He resumed pacing the room, seeking solutions with each stride.
He was a professional. A gun for hire. What the hell was he doing abducting someone and holding them for ransom? Was he that desperate? A whimsical fancy had him running away overseas, but there would be no place on earth to hide if he did that. The people who hired him were scarier sons of bitches than he was. And they didn’t tolerate failure.
He looked toward the entrance when there was a knock on the door. He hunched down in front of the woman and whispered, “Keep quiet or you and your boyfriend will both eat bullets.”
A tear fell down her cheek. If she was seeking someone with a conscience, she was looking at the wrong guy.
He punched the wall behind her, barely missing her face.
Shit! He never should have gotten involved with this contract. Murder was easy. It was in, pop, out. Job complete.
But this mission was strange from the start, even beyond the lack of information on his employer. He should have just accepted his limitations. Securing a relic? That wasn’t his world. What the hell did he even know about fine art? He chose the pieces in his home for their beauty, nothing more.
“Who is it?” he called through the closed door. He looked through the peephole. The nausea that had started to chew on his stomach receded. It was the redhead from last night. How had she found him? They had gone to a hotel. “It was just a one-nighter, baby.”
She pounded on the door.
Crazy broad. Guess she just wants more of me.
“Now’s not a good time,” he said.
“You can open this door or I can. Your choice.”
This chick was certifiably nuts. It was probably best not to broach the subject of how she had tracked him down.
“Come on, it was a fun evening, but let’s leave it in our memor—”
The woman pulled back her white fur coat to reveal the pearl handle of a handgun. “I know you’re watching me through the peephole. Now open up. Last warning.”
Now she was threatening to shoot him through the door? The ice in her eyes told him she was fully capable of following through on her words. He recognized it in her eyes now, one killer to another. He must have been blind not to see it two nights ago.
“Opening up.” He pulled his gun from his waistband, undid the chain on the door, and then unlocked the bolt.
She opened the door, came inside, and rushed past him. He’d dealt with his share of crazies, but this one took the cake. He held the gun on her. “Listen, baby, we had fun, but it’s over. Okay?”
She gestured toward the door, not showing any concern about the barrel aimed on her. “Close it. Now.”
Again, her voice was level and cool.
“Listen. Veronica, is it?”
“You’re quickly losing your appeal.” She drew her weapon to match his. “Close. The. Door.”
He put his hands up. “All right.”
“Now lock it.”
Why was she here? What did she want from him?
“My name is Veronica Vincent,” she began.
“Yes, I believe we’ve met.”
She kept eye contact with him until it clicked into place. His employer’s name was V. He pulled out on his shirt collar. “V?”
“Yes.” A sly smile. “I see that you understand now. I can put this away?” She let her eyes trail over him, and he figured she was assessing any potential risk to herself.
His earlier thought that he worked for scary sons of bitches struck him then. In this case, it wasn’t a son of a bitch, just a bitch, but he was certain she came with an army of “sons.”
He nodded and holstered his gun.
“Good.” She put hers away and took a few steps. “It seems that a simple job has become complicated.”
Her words laid a trap. There was nothing to gain by opening his mouth. He waited it out for her to continue.
“You couldn’t secure the statue. You failed.”
Again, another attempt to get him to argue, to defend himself. He remained silent.
She smirked. “Your self-restraint is good, I’ll give you that. You came highly recommended, but I must say I am disappointed. I had my heart set on the Pandu. I had a considerable investment in that endeavor.” She snaked around him, brushing her fingertip over his clothes as she circled. She stopped and pressed her finger into his chest. “But you are brilliant.”
If he spoke now, he risked stammering, but remaining quiet was no longer an option. She was waiting on him to speak.
“Brilliant,” he reiterated.
“Yes, of course. Because of you, I will have the City of Gold.”
A tingle ran down his spine. He didn’t like the way she was presenting this. Because of you.
“Well, I accepted their offer. And you”—she drew her hand from his chest up to his chin, her fingertips a whisper against his skin—“are going to help them find it.”
“I’m going to what? No way. I’m not a treasure hunter.” He removed her hand from his chest.
“You work for me,” she said.
“Nope, no, not anymore. I’ll give back the advance.”
“I think you’re forgetting some things, Ian Bridges.”
He winced. She had said his name loud enough that his hostage would have heard her. The options were bloody but doable. Kill the girl, kill Veronica, and run.
“Now, I see it in your eyes. You are scheming. How adorable. But you don’t have the resources to run from me. See, I have people on my payroll all over the world. I have killers even better than you. I mean, well, obviously.”
“You never hired me to kill. You hired me to get a statue back.” He almost spat out stupid statue. The tingles in his spine intensified, which was a telltale sign that bad news was imminent. If she had all these men working for her, why did she involve him in the first place?
She continued. “I do give you kudos on the whole kidnapping approach, by the way. Hostages are better motivators than dead victims. It was fresh thinking and, given the circumstances, not entirely stupid. And I am willing to dismiss the entire thing on one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“You are going on a little excursion, Mr. Bridges.”
The hairs on the back of his neck rose, signaling his rage at her saying his name again. “What about the girl?”
“She will be safe with me. Speaking of, where is she?”
Ian waved toward the living area and watched Veronica—V—saunter off. How the hell had he gotten himself into this mess? He should have listened to that little voice in his head that had told him not to accept the job proposal in the first place. On the upside, if the City of Gold did exist, maybe time machines did, as well, and he could go back and reverse all this.
-
Chapter 16
IT WAS ELEVEN O’CLOCK by the time Matthew returned home. There were only a few lights on inside the house, but the outside was lit up as if it were the White House. The amount his father had paid for the display cost well over the average yearly household income in Ontario. Just another show for William Connor.
Matthew knocked on Daniel’s door. He had called Daniel hours earlier to have him start making the arrangements.
“There you are,” Daniel said, ushering Matthew inside.
The man’s quarters testified to his love of history and fondness for collectibles. With dull lighting, dark furniture, and built-in bookshelves, it held the noir feel of a private investigator’s office. One almost expected a burning pipe to be resting in an ashtray, but Daniel was not a smoker. He had a pine desk in one corner that stood in contrast to the mahogany walls. It was the lightest accent in the room. Even the tapestries were a wild, dark pattern that matched the chair and ottoman in front of the fireplace.
“Do you have everything under control?” Matthew asked.
&
nbsp; “As far as Bolivia is concerned, you are there for a holiday.”
“Daniel, that’s not going to work. When we find it—”
“It will all be fine. Even as a tourist, you’d get the credit. I’m not going to lie that there won’t be a lot of red tape involved, but we can manage that afterward.”
Matthew preferred to remain positive. They were going to find Paititi, rescue Sophie, and lay stake on the City of Gold.
“I must say I don’t like the circumstances or the rushed nature of this expedition. Are you sure this is the only way to save the girl?” The look in Daniel’s eyes right then was like a grandfather’s, loving and soft. He put a hand on Matthew’s shoulders and peered into his eyes.
Matthew bobbed his head and let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, it’s the only way. They wanted the Pandu, but obviously that’s not an option.”
“And you’re sure breaking into a museum wouldn’t be easier?”
“Maybe it would be easier.” Matthew shrugged. “I did give it consideration, but it’s not what we do, Daniel.” Matthew had no qualms about retrieving treasures from centuries ago, but stealing them and risking prison time wasn’t in his life plan.
“I know.” The man sighed. “And Sophie? Where is she going to be while you’re in Bolivia?”
“I don’t know.” Matthew backed up and opened his hands. “I have no idea.”
“We need to involve the police.”
“We’ve discussed this already and you know it’s not an option. We’ve specifically been told to keep this from them.”
“Bah, of course you have, but that doesn’t mean—”
“It does, Daniel.”
They locked eyes for a moment before Daniel nodded.
“But it doesn’t mean we do nothing,” Matthew said.
Daniel looked at him quizzically. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“I made some terms of my own.”
One side of Daniel’s mouth rose. Matthew loved to see that he had impressed the man.
“They will be sending proof of life videos at the end of each day.”
“Videos? But how on earth are you supposed to be looking at those? You’ll be in the jungle, fighting for your life—” He paused. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The sentiment was true. Matthew was worried enough for all of them. Robyn was right when she had said it took months, at the very least, to pull off an expedition of this size. He was hopping on plane based on a potential find and completely relying on a few images. He witnessed the question in Daniel’s eyes. “You’ll be getting the videos to your phone.”
“And what am I supposed to do with the videos?”
“You’re going to investigate them.”
“Now you’ve lost me. I’m not a detective, sir.”
“At some point they have to mess up, and it will provide a clue as to her location.”
“At least you hope so. And let’s say they do slip up and I manage to pinpoint where she is, then what am I supposed to do? You specifically said a moment ago, we’re not supposed to involve the police.”
“We’re not.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If we can figure out where Sophie is being held, we can free her ourselves when we get back.”
“Oh, Matthew, are you sure that—”
“I am trusting you to take care of this, Daniel. Is my faith misplaced?” Matthew hated putting the man on the spot. After all, if it weren’t for his hard work in researching Paititi, they wouldn’t have had anything to barter with. Then where would they be? Where would Sophie be? “I’m sorry, but it’s the only way.”
“No, no, it’s all right. I will figure it out.”
Matthew clapped the man on the shoulder. “Just be careful. Hopefully everything will come together and we’ll be able to secure both Paititi and Sophie.” Matthew refused to entertain a different outcome.
“I’ve never seen you leave for an adventure so ill-prepared.”
“I know and I hope it doesn’t cost us dearly.”
“Juan and Lewis—my contacts in Bolivia—will be waiting for you at the Viru Viru Airport. When you get there it will be night, so I suggest you start your trek at the crack of dawn. But tonight, they’ll drive you sixty-five miles along a local highway. In the morning, they’ll accompany you downriver for nine miles. From there, it will be a hike of ten miles through jungle and mountain terrain.”
“Thank you for everything, Daniel.”
The man dipped his head in recognition, and Matthew turned to leave but spun around halfway to the door.
“One more thing.” Matthew pulled a card from his jacket pocket. “Please give this to my father.”
“Why not give it to him your—” Daniel skimmed the card. “Ah, I see.”
“You said the old man wanted acknowledgment from Gideon, that even a card would do.” Matthew shrugged. “I had Cal write it out in case my father recognized my handwriting.”
Daniel tapped it against the palm of his other hand. “When shall I give it to him?”
“Tomorrow evening should be good. Maybe tell him that Gideon dropped it off in person when my father wasn’t home.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
Matthew laughed. “Well, it’s not far from the truth.”
He headed out of Daniel’s room, shut the door behind him, and leaned against it from the other side, considering if he should act on his thought to see his father. He’d only had that brief conversation with his father yesterday morning about going on a dig in Rome, and now he was turning around and leaving tomorrow morning. With William’s recent curiosity about Gideon, he’d better update him. He doubted his father would worry, but he didn’t need any more going on than there already was.
Matthew made his way to William’s den. Hopefully the old man was still up. He rapped on the door, but despite the light, no one was in there. That left one other place. His father was boringly predictable. He had a ritual before bed that involved laps in the pool, followed by reading in his den.
He took the stairs to the basement in the east wing of the house. His father had installed the saltwater lap pool not long after they had moved in. His father swore that the salt water was just as healing and therapeutic as the exercise. Matthew had yet to take so much as a dip in it.
William’s arms cut through the water, and Matthew took position at the end where his father was headed.
William reached the edge, stopped, and looked up. He must have sensed he had a visitor.
“Are you finally going to take a swim?” William regarded Matthew’s wardrobe. “Where is your suit?”
“Dad, I’m not here to—”
“Excuse me, but did you just call me Dad? Wow, did the market crash? Have we lost everything?”
Matthew noticed how his father’s concerns went straight to material things, as always. “I’m going to be heading off earlier than I had expected.”
“Are you going to Rome?” William asked.
“Ah, yeah. Rome.”
“The discovery of a road system or some such thing?”
Matthew hadn’t provided him the details about Rome. What was going on? First, his questions about Gideon and now he was researching archeological digs? “Yes.”
“And when will you be back?” William swiped his hands down his face to drain the water.
“About a week.”
“A week? That’s a short stint.”
“That’s why I have to go now.”
“All right, I see. Well, we’ll talk when you get back, then.” William pushed off the side of the pool, and his strokes chewed up the water.
“Yeah, we’ll talk later,” he muttered to himself. “If I survive…”
-
Chapter 17
MATTHEW CRAW
LED INTO BED, and after a few hours, he wasn’t sure why he had bothered. Sleep wasn’t going to happen with so much on his mind—the city of Paititi, concern over Sophie, and his father’s sudden interest in Gideon.
Maybe the research he did before trying to sleep was partially to blame. He had explored some of the perils that existed in Bolivia—wild animals, poisonous snakes and insects, rough terrain, and unpredictable weather—and his mind kept coming back to the jaguars. One translation of Paititi was “the city of the jaguar.” It was unlikely they’d spot one, though, due to the shy nature of the animal. The big cats hunted at night and rarely revealed themselves to humans. He remembered a documentary that showed one man trying to spot one for thirty days before it had actually happened.
He also studied the photographs taken by Daniel’s contacts, Juan and Lewis. There seemed to be about two miles from the point where the tunnel-shaped anomaly showed to the large rectangular area.
Shaking his head, he did his best to dismiss his own terminology. Anomaly. That’s possibly all it was, yet they were wagering everything on it being something.
He gave up on the illusion that sleep was going to happen and pulled himself from bed at four thirty. The plane was set to leave at six, and he was actually thankful the flight was a long one. Hopefully he’d be able to catch some shut-eye.
Once they touched down in Bolivia, they’d spend the night in a hotel near to where they’d set off down the river. At first light, the real trek would begin. Not only did they have to find a centuries-old hidden city but they had only a week to complete the mission. Actually even less. Six days now, and with one day eaten up by travel, that would go down to five.
Stepping outside into the brisk early-morning air, Matthew watched his breath leave him in wispy clouds.
He unlocked his Jeep Patriot and threw his hiking bag into the back. It held only the essentials, including water, food, clothing, a sleeping bag, a first aid kit, some flares, and a tent. There was also a switchblade and a machete for clearing terrain. What the typical hiker didn’t carry was a Smith & Wesson. He and his friends all had their own. Treasure hunting wasn’t a safe business by any means, and it didn’t hurt to be prepared. With Vincent’s men accompanying them, there was even more reason to be armed.
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