It wasn’t a request.
“Yes, Lugh. I think I’ll, uh, go to my room now, wash up a little.”
“Fine. Run along.”
She left the building with two pairs of eyes burning a hole in her back. The clock was ticking. If she didn’t find anything worth reporting before midnight, she’d have to slip away empty-handed. For good. She’d never be able to return again, after cheating Lugh of the “bud of her innocence” twice.
KEEPING OUT OF SIGHT of the horde of commune members gathering branches was child’s play for Caleb. He moved like a wraith. Now, perched in a tree, he slipped a pair of high-powered binoculars from his rucksack and trained them on the grounds around the main buildings. His patience was rewarded minutes later when Elizabeth came into view, walking between the clubhouse and the administration building. She glanced toward the woods, and her anxious gaze seemed to lock with his for one long, impossible moment.
“Don’t do anything foolish, Elizabeth,” he murmured, watching her disappear into a doorway. “Leave the fancy stuff to Rambo.”
ELIZABETH’S ROOM had indeed remained undisturbed in her absence. She stood in the doorway, straining her ears for sounds of activity in the building. Nothing. Most everyone was in the woods, no doubt, getting ready for the celebration later.
Knowing she wouldn’t get another opportunity like this, she silently slipped out of her room and down the carpeted hallway. She’d never before had a chance to snoop around Lugh’s private suite. With the place empty, this was as good a time as any.
She let herself into his sitting room. Lugh seemed to favor expensive, ultramodern furnishings—leather, glass and plush imported carpets. She went through to the large bedroom. A king-size platform bed covered by a black satin comforter dominated the room. The rest of the furniture was black lacquer, and the walls were sheathed in mushroom-colored silk. It was a far cry from the members’ squalid cabins.
The only other doors led to a sumptuous bathroom bigger than her bedroom, and a separate dressing room. Whatever nefarious activities were going on, they didn’t seem to be going on here.
She’d just turned to leave when muted voices drifted through the suite from the closed door to the outer hallway. A man and a woman. The door started to creak open and Elizabeth panicked. The last thing she needed was to be caught poking around Lugh’s bedroom.
She started toward the bathroom, but stopped short If this was the cleaning crew, the bathroom was no place to hide. She couldn’t crawl under the platform bed, with its solid pedestal. Frantically she glanced around the bedroom, and her gaze fell on the wardrobe. She raced to it, opened the mirrored doors and stepped inside, squeezing among Lugh’s clothes. The voices suddenly became louder. She pulled the doors closed and found they didn’t meet completely. The slim crack between them enabled her to peer into the room.
“...wants everyone out there at nine for the bonfire,” the woman was saying as the two strolled into the bedroom.
“What about security around here?” the man asked.
“He’ll have someone on duty. He figures one guy can hold down the fort during the party.”
The two crossed to the wardrobe, and Elizabeth’s heart nearly stopped. But they turned their backs and squatted at the fringed edge of the beautiful abstract area rug laid over the gleaming parquet floor. They rolled up the rug, revealing a large, stainless-steel panel set into the floor.
Elizabeth’s eyes bulged as the man pulled a recessed handle to open a little door in the panel, exposing a keypad. She couldn’t make out the tiny numbers, but as she watched him quickly key in four digits, she tried to burn the pattern into her memory—his forefinger made a check-mark shape on the keypad.
With a soft hissing sound, the steel trapdoor dropped several inches until it had cleared the wooden flooring, then slid open along the center seam. The space below was lit, but Elizabeth could see nothing except the first few carpeted steps.
Chattering about the coming celebration, the pair descended the stairs, disappearing into the secret basement. Only then did Elizabeth notice how airless the interior of the wardrobe had become. And hot. Her skin prickled, and sweat gathered between her breasts and under her arms. She could have sworn Lugh’s clothes had multiplied in the past few moments, reaching for her, suffocating her.
Dare she leave while those two were still down there? No. She couldn’t risk it They could come up at any time. After an interminable few minutes, they reemerged, the woman carrying a fat brown envelope. The man pushed a button on the exposed edge of the trapdoor, which silently slid closed. They rolled the rug back into place and strolled out of the suite.
Elizabeth crept from her hiding place. The secret cellar had to be the location of whatever dirty business Lugh was up to—whatever had gotten David and Tessa killed. Elation warred with raw fear. She wanted nothing more than to toss aside the rug under her feet and explore Lugh’s underground activities. But now wasn’t the time. Even if the two lackeys she’d just seen didn’t return, someone else might come upon her—perhaps Lugh himself.
No, she’d wait until nine o‘clock, when everyone would be at the bonfire. They’d said only one guard would be on duty. As she carefully made her way out of the suite and the building, she thought about the promise she’d made to Caleb. She’d sworn to do nothing more than look around for likely locations, and wait for him to join her at ten o’clock so he could do the actual investigating—the breaking and entering.
That plan made sense, yet how could she pass up the opportunity to do a little exploring on her own when the place was practically deserted? Afterward she’d meet Caleb as scheduled and they’d go directly to the police with whatever she uncovered.
As she casually strolled outside to join the rest of the commune in a search for branches, she envisioned the gleam of pride that would light Caleb’s eyes when she dropped the evidence in his lap. A secret half smile curved her mouth.
WHAT THE HELL was she doing? Caleb held the night-vision goggles to his eyes. From his position near the edge of the woods he had a good view of the main buildings of the compound. It was a little after nine and he’d just done recon deep in the woods to the east, where the commune members had constructed a massive bonfire in a clearing.
Most of them wore white robes and huge masks of animals that covered their entire heads. A motley ensemble played discordant music on guitars, tambourines and recorders, while others danced around the bonfire with their jack-o’-lanterns, laughing and singing, obviously enjoying this rare respite from their labors.
As he peered through the goggles, night became green-tinted day. He watched a lone figure skirt around the cabins toward the administration building. From high on the torso came the steady little light—the infrared beacon visible only to him—that told him he was watching the woman he loved. But what was she doing? Why wasn’t she with the others? Hadn’t she had plenty of time earlier to snoop around the building?
Damn. What if Lugh came looking for her?
Caleb growled, “Get back to the wingding, Mata Hari. Don’t start getting cute on me now.”
Why had he ever agreed to let her do this? He should have listened to his instincts—hog-tied her if that’s what it took—and made this a solo mission. He’d never forgive himself if she got hurt.
“I’M RELIEVING YOU,” Elizabeth said.
The guard eyed her suspiciously from his post just inside the administration building. He was a freckle-faced redhead in his early twenties. She didn’t remember him; he must have joined recently.
He said, “I’m here all night, is what they told me. Who’re you, anyway?”
“Beth Russell. I just got back—”
“Hey, I heard of you! Aren’t you that girl that was snatched a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah, that’s right. My family hired a deprogrammer.”
“Wow. Was it, like, as bad as they say?”
“I can’t begin to describe it.”
“So how’d you get away?”
“I
pretended I was some kind of helpless, wimpy female. When he let down his guard I overpowered him and escaped. Lugh was so impressed, he put me on the security force. Sure beats scrubbing the john.” She jerked her head toward the party. “Go on. I can handle things here.”
The guard puffed his cheeks with the effort of cogitation. “I don’t know...I wanna join the fun, but they told me I gotta stay here.”
Elizabeth extracted her semiautomatic from her jacket and showed it to him. “Lugh gave me this and said to tell you to find a costume and enjoy the rest of the party.” Only the security force were armed.
He relaxed. “Cool. I’m outta here. See ya around.”
The instant he left, she hurried to Lugh’s quarters, rolled up the rug over the trapdoor and exposed the keypad. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jacket and concentrated on envisioning the pattern she’d seen the man key in earlier. Her finger hovered over the pad and then she tapped the four numbers.
The steel trapdoor dropped and slid open with a hiss. Elizabeth said a silent yes! She took a deep breath and descended the carpeted steps into a large, bright room. Whatever she expected to see, it wasn’t this: a dean, well-equipped office, chock-full of the latest in high-tech equipment.
She saw a couple of computers, complete with a top-of-the-line color laser printer. Nearby sat something that looked like a desktop photocopier. Closer inspection revealed it to be a scanner, used to transfer photographs or printed material directly into a computer. In the corner sat a large photocopier. She perused the controls and realized it was a color copier. A massive, well-lit worktable occupied one wall.
She did a slow three-sixty, staring at these pricey gizmos. Was she totally off base in her suspicions? Could Lugh be hiding all this stuff away just to keep the grubby hands of the commune members off it?
Along one wall, in the midst of this high-tech haven, were a clothes washer and dryer. She frowned. What’s wrong with this picture? She opened the lid of the washer. Empty. She was about to close it when something caught her eye. She reached in and peeled a damp piece of paper off the inside of the washer tub.
And stood staring at a twenty-dollar bill.
Realization struck in a sickening rush. Stunned, she gaped at her surroundings with a fresh eye.
Lugh was a counterfeiter!
She turned the bill over in her hand. It looked perfect. She’d heard that fake bills were often laundered prior to circulation to give them a worn look.
Was this one damp faux twenty enough evidence to interest the police? Somehow she doubted it. She had to do better than that, but she’d been down there too long already. It wouldn’t be long before Lugh discovered the guard had deserted his post. She hoped to be on the other side of the compound by then.
She scurried around the room yanking open drawers and cabinets, searching frantically. On the worktable lay an open box labeled Rice Paper. She fingered a sheet. It had the feel of crisp new money. She lifted the top of a small cardboard box near it—and sucked in a sharp breath. Stacked inside were bundles of twenties, each secured with a blue rubber band over a strip of yellow paper.
She grabbed a bundle and tucked it in her jacket pocket next to her gun. At the foot of the stairs she paused and listened intently. When silence greeted her, she let out the breath she’d been holding and crept back up to Lugh’s bedroom. She pushed the button that closed the trapdoor and replaced the rug.
Within seconds she was outside, trying to keep from running as she crossed the grounds toward the distant garage where she was to meet Caleb. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Beth! Wherever are you going, love?”
Lugh’s voice slammed into her from out of the gloom. She froze, deafened by her own pulse, and squinted into a flashlight beam now trained on her face.
Lugh chided, “Wayne, be nice....”
The light beam slowly descended, lingering on her chest, which rose and fell rapidly as she struggled for composure. Her jacket still lay open and she imagined they could see her heart hammering her rib cage.
The flashlight clicked off, and now she could just make out the moonlit forms of the two men. Lugh wore a white robe and a papier-mâché raven-head mask. She recalled that ravens were associated with the Celtic god Lugh. Wayne towered over his boss. He, too, was clad in a white robe, along with a hideous bear-head mask, complete with fangs. The masks enclosed their entire heads.
Wayne grunted. A man of few words.
Lugh translated. “Wayne wants to know why you’re dashing into the woods, Beth. I must say, such behavior is...curious.” The raven head turned to peer in the direction she was headed—away from the commune’s buildings, away from the bonfire. He turned back and silently awaited an explanation.
She swallowed a knot of terror and faced him squarely. “I...got kind of disoriented, I guess. I thought everyone was...” She shrugged and nodded toward the inky woods.
Silence reigned for a heart-stopping few moments. Lugh sighed resignedly. He gestured toward her. “Wayne...”
The huge man handed the flashlight to Lugh and came at her. She tried not to cringe as his meaty hands patted her down and reached into her jacket pocket
When he grunted again, it sounded like “Gotcha!”
10
CALEB’S FINGERS tightened painfully on the night-vision goggles when he saw the bodyguard put his hands on Elizabeth. Wayne pulled something out of her pocket—her gun, he assumed—and Lugh reacted. Caleb knew it was Lugh under that ridiculous raven mask; he’d been keeping track of the commune leader for hours.
Elizabeth’s hand fluttered to her chest The steady light signal started to blink.
“No kidding,” Caleb growled. “What the hell have you done, Elizabeth?”
As if she heard him, she threw a panicked glance in his direction before the bodyguard roughly hauled her back toward the administration building.
“I’m coming for you, sweetheart.” He lowered the goggles. “Just hang in there.”
WAYNE SHOVED ELIZABETH onto a silk-upholstered armchair in Lugh’s bedroom. She looked into his mean dark eyes through the small holes in the gigantic bear-head mask he still wore, probably to scare her spitless on some visceral level.
It was working.
Lugh, however, pulled off his mask and set it aside. He smoothed a few errant strands of blond hair off his face. She’d never seen him look so frigidly remote. This wasn’t the same man who’d waxed poetic a few hours ago about a “cosmic force” drawing them together. This man was capable of anything.
Wayne had pulled a hefty semiautomatic out of his robe the instant they entered the building. Now Lugh produced one as well, and trained it on her even as he spoke to his bodyguard.
“Who’s supposed to be watching the building tonight?”
The bear grunted. She thought it sounded like “Paul,” though it could have been “Saul” or even “Y’all.”
“Find him.” The rest went unsaid.
She didn’t envy the hapless guard.
Wayne left and Lugh came to stand over her. He held the bundle of twenties, with its distinctive yellow-and-blue banding. It would be preposterous for her to try to claim she’d gotten it anywhere but from the secret chamber directly below them.
“So.” He tapped the bundle against her cheek. “Is this what you were after all along, love, or did you just get nosy? And greedy?”
Caleb, did you see the signal? Do you know I need you?
It was still a good twenty minutes or so till ten o’clock, when she was supposed to meet him. If he hadn’t noticed the blinking signal, he wouldn’t figure out something was wrong till then. She didn’t want to think about what this man and his taciturn bodyguard could do to her in twenty minutes.
He closed in, till his white robe brushed her trembling knees. He pressed the barrel of the weapon against her temple, his voice far too soft and silky for comfort. “When I ask a question, Beth, I expect an immediate answer. Is that understood?”
She stared u
p at him defiantly.
“You didn’t join Avalon for the wholesome country air, did you, love.” He’d begun figuring it out. “And here I thought I’d covered all my tracks. Well, it only goes to show—one can’t be too careful. Tell me, are you really a virgin?”
He tossed the bills onto his bed and reached for her breast. She recoiled and shoved his hand away. Even more than sheer revulsion at his touch, she was terrified of him finding the little Firefly. If he suspected she had an accomplice, both she and Caleb would be in even greater danger.
He chuckled. “Perhaps so. Well, not to worry, love. You shan’t be burdened by your sexual inexperience for long. I’ll see to that.” His grin was malignant. “And so will Wayne. And afterward...well, let’s just say that afterward you won’t be burdened by anything ever again.”
“Are you going to hang me, like you did David?”
His eyes slowly widened. “Well. Surprise surprise. How do you know David?”
She didn’t dare sneak a peek at her watch. “Or are you going to have me strangled and dumped in the woods like Tessa?”
His face twisted in an ugly scowl. “Tessa turned on me. They both did. And they paid the price.”
Wayne reentered the room, still in full regalia—robe, mask, gun. Keeping his own gun pressed to her temple, Lugh said, “That was fast. Did you take care of Raoul?”
The bear grunted.
Lugh smiled appreciatively at his bodyguard. “Well, at least I can count on someone. I was just explaining to the young lady the price of betrayal. Now, let’s see, Beth...you could’ve learned about Tessa on the news, but my guess is you actually knew David Trent. Am I right?” He caressed her temple with the gun barrel. “Hmm?”
She trembled with fear and rage. “Go to hell.”
Wayne grunted with uncharacteristic eloquence, and Lugh grinned as he translated, “There isn’t much doubt of that, now is there?”
Déjà vu. That’s just how Caleb had answered the same barb that afternoon. She glanced at the bodyguard. He was staring intently at her. She shivered, realizing Lugh intended to share her with him. Would he keep the mask on?
A Hard-Hearted Hero (Harlequin Temptation) Page 13
