Hidden Sins

by Selena Montgomery

  Chapter 17

  Spectacular though the chamber was, with massive boulders suspended as if by magic from the ceiling and dazzling crystals dotting the walkway, a thorough search of the second cave netted the discovery of a black and white salamander and little else.

  Mara grimly admitted that prospects for locating the key in the crevices of ancient rock faded with each passing minute. Morning would bring dozens of sightseers and too many questions. If Bailey had secreted his key away in this hole in the ground, he’d done an excellent job. Too good.

  They were shooting blind, she thought bleakly, crawling to another pile of rubble and limestone. Light bounced off sparkles of calcite, ersatz diamonds. Fake jewels, a false map, an old man’s tattoo, and confessions scribbled onto a burlesque poster didn’t add up to much.

  For more than a week every choice she made seemed to lead to a similar result. The potential for discovery stymied by a spiteful fate. Darkly, she ticked off the items. She finds journal, stolen from a dead woman. She runs to the safety of her hometown and manages to be shot and cornered. And last, and certainly the most absurd, she escapes into the arms of the one man who had good reason to want her dead.

  A man who owned her heart and had given his to another.

  Mara blinked at the sting of tears, refusing to shed one. These were all her choices and her consequences. Crying would solve nothing, and they surely wouldn’t erase the intervening years when Ethan found his match.

  On the other side of the cave, Lesley and Ethan chattered amiably as they searched, but Mara caught only snatches of conversation. Despite the garbled words, she could hear the easy camaraderie, the casual intimacy she’d once known. That she longed to recapture. But he’d obviously moved on, and she couldn’t blame him for it. Lesley fit the grown-up Ethan much better than she ever could. Same brilliance, same ambitions.

  Smoky laughter trilled over the stillness of the cave, and Mara flinched. Against her better judgment, she checked their position. Her eyes stung again when she saw how Lesley leaned into Ethan, head on his shoulder. As she watched, his arm rose to anchor her while Lesley shook with mirth. The words they spoke were irrelevant, Mara realized. The picture was sufficient. Ethan beaming, Lesley giggling. They fit together, a perfect couple.

  Acceptance cut deep, the wound bloodless but complete. She’d lost him. A nameless, faceless opponent she could fight. Would battle endlessly for Ethan. But not a woman who made him happy. Who could understand him and love him and be what he needed. She could see the truth, no matter how badly she wanted to deny.

  One more gamble lost, but at least this would only cost her heart.

  Choosing San Marcos and the Wonder Cave was another gambit, with lethal odds. All the prep work, all the research, could come to naught, and she’d be left with another debt she couldn’t repay. One that could cost her life.

  For the first time, though, she wondered if it mattered.

  With a shiver, Mara continued to sift through centuries of debris that had chipped off the limestone and settled in the caverns. Layer upon layer of silt and sediment, nearly too deep to burrow through. Like the chamber floor, her chits were adding up, and it terrified her that she was perilously close to not caring.

  “Hey, Mara!” Ethan shouted her name and she lifted her head.

  She focused dulled eyes on his position, where Lesley knelt beside him, hand braced on his knee. Biting off a snarl, she mustered a short, “Yeah?”

  “Making any headway?”

  More like falling into the abyss, she thought caustically. Rhodes Scholar Barbie has me beat fair and square. Aloud, she replied, “No. You?” When he shook his head, she motioned with her flashlight to the benches that lined the end of the chamber. Sinking down on the hard slab, she rubbed at the healed bullet wound, the muscles strained by stretching and groping for a phantom key.

  Overhead, grayish rock glistened beneath the wet that seeped into every corner of the cavern. Lesley had described the rock as chert. To Mara’s eyes it resembled flint, but the doctor was the expert. When the two joined her, she let out a silent snort of frustration. Here she was, whining and mewling like a nebbish. A cardinal sin. Squaring her shoulders, she rounded on Ethan and Lesley, jaw set, heartache ignored.

  She’d lost the love of her life. She’d be damned if she was going to lose the gold.

  “Let’s regroup. We’ve been looking for over an hour and nothing yet. We’re missing something. Bailey expected to return here, and his clue was designed to help his partners locate the key if he didn’t survive the intervening years. Why give coordinates that don’t narrow the location?”

  Ethan set his foot on the bench, rested his hands on his knee. The same thought had occurred to him. “He mentioned a room filled with diamonds, a well, and a cathedral.”

  Chiming in, Lesley corrected, “Yes, but the rooms each have matching characteristics. In the first room, the stalactite and stalagmite formations create those columns, which also evoke the cathedral atmosphere. Remember, in 1937 he had no way of knowing what Mr. Bevers used the rooms for. And the room you searched is nicknamed the Crystal Room.”

  “But there are more crystals in the room we just searched.” Ethan hefted the backpack onto the bench. He drew out Bailey’s notes. “Doesn’t match up. There are two rooms filled with diamonds. Bailey doesn’t mention more than one.”

  “What about the well? Which room is it in?” Mara rubbed at the tiredness in her shoulders, fatigue warring with determination. “Or is there another room with higher ceilings?”

  Lesley recalled her previous visits to the caves and the lecture she’d heard from the tour guides. “The third room is sixty feet deep. If any room resembles a cathedral, the Dome Room does. And the fifth room has the wishing well.”

  “Fifth room?” A clue ghosted across Mara’s thoughts, and she filched the poster from Ethan. Trying to summon the idea that hovered just beyond reach, she studied the symbols. Her thoughts were jumbled, and she sifted through them, trying to focus. Bailey wouldn’t have been so clever, would he? Mara stood abruptly, hope spinning madly. “Fifth room. Five. As in delta.”

  “Delta,” Ethan repeated. A grin spread swiftly, and he gleefully cursed the cunning Bailey. “Damn it, you’re right. It’s a double entendre, Mara. Bailey used five to not only represent the coordinates, but if he told your grandfather anything, it could be another clue. Delta. Water. Well.”

  “Come on,” Mara demanded, moving for the passageway, poster still in hand. “It has to be in there!”

  Lesley caught up to her and shifted into the lead. “I’ll guide us to the chamber. The Dome Room is vented by a deep shaft to ease the relative humidity. Without the shaft, it would be almost one hundred percent. We’ll have to take another staircase to the bypass hallway. It’s pitch-black and you don’t know the terrain. I do.”

  Mara reluctantly dropped back. She thought about arguing, but to what end? Never one to ignore the obvious, she had to admit Lesley was the superior guide. “Fine. I’ll follow.”

  Hiking swiftly but carefully, Lesley toured them through the area she called the Coral Passage and into a room steeped in total darkness. Aptly named the Dark Room, their flashlights barely penetrated the murky deep. Light switches protruded from the walls, but she pointed out that if they turned the lights on, one of them would need to retrace their steps to shut the power.

  “Instead, I’d advise that we hold onto each other until we make it across.” Lesley paused, and Mara gingerly gripped a bunch of silken, expensive fabric.

  “Gotcha.”

  Behind Mara, Ethan curled his hand against her skin, knuckles grazing the small of her back. Tendrils of heat radiated along her spine, and she attempted vainly to ignore the echoing shocks in her belly.

  Unaware of her struggle, Ethan waged his own private war. The simplicity of touch held too much power, he realized. Mundane contact of skin to skin should be a nonevent, but instead it set off a cascade of reaction. Molten want pounded through
him, flares of recognition that called to him, blood to blood. Contact with Lesley elicited a pleasant desire, not a fiery urge to devour. To merge.

  They picked their way slowly across phosphorescent rock that glowed faintly in the black. His fingers slid against the sleek, smooth skin, softer than air. Half a lifetime stretched between them, and it only took a touch to erase the distance. Foolishly, he had imagined there could be another woman for him, another heart that he wanted to capture. But it was only Mara. Always her.

  Certainly settled into him like a revelation, and he tightened his hold. She would balk, he knew, if he told her. Would sneer at him, eyes biting and sarcastic. But he understood her better this time, and if he looked closely, he would see the fear swimming in the amber pools. If she wanted him.

  She had to want him.

  Anticipation rose, but he quelled it when his conscience pricked. A few paces ahead, Lesley moved sure-footedly across the uneven rocks, a player in a game he’d brought her into unwittingly.

  Though they’d made no promises to one another, both understood the reason for his invitation to Kiev. He needed her expertise, yes, but between them had been the promise of more. Of him finally putting the past aside and trying again. Because without Mara in his life, Ethan believed he could have loved Lesley.

  But Mara returned and everything changed.

  Whether he and Mara worked, Lesley deserved more than a man who could offer a corner of his heart, a pale version of love. Their friendship demanded that he be honest, and his code of honor required nothing less.

  Once they found the key, he’d tell her, Ethan promised himself. He climbed the stairs steadily, wondering how she would take the news. Lesley wasn’t given to tantrums or dramatic outbursts. The few times he’d seen her livid, she’d sliced a man off with cool tones and brutal wit.

  It had been painful to watch.

  Ahead of him, Mara stumbled and his hand slid around her waist to steady her. The satin skin warmed beneath his splayed fingers. His grip tightened. “You okay?”

  Breathless, she murmured, “I’m fine.” She slipped her hand up to cover his beneath her T-shirt, pressing him closer. “Thanks.”

  Lesley noticed that Mara no longer held her and she paused on a step. Turning, she called, “You guys all right back there?”

  Voice rough, Ethan replied, “We’re okay. Mara tripped, but she’s stable. Here we come.”

  With deliberate strokes Ethan slid his fingers across her waist to retake the wide band of fabric. Leaning close, he urged, “I’m ready, Mara. Whenever you are.”

  Mara didn’t respond. Instead, she fell into shaky step behind Lesley, trying ever harder to ignore the slide of tantalizing fingers as they traveled deeper into the cavern’s hold.

  Eventually, Lesley led them to a corridor that declined in steep descent. They released one another to take firm hold of the handrails. Down they traveled, farther into the heart of the caves. At the bottom of the stairs Lesley levered the door open and introduced them to the Well Room.

  “This room is more than 150 feet below the surface. In fact, it’s the reason Bevers discovered the cave.” Showing them inside, she explained, “He was drilling and the drill bit fell. He and his wife searched for it and found these caverns instead. Later they built a well here. Below us there is an underground aquifer-fed lake that extends west to another cave. Ezell’s Cave is the only surface entrance to the cave that contains the lake, but it’s protected by guards due to the endangered Texas blind salamander. Of course, when Bailey was here, no one knew or cared about the salamander.”

  “Would the well have been here when Bailey was?” asked Ethan, turning to survey the cavern walls. To his right a high, broad rock face of limestone contained holes, cracks, and fissures—each of which may have been Bailey’s hiding place.

  Bailey would have tried to keep the key out of sight for five years. To Ethan’s mind, tucking it into one of these breaks in the stone would have seemed a safe bet. Next to him, Mara followed the same train of thought.

  Meeting her shuttered look, he could see her reaching the conclusion he had—that the key may have slipped into the ancient limestone and be beyond their reach. Compelled to soothe, he closed a firm hand over hers, feeling the fine tremble that skated along cool skin. “We’ll find it, honey. I promise.”

  Lesley heard the hushed reassurance and inwardly winced. Resignedly, she let the last vestiges of hope slide away. Ethan had never looked at her with the same eyes, she realized, and he never would. With longing and devotion and need.

  She may have been able to coax the first two, but the last couldn’t be prompted. Clearing her suddenly choked throat, she began to lecture, an instinctive shield. “Bevers designed the well in the early 1920s, I believe. It would have been here. Regardless, this room has the best hope of being what we’re looking for.” Checking her watch, Lesley saw that seven A.M. was only minutes away. Thank heavens. She didn’t think she could watch them not watching each other for another second. “I need to go back up and talk Yvette into giving us more time. Work fast, in case her replacement isn’t so nice.”

  “Be careful,” Ethan cautioned as Lesley headed toward the stairs. He tried to touch her shoulder, but she edged out of reach. Ethan let his hand drop but said nothing. Grateful, Lesley disappeared into the black.

  Slowly, Ethan turned to Mara. “Why don’t you take this section, and I’ll work over there?”

  “Good.” Eyes intense, nerves taut, Mara focused on a formation of coral that again resembled diamonds. Flashing her light over the crystals, she noticed a dark pock where the beam failed to penetrate. She crouched low to examine the crystalline rocks. She shifted through mounds, anticipation singing in her veins. It was close, close enough to touch.

  A pile of stones like the chert Lesley had shown her earlier caught her attention. Chert that had hung from the ceiling and walls of the other rooms and was present nowhere else in this room. Using hands steady as stone, she dug through the flint until her fingers felt cave rock. She shone her beam on the cleared area, and illumined a slight break in the stones. A break that curved up and around the stone.

  Pulse thudding, breathing short, Mara demanded herself to calm down. Quickly, she grabbed a piece of the discarded flint and jammed the hard, unbreakable stone into the crevice. With effort, she leaned into the makeshift crowbar and moved it around the wedged stone. When the stone popped loose, she teetered slightly but regained her balance. Whispering a prayer, she stuck her hand, unprotected, into the narrow opening. And closed her fingers around a leather pouch.

  “Ethan?” The clarion call emerged on a thread of sound and she cleared her throat. “Ethan!”

  He lifted his head, and seeing her position, rushed to join her. Skidding to a stop, he knelt by her side. “Did you find something?”

  “I believe so.” She held up the pouch, its deep brown mottled by the elements but intact. “We found it, Ethan.” Silently, she offered him the damp leather.

  “Together.”

  Ethan held the pouch as Mara fumbled with the tightly knotted strings and worked them free. Then she tipped over the lip and a palm-sized brass key tumbled to the cavern floor, the sound echoing through the space. Her heart stopped, redoubled its frenetic beat.

  Decades of stories, a lifetime of dreams, gleamed in a bright key. She lifted the key, clutching the cool metal fiercely. “It has more Greek. Omicron and sigma. I don’t know what the letters mean, but we have definitely found Bailey’s key. One more.”

  With a victorious whoop, she launched herself at Ethan and the two rolled along the cavern floor, laughing. Ethan stood, scooped her up into his arms. Whirling her giddily, he exclaimed, “I didn’t believe. Even when your grandmother told us the story, I didn’t believe.” He slowed, pulled her close, searching her face in the shadows. His arms banded around her waist, holding her steady. “You did.”

  Suspended between present and past, between victory and the unknown, she framed his face gently. “B
elieving isn’t enough.” Skimming keen fingertips along the familiar planes of his face, she stroked the arch of brow, the hollow near his poet’s mouth. Though she spoke the words, both knew she meant more than the lost treasure. “Believing isn’t nearly enough.”

  “What else is there?” He breathed the question into her flesh, nuzzling at the fragrant spot where throat and collar met.

  “Knowing.”

  He held her closer, until her body molded to his, fit into every empty space. “And what if you can’t know? What if there are too many questions? Too much hidden from you?” Gently, he drifted a kiss across a mouth that trembled softly. “Do you try anyway?”

  The shudder caught her, swept through her. Her lips parted and returned the inquisitive touch. Like lightning, her tongue traced the long, firm lines, tasted and reveled. “You could. But it’s a gamble. And you don’t enjoy risk, Ethan. That’s all I’ve got. That’s what I am.”

  “Maybe I’m ready for risk. Maybe I need it.” For a third time their lips met, but Ethan cupped her head firmly. In slow, terrible forays, he seduced her mouth into opening, into baring its secrets. Sweeping inside, he challenged her slick, restive tongue to duel, to tangle.

  When she joined, he sighed his delight and feasted. Cool, then hot, desire drove him to dare. Need coiled inside, straining against reason. Too long he had weighed odds, planned each moment down to the minutest measure. His return to Kiev was a new beginning, a plunge into danger. Nothing frightened him, threatened his peace of mind as much as the woman in his arms. Beneath his questing mouth.

  Driven, he caught her hips, his mouth a mimicry of their dance. In. Out. In. Out. Undulating faster, diving deeper, he wrung breathless moans that spurred him to more. Deeper. Hotter. Faster. Every breath was Mara. Every taste, her. Even in the darkness the closeness, the scent and feel and taste, surrounded him. Consumed him. Turning, he fell back against the cavern wall and anchored her to him.

  Mara felt the slick serration of rock beneath her palm, but the jagged edges barely penetrated the haze that caught her, held her in thrall. Inside her, around her, there was only Ethan. Only now. Past sins were forgiven. Future transgressions absolved. In this moment she could be true. Could stay and be loved.