“I was thinking more of your mindset.”
She took a deep breath and glanced behind them, toward the large mansion rehab center. “I came here to forget Eva-Ann and John, but I don’t want to do that anymore. Let’s go to the Recovery.”
“We can go when you’re feeling better—”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Let’s go today.”
“Evelyn, you need to focus on your recovery first. That mine isn’t going anywhere.”
“Do you honestly think I could focus on yoga or painting or talking about my feelings when I know you know about Eva-Ann? After you told me you believe me?”
She stood up. “Let’s go check me out.” Her chin lifted up a notch as determination outshone any previous hesitation. He stood up slowly, staring down at her.
“All right,” he said. He held up a finger. “But I will not let you fall back into the freedom of sleeping pills, all right? You don’t find Eva-Ann that way.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You said you had a dream right after sex?”
He nodded.
“Perhaps we should have more sex, just in case it works for me as well.”
He smirked. “Sounds like a good experimental plan.”
Chapter Eighteen
Hours passed, long scenic views of mountains, brush, and sand rushing by as Bishop drove them to the old ghost town of Byron City. The small town had changed its name once the gold strike had run its course, and the old mining settlement had been absorbed as a historic district. Evie had never been this far north in Nevada and she tried to find some type of familiarity with it. The landscape, however, had changed as the area had become cultivated. Roads had been created, buildings erected, all of it terraforming whatever memory she might have had. Even the mountain skyline that should have remained constant now jutted with cell phone towers and antennas. It wasn’t until Bishop entered the preserved mine fields that she got her first déjà vu jolt.
“The old well sat over there,” she said, pointing to the right. “At the bottom of the hill.”
Bishop parked in front of the visitor’s center and turned off the engine. “Yes,” he said, looking around. “Want to go inside?”
“Sure.” She stepped out of the car and winced as the fiery summer heat singed over her skin. It was so hot it hurt her eyes as it wicked away moisture, and she had to blink a few times to irrigate them. Even raising a hand in hopes of providing some sort of shade didn’t help.
“The hill has been smoothed out,” she observed. “Eva-Ann had to traverse that incline from sun up to sun down. It was a bitch but she had amazing leg muscles.”
Bishop grinned. “Let’s get out of the heat.”
He opened the visitor center’s door and Evie hurried into the cool interior, glad for modern air conditioning. Various historical items, like tools, bottles, and even an old heating stove that used to keep the local buildings warm, caught her attention as soon as she stepped over the threshold. The desert was hellishly hot in the summer, but it was also exceedingly cold during the winter. Knickknacks and souvenirs waited for tourists to snatch them up, and a plethora of books about Nevada’s mining history dominated one wall.
“Welcome!” greeted the curator. Evie and Bishop turned to the friendly man. “First time here?”
“Yes,” Bishop replied.
“Well, Byron City had an interesting history,” the man said. “In six months the mine produced almost eight hundred thousand dollars in gold, and the city grew almost overnight, going from about twenty men to ten thousand in a year. Everything from churches to saloons sprang up as the economy boomed. We have a small museum in the back, and through the side door we show a fifteen-minute movie that shows how Byron City rose to great prominence in the early twentieth century. It’s a nice, informative documentary that won’t bore you silly. After that, you’re more than welcome to explore the bluff, as we like to call it.”
“Thank you,” Evie said. She took hold of Bishop’s arm and walked to the museum the curator had mentioned. “We never called it the bluff.”
“Some of the residents in town did,” he murmured. “Interesting that the nickname is still in use today.”
The museum held more ancient-looking mining equipment, along with shelves of rocks and minerals dug up from around the state. Large pictures of the Byron City mines hung on the walls, reminding her of Groto’s collection, and she wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the sudden chill his name invoked.
One of the last photos depicted the bustling town below the bluff, a captured moment in time of people living their everyday lives. And right in the middle of it showed the stable where John worked the horses. And the young girl standing on the bottom rail, watching him, was Eva-Ann.
“Bishop, come here!” she said excitedly, pointing. “Look. It’s us.”
Bishop narrowed his eyes as he studied the picture. “That’s John?”
“Of course. You look just like him.”
“Are you kidding? I look nothing like that man.”
“You’re bigger. Lots more muscle. And you’re taller. I know you can’t see the face clearly, but believe me, that’s you.”
She looked up at him and he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. He took her hand and linked their fingers together as they headed to the short film which simply touched upon the basic descriptions of what it was like about mining. After it, they went outside, despite the sun beating down upon them.
Silently, they both made their way past the more prominent claims, where many still had inactive sluices hovering near the entrances. Many were open but with fences around them to keep visitors from wandering into the mine itself. The Recovery had been located toward the far end of the bluff, away from the others. As soon as she saw it, something cold gripped her core. Evie halted and wrapped her arms around her. It was still boarded up, the same barrier that Clyde Dunclyne had erected, only now the wood had aged with time and the bolts were laced with rust. The land was quiet, her breathing sounding abnormally loud in her ears.
“I remember that day,” she murmured. “When my dad, er, when Clyde sealed it off.”
“Yeah.”
Evie searched through the dreams but couldn’t remember anything past that morning. “I’m assuming, because I remember nothing else, that Eva-Ann died that day.”
“Yeah,” Bishop said again.
“Where did I … she … die?”
Bishop pointed a little further up the hill, a short distance away from The Recovery. “Over there. Monty struck her and she fell. She hit her head on a rock and the impact killed her.”
Shock tore through her body and she reached for the scar on her scalp that brought back a dark time. The hair around was shorter than the rest of her hair and right on the puckered skin a few bristly hairs had begun to sprout.
“Right where I was struck,” she whispered. “Oh my God.”
Bishop took a deep breath. “John, he uh, went a little crazy. Almost killed Monty right then and there. The men dragged him off and Monty was held accountable for his crime. He was hung a few days later.”
“Monty Finleigh was my grandfather.”
Groto’s hard voice cut through the fragile memories, causing Bishop and Evie to spin around. Bishop placed himself in front of her, and Evie clutched his waistband in fear. Groto held a gun, the barrel pointed at them.
“What are you doing here?” Bishop demanded.
Groto’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you addressing me in that tone, you son-of-a-bitch?”
“Lower the gun,” Bishop ordered. “We’re in a public place. You wouldn’t want the cops called on us, would you? That’d be awkward to explain.”
“Look around. Do you see anyone?”
Evie glanced surreptitiously, and realized he spoke the truth. They were on their own. Was she destined to die here again?
“Evelyn Duncan,” Groto murmured, jolting her.
“Don’t,” Bishop said.
Groto took a step closer and a
imed the gun directly at his forehead. Evie pulled on Bishop’s shirt, trying to get him to back down. Or at least shut up and not antagonize Groto even more. He must have understood her silent plea because he backed up a step, closer to her.
Groto gave a thin smile that bordered on a sneer. “Good boy. Maybe she can get you to fucking obey.”
“You put her on this path,” Bishop said softly.
“And you fucking chose her over me. Don’t ever forget this started that night you saw her.” Groto turned his gaze on her. “I knew you reminded me of someone. Imagine my surprise when I realized it had to do with the Recovery, the very mine my grandfather died for. The girl in the picture … was you. I don’t know how or why, but she could be your twin.”
“Your grandfather was a murderer,” she whispered.
“It all comes down to you, doesn’t it?” he asked. “All of this started the moment you showed up at one of my fights. First was taking Bishop away from me and now … my entire fucking life.”
“What do you mean?” Bishop asked.
“The Feds came to shut me down. Arrest me, can you fucking believe it? Now, I’ll take Miss Duncan with me in trade.”
“You won’t fucking touch her,” Bishop said and he took a step closer to Groto, despite the tug Evie gave to his shirt.
A large hand grabbed her upper arm, pulling her away from Bishop, and she let out a surprised scream. She recognized him as one of the bodyguards that had been around Groto the first time she’d met him. The next few seconds were a blur as Bishop turned and attacked the man. He practically flew and jumped, bringing his fist down heavily on the bodyguard’s face with a sickening crunch. As he fell, he brought Evie with him, and they impacted the ground hard. The air was knocked out of her lungs and blackness danced around the edges of her vision as she struggled to draw a breath.
Bishop gave no mercy as he jumped on top of the man, fury evident in his face as he pummeled blow after blow. Groto stepped behind Bishop and hit him across the back of the head with the butt of the gun. It didn’t knock him out, but it did cause Bishop to get off the limp body.
“You were right about Santiago,” Groto said. “He doesn’t seem able to interpret counter moves. Damn. You were the best at spotting fighting talent, you know. Much better than Mr. Masters.”
“You killed him, didn’t you?” Bishop demanded as he held the back of his head. Blood seeped between his fingers.
“Yes. Just like I had Iron Fist killed. Just like I had anyone who dared defy me or get in my way killed. This is a business and business is ruthless. I made sure no one could talk once their usefulness was exhausted. Just like you have to die, Mr. Kain. And once I exact my revenge for my grandfather, Miss Duncan will join you in the hereafter.”
Evie had managed to breathe again, but terror streaked through her because she saw the absolute lack of empathy in Groto. He was ready to kill Bishop. Was that their fate? To never be able to be together through life? Destined to always be separated by death?
She couldn’t let Bishop die. She couldn’t imagine a world without him in it. She stood up just as Groto tightened his grip on the gun and stepped in front of him, ready to use her body as a shield. Bishop grabbed her shoulders and the next instant, they were surrounded by federal agents, guns pointed at all of them. Shirts and jackets were blazoned with DEA and ATF on the chests and badges, in obvious sight.
“Toss the gun, Groto!” someone yelled. “You’re under arrest! Raise your hands and step away from the other two.”
Groto closed his eyes, as if in pain, then tossed the gun to the ground. Slowly, he raised his hands. He shot one last look of black hatred at her before he turned around to face justice.
Chapter Nineteen
Confusion swarmed her as federal agents rushed at them, placing not only Groto in handcuffs but Bishop as well. A blanket was thrown around her shoulders as a female officer led her away.
“Wait!” she cried. “Bishop! He’s innocent! Stop, let me go! Bishop!”
The woman wouldn’t let go of her and Evie found herself being led down the hill where several large vans were parked. She spotted Chris waiting, biting his nails. As soon as he saw her, relief blossomed across his face and he rushed toward her. They hugged each other tight as tears ran down her cheek.
“They took Bishop,” she said to Chris.
He wiped the tears away. “I know. It’s all right, Evie. If he cooperates, I’ll do my best to make sure they’ll cut him a deal.”
She pulled back and cocked her head. “You’ll do what? How?”
He took a deep breath. “Don’t be mad—”
“Chris, what did you do?”
“You were slipping into addiction and I knew you had to be getting it from someone in Groto’s casino. People talk, Evie. Everyone knew Groto’s true business was drug smuggling. He used the casino to launder the money as well as the tourist trade to further his investments.”
“What does that have to do with this?”
“I went to the DEA and struck a deal,” he said. “They agreed to pay for your rehab if I provided a way to get Groto. When Brogan attacked you, you managed to get his DNA under your nails, which the hospital collected. With that, they were able to pressure Brogan to give Groto up. After that, they got warrants to bug the casino and that’s when they discovered he was coming here. They managed to get his confession to you recorded. I think we won’t have to worry about Groto ever again.”
“But they arrested Bishop too.”
“Let’s hope he’ll cut a deal too.” Chris hugged her. “I’m just glad you’re all right, Evie.”
She hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Chris. Thank you for always being there for me.”
“You shouldn’t have left rehab.”
“I’m going to be fine, Chris. Eva-Ann has been laid to rest. But I have lots to tell you.”
****
The police officer opened the hotel room to them and Evie trudged inside, beyond tired. Almost twenty-four hours had passed since the whole ordeal at the Recovery had happened, and she was exhausted.
“Who knew the cure for insomnia was a federal investigation,” she murmured.
“Not even funny,” Bishop replied.
She sighed. “I know.”
The officer left them alone but she knew he’d be standing guard at the door, not only protecting them but making sure Bishop didn’t leave. He had agreed to testify against Groto but this was just the beginning of the journey.
“I’m going to take a hot shower,” she said, heading to the bathroom. Bishop came up behind her and began helping her remove her clothing, so she turned to face him and started doing the same.
They undressed each other, light touches punctuated with heated kisses as skin was revealed. There was a desperation in the movements, and she understood Bishop’s hungry need. They had no idea what tomorrow would hold. With Groto’s arrest, would the Feds want Bishop as well?
In between kisses, he maneuvered her into the shower and turned on the hot water, adjusting the knobs until the temperature wasn’t scalding. He soaped up her body, taking a long time between her thighs. One finger traced along her slit until he pushed it into her pussy. Evie gasped as he found her sweet spot and stroked it. She clung to him as her desire rose. He bent to take a nipple between his teeth and gently bit the tender bud. The slight pain spun her out of control and she came instantly. Bishop rode out her pleasure until she slumped a little, and then he withdrew, turned off the water, and scooped her up in his arms. Heedless of the water dripping off them, he hurried to the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Their gazes met and held as he fit his cock against her opening and pushed in. The air swooshed out of her lungs, and she knew, right then and there, that he was her soul mate. The missing half. Eva-Ann and John never had their lives together, but now their souls were joined once more.
Bishop had to have felt it too. Their gazes continued to hold even as their pleasure spiraled higher. This time when she came, he followed he
r almost immediately, pulling out of her body to spill his seed across her thighs. He kissed her tenderly and fell to the side, brushing the wet strands of hair from her cheek.
“I am in love with you,” he said softly.
Her eyes widened. “I’m in love with you, too.”
He smiled. “I know.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You sound a little smug about that.”
“Never,” he said, kissing her lightly on the mouth. “No matter what happens with this case, I want you by my side, Evelyn. Always.”
“And I’ll be there,” she vowed. “No matter what.”
He pulled her close and hugged her. “There was more to the research than simply finding out what happened to John and Eva-Ann, you know. I found out what happened to Clyde.”
“I would think he succumbed to the drink.”
“Actually, once Eva-Ann died, he left Nevada and moved to Colorado. He changed his name, remarried and had a son.”
“Clyde remarried? Huh. Eva-Ann told him to live a life. I guess he took her advice. What did he change his name to?”
“Duncan.”
“What?”
“Clyde is your great-grandfather.”
She blinked, not quite sure she heard correctly, although to be fair, it made sense in a slightly odd way. Why else would she have experienced the memories of a woman who had died over a century earlier?
“Oh my God,” she said, shaking her head. “I never knew. My dad was born in Las Vegas.”
“It was actually easy to trace the line. Clyde’s son moved back to Nevada. Who knows, maybe he had gold fever too.”
“Well, it certainly explains a lot,” she murmured. “It explains why my dad always drank. Don’t they say alcoholism runs in the family?”
“Maybe. But at least Chris seems to have beaten it.”
“Yes. Thank God. Thank you, Bishop.”
He held up a finger. “Wait. It gets better. Remember, Clyde was owner of a claim.”
Excitement gripped her belly. “The Recovery.”
“Yep. I remembered something Groto told me long ago. The mine was in escrow, waiting for the owner.” He cupped her face. “You are the owner, Evelyn. I have all the research papers you’ll need to lay claim to it.”
Recover Me Page 13
