Buried Beneath

by Debbie Baldwin

  Steady bobbed his head. “Good.” He beamed at the group and did his best Tiny Tim. “God bless us, everyone.”

  Nathan clapped once. “All right, I’m kicking everyone out. Maggie and Uncle Charlie are watching the boys, and Herc is picking up my mother at the airport in the morning. This is our nap window.”

  Miles appeared at the door with a cardboard tray of coffees, passed one to Nathan and one to his brother, then joined the goodbye hugs as the men shuffled out. Twitch stood from the bed.

  “I love little Charlotte, Emily. Thank you.”

  Emily squeezed her friend's hand. “We love you. And it doesn’t hurt that you have a great name.”

  Twitch stared at her sneakers. “And it isn’t that I don’t like my name. I do like it. It's just… Charlotte is different from Twitch, you know?”

  Emily waited for her friend to look up. “You happen to be speaking to an expert on that subject. So yes, I do know.”

  Twitch laughed, “Right. I sort of have an alternate identity too, I guess. But mine isn’t secret like yours was.”

  Nathan sat on the other side of the bed and gently lifted the baby from his wife's arms. He settled Charlotte into her bassinet with a kiss and returned his attention to his wife. He pressed his lips to the back of Emily's hand and tucked the covers around her as he spoke. “We love Twitch, and we love Charlotte. As long as you’re happy, we’re happy.”

  Twitch stood with a sad smile and promised to return the next day.

  Emily snuggled into her pillow and spoke to her husband. “Do you think she and Finn will ever work things out?”

  Nathan expelled a weary sigh. “I honestly don’t know. He's never going to be the man he was. I guess the question that remains is what kind of a man will he turn out to be?”

  “I hope it's a man who can love Twitch the way she deserves. That's my Christmas wish.”

  He kissed her forehead and lay down beside her. “We already got our Christmas wish.”

  Emily yawned. “Maybe we’ll get two this year.”

  Nathan kissed his wife. “I’ll tell you what I told Cam last week. Sometimes these things work out in unexpected ways.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Beaufort, South Carolina

  January 9

  C

  am sat at the far end of the cherry wood table and drank in the scene. Nathan and Emily's dining room was illuminated by the candles flanking a centerpiece of white roses and vintage sconces emitting a romantic glow. Evan was on his right, her hand resting absently on his thigh. Calliope sat to his left, watching Emily tuck a pink blanket around the baby. He’d have to be blind not to see the longing in Calliope's eyes.

  “Is anybody going to eat that?” On Calliope's left, Tox eyed the last piece of chocolate cake on the plate in the center of the dining room table.

  Maggie Bishop had provided the cake—along with enough frozen meals to feed an army for a month—and taken the twins for a sleepover. Evan and Cam had brought dinner and wine. Calliope had arrived with flowers and yet another stuffed animal for baby Charlotte, and Tox had brought his appetite.

  “It's all yours. I haven’t eaten this much in months.” Emily shifted the baby in her arms. “Thank you for bringing dinner, Evan. Everything was delicious.”

  “And the wine is exceptional. I wasn’t familiar with your father's vineyard,” Nathan added.

  “Treasure Trove winery only produces about forty thousand cases a year. They also make a nice zinfandel along with this pinot.” Evan held the wine glass by the stem.

  “I can’t wait to taste it.” Emily followed the movement of the liquid in the goblet.

  “A sip won’t hurt.” Nathan slid his glass to his wife. “My mum says a little wine in the breast milk does wonders for their sleeping.”

  Emily pushed the wine away. “Your mother also thinks martinis and espresso are two of the four major food groups.

  “True.” Nathan polished off the pinot noir.

  Calliope forked a bite of cake from her husband's plate. “Evan, when are you heading back to California?”

  Cam had been silent for the last several minutes, content to listen to his friends talk and overjoyed with how easily Evan had meshed with the group. She turned to him then and leaned closer. “I’m not.”

  All eyes shifted to them. Cam looked at Evan. “We want to be together.”

  “I’m changing my dissertation to focus on the antiquities of the Moors lost during the Crusades. Unfortunately, that means delaying my Ph.D. The good news is, I can work remotely.”

  Tox ran his fork along his dessert plate, gathering the last of the buttercream. “That's awesome.” He pointed the tines at Cam. “Just you and Evan and Steady in that dilapidated beach house. It's a sitcom come to life.”

  “Not exactly,” Evan clarified. “I’m a little more, um, practical than Cam.”

  “What Evan means is that she thinks it's crazy to move in together after knowing each other for six weeks, which, I might add, is exactly how long my parents knew each other before they were married, but I get it.”

  “Cam, you’re my first real relationship.”

  “No querida. I am your last real relationship.”

  Cam looked up to see four sets of eyes on them.

  Calliope pressed her temple to her husband's shoulder. “Wow. Gold star, Cam.”

  Nathan took the sleeping infant from his wife, switched on the baby monitor, and disappeared down the hall.

  “So basically,” Tox wiped the chocolate from his mouth. “You’re going to blow a lot of rent money on an apartment you never use and stay with Cam every night.”

  “Wrong, “Cam corrected. “I’ll spend every night at her place. We don’t need Steady popping his head in every ten minutes to see if we want to binge-watch The Mandalorian.”

  “Evan, what's happening with the diamond?” Emily asked.

  Sparked by the topic, Evan leaned forward. “The Panther's Eye was officially certified as the world's largest yellow diamond at two hundred and ninety carats uncut. The estimated value is two hundred eighty million dollars.”

  Tox gave a low whistle as Nathan walked back into the room and set a steaming mug in front of Emily. She tilted her head up to him, offering her lips, and he obliged.

  “Well,” Nathan commented as he took a seat. “That's quite a feather in your cap.”

  “What happens now?” Calliope asked.

  Tox put his arm around his wife. “It won’t be part of the crown jewels any time soon. It's probably already collecting dust in some government vault.”

  “I hope not,” Evan said. “Part of the joy of being an archaeologist is sharing your discoveries with the world.”

  “Any news on Gemini March?” Tox asked.

  “Nothing. Cam shared what information he had, but even with everything that went down in Mallorca, all it really amounted to was a well-supported theory. We weren’t exactly holding a smoking gun,” Nathan replied.

  Calliope added, “Gemini March hasn’t been seen. The tabloid rumor is that she's in rehab.”

  “She has intel on some extremely powerful criminals,” Cam said.

  “I gotta hand it to you, buddy. You unmasked an arch-villain, found a giant diamond, and got the girl. Not bad, considering you had no fucking clue what you were stepping into.” Tox tipped his glass to his friend.

  Cam rested his hand at Evan's nape. “Especially the girl.”

  Evan turned to Cam. “Dr. Emberton says we always seem to make the most wonderful discoveries quite by accident.”

  “He's right, mi amor. I found you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Undisclosed location

  January 19

  T

  he blacked-out Suburban traveled up the long drive and around the circular lawn. A statue depicting Venus and Mars crowned an empty fountain in the center of the grass. After pulling to a stop at the chateau entrance, the driver exited the car, moved to the back door, and escorted the dark-haire
d woman inside.

  Jennifer Sorenson, the Deputy Director of National Clandestine Services, waited in the soaring hall wearing a black pantsuit and holding a tablet.

  “The CIA needs better disguises. It looks like a rat died on my head.” Gemini March pulled off the wide-brimmed hat and wig in one motion and dropped them to the parquet-tiled floor.

  Sorenson ignored the remark. “Welcome to your temporary home.”

  The model glanced around, taking in the Renaissance portrait art and the grand staircase. “I hope you included a decorating budget in that deal of yours.”

  “I’m sure you can suffer through while we go over details and logistics, and the team gets your villa in Mallorca kitted out.”

  She inspected a marble bust at the foot of the stairs with a look of disdain. “I’m not.”

  The DDO waved over the suited man standing in the corner who walked to the center of the foyer and placed a black briefcase on the circular marble table. The man opened the case and the box within, then slowly pulled the cloth back to reveal The Panther's Eye.

  “This should take some of the sting out of your hardship,” Sorenson remarked.

  Gemini ran her fingers over the smooth stone. “Well done, Director. The great and powerful CIA works their magic.”

  “Technically, the diamond belongs to you. That cave is part of the March Mining property. We just provided the Spanish government with some very good incentives to agree with that assessment,” Sorenson said.

  “Joseph will be so pleased,” Gemini mused.

  “I rather thought he would want the diamond for himself,” Sorenson remarked.

  “Nothing would bring him greater joy than seeing it dangling from my neck. Not in that hideous medallion, of course. Something a bit more tasteful, I think.” Gemini pursed her lips in thought.

  “If you say so.”

  Gemini ignored the director's sarcasm and gestured vaguely. “I assume there's a vault somewhere in this monstrosity.”

  The DDO nodded to the man, who secured the diamond and left the room. She gestured to her right. “Why don’t we go into the dining room. We can go over everything there. The chef has prepared lunch according to your specifications.”

  “Fine,” Gemini huffed.

  Sorenson smiled then and spoke as she turned to walk into the next room. “Don’t look so put out, Ms. March. The Conductor is about to become the CIA's greatest asset.”

  EPILOGUE

  Miami, Florida

  April 3

  “T

  eam leader, do you have a visual? Repeat. Do you have a visual?” Cam whispered into his comm unit from the bushes behind the large beach house.

  The silence was infuriating. Finally, Tox spoke up. “Wait. I’m team leader? I thought you were team leader.”

  Ren chimed in, “No. We agreed in the van. You’re team leader. Cam is Cam.”

  Now it was Chat's turn. “Tox has a point. Cam should be team leader. Maybe we should all have different nicknames for this op,” he deadpanned.

  “Excellent idea,” Herc said from his perch. “For the duration of this op, I will be known as Thor.”

  “Guys,” Cam pleaded.

  Tox interjected, “Sorry, team leader. No, wait. That's me. Sorry, Cam. No visual yet. Oh, hey, did you guys know a fetus at four weeks gestation is the size of a blueberry? A baby the size of a fucking blueberry. Just picture that.”

  “Dude, it's not like it's a miniature, blueberry-sized baby. It's still forming and shit,” Steady chided.

  “Is this what we have to look forward to for the next nine months? Fetus factoids?” Ren asked.

  “Incoming,” Tox announced from the van parked across the street.

  Cam whispered into the comm, “I can’t see a fucking thing back here. Herc, trade spots with me.”

  “So we’re not a go with Thor?”

  “Herc!” Cam yelled.

  “Would you relax? I’m on the damn roof. You need to be on the ground.”

  Cam peered through the bushes and caught a glimpse of Evan's car as she pulled into the driveway of his grandparent's beachfront home. The car disappeared out of his line of sight.

  “Target acquired,” Tox confirmed.

  Cam heard the front door open and his grandmother's loud Spanish as she greeted Evan. He couldn’t catch everything she said, but he got the gist. She claimed she had been digging in the garden and had come across some pots that appeared quite old. She was playing her part well. Cam knew she would. His abuela loved a good scheme.

  “They’re entering the house. Heads on a swivel, boys.” That was Steady. The guy could joke in the middle of a gunfight, but for this op, he was all business.

  “Coming out the back.” Ren took over surveillance.

  Cam heard the screen door open and close and the two women laughing as they neared his hideout in the peonies. His abuela's voice carried across the flagstone patio.

  “I was just working the soil in the garden when the trowel made a clink. I smoothed the dirt away, and there was this small pot. I didn’t want to damage it, so I called you. What if it's some ancient Aztec relic?”

  “It really could be, Mrs. Canto. You’d be amazed what people find on their property.”

  Evan was a mere three feet away when she knelt and began brushing away the dirt. “There does appear to be something here. It's broken in two.”

  Cam was a ball of nerves as he watched her lift the first broken half of the dime store pot from the ground. That's when she saw the weathered, red leather Cartier box.

  “Oh my goodness, Mrs. Canto. I think you’ve stumbled upon someone's hiding place.”

  “That cannot be, nieta. We have lived here since we built this house.”

  Nieta. His abuela had called Evan, granddaughter.

  He waited, knowing curiosity would get the better of her. After ten seconds that felt like ten hours, she opened the ring box.

  “Oh my,” she gasped. Then realization hit. “Oh my!” Her free hand covered her mouth.

  Cam emerged from the bushes. “It was abuela's mother-in-law's ring. My great grandmother's from the nineteen twenties.”

  The Art Deco, emerald cut, yellow diamond was set in a platinum band with two baguettes, like tiny steps, on either side. His grandparents had saved the vintage ring for him.

  When she still hadn’t spoken, Cam came down beside her.

  She laughed and cried behind her hand. “Oh, Cam.”

  “Evan, will you marry me?”

  She looked up from the mesmerizing ring into his equally hypnotic eyes.

  “You know, when we were searching those caves all those months ago, and you were undercover, or whatever you call it, you didn’t think I knew you. But even then, I saw you, Camilo. I will always see you.”

  Cam pinned her with his gaze. “Answer the question, little mouse.”

  “Yes.” She tackled him into the dirt.

  “We are a go, people.” Steady's voice carried from Cam's ear.

  “Are you on comms?” Evan asked.

  He removed the small device and held it between them. “I needed some moral support.”

  “Abuela, cue the band,” Tox instructed.

  “Can you boys hear me? There's no microphone?” There was a thunk and some scraping as his grandmother fiddled with the earpiece.

  “We hear you. Go ahead and give Aarón and Kate the green light,” Tox encouraged.

  “Aarón, Kate? Can you hear me? She said yes!”

  Music sounded from the tent on the beach. Cam took the box from her hands and slid the ring onto Evan's finger.

  “You still sure about that big family?” he asked from beneath her.

  “Yes. And very much looking forward to expanding it.”

  Cam rumbled into her neck, “Let's skip the party.”

  She kissed him. “Your friends are staring, and your family is waiting.”

  “Fine.” He pushed to standing with Evan safe in his arms.

  “But after the p
arty, all bets are off.” She ran her hand down the placket of his dress shirt.

  The look he gave her had Evan's knees buckling, but Cam supported her, as she always did for him, and together, with a phalanx of imposing, protective friends surrounding them, they made their way down to the beach.

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to my editor, Peter Gelfan, for your invaluable assistance. I would also like to thank opinionated romance readers, Kara Horton and Dr. Mary Meyer, tech whiz, Henry Arneson, Steven Fox, Shari Stauch, and my mom, Shelley Johnson. Without your input, Buried Beneath would not be what it is. I also owe an enormous thank you to Ann-Marie Nieves and Suzanne Leopold, two women who went above and beyond to help a fledgling indie author.

  Most of all, to you, readers, thank you for your continued support. Another book in the Bishop Security series is coming soon!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Debbie Baldwin is a successful print media and television writer. She is a graduate of Princeton University and the University of Virginia School of Law. Debbie and her husband live in Saint Louis, Missouri with their puggle, Pebbles. They have three children in college.