Gavin, the dark-haired jokester who could talk football for hours. Justin, the flashy dresser who loved fishing and worked two jobs. Trish, a social butterfly eager at the prospect of going away to college; Fiona, sensitive, older than her years, a punster. And Helen herself, academically driven, a pleaser, ridiculously happy to be included in the harebrained outing. None of them had the vaguest notion that within hours, their lives would change forever. She realized she was shaking.

  “Let’s take it back to the lodge,” Mitch suggested. “Find a private place and scrutinize it properly.”

  “How about I save you the trouble?”

  They all jerked toward the voice. Kyle Burnette’s head popped up as he climbed another rung on the ladder until his torso came into view. Helen’s throat closed up in terror as she spotted the gun in his hands, aimed straight at her heart.

  “Hand it over,” he said with a grin.

  * * *

  Teeth clenched, Sergio berated himself for not hearing Burnette’s approach. He could tell Mitch and Chad were doing the same. They’d all been so focused on the photo book. Burnette had probably gotten in just behind them and hidden amongst the equipment on the lower level. How had he known they’d be looking in the old barn? Good old-fashioned surveillance, Sergio figured. He’d likely snuck onto lodge property again and been watching.

  “There’s nothing in these photos,” Sergio growled. He edged a step closer, but Burnette waved the gun at him.

  “Don’t. I can’t miss at this range. Hand me the book.”

  Helen clutched the volume to her chest. “It’s just some high school pictures. Why do you want it?”

  “I’m being paid to want it.” He waggled the gun. “Now.”

  Sergio saw Chad slowly raising his arm and he realized he was holding an old trophy. He was going to launch it at Burnette. But what if Burnette got off a shot first? Sergio had to make sure Helen was not in the line of fire.

  “Who are you working for?” Mitch snapped.

  Burnette didn’t move, but his attention was drawn, just as Mitch had no doubt intended. Sergio shuffled forward another few inches, now level with Helen’s shoulder.

  “I’m not here to talk. The book,” Burnette ordered. “’Cuz bullets hurt, in case you aren’t clear on that point.” He fingered the trigger and stared at Sergio. “If you take another step I’ll shoot her.” Sergio felt a river of pure unadulterated rage gush through him like a riptide, tugging his good sense away.

  “That is the last thing you want to do.” His tone was so guttural, he did not recognize his own voice. Chad had now raised the trophy up enough to manage a throw. As he let it loose, Sergio dove in front of Helen, knocking her to the floor.

  The trophy sailed over Burnette’s head and he fired the gun, the bullet burying itself into a wooden beam behind them. He’d readjusted to shoot again when there was a sound of movement below. Sergio could not see who it was.

  Burnette jerked a look around, losing his hold on the ladder. With a startled cry he plummeted backward. Sergio scrambled away from Helen and peered down below, Mitch and Chad right after him.

  Gavin and Justin were staring at Burnette’s body, splayed awkward and still on top of a wooden pallet.

  TWENTY

  “He has a gun,” Mitch shouted down, but Sergio did not figure Burnette was in any shape to use it. Mitch and Chad descended the ladder and he turned back to Helen, who was on her feet now, photo book still clutched to her body, mouth slack with horror.

  “Are you okay?” he said.

  She nodded, and forgetting his earlier resolve, he pressed her close, brushing his lips to her temple, smoothing her hair. “Thank God for that.” He meant every word, he realized in that moment. He could withstand the heartache of losing Fiona, the angst of parental failure and the loss of his career, but he would not be able to shoulder the sorrow that would ruin him if Helen was killed.

  Is it worth it? This dangerous mission you’re on? Is it worth risking your life and Helen’s? Would the taste of revenge satisfy him if the unthinkable happened? He pushed the thoughts from his mind and buried his face in the sweet scent of her hair and held her close, their erratic breathing mingling until Mitch called up from below.

  “Ambulance is rolling. It’s secure down here.”

  Helen tensed and looked at Sergio, lips still pinched in fear. “Is he...?”

  “Not sure. We’ll find out.”

  She gave him a brave nod as they peered down below. Chad was kneeling next to Burnette. It looked as though Mitch had found the gun and eased it away with his boot.

  He felt her trembling as he took her hand. “Let’s get you down from this loft before the police arrive.”

  She nodded and he guided her toward the ladder. “I’ll go first. You sure you’re okay to do this now?”

  She sucked in a breath and tucked the photo book into her waistband to free up her hands for the descent. “I’ll be a lot better if these pictures will bring this to an end.”

  “I’ll second that.” Sergio climbed down, keeping an eye on Helen to be sure she was steady as she took the rungs.

  “What is going on?” Gavin said. His gelled hair gleamed in the electric light. “Why were you up there? What happened?”

  Justin’s startled gaze wandered from the fallen Burnette to the book Helen was pulling from her waistband. “Allyson told us you asked about a photo book Fiona made back in high school. Is that it?”

  Helen nodded and all of them looked at Burnette, who was breathing, eyes closed as the distant wail of a siren split the air.

  “And this guy was out to get it too,” Gavin said, more a statement than a question. “I wonder why.”

  “Why are you two here?” Sergio said, cutting off her answer.

  “We saw you all walking this way and we were curious about what you were doing,” Gavin said. “Allyson told us you were trying to search the tunnels. We wanted to help end this thing.”

  “Help?” Sergio didn’t bother to keep the doubt from his voice.

  Gavin’s hands went to his hips. “Yeah, help.”

  “Do you know this guy?” Sergio said, pointing to Burnette.

  Justin shook his head.

  Gavin frowned. “Why would I?”

  Sergio discounted Gavin’s look of confusion, which might be pure artifice. “He hangs out at the dive shop where you rented the fishing poles.”

  “So because I happen to rent fishing poles from the only dive shop in town you suspect me of being in collusion with him?” Gavin gestured to Burnette.

  “Easy now,” Justin said. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Yes, he did,” Gavin spat, dark color staining his cheeks. “Same old same old since we were in high school. I’ve had enough of being accused. A girl dies fifteen years ago, and I’m a suspect now too?”

  Justin held up a hand but Gavin’s face contorted in anger.

  “I wanted to help, but I see that was a mistake. I’m going back to the lodge. My wife told me not to come to Driftwood for this conference, and she was right. I’ll always be seen as a criminal here.” He shot a look at Justin. “We both will no matter how much time passes.” He stalked out of the barn as two medics jogged in. Evonne ran in on their heels. She clasped Helen around the shoulders and the two women stepped into the shadows as the medics began to work on Burnette.

  Justin rubbed his eyes. “Don’t be too hard on Gavin. He’s tied in knots about his wife giving birth. It’s all starting to hit home, I think. There are...” He cleared his throat and winced. “Some money issues. He’s had to sell a parcel of land. Ranching’s a money pit.” He jutted his chin at Mitch and Chad. “You fellas know that firsthand. Even harder on the smaller operations.”

  “No doubt about that.” Chad edged back to let the paramedics work, his attention swiveling between Burnette and Helen who rejoined them as Evonne left. “I asked her to announce to the guests there’s been an accident and to stay inside the lodge.” She frowned. “Gavin left?”

  “He needs some space.” Justin watched the medics load Burnette onto a stretcher. “Is he going to make it?”

  The medic adjusted the straps. “We’ll transport him quick as we can. Hospital can update you.”

  Farraday entered, looking guarded, Sergio thought. Mitch brought him up to speed.

  “The memory book,” Farraday said. “Anything in there of use?”

  Helen sighed. “Burnette showed up before I had a chance to look through it thoroughly.”

  Farraday pursed his lips and blew out a breath. “And you won’t, until I’ve finished with it.” There was a satisfied edge to his tone which prickled Sergio’s nerves.

  “I’ll be taking it.”

  Sergio gaped. “She has a right to look through it, Farraday. It’s her property.”

  “No,” he said, every syllable clipped. “It’s evidence at a crime scene.”

  “You could give her a few minutes.” Mitch’s anger blazed across his face.

  Farraday smiled, but there was no humor in it. “I don’t think so. You’ve been hounding me, implying I haven’t taken the new info on the Fiona Ross murder seriously, practically accusing me of botching the Trish O’Brian case...”

  “You did botch it.” Sergio could not keep the simmering ire in check any longer. “We’ve seen the case files. No pictures, a paltry excuse for a written report. We all know...”

  Mitch’s warning look cut through his tirade, but Farraday was already flush-cheeked with anger, his breaths coming in spurts through his nose. “All right then. In light of your concern about my procedures, this time, I’ll make sure to dot the i’s and cross the t’s. I’ll start by taking that memory book, since it seems like Burnette was so hot to get his hands on it, and you’re all going to get out of here right now so we can photograph every square inch of this crime scene.”

  “Chief Farraday, we’re not trying to make you look bad...” Helen started.

  “Oh, yeah? Well you know what? You did. When you went to Danny Patron over my head and got permission to get into those tunnels, that didn’t exactly cement my reputation as a crime fighter.” He crooked a finger. “The photo book. Now.”

  Helen grimaced. “I sent it with Evonne. It’s in the lodge.”

  “Call her,” he said, spittle collecting at the corner of his mouth.

  Helen pulled out her cell phone and spoke to Evonne. They waited in strained silence until she arrived with the album and a look of puzzlement. Farraday took it without comment.

  “Perfect,” he said, nodding to another officer who began to photograph the barn. “All of you get out. Wait outside for us to take your statements.” A flicker twisted his mouth. “We’ll try to get to you as soon as we can, but all this meticulous police work takes a lot of time.”

  Fury crackled in Sergio’s gut as they filed outside. It was dusk, the sky backlit behind streaks of copper clouds. Evonne returned to her duties.

  Another police car arrived with two officers aboard and Sergio was separated from the others and asked for his statement. It seemed like hours passed before they were allowed to return to the barn. They gathered at a table in the empty reception room for cups of coffee.

  None of them talked much. There had been no word from the hospital until Danny Patron called and Mitch put him on speakerphone.

  “You’ve gotten yourselves into another mess,” he said.

  “’Fraid so. And we’ve angered Farraday.”

  “Embarrassed him, so I’m not surprised.” Danny paused. “My daughter is doing great, but I can’t return for another few weeks, until she’s stronger.”

  Sergio figured it must be hard for a cop to hand his town over to another, but worrying about that had to take second to his concern for his daughter’s health. “I’m pleased to hear she’s improving,” Sergio said.

  He sighed. “Me too. We’ve been on our knees praying until we’ve worn out our pant legs, but at long last it looks like she’s going to make it.”

  Helen sighed. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time, Danny.”

  Patron hesitated. “I’m afraid I’ve got some that’s not so good.”

  Sergio braced himself.

  “I checked with the hospital,” he said. “Burnette is in a coma. No telling when and if he’s going to pull out of it.”

  Sergio felt like howling.

  “Sorry to end on that note, but I’ve gotta go.”

  They thanked him, and Mitch disconnected.

  “We are no closer to finding out who Burnette was working for,” Sergio groaned. “And now we’ve lost the memory book too.”

  “Not exactly.”

  They all stared at Helen.

  “What do you mean, not exactly?” Sergio said.

  “We don’t have the original.” Helen toyed with the slender chain around her neck. “I just had a feeling when I sent the book with Evonne that something might happen to it, with all the things that have gone on around here.”

  “Helen,” Sergio said slowly, “what did you do?”

  “I asked Evonne to scan the photos and put them in the safe.”

  It was all he could do not to sweep her up in an exuberant bear hug. “You are a genius,” he said.

  She blushed. “Some people would not describe my obsessive tendencies quite so nicely.”

  Sergio stood and offered her his hand. “Don’t you think it’s about time to look through those photos?”

  “Past time, I’d say.”

  Hope stirred his pulse, or maybe it was the feel of her hand in his as they hurried toward the front desk.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Helen spread the papers out on the table. The scanned photos were clear, and she was glad she’d invested in a top-of-the-line machine that did the job so well. Mitch, Chad and Sergio arranged themselves at the table, taking the pages one by one after she’d scrutinized them.

  Evonne even brought a magnifying glass. The diner photo was first in the album, followed by some close-ups of the girls making faces at the camera. Fiona had not included any other shots of that night. The rest were of the funeral, the guests, the beautiful eight-by-ten of Trish displayed on an easel, the dozens of flower arrangements. What followed were some older snapshots of their high school days. Trish in her cheer outfit, Fiona dressed as the school mascot in a lumpy bear costume, side hugging Gavin in his football gear. One image showed Justin displaying a tiny fish on a hook, Gavin standing next to him, giving him a goofy thumbs down. The last shot was a family photo which she had no idea how Fiona had gotten hold of. Trish and her sister stood on either side of their parents. They were perhaps ten and fourteen at the time, Allyson sporting braces and Trish had the put-upon look of adolescence.

  She pored over each photo before passing them on to the men. They kept at it until their necks ached and her eyes were burning. What could Fiona have seen in the pictures that proved to be her death sentence?

  “The back?” Mitch suggested. “Maybe something’s written on the flip side of the photos?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Helen felt a surge of excitement and quickly summoned Evonne.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I took them all out of the plastic sleeves when I scanned them, and there was nothing on the backs.”

  Helen sighed. Another dead end. She kept circling back to the first photo, the one of them in the diner right before their tunnel excursion. There had to be something she was missing, a tiny clue that detail-oriented Fiona had picked up on.

  Her head began to throb, and no answers came.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally said when the old grandfather clock in the lobby chimed eight. “I’ll keep looking, but you don’t all have to stay and watch me.”

  Sergio sat back and she read the disappointment in his expression. “That’s enough for now anyway. It’s been a long day. Maybe something will occur to you after some sleep.”

  But he didn’t sound hopeful as she gathered up the pages. Mitch went to get Jingles and Chad waited for her to go upstairs.

  “I just need some fresh air,” she said to Chad.

  When he started to argue she touched him gently on the arm. “Just to the front porch.”

  “And I’ll go with her,” Sergio said.

  Chad looked as if he was still going to fuss, but instead he checked the time. “Okay. A short trip outside won’t hurt. If you’re not inside in fifteen, I’m coming to find you.”

  “Yes, warden,” she said, teasing.

  He didn’t reply so she kissed him good night and stepped out onto the porch.

  “Little brother is on duty,” Sergio said with a tired laugh. “How much longer until Liam arrives to join forces?”

  “He lands tomorrow, I think.”

  Sergio nodded. “Good. The more brothers, the safer you are.”

  Thinking of the attack in her room, along with the crash on the cliffs, she wondered if she would ever be safe again. Whoever was paying Burnette was still roaming free.

  But she was not going to give up, because she had a frightening feeling that Sergio was about to try one more risky undertaking in the tunnels.

  And she had to find a way to stop him.

  * * *

  Sergio tried not to let his massive disappointment show. He allowed the chill evening air to revive him, scented with eucalyptus and the aroma of the coffee perking in the lobby. Across the way he saw Betty walk by the cabin window, probably getting the girls ready for bed. It hit him like a brick to the face how close Betty and the girls were to the place where Burnette had fired his weapon. For a moment, he could hardly get a breath. It was awful enough that Helen had stared down the barrel of a gun, but what if a stray bullet had found its way to the girls... He shut down the thought that made his blood run cold. No more, he decided then and there.

 

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