Killer Bunny Hill

by Denise Robbins

  “I need a magnifying glass.” His mind raced. Had they just found more pieces to the puzzle? Not just diamonds, flawless diamonds. Flat diamonds?

  Dragging his hand through his hair, Max got to his feet and handed Sam the square thingy. “We’ve got more questions than answers. What we need is a solid lead.”

  Sam cleared her throat, a nervous smile washed across her face. She looked uncomfortable, and had his full attention. The glint in her eyes hinted at a secret she wanted to share with him.

  He narrowed his eyes in anticipation. “Go ahead,” he said through dry lips.

  “I should have told you. I meant to.”

  Max leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest, and glared at her, waiting for Sam to find the words.

  “I did. But then…and…”

  When she didn’t spit it out, Max raised a sardonic brow.

  “Don’t keep me in suspense, Samantha.”

  She took a deep breath. Her lungs filling with air, Sam struggled to tell Max what she should have shared with him last night.

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you. Last night at the fire.”

  Max stiffened at her words, his face twisting into a scowl. She could almost feel the daggers his angry gaze threw at her. Guilt built up in her chest.

  “What now?”

  Reaching into her pocket, Sam pulled out the card and dropped it onto the table. “This.”

  He stared at it for the longest time, and she held her breath. What was he thinking?

  Then Max looked up, combed his fingers through his hair, and pinned her with golden-brown eyes to the spot where she stood. Her heart was rapid, and skipped beats. Why didn’t he speak?

  “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded with untamed fury.

  “I…I was think…”

  “You weren’t thinking,” he bellowed, his voice resonating off the walls. “You tampered with evidence, obstructed justice.”

  He was right.

  “Do you want to go to jail? Your father isn’t the police chief anymore. He can’t bail your ass out.”

  Sam cringed, and her cheeks flushed, but she met Max’s eyes. Forcing her shoulders back, she stood straight, held her ground. “I did what had to be done. Look,” she told him, pointing at the ID. “There’s a company name listed, Sixth Element. It’s a tangible lead, Max. One that could get us closer to finding your brother. I thought that’s what you wanted?”

  “You know it is,” he answered, his voice gentling. “What if it was the poor guy who died in the fire? What if it has nothing to do with the diamonds? We don’t have time to chase after rainbows.”

  “We won’t be. We’re already staring at the pot of gold.”

  * * * *

  Startled by her words, Max tore his gaze from the charred ID, and stared into Sam’s eyes, the green orbs sparkling with mischievous intelligence.

  “How can you be positive?”

  “Easy,” she answered, and smiled at him. The woman was beautiful. “Carbon is the sixth element in the periodic table.”

  He looked at her, perplexed, and waited. Then light dawned, and with it came a rush of pure joy. Samantha Spenser was not only beautiful, she was brilliant. And his. “Carbon is the building block of diamonds.”

  Sam’s smile so radiant, triumphant, threatened to blind him. Instead, Max was drawn to the sun, her heat. Without thinking, he reached for her, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her, thoroughly.

  When he released her, they were both breathless. His forehead pressed to hers, Max whispered, “Is it any wonder I love you? You’re the most amazing, incredible, intelligent, kissable woman I’ve ever met.” Reinforcing his point, Max kissed her again.

  “Here.” He picked up the ID, and handed it to her. “Put that with the rest. We’ve got an appointment with a jeweler.”

  “But what about…”

  “One thing at a time, Sam.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “Yabbits live in the woods.”

  “Ugh. If we split up we can cover more ground.”

  “We agreed, no unnecessary risks. That means we stick together.”

  * * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Max opened the door for Sam at the shop Betty had recommended, a place called ‘Rosenthal Jewelers’.

  “Samantha. Did you just get into town? How’d you know I was here?” Before they even made it to the counter, a tall blonde man had Sam in a too-friendly hug that had Max gritting his teeth.

  “Brad.” Extricated from his embrace, Sam turned to face him, and smiled apologetically. “Brad, I’d like you to meet my… my…”

  “Fiancé,” Max finished for her, offering a hand to shake.

  “You’re engaged?” Brad asked, looking from Sam to him, and back again, clearly stunned by the announcement. Maybe even disappointed. He almost felt pity for the guy. Almost.

  “Nice to meet you, Brad,” he said, hoping his sarcasm sounded genuine.

  “Uh, yes. Well, congratulations.” Brad said, his wishes insincere.

  “It’ll be official when I get a ring on her finger, and you came highly recommended.”

  Brad looked at Sam, and she smiled back at him uncomfortably. Interesting, Max thought. Then Brad moved toward a display case.

  “We have a great selection.”

  “Actually, I have some stones of my own. I hoped you could give me your professional opinion as to whether they’re worthy of my bride-to-be.”

  “Oh,” he said, disappointment in his tone.

  Max unwrapped the gems from the tissue, held them out for Brad, who placed them on top of a piece of black velvet. Under the bright lights of the store, the diamonds sparkled white fire, bright stars in the heavens.

  “Gorgeous,” Brad murmured with reverence.

  “Not as gorgeous as my Sam.”

  Brad looked at Sam, then him. Nervously, he picked up the jeweler’s loupe, and eyed the first stone. “Near-perfect, eight millimeter, two carat stone, hearts and arrows, round cut.” After placing that stone back on the velvet, Brad selected the next diamond, and gave it the same treatment, followed by the third.

  “They’re practically identical. Where did you get them?” he asked, excitement palpable in his voice.

  “Family inheritance,” Max answered.

  “And you want to use all three in an engagement setting? What about a wedding band?”

  “There are other stones, but maybe we’ll go with a plain band.”

  “More?”

  Max nodded. “What do you want, Sam?”

  Samantha startled. She had listened to the exchange, and watched, but she let him take the lead. Then he tugged her into his arms, and planted a sweet kiss on her lips.

  “Nothing is too extravagant for the love of my life,” Max announced to the world, making her blush. “Whatever the lady wants, the lady gets.”

  “A plain band works,” she mumbled, and Max offered her a wide grin in return.

  “What else can you tell me about the diamonds?”

  “If you really want to know more I can have one of my gemologists do a formal appraisal for you. If you haven’t had one done in a while it’s a great idea for your insurance. They can be examined and documented while they’re being set.”

  “How long before they’re ready? I can’t have Sam looking available for too long.” He winked at her, and she rolled her eyes.

  “Um, uh. For Samantha, two days. Day after tomorrow. So, let’s pick out a setting.”

  In the blink of an eye, Brad’s smooth façade slid back into place.

  Damn. Max had no idea there were so many settings to choose from. First, there was the metal selection, yellow gold, white gold, platinum. Then the number of prongs to hold the diamond in place. All of those decisions led up to the actual design, which presented them with even more options. Were they going to have matching bands? Did they want surrounding diamonds? Would he use his own stones for that kind of setting? What cut would those be?
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br />   Selecting an engagement ring was more work and pain than hand-to-hand combat, but they had to make it look real. Then, just when he thought he would run out of steam, Max saw it. The perfect engagement setting.

  “That one,” he pointed, a note of excitement creeping into his voice, anticipation gliding up his spine.

  Brad handed it to him. The band of white gold set with pave diamonds into the shape of a flower in between each solitaire. It gave the illusion of being delicate, yet strong. Just like Sam.

  “It’s almost as stunning as you,” he murmured, and held it up for her approval.

  “Beautiful,” Sam answered, awed at the intensity in Max’s gaze.

  He kissed her. Not a polite, public kiss, but a back bending, heart-stopping, lip lock. When the embrace ended, Sam flushed. She wasn’t embarrassed by the show of affection. No, her cheeks heated as the sudden realization of her love for Max flooded her. No, that was impossible. It was the situation they had been thrown in together, nothing more.

  A throat cleared, and Sam pulled her gaze from Max’s, only to find Brad staring. “I guess we’ll take that one,” she told Brad, breathless.

  “Two days, correct?” Max confirmed.

  “No problem. You staying at your dad’s?”

  Still recovering from the kiss, Sam managed to nod.

  TWENTY

  Sam took a bite of the burger they picked up on the way back to her father’s house. While she booted up and waited for the computer to come to life, Max read about how to use a jeweler’s loupe.

  “How hard could it be?” She smiled as she reached for a fry.

  Max dropped the instruction booklet to the table, and glared. She laughed, held her hands up in surrender. “Just kidding.”

  His gaze narrowed. “So,” he drawled, exaggerating the length of the word. “Tell me about Brad.”

  Surprised, she sputtered on the bite of burger. “What?”

  “Come on, Sam. It was obvious. The guy had the hots for you. Mr. Smooth practically choked on his well wishes.”

  She rolled her eyes, and shifted uncomfortably. Of course Max noticed the interplay between her and Brad. She shrugged. “You’re imagining things.”

  “What’s the deal? Were you guys hot and heavy?”

  “No!” she exclaimed. The only relationship she would classify as hot and heavy was the one between her and the sexy stud grilling her right now.

  “Did you break his heart?”

  “You ask too many questions. I’ve known Brad since we were kids.”

  After a few bites, Max leaned across the table. “There’s more to it than that. Admit it. You were more than friends.”

  Sam released a sigh. “We dated for a short time in high school. He wanted more. I didn’t.”

  “Hmm.”

  He leaned back, rubbed his chin, and lifted a brow, his gaze boring into her soul. He made a very effective interrogator. One look from his intense piercing eyes and anyone would admit to being a sinner even if a saint.

  “Okay, okay. He ended up being one of those ‘I’m too sexy for myself’ kind of guys.” She shivered. “Even worse, he doesn’t believe in equality, and that women should be seen, and not heard, let alone run their own business.”

  “No wonder you dropped him on his ass. Good for you.”

  Sam couldn’t help smiling at Max’s description. He had nailed Brad dead on.

  “What’s on the USB drive?”

  “Give me a minute.” The laptop came to life. She slid the drive into the USB slot and waited for the computer to recognize it. When it finally finished a directory of files displayed. Only one file existed, named ‘e6’.

  When Sam double-clicked the file, a password box popped up. “Shoot.”

  Max glanced up. “What?”

  “It’s password protected.”

  “It’s your father’s. You should be able to guess what he would use to protect something.”

  “Besides a gun?” she retorted, and stuck her tongue out at him. Max was right. Again. She tried her mother’s name, her name, her nickname, their birthdates, and Betty’s name. Nothing. At every attempt, the damn computer mocked her, beeping its annoying ‘ehhhh’. Frustrated, she ran her fingers through her hair, and tugged at the ends.

  “Come on. You can do this,” she murmured encouragement to herself.

  Across the table, Max leaned back in his chair, and watched Samantha. Her facial expressions went from hopeful to excited to defeated. When she talked to herself, then scolded the computer for not cooperating, he chuckled.

  Oops. At his laughter, Sam shot him the evil eye.

  He cleared his throat. “What have you tried so far?”

  From beneath wispy bangs, she peered up at him, her gaze hard and searching. Then she told him.

  “Those are too obvious.”

  Instead of a rejoinder, Sam’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits, and her hand fisted.

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Think about it. Anyone who knows him, hell, ten minutes after meeting him would be able to deduce those. If his intent was security and not just inconvenience, he wouldn’t use anything so simple that a hacker could get in a handful of tries.”

  She frowned, and for a long moment, she contemplated his guidance. Then she jumped in her seat with excitement.

  “Yes!” Sam exclaimed in victory.

  Two seconds later, she slammed her hand on the table. “Shit!”

  “What? I thought you figured out the password?”

  She eyed him over the screen of the laptop. “I did, but it’s encrypted. We need a key to read it.” Head tipped back, she blew out a frustrated breath, ran her fingers through her hair. “I can’t believe my father even knew how to encrypt a file. Why leave it without giving a hint as to how to get into it? Right now the only thing the USB stick is good for is plugging a hole.”

  Max smirked at her, then got up, came around to her, and put his warm hands on her shoulders. The gesture was sweet, yet discomforting in its unfamiliarity.

  “You need to take a break,” he told her as he kneaded her shoulders.

  “I can’t. We can’t.” She bent forward giving Max’s fingers access to more of her back. “Mmm.”

  “I know someone who might be able to help us. She’s a computer genius.”

  She? She who? Another girlfriend?

  “Relax.” Max dug his thumbs deeper into her stiffened muscles. “Ruby’s fiancé is my boss, and he would shoot me if I even looked at her like a horny schoolboy. Not to mention Ruby would kick my ass herself. Anyway, a few months ago she helped catch a money-launderer with her computer wizardry. She went undercover, figured out how to decrypt some email messages, and not only caught the thieves, but also caught the man who tried to kill her fiancé, my boss. This should be a cake walk for her.”

  “If you’re no longer FBI how do you have access to people with that kind of talent? And undercover work?”

  “Trust me,” he said, kissing the top of her head, patting her shoulders. “I’ll make a call.”

  Trust him. How was she supposed to trust him when he left the room to make a call on his cell? Why didn’t he just tell her who he worked for? Maybe if he was more open…

  The phone rang. Sam shook her head. Her father’s phone was ringing. Should she answer it? Let the machine pick it up?

  With nervous fingers, she lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Annie?”

  “Dad!”

  Shocked, Sam sat on the barstool, her head in hand, and her heart in her throat. The voice was weak and slurred, but she would know her father’s voice anywhere. “Dad, are you okay?” Her hands trembled, and she closed her eyes in relief. Her father was alive. “Where are you?”

  “Safe.”

  Safe? “Where?” She couldn’t sit still. She paced. “Dad, I’ve been so worried. Where are you? I’ll come get you?”

  “No.”

  Sam lifted the handset from her ear, and stared at it. She could not believe what she hear
d. What did he mean?

  “What? Why? Damn it, Dad, someone shot at me, shot Max. We need you, need your help. What the hell is going on?”

  “Go. Not safe,” he mumbled.

  Were his captors listening to the call? No, no. What if he had escaped and was calling from a phone booth? Sam squeezed her eyes and prayed someone would find him and get him to a hospital. Could he be in a hospital? Oh, jeez, her mind raced like a gerbil wheel, and she didn’t know how to turn it off.

  “Dad, Dad, please,” she begged. “Where are you? I know about the diamonds. What should I do? Who was behind this? Someone kidnapped Max’s brother. Who?”

  “Trust no one.”

  “Who is this?” Max growled, grabbing the phone from her hand.

  When he slammed the receiver into place, and turned, the eyes of a wolf stared back at her. Dark, piercing, and cold.

  “Who was that?” he demanded.

  Sam gnawed her bottom lip. Her father told her to trust no one. Did that include Max? Nerves and guilt knotted her stomach. Should she tell Max her father was the caller? She trusted him. Didn’t she?

  “Sam.”

  “Huh?” she responded absently.

  “Who were you talking with? Did they threaten you?”

  Why had her father called his own house? Was he looking for her? Wouldn’t he call her house? What if he had been and she never even checked her voicemail. How stupid could she be? What if he told her everything and it was all on her voicemail?

  “Get out of my way, Max. I’ve got to call home,” Sam ordered, frantic to check her messages.

  He blocked her way. “Not until you tell me what’s happened. Who was on the phone?”

  She shoved the immovable wall. “Damn you, Max. Move!”

  “Sam, talk to me.”

  Max’s soft voice and soothing touch broke through her desperation. When she looked up from his feet to his face, her heart stopped then restarted again. He didn’t ask her what was going on because he didn’t trust her, he asked because he cared. The concern she saw in his golden-brown eyes was her undoing.

  Grateful for the man standing in front of her, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her head against the warmth and strength of his chest, and whispered what he wanted to know. “My father. It was my father on the phone.”