The Final Secret

by Cassie Miles

  “The opposite,” Noah said. “I’m suggesting that you might have been blackmailed. You were the victim.”

  “In the first place, I’ve done nothing wrong. My life is an open book.” He flashed his whitened smile. “If Captain Slocum had tried to blackmail me, don’t you think I would have reported him to the authorities? I’m running for senator. I can’t afford some ridiculous blackmail threat.”

  “I understand,” Noah said.

  Still smiling, Mitch Murano gestured for them to follow him for a grand tour of the Institute. For a guy who was supposed to be intuitive, he wasn’t really on his toes. When he said he couldn’t afford to be blackmailed, he’d given himself a motive for murder.

  As soon as they got the chance, he and Gennie needed to search through the evidence that Slocum had stored on Loretta’s cell phone.

  * * *

  STANDING IN THE open cupola atop the stone tower at the north end of the lodge, Gennie thought of the minarets in Kabul. That city was half a world away from the Rocky Mountains, but her memories brought Afghanistan close. Remembered echoes from the minaret—the call to prayer—reverberated inside her head. Her nose itched with the remembered smell of the dirt and the gunpowder that always seemed to hang in the air. In that rugged terrain, her life had been forever altered. Central to that change was Kenneth Warrick.

  She was anxious to confront him and find out how he was involved in the murder. If that happened, if they met, she would not fail. During the investigation three years ago, he’d talked his way out of trouble. Not this time.

  Murano lightly touched her shoulder. “In a place of such beauty, meditation becomes second nature.”

  “It’s very peaceful,” she said, though she wasn’t feeling serene at all.

  “Rainclouds are coming in from the north,” Noah said. He’d taken off his sports jacket and rolled up the sleeves on his oxford blue shirt. A crisp breeze ruffled the light brown hair on his forearms. “April showers, right?”

  “We need the moisture,” Murano said, echoing the typical refrain from Coloradoans. “It’s good as long as it doesn’t turn into flash floods.”

  Listening to a weather report wasn’t getting her any closer to her goal. She had to find a way to escape from these two men without being obvious. Murano had insisted on shepherding them around.

  Noah commented, “The tower seems older than the rest of the lodge.”

  “Good observation. The original structure was built in 1902 by a family of Scottish ranchers. In 1989, a local developer bought the property and started renovations. I’ve owned the Institute since I was forty, almost fourteen years ago. When I bought it, I thought it would be a grand legacy.”

  “I didn’t know you had children,” she said.

  “I don’t,” he said. “The world is my legacy.”

  She scanned from left to right—from the hot spring pool to the small private cabins to the trailheads for hiking excursions. Employees in dark blue polo shirts bustled from one spot to another. The few patrons who weren’t attending the astrophysics lecture dressed in loose linen shirts like Murano. They meandered around the grounds with less sense of purpose. She studied each person, looking for Warrick.

  “Deeper in the forest,” he said, “there are mini-villages of tipis and sweat lodges.”

  She pointed. “Is that a newly planted vegetable garden?”

  “Good eye, Gennie. That small plot is right outside our restaurant and dining hall. As I’m sure you know, our arid climate and rocky soil in the mountains are limitations, but my chef is determined to grow our own produce. He likes to experiment.”

  Noah asked, “How much do you know about plants?”

  “Not as much as I’d like,” Murano responded.

  “Gennie is kind of an expert on growing herbs and vegetables in difficult climates, like Afghanistan. Maybe she could give your chef a few pointers.”

  Immediately, she perked up. Noah was handing her an excuse to break away from them and find Warrick. She snatched the opportunity. “I’d love to talk to your gardeners.”

  “Of course,” Murano said.

  Before he could change his mind, Noah said, “If you don’t mind, I’d very much like to see your collection of glass. Gennie, why don’t you check out the garden by yourself?”

  Behind Murano’s back, he mouthed the words, “Be careful.”

  She bobbed her head and looked away, surprised by the sudden warmth that arose inside her. Noah’s concern for her safety was unnecessary but touching. For half a second, she wished she was the type of woman who needed his protection—a fairy princess who could swoon into his muscular arms. Instead, she was capable of slaying her own dragons.

  “We’ll meet on the veranda,” she said, “in a half hour or forty-five minutes.”

  She was off, dashing down the enclosed staircase rather than using the slow elevator that must have been installed when the lodge was built in 1902. She needed to move, to get her blood circulating. Since it was close to dinnertime and the kitchen staff would be busy, she figured that she didn’t need to put in an appearance at the kitchen. Her excuse would be that she didn’t want to interrupt.

  When she reached the lower level, she paused to insert her earbud and activate her microphone so that she could communicate with Noah. She whispered into the mic, “If you can hear me, ask Murano when the lecture will be over.”

  Through her earbud, she heard him pose the question. Noah repeated Murano’s answer. The lecture would be over in twenty minutes. She didn’t have much time to make contact with Warrick before the patrons of MIME swarmed the grounds.

  She pushed open a heavy wooden door and stepped outside. If Warrick was here, she figured that he’d be holed up inside the lodge, peering out through a window and staying hidden from the FBI and local law enforcement. The best way to lure him out was to show herself and let him know she was alone. On a paved pathway behind the lodge, she walked toward the pool. Waving at the lodge was probably too aggressive, but she stared at each floor and each window.

  Concentrating, she sent a mental message. Come out, come out, wherever you are. If he was here, he’d approach her. Warrick was egotistical enough to believe that she’d forgiven him and was desperate to see him after catching a glimpse at the fund-raiser.

  Too quickly, she reached the edge of the pool. The minutes were slipping away. A small tasteful sign advised that swimming was prohibited when there was no lifeguard on duty, but she still found it odd that there was no one in the water. This was, by far, the most appealing feature of MIME, but nobody was here. Come on, Warrick, find me. I’m waiting.

  A gentle breeze twirled the rising steam in a delicate pirouette across the surface of the water. She knelt on the rugged stones at the edge, peeled off her jacket and leaned down to trail her hand and arm in the water. Warm as a bathtub, the liquid soothed her so much that she almost forgot her mission. A low groan pushed through her lips.

  “I remember that sound. You used to moan like that in bed.”

  She sprang to her feet, drew her Beretta and aimed the barrel at Kenneth Warrick’s gut. “Where did you come from?”

  “I’ve been keeping tabs on you since you got here.” He showed her his hands. “I’m unarmed. You can put that gun away.”

  Her trigger finger twitched. She thought of the men and the woman who had been killed in the explosion. Their deaths weren’t fair. She remembered her grief, her anguish and the difficult years of therapy she’d undergone, never knowing if she’d regain her physical strength.

  Kenneth Warrick deserved to suffer. But that wasn’t her decision to make.

  Reluctantly, she holstered her weapon.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Through the earbud, she heard Noah’s voice. “Need some help?”

  She gave him an indirect answer while staring at Warrick. “There was a time, Kenneth Warrick
, when I would have been afraid to meet you alone. But not anymore—you don’t scare me.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “I’m a little bit surprised to see you. After everything went down at the Haymarket mansion, I figured you’d be in a hurry to crawl back into your rat hole. You know, the place where you’ve been hiding since you made too many enemies in Afghanistan to stay there.”

  “What makes you think I have enemies?” He strutted to an outcropping of rocks at the edge of the pool and struck a pose. “I have a fine lifestyle, better than yours. I don’t have to stay at my parents’ house.”

  “But you live under an alias, and you work as a part-time security guard. Your personal info doesn’t show an address, just a box number. Sleeping in your car?” Her verbal jabs were partly to provoke him into revealing something useful and partly because she hated this guy with an enduring rage. “What’s your latest scam, Warrick?”

  “No time for a chat.” He hopped down the rock and strolled along the path beside the pool and headed toward the trees. “Come with me.”

  She slipped into her jacket. “If you’re trying to get me alone in the forest, forget it.”

  He halted, pivoted and faced her. Though she despised him, she had to admit that Warrick was good-looking in a rough, untamed way. A few inches above average height, he was long-legged and lean—the type of guy who looked good on a Harley. His dyed-blond hair, which was growing out at the roots, hung loose to his shoulders, and his scruffy facial hair was on the verge of becoming a beard. The small scar on his left eyebrow drew attention to his intense blue eyes, which had always been his best feature.

  He squinted at her. “You want the truth, Gennie?”

  “That’d be a nice change.”

  He stretched his long arm and pointed into the forest. “I want you to walk with me in that direction because I have a dirt bike stashed on that hill. When I’m done talking to you, I’m going to ride away from here and never come back to Colorado.”

  “Unless you’re on trial for murder,” she said.

  “I didn’t kill the little weasel.”

  “A dirt bike,” she muttered. “You really enjoy making a dramatic getaway. I’m guessing that you were the person who escaped from the library on horseback.”

  “Cool, huh?”

  A curse from Noah came through her earbud. Clearly, he wasn’t impressed with Warrick’s idea of cleverness. “Why?” she asked.

  “A diversion,” he said, “and it worked. You and Noah chased after me, and the murderer slipped away in the darkness, easy-peasy.”

  “You’re not the killer?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Who’s your partner?” she demanded.

  “As if I’m going to tell you.”

  “If you don’t, the feds will blame you. You’ll be arrested. You’ll take the fall.”

  “No way. I’ll be long gone. I owed the killer a debt. Now, we’re square and I don’t plan on any more reunions. I’ve got my own life to live, and I hear Costa Rica is nice in the springtime.” He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her breasts. “You’ve still got a tight little body, Gennie. Maybe we could get something going, again. You could pay me a visit.”

  “Sure thing, leave me your address.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m no fool. I can’t trust you with my personal info. When I want to see you, I’ll sweep you up and carry you away.”

  As they neared the edge of the forest, she kept her hand on the butt of her Beretta. If he made a threatening move, she wouldn’t hesitate to shoot him. Or would she? “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “When we were together, I didn’t treat you right.”

  Huge understatement! “Go on.”

  “I always felt bad about the way we broke up. When I found out that you’d be at the fund-raiser, I sent that message with the flowers. I tried to warn you about the danger.”

  She didn’t understand. “Was I in danger?”

  “Slocum was always the target, but I didn’t want to take a chance that you’d get injured in the crossfire. You should have taken the warning and gone home.”

  When would he understand that she would never turn tail and run? He couldn’t scare her with bouquets of poisonous flowers and veiled threats. And he definitely couldn’t tell her when to stay and when to go. Had she actually shed tears when their relationship ended? What had she been thinking? “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Shoot.”

  “Answer with the first word that pops into your head.” She paused, wanting to remember Murano’s words correctly. “What is the single most important factor in a relationship?”

  “That’s easy,” he said, “money.”

  She wondered how Murano would analyze that response. Did Warrick’s callous greed arise from the scumbag chakra? She was done playing around with this guy. She wanted to squeeze out the last bit of information and take him into custody. He had just admitted to her that he knew the identity of the murderer. He had to face interrogation from the FBI. “When you showed yourself in the ballroom, was that also a warning?”

  “That wasn’t about you. There was someone else at the party I needed to contact.”

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “No names, Gennie.”

  “Who are you working for?” she asked. “Murano signs your paychecks. Is he involved in the murder?”

  “Those paychecks are a pittance, nothing to get excited about.” He stepped off the path as they neared the forest. “I do have another warning. This isn’t over. Your friend is in danger.”

  “Ruby?”

  “The general’s wife? I don’t know anything about her.”

  But he’d known enough to seduce her and draw her into an illicit kiss. The casual way he dismissed her illustrated his total lack of empathy. Poor Ruby was worried to death that her marriage was in jeopardy, and Warrick acted like he barely knew her. “You’re an ass.”

  “Don’t you want to know about your friend?”

  “Are you talking about Loretta Slocum?” Gennie wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that the people who killed the blackmailer were ready to go after Loretta and grab the evidence.

  “I wasn’t thinking of Loretta,” he said. “But she’s in danger as long as she has those documents in her possession.”

  Ironically, the cell phone was in Gennie’s shoulder bag. “If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

  “Your boyfriend, Noah Sheridan, is in trouble.”

  Through the earbud, she heard Noah saying goodbye to Murano. To her, he said, “Don’t let him leave.”

  Gennie stalled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Noah is my boss, not my boyfriend. There’s nothing between us.”

  “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” Still facing her, he walked backward up the hill. “I’ve been watching the two of you ever since you got to the Institute, and he looks at you like an alcoholic drools over a bottle of whiskey. And you’re just as bad—all googly-eyed and twitchy.”

  “Twitchy?”

  “You’re wiggling your ass, pushing out your boobs.”

  “And you’re disgusting.” She didn’t want him to get any farther away from her. The forest was thick with lots of boulders where he could hide. “Would you please stand still? Tell me why you think Noah is in trouble?”

  “It wasn’t a coincidence that he came into the murder room and nearly got arrested. Somebody is out to get him.” He pursed his lips and blew her a kiss. “Have a nice life, sweetheart. I gave you something to work with, something you wanted. That’s the last thing you’re going to get from me.”

  “I don’t forgive you.”

  “And I don’t give a damn.”

  “You were involved in the explosion that killed my friends and nearly disabled me.”


  “I knew the warlord, and I’d spoken to him. But nobody was supposed to get hurt. You can believe me or not.” He took another step away from her.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Ask your boyfriend.”

  He pointed. She looked over her shoulder and saw Noah sprinting toward them on the path behind the lodge. He was over a hundred yards away. Through the earbud, she heard him breathing hard and telling her to stop Warrick.

  When she whipped around, she yanked her Beretta from the holster, but she wasn’t fast enough. He had the drop on her with Glocks in both hands. “Don’t move, Gennie.” As he spoke, he continued to walk backward toward the forest.

  “You don’t want to shoot me,” she said.

  “That’s right, I don’t. You know that about me. I never want to hurt anybody, not here or in Afghanistan, and I sure as hell didn’t kill Slocum.”

  “But you know who did.” She took a step toward him. In her ear, she heard Noah panting for breath. He had to be close. “Come with me and talk to the police.”

  “Not today, sweetheart.”

  He dove to his right and ducked behind a boulder. She raised her arm and got off two shots before he returned fire. His bullet kicked up the dirt near her feet. Maybe he didn’t want to kill her, but he didn’t seem to have a problem inflicting another wound.

  Standing in the open between the hot spring pool and the forest, she didn’t have much in the way of natural cover. Crouching behind a shrub, she fired again. A branch near her shoulder was broken by Warrick’s bullet.

  Noah crashed onto the ground and pulled her down beside him. He struggled to catch his breath. “I heard what he said. He’s got a bike hidden up there.”

  “We’ve got to stop him before he gets away.”

  “Cover me. I’m going after him.”

  Approaching a desperate man who was armed with two lethal handguns was a really bad idea, but she couldn’t think of an alternative. To stop Warrick, they had to take a risk. She braced herself. When Noah took off running toward the hill, she emptied her gun, firing in the direction she’d last seen Warrick.