Page List


Font:  

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Miramar, Mallorca

December 14

The March Villa was quiet when Cam walked in the front door at half-past nine. He walked through the empty house and into his bedroom. Candlelight on the terrace caught his eye.

He stood in the doorway and spotted Gemini, sitting at the small table in a black negligee. Other than the color she wore, the setting felt like deja vu. A bottle of champagne rested in an ice bucket between two tapers, a beer next to it. Gemini refilled her flute then poured the beer into a glass.

“Welcome home, darling. Now we can pick up where we left off.” Gemini gave him her most seductive smile.

Cam sauntered over and took the empty seat. He swallowed down half the beer, poured the rest, and scanned her body. “No more modeling emergencies?”

“My work is actually quite demanding. Most people dismiss it, but you’d be surprised at all the working parts: photoshoots, interviews, runway shows, social media. Never a dull moment.” She sipped her drink. “I gave the chef and the staff the night off. We can raid the refrigerator later if we need sustenance.”

Cam downed the rest of the beer and lost his balance, nearly tipping backward in the chair. He shook his head to clear the sudden fog. “What is this?”

“You’ll see. We’re going to have a little fun tonight. Let me help you to the bed before you pass out. You’re too big to carry.” Gemini rose from her seat.

Cam staggered to standing, swept his arm out, and knocked the beer glass to the terrace where it shattered on the flagstone.

Gemini tsked. “Save that passion for later.” She came around the table and pulled him inside. Cam stumbled along and collapsed on the bed. He watched through blurred vision as Gemini hauled up one of his legs, then the other. She took a syringe from the pocket of her robe and injected something into his arm. She leaned down and whispered in his ear. “You rest while that kicks in. Tonight, I’m going to remind you just how good we are together.”

After commandeering an ATV and a set of coveralls from the dig site, Evan had driven to March Mining. It was just after midnight, and the last shift of miners was filtering out. Deciding the pack would be too conspicuous, she grabbed a flashlight and shoved it into the deep side pocket. Just as she was about to walk to the front entrance, she noticed a group of miners entering the mine through a smaller side entrance.

She had thought Miguel had said the last crew finished at midnight, but they must have added a shift. Keeping back a safe distance, she followed them into the tunnel. The men all turned and ducked under a chain barricading part of the mine. Evan continued on and then stopped. From thirty feet away, she could hear talking and laughter from the storeroom. Damnit. She hoped the men weren’t planning another all-night party. Voices at the entrance to the storeroom had her retracing her steps and ducking under the security chain. She peered around the corner and assessed her options. Suddenly, a large hand covered her mouth; another encircled her waist and lifted her off the ground. The man carried her down a series of tunnels, through a steel fire door, and into a room that looked like some kind of lab. What is this place? Before she could look around, she was thrown to the ground, her forehead hitting the concrete.

Evan rolled onto her back and stared up at a building of a man with long hair and a full beard. He was explaining to two others in clipped Catalan that he had caught her spying. The men spoke quickly, and she was seeing stars from her knock on the head, but one sentence was clear: “Call Señor March.”

One man entered a number and put the call on speaker so the others could listen. When the calm voice of Joseph Nabeel came over the line, Evan silently cursed. She knew deep down Joseph would resort to desperate measures if he thought she knew where to find The Panther's Eye.

Evan needed to get out of there now. The men were facing one another and seemed to be arguing over how to restrain her.

Quiet as the mouse Miguel accused her of being, she inched slowly back. By the time one of the men looked up, she was only a foot from the steel door. Evan leapt to her feet acting on pure impulse, pushed open the heavy door, and took off. She heard expletives and shouts from the room, but she had already disappeared around the corner. She had been carried down these tunnels backward with a hand covering her mouth, but weeks in this underground labyrinth had honed her spatial awareness. She saw the chain ahead of her and ducked under it. She knew her destination. If no one had discovered her small treasure cave in six centuries, surely it was the perfect hiding place. She ran with familiarity, passing spots she and Miguel had noted on their adventures.

When she came to the storage room, she ducked in. Thankfully the men had cleared out. Without hesitation, she heaved the steel cabinet away from the wall and crawled into the opening. Then gripping the underside, she pulled the heavy cupboard back into place. She flopped into the little treasure room and clapped both palms over her mouth. Air puffed from her nose over the backs of her hands. She waited in the silence.

Five minutes passed, then ten. Eventually, Evan turned back to the entrance Miguel had created with the sledgehammer and began stacking rocks to cover the opening. It wouldn’t bar anyone from entry, but the added layer was certainly better, and it gave her something to do.

When she had covered the hole as best she could in the darkness, she turned back to her treasure room. She mapped the small space in her mind—the mound in the far corner where she and Miguel had found the gold box, the flat rocks to her left where they had opened their magical find.

Then she remembered Miguel discarding the rock they had both assumed had been placed there to weigh the box down. Hardly more interesting than a big rock. It wasn’t a weight. She knew it was the Panther's Eye. He had tossed the massive diamond over his shoulder. She had heard the thunk as it hit the ground and the plop as it rolled into the water.

She pulled the small tactical flashlight from her pocket and stepped out of the bulky coveralls. She knew how she would be passing the time.


Tags: Debbie Baldwin Bishop Security Mystery