by Elle James
Brewer lay on the ground beside a marble bench.
Red flushed over Dix’s eyes and she barreled toward the big man.
Before she reached him something caught her ankle and sent her flying forward. She hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath out of her. Then someone landed on her back, pinning her to the ground. A cloth covered her mouth and nose. When she tried to breathe in, she smelled something sweet with a hint of a chemical scent. Then the fog from the bay crept over her vision and the daylight blinked out.
* * *
Andrew hurried into the house and went straight to the study his grandfather had always used. The study he used now as his office since taking up residence at Cape Churn. He’d been through every drawer and cabinet, familiarizing himself with the paperwork his grandfather had felt important enough to keep.
He went through all of them again, moving swiftly, not really expecting to find the journal Mr. Giddings had mentioned.
When he came up empty-handed, he sat in the big leather chair and stared at the room, wondering if there were any hidden doors, shelves or boxes in the room. He knew about the wall safe behind the portrait of Leigha, but there had to be more. And it had to be here. His grandfather had loved this room and spent hours working or reading there.
Andrew heard the sound of Brewer barking. He started to get up, but the dog stopped. He was probably playing catch with Leigha.
He tapped his fingers on the desktop.
Think.
Where would his grandfather have hidden a journal?
The more he tapped, the more he realized the sound was hollow in a place that shouldn’t sound hollow. He’d always assumed his grandfather’s desk was solid mahogany. But right in the middle where he was tapping his fingers, he heard a hollow sound.
He curled his fingers into a fist and knocked on the desktop in several places, always coming back to the center where it sounded different.
Andrew got down on his knees and looked beneath the desktop. It was a good three inches thick in the middle, much too thick. If it were solid, it would make a dull thump when he knocked. He felt around the underside of the desk but couldn’t find a lever or switch. He opened the drawer on the right and emptied it of the papers and documents. Then he stuck his hand inside a drawer and felt the underside of the desk. Nothing. He repeated the same technique on the left-hand drawer. Just when he was about to give up, his finger touched what felt like a rounded wooden dowel. He pushed it. Something clicked and a shallow drawer slid out of the middle of the desk. In it was a small leather-bound journal.
Andrew’s pulse picked up as his fingers curled around the leather and he lifted the book out of the velvet-lined drawer. He opened it to the first page and read.
To my dear Rowena,
You will always hold my heart in your hands. Just because you are gone doesn’t mean we’ll never see each other again. Our souls are destined to spend eternity together. Until then, you have all of my love. Thomas
Flipping through the pages, Andrew shook his head. This was it, the truth about his heritage, all neatly handwritten and documented for future generations of Stratfords to read and know.
“Dix?” Andrew clutched the book in his hand and leaped to his feet. “Dix!” he shouted, running for the door. He couldn’t wait to show her what he’d found. This could be what his attackers were after. It spelled out everything.
Andrew raced out the front door.
Dix, Leigha and Brewer weren’t there. Then he remembered hearing the sound of Brewer’s barking at the back of the house. Holding tightly to the book, Andrew ran around the side of the house and worked his way through the garden maze.
“Dix! Leigha! Brewer!” he yelled.
No response.
Had he missed them? When he went out the front door, had they come in through the back door?
He shook his head. Assuming Mrs. Purdy had locked up before she left, the only door unlocked was the front door, and they hadn’t come through from that direction.
“Dix! Leigha!”
A soft woof sounded from the other side of a bank of rosebushes.
Andrew tiptoed into his grandmother’s rose garden, crouching low, prepared to react should someone try to hit him again in the back of the head.
Nobody jumped out. Nothing moved but a black thumping tail sticking out from under a rosebush.
Checking the area carefully, Andrew didn’t kneel down until he was certain nobody else was there. Then he reached beneath the rosebush, the backs of his hands scraped by thorns, and eased Brewer into the open.
The dog lay on his side, his tail twitching, but he didn’t get up.
“Where’s Leigha, Brewer?” he asked softly.
Brewer lifted his head and tried to get up, but he fell back. He tried again and this time rolled onto his side. He whined softly and shook his head. Then he lurched to his feet and staggered a few steps.
“That’s right, boy. Find Leigha.”
Brewer limped a little, fell, got up and limped some more, heading through the garden to the west end of the house.
Andrew knew he couldn’t risk going after Dix and Leigha without help. If someone had snatched them, he’d need backup.
He unlocked the door leading into the kitchen, grabbed the phone and entered Tazer’s number.
“Yeah?”
“Tazer, this is Andrew Stratford. Dix and Leigha are missing. I think they’re in trouble.”
“Where are you?”
“At Stratford House. They were playing outside. Then they were gone.”
“On our way. Wait for us to get there. We don’t know what you might be up against.”
“Can’t wait. Just get here.” He dropped the phone and raced after Brewer, who’d continued through the garden.
If Andrew had waited for the firemen to save Leigha, she would be dead. His instinct had been right to rush into the blaze. He might not be facing an inferno this time, but there were a number of other hazards inherent in living where he was with the cliffs, caves and sea nearby.
He prayed Brewer could track Leigha and find the two women before whoever took them harmed them. He shoved the journal into his back pocket. If he had to, he’d use it in trade for the lives of the two people he cared for.
Inside the journal, his grandfather had confirmed the identity of Rowena Mason’s parents. Margaret and Percival Bennet Mason were, in fact, Peg and Percy Malone, the infamous rumrunners who’d turned the tables on San Francisco big shot Willard Jameson, who’d been in cahoots with the law, stolen their contraband and sold it for pure profit.
The Malones had taken a significant haul when they’d robbed the jewelry store. Not only had they gotten away with thousands of dollars’ worth of diamonds and precious gems, they’d taken Jameson’s yacht since their boat had been confiscated.
The journal also contained detailed drawings of the locations of several stashes of the jewels from the heist.
Andrew didn’t care what happened to the jewels. He’d trade all of them and everything he owned to get Leigha and Dix back alive.
He hurried after the dog, his only hope to find them, praying Leigha’s imaginary friend would look out for them until Andrew could get there.
Chapter 19
A high-pitched shriek pulled Dix out of the gray fog swirling around her head. She lay against something hard and cool and, despite the clearing of the fog, she couldn’t see much. Darkness surrounded her.
When Dix tried to sit up, she couldn’t balance. Her hands were securely tied behind her back and rope bound her ankles.
“I told you—I’m not supposed to show anyone where I found those necklaces. Bennet made me promise. And give them back! They’re mine.”
Dix lay ten feet away from where the big man she recognized as Dwayne Cla
yton held Leigha trapped between his hands.
“If you don’t want anything to happen to your friend over there, you’ll tell us where you found this.” The man standing in front of Leigha held out what Dix suspected was a diamond necklace.
As all gazes turned toward her, Dix closed her eyes and pretended to still be unconscious. She peered at the trio through her lashes, tamping down the rising panic of being held captive.
When the man across from Dwayne looked her way, she recognized him as the man who’d introduced himself to them at the Seaside Café. Nelson Clayton, Andrew’s nearest neighbor.
Based on the darkness and cool, solid ground beneath her, Dix guessed they were in a cave. Around her were old wooden barrels with metal stays and what looked like the makings of an old still.
If she could get close enough to one of the metal stays, she might be able to rub against the jagged metal and cut the ropes tied around her wrists.
When the men redirected their gazes to Leigha, Dix inched her body toward the piles of metal and wood. Just a few inches was all she needed.
“You got these jewels from somewhere in this cave, didn’t you? Who showed you where it was?”
Leigha tilted her chin and glared at Nelson. “Bennet told me. He’s my friend.”
“Where is this Bennet? Maybe we should ask him where you found the jewels.”
She smiled. “Bennet’s here in this cave. But he’s not telling you anything.”
Both men glanced around as if expecting someone to appear out of the darkness. When no one did, Dwayne frowned, twisted his fist in Leigha’s hair and pulled.
Leigha stood on her toes, her face tensing. But she didn’t cry.
Dix was so proud of her. She was probably scared and in pain, but she refused to cry. Dix’s fists clenched. When she got loose, she’d take those two down for picking on a little girl.
She felt around behind her for the edge of a rusty stay. Once she found one, she sawed her arms back and forth, pressing down as hard as she could to cut through the rope chafing her wrists.
Every time Leigha or the men said something, Dix sawed hard at her bindings. When they were quiet, she grew still. But progress was slow and the men were getting impatient with the child.
Finally some of the strands snapped and the ropes loosened around her. More sawing took her the rest of the way through the rope and it broke free. Easing her legs up close to her hands, she untied the bindings around her ankles.
The men were so convinced Dix was out cold, they were fully focused on Leigha and the possibility of finding the jewels.
Dix waited to choose the best moment to surprise her captors.
Dwayne raised his hand, as if to strike Leigha.
That was when Dix came unglued. The mama bear came out in her. She rolled to her feet and charged Dwayne like she was on the defensive line of a football team zeroed in on the guy carrying the ball.
Dix hit Dwayne in the side, sending him staggering across the uneven cave floor. He dragged Leigha with him for a few steps before he let go, his arms flying out for balance. He teetered a moment and then crashed like a felled tree.
Leigha fell to the ground and lay for a moment, barely moving. Then she rolled to her hands and knees.
“Run, Leigha!” Dix shouted.
The little girl darted into the darkness, disappearing into a tunnel.
Dwayne roared and scrambled to his feet.
Dix was ready. The man had at least one hundred pounds on her. That didn’t faze Dix. She went after him, landing a side kick in his gut.
The man barely doubled over before he came at her again.
Dix threw another side kick, hitting him in the gut again.
He snagged her angle and twisted, sending her flying to the floor. She jerked her foot free of his grasp and swept his legs out from under him.
Once again, Dwayne went down hard. He rolled to his side and started to get up.
Dix was on him before he could straighten, knocking him off his hands and knees. He splayed across the ground, his forehead bouncing off the stone cave floor. He lay dazed for a moment.
Seizing her opportunity, Dix grabbed his arm, shoved it up between his shoulder blades and straddled his back, pinning him to the ground.
“I think we’ve had just about enough of this,” a voice said.
The cool, hard shaft of a gun barrel pressed to Dix’s temple. She froze but didn’t ease the pressure on the man’s arm.
“Get off him,” the older Clayton demanded. “Now! Or I’ll shoot.”
Dix shook her head. “I guess you’re gonna have to shoot me. You two have caused enough trouble. I’m not letting you hurt anyone anymore.”
“You’re not in a position to make that happen. The only position you’re in at this time is your last position.”
The explosion of gunfire echoed through the cavern.
Dix flinched and held her breath, waiting for the stabbing pain of the bullet to tear through her flesh.
Nelson Clayton staggered backward. The gun slipped from his fingers and dropped to the hard surface. Nelson crumpled beside it.
Distracted by Nelson, Dix loosened her hold.
The man beneath her bucked and rolled, throwing her off.
Dwayne grabbed for the gun Nelson had dropped, rolled to his back and aimed at the man diving toward him.
“Look out!” Dix yelled. She kicked out, catching Dwayne’s hand a second after he pulled the trigger. The gun went off and then jerked from his hand, flying across the cave floor.
Still lying on the ground, Dix kicked again, catching Dwayne in the face. The crunch of bone and cartilage meant she’d hit her mark.
The big man slapped a hand to his eye as his nose spurted blood. He rolled to the side, screaming like a girl, and then passed out.
Dix leaped to her feet, secured the gun and ran to where Andrew lay on the ground, his hand pressed to his side. “You’re hit!” she exclaimed.
“Either that or it’s raining blood in here.” He sat up and winced, pressing a hand on his wound. “Where’s Leigha?”
“I don’t know. When she got loose, she ran.”
Andrew pushed to his feet. “We have to find her.”
“You shouldn’t be on your feet. Let me at least stop the flow of blood before you run any sprints.”
“Leigha!” he shouted.
“How did you know we’d be here?” Dix pulled off her T-shirt, thankful she’d worn a sports bra that morning. With quick, efficient moves, she tore the shirt in two pieces and folded one.
“Brewer led me here.” He glanced around. “Where’d he go?”
“Move your hand,” Dix commanded.
“Bossy thing, aren’t you?”
“When I have to be.” She pressed the wad of cloth to the wound and placed his hand on top to hold it while she tore the rest of the shirt into a long strip. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she pulled the strip of cloth around him and tied it in a tight knot over the cloth pad. “That will have to do until we get you to the hospital.”
“Leigha!” Andrew shouted again.
Dix turned in the direction the little girl had disappeared. “Leigha, where are you?”
“I’m here,” she responded, edging out of a dark tunnel, struggling to carry a wooden box too big for one little girl to handle.
Brewer limped alongside her.
“Sweetheart, what have you got?” Dix started toward her.
Tears hovered on the child’s eyelashes. “The treasure. I was going to give it to the men so that you and Daddy wouldn’t get hurt.” She stared at the blood on her father’s shirt. “I didn’t want my daddy to die.” She sniffed. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek.
A flash of movement alert
ed Dix.
Dwayne rolled across the floor, grabbed Leigha’s leg and jerked her hard.
Before she fell, Leigha threw the wooden box at the man’s head. Once on the ground, she kicked him in his swollen eye and again in the face, hitting his broken nose.
Dwayne bunched his fist and pulled his hand back, ready to throw a punch.
Dix ran at him and kicked his arm so hard, the bone snapped. With so much forward momentum driving her forward, she tripped over the man and landed on her knees on the other side.
Dwayne roared and swung his good arm at Dix.
Andrew grabbed his wrist and twisted his thumb until he cried out. Then he pulled the handgun from his waistband and pointed it at the man. “Move a muscle and I won’t hesitate to end it now.”
Dwayne lay still.
Dix scrambled to her feet and away from Dwayne. She scooped Leigha up into her arms and hugged the child close. “You’ll be okay.”
“And Daddy?” she asked, her gaze going to her father. “He isn’t going to die?”
Andrew shook his head, his focus on the man lying at his feet. “I’m going to be around long enough to embarrass you as a teenager. I love you, baby.”
Leigha cupped Dix’s face in both of her little palms, forcing her to look the child square in the eye. “Are you going to stay with us?”
Those blue eyes so much like her father’s stared straight through her, pulling at her heartstrings so hard, Dix could barely breathe. “We’ll see, sweetie. We’ll see.” She couldn’t promise that she would stay. Too many variables were still up in the air. And now that they’d found the people responsible for the attacks, her services were no longer needed.
Dix’s eyes stung and she fought to keep the tears from falling. Rangers and MMA fighters didn’t cry.
But mommies of darling little girls did. At that moment she wanted to be Leigha’s mother more than she had ever imagined possible. She didn’t even want to think about how much she wanted to be with Leigha’s father. A man who’d been through so much, saved his daughter not once but twice and now had saved her... Her heart swelled inside her chest, hurting so much she thought she might be dying.
