“Stop,” Natalie said suddenly. “Wait, let’s think about this for a minute.”
Glancing up at her strained expression, Jude stood in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“All this money,” she said, her voice tight. “It’s wrong. It was gotten through illegal means.”
“So? Would you rather Peterson get his hands on it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Natalie paced away from him, toying with her braid. “It’s not like this is an inheritance, Jude. Bart got this by breaking the law.”
“He broke the law. You didn’t.”
Pausing, her arms over her chest, she stared at the money he had pulled up. “The authorities might not let me keep it.”
“And then again, they might. Look, Natalie, this money is doing no one any good sitting up here. Let’s get it out and go from there.”
After a long pause, she nodded. “What are we going to put it all in?”
Jude glanced at the trunks. “Those?”
“Too bulky. I have some soft-sided bags, suitcases, in the house. After the guests are asleep, I’ll go get them.”
“Sounds good.”
Jude returned to pulling up boards and removing the bundles as Natalie pulled the plastic from them and stacked them neatly. “We could be at this all night,” she remarked.
“Could you sleep knowing this was up here?”
Natalie laughed. “No way.”
The hours crawled by as they systematically made their way around the attic, pulling up boards, insulation, and then the bundles of cash. The piles grew and expanded, and they speculated on Bart’s care in wrapping and concealing his loot.
“He must have spent some of it on himself,” Natalie suggested. “Not enough for anyone to notice, and hoarded the rest.”
“And if he needed cash,” Jude continued for her, “he could just come here and secretly take some.”
“Right. Maybe he did plan on spending it, but he never lived a lavish lifestyle.”
“One of the reasons he never got caught. He was too careful.”
At two in the morning, Natalie felt the need to take a break. “I’m going downstairs for water and the bags,” she said. “Want anything?”
“Wine?”
“What a lovely idea.”
Leaving the trap door open and the stairs down, Natalie vanished as Jude continued to work. They had covered roughly half the attic’s space, and he suspected they would be at this labor until dawn. When Natalie returned, she piled the nylon bags on the floor, then pulled the stairs up and shut the panel.
“Take a break,” she said.
Jude obeyed and sat on the floor as they drank the bottles of water, wine from the plastic cups she had brought. “We’re going to have a devil of a time counting all this,” she said. “They’re of all denominations.”
“Do you have an idea of how much?” he asked.
“Enough to buy this place ten times over. And that’s only what we’ve found so far.”
Jude drank his wine. “Plenty of motive for Peterson to want to kill you in order to get his hands on this.”
Exhausted and hungry, Jude and Natalie laid back down the last board near dawn. The bags were packed at tightly as possible, and there were still cash in stacks on the floor. “I am going to give myself an ulcer worrying about all this money,” Natalie commented as Jude hid the last stacks in a trunk.
“I’ll come back later and put the rest in more bags, bring them down,” Jude said as they headed for the trap door.
Walking down the hallway with the heavy bags slung over their shoulders, Natalie murmured her concern that an early riser might spot them and ask questions. Yet that didn’t happen, and within a few minutes, they were piling the bags in a closet in the spare bedroom of her house.
“There’s enough money sitting right there that I’d never have to work again,” she said on a sigh as she swung the closet door closed.
“I think you could live the rest of your life with only a quarter of it,” Jude replied, stretching his sore and tired muscles.
Natalie led the way to her sitting room, where she plopped wearily onto a couch. “There’s no way I could hide this kind of money and live on it,” she said. “People will ask questions.”
“I don’t know,” Jude answered, yawning, leaning his arm against the arm of the sofa. “Put it back into your business.”
“That’s called money laundering,” she replied. “Very illegal.”
“I doubt you’d get caught.” He grinned at her. “You’re as smart and careful as Bart was.”
After showering and dressing for the day, Jude followed Natalie to the dining room where the guests had gathered for breakfast. He sat at their table as Natalie wended her way among the diners, smiling, laughing, enjoying their company as much as they enjoyed hers.
With the burden of the additional guests, Natalie had hired a new waitress who took their order, then went to the kitchen with it. Natalie, sitting in her chair, gazed at him with green eyes that now held dark circles under them.
“Now I’m scared to death someone, Peterson, maybe,” she murmured, “will find the money and take it.”
Jude grinned, sipping his coffee. “Haven’t you ever heard how dragons guard hoards of treasure?”
“This isn’t The Hobbit,” Natalie hissed. “How can you work, watch over that, and guard me?”
“We move the bags to your office.”
His simple answer dropped Natalie’s jaw. “Not out in the open?”
“Why not? The guests carry suitcases and bags all the time.”
She stirred her coffee, thinking. “If anyone asks, I can say I’m holding them for a guest until they get back from a day trip.”
“See how easy that is?”
“The safe isn’t big enough for all of them,” Natalie went on. “We can hide the rest in the office closet.”
“After we eat, I’ll go get the rest from the attic. I hope you have more bags like those?”
“Yeah, tons of them. How many do you need?”
“At least two.”
“I’ll get them for you when we bring the others here.”
The waitress brought their food with a professional smile, and Jude handed her a tip from his pocket. Her face lit, and her grin turned more genuine. Natalie scowled as the woman clearly checked out Jude’s looks, making him smirk.
“Jealous?” he asked after the waitress left.
“I didn’t hire her to size up my man,” she retorted.
“Your man, eh?” Jude laughed as he hungrily devoured his breakfast.
“That’s right. She better keep her eyes to herself.”
Amused by Natalie’s jealousy, Jude ate his meal while they spoke of anything except the money. “With all the bookings,” Natalie said, “I can start paying myself a salary again, and begin yours.”
Jude frowned. “You haven’t been paying yourself?”
“Nope. Everything had to go into maintaining this place, paying the employees, buying the food and booze. I ate, I had a roof over my head.” Natalie grinned. “I didn’t need much.”
Jude thought but didn’t say aloud, Now she has plenty of money. “Maybe its time you took a vacation.”
“No time for that. If things continue this well, then maybe around Christmas, I will. I can hire a manager to run things while I oversee, and you continue to market us and keep our brand out there.”
“I’ll do whatever you need, of course.”
After finishing the meal, Jude and Natalie casually carried the bags of money to the office without anyone eyeing them with curiosity or asking questions. With the large number of guests coming and going with bags and suitcases, they melded in with everyone else.
Jude grabbed the empties. “I won’t be long,” he said. “Stay in the office, please.”
Natalie grinned. “I have a fortune to guard.”
Leaving her, Jude strode to the stairs, then went up them to the top floor, offering
nods of greetings to people he passed. Georgette was already beginning her work, and Jude wondered if she could keep up with the sheer number of rooms to clean every day. Natalie should hire another maid.
The attic was as they had left it and Jude rapidly filled the bags with the cash from the trunk. Returning below, he got lucky when no one happened to be in the hall as he raised the stairs, closed the panel, and returned the pole to the closet. Looking every bit a traveler with the bags over his shoulder, he made his way down the stairs again.
Natalie was on the phone at her desk as he slung the bags into the closet with the rest of them, then shut the door. Turning around, hoping Natalie could lock it, Jude recoiled at the sight of Lloyd Peterson standing in the doorway, a gun pointed at Jude’s chest.
Chapter Thirteen
“Let me call you back,” Natalie said, then slowly hung the phone up.
Peterson stepped into the room and closed the office door. “Where is it?” he asked, his tone soft.
“Where is what?” Jude answered, clearly unafraid while Natalie felt her mouth go dry. Jude can’t change into his dragon in here; we’ll both be shot.
“I know you found Bart’s money.” Peterson’s lips skinned back from his teeth in a feral smile. “What did you do with it?”
“There’s no money, Peterson,” Natalie told him. “It’s a rumor, a ghost. It didn’t exist. We looked, but if Bart had a fortune hidden, he hid it someplace else.”
Peterson, since the last time she saw him fully, appeared to have aged by years. His skin sagged, there was more silver in his hair; he didn’t look nearly as handsome as she had first considered him. “I saw the lights in the attic,” he snapped, his gray eyes hard on hers. “All night.”
“We searched,” Natalie told him, her voice calm. “We found nothing.”
Peterson’s eyes flickered, and she held a moment of hope that he believed her. Then his terrible grin intensified as his attention shifted to Jude. “Tell me, or I’ll put ten bullets in your boyfriend.”
Does he not remember seeing Jude as a dragon? Why is he not terrified of him and what he is capable of? “I’m telling you the truth,” she cried, letting her desperation loose in her voice. “There’s nothing there.”
“Lloyd.”
Jude’s quiet voice sent a thrill through her as now Peterson’s grip on the gun trembled slightly; his eyes widened as the menace emerging from Jude was all but palpable. “You know what will happen to you, Lloyd,” Jude continued. “Care for another taste of my fire?”
“I imagined it.” Peterson licked his lips, sweat now oozing down his temples. “I thought I saw a monster, but I didn’t. You’re just a man.”
“Am I?”
Jude partly shifted, his dragon emerging huge and black, wings half spread, before returning to his man’s body. Peterson gave a small shriek of terror, raising the gun toward Jude. “You haven’t the speed it would take to fire that gun before my fire roasts you alive.”
His face a ghastly pale, Peterson shook so hard, Natalie wondered how the gun hadn’t already gone off. She stood up, not knowing exactly what she planned to do. Peterson swiveled and pointed the gun at her.
Jude moved.
Faster than she ever thought possible, Jude ducked low and charged Peterson. Swinging the gun back around at the newest threat, Peterson fired, the barking explosion loud in the closed room. Jude must have anticipated that, for the shot missed him completely. Tackling Peterson around the waist, he took him down to the floor.
Silently, Natalie cheered Jude on as the two fought, punching, kicking, cursing, striking at one another. Surely Jude, young, strong, and a dragon, would prevail. But Peterson had a weapon, and he used it to good effect.
Swinging it around, he hit Jude on the side of the head, just above his ear. With a grunt, Jude fell back onto the carpet, Natalie suppressing her cry of shock and horror. As Peterson lumbered to his feet, panting, his nose bleeding, he pointed the gun straight down at Jude’s inert body.
“No!” Natalie screamed.
She seized a glass paperweight in her hand and threw it at Peterson as hard as she could. The missile struck him on his shoulder, and the gun went off again, the bullet buried in the floor. He cursed in pain and went to aim the gun again.
Natalie had wasted no time. The instant the paperweight left her hand, she had run around her desk. Dashing toward Peterson, yelling for all she was worth, she body-slammed him before he could shoot Jude. With her weight throwing him off balance, he hit the wall as she fought and scratched at his face, clawing for the gun.
Peterson swore, then backhanded her hard across her cheek. Brightness flaring behind her eyes, Natalie reeled backward and fell to the floor. I’m dead; we’re both dead. Blinking, her face on fire and blood trickling down her cheek, she waited for the gunshot. It never came.
Drawn by the sounds of the shots and the struggle, Rick, Jane, and three male guests charged into the room, slapping the door back on its hinges. “Natalie,” Rick yelled.
Flailing with his gun, Peterson charged through the men before they knew what was happening. Amid the screams and yells of the guests outside, Natalie suspected he charged through them, making his escape, using fear to get them out of his way.
“Natalie?”
Rick helped her sit up, his worried eyes on her cheek. “Did Peterson just try to kill you?” he demanded. “We heard the gunfire, came running.”
Two of the guests squatted beside Jude, asking him if he could sit up. The third was on his cell phone, calling for the police and an ambulance. Relief, like a warm wave, washed through Natalie as Jude did indeed sit up, wincing as he touched the spot on his head where Peterson hit him.
“I’m all right,” he told them. “Bastard hit me.”
“Are you hurt, Natalie?” Rick asked, holding her hand as she, too, fought to get up.
“I’m okay,” she stammered, grateful for his help. “Damn, he hits hard.”
Feeling the tender spot on her cheek, Natalie stumbled to a chair and sat down. Consumed by the shakes now that the adrenaline rush had faded, she breathed raggedly for a few minutes while she tried to regain her calm. Jane stepped to her side, holding her hand tightly, then offered a wan smile when Natalie met her eyes.
“Cops are on their way,” the guest with the phone announced.
The other two helped Jude to a chair as more guests gathered in the doorway, gaping at the scene inside. Unable to ask them to go away, Natalie clung to Jane’s hand, glad for the other woman’s reassuring presence.
Despite the questions aimed at them, Natalie shook her head when they wanted to know why that man came in with a gun. At last, she said, “Let’s wait for the police.”
The wait was indeed a short one. Dave, accompanied by Sheriff Rob Hutton, entered through the milling mass of watchers. Dave’s grim glance took in everything at once. “Peterson?” he asked, his voice tight.
“Yeah,” Natalie answered.
Turning, he waved at the crowd. “Go on, people, go back to your business. Read about it in the paper.”
Disbanding, the watchers moved away, muttering, asking questions of one another, playing the guessing game. Hutton eyed the others in the room, and when Natalie explained they charged in when they heard the commotion, he let them stay. They were witnesses, after all, and he would need their accounts of what had happened.
The EMTs arrived before Dave or Rob could begin their questioning of Natalie and Jude, but the cops took the others to the side to get their versions of events. Natalie submitted to the paramedic’s examination of her and assured him she was all right, her eyes on Jude.
Reassured by the strength of his voice, his words telling the EMT that he didn’t need to go to the hospital, Natalie pondered what to tell Rob and Dave. Once the paramedics had packed up and left, Rob pulled up a chair next to Natalie and gazed at her sternly.
“What happened?”
She told him everything except that she and Jude had actually found Ba
rt’s treasure, and, of course, of Jude shifting to intimidate Peterson. “Jude charged him when he was distracted and took him down. They fought, but Peterson hit him with the gun. I threw that paperweight over there when he was going to shoot Jude, then I went at him.”
Hutton’s eyes widened. “You? You little thing?”
Lifting her chin, Natalie glared at him. “He was going to shoot the man I love. What did you expect me to do?”
“Is that when he hit you?” Hutton asked.
“Yeah. I was down on the floor, but Rick, Jane, and those other guys ran in, and Peterson took off.”
“What did you do when you went at him?”
“I scratched at his face at first, then tried to get the gun from him.”
Hutton clicked his tongue. “Risky move. You really love this guy?”
The question shocked a laugh from her. “Yeah, I do.”
Natalie glanced at Jude sitting in the chair with his head bandaged, answering Dave’s questions. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I fell in love with him.”
“I reckon that’s not a bad thing. He seems a good enough feller. Now, Peterson came in demanding Bart’s money?”
Natalie nodded. “He seemed to think we found it, but we didn’t.”
“Most likely ain’t there to find. Now tell me again how Jude there attacked him?”
For the next few hours, Natalie and Jude were subjected to interviews and questions. Rick, Jane, and the others were permitted to leave after giving their statements. By the time Hutton stood up, Natalie’s face hurt very badly, and Jude’s face was almost as pale as Peterson’s was.
Hutton gazed at her with sympathy. “You get some rest now, Natalie. You and your man. Glad he was here to keep you among the living.”
“What are you going to do about Peterson?”
“Find him,” Hutton replied succinctly. “Arrest him, charge him. You get some rest now.”
He and Dave left, and Natalie was finally alone with Jude. He saw her looking at him and lifted a small grin. “You’re a tough little mite, aren’t you?” he said.
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