Gone to Dust

by Liliana Hart

  “I think you wouldn’t be so mad at me if I’d made you come that night,” he said. “All that anger is nothing more than pent-up sexual frustration.”

  Her eyes snapped back to his and she took a step back. “Wow, your ego must be super heavy to carry around all the time.” She leaned a little closer and kept her voice low, because she’d noticed it had gotten awfully quiet in the other room. “And just so you know,” she said, the corner of her mouth quirking in a smile, “I didn’t need you to make myself come that night. I managed just fine on my own.”

  “Liar,” he said, but she sensed the change in him, and she would’ve bet money he was hard as a rock thinking about her pleasuring herself. “Left you hot and bothered, did I?”

  “More like lukewarm and irritated,” she said, taking another step back.

  She needed to get herself under control. She didn’t know what his game was, but he’d obviously made up his mind that he didn’t want to sleep with her, while at the same time he’d decided to insert himself back in her life with Justin’s disappearance.

  He poured her a mug of coffee and then one for himself. “Sure, baby,” he said, handing her a mug. “Whatever you say. Cream is in the fridge.”

  He started to walk off, but she said, “Thank you, but I drink my coffee black. And, look, let’s just forget about what happened between us. It was meaningless.” She smiled what was known in the South as her company smile, and she felt pleasure as his eyes narrowed.

  Her smile turned into a look of sympathy and she patted his shoulder. “And bless your heart, you shouldn’t worry about or be embarrassed by what happened. Some men just can’t perform. I hear it’s a very common problem.”

  She turned and walked out of the kitchen, and she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head. “Oh, thanks for the coffee,” she called over her shoulder.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Miller had mistakenly thought that sitting at the conference table next to Tess would make things feel more normal. But in reality, she felt like she’d been placed in the middle of someone else’s story, and she was waiting to see what was going to happen next.

  She didn’t know any of the men who worked for Tess well, though she’d spent her fair share of time ogling them with the rest of the women in town. When men like that dropped into a place like Last Stop, people were bound to notice.

  Before Tess and Deacon had married, the men had been a great source of entertainment, especially at the Clip n’ Curl, which was pretty much gossip central for Last Stop.The women in town were relentless in their pursuit of Tess’s five sexy gravediggers, coming up with outrageous stories and opportunities just to be in the same vicinity.

  Dorothy Whitmire hid behind the trash cans at the funeral home one morning and then jumped behind the Hummer as it was backing out of the driveway. The way she carried on and lay down in the driveway, you’d have thought they’d backed over her at full speed. And she’d almost hyperventilated when Axel picked her up and brought her inside the funeral home.

  Tess had told her Dorothy’s behavior had been shameful, the way she kept undressing them all with her eyes. And she wouldn’t let Axel put her down. Thank goodness Tess’s grandmother had come in and summed up the situation pretty quickly, because she told Dorothy she was making a fool of herself, and that she should let Axel put her down because it looked like she’d put on a lot of weight. Tatiana Sherman didn’t suffer fools lightly.

  Since Tess and Deacon’s marriage, the relentless pursuit of the remaining bachelors had grown to unknown heights. As Wanda Carmichael had so rudely stated, “If someone like Tess Sherman can bag a hottie like Deacon Tucker, then there is hope for us all.”

  Miller’s feelings toward Wanda had never been very warm—not since high school, when Wanda had entertained herself and most of the other students by the lies she wrote on the bathroom stalls. And Miller had killed off someone in one of her books who looked and acted suspiciously like Wanda, though she’d go to her grave denying it.

  Miller had a tendency to stand back and observe people in their natural habitat. Their quirks, sayings, facial expressions, and the way they talked about other people fascinated her. It’s how she researched characters in her books. So she’d always seen herself as outside the fray of fascination when it came to the men. Or maybe it was just because her close friendship with Tess gave her everyday access that most people didn’t have. Either way, she’d gotten to know them since they’d arrived. At least, as well as they allowed themselves to be known by anyone.

  And now, to find out they weren’t what everyone believed was just mind-boggling. Though she had to say it made a hell of a lot more sense now that she knew the truth. The Gravediggers. She supposed the name was apt enough since they did, in fact, dig graves for Tess, along with a myriad of other interesting jobs that required latex gloves. Tess was going to have a lot of explaining to do once she got her alone.

  Miller looked at the larger-than-life men sitting around the conference table. They dwarfed her and Tess, and she wondered how they breathed with all the raging testosterone. The fight had obviously been a good one, as Axel and Levi both had a few cuts and bruises already forming, and they’d recounted the action that the other two had missed in a pretty graphic play-by-play.

  Levi Wolffe was the newest recruit to Last Stop, and Miller had only seen him a handful of times in the past couple of months. He was the one Elias had said was an expert at getting information out of people. She shuddered to think how, exactly, he went about getting that information. But looking at him now, it was hard to imagine. He was quiet and watchful, his soft brown eyes taking in every movement and every word. He was tall and lean, but powerfully built. He was the most classically handsome of all the men. Between his chiseled face and body, swarthy skin, and dark eyes, he’d given the ladies of Last Stop a whole lot to talk about since his arrival.

  Because she was observant, she’d also noticed he didn’t quite see himself as part of the team yet. He held himself off from the others, sat pushed slightly back from the table so he could see everyone—a part of the group, but not really. He didn’t joke or banter with the others. He was there to do a job, and nothing more.

  She’d gotten to be friendly with Axel Tate. He’d been around almost as long as Deacon, and he seemed to be second-in-command. He looked to be a few years older than the others, and had a maturity and wisdom that seemed ingrained.

  His Australian accent slipped out the longer he was in conversation with someone, and he reminded her a bit of an untamed lion. He moved like a predator, smooth and graceful for someone of his size. He was built like a brawler and had the inherent good looks that most she’d met from down under seemed to share. It was a country of beautiful people. And if you could get past the heartbreaking sadness in his eyes, the clearness of the blue would take your breath away.

  He’d always been friendly, and whenever she’d run across him the last couple of years he’d always been busy doing something. He was one of those types of men who couldn’t stand to be idle. It was also curious that of the five of them, he was the only one who wore a wedding ring, though she’d never heard him speak of his wife. It was something she planned to ask Tess about later.

  “We need to decide how we’re going to extract Justin from the islands,” Deacon said. “I think we’ll all agree that going in full force is going to put us in unnecessary danger. Those islands and the surrounding areas are cartel owned. We’d be flying into the lion’s den.”

  “A one-man operation would be enough,” Axel said. “Slip in and out as a tourist. Extract Darling and we’d pick you both up in one of the stealth aircraft.”

  “It’s doable,” Elias said. “It’s just figuring out where he is.”

  “Which is why it’s going to be a two-man operation instead of a one-man operation,” Miller said. “I’m going too.”

  Elias looked at her and then back at Deacon. “I’ll pass,” he said. “Anyone here is capable of going and getting th
e job done.”

  Miller tried not to let it sting that he’d rejected her. Again. The level of dislike he had for her was unexplainable.

  “I’m grateful for the help from anyone,” she said, the hit to her pride making her voice stiff.

  “I hope you mean that,” Deacon said. “Because it’s going to be Elias. No one has experience on the water like he does. And this is a mission where saving a few seconds in the water might make a difference between life and death.”

  “I said I pass,” Elias said again.

  “You don’t always get to make that choice,” Deacon said. “There’s no one better to go find a SEAL than another SEAL. Justin is going to use the water to his advantage, just like you would. And it’d be easier for the two of you to slip under the radar of Cordova’s men, posing as a couple, than it would for you to go alone.”

  “Nope, nope, nope,” Elias said, shaking his head. “She’s a romance writer, for Christ’s sake. She’s never even been out of the country. What’s she going to do if we get shot at or get stranded in the jungle? Write her way out of it?”

  “Hey, I’m not an idiot,” Miller said. “Just because I haven’t experienced the same kinds of things you have doesn’t mean I don’t have the knowledge. Besides, you’re going to need me to find Justin. He left clues to the treasure in his last letter to me.”

  “You keep assuming I’m going to be with you,” he said. “I can assure you I’m not.” Then he turned back to Deacon. “I can’t spend a couple of weeks in close quarters with her. She’s inexperienced and she could get us both killed. I’ll go in alone or not at all.”

  Before Deacon had a chance to respond, there was a series of beeps and the coded door that led back toward the tunnel opened and Dante Malcolm stepped into the room. He didn’t look happy to be there.

  He was dressed in what looked like a cashmere sweater and a pair of charcoal slacks. He’d obviously had plans for the evening that had been interrupted. He looked at the group of them sitting around the table, and then his gaze landed on her.

  “This should be interesting,” he said, brows raised. “But hardly worth pulling me in for.”

  “Are you familiar with Emilio Cordova?” Deacon asked.

  “Drug lord,” he answered. “He’s taken over most of the day-to-day operation from the Black Widow. If I recall, her health has declined in the last year or so, and she doesn’t trust her son enough to hand over the reins. Cordova dabbles in a little bit of everything, including weapons and priceless artifacts.”

  “Which would certainly explain his obsession with finding King Solomon’s table,” Axel said.

  “Well,” Dante said. “Now you have my attention.”

  Miller had always had an instinct about people, and rarely was she ever wrong. But there was something about Dante that wasn’t quite as it seemed. He was more polished than the others—more practiced. His accent was British and his attire and manners always impeccable.

  He wore three-thousand-dollar shoes and business suits that could pay a year’s rent for most families in Last Stop. He was handsome and he knew it, and of all the men, he was always ready to flash a smile at an adoring woman. He was too practiced. Too … calculating. And there was part of her that didn’t trust him.

  Deacon took a few minutes to bring him up to speed, and no one interrupted this time when he mentioned the idea of her and Elias traveling to the Galápagos Islands to retrieve her brother, and possibly the treasure.

  “Ahh, well,” Dante said. “I knew it was too good to be true. We’ll never get approval for this. You all know as well as I do that this is outside the scope of our parameters. It’s best left for a paid-for-hire contractor. Finding Justin Darling isn’t a threat to the world as we know it.”

  “Or maybe someone should step up because she’s our friend and that’s what friends do,” Tess said, the anger vibrating in her voice. Her skin was flushed and her red hair practically sizzled.

  “I’m not disagreeing with you about friendship, darling,” Dante said, giving Miller a nod. “My statements are based in reality. Eve will never approve an op like this, nor will she fund it.”

  “The men who broke into her house tonight were professionals,” Deacon said. “They’re a threat, and they could become a bigger threat. Once Levi is finished with the one we have in detainment, we’ll know more about their purpose. We need to find out as much as we can about the mess Justin has gotten himself in. What’s the story on this table he supposedly stole?”

  “He didn’t steal anything,” Miller said.

  “That’s why I said ‘supposedly,’ ” Deacon said. “It’s admirable to defend your brother, but he’s not in this situation because he did everything on the up-and-up. He’s a SEAL, so he can handle himself in most situations, but dragging his sister into it is dangerous and shows a serious lack of forethought.”

  Elias snorted again, but Miller ignored it. There were large screens on the walls, and Miller jumped when they came on by themselves and a woman’s face graced the screen. She was beautiful. Her Asian heritage was strong in her bones, and her jet-black hair was pulled back starkly off her face. It didn’t detract from her beauty, but enhanced it. Her lips were slicked red, and despite the fact it was after midnight, she wore a black suit. She had on no jewelry, but she didn’t need it. It wasn’t until Miller looked into her eyes that she realized beauty was only skin deep.

  She’d never cowered before anyone. But there was something about the woman on the screen that made Miller want to take her chances with Emilio Cordova and the men she’d just evaded.

  “Eve,” Deacon said, settling back in his chair. “Sorry to interrupt your sleep.”

  “I was up,” she said coolly.

  The tension in the room had ratcheted up about a hundred degrees with the appearance of Eve Winter, but by outward appearances, no one would know it.

  “Status report,” she said.

  “At approximately seventeen hundred hours, a package was delivered to Miller Darling’s door containing the finger of a male, possibly her brother. We later confirmed it when we ran the prints. Darling’s classified military files came up, so there could be a possible flag at the Pentagon.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” she said. “Continue.”

  “Also inside the box was a handwritten letter from Emilio Cordova. It seems he feels Justin Darling stole a priceless artifact from him, so he’s sending little pieces of Justin to his sister in hopes she can help recover the missing treasure. He’s been searching for close to twenty years. He must want it pretty bad, and Darling is all that stands in his way.”

  “I’m familiar with Cordova,” Eve said. “He doesn’t get out of bed unless he knows he’ll make close to eight figures, so yes, I’d say he must want it pretty bad. Working for the Black Widow has treated him well. I can think of very few artifacts that would fall into the eight-figure category.”

  “Rumor is Darling has a piece of King Solomon’s table,” Deacon said.

  “And for a man like Cordova,” Eve interjected, “a piece won’t be enough. I’m familiar with the legend. Without the entire table, its power is impotent.”

  “I’m sure Cordova is trying his best to convince Justin to talk. It’d be hard to put a number value on something like that, but it would far surpass his standard eight figures. Justin sent a letter to his sister separately, and we believe it contains clues on where to find the treasure. We currently have the letters and Justin Darling’s ring in our possession for testing.”

  “That’s all fascinating,” she said, “but the last I checked we’re not treasure hunters.”

  “No, but a group of cartel members using military tactics and equipment descended on Last Stop tonight. We were able to defuse the situation and rescue Justin’s sister, and take one of the attackers captive for questioning. Local police are currently looking into the damage, but they have no leads and nothing to go on. We’ll take care of dealing with them.”

  “Good,” she sai
d. “Then I’m not sure why I’m wasting my time here. It seems Justin Darling can reap the consequences of his actions. Quests for glory and treasure rarely lead to staying alive. There’s always someone out there who is more dangerous and who wants it more. It sounds as if Emilio Cordova wants it more.”

  “If the table ends up in Cordova’s hands, then it will definitely become our problem,” Axel said. “Because if what legend says is true, then Cordova and the Black Widow will become the kind of evil that’s rarely defeated.”

  “That’s all fascinating,” Eve said, “and I’m sure we’ll deal with Cordova at some point or another, but as of now, neither Cordova nor the Black Widow are in our line of sight. There is no mission where they’re concerned.”

  Her black eyes met each face around the table, but they skimmed over Miller as if she weren’t there. “What I’d like to know is why you’ve brought this woman into HQ? We keep secrets for a reason. Her life and her choices are her own, and they have nothing to do with the missions you’re currently assigned, nor the ones you’ll have in the future. By rescuing her instead of letting Cordova’s men take her and the situation resolve itself, you’ve put the organization at risk. And that’s unacceptable.”

  “Bullshit,” Elias said, coming to his feet, his knuckles resting on the table. “We’re not monsters. It’s not our job to let innocent people suffer because it doesn’t fall in line with the mission.”

  “You don’t answer to your conscience, Agent Cole. You answer to me. And you answer to The Directors. Sometimes the few must suffer for the majority. It’s the way of war.”

  “It’s also the way of assholes. We do our job here. We do it better than anyone else in the world could hope to. You think Cordova is going to stop hunting her because she managed to escape his men tonight? What about the fact that Tess was with her? Are we supposed to let one of our own die, anyone die, because it doesn’t fit within the parameters of the mission?”

  “He won’t kill her,” Eve said coldly. “At least not until he has what he wants from her. The Gravediggers are not babysitters. Put her through debriefing, erase her memory of the events, and then set her free. I won’t give the same orders twice.”