“Am I?” Her question had me taking pause. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Are you making up with Sam?” I tossed back.
She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“You’re considering it? You’re a better person than me, then.” Of course, I’d known that much about Paige for a long time.
“I hardly think that.”
“Becky couldn’t accept that I missed out on our plans because of this investigation. But she knows what I do for a living. If she can’t accept that, then—”
“Why bother?” she interjected.
“Yeah.”
“I thought you two got along quite well, though.”
“We do. Even outside the bedroom.” I added the latter with a smile to try to lighten the conversation, to protect my emotions.
“In that case, maybe it’s worth trying to save. At least I think so. Did you call her before you left town?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Ah. Same for me. I forgot to let Sam know until we were already here.”
“I didn’t remember at all until she’d left three voice mails for me.”
Paige grimaced. “Oh.”
“Yeah, and she wasn’t too happy when we finally did connect.”
“Did you really expect she would be?”
“Kind of.”
“So you expect her to drop things for you and understand? But don’t you realize that you’re coming across to her like you don’t think about or consider her? To make matters worse, it was one of the most romantic evenings of the year. You should be begging her to forgive you.” She laughed off her last sentence, but I could tell she was being serious.
“What’s so funny?” Jack asked as he walked up with Zach.
“Long story.” Not that I’d found what Paige had said funny—at all—but it had me thinking.
Jack put a hand on my shoulder. “Good thing we got a long flight home, then, isn’t it, Kid?”
The three of them were smiling at me, and eventually, I returned it.
Maybe all wasn’t lost in the romance department. Or even in the game of life, for that matter.
-
Chapter 50
DUMFRIES, VIRGINIA
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 11:53 PM EASTERN
THE GOVERNMENT JET LANDED IN Virginia a little before midnight, and the cool temperature hit me immediately. I shrugged into my coat and said my good-byes to the team. I could head straight home, but there was something I needed to do first, even if it meant making a small drive.
The porch light came on and shone right in my eyes. I held up a hand to block it. The door cracked open and then it flung out wide.
“What are you doing here?” Becky’s arms were crossed, and she was wearing a robe that covered her pajamas.
Maybe my coming here was a mistake. Just thinking that made my feet shuffle back.
She sighed. “You woke me up, Brandon. What is it?”
It was time to speak up, to lay it all out there. What exactly was I laying out there, though? God, the last time I’d laid it all out there, it had ended with my wife filing for divorce.
“The case I was working on in Savannah, it’s closed now.” My words dissipated into white puffs of fog.
“Good for you.” Her steely gaze was hardened on me.
“Listen.” I took a step toward her and put my hand on her elbow. “You’ve got to be freezing. Let’s—”
“I’m fine, Brandon.” She pulled away from me. “Talk.”
I swallowed. “I missed you. I’m sorry I messed up Valentine’s Day.”
She didn’t say anything. She just stood there looking at me.
“Please say something.” I barely managed to get the sentence out. I’d put my heart out there— Or had I? Friends can miss other friends, right? But Becky was more to me than a friend. Or at least I hoped she would be.
I took a deep breath. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and—”
“I have been, too, Brandon.” She blinked slowly and turned away. “I think we made the right decision. You don’t want anything serious. I kind of do.” The pain in her eyes when they met mine cut at my heart.
“I guess I messed up a lot more than one day.”
Forget disappointment, heartbreak was definitely creeping in. But if my job taught me anything, it was that life was short and it certainly didn’t always go the way we’d planned. But there are times when we have a say, when we can make a choice to stand up for what we believe in, when we can decide to take what we want or forever regret it.
“I love you, Becky.” The words came out, and instantly I felt my bachelorhood slipping away, but it was too late to reel them back in. Besides, I didn’t want to.
Becky was just looking at me, her eyes scanning mine.
“Please…say something.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she licked her lips.
“I know I’ve told you before that I don’t want anything serious, that I just want to keep this—us—casual. But that’s not the truth anymore. I missed you this week, Becky, and not like I would miss a pet or a friend.”
“Okay…” She gave me a small smirk.
Progress.
“I missed you because you’ve started to become a part of me,” I went on. “We are good together. I should have called you before I left town.”
She didn’t say anything for a few more seconds, and then she threw her arms around me. I hugged her tightly until she broke from the embrace.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” she asked. “For us to be dating officially?”
“Exclusive, actually.” I wasn’t seeing anyone else anyhow, and the truth was, I didn’t need anyone but Becky.
Her eyes widened. “Wow. Exclusive? Who are you?” She squinted. “Am I dreaming?”
“I don’t know. If you were dreaming, would you feel this?” I captured her mouth with mine and backed her into the house, closing the door behind us. I would take her upstairs and make love to her because she was the one who made things all right, even when they weren’t. She was the one who helped wash away the horrible things I’d witnessed and gave everything in my life more purpose.
-
Acknowledgments
A lot of people have helped me along my writing journey. My husband, George, has been a rock and strong supporter from the beginning. He believes in me, and I have fun talking “murder” with him. I thank him for always being there and can’t imagine life without him by my side.
I also thank my contacts in law enforcement for their selfless devotion to helping me get the police procedure and forensics right. Whether you’ve been following my work, or this book is the first of mine you’ve read, this is of great importance to me, and I am forever grateful.
A special thank-you goes out to Yvonne Bradley, who served as a forensic consultant for me on this book, and tirelessly answered my many questions and shared her expertise.
I’d also be remiss not to mention my editor, Danielle Poiesz, and her team, whose commitment to excellence and unwavering dedication has helped me to not only polish this book but has pushed me to grow in the craft.
-
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Preview of City of Gold
Finding the Inca’s lost City of Gold would be the discovery of a lifetime. But failing could mean her death…
Archaeologist Matthew Connor and his friends Cal and Robyn are finally home after a dangerous retrieval expedition in India. While they succeeded in obtaining the priceless Pandu artifact they sought, it almost cost them their lives. Still, Matthew is ready for the next adventure. Yet when new intel surfaces indicating the possible location of the legendary City of Gold, Matthew is hesitant to embark on the quest.
Not only is the evidence questionable but it means looking for the lost city of Paititi far away from where other explorers have concentrated their efforts. As appealing as making the discovery would be, it’s just too risky. But when Cal’s girlfriend, Sophie, is abducted by Matthew’s old nemesis who is dead-set on acquiring the Pandu statue, Matthew may be forced into action. Saving Sophie’s life means either breaking into the Royal Ontario Museum to steal the relic or offering up something no one in his or her right mind can refuse—the City of Gold.
Now Matthew and his two closest friends have to find a city and a treasure that have been lost for centuries. And they only have seven days to do it. As they race against the clock, they quickly discover that the streets they seek aren’t actually paved with gold, but with blood.
-
Prologue
REPUBLIC OF INDIA
THE SOUND OF HIS THUMPING heartbeat was only dulled by the screeching monkeys that were performing aerial acrobatics in the tree canopy overhead. Their rhythmic swinging from one vine to the next urged his steps forward but not with the same convincing nature as did the bullets whizzing by his head.
Matthew glanced behind at his friends and was nearly met with a bullet between the eyes. He crouched low, an arm instinctively shooting up as if he’d drop faster with it atop his head. The round of shots hit a nearby tree, and splintering bark rained down on him.
“Hurry!” he called out, as he peered at his companions.
“What do you think we’re—” Cal lost his footing, tripping over an extended root, his arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance.
Robyn, who was a few steps ahead of Cal, held out a hand, her pace slowing as she helped steady him.
“Pick it up, Garcia!” Matthew didn’t miss her glare before he turned back around. He hurdled through the rainforest, leaping over some branches while dipping under others, parting dangling vines as he went, as if they were beaded curtains.
His lungs burned, and his muscles were on fire. One quick glance up, and the monkeys spurred him on again. Not that he needed more than the cries of the men who were chasing him. The voices were getting louder, too—growing closer.
Robyn caught up to Matthew. “What happened to natives with poison darts?”
“The modern-day savage packs an AK-47 and body armor.”
Several reports sounded. Another burst of ammunition splayed around them.
“If we get out of this alive, you owe me a drink.” Her smile oddly contrasted their situation.
“I’ll buy you each two,” Matthew promised.
Cal ran, holding the GPS out in front of him, his arm swaying up and down, and Matthew wasn’t sure how he read it with the motion.
“Where do you expect to take us, Cal? We’re in the middle of a damn jungle,” Robyn said.
“Round here. Go right,” Cal shouted.
Another deafening shot rang out and came close to hitting Matthew.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Matthew ramped up his speed, self-preservation at the top of his list while the idol secured in his backpack slipped down in priority.
Most of their pursuers were yelling in Hindi, but one voice came through in English. He was clearly the one giving directions, and from his accent, Matthew guessed he was American, possibly from one of the northern states.
“I have to stop…and…breathe.” Robyn held a hand to her chest.
“We stop and we’re dead. Keep moving.” Cal reached for her arm and yanked.
Matthew slowed his pace slightly. “Robyn, you could always get on Cal’s back.”
“What?” Cal lowered the arm that was holding the GPS.
She angled her head toward Matthew. “If you think I’m going to get up there like some child, you are sorely mistaken.”
Matthew laughed but stopped abruptly, his body following suit and coming to a quick halt. He was teetering on the edge of a cliff that was several stories high, looking straight down into a violent pool of rushing water. He lifted his gaze to an upstream waterfall that fed into the basin.
Cal caught Matthew’s backpack just in time and pulled him back to solid ground.
The rush of adrenaline made Matthew dizzy. He bent over, braced his hands on his knees, and tucked his head between his legs. He’d just come way too close to never reaching his twenty-ninth birthday.
Robyn punched Cal in the shoulder. “Go right, eh? Good directions, wiseass. Maybe next time we’ll just keep going straight.”
“Sure, blame the black guy,” Cal said.
More bullets fired over the empty space of the gorge.
“What do we do now?” Cal asked.
Matthew forced himself to straighten to a stand. He hadn’t brought them all the way here to die. He’d come to retrieve a priceless artifact, and by all means, it was going to get back to Canada. He pulled off his sack, quickly assessed the condition of the zippers, and shrugged it back on. He tightened the straps, looking quickly at Cal and then at Robyn. One stood to each side of him. He had to act before he lost the courage. He put his arms out behind them.
Robyn’s eyes widened. “What are you doing, Matt? You can’t honestly be thinking of—”
Matthew wasn’t a religious man, but he was praying for them on the way down.
-
Chapter 1
TORONTO, CANADA
ONE MONTH LATER…
DRENCHED IN SWEAT, CAL MYERS gripped the sheets and bolted upright, his body heaving, his lungs hungry for oxygen. The scream that had woken him was his own.
“Cal?” Sophie’s hand touched his shoulder, and he sprang out of the bed. She rolled over to face him. “Another nightmare?”
That was one way of putting it. He’d been running and dodging bullets one minute, and the next thing he knew, the ground had disappeared from under him and he was falling, falling, falling. Just when it had seemed bottomless, there was the raging river with its white caps and jagged rocks dotting its surface.
“Maybe you should take a break from all these adventures.” Her words were soft, thoughtf
ul.
His gaze met hers. Sophie Jones was his girlfriend of five years. Given their similar personalities and restless natures, it was hard to believe they’d managed to stay monogamous for that long. They had yet to commit to living together or the big M-word, but she grounded him—her words, not his—and she was the one who gave his life any semblance of normalcy. Besides their long-term relationship, nothing else fit within the confines of an ordinary existence. He blamed—and thanked—Matthew Connor for that.
Sophie patted the mattress. “Come back to bed, baby.”
The alarm clock on the dresser read 5:15. He had no reason to be up this early, but getting back to sleep was going to be impossible. His imagination would only continue to replay the dream.
“You went through a lot in India,” she said. “I’m sure that Matthew would understand if you took some time off.”
He refused to acknowledge her line of reasoning. Before Matthew, his life had been anything but exciting. While it was true that Cal had explored the world, writing travel pieces and photographing some of the most popular landmarks didn’t hold a flame to treasure hunting and being shot at and— What was wrong with him? Why did he crave the element of danger? It wasn’t healthy. If anything, his recurring nightmare confirmed that. Some time off might do him good.
He slipped back into bed, and Sophie snuggled against him. She traced her fingertips over his chest, her touch working to dull the flashbacks.
“Was it the same dream you’ve been having lately?”
He swallowed, trying to keep the calm she was compelling him toward. “Yeah, the one where the ground just disappears.”
“I didn’t think the ground disappeared from under you in India,” she teased gently.
She was trying to make him smile, even for a second, and he loved her for that, but he didn’t want to remember what had truly happened. Was it possible he had a touch of PTSD?
“Close enough,” he said. “I still can’t believe he pushed us over the edge like that.”
She reached for his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “But all of you survived and you’re fine.”
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