by Lisa Harris
Please, Grandmother, live through this so you can be angry with me about the yard.
He waited in the SUV, keeping the vehicle lights on this time, shining on the house, and probably making himself a sitting target.
He texted Nicole to warn her the intruder might have come back into the house, to stay where she was. Although, if he knew Nicole, she would have already moved them, and he was too late to advise her. He scraped a hand down his face. He needed to do something, but he was all out of ideas.
He added another text.
are you okay?
No one replied. Come on, come on, come on . . .
Nicole could be busy at the moment. But it was time to find them. He fled the vehicle. Rain drenched him again as he ran toward the house. He readied his weapon, but he had to be careful and not shoot the wrong people. He stayed out of the ring of light cast by the Range Rover. Grandmother’s house looked intimidating and haunted in the stormy night, with eerie shadows jumping out. As a kid, he’d sometimes imagined ghosts in the hallways or in the . . . hidden passageway.
If he could find the exterior entrance, he could get into the house that way and find Nicole and Grandmother. Get them out.
Reg searched the edge of the yard trying to remember the one time he and Connor had found the entrance. He paced, simultaneously searching and watching the house.
He prayed the intruder had not found them.
If they’d remained in the hidden passageway, they would be safe, unless Lulu gave them away. He walked the area hoping to find the secret doorway, searching in the general area where it should have been. Maybe Grandfather had buried it long ago. His shoes bogged down in the muck, and he slipped, falling face forward and eating mud.
Reg climbed back onto his knees, sludge and rain sliming off him.
In front of him was the secret doorway.
It was wide open.
Oh, no . . .
What did that mean? Had Grandmother and Nicole escaped and fled on foot? He would have seen them along the road if they had. They would have waved him down.
Or had the intruder known about this secret passageway? Reg climbed down into the hole and repositioned the night vision goggles. Rain poured in through the opening, making the corridors slippery. Muddied footprints along the pathway let him know that someone had recently been here. He just couldn’t know who. He held his gun high and led with it as he hurried through the old hallways dug in the earth. He could hardly believe they remained intact after all these decades.
He watched and listened for his loved ones, hoped and prayed he would find them safe and waiting for him. When he’d climbed the last set of steps and stood in the small space behind the wall in Grandfather’s study, his heart raced. Grandmother and Nicole were gone.
If they had made it out, he wasn’t sure how or where to find them. But for now, he would clear the house to make sure they had not been taken captive or worse.
A muffled gunshot in the house froze him in place.
In the dark living room, light from the vehicle outside flooded through the windows and shined on Nicole as she stood over a man’s body.
She stared at the blood gushing from an exposed area beneath the Kevlar. His lifeless eyes stared at nothing. She couldn’t save him. He was already dead.
The lights flickered on, and she jumped. Turning to face the new threat, Nicole kept her back to the wall and aimed the gun at the only path of ingress. “Get behind me, Harriet.”
Harriet did as she asked. “Careful, dear.”
Nicole tried to keep the gun steady in her trembling hands. She was stronger than this. She’d been much stronger than this.
What if she’d shot Reg? That man on the floor could have been Reg.
“Nicole! Grandmother!” Reg stepped into her line of sight. Nicole lowered the gun.
She didn’t trust herself to speak and rushed forward, jumping into his arms. She pressed her face against his shoulder. She didn’t care about anything. About their past. About the awkwardness. She only cared that he was alive. They were all alive.
Sirens blared and lights flashed outside the windows. Finally!
Tension drained out of her. She didn’t want to leave Reg’s arms. Harriet wrapped her arms around the both of them.
Reg released Nicole. “Thank you for keeping her safe.”
“What happened?” Nicole asked. “Did you get them all?”
He shook his head. “No, but you did.”
She let the gun dangle from her fingers. “Please take it. I don’t want it anymore.”
“You’ve never shot anyone?” Reg peered at her, concern in his eyes.
“I’ve never killed anyone. I watched my father take a bullet and die and I . . . Please . . .just take it.” Reg gently took it from her.
What was he thinking? Wondering how she ever made it through FBI Academy in Quantico?
“The police will want the gun as evidence anyway.” He set it on the coffee table.
Nausea rolled through her in waves. Some former agent she was. . .then again . . . I’m not an agent anymore. Nor did she want to be.
Harriet placed a hand on her shoulder. “Nicole, dear, you saved our lives. He would have shot and killed us both.”
“Hold on to that story, Grandmother,” Reg said, “and be ready to tell the authorities. Here they come. They found a way to the house despite the mudslide.”
“We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.” Harriet found a chair and took a seat.
Nicole took a deep breath. Then another. “None of these guys was the man at the garden?”
Reg shook his head.
“What man at what garden?” Harriet arched a brow.
“I’ll explain later, Harriet.” Nicole gripped her hand.
The doorbell rang.
Reg sent them both a solemn look then headed for the door. “Glad you could finally make it.” He opened the door wider. “Please come inside.”
Reg spoke with the two uniformed mud-covered sheriff’s deputies.
“You look like you could use a cup of tea, dear.” Harriet’s wrinkled hand patted Nicole’s. “You’re shaking. Let me take care of you.”
“I should be taking care of you. Come into the kitchen, and I’ll make the tea.” The house could be cordoned off as a crime scene—after all, there were a few dead guys.
But until someone instructed them on what to do, she and Harriet would sit at the table and drink tea. Besides, Nicole figured Harriet needed to do something normal-ish for a few moments. At the table, Nicole helped Harriet into a chair but realized that might have been a mistake. The dishes from their interrupted meal along with the shattered flute remained—pieces of it on the table and their plates. All of it a reminder of their traumatic experience.
The night had been hijacked by intruders. Why?
Was the man who had followed them all day and found them at Dinosaur Gardens connected to these guys? Had he hired them after he’d failed to take Nicole and Reg out?
Reg brought the deputies into the kitchen, speaking to them over his shoulder. “One of them is still alive. He can answer our questions.”
He opened the pantry door and groaned. “Looks like they didn’t want him to talk.”
The deputies must wonder how Reg, a private investigator, and an old lady had overcome what appeared to be gunmen in full tactical gear.
She thought back to that moment when she feared Lulu had met a fateful demise, only to discover she’d found the way back into the house, though Harriet had told Nicole the passageway would only lead them out. Nicole had climbed a ladder and popped the door opened to the outside, getting pummeled with rain. She’d wanted to get away from the intruders, but Harriet wouldn’t leave Lulu. Nicole hadn’t been able to lower the hatch to the tunnels so had left it open. They’d continued in the direction where Lulu had run and into the house to search for the dog. Nicole was powerless to stop Harriet in her need to rescue Lulu. They entered the house from a closet behind the
wall next to the fireplace.
Lulu suddenly barked, and Nicole followed the sound but didn’t make it out of the living room when she spotted the intruder and shot him point blank. Her instincts had kicked in, and she’d sensed the danger. She’d taken the shot without hesitation.
Killing the man, Nicole had simply been defending herself and Harriet. But the deputies would want to know the details, and given the remaining questions, what other agencies might be brought in?
“Oh, dear. I wonder if I should contact Carly to tell her I can’t make the cruise tomorrow.”
Nicole covered her hand. “Not yet. Maybe they will let you go. We want you to be safe, Harriet. This isn’t over yet. I don’t get why they sent those guys to the house to kill us. Did they really need men in tactical gear and night vision goggles to take us out? Reg and I don’t rank these kinds of men to take us out. You . . . Well. . . They don’t need mercenaries to take you out, no offense.”
“None taken.” Harriet sighed. “I’m not sure they were here tonight to take anyone out, dear.”
Had Harriet not experienced the same night as Nicole? She bit back what she wanted to say, and instead asked, “Why do you say that?”
“I think they were after the other painting.” Harriet frowned.
Nicole was definitely not tracking with Harriet. If they were only thieves, why not wait until the house was clear to steal the painting? Why all the tactical gear and guns? Why not steal the second painting when they stole the first?
Reg approached the table. “What other painting?”
Chapter Ten
The next morning, Reg tugged his jacket tighter and stood with Nicole at the pier.
With the house becoming a nightmarish crime scene, they’d quickly packed and stayed in a hotel in Olympia, then early in the morning had headed the rest of the way to the Port of Seattle, from which the cruise ship would disembark. On their way in, they had stopped so Grandmother could buy a few items for the cruise, and Nicole had grabbed a couple of changes of clothes. Who knew where this investigation would take them?
Reg waved to Grandmother, who held Lulu tightly in her arms as she practically waltzed on board with her friend, Carly. The Jacobson family had been a pillar of the community in years gone by and, after questioning all three of them, Sheriff Kramer allowed Grandmother to take the cruise, especially when Reg explained he wanted to keep her safe.
They still had no answers about the hired gunmen, but Kramer was working to identify the men, which could go a long way in finding out who had hired them. Reg and Nicole shared some of what they had gone through and how the men could be linked to any number of past investigations.
Last night’s terror still gripped Reg. Given the nature of the crimes and the men they had faced, he wouldn’t let his guard down.
A gust of wind hit him in the face. Late spring in this part of the world was a mixture of cool breezes and sunshine and rain. Whatever the weather, the cruise would be a wonderful experience for Grandmother. He considered contacting his parents. They would hold him responsible if harm came to Grandmother or his brothers. But on the other hand, if he contacted anyone in his family, they would feel compelled to return. That could potentially put them in danger as well. So Grandmother’s safety was all on him.
Was he making the right decision to send her away?
Reg had contacted his supervisor about the latest incident, but once again Tye maintained what was going on here had nothing to do with Reg or his past undercover work, though Tye would continue to monitor the situation and had informed the local field office who would decide if their involvement was required after Reg attended a debriefing there tomorrow. Tye had strongly warned Reg to both disentangle himself from the situation and stay out of the news. How could he do that with this level of criminal activity coming at them? He wouldn’t leave Nicole to face this alone.
And had he not been staying at the mansion, what would have happened to Grandmother last night? She claimed that the men had come for the painting and not a confrontation. Right. They had been over-dressed. Whatever the reason they’d shown up at the house, Reg determined to find out who was behind what happened.
Grandmother had taken the deputies down to the basement where she claimed the second painting had been stored only to find it had been stolen. Muddy booted footprints had been left behind tracking in to the spot where Grandmother had stored the missing painting. Reg and the deputies reasoned that an additional intruder had been in the house and escaped with the painting. Was the rest simply a distraction tactic? The intruders thought they would terrorize them into submission and hiding while the painting was taken?
At least the sheriff’s offices would have footprints as evidence, but Reg wasn’t sure there would be much more.
That was a lot of trouble for a painting, and it could be telling. They could be dealing with a group involved in much more than trafficking art. A terrorist group maybe. Even ISIS used stolen cultural property and art to fund their illegal activities—it was just one revenue stream, and the thought of it, the nature of the break-in last night filled him with dread.
And Grandmother’s paintings, which had been in the family for years and even stolen by the Nazis—a fact to which he hadn’t been privy—what was their market value anyway? He intended to find out. Was it memory loss? Something he’d known in the past and had forgotten?
He scraped a hand through his hair. How could he know? What did it matter now? She was in trouble. He was glad to see her boarding the cruise ship and had promised to text her regularly and let her know how the investigation was going. Of course, he would temper his texts. He wanted her to enjoy her time and not worry about them.
Leaning against the rail, he sensed Nicole watching him and turned to look at her. Her blue-gray eyes shimmered bright and beautiful and could almost make him forget their lethal situation.
Then again, the trust he saw in her gaze reminded him he would do everything in his power to keep her safe and end this once and for all.
Last night, he’d been terrified the two women he loved were in trouble.
Loved? Did he love Nicole?
That was a strong word, since he’d only spent a few hours with her after not seeing her for years, but he’d loved her before and he couldn’t be sure that he didn’t still love her. He took in Nicole’s face. Her beautiful features, the strong will so obviously projected in the tilt of her chin. The determination in her eyes. She’d been driven to one end—to solve her father’s murder—and Reg had known that back then. Still he let himself fall for her. In the end, her mission in life had trumped the possibility of a future she might have shared with him.
He’d been devastated, but he’d gotten over it and moved on, forging his own future.
And when the FBI had gotten in Nicole’s way, she’d resigned from one of the most elite law enforcement agencies in the world to investigate on her own—all to find her father’s killer.
Reg could not allow his heart to get entangled with her again. He would keep telling himself that, but he had the feeling his heart had a mind of its own.
Nicole appeared to struggle to speak. Then her striking eyes drifted over his face and caught on his gaze. He could look into her eyes forever. At least a lifetime.
No . . .
He started to move away, but she caught his arm and forced him to look at her.
“Reg. I . . . When I heard gunfire, I feared the worst. I couldn’t know that you weren’t shot. I didn’t want to think it or believe it, but the possibility was there. And for a moment, I thought I’d lost you. That something had happened. I . . .” She shook her head, struggling to speak, and stared over the water for a few breaths before turning back to him. “All I could think was that I would give anything to see you again. To see you alive and well. And then you called out and you stood in the foyer. I’d never been more relieved in my life.”
What was she saying, exactly? Did she still care about him? Was this a way of opening the doo
r to their past? Against his better judgement, he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “Thank you for watching out for Grandmother.”
Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes. “Of course. I couldn’t let you down. I couldn’t let her get hurt. But . . . I could have lost you. And I could have been the one to shoot you.”
Nicole stepped into his arms.
That was it, then. He wouldn’t deny her, so help him God, he could never deny this woman. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Grandmother would be safe for a week. They had a week to find the man responsible for trying to take them out. Was this all truly wrapped around a painting or two?
Finally she stepped away from him. “What now, Reg? How do we begin to unravel this in the short time we have?”
He gestured toward the parking lot and they headed that way.
Nicole couldn’t think what to do next, and honestly, she was still a bit traumatized. Yesterday had been one for the history books, or at least the personal journal. Maybe eventually a law enforcement textbook. Her body still trembled under the surface. The last thing she wanted was for Reg to think she was weak.
Pull yourself together. All these years searching for a killer, and now she was actually facing killers of unknown provenance—she inwardly chuckled at her play on words there—and she didn’t have the guts to follow through?
Shoot. The last thing she wanted was to believe herself weak. She didn’t trust herself to speak and waited for Reg to share his thoughts.
“Here’s what we do,” he said. “We act like the experienced professionals that we are. You haven’t forgotten your training. What’s your next move? Grandmother hired you for a reason, remember?”
“Yeah, that was only part of the reason.” Oh, why had she said that?
“And what was the other reason?” Reg faced her again, leaning against the rail.
“Come on, Reg. Don’t pretend you don’t know. She wanted us to work together.”