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Delicate Ties (Trinity Master Book 8)

Page 9

by Mari Carr


  “Wow. How old is it?” Charlotte leaned closer.

  “I believe it was drawn in the late eighteen hundreds.”

  “I think you’re right.” She glanced at the initials on the bottom. “CFM.”

  “Any idea who that might be?”

  Charlotte shrugged. “Given the timeframe, my gut says Charles F. McKim. He was an architect at the time and he did a lot of work in Boston and New York City. Even so, I’ve never seen anything quite like this.” Charlotte studied it, trying to piece together what she was seeing. “No one draws schematics, blueprints like this, not even back in the eighteen hundreds.”

  “What do you mean?” Franco asked.

  “It’s odd.” She pointed to a large square on the left. “This appears to be the library, and this,” she tapped the opposite side, “is probably Trinity Church. But nothing is labeled.” She let her eyes follow one series of lines, lines that seemed to lead to nowhere. Frustrated, she followed the next line to the same conclusion. Finally, she figured out what was wrong. “Someone has combined the concept of a blueprint with that of a map.”

  Franco looked at the blueprint, the crease in his forehead vanishing. It was obvious to Charlotte that he had spent a great deal of time studying the paper. “You’re right. That’s been our issue. Some of us saying blueprint, others map. It’s both and it’s maddening.”

  “Because those are two very different creatures.”

  “So which came first? The blueprint or the map?”

  Charlotte ran her finger over a tattered edge of the paper. There was a dark outline along the edges that made her believe this had been kept in a frame for a very long time. “That’s just it. It was drawn that way. A combination blueprint and map. Which is wicked tricky to do, but this architect did it. Found a way to blend the two forms. What do you know about the lines that have been added to it?”

  “Precious little,” Franco admitted. “We think the spider’s web between the two buildings is a series of tunnels that connect the library and the church.”

  “That would make sense.”

  Franco looked at her, his head tilted. “You don’t seem surprised about this whole world beneath our feet. I thought you’d find that more interesting.”

  Charlotte laughed. “You’re kidding, right? You have the timing on this blueprint nailed. The late eighteen hundreds was prime time for tunnels. The blizzard of 1888 saw to that. Life as we knew it aboveground was crippled by snow, so everyone started looking for an alternative, a way to allow people to function, even in a blizzard. The Whitney brothers started working on the first subway systems. It’s a fascinating story.”

  “But these tunnels aren’t connected to the subway line.”

  “I’m not saying they are. I’m simply suggesting that whoever designed these tunnels was merely riding the trend of the day. While our forefathers looked down, these days we’re going green, finding ways to reduce CO2 emissions in power plants to building with organic or recycled materials.”

  Franco smiled at her and Charlotte felt an instant kinship with this man. “I love people who are passionate about their careers. I think you and I are going to have to be best friends.”

  She laughed. “Deal.”

  “So can you read this combination blueprint/map?”

  Charlotte sighed. “I knew you were going to ask me that. The problem isn’t the blueprint aspect. It’s a fairly straightforward schematic. My issue is the map part. There’s no scale or key.” She pointed to several symbols and then to the lines. “For instance, there’s no way of knowing distance, so while we can follow this line on the map, there aren’t any distinguishing features that tell you point A begins here and ends here. Figure in the intersecting lines that don’t seem to lead anywhere, and the additional stuff drawn in later, and this thing is a nightmare. And don’t even get me going on the different symbols. Without a key to tell us what they are, we’re flying blind.”

  “Would it be easier if you walked it?”

  Charlotte worked hard to school her features, but failed, excitement seeping out. “You’ve been in these tunnels?”

  “Not all of them. As you said, it’s a spider’s web with lots of offshoots, but I’ve seen a bit.”

  “There could be miles of tunnels underneath us.”

  Franco sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Our primary concern right now is discovering how many entrances there are. We know of one in the Grand Master’s office and another in the church.”

  “You believe there are more?”

  Franco pointed at the map. “Does that seem to indicate that there are?”

  Charlotte studied the lines again. Some ended with squares, others with double lines and a few with circles. What was even more frustrating was some of the symbols didn’t appear at the end of lines, but in the middle of them.

  Given Franco’s information about the entrances from the church and the library, it should be as simple as reading those symbols and inferring the lines with those shapes were the entrances. Unfortunately, those symbols didn’t match. “I can’t answer that without the key.”

  Franco was clearly disappointed. Charlotte felt the same. She hated failing. Her trinity had been given two tasks, and while Vincent had made serious headway into solving the mystery of Caden Anderson, she wasn’t faring as well. “Do other people know about these tunnels?”

  Franco nodded.

  “So the Trinity Masters headquarters is at risk.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “I can’t answer that. Your work on this is on a need-to-know basis only.”

  “If you tell me, you have to kill me kind of thing?”

  He grinned. “Exactly.”

  “Could I go down into the tunnels?” Charlotte felt certain she’d be better able to get her bearings if she could see the area, take some measurements, and make some notations. It would take longer, but she was determined to see this task through to the end.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Let me call Christian and Vincent. Do you have a few flashlights we can borrow?” she asked as she reached for her cell.

  “Now? You want to go now?”

  “Can you think of a better time? If the Trinity Masters are truly in danger, then we don’t have the luxury of waiting around.”

  Franco rose from the table. “Yep. Definitely going to be best friends. Call your guys while I grab some flashlights from Lee and let the Grand Master know of your plans. I’ll meet you by the elevators down in headquarters in half an hour to guide you to the entrance.”

  Franco left her alone with the map. Charlotte dialed Vincent’s number. When she left the hotel, Vincent had been working on his laptop while talking rapid fire to someone on speakerphone. He’d rattled off so many figures, she’d struggled to keep up. There was no doubt in her mind he was very good at what he did.

  Meanwhile, Christian had been sprawled out on the couch, the picture of relaxation, reading a script his agent had sent via courier. There was a new play opening on Broadway and the director wanted Christian to headline.

  Night and day. Her guys were complete opposites. At least life would never be boring.

  “Hello,” Vincent said.

  “Hey, good-looking. How would you and Christian feel about going on a little adventure with me?”

  Vincent chuckled. “Adventure, huh? That sounds good. You coming back here or should we meet you?”

  “Meet me at the library. The rare book room. I’ll fill you in on the details when you get here.”

  As she hung up, Charlotte remained at the table, looking at the map without really seeing it. She considered Lee’s trinity, the way he and Barry had formed the bond with Genevieve remaining a part, yet still on the outside.

  She thought about Vincent and Christian, about their very obvious attraction to each other. What would she do if they decided they wanted each other without her in the mix?

  She closed her eyes, shaking the thought from her head.

  “Don’t borrow trouble,�
�� her mother would say. Neither of them had given her any reason to believe she wasn’t an important part of their trinity, but Franco’s comment about the awkward adjustment period had taken root. They had fallen together quickly and easily. What happened when these tasks weren’t hanging over their head and they moved on to real life? They’d only been together for two days. It would be foolish to believe the whole thing would be sunshine and roses.

  “Enough,” she muttered as she rolled up the map. She’d distract herself in the rare book room until the guys arrived. There was always plenty to look at in there.

  All her fears flew out the window when Vincent and Christian showed up. Vincent walked straight over to her, kissing her deeply. When he stepped away, Christian was there, hugging her as if they’d been apart for years rather than hours.

  “Missed you, Chuck.”

  While Vincent had heeded her warning about the nickname, Christian possessed too much of the devil to let it go easily. The worst part was she was starting to like him calling her the hated nickname. It made her laugh.

  “Come on. Franco is waiting for us downstairs.”

  “Downstairs?” Christian asked.

  “The map of the tunnels is missing some key elements. I thought maybe I could figure them out if we took a look in person.”

  Christian looked aghast. “We’re going into the tunnels.” He looked down at his sweater. “But I’m wearing Burberry.”

  Vincent chuckled. “Jesus. That’s something I never thought I’d hear coming out of a man’s mouth.”

  “Laugh if you want, but this is cashmere. You can’t get cashmere dirty.”

  “Sorry,” Charlotte said as they climbed into the small elevator, hidden within the broom closet. “But I did say we were going on an adventure.”

  “I thought that was code for sex in the stacks.”

  Charlotte giggled. “Oh, I like that. I’ll keep that in mind. Next time.”

  Christian frowned. “I’m not a big fan of tight spaces.”

  Charlotte hadn’t considered his lame excuse about getting his clothes dirty might have more to do with a genuine fear. “You’re claustrophobic?”

  “A little. It’s nothing severe or crippling. I just…don’t care for feeling trapped.”

  Vincent reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go in, Christian. Charlotte and I can take a quick look around and when we’re done, we’ll all go out for dinner. We can hit Tico’s for tapas and tequila flights.”

  “I’m holding you to Tico’s,” Christian said, “but I’m not waiting for you. We’re all in it together on these tasks. Like I said, I can deal. Just not sure my Burberry will forgive me.”

  They were all laughing when the elevator doors slid open.

  Franco was waiting for them when they emerged. “Good joke?”

  Charlotte nodded. “Yeah, something like that. Franco, this is Vincent and Christian, my partners in crime. Guys, this is my new best friend, Franco.”

  Christian shook Franco’s hand. “I’m Seb’s brother.”

  “I know. He talks about you all the time. You got a cool little brother.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Christian said with a grin.

  Franco then shook hands with Vincent and together the four of them walked down the long corridor.

  No matter how many times Charlotte walked along this path, she was always taken aback by the sheer elegance of the design. She even felt a sense of pride when she recalled that her ancestor had a hand in creating this masterpiece.

  Franco led them into the Grand Master’s office, which was empty. Either she wasn’t here today or Franco had told her they’d be coming and she had cleared out. Charlotte was curious about the woman’s identity in a way she had never been with the previous Grand Master. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was the first female Grand Master in the history of the society or if it was because she sounded young or if it was just a girl thing.

  “You have access to the Grand Master’s office?” Vincent asked.

  Franco nodded, absentmindedly. “I’m one of her counselors. There are several of us. The entrance is here.” Franco pushed a button on the wall and a secret panel slid open to reveal the dark corridor. “We found this with the bit of the map we could figure out.” He handed each of them a flashlight. “You should proceed with caution. We had a cave-in not too long ago, so I wouldn’t walk down any paths that look dodgy.”

  “Buildings don’t ‘cave in’,” Charlotte corrected.

  “Okay then, things fell down and it was a bit of a mess and a woman got trapped in the rubble. Better?” Franco asked.

  “I’ll take it,” Charlotte said.

  “Trapped?” Christian muttered.

  Charlotte looked back at him, concerned. “Christian—”

  “Save it, Chuck. I’m going with you.”

  Franco stepped aside, clearing the entrance for them. “I have quite a bit of work to do, so I’ll stick around to see you out. Good luck.”

  Vincent turned on his flashlight and led the way, followed by Charlotte, then Christian. The initial entrance was narrow and damp. More than once, Charlotte had to pull the spider webs she walked through from her hair. Unlike Franco, she didn’t believe spiders were friends, and the only conversations she’d ever had with the frightening-looking creatures were typically done with the heel of her shoe.

  Every so often, she turned to check on Christian, who looked resolute and more serious than she’d ever seen him. She was starting to understand that his claustrophobia was worse than he had admitted.

  After some distance, the tunnel led to a much larger area, a room of sorts that contained quite a few crates.

  Vincent walked over and lifted the lid on one. “Just looks like old papers. Probably someone’s way of disposing of sensitive information before shredders.”

  Charlotte unrolled the map/blueprint and laid it on top of one of the crates. “Okay, I think we’re here.” She pointed to a spot on the map where several of the tunnels converged. “But the lines are wrong.” She shone her flashlight around the room and counted five doorways. “The map reveals six openings. We’re one shy.”

  “Franco mentioned a cave-in.” Christian had perched himself on one of the boxes.

  Charlotte stepped closer, not liking how pale he was. “That would be a pile of rocks. These walls are solid. Are you okay?”

  He nodded, wiping his sweaty forehead with the sleeve of his precious cashmere sweater. If his pasty appearance hadn’t already given him away, that definitely would have.

  Vincent recognized Christian’s anxiety as well. “Which pathways are accounted for, Charlotte?”

  She pointed. “This one appears to lead to the church. I’m making some assumptions here—the circle marks indicate doors or entrances. The double lines may represent rooms like this one.”

  Vincent frowned. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to have a line for a door, and a circle for a circular room?”

  “It would, but if you were drawing a map for a secret society…?”

  Vincent grunted. “Fair enough.”

  Charlotte turned back to the map. “We know about that entrance. This one looks like a dead end on the map, but let’s save it until later. I don’t have an accurate scale, but given how far we just walked, that one would end right in the middle of Trinity Circle.”

  “And that’s the one we just came through,” Vincent added. “Which leaves these two. Let’s divide and conquer, so we can finish faster. I’ll head down this tunnel. You and Christian tackle this one. We’ll walk no longer than ten minutes before turning back. If we hit an exit, pay dirt. If we don’t, we come back tomorrow.”

  Without Christian. Though Vincent didn’t say the words, Charlotte heard them just the same.

  “Deal.”

  “Meet you both back here in twenty. And if you guys aren’t here, I’m coming after you.”

  “Same,” Charlotte said, reaching up on tiptoe to kiss Vincent on the cheek.
r />   At some point during their planning, Christian had appeared to rally. He was standing again and looked more determined than ever to follow through on this investigation.

  “Ready?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I’m pushing through it. I’ll be fine.” He took her hand and the two of them walked along the tunnel. Mercifully, for Christian’s sake, this one wasn’t as tight as the one that led to the Grand Master’s office. It also wasn’t as long. Before they’d walked five minutes, they found themselves in a tiny room that was empty save for a broken wooden chair.

  “This looks like something out of a movie,” Christian remarked. “The bad guys drag the hero in, tie him to the chair, and torture him until he tells them what they want to know.”

  Charlotte shuddered at the imagery. “Thanks for that gruesome picture. Can we go back now?”

  Christian reclaimed her hand. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  They were back in the larger room with ten minutes to spare.

  “What do you say we head down Vincent’s tunnel and hook up with him? I don’t like the idea of him down here alone,” Charlotte said, recalling Franco’s warning about the cave-in.

  “Good idea.”

  Charlotte felt a brief wave of relief when, after a few minutes, she saw a light ahead. That relief was replaced by fear when she heard the sound of a fight in the distance.

  Christian shone his light down the tunnel. About fifty feet away, Vincent and a man in a mask were tussling. There were several large, waist-height boulders partially obscuring their path that Vincent must have worked his way around.

  Both men were distracted from their scuffle by Christian’s light, but the masked man recovered a split second faster. He smashed his flashlight down on Vincent’s head.

  “No!” Charlotte screamed as Vincent staggered, shaking his head to recover from the blow.

  Then the man followed up with a punch to Vincent’s face. A hard one. So hard his head flew back, hitting the stone wall behind him. Vincent groaned and went down.

  The masked man bent over, and Charlotte feared he intended to do even more harm to Vincent.

 

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