Guarding the Treasure

by J. K. Zimmer

  He smirked wickedly as he caressed her cheek.

  Professor Smith motioned for the man who had watched her bathe. “Stay with her today. Take her around the estate, see if you can get her to laugh a little and loosen up before you help her to dress for the evening,” he said, making eye contact only with the young man.

  The man took her hand, helping her to her feet.

  “Oh, and Ms. Hanes, I think you would do well to do as I say. Read up on the events that may await you.” His smile morphed into a hideous laugh.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kevin

  “There’s nothing else to talk to these people about, Gates. We’ve searched the house and grounds for evidence. We need to go,” Taylor said, turning to thank the owners of Goregoo castle for their cooperation.

  “The wall, Taylor,” Gates said, slamming the car door. “There was nothing on that rock wall.” Kevin thought again about what Theresa had said, they’d find her near a wall.

  Taylor pulled the car onto the blacktop and headed back to Dool.

  “What are you doing? We need to keep going north, start searching other areas for her.”

  “Where Gates? We’ve hit a dead end.” He glanced over at his partner. “The most important thing we need is some sleep. Neither of us is thinking clearly right now. Let’s get a couple of hours, and then we can map out the area north before we start searching again.”

  Kevin grew quiet as he watched the road pass by. He felt powerless, impotent. He rubbed his eyes. “You think you’re so smart,” she’d say when he figured out crossword puzzles before her. And then the night they’d sat and looked at the moon through his telescope. He’d told her about its different phases and how the moon created moods in people that caused them to do uncontrollable things. His heart ached as thoughts of her rolled around in his mind. He remembered how she’d looked at him as he kissed her fingers and told her stories about what the lines in her hand meant. She listened to him and believed every word he said. Kevin continued to indulge his mind in the memory of that evening. How he’d kissed her with complete freedom, no reservations. He’d enjoyed liberties with her that she had put the brakes on for the past three months or longer. Sophie, I lied to you, he thought. Not about the moon and the moods, but about the lines in your hand. I don’t know a thing about that. Nothing at all, babe. He rehearsed it in his head as they drove. He needed to tell her that when they found her.

  “Gates,” Taylor said, slowing the vehicle. Gates was a million miles away. Taylor knew he’d be of little use if he couldn’t focus on what was at hand. “I know this is hard for you, man, but you’ve got to stay with me. From now on, I’m taking the lead. My head’s a little clearer.”

  Kevin sat, staring out the window. “We’ve got to find her, Taylor. She’s in trouble.”

  Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed as he gave his partner a concerned look. “Let’s catch a couple hours sleep, and then we’ll discuss our next move.”

  Six o’clock seemed to be the magic hour for both men. They couldn’t sleep, and they went to Folks Pub to pore over maps of the northern sections of Dool again.

  “I remember some of these areas from three years ago, Taylor. As I recall, all the prime areas were dead ends.” He shook his head. “I don’t see anything new here.”

  “Are you sure you’re not missing something, Gates? Things can change, you know.”

  Kevin’s eyes moved to the map once more. “The landmarks and roads are the same as when Gipson and I searched. I think I’ve covered all the bases,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’ve talked with a few people who know the northern region like the back of their hands, and they say things are pretty much the same. We just don’t have any leads,” he said, frustrated as he leaned back in his chair.

  Taylor’s fingers tapped a continual beat on the table. “Hey, your friend Theresa said the diary was like a map, right?”

  Kevin looked up at him. “Yes, but—”

  “Did you bring your copy with you?” Kevin reached into his bag for the diary. “She also said it was full of plays on words, remember?” Taylor took the folder. “Where’d you stop reading?”

  “Theresa said page ninety-nine talked about the wall. That’s as far as I got,” he said, watching Taylor flip through the pages.

  “From what I can tell, it looks like we’ve gone over this section. Let me look ahead,” he said. “Anya is talking about her trip to France and how she is to stay with the Frenchman, Mr. Dubois. Listen to this:

  “Diary, my brother has been pressured by his associate to send me to France. I cannot live through any more of this. I have no one at my side to counsel me or to give me direction. My friend, Olivia— my friend on the good road as Three had called her—is far from me. If this is the last of my life, then I shall be happy for it, for I have been deserted by all that I have cared about—my father, Olivia, even Three has been silent since I left the castle. I fear this man more than I have feared my own brother and almost wish death upon myself.”

  Taylor looked at Gates. “She’s been moved.”

  “Anya’s been moved. So? The last clue from the diary was wrong. It’s not a reliable source.”

  Taylor ignored him. “Don’t you see? If this is a roadmap, then we need to assume that everything that happened to Anya is going to happen to Sophie.”

  Kevin sat, staring at the folder. “France? Do you really think she’s been taken to France?”

  Taylor continued to read. “No, not France, but just to be on the safe side, I think we need to do some checking on that. Why don’t you get on the phone with A. J. and get that process started? I’ll keep reading.”

  Kevin informed A. J. of their suspicions. “They’re going to check all the points of departure from the country,” Kevin said, sitting down at the table. “If they come up with anything, they’ll give us a call.

  “Good,” Taylor said, looking at the next entry. “She’s arrived at Mr. Dubois’ Castle.”

  “Another castle, does she describe it?”

  “No, not in this entry. It sounds like she’s been hurt, but she doesn’t describe how or why. And now the Spirit she’s been talking with has returned to her.” He read from the diary.

  “Anya, did you think that I had not journeyed with you? Did you not know that we are sojourners? Must I continually remind you that I will never leave you?”

  “Three, I did think you left me, allowing me to suffer at the hands of a horrible man, but now I see even in my pain that you had not left me alone.”

  “You questioned your friend on the good path. She is far from you, but will guide others to you. I have put strong men in place to rescue you in your greatest time of need.”

  “Three, I have been living in need, why have you not sent them before?”

  “There is a time for everything under the sun, dear Anya. I know of the time, and you do not. You must be patient with me and allow things to progress in the interest of all.”

  “Do my ears hear that I am to suffer for others still in the interest of all?”

  “Your life is not your own. It is a story of renewed hope for others who may suffer at the hands of those as you have.”

  “How can I understand all your ways, Three? I cannot, so I will lay my head down to sleep for now as I wait for this pain to leave my body. Three, I must believe that you will continue to watch over me, or I may die.”

  “That’s the end of the entry. This is one trusting woman,” Taylor said, stretching his arms behind his head.

  Kevin leaned on the table. “Let me get this straight. From what you just read, we need to assume that Sophie’s been incapacitated and is in a place where she’s safe and can rest?”

  “We don’t know that for sure, how about we assume the worst. Then we won’t be surprised if something out of the ordinary happens. You know as well as I do that in our business, things are usually worse than we think.”

  Kevin pulled his phone from his jacket. “I’m calling Theresa.” He
slid his finger across the screen. “You know what I think, Taylor? If we’re going to believe that the diary is a map, then I think Theresa’s our Olivia,” he said, putting the phone to his ear. “Maybe now that she’s had some sleep, she’ll have some answers for us.”

  “Gates?” Theresa answered.

  “Yeah, Theresa, and before you say anything—yes, I know what time it is. I’ve been through that drill with Sophie. Taylor and I have been reading the diary, trying to stumble on some answers. Are you awake enough to help us out?”

  “I think so,” she said groggily. “Give me a minute to get to my computer,” she said, holding the line. “Okay, so tell me what you found at the wall.”

  “Nothing, she’s not at Goregoo, Theresa. The wall was a dead end.”

  “Is Taylor with you?”

  “Yeah, he’s right here.”

  “Put me on speaker. Gates, I want both of you to hear me. I’m only going to say this once, so listen up. As I told you earlier, there’s a lot to this diary. I’m assuming you read that Anya was sent to France, correct?”

  “Yeah, that’s where we are right now. How did you know?” Kevin asked.

  “I don’t know how, I just do. I also know that you suspect Sophie’s been taken out of the country. You’re incorrect. Ms. Hanes is still in Ireland.”

  Taylor nodded his head in agreement as he met Kevin’s fixed eyes.

  “Do you have your diary open?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. I want you to read the next entry.”

  “Anya is describing the castle of Mr. Dubois,” Taylor said. “It sounds similar to Goregoo, but we’ve already—”

  She cut him off. “You’re not reading between the lines, gentlemen. Could there be another castle in the area?”

  Gates and Taylor glanced at one another. “There are some,” Taylor said, “but the few that remain are either privately owned or have been turned into tourist sites.”

  “Besides Theresa, we searched several castles three years ago on that cold case and they all proved to be dead ends,” Gates said.

  “She’s in a castle, guys. You’ve got to look again, but this time look for something with a French flair to it. It may sound French, or just have that look about it. Maybe it’s not visible from the outside, maybe it’s in the décor or something. I’m not sure. Another thing I found interesting in this section of the diary was how Anya talked about the servants. They were sensual, seductive, and perfectly intimate in the way they attended to her.”

  “Yeah, she says she’s treated like a princess, waited on hand and foot, but she also says there was something amiss,” Taylor said, reading from the diary as he spoke.

  “Yes, I believe Anya’s words are twofold. The way she’s cared for was definitely fit for a princess. And where do you find a princess? In a castle. Then look at the next line. She talked about the staff, perhaps a little too friendly? My guess is she’s paralleling them with the Frenchman Mr. Dubois whose affections weren’t desirable either. I also believe the feeling she refers to is a lack of trust. That undoubtedly is in the man and situation she finds herself in. I think this is a direct clue to Sophie.”

  Kevin pushed away from the table and stood. “All right, I can see that, but we’re still in the dark about where she is, Theresa, and until we can get to her there’s no way to ensure her safety.”

  The connection was quiet for a moment. “Gates, the only advice I can give you is to search the castles in the area again. I believe you’ll find Sophie there and, from what I’ve read in the diary, the other women as well.”

  “Is that what Three meant when he said ‘for the good of others’?” Taylor asked, marking the words with his finger.

  “That’s right. If you find Sophie, you’ll find the other women, too. I’m almost sure of it.”

  Kevin picked the map up from the table, “Any other advice, Theresa?”

  “Read the diary. If what has happened to Anya is a foreshadowing of what Ms. Hanes will face, then you’d better be ready for anything.”

  The two looked at the phone, waiting.

  Theresa continued, “Things will not be pretty gentlemen, but they seldom are when you’re dealing with a psychopath and a highly trained agent who has defected.”

  Gates and Taylor knew she was right. A highly intelligent and skilled mind working with one that desired power and revenge spelled the worst case scenario.

  “Are you ready to start tearing the countryside apart?” Kevin asked his partner, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

  “Yeah,” Taylor said, not looking up but continuing to read the diary. “This is what Theresa was talking about.”

  Kevin sat across the table, spreading the map out in front of him once more. “Shoot, I’m all ears.”

  Kevin read:

  “My day was pleasant, not at all as I had expected. I was shown around the grounds of Mr. Dubois. I see many trees that blend in with the deep, dark, forbidden forest. I also find myself attended by beautiful people. That seems odd to me. I am taken back by the behavior of some who are evil to the point of cruelty, and then those who are kind but silent. What is before me? I still feel ill at ease, like this too is a trap.”

  “Your mind is becoming wise, Anya. You are not allowing your eyes to trick you into believing all is well, for it is not. There will always be wolves in sheep’s clothing. Those who know of them will not be deceived by their loveliness. Be assured I have prepared friends on the path for the work they must do.”

  “But how could you have prepared them, Three? They do not know me or where I am.”

  “They have had guides, such as Olivia has been to you. She is a true follower and has received power to do my work. Your rescue will be at hand, but continue to watch, for evil seeks to destroy you and all that you stand for. You are your father’s child.”

  “My father. I have not heard you speak of him. How do you know of him?”

  “Oh Anya, I know all things. Have you forgotten who I am?”

  “No, I have not forgotten. You are Three. I will be aware.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sophie

  “Ms. Hanes, this would be a nice place to sit and start reading your diary,” the young man said, indicating a lounge chair under a great oak. It was positioned out of sight from the castle yet still nestled on the estate.

  Sophie took a minute to look closely at the man’s features. He was beautiful by any worldly standard. The more she thought about it, everyone working on the estate had the same look. They were all above average in appearance and social graces.

  “Why is everyone I see young and beautiful?” Sophie asked.

  The man smiled but said nothing for some time. “We are paid to please,” he said, smiling, as he leaned on his knee and looked deep into her eyes.

  Sophie felt something as he gazed upon her, or maybe it was just her own nervousness. “Please? What do you do to please?”

  “Maybe I will be chosen to show you tonight,” he said, touching her foot with his fingertips.

  She quickly pulled it away, moving her eyes to a page she had opened to in the diary. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone for a while,” she said, not looking up.

  He walked a short distance from her and sat, still facing her.

  Sophie continued to read, the uneasiness she felt draped her like a heavy shawl.

  “I find my greatest comfort in talking to you, diary. I saw Mr. Dubois but briefly today. He was like my brother, cold and uncaring of my feelings. He assured me that tonight would be most pleasurable. I fear that one of these times, the pleasure they enjoy will kill me. It is dreadful what they ask of me, and they care not of the pain. They do not care that it is not pleasure I seek. I seek to go far from this place, to go home to my own country. But not to the home I once loved. No, I long to be free from my brother’s control, to be free of the dreadfulness that my life has become since the death of Mother and the departure of Father.”

  Sophie looked down as th
e professor paced around her like a cat stalking its prey.

  “You are more beautiful than any other woman I’ve seen at the Regal, Ms. Hanes,” he said.

  Sophie stood, hardly breathing in the tight, red-sequined, mini dress. She looked down at the plunging neckline. “I look more like an overpriced prostitute,” she said under her breath. She remembered Anya’s words. She had been used as a prostitute by her brother and Mr. Dubois. She had read just enough to prepare herself for what the evening would hold. “Help me, Three,” she whispered as she was taken to a dimly lit dining area. She saw a man she knew from somewhere. When he came into the light, she realized who it was. Mr. Gipson.

  “Wow, Ms. Hanes,” he said, standing to take her hand.” When I saw you briefly the other day, I knew you were something special. Now I know why Gates wanted to keep you for himself.”

  Sophie’s eyes flashed, and her mouth gaped. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. “What did you just say?”

  “Sit,” Gipson said, dismissing the professor with a sly smile and ignoring Sophie’s direct question.

  Sophie slowly sat, closely watching her unwelcome companion.

  “By the look on your face, Ms. Hanes, something tells me that Kevin didn’t mention to you that we were old working buddies,” he said, enjoying the disquiet he was reading in her face.

  Sophie turned away, not wanting to think that Kevin had been associated with someone like Gipson. “Mr. Gates never mentioned you, sir,” she said quietly, eyes now focused on the tile floor.

  He reached across the table, firmly cupping her chin in his hand and raising her head so their eyes would meet. “That’s funny,” he said with a smile. “Kevin called me shortly before you arrived in Ireland and asked me to entertain you and show you a good time during your stay.”