Gone to Dust

by Liliana Hart

  “Right,” Tess said. “Keep reading.”

  Did I ever tell you I read one of your books? You’re a hell of a writer. I especially enjoyed The Pirate’s Cove, though the guys gave me a hell of a time for reading it. And I’ve got to admit, they might have convinced me to read it out loud, though I had to let someone else read the love scenes. A guy named Rocket wants to meet you. Hope you don’t mind that I gave him your number. Where’d you learn all that stuff? Never mind, I don’t want to think about it.

  Your portrayal of island life was spot-on. In your book, you call them the Triangle Islands, but I’ve seen them for real. They exist by another name, and everything is just as you described it, right down to the waterfall. You must’ve spent a lot of time doing research.

  I know you remember the stories Mom and Dad told us as children. They haunt me sometimes, almost as much as the memories of the things I’ve done and seen as a SEAL. Needless to say, sleep for me is rare. But what the hell, I can sleep when I’m dead, right?

  Dad always told me I had a purpose far greater than anything I could hope for. I’m not sure I’ve lived up to that expectation. But the stories have stayed with me.

  Do you remember the miniature replica of the temple we built that summer? I’d have much rather been outside playing, but every day, like clockwork, Dad would have us gluing those little pieces together and following the diagram. Remember how hard it was to place the pillars just right? They kept falling over, and I think the one on the right eventually stayed that way.

  You should know Mom and Dad were never just treasure hunters. They had to leave us for good reason. They’d found their higher purpose in life, and died trying to fulfill it. I’ve known my higher purpose since the day Dad pulled me into his study and gave me King Solomon’s ring.

  If I’ve learned anything in this life it’s that evil exists. My one wish for you is that you never experience that. I’ve tried to keep you protected from my life. Take my advice: if anyone ever comes looking for me, start running and ask questions later. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

  I’ll see you soon, kid. Stay out of trouble, and lay off the sex scenes. It’s gross to think of my sister writing that stuff.

  Justin

  “I think I’m going to need another bottle of wine,” Miller said. “How the hell am I supposed to know where to start by reading that letter? Do I just show up in Baltra and start looking for waterfalls and big rocks with cracks in them? I’m sure that’ll be easy to do with henchmen on my back.”

  “Take a chill pill, Carmen Sandiego,” Tess said. “You know I love you, so I can say this, but this is pretty much the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

  “Opening another bottle of wine?” she asked hopefully.

  Tess didn’t even crack a smile. “You cannot be serious about flying to the Galápagos Islands to meet with a bunch of strange men who are threatening you and your brother. They might shoot you in the head the minute you get off the plane.”

  “No, they won’t. They need me to decipher Justin’s letter and lead them to the treasure.”

  “And you think once you do that they’ll just let you and Justin leave?” Tess asked.

  “Of course not,” Miller said. “I’m not an idiot. I just haven’t figured that part out yet.” Miller could practically feel Tess’s frustration. Her redheaded friend wasn’t good at concealing her emotions, especially when everything she was thinking played out across her face.

  “You need help,” Tess said. “Professional help. And not the mental kind, though I wouldn’t rule that out altogether yet.”

  “Very funny,” Miller said. “What I need is Rambo. Or at the very least, John Cena.”

  “A plan would be nice too. You can’t just get on a plane and head straight for the eye of the storm. Do you even have a passport? You’ve never been out of the country before. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

  “Of course I have a passport,” Miller said, undaunted by Tess’s logic. “Where am I supposed to get professional help and a plan? Oh, I know, I’ll just do a Google search and I’m sure someone with those qualifications will pop right up. Though now that you’ve put the thought in my head, I’m kind of leaning toward John Cena. Holy moly, I bet that man could go all night.”

  “I’m going to be smug right now because Deacon is like John Cena on steroids. And he can go all night and all day.”

  “Have you always been such a bitch?”

  “Your jealousy is showing. But because I’m such a good friend, I’m not going to mention it.”

  “You are a good friend.”

  “Damn straight I am,” she said. “Since I’m being such a good friend today, I should probably tell you I know the perfect professional for this little expedition.”

  “Is this going to be like the time we were in college and you accidentally hired a stripper instead of the Santa Claus we needed for that fundraiser?”

  “No, but you have to admit we got a lot more donations with the stripper than we would have with the real Santa Claus.”

  Miller shook her head in disbelief. “We got fined by the campus police.”

  “This guy is better than the stripper,” she said. “I promise. I’m going to get more wine.”

  Tess hoisted herself from the closet floor, and Miller held up her hand so she could be pulled to her feet.

  “I’ll come with you,” she said. “I need chips.”

  “I saw the state of your pantry when I was getting the wine,” Tess said. “Unless elves magically filled it while we were up here, the only thing you have to eat is a can of tuna and a disproportionate amount of barbecue sauce.”

  “I can’t ever remember if I have any when I go to the store,” Miller said with a sigh. “How are we supposed to get our nourishment and soak up the wine?”

  “That’s one of the good things about being married,” Tess said, her smile a little wobbly. “If you call and ask for snacks, they have to bring them to you. It’s a rule.”

  “So many damned rules,” Miller said, as they opened her bedroom door and went into the hallway. It opened up into a small landing, and the second they reached the top of the stairs, that’s when all hell broke loose.

  The windows at the front of the house imploded, sending shards of glass flying in every direction. A yellowish smoke filled the air, and Miller’s eyes burned from the acrid scent. She sucked in a deep breath and held it as she lost complete visibility.

  “Go,” Tess yelled, pulling her back and shoving her toward the bedroom.

  Miller didn’t have to be told twice, but then she thought of the laptop sitting on her desk and the almost-finished manuscript. She detoured to the left into her office, and she could hear Tess’s curses behind her. She slapped the lid of her laptop closed and held on to it for dear life, tripping again over the boxes she’d set in the doorway as she ran out.

  Footsteps crunched over broken glass, and she heard the crash of what sounded like a table being knocked over. Things could be replaced. She and Tess couldn’t be.

  They raced across the hall and into her bedroom, slamming the door closed and locking it for good measure. Though a good kick would be all that was needed to gain entry. Surely Mrs. Danforth had called the police by now. Unless she was sleeping. And it’s not like she could hear anyway.

  She had no idea who the men were invading her home, but her best guess was they were sent by Emilio Cordova. Apparently, he wasn’t too confident in her accepting his request to meet in Baltra.

  Tess let out a scream as a large boot crashed through one of the bedroom windows. Miller’s beautiful, beveled, hundred-year-old windows. She was going to kill someone.

  “Hold this,” Miller said, shoving her laptop into Tess’s hands, and she ran to her nightstand, where she kept her .9mm.

  Her hands weren’t as steady as she’d have liked them to be. But it wasn’t like she was one of the heroines she wrote about in her books. Stuff like this didn’t happen in real life. She’d taken the
gun classes for research. She’d never expected to actually use the thing.

  By the time she got the gun out of the drawer and pointed at the window, Deacon was standing there holding Tess in his arms and Elias was right behind him clearing shards of glass out of the way.

  “Let’s roll, Annie Oakley,” Elias said. “Axel and Levi are kicking ass downstairs, but we need to get out of here so they can do a clean sweep. The last thing we need is the sheriff breathing down our necks.”

  “You climbed up my tree,” Miller said, dumbfounded. Elias took her wrist and easily disarmed her. She’d forgotten she even had the gun in her hand.

  “Yep, and we’re going to climb right back down and run like hell to my place.”

  “Why are Levi and Axel kicking ass downstairs?” she asked. “Someone should call the police. You broke my beveled window. That’s going to be a bitch to replace. I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  “They were spying on us,” Tess said, narrowing a look at her husband.

  “Good thing too, sugar,” Deacon said. “Or y’all would be in a hell of a lot of trouble right now.”

  “We’re going to talk about this later,” Tess said.

  Footsteps were loud in the hallway, and something big banged against the wall and dropped to the floor. Miller was guessing a body.

  “Let’s go,” Elias said again.

  “The letters,” she said, running toward the closet to grab the small shoe box she kept of Justin’s letters.

  Her bedroom door shook as someone rammed against it, but the frame held.

  “They don’t make things like they used to,” Deacon said. “That’s a good, solid door.”

  Miller felt like she was in the middle of a weird dream—the kind where nothing but chaos flitted in and out of the subconscious until you woke up wondering what the hell had just happened and if you’d had too much to drink the night before. Which maybe she had, though usually half a bottle of wine didn’t affect her quite like this.

  Elias was back out the window in a flash and straddling one of the larger tree branches with his hands held out to her.

  “Come on,” he said. “I’m going to swing you down to one of the lower branches. Just wait for me there and I’ll help you get the rest of the way down.”

  She looked to the grassy area below and felt her heart jump in her chest. Gnarled roots of the old tree stuck up from the ground. It was a long way down, and it was going to hurt if she fell. Heights weren’t her favorite thing.

  She tried to say something sarcastic to cover her fear, but all the spit had dried up in her mouth. She felt the push behind her, and Deacon all but picked her up and tossed her out the window to Elias. He grabbed hold of her hands, and just like he’d said, he swung her down to a lower branch.

  She didn’t have time to catch her breath before Tess was right next to her, her pale skin like a beacon in the darkness.

  “Where’s my computer?” Miller whispered.

  “Deacon’s got it,” Tess said. “He almost left it behind, but I told him you’d kill him very slowly and painfully.”

  Miller let out a shaky breath and squeezed Tess’s hand. It was all she could do. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been so terrified in her life.

  “Down,” Elias said, putting an arm around her and lifting her when he needed to as they shimmied down the tree.

  She heard nothing but breaking glass and chaos from inside the house, and she was devastated at the thought of what would be left of her home when the smoke cleared.

  “Damn, it sounds like they’ve got a real fight on their hands,” Elias said.

  And the man almost seemed giddy about it. As if he wanted to run back inside and join them.

  “I know,” Deacon said, sounding a little disappointed himself. “It’s been a while since we had a good hand-to-hand.”

  “I feel like I’m being pretty patient here, but I’ll ask again,” Miller said. “Who the hell are you people? This is freaking Last Stop, and sexy gravediggers don’t just bust into houses like G.I. Joe and save the day.”

  “Sexy?” Elias asked.

  Miller couldn’t keep a coherent thought in her head. This was so far out of her comfort zone she wasn’t sure where reality started and stopped. This kind of action in real life was nothing like her books. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to hyperventilate or vomit.

  “Oh God,” she said. “Mrs. Danforth is going to hate me after this. She’ll say I’m bringing down the property value on the street.”

  “She already thinks you’re eccentric and weird,” Elias said. “And you’ll give everyone something to talk about in the morning. Now get that fine ass in gear and start running.”

  He pushed her forward and she ran. She didn’t have another choice. The apartments where he lived were only a couple of blocks away, and she wasn’t at all surprised he took them through people’s yards and through concealed areas instead of staying along the street side.

  “Thank God for my treadmill,” she said, feeling her lungs burn as she ran at a full sprint.

  She was happy to note that she maintained pace with Elias. Tess and Deacon were right behind them, and she could hear Tess’s occasional curse, which would’ve normally made her smile. Tess hated running. Or really, any kind of cardio workout. Which was why she stuck strictly to yoga.

  The only apartment complex in Last Stop wasn’t exactly prime real estate. It was dimly lit, and the beige building was a long rectangle of three floors, with an alleyway and stairs right down the middle.

  Elias lived on the bottom floor in a corner unit at the back of the building, and it was darker there than anywhere else, as if he’d purposefully put everything in darkness. She wouldn’t have felt at all comfortable knowing that anyone could be lurking in the shadows while she was inside, but maybe Elias didn’t worry so much about that since anyone who broke into his place would have to be a complete idiot.

  Elias didn’t lead them to his door, but instead he hit the keyless entry on a black pickup truck that was parked at the back of the lot. Miller rarely saw him driving the truck. He woke early and ran for several miles before going into the funeral home for work. He showered and dressed for the day there, at least according to Tess after she’d casually asked. He had no need for the truck unless he was going out of town. Not that she’d admit how she knew his schedule so well, but she made it a habit to peek out her office window in the mornings as he ran by with his shirt off. Though, to be fair, Mrs. Danforth always seemed to be out on her front porch drinking her coffee when he ran by too.

  Elias had backed his truck into the parking spot, and it reminded her of Justin. He was always paranoid about being able to get out quickly if the need arose. She guessed for SEALs, the need probably arose more often than it would for a romance writer, but it seemed a bit paranoid for a gravedigger.

  He clicked the key fob and the lights flashed twice, and he hoisted her into the backseat of the cab before she could tell him she was fully capable of doing it herself. Tess climbed in the other side next to her, and Deacon got in the front.

  Elias put the truck in gear and was moving out of the parking lot before they got their doors closed.

  “Wait! Where’s my laptop?” she asked, unable to keep the panic from her voice.

  “Relax,” Elias said, passing the thin silver rectangle back to her. “It’s just a computer. You can replace it.”

  “You couldn’t possibly understand how ridiculous a statement that is,” she said, taking it gingerly and putting it in her lap. “This is my lifeblood. There’s nothing replaceable about it. I’ve got less than a week to finish this book. I’d have let those bastards take me before I left the computer in the house to be destroyed at their hands.”

  “That’s a little dramatic,” Elias said.

  “You try being on deadline and having a hundred pages left to write in a week, and tell me how dramatic you are.”

  “All right, crazy lady,” he said. She could practically feel his e
ye roll from the backseat.

  “We going in the back way?” Deacon asked.

  “That’s probably best,” Tess said. “It’s almost the middle of the night. We’ll draw more attention to ourselves if it looks like there’s a lot of activity at the funeral home. Cal’s not an idiot.”

  Cal Dougherty was the town sheriff, and he definitely wasn’t an idiot. He was a hometown boy who’d gone off and spent some time in the military and did several years at a big-city police department before moving home and winning the coveted sheriff’s position. And while he wasn’t an idiot, he had limited resources and even more limited experienced officers, so that worked in their favor.

  “He’s not nearly as interested in what’s going on at the funeral home now that you’re married,” Deacon said to his wife.

  “Will someone explain what’s happening here?” Miller asked again. “Anyone can answer. Really. I don’t care who the explanation comes from.” Then she turned to Tess and said, “And why do you seem to know so much? What’s the back way? Who are these people?”

  “Lord, you ask a lot of questions,” Elias said.

  “I’m a writer. You’ll get used to it,” she shot back.

  They sped along bumpy back roads to the outskirts of Last Stop and took a sharp right onto a graveled one-lane road. There was an electric gate in front of them, but before she could squeeze her eyes closed in fear of hitting it, it swung open and they drove right through.

  “Look on the bright side,” Deacon said. “At least the two of you are speaking again.”

  Miller narrowed her eyes at him. “He just flung me down a tree like Tarzan and his chimpanzees. I’m about to start speaking a whole lot.”

  “Team Alpha to Bravo,” Deacon said into the high-tech watch at his wrist. “Status report.”

  “Copy, Alpha. Scene is secure. One Tango in custody. Five others in flight. Looked like a simple snatch and grab. They’re all carrying tranq guns. Sirens on the way. We’ve got your vehicle and will circle around. ETA fifteen minutes to HQ.”

  “Copy,” Deacon said. “On our way.”