by Lynn Patrick
He grinned at her, making her pulse speed a little faster.
“You certainly do,” she said, but she wasn’t thinking just about his investigative skills.
Rick Slater had a way of adding excitement to her life.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AS RICK FEARED, Gina didn’t return to Flanagan Manor, not even for her personal items. His attempt to flush the intruder into the open had gone a little too well. If only he’d been able to catch up with them when they left the restaurant.
A few days after the incident, he talked to Cora at the front desk. She was serving as both concierge and housekeeper for the time being.
“I’ve done this before,” she said with a sigh. “But I had a bit more notice. Is there no answer at either of Gina’s phone numbers?”
“One just rings and the other is disconnected.”
“Do you think she’s left town?”
“Probably. No one answered the door at her former address and the landlord says she moved.”
Cora sniffed. “How convenient. You never know when you can trust people, I guess.”
“How could you know? Her background check was clean. We were lucky a former employer said something about her.”
“But this means she was definitely involved in the shenanigans around here, right?”
“I’m certain of it,” Rick said. “If nothing else, she’s a person who wants or needs money and she’s willing to do whatever she has to do to get it.”
“But you still don’t have enough proof for the police to become more actively involved?”
“I told Detective Morse about it, but just as I suspected, there’s not enough proof of anything to make out a police report.”
Cora mused, “I thought he was a ghost. But I only saw him in a lightning flash.” Then she added, “Gina just took off and didn’t return to work after you saw them together—isn’t that suspicious enough for the police?”
“It may be suspicious, but it’s also circumstantial. Morse said Gina could say she just decided she didn’t want her job anymore.”
“What I want to know is how she and that man found out about the tunnels.”
That was just one of many questions, Rick thought, frustrated. He’d felt he was right on the edge of getting his hands on the intruder, but was now stymied. He’d asked questions around Kenosha, but only a few merchants remembered Gina, and none recalled anyone who looked like the mystery guy. But then, the town was mainly a bedroom city for both Chicago and Milwaukee these days, or a destination for tourists. It wasn’t the type of place where everyone knew everybody else’s business. Lots of people came and went. When Rick showed the owner of a hardware store a photo of Gina, the man said that she had been in there one time. That was it, and no one else offered any better information.
Rick’s cell phone rang and, to his surprise, he saw it was Murphy. “Excuse me,” he told Cora, moving away from the front desk. “I have to take a call. I’ll get back to you later.”
She sighed. “I’ll probably be right here.”
Rick switched on the phone. “Hey, Murphy.” He left the rotunda and stepped outside. “What’s up?”
“Hey, man, is this place yours?” Murphy asked.
“What place?”
“Flanagan Manor.” Murphy laughed. “I’m out in the parking lot.”
So his old friend had just dropped by unexpectedly. Rick said, “I live in the coach house out in back. Meet me lakeside on the portico.”
A moment later, Murphy joined him, saying, “Nice digs here.”
“Yeah, it’s great. I have an amazing view of Lake Michigan.”
“You about finished with this job?”
“Not quite.” Rick wasn’t going into detail.
They wandered down to the beach shooting the breeze, though Rick suspected Murphy had more important things to say.
“Whenever I’m at the edge of a big body of water, it feels like I’m at the edge of the world,” Murphy said as he took in the expansive view. “Even though I know maps show otherwise, looks like nothing but sky and water as far as you can see.”
Rick merely nodded.
Murphy went on, “And speaking of the world, guys like us are needed out there, Slater.”
So that’s why he had shown up. He’d wanted one last shot at getting Rick to change his mind. “You’re trying to talk me into re-enlisting again.”
“Our team needs a good leader. A decision will be made soon. The last guy didn’t care about us—he just stayed long enough to get a promotion. Meantime, we’re swinging in the breeze.”
“I did my turn and then some.”
“Yeah, but we miss you, man.”
Who missed him? Murphy was the only one he’d really been close to in the past several years. At least the only one who was still alive.
“I only wish Jackson and Mazurski could still miss me.” For once, Rick put names to the faces that haunted his dreams.
“The enemy is going to pick off somebody—”
“Not on my watch!”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I led them into that cave on bad intel. I was responsible for all of you.”
Murphy had nothing for that remark, but a few seconds later, he came back with “The only way you’ll get over a loss is to get back on the playing field.”
Was that the path back to redemption? Rick wondered, gazing out at the shifting waves and gulls circling overhead.
“Where’s your sense of honor, Slater? One loss and you walk away? You, who was always going on about us doing our patriotic duty?”
“I think I did my duty.”
“Of course you did, but then you gave up on us.”
“More like I gave up on myself. The guilt was killing me.” Something he had only told his therapist until now.
“Here’s your chance to give yourself a break. To make up for whatever guilt you’ve been nurturing. Time you got that monkey off your back.”
Part of Rick wanted to do just that. Wanted to make up for trusting the wrong informant. He’d been had. He’d led his men into that underground cave thinking they were going to find hostages. Instead they’d run into unexpected munitions. And enemies who’d tried to blow them all to kingdom come.
When he didn’t say anything, Murphy went on. “I know if you contact General Stanley, he can pull some strings. Get you in again without so much hassle.”
Again, Rick said nothing. He and Murphy had been through so much together, he couldn’t find it in himself to refuse him outright. And should he? That was the question. Maybe if he went back for one last tour, he could make up for what happened, could dispel the ghosts that shadowed him.
So when Murphy asked, “Will you think about coming back?” Rick figured it was the least he could do.
“All right. I’ll think about it.”
“Good. At least that’s something. Now I have to head out of here to catch a plane.”
Rick shook Murphy’s hand and they patted each other on the back awkwardly in a manly kind of hug. Murphy had turned and headed back for the parking lot when Rick noticed Heather standing some paces away. She looked visibly upset. He opened his mouth to say something only to have her whirl about and rush off.
What had she heard?
* * *
HER HEART FULL to bursting, Heather hurried around the side of the house, intending to return to the front yard where she’d been working. She thought she heard Rick behind her, so she quickened her pace. But his stride was twice as long as hers, and he quickly caught up to her.
“Heather, stop,” Rick demanded, taking hold of her arm.
She pulled away. “I have to get back to work.”
“We need to talk.”
She knew
it was useless but she told him, “I don’t want to talk.”
“Well, you obviously have something to say.”
Her emotions surged. She cleared her throat, fighting back tears. She wasn’t sure if she could form words in her turmoil. Finally, she managed to blurt out, “I know that working here as a handyman/PI isn’t what you’re used to.”
“I agree. It’s a lot less dangerous.”
“And if you want to go back, you certainly have the right to.” Even if it would break her heart. She kept her face turned slightly. She wouldn’t look directly at him. She knew she would sob if she did.
“Who’s going where?”
“I heard you, Rick. You’re thinking about re-enlisting.” Something she’d always feared, but she had allowed herself to get involved with this man anyway.
He took a deep breath. “I said I would think about it. I didn’t agree to anything.”
“Yet.”
“I feel I owe a debt of sorts. I lost two men.”
“Losing your own life won’t bring them back.”
“I don’t intend to lose my life...”
She cut in, “Nobody intends to, Rick, but loss of life is a reality in war, a loss that affects the ones you leave behind.” Feeling as if she were choking, she said, “Not that I can really count myself as someone you’d be leaving behind. I have no right to ask you to stay.”
He pulled her closer. “You have a right.”
She tried to shake off his grip. “Then, I’m sorry, but I can’t stand it, Rick! I’ve already lost enough.” She didn’t want to even think about something similar happening again. Though she tried to be stoic, tears spilled down her cheeks, making her feel helpless. “I can’t stand the possibility of losing another man I care about.”
He reached for her, enclosing her in his arms. “Then don’t think about it.”
“You told me the army was your family, that you were just trying out civilian life.”
“And it’s had some unexpected benefits.” He kissed her forehead.
Finally giving in, at least for the moment, she leaned against his chest. Was he just trying to make her happy now? She wanted to be happy, but she simply wasn’t convinced that everything would be all right. He still hadn’t said that he had no intentions of re-enlisting. In fact, he’d said he owed a debt.
“This isn’t your home,” she said. “You’ll have to leave Flanagan Manor once your job is done. And I can’t ask you not to do what you think is right.”
“Don’t worry, I always do what I think is right. I just need some time to know what that is for sure.” He lowered his voice, “I really care for you, Heather.”
Her heart sped up. Maybe he had been falling in love, too. But she forced herself to think about reality. “I have to do what’s right for my children and what’s right for me, too.”
“Of course. Children are a big responsibility.”
One that he didn’t want? Heather wondered. While she admired Rick’s sense of duty, she didn’t know how she could continue to see him if he was going to leave. Losing Scott had broken her heart and had shattered her world. It had taken three long years to rebuild a life that would bring her some joy and give her girls the security they needed.
Wanting to stay close to Rick, to cling to his warmth, she made herself push away. “While you’re thinking about your options, I’m going to think about mine.”
“Heather...”
“You can’t expect me to even consider going through all the grief again.”
He seemed reluctant, but he let her go. “I understand.”
They just stood there. Though there were only a few inches between them, it might as well have been miles. But Heather couldn’t, wouldn’t put her heart and her little family into a situation that was so fraught with danger.
Not knowing how long it would take him to make up his mind about the right thing, she simply turned and walked away.
* * *
TAYLOR HAD BEEN on her very best behavior. After they had heard there were going to be fireworks over the lake tonight the twins had begged Mommy to stay at the mansion. Cora, the white-haired lady, had invited them to a picnic on the beach. They told Mommy it was Friday and they didn’t have camp tomorrow, so they could stay up later. Mommy, who looked tired and a little sad for some reason, had finally agreed.
The twins had helped Mommy and Cora spread blankets on the sand. Then Cora and her friend, an older man, had dragged some canvas chairs over to sit in.
“The little arts festival downtown was very nice,” said the older man. “I enjoyed looking at the booths set up on the main drag. I even found some old picture frames for a good price.”
“This area of Wisconsin is great for antiquing,” said Cora, smiling.
Taylor didn’t know what “anticky” meant and she didn’t care. She shook her head when Rick, who had joined the small group when the food got served, offered her another piece of pizza. “Nope.” Pizza was okay but she preferred chicken nuggets.
“No, what?” said Mommy with a sharp look.
“No, thanks.”
Taylor sulked. She was finished with the food. Now she was sitting quietly on the blanket with Addison when she’d rather be running around. Mommy should be happy.
And Taylor still didn’t like Rick. Despite what Mommy said, she was certain he didn’t like her, either. He paid way more attention to Addison...when he wasn’t paying attention to Mommy. Daddy should be here, not Rick.
Beside her, Addison flopped back on the blanket. “Look at that big star over there.” Her sister pointed to a bright speck of light visible beyond the glow of the city.
“Hmmp,” grunted Taylor. “Stars are boring.”
“They are not,” argued Addison. “They’re made of fire. And we can count them.”
“I don’t want to count them.” Taylor didn’t want to get in an argument with her sister.
“Now, girls, you’ll soon have something more fiery to look at than stars,” said Cora.
“You’ll like the fireworks, honey,” Mommy told her.
Taylor did like the fireworks, which began a few minutes later. She caught her breath when a red blaze suddenly burst into spray above the water, accompanied by a slight whoosh and a boom.
“Oooh, look at that!” said Mommy.
“Gorgeous,” said Cora.
More fireworks exploded in cascades of blue and green and yellow and icy white. Taylor stared but tried hard not to act too impressed. As lots more firecrackers lit up the sky and made cracks and booms, she inched off the blanket, got to her feet and started sneaking away. No one saw her but Addison. Taylor made a face at her.
The adults were still watching the sky as she hurried off, planning to disappear...probably like everyone really wanted. She was too much trouble.
She didn’t even pause when she reached Rick’s house, instead skirting it to make a beeline for the big mansion. She heard the sound of voices as she passed the terrace, which was full of people. But only one woman glanced up to notice her. Soon, Taylor opened the big glass door that led into the mansion and went inside, intending to find the big room with the plants and statues.
The hallway was long and filled with shadows that made her heart thump a little harder. When she reached the plant room, Taylor thought she heard footsteps behind her. Scared, she stopped and turned but saw nothing. This big old house was spooky at night. But she would find her safe place.
The door to the glass plant room stood open. She hesitated a moment. Was someone in there?
Snaking her way around a fern and along the side of the big statue of a lady with flowers, Taylor ran her hands along the carving on the pedestal. When she touched an indented place, the hidden door opened. She smiled in satisfaction. Inside there was just enough room for her to hide al
ongside some books and a bag of paper money, bills like the one Mommy had taken from her. She would hide there like she had the last time, and if Mommy called her cell phone, she wouldn’t answer.
Taylor had crawled halfway in when she suddenly felt the presence of someone else in the room. She froze and glanced up into the angry face of a strange man.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked, sounding mean as he grabbed her.
Taylor tried to shriek but he covered her mouth with his large hand. “No-o-o!”
“Shut up!” His voice was rough. Then he spotted the pile of stuff in her secret place. “What is this?”
He had to let go of her to grab a handful of the dusty bills. “Money?”
She took the opportunity to run away. But he caught her, gave her a shake that rattled her teeth and covered her mouth again. “Not one noise! Not one or I’ll throttle you!”
Taylor didn’t know what “throttle” meant, but she was thoroughly scared. The man’s hair stood on end and he had eyes that were glittery and small like a snake’s.
He took a flashlight out of his pocket and shined it on the books and paper. “Old bills, hmm?” He took another big handful and stuck it in his pocket. Then another and another until he had it all. “Huh. Still no treasure, but I guess this is better than nothing.” Then he glanced around and looked back down at her. “You’re coming with me.”
Taylor tried to object, but his hand covered her mouth again. He half carried her to an opening in the wall and started down a dark, scary staircase. It smelled musty. Taylor went stiff, remembering monster stories about bad things that lived under bridges and houses. She screamed through his fingers, and when the man tightened his hold over her mouth, she tried to bite his hand.
“That’s enough of this!”
He didn’t let go as he bent over and searched through a big bag at the bottom of the stairs. From it, he took a roll of heavy tape. Ripping off a strip, he placed it over her mouth.
Taylor could hardly breathe!
Throwing her over his shoulder, the man continued down a dark tunnel, only stopping to smack her behind when she kicked and hit at him with her fists. The blow hurt, and Taylor sobbed. The man stopped for a moment and let her down just so he could use more tape to bind her wrists together. Then he hauled her back up and continued into the darkness. Tears seeped from Taylor’s eyes. Would she ever see Mommy or Addison again?