Hidden Gabriel

by Pinder, Victoria

  In a hurry, she threw everything into a pot to let it stew, then took off to the lobby. The library wall had been hollow, so she banged on the walls outside the drafty entrance room and tried to find the soft spots.

  Her teeth chattered. The picture of Tiffany stared at her, and Erica froze. The howl of the wolves outside somehow emboldened her. She couldn’t go anywhere, and walls didn’t bite. Then, with a determined lift of her head, she refused to glance at that woman’s portrait again. Gabriel deserved better.

  She stopped and checked the back of the frame. The nail was too high, and she’d need something to stand on to get the portrait down. Perhaps she’d get Gabriel to help, or a sturdy ladder. She dropped the frame back on the wall. It made a loud thump. Then she set off up the stairs.

  The main lobby needed a good cleaning, but Erica’s heart raced now. She shook off the queasiness in her stomach and circled the room. Soon her knuckles ached, but she finished searching the room. No secret spaces in the main vast lobby, but the eyes of that creepy portrait seemed to follow her. Erica shook her head. Impossible thoughts were not needed right now.

  Erica ran her hand through her hair. Then she looked up at Tiffany again. How had such a dainty woman been overlooked as a suspect? Was it the blonde hair? Erica’s more mousy brown hair would never get her out of anything, including a speeding ticket, not that she’d tried. Erica hugged herself and then headed back into the apartment.

  She needed to check upstairs, but first, she’d stir the stew. Hopefully she’d find a pair of soft gloves back in his small apartment.

  Without hesitating, she opened the door and walked right into Gabriel. His ripped body sent a thrill down her. His large shoulders blocked her vision, and she almost lost her balance. His strong arms caught her as she swayed. Her hands and feet went still, and, slowly, she stepped back. “I’m sorry about everything.”

  His stare into her eyes made her cheeks burn, but she didn’t blink. She was determined to face him.

  He crossed his arms, like he needed to build a wall between them. “You should have told me, Erica.”

  She glanced to his chin and nodded. “Yeah, I should have. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

  As she lifted her chin up, he dropped his hands, then brushed her face for a moment. “You’ve dark circles under your eyes, Snowflake. I won’t hurt you. I tend not to shoot at people who don’t take a shot at me first.”

  He stepped back like his hand and body were on fire.

  “Wait.” She traced his arm and then placed her hand on his hip. He stopped, but gazed at his feet. She took a deep breath, then argued with him. “In your head, you can’t let what happened in war and your wife be confused with what happened here, with us. The war is the past. Your wife is supposed to be someone you can trust. You don’t like to talk about anything, and I wanted to help you. I should have told you the second I found the room. I was wrong, but I never set out to hurt you.”

  Instead of an answer, he shook his head and took a step to leave. She hugged his waist and refused to let him go. He brushed her hand off as he shook his head. “And the woman I’m having sex with and started to trust shouldn’t think I killed people.”

  Queasiness grew in her stomach. He had trusted her.

  “I don’t. I wanted you to be able to talk to me.” She touched his shoulder and hoped he’d turn back to her. “I begged you to talk to me. You wouldn’t tell me, so I went looking.”

  He sighed, but she won, though the victory was hollow. He turned back to meet her stare. “I was opening up to you, but I shouldn’t have. You’re no better than anyone else.”

  With a shaky voice, she choked with her desperation and tried to bargain. “Wait. I said I was sorry. It should be enough. If I had been truly terrified of you, I couldn’t have kissed you, never mind shared my most erotic fantasies. Before getting stuck here with you, I wasn’t open to either. I was closed off to relationships of any kind.”

  “You found what I’ve spent over a year searching for, Erica. I owe you.” Instead of saying anything else, he turned away from her again. He stared out the window at the never ending snow. She stood there and gazed at him. The rattle of the wind broke the silence first. Then he told her, “I have a plan to get us out of here.”

  “You do?” She stepped closer to him, and became overwhelmed. She sniffed his manly scent that turned her insides to jelly.

  Gabriel stayed stiff and kept his arms to the side of his body. He stayed silent for a moment, then told her, “I’ve spent the day fixing up my snowmobile and gassed it up.. I needed a few tools to ensure it’s engines purr. Tomorrow morning, I’ll test it out. If it works, I’ll drive you down the mountain.”

  “No.” Her hand went to her hip, and she shook her head.

  He turned around to stare at her and raised his eyebrows. “No?”

  She shook her head. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not leaving, not like this.”

  “Your mother needs you.”

  She put her hand on her hip. “True, but that sounds dangerous.”

  “I’ll get you home.”

  “You won’t be able to get back to your own house.”

  He crossed his arms. “I’ll manage.”

  She dropped her hand to her side. “If there was one secret room, there may be more.”

  “Don’t bother yourself.”

  She gazed into his eyes. “I will find it.”

  “Erica, stop.”

  She swallowed. “Mom wouldn’t want us both to die.”

  “We might make it.”

  “Not good enough. We’re waiting until it’s safe to go outside, and I’m not leaving before I finish tearing this house apart.”

  “I don’t understand you.” Gabriel tilted his head and stared at her. She held still and waited for him to say something else.

  Instead, he walked away. She hadn’t known what else to say. Not that she knew what his silence meant. In time, he’d have to forgive her. She wasn’t going to let him kill them both with his insane plan. Her eyes were watery, but she refused to cry. Every argument she’d spoken had been true. And she’d see this through to the end.

  With a tortured sigh, she headed to the stove and stirred the stew. Dinner smelled succulent.

  Suddenly, she heard a loud bang and froze. The windows rattled from the wind in the next second, but that wasn’t the first noise.

  A cold sweat on her skin made her hands clammy. Her neck had those tingles again, like someone else was here. She inhaled.

  A crash reverberated in the air.

  What? She dropped the spoon in the stew and flinched. This wasn’t a storm outside.

  She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. Whatever that was, it was big and metallic.

  She shook her head. Noises made no sense. Had she imagined it? Gabriel was in another part of the house.

  She fetched the spoon out of the stew. After she washed it, she strode to where the bang had come from.

  Strange. She had never heard things in her life until she’d come to this house.

  Her stomach hardened. She believed something saw her as prey, but the wolves were outside.

  Her shoulder barely ached now. He’d taken excellent care of her.

  Had Gabriel hurt himself? Had he left a door open?

  She hurried. In the laundry room, she opened one door, then the second to where he worked. His snowmobile sat in the middle of the room. He must have cracked it against a wall. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she held. No, she’d not leave. She wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms.

  As she tapped her foot, she stuck out her chin until he came back in the room to stare at her. She met his intense, pained brown eyes. “We wait until the snow melts.”

  He nodded at her and met her gaze. “It would be safer to wait.”

  He didn’t say another word, and she nodded back. “Good. Dinner is almost ready. Clean yourself up.”

  Her hips swayed. She could feel that he was watching her figure. His gaze fi
red up her skin, and the coolness inside her dissipated. Slowly, she headed back into the apartment. Until she left, he stayed silent, so she slammed the door behind her. Her dramatic exit made, she let herself breathe. She wished she hadn’t doubted him, but she’d never given up on any of her intentions. She’d fix what she did.

  And she’d find whatever other secrets were left in this house.

  The search began again after lunch. First, she’d try to talk to Gabriel.

  The tingles on her neck went away, though. The creepy feeling that someone stared with hate at her in the kitchen again hadn’t washed away with all the truth telling, and it was time to put whatever haunted him to rest.

  24

  Gabriel never came in for dinner, and Erica lost some of her determination. Dejected, she watched the night sky grow darker. If he ever showed up, she’s apologize. Perhaps today wasn’t the day. She wrapped the meal and went to bed without one glance at the door he’d left from. On her walk to her room, her shoulders slouched and her stomach was queasy and light, despite the hearty meal she’d made. Hopefully, sleep would help her. She opened her bedroom door and stayed determined. Tomorrow was another day and she had nowhere else to be.

  A roar of an oncoming storm greeted her ears. She refused to kill herself and him if she had tried to escape down the mountain of snow. In time, he’d have to speak to her.

  Neither of them had an escape route. So hopefully he’d forgive her.

  In her closet, she changed into flannel pajamas. The storm tonight would be another setback to winter ending. Gabriel had kept her alive. The memory of his gentle strength and massive shoulders hit her hard. He had held her until she wasn’t cold anymore.

  Damn. She’d screwed up. She brushed her hair out. Then she stared at herself in the mirror, and thought she saw something white in the corner.

  Her eyes narrowed, and she blinked. Nothing moved. She turned toward the spot, and stared at a wall and her shoes near the door.

  Wishful thinking, no doubt, that Gabriel would arrive.

  After she finished with her hair, she placed the brush back on the vanity and stared at the door.

  At least everything was out in the open now. No more secrets.

  Yet her shoulders were tense, and she had goose bumps on her arms. Her mind screamed, but she shook it off. With a deep breath, she opened her hand and stretched to let go. Coldness hit her neck and icicles raced down her spine. Strange. She rolled her hands out in a circle to relieve stress.

  Finally, the goose bumps on her neck stopped and she could breathe.

  No more murder mystery plot played in her head. If she found another secret room, she’d solve the mystery and regain Gabriel’s trust.

  With her gaze downcast, she caught sight of the sores on her hands. Her palms needed a good soaking and a good moisturizer to heal. The lobby had been big. Tomorrow, she’d start on the rooms, which were much smaller.

  She took herself into her bedroom. Sleep escaped her. So she paced a minute, then decided to take a long shower. Perhaps she’d find some moisturizer under the sink.

  * * *

  A half hour later, she turned off the faucet. Her ears perked up, and she hoped to hear some sign of Gabriel. But silence greeted her ears.

  With a heavy sigh, her head hit the pillow, and her body burned for Gabriel. The wind rushed past her windows. The mirrors in her room represented her past, empty and devoid of life. The gamut of emotions she’d experienced here had changed her. In the past, she’d stayed intensely focused on money for her mom. And all success had steered her away from love and sex. She’d never forget Gabriel and wasn’t ready to give up. As she stared at the ceiling, she raised her hand up above her pillow and decided. She wanted him back. She might be falling in love with him.

  Hmm, well. Everything started with sex. Perhaps it was time to find a way to get him back in bed.

  Her mother would say that wasn’t a good plan, but Erica’s muscles relaxed at the thought. Pretense of a relationship wouldn’t sate her for long. She longed for all of Gabriel.

  As she nodded off to sleep, she remembered how she told Gabriel her fantasy of waking up to sex. A small smile appeared on her face. She had told that man every wicked thought in her head. Goodness knows she hardly did anything beyond read a few books. If he came to her, it meant he’d forgiven her. As she drifted off, she tugged the covers up to her head and wished he’d take her again.

  * * *

  She woke up the next morning, alone and untouched, and brought her legs up to her chin. She’d have to change her approach. Confrontation had never worked with Gabriel, though until she came here, she’d never had much patience. She ran her hand through her disheveled hair. She’d have to break him down slowly with understanding, and not be pushy, and let everything be. This plan included time with him, and she wasn’t much use with a hammer.

  Food worked as her best weapon. He’d have to eat at some point, and her meals had won awards.

  This plan sounded reasonable, but she also had her search to take some of the time away.

  Suddenly she stood, and her steps were heavy with determination. Gabriel’s steps became clearer with every second. She gulped. She quickly threw together what he called shepherd’s pie, though she added lemons to make it taste like picadillo, Miami’s more spicy version.

  A few minutes later, she finished. The footsteps stilled, but he didn’t come into the kitchen.

  She let out a sigh. Eventually she’d win. She bundled on sweaters and left the warm apartment. More secret rooms meant more evidence his wife had set up him up, and she’d eradicate one of his demons. In her pocket, she found another layer of gloves, though in the drafty room, she quickly stopped to read the article on Alicia Hatfield again. Did it mention a room number? She’d found the article on the second floor.

  A secret room where the murder took place would give someone a way in and out. If the police hadn’t known about the rooms, it was probable no one bothered to check the walls.

  She crumpled the paper in her back jean pocket. No news on the room number, but she’d head up to where she had found the news clipping.

  On the step, she closed her eyes and vaguely remembered the number 203 on one of the papers. This time, she used a flashlight from the laundry room and headed up the stairs. At the top step, she flashed the light at the room numbers. Her eyes widened. She’d found the article in the same room.

  A chill raced down her spine. Someone had been murdered here. On the steps where she stood. Erica straightened her outer sweater. Dread was natural, but the killer was long dead.

  As she pushed inside, she glanced around to check out the room. Her neck tingled here, and the coldness spooked her. She squared her shoulders and headed straight to the walls, where she threw her gloves on the nearby bed, then began knocking.

  The sound of her banging reverberated in the air. The walls were solid near the dresser and windows. Her palms ached by the third wall, next to the bed. She swallowed and continued. The sound changed halfway. This time, the wall echoed hollow.

  A giggle escaped her lips. To stop her smile, she bit her bottom lip and used her palm to trace the wall. In the library there was a switch near the solid walls. A few seconds later, she found the door latch. It clicked, but nothing moved. She pushed harder.

  Nothing, though her neck tingled. She developed cold sweats, like someone stood behind her. Erica turned around fast, but no one was there. She rubbed her temples, then went inside. Would secret rooms explain the walls?

  The other secret room had a handle to click, but nothing on the wall moved there. A chill racked her, and goose bumps appeared all over her body. In a flash, she froze, and her head shouted inside her to run away, but her legs held her strength anyhow. She refused to give up on this.

  If she opened a secret door, she’d have something to tell Gabriel. Her legs were stronger than her hands, and she used her backside. To try with her biggest asset, she leaned back with her butt and pushed hard into the
wall.

  Finally, it lurched open, and she fell in. But her fingers became clammy, and she dropped her flashlight.

  Landing on her butt, she bounced.

  Ouch.

  Her flashlight crashed in the other room and shattered into pieces. The whoosh of dust brought tears to her eyes. Suddenly, the door swung closed behind her. She screamed and leaped to get to the door. She landed back in a heap with the door slammed in her face.

  She took dirt into her lungs, and coughed until she could breathe again. She covered her mouth. Blackness surrounded her with no chance of light. She shed a few tears, then stopped. Was she trapped in the secret room about to die? Her mind raced, but she shook her head. No. Now she had a new set of problems. She needed to think.

  She’d get out of this.

  She stared into total darkness, unable to see.

  She cringed and fought back dizziness from the lack of oxygen in her lungs. Slowing her breathing became easier. The dust settled back down.

  Finally, she stopped gasping and waved her hand in front of her face. She could barely make out anything. She blinked, but didn’t see much at all.

  Even during a blackout in Miami, after a hurricane knocked out all power, she’d never been in this much darkness.

  Her pulse raced, and she picked herself up. Taking careful steps forward, she tried to find the door. With a few small steps forward, she almost lost her balance, like someone with tiny hands had pushed her. She swallowed. Her thoughts were impossible. Her vision became a little sharper, though everything remained dark. Her fingers gripped the wall, and she stayed upright. “Hello?”

  The blackness of shadow had an outline of a woman and stole away her sight.

  No one answered.

  Instead of panic, she tipped her toes and hit a step. A fall would break her neck. She rubbed the back of her head. Whoever was here preferred to hide. Erica reached out with her hand to find and trace the second wall through the room. Was she in a hallway? The walls were so long, and the step went down. If this was a hall, then she’d find another way out. Determined, she found grooves to latch her fingers into and held firm.