She slanted him a considering glance as she tugged on her socks and boots, wondering whether he felt any unaccustomed aches…and what he thought about them if he did. Now that her mind was semifunctional again, she also registered the fact that he hadn’t touched her this morning or made any reference to their explosive, exhausting lovemaking last night. Neither had she, of course, but still….
Maybe he wasn’t a morning person either, she thought, tugging at her bootlaces. Maybe he just needed a little encouragement. Next time, she would agree to beans for breakfast, let him serve her in bed, and see what happened.
If there was a next time.
Jake’s gruff assertion that last night was their special time floated through her mind. Frowning, she flicked him another glance. His words had snared her attention at the time. This morning, they started a queer little sensation curling in her chest.
Rachel returned to the campsite some twenty minutes later. The cold water, soap, and wet wipes had worked minor miracles. She felt close to human again, and confident enough to make the first move.
Dropping her few toiletries in the ATV carrier, she crossed to the other vehicle. Jake leaned against its seat, his long legs crossed at the ankle, his eyes on the slopes above and behind them.
“Sorry I’m such a slow starter.”
When he didn’t respond, the smile she’d sent his way slipped a notch.
“Jake?”
“Sorry. What did you say?”
“I said I was sorry you had to pack everything up. I usually pull my share of the load.”
“No problem.” He aimed another glance at the slopes. “Are you ready to roll?”
Rachel drew in a sharp breath. She wasn’t looking for morning-after assurances or pledges of undying devotion, but a friendly smile or two didn’t seem too much to hope for.
“No,” she answered slowly. “I’m not ready to roll. What’s going on here?”
His gaze cut back to her. “What do you mean?”
His closed, wary expression hurt. More than Rachel had thought possible. The Jake she’d wrestled with in the sleeping bag yesterday afternoon was gone.
“Why are you so…?” She waved a hand in small circles. “So distracted?”
“I thought I saw something moving up in those rocks. It was probably a mountain sheep, or maybe a cougar. They like to hunt early in the mornings.”
The idea of a mountain lion prowling around in the immediate vicinity was daunting enough without Jake taking her elbow to steer her toward her vehicle and suggesting briskly that she mount up.
Rachel dug in her heels. “Hold on a moment. Is that all that’s bothering you this morning? Are you sure it’s not us? Or more specifically, what happened between us last night? Do you want to talk about it?”
“Does it need talking about?”
“Yes. No. Not really.”
Exasperated at her less than articulate response, Rachel raked her fingers through her hair.
“It’s just that a woman generally expects more than a cup of coffee and an order to mount up and move out in the morning. At least, this woman does.”
He managed to look wounded and amused at the same time. “And here I thought I was being such a gentleman for not forcing my attentions on someone who pointedly informed me she isn’t at her best in the mornings.”
“Yes, well, I just needed a little time to get my motor revved.”
“Is it going now?”
“The throttle’s wide open.”
“Good.”
Planting his hands on her waist, he swept her forward. The kiss he laid on her lips wasn’t the least friendly or gentle or good morning-ish. It was as fierce as the sun, as hard and rough as the mountains.
“Now that,” Rachel told him when she came up for air, “was worth waking up for.”
So was the grin he aimed her way as he hustled her toward her vehicle. “Let’s get this show on the road. Not that I expect to find anything at this abandoned mine of yours, you understand. But the sooner we check it out, the sooner we can get you back down to civilization.”
“Just me? What about you, Jake?”
“I was thinking I might head back up to check on your friend Taggart, but…”
“But?” she prompted, curious about what was going on his head concerning Russ’s investigation. Whatever it was, he kept it to himself.
“But after last night,” he said, diverting her with a wolfish grin, “I’m developing a yen to see what it would feel like to share a real mattress with you.”
“A yen?”
“Okay, a craving.”
More than satisfied with his admission, Rachel climbed onto her four-wheeler. With a last look over his shoulder at the rocks behind them, Jake did the same.
The road leading to the mine had fallen into total disrepair. They had to skirt tumbled boulders and potholes the size of lunar craters but reached the abandoned site a little over an hour later.
Chewing on her lower lip, Rachel slowed her vehicle to a stop and killed the engine. When she surveyed the tumbled-down buildings and boarded-up entrance to the mine, ramshackle was the word that came immediately to mind. Dangerous followed closely on its heels.
With a background in materials science, Rachel had a good idea what to expect inside. There was no easy way to extract copper from the earth, although it had been mined almost since the dawn of time.
Functional as well as beautiful, the mineral served a host of purposes. Ancient Egyptians had discovered its ductility and used copper to line pipes carrying water from the Nile. Because of its resistance to corrosion, Greek and Roman architects had sheathed their roofs and columns in copper sheeting. In modern times, the mineral’s electrical conductivity generated huge demands. Millions of tons of copper went into electrical wires and circuit boards each year.
Most of the copper mined today in the U.S. came from Arizona. Low-grade ore was dug out of open pits. Higher grade sulfides, like the nuggets Rachel had found embedded in Grizzly’s boot, had to be mined by means of a shaft sunk deep in the earth’s surface or by tunneling into the side of a mountain.
This was one of those horizontal tunnels, referred to in mining parlance as an adit. From the main passageway, the miners would have dug numerous side tunnels. There were probably dozens of those suckers, Rachel thought with a sinking feeling. The idea of spending several hours poking around in small, dark passageways was losing more of its appeal with each passing moment.
It lost even more when Jake unlatched the plastic scabbard attached to his ATV and extracted his rifle. Calmly, he checked the chamber and reset the safety, then slung the weapon over one shoulder.
“Just a little insurance,” he said, catching her look.
Shad’s assertion that mountain cats, bears and skunks inhabited most of the caves and hidey-holes in these mountains came rushing back. Rachel sincerely hoped Grizzly’s pet or one of his relatives hadn’t taken up residence in the abandoned mine.
“These mines usually have several airshafts, as well as second or third entrances. No telling what kind of creatures we might meet on the way in.”
“Oh, that’s comforting.”
“Or on the way out,” he murmured, slipping a box of bullets into his vest pocket.
Before Rachel could ask him just what specific creatures he had in mind, he went to work on the rotting boards blocking the entrance. Their rusted nails gave with only a small shriek or two of protest. Jake pried loose three boards and set them to one side.
“Hope the batteries in this flashlight are still good,” he muttered.
He worked the button, and light stabbed the darkness inside the tunnel. Bending, he stepped over the remaining boards and disappeared.
Well, they’d come this far, Rachel thought as she crawled through the opening after him. They might as well see what they could find inside.
The first thing that hit her was the cold. The second was the stink. The dank air carried a dozen different smells, none of them ple
asant. Iron tracks and old equipment lay corroding in the darkness. The beams supporting the tunnel roof gave off the decaying odor of wood rot. Piles of animal droppings added their own stench. Some, she noted with a gulp, appeared relatively fresh. Careful where she set her feet, she followed the stabbing beam of Jake’s flashlight into the darkness.
Rachel could never decide afterward who was more surprised when they stumbled on the money, she or Jake.
He was in the lead, probing the darkness with his flashlight as they explored one of the side tunnels. They’d gone about twenty or thirty yards in when the beam skipped right over the neatly stacked bricks. With a startled oath, Jake brought it stabbing back.
“Well, I’ll be damned!”
The long empty tunnel amplified his exclamation and sent it booming down the passageway. Almost dancing with excitement, Rachel added to the reverberating echoes.
“I don’t believe it! We found it, Jake! We actually found the missing shipment!”
“That’s what it looks like.”
Brushing past him, she dropped to her knees to examine the banding on the bricks. Each was stamped with the seal of the U.S. Bureau of Engraving and Printing. It took only a glance at the serial number on the top bills to identify them as from the missing shipment.
“Taggart’s going to stroke out!” she declared. “He’s become obsessed with wrapping this case up.”
“I noticed.”
Still on a high, she ignored the dry response. “We’ve got to get word to him. The walkie-talkies in the ATV don’t have enough range. We’ll have to head back to the line shack, or find the nearest phone.”
“My guess is he’ll find us soon enough.”
The drawled comment brought her head up with a snap. “Find us?”
“He’s following us.”
“Russ?”
“Russ. I wasn’t sure this morning, when I spotted that movement in the rocks. I’d asked Buck Silverthorne to keep an eye on him, for one thing. For another, I couldn’t understand how he knew where we were heading. I figured it out during the ride up to the mine.”
She couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, but the coolness that seeped into his voice started a prick-ling at the back of her neck.
“Suppose you tell me just what you figured out.”
“One of us must have tipped him off.”
She went still. Utterly still. Ice crystals formed in her veins.
“That one being…?”
His shrug cut into her heart like the hunting knife he’d used to clean the trout last night. Jake still thought she was setting him up.
Furious denials rose in her chest. Anger piled swift and high on top of her hurt. Clamping her lips together, Rachel refused to let either spill out. She’d groveled as much as she intended to, and the realization that Jake didn’t trust her after what they’d shared last night hurt so badly she could hardly speak.
“You think…?” She swallowed the lump that had lodged in her throat. “You think I told Russ about the mine?”
“Maybe not in so many words, but…”
She couldn’t hold her pain back. It was too sharp, and her anger too hot.
“Go to hell.”
“What?”
“Go to straight to hell, Henderson. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars on the way. And do not speak to me again, ever!”
In a more rational moment, Rachel would have recognized that last bit for the childishness it was. She wasn’t feeling anything close to rational at the moment, however. As furious with herself for hurting so much as she was with him, she whirled and stomped toward the main passageway.
Cursing, Jake started after her. He’d bungled that, and badly. He hadn’t intended his suppositions as accusations. He could only lay his clumsiness on the shock of actually finding the damned money and the unease that had nagged him since he’d spotted that movement up in the rocks.
He caught up with her in the main tunnel and snagged her arm. “Rachel, listen to me. I don’t think you tipped Taggart off intentionally. Maybe it was something in your face when you pulled me aside yesterday morning, or something you let drop when you were working in the cabin.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” she said scathingly. “You just think I’m stupid. For a moment there, I had the impression you thought Russ and I had planned this, and that I let you crawl into my sleeping bag just to get you to lead us to the mine.”
“Dammit! How could you jump to a conclusion like that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you jumped to the conclusion that I clued Taggart in, intentionally or otherwise. Just out of curiosity, why the hell didn’t you tell me he followed us?”
“I wasn’t sure at first and didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily.”
“You didn’t want to worry me?” Her voice shot up a full octave. “You didn’t want to worry me!”
“All right, maybe that was a mistake.”
“No kidding! Listen to me, Henderson.” Yanking her arm free, she stabbed a forefinger into his chest to emphasize her points. “One, I don’t need protecting. I admit I liked the dinner in bed bit, but when it comes right down to it, I can get my own damned dinner. Two, I didn’t tip Taggart off. Three, if he is following us, we tell him about the money, I go back to D.C., you go back to being a jerk, and this whole mess is over with.”
“I’m afraid it’s not quite over, Rache.”
The voice came out of the darkness behind them. With another savage oath, Jake spun around. When a streak of red light lasered through the tunnel and centered on Rachel’s right breast, the suspicions that had nagged at him for the past few days coalesced into dead certainty.
Chapter 13
Stunned, Rachel searched the murky darkness for the man behind the weapon aimed at her heart.
“Russ?”
He stepped into the flashlight’s beam. He held his automatic two-fisted and chest high. “Yeah, it’s me.”
“What in hell are you doing?”
“Closing this investigation, just like you said. No, Henderson, don’t move! I can pump a bullet into both you and Rachel a whole lot faster than you can get your weapon off your shoulder. In fact, I think you should lay it down, nice and slow.”
The flashlight’s beam jerked, as if Jake’s fist had tightened around the shaft. Taggart’s chuckle drifted down the dank, fetid passageway.
“You can kill your light if you want to, Henderson, but I suspect you realize this infrared targeting scope illuminates both of you like a spotlight. Put the rifle down. Now.”
Slowly, Jake bent and deposited his rifle. It hit bedrock with a small thunk.
Still targeted with a small red dot, Rachel burst out, “You’re reading this all wrong, Russ! We didn’t come looking for your precious millions with the intention of ripping them off.”
“I think he knows that.”
Jake’s drawl drew another chuckle from Taggart. “Figured it out, have you, Henderson?”
“Figured what out?” Rachel demanded for the second time in a totally confusing ten minutes.
“Your friend’s not after the money,” Jake said softly. “Not anymore, anyway. Now, his main concern is making sure it doesn’t track back to him.”
“To him?”
Her jaw sagging in disbelief, Rachel swung her gaze from the man illuminated in the flashlight’s beam to the one standing taut and tense beside her.
“That’s crazy! Russ has been on this case like a bulldog on a T-bone since the day he was appointed to the accident investigation task force.”
“My guess is that he was working the accident well before he was appointed…or arranged to be appointed to the task force. How long did it take you to set up the drop, Taggart? Six months? A year?”
“Almost three years, actually. The toughest part was accessing the codes that locked the transport containers in place aboard the aircraft. The Bureau of Engraving and Printing doesn’t particularly like to share that information. Once I knew
how to get at the codes, I had to find someone willing to blow the cargo hatch in midflight and eject the container.”
Rachel couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She hadn’t always agreed with Taggart during their months on the task force, had fought him tooth and nail on several key issues, but the idea he’d engineered the accident they’d both spent so many months investigating sickened her.
“Why?” Still struggling to understand, she demanded an explanation. “Why in God’s name would you send four men to their deaths?”
“The crash wasn’t part of the plan,” he snapped, losing some of his cool composure. “DC-10’s have sprung cargo hatches before and made safe landings. I’m not responsible for the damned blizzard.”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Why, Russ?”
“You’re a civil servant,” he sneered. “Just like me. You know how much we make. Forty million was too tempting to resist. So was the challenge of grabbing it right out from under the nose of the Secret Service.”
Rachel couldn’t care less about the long-standing rivalries between the Secret Service, a division of the U.S. Department of Treasury, and the other law enforcement communities.
“We’ve alerted every bank in the country to watch for these bills,” she reminded the FBI agent grimly. “You can’t spend them.”
“Now I can’t. But eight or ten years from now…”
Fury surged into her as she finally understood his intent. “Oh, I get it. You intended to sit on the money until the statute of limitations ran out, then launder it through an off-shore bank.”
“That was the plan.”
Cold and icy calm, Jake’s voice floated to her through the darkness. “The plan went down the tubes when bills started popping up around Flagstaff, didn’t it, Taggart? It was only a matter of time until the bills and container were found.”
Rachel’s breath hissed out. “The container! We speculated it was fitted with some kind of signaling or tracking device so it could be found after it hit the ground.”
Twice in a Lifetime Page 13