Mountain Secrets

by Elizabeth Goddard

  Through the clear glass, a shadow stalked past them.

  Jason pulled Isabel to the floor. Her heart revved into high gear as they scurried around to the far side of a bench and slipped into a tight space between the tall potting benches. At least they were out of view. Once again, their knees were touching as they faced each other in a small space.

  After a moment, Jason spoke in a hushed tone. “Can you remember what you straightened up and what you threw away?”

  Isabel waited for her heart to slow down before responding. Of course he was thinking about the bookmark. She closed her eyes, trying to remember. “There were some things left in the kitchen by the cleaning crew, just packaging from cleaning products.”

  “No boxes or anything that something might be hidden in.”

  Her memory fogged. The whole thing felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. “I’m not sure. I just automatically straighten up as I do my first walk through the house.”

  “It’s okay.” He reached over and touched her knee. “I know this violence is probably not what you’re used to.”

  He had no idea. She’d pulled off her impression of respectability enough that he probably would never guess that running from the law, sneaking around and hiding were what she was proficient in at one time in her life.

  “Can you visualize the rooms you went into and what you did in each one?”

  She understood what he was doing. They couldn’t just randomly go banging through the house. They had to be stealthy about where they searched.

  She closed her eyes and tried to remember. Her usual routine was to go to the kitchen first and throw out food in the cupboards that looked like it was past its expiration date and then walk through the main rooms in the house, but was that what she had done this time? “Mostly I just closed doors and straightened things.”

  She lifted her head in time to see a bright light flashing. “He’s coming this way.”

  Both of them rolled underneath benches that held heavy foliage.

  The door creaked open. Footsteps tapped on the concrete floor as the flashlight illuminated different sections of the room.

  Isabel held her breath. Her stomach pressed against the cold concrete floor. The thief leaned over and shone the light beneath the benches, coming within a few inches of where she hid.

  Oh God, don’t let him find us.

  The thief dropped the flashlight. It rolled across the floor, lighting up the area just in front of Jason’s face.

  The flashlight blinked on and off. The batteries must’ve been failing. The thief picked it up and tapped it on his palm. The light stabilized for a moment and then went out altogether.

  The thief cursed.

  She heard a second voice at the doorway. “Come on. We got to hurry.”

  “My flashlight went out, man.” The voice was Mr. Knife’s.

  “Never mind. I have mine. Forget about those two for now. Let’s keep looking. We got to get out of here as soon as there is a break in the storm.”

  “What if they have it already?”

  After a long pause, Mr. Gun spoke up. “We’ll find them soon enough and deal with them whether they have the merchandise or not.”

  Mr. Knife let out a heavy breath that sounded more like a groan. “Yeah, they’ll get what’s coming to them. No one horns in on our sweet deal.”

  The words chilled Isabel to the bone. She remained still until she could no longer hear their footsteps. Jason had already rolled out from underneath the bench.

  Her eyes had adjusted more to the darkness, and she could see actual plants, vegetables and orchids instead of just shadows and outlines. Her eyes landed on a book placed on a waist-high bench, probably a book about gardening. Why else would it be in here?

  A memory clicked in her head. Books...out of place. “I picked up some books that were by the entryway table and put them back in the library on the fourth floor.” When she’d first arrived, she’d whirred through the house picking up, throwing away and straightening.

  “That would be a good place to hide a bookmark,” he said. “Lead the way.”

  They’d have to go through the house and take the main stairway to get to it.

  As though he’d read her mind, Jason said, “Maybe I should lead the way.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Stay low and close to the wall,” he said.

  They slipped out of the greenhouse and into the shadows. Isabel pressed close to Jason and listened for the sound of approaching assassins.

  * * *

  Jason scanned the open area on the main floor and then searched the darker corners for movement. He hated putting Isabel at risk like this, but the last time he’d left her alone, the man with the knife had taken her. The safest place for her in a house with armed men bent on killing them was right by his side.

  It made sense that the bookmark was in some books on the entryway table. Hiding things in plain sight was the strategy of the courier who dropped off the stolen treasure.

  Jason had taken footage through a window of a painting stolen from a European art gallery. The drop-off man had hung it among the much more amateur efforts of the homeowner. This information helped the FBI understand the mind of the man or woman who was engineering the smuggling. There had to be easier ways to smuggle valuables into the country. There must be a reason why the mastermind chose vacation homes.

  The whole investigation was quite involved. Several other private investigators had been hired to watch unoccupied houses for activity. Usually, the Bureau would get wind of items being stolen in different parts of the world from US Customs or foreign governments, and then within a week or so, activity would pick up in Silver Strike.

  Jason and Isabel hurried toward the stairs with Isabel taking the lead since she knew the layout of the house.

  Light flashed at the end of the hallway.

  Jason pressed against the wall and held out a protective hand toward Isabel. She stood close enough for her soft hair to brush under his chin. Her hand cupped his arm just above the elbow. Her touch sent a charge of electricity through him.

  She was afraid, but brave enough to keep her cool.

  The light disappeared into a room.

  Isabel tugged on Jason’s sleeve and turned to take the stairs that led to the second floor.

  The thieves had to know the bookmark was in a book. They must have found the library by now but clearly hadn’t found the bookmark. He hoped they weren’t walking into a trap.

  He glanced over his shoulder. The light bobbed at the end of the hallway but didn’t reach them.

  They raced up to the second-story landing, which was almost completely dark. They had only a short stairway to get up to the dome.

  The pounding of footfalls behind them reached Jason’s ear. Then the cool metal of a knife blade pressed into his neck. He steeled himself against the attack, ready to fight back.

  “Go,” he said to the darkness, hoping that Isabel would understand.

  He could handle this guy but he didn’t want her hurt.

  “Where is it?” said the thief. “We looked in the library.”

  Jason elbowed the man in the stomach. The man backed away. In the darkness, Jason had to rely on his other senses to figure out where his opponent was. He was grateful for the years he’d spent studying martial arts.

  He swung at the air, colliding with flesh. A hand gripped his wrist and yanked him around. His head rammed against a wall. Stunned, he whirled around and landed a blow that made the man groan. He hit the man’s back with a karate chop. The thief fell to the floor, making a cracking sound followed by another thud.

  Jason braced himself for the man to jump to his feet and lay into him again, but he didn’t move. Jason kicked him. He must have hit his head against the banister. Jason leaned over. The man was still breathing but out cold.

&nbs
p; He felt around for the knife but couldn’t find it, and he couldn’t waste any more time. The noise of the fight might have alerted the other man on the floor below and that guy had a flashlight and a gun.

  Jason hurried down the hallway in the direction he’d heard Isabel’s footsteps retreating. When he felt for his phone in his shirt pocket it was gone. It must have fallen out in the fight. There was no time to search for it now. He reached out a hand to the textured wall to orient himself. Up ahead he saw light.

  The whiteness of the overcast sky provided some illumination through the glass dome of the library. It looked like the storm was letting up. Isabel was pulling books off the shelf and flipping through them. A stack already sat on the floor that she or the thieves had worked through.

  She turned toward him. “Quick—lock the door.”

  He shut the door and turned the latch.

  “You don’t remember which book?”

  “I know I put them away in this area here.” She swept her hand across a section of shelves.

  “Any sign that the thieves were here?”

  She pointed across the room. The library was round with books that ran from the floor to the edge of the glass dome. “Those books over there are arranged by size and color. Don’t ask. It’s a rich-people thing.” She grabbed another book off the shelf and filed through it. “Anyway, they are out of place. Those guys must have gone through those books searching. I got to hand it to them. They are tidy.”

  Maybe the thieves wouldn’t get as big a payday if there was any evidence of a break-in. During the other jobs, the thieves had used lock picks or had known the security codes and nothing had been disturbed.

  With a backward glance at the door, Jason grabbed a book and riffled through it. “Is there another way out of here in case we have to make a speedy exit?”

  She pointed to a door. “It leads to another balcony. This one has stairs. No way could we drop four floors and live.”

  He grabbed another book and leafed through it. If he lifted it toward the dome, he could see better. He put the volume back in place and grabbed another. At best, they had minutes before the thief on the floor below came to and headed toward them.

  Isabel pulled books and flipped through them at a furious pace.

  Someone banged on the door and wiggled the handle.

  Jason worked even faster. “It’s got to be here somewhere.”

  The pounding stopped. Jason moved closer to the door and listened. “He’s picking the lock.” He stalked back to the bookshelf and pulled another hardback.

  Isabel slid a book back into place and grabbed another. She bent the spine of the hardback. A shiny object fell to the floor. She picked it up.

  “Jason,” she said. She had found it.

  “Let’s go,” he said. She shoved the bookmark in the pocket of the coat he’d given her and zipped it.

  The door burst open as they raced toward the balcony. The short muscular man raised his gun and fired off a shot. Isabel grabbed Jason’s hand.

  Jason pushed open the door that led to the balcony.

  They descended with the armed man at their heels. Another shot blasted through the silent night but it went wide. Even with the flashlight, the man couldn’t see much better than they could.

  Jason could hear the footfalls behind him. They had to find a way to shake this guy and find a hiding place. Isabel held tight to his hand. She understood the importance of not getting separated.

  He stayed close to the house, running the full length of it. They ended up in the driveway beside his useless van. He crouched low and Isabel slipped in beside him. Footsteps pounded past and then faded.

  “He might come back,” she whispered.

  Jason hurried to the side of the van and eased the passenger door open. “Get in. I suspect he’ll go in the house to get his accomplice first.”

  She complied.

  “Crawl toward the back and stay low.”

  He got in behind her. His surveillance equipment was stacked in a corner though barely visible in the near darkness.

  “How long do you think we should stay here?” Isabel kept her voice to a whisper.

  “Not long.” He rifled around in the dark, taking the time to lock each door. “I have another coat in here, extra hat and gloves.” He slipped into the heavier coat and tossed the gloves and hat toward Isabel.

  He dug through another pile of stuff to find a hat and pair of gloves for himself. It wasn’t his first day at camp. He always had lots of cold-weather gear on hand.

  He grabbed his keys out of the ignition. The key ring had a small flashlight on it that might be useful.

  He pulled the gun out from his waistband and stared at it. Though he went to the range every week, he had never had to use the gun while working. It might come down to that tonight.

  Jason could not see Isabel’s expression in the darkness, but he sensed the tension that had invaded the tiny space.

  “Detectives carry guns. That’s just how it is.” He held out his hand. “Can I see the bookmark?”

  Suspicion clouded her voice. “Why?”

  Jason’s stomach coiled into a tight knot. Here they were, back at square one again. If she didn’t trust him, they might not survive the night. They had to work together. Both their lives depended on it.

  Why was it so hard to win her trust?

  FIVE

  Isabel looked at what appeared to be a computer screen and keyboard. “What is all this stuff? Surveillance equipment?” So far, Jason had done nothing to harm her and had risked his own safety to help her. Maybe he really was a detective. That didn’t mean he was an honest detective. Past experience told her not to be too quick to trust. Jason was keeping secrets, and she didn’t like that. What was he hiding? She touched the pocket where she’d placed the bookmark.

  Jason let out a heavy breath and shook his head. “Hold on to the bookmark if you want.”

  Her chest squeezed tight with indecision. “I don’t like liars.” The intensity of her words surprised her. The pain of what she had been through with Nick was still very close to the surface despite how long it had been—she still had not let any man into her life or heart. But she had started to think Jason might be okay. That scared her. How had he managed find the chink in her armor in such a short time? So what if he was protective and kept her safe. He was still a man and men always let you down in the end.

  “I don’t like liars either, Isabel, but if I tell you what is going on, it puts you at greater risk.”

  Jason’s voice had a soothing quality, not the anger or impatience she would have expected. She laced her fingers together and clenched her jaw.

  Don’t be taken in.

  He turned from side to side, searching. “At least put some cardboard around it. If it gets damaged, it loses its value.”

  “Maybe you are a detective, but I think you are on the take.” Her accusation lacked conviction. She could feel her resolve to not trust him weakening in the face of his gentle response.

  He tore a section of cardboard off an empty box. “Give me the bookmark. I promise to give it back to you if that’s what you want.”

  She unzipped the coat and slipped her hand into the inside pocket.

  “I promise,” he repeated.

  How many times had she heard that?

  She grasped the bookmark and handed it to him. Their fingers touched briefly. He placed it carefully in the folded cardboard. She tensed, waiting for the moment when he’d shove it in his pocket and pull the gun on her.

  He held it out for her to take.

  She let out a breath. “Keep it.” So he’d kept one small promise. He still had a lot of explaining to do.

  A light flashed outside.

  “He’s coming this way.”

  The light had shone through the windshield.

 
Jason touched her arm. “Out the back. Hurry.”

  He pushed open the van doors. They bolted toward the house, pressing against the brick walls. The eaves of the roof provided even more darkness to hide in as footsteps pounded around the van and drew closer.

  Jason pushed on Isabel’s shoulder, indicating she should keep moving. The cold seeped into her face as she made her way along the outside wall. They needed to find a good hiding place.

  Isabel thought about the layout of the house. The wine cellar in the basement had a stairway leading up to the outside. They wouldn’t be trapped if they hid there and needed to make a run for it.

  “This way.” She tugged on the sleeve of his coat and led him around to a side entrance.

  Isabel pressed her hand against the exposed brick and struggled to get her bearings in the dark house as they moved down a set of stairs. Footsteps pounded on the floor above them. They’d lost their pursuer for now.

  Her heart raced as she felt along the wall, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She pushed open a door. The shelves of wine were barely discernible.

  Jason slipped in beside her. His shoulder pressed against hers. A tense silence fell around them, interrupted by footsteps above them that came in short bursts.

  “They’re still looking,” she whispered.

  “It’s just a matter of time. We have to find a way to get out of here. They have a car parked somewhere close by.”

  “We could freeze trying to find it.”

  “We need a sure thing. Aren’t there any neighbors close by?”

  Isabel shook her head. “The nearest one might be miles away. They are up the road, not down. This is the first house in the subdivision.” Though the storm had let up, it was still dark and cold out there. She squeezed her eyes shut, mulling over what Jason had said. A sure thing. There were no other vehicles on the property or houses close by, but... “There’s a communal building. That is one of the perks of this subdivision.”

  “This is a subdivision?”

  “Yes, but the houses are miles apart.”

  “What’s in the building?”