by Mae Clair
Chapter 19
Reagan tightened her fingers around the box containing Jeremiah Rook’s journal. She’d been so worried about Elijah meeting his sister, she’d stupidly forgotten Earl Tarvick. From what she’d gathered over the last few days, Tarvick was not a man to be trifled with and wouldn’t take losing lightly. Once she’d realized he was responsible for the flat tire on Elijah’s Jeep and locking them in the wax museum, she’d known he didn’t intend to play fair.
But a gun? Could he really be that far gone to threaten them and steal the journal?
She looked from the others to Tarvick. He must have slipped through the side door when their attention was focused on Elijah and Eden. He stood a few feet away appearing smug and in control, the pistol held like an afterthought.
“I appreciate you doing the legwork, Cross,” he told Elijah. “I would have ended up on the other side of Serenity Harbor if I hadn’t tracked you on the last clue. I couldn’t make heads or tails of the garbage Pellar fed me.”
“So you decided to cheat,” Brody said.
“I prefer the term improvise.”
Elijah snorted. “You’re not going to shoot anyone. Not even you’re that stupid.”
Reagan saw a zip-line flare of anger in Tarvick’s eyes. Stupidity had nothing to do with it. “He’s desperate,” she said, unaware she’d spoken aloud until his gaze shifted to her. His rapt attention made her feel like a specimen on a petri dish.
“An astute observation, Ms. Cassidy. You’ve no doubt all heard the squalid little rumors about the money I owe the Mob. They’re not rumors.”
“That’s too bad.” Elijah took a step forward. “But you’re still not getting the journal.”
Was he nuts? Part of her agreed with him. They’d worked too hard to hand the thing over to a snake-in-the-grass like Tarvick, but the scumbag had a gun. She wanted her Uncle Gavin to have the journal–he’d be so disappointed–but not at the risk of harm.
“You might be brilliant, boy,” Tarvick sneered. “But you’re a fool if you think I won’t use this.” He raised the gun, leveling it with Elijah’s chest. “I’ve been told in vivid detail what’s in store for me if I don’t deliver the funds I owe. That’s all the motivation I need to pull the trigger.” His gaze raked back to Reagan. “Bring me the box, Ms. Cassidy.”
She hedged, sensing an impasse. Her Uncle Gavin would never forgive her if someone suffered harm for the book, no matter how valuable its contents. Maybe she wouldn’t walk away with the journal but she’d fallen in love, and Elijah had reconnected with his sister. She wouldn’t risk spoiling any of that over something as trivial as a marine artifact.
“I’m waiting, Ms. Cassidy.”
She bobbed her head, signaling compliance, and walked to Tarvick’s side. He was taller than Elijah and Brody. A dark, powerful aura emanated from him, heightened by the crackling tension beneath the domed sky. She’d never been comfortable around him, but that uneasiness was magnified tenfold as he licked his lips and looked down on the box. Something cold and hungry glinted in his gaze when his eyes flashed to her face. “You’ll be coming with me.”
“What? No.” Elijah took another step forward, closing the distance between them. He halted abruptly when the gun swung toward his face and Tarvick snarled.
“That’s close enough, Cross.”
“You have the journal,” Elijah snapped. “Take it and get the hell out of here.”
“Not without Ms. Cassidy.”
“You don’t need her.”
“I’m afraid I do.” Tarvick’s fleshy lips curled in a grim smile. “Otherwise you’ll call the police the moment I walk out the door. She’s my insurance.”
“Fuck you. If you want to play that way, take me.”
Tarvick laughed. “You’re not as pretty as you think, Dr. Cross.” He waved the gun, motioning him back. “Step away. All of you.” His free hand slipped beneath Reagan’s arm, his grasp as flinty as his eyes. “The lady and I have a date.”
Her stomach roiled. “Don’t flatter yourself.” He smelled of coffee and peppermint gum, aftershave and the sticky sweat of contained fear. No question he was worried. For every snide remark he made, he balanced the demon of doubt. His life was on the line. Beyond desperate, he was reckless.
And that would make him careless.
He tugged hard, jerking her toward the door. Once they were outside and he stuffed her into a car, it would be over. If he had ties to the Mob, he’d have no qualms about killing her. He might even offer her, along with the money as a trinket, to get back in the Mob’s good graces for the stupid blunder he’d made.
“Tarvick, don’t do this,” Brody said, trying to inject a plea of sanity. “Take the damn journal and leave Reagan with us. I promise no one will call the police.”
He snorted, side-stepping toward the door. “Save your breath, Simpson.”
“Tarvick, I swear to God if you hurt her, I’ll fucking gut you like a fish.” Elijah strained on an invisible tether, his hands balled into fists.
Reagan’s gaze flashed to his face. She’d never heard him sound so cold or deadly. His jaw was clenched, his eyes ablaze with the promise of retribution. Her heart swelled with love for him. Beside her, Tarvick laughed, wrenching harder. He pushed the door open and a sudden flood of sunlight blinded her. She stumbled against him, using the momentum to shift forward. When his grip loosened, she dropped the box and kicked it behind her.
Tarvick cursed, the oath vulgar enough to make a sailor blush. Shoving her roughly aside, he dove for the journal.
“Reagan.” Elijah caught her arm and pulled her up against him. He pivoted and thrust her into Brody’s waiting embrace. “Kill the light.”
Eden ran for the wall panel, and the planetarium was plunged into darkness with a slap of her hand.
Tarvick snarled. He hadn’t found the journal by the sound of it. “Stay back.” He fired a warning shot. The noise exploded over them, trapped within the curved dome of the planetarium where it bounced like a star going nova. Brody shoved her to the floor, dropping quickly beside her.
“Eden?” he called.
“Here.” Reagan sensed when the other woman crept close. She felt a light touch on her hand. “Where’s my brother?”
“I don’t know.” She tried to shimmy around in order to peer over her shoulder where morning light spilled through the doorway. She couldn’t have kicked the box that far, but heard Tarvick rampaging around like a bull-elephant. “Elijah,” she whispered.
“Stay where you are.” His voice came from somewhere on the other side of the doorway. “I found the journal.”
Tarvick’s rustling stopped. Reagan held her breath, the tension in the air palpable. Why would he announce it? As soon as the crazy thought surfaced, she had her answer. He dashed for the door, drawing Tarvick’s fire.
Damn, the impossibly foolhardy man! He hadn’t found the box. More likely, his ridiculously analytical brain had told him she and the others would fare better if Tarvick’s attention was focused solely on him. No, no, no!
“Elijah!” But it was too late. He’d already bolted out the door, Tarvick on his heels. She heard the sharp report of the Glock and her heart kicked over in a terrified somersault. “Brody.”
“I’m on it.” He was past her before the words were out of his mouth. She followed suit, stumbling into the bright wash of day with Eden beside her. The raw glare of sunlight stung her eyes, forcing her to raise a hand to shield her gaze. She caught the parting glint of Brody’s hair as he edged around the planetarium. Where the hell was Elijah?
“Eden, do you have a cell? Can you call the police?”
The other woman nodded.
“Okay. Look inside and see if you can find the journal. Elijah was bluffing. I’m sure he doesn’t have it.”
Eden’s brows crimped with worry. “What about you?”
“I won’t do anything stupid.”
Well, maybe.
She sprinted toward the beach, following the track
s dug into the loose sand. The moment she crested the dune break, she saw two figures fleeing down the beach. The sun gleamed on Tarvick’s bare head as he chased after Elijah. Her lover was younger and faster, a swift streak of lean muscle and dark hair paralleling the ocean.
As if realizing he’d never catch the younger, faster man, Tarvick stopped and took careful aim with the Glock.
“No!” Her anguished scream resounded with the loud crack of the gun. It thundered in her heart, propelled her legs into motion and spurred her frantically forward.
Elijah fell, the drop of his body so abrupt her breath caught in her throat. Please, God, no. She willed him to move but he laid ragdoll limp and motionless on the sand. A wail burst from her chest.
“Reagan.” Brody caught her from behind, wrapping his arms around her.
“Let me go.” She had to see, had to know for sure. It couldn’t end this way.
He held tightly. “It won’t do any good.”
Ahead of her, Tarvick strolled nearer his quarry, the Glock hanging limply from his fingers. She wanted to scream at him that it had all been for nothing, that the journal was still in the planetarium. If she’d only gone with him at the start, Elijah would be alive. Sobbing, she turned her face against Brody’s shoulder.
“You can’t let him get away with this. Oh, Brody…we have to do something.”
He nodded and pulled away from her. She trailed behind as he approached the two men on the beach. It would all be over soon, but she was too numb to care. When Tarvick realized Elijah didn’t have the journal, would he kill them all? She hoped she’d have the chance to spit in his face before he pulled the trigger.
Tarvick reached Elijah, and stood looking down, a sneer on his fleshy lips. “Stupid ass. You should have given me the journal.” He bent, coiling his fingers around Elijah’s collar and yanked hard to roll him over.
The explosion of movement came as a shock. Reagan gasped when Elijah surged upward like a Phoenix reborn, driving his fist into Tarvick’s face. Bone crunched as the man’s head snapped backward. He staggered, reeling off balance. Before he could recover, Elijah dove at his legs, tackling him to the sand. The Glock flew in the opposite direction and Brody scooped it up.
“Elijah!” Her lips parted in a wide smile as the impossible reality washed over her. He’d been faking, playing dead. A risky gambit, but one that had blindsided Tarvick when he thought he’d held the upper hand. It was genius. Sheer, insanely mad genius.
She looked at Brody, wondering why he wasn’t brandishing the pistol and warning Tarvick to back off, when she realized Elijah didn’t need his help. Her thoroughly academic non-violent marine archeologist drove his fist into Tarvick’s jaw for the third time and knocked him cold. Winded, he fell to his butt on the sand. “Coulda…used…some help,” he wheezed at Brody.
“Nah.” Grinning good-naturedly, Brody folded his arms over his chest. “I didn’t want to spoil your fun, Doc.”
“Next time, don’t be such a pal.”
Delighted they were sniping at each other again, Reagan dropped to her knees beside Elijah and wrapped her arms around his neck. “That was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen you do.” She was uncertain if she wanted to laugh, sob, or kiss him until neither of them could think straight. “You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were dead!” That deserved a pummel on the arm with her fist.
“Ow!” Laughing, he caught her hand and pulled her against him. “I’m sorry I scared you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t outrun a bullet.”
“Smart,” Body quipped. “But what made you decide to play dead?”
Elijah tilted his head to gaze up at his friend. “I remembered Reagan telling me Pellar and the rest were actors, so I thought I’d give it a try.”
“Academy Award material you’re not, but I’m glad it saved your ass.” Brody tucked the Glock into the back of waistband as if used to handling one. It wouldn’t have surprised Reagan, given his multiple identities and incalculable wealth. The man was an enigma.
“So what do we do with him?” Brody nodded to the motionless Tarvick.
“Eden was calling the cops,” Reagan answered. She used a hand to shield her eyes, and glanced up the beach toward the planetarium. “Here she comes now.”
Together, she and Elijah stood as Eden raced up to join them. The dark-haired woman gave her brother a long hug before slipping beneath her husband’s arm. Brody tugged her close.
“Police are on their way,” she told them with a nervous glance for Tarvick. “Is he dead?”
“Conked cold,” Brody answered. “Your brother got ticked and took a few whacks at him.”
“Good.”
Reagan grinned, deciding she liked Eden. “Did you manage to find the journal?”
She nodded. “You must have kicked it harder than you thought, because it was three rows down from the door.”
Worried, Reagan bit her lip. “I hope I didn’t damage it.”
“Just the box. You knocked the lid clean off, but the journal is fine.”
“Thank God.” She breathed a sigh of relief. After everything they’d been through to obtain the coveted marine antiquity, she would have hated if she’d damaged it. From somewhere off in the distance she heard the faint wail of a police siren and relaxed against Elijah. The topsy-turvy week was winding to a close and they would soon have to part ways.
Her stomach flip-flopped.
Some realities were worse than a damaged journal.
* * * *
Reagan stepped onto the sundeck, appreciating the nighttime shadows. Dinner had been casual, no posturing and pretending. The group had shared drinks and conversation, the actors coming clean about their various roles in the treasure hunt. Pellar, whose real name was Harvey Stafford, turned out to be a salt-of-the-earth type guy who enjoyed teasing Elijah as his alter ego Felix. The two men had a good laugh over all the barbs they’d traded and how deliberately unlikable Stafford had made Felix.
Livy and Alan were as genuinely friendly as they’d appeared and Monica–real name Judith Stafford–was indeed Harvey’s wife, a woman who took her acting seriously and liked her conversations on the practical side.
After the police arrived, took statements, and escorted Tarvick off in handcuffs, Eden and Elijah had spent several hours alone catching up on the past. Reagan called her uncle and told him the good news about the journal, to which he’d responded with a resounding, “Well done, lass!”
Between everything that had occurred that day, then dinner with the group, she and Elijah hadn’t been able to catch a moment alone. Although nothing forced either to leave tomorrow, she couldn’t continue to neglect her life. She’d managed to keep tabs on her business through phone calls and emails over the last week, but it was time to take a hands-on approach.
On the flip side, Elijah would want to sequester himself with Rook’s journal for a few days, and had his research trip coming up in a several weeks. Maybe they could regroup after he returned.
Regroup.
How pathetic was that?
She leaned against the railing, letting the breeze catch her unbound hair and blow it back from her face. It smelled of salt and sea. Of cool moon-kissed sand and tidal pools. She loved the coast and could easily see herself living there one day. How ironic that she’d fallen in love with a man who treasured the ocean and its myriad secrets of ancient shipwrecks.
It was sobering to realize how much she loved him. Do-or-die, now-and-forever, life-was-empty-without-him kind of love. She’d fallen hard, but hadn’t realized how hard until she’d seen him lying motionless on the beach, Tarvick standing over him with the gun. Her world had crashed around her as if everything she’d felt and lived for had come to a screeching bone-splintering halt.
What the hell was she going to do?
She loved the man. A twenty-five-year-old marine archeologist who was as brilliantly gifted as he was gorgeous. Sometimes life was cruel. Sometimes life dealt a thirty-five-year-old woman an
impossible hand.
“Hey, what are you doing out here?”
She jerked, gradually relaxing when she realized who was behind her.
Elijah eased onto the sundeck, closing the French doors behind him. She heard the fading trail of laughter and conversation drifting from within before it was silenced behind the glass. He grinned lightly and crossed to her side, slipping his arm around her waist before leaning in for a kiss.
She responded instantly, her mouth softening beneath his and opening to the languorous sweep of his tongue. It was amazing how easily he took her breath away.
“We’ve barely had a moment alone together all day,” he murmured against her lips.
She leaned into him, sliding her hands onto his shoulders where the loose curls of his hair brushed her knuckles. “I can’t believe it’s over. For the last week, it’s like we’ve been living in another world.”
“I’m not sure I want to go back to the real one.” He tugged her snugly against him and deepened the kiss. One hand skimmed down her back and molded her bottom in a bold caress. “Do you have any idea what I’d like to do to you right now?”
“Hmm. Probably the same thing I want to do to you.”
He groaned. “You’re not helping. It’s going to be hard enough saying good-bye tomorrow.”
Her stomach lurched. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow and having him resume a life that didn’t include her. They could call, email, text. Hell, they could even Skype, but it would never be the same as spooning together in bed. She swallowed hard. “That’s tomorrow. We still have tonight.”
He drew back, his eyes the dark blue of river water in the limited light. Lightly, he traced his thumb from her cheek to her lips, his gaze intent. “I want more than tonight, Reagan. If we’d waited until after we found the journal like we originally agreed, we’d just be getting started. I know enough about you to know I’m in it for the long haul.”
“I am too.” Her heart fluttered as she realized how quickly they were moving. She wasn’t given to impulsive decisions but, after thirty-five years, she knew when something was right. “What are you suggesting?”