? The cops won’t be interested.”
    He could only stare at the man. Farrell had admitted it. He’d actually slashed Sarah’s tires, and he stood there acting as if it were all in a day’s work.
    â€œWhy?” The fury returned, full force, and he clenched his fists to keep from grabbing Farrell again. “Who told you to do such a thing?”
    Farrell looked at him blankly. “You did. You wanted her gone. It was my job to make that happen. I only did what you wanted me to do.”
    Â 
    Sarah wasn’t sure how to take what she was seeing. Trent’s shock and anger seemed real enough, but she didn’t believe for a minute that she could accept anything he said or did at face value. He was too good at hiding his feelings.
    â€œLet me understand this.” His voice had dropped until itwas a low, even pitch, but that didn’t make it any less deadly. His tone was so icy that it was a wonder Farrell didn’t stiffen into a frozen block. “You heard me say I wanted Dr. Wainwright to leave the island, so you thought that gave you carte blanche to commit criminal acts to make that happen.”
    Farrell moved restlessly, his gaze evading Trent’s. Hardly surprising—she wouldn’t want to meet those frigid eyes, either.
    â€œI just did what I thought you wanted me to do,” he mumbled.
    â€œWrong on all counts, but I suppose that’s what I should expect from an incompetent imbecile.”
    Farrell’s head snapped up at that. “Hey, I—”
    â€œQuiet.” Trent still didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t need to. His scorn could flay a person without that. “You’re fired. Get out of my sight and off my island.”
    â€œBut—”
    Trent extended his hand, palm up. “Give me your keys.”
    â€œListen, I didn’t mean anything. I thought I was doing what you wanted me to do.” He