Guarding the Treasure (24 page)

The connection was quiet for a moment. “Gates, the only advice I can give you is to search the castles in the area again. I believe you'll find Sophie there and, from what I've read in the diary, the other women as well.”

“Is that what Three meant when he said ‘for the good of others'?” Taylor asked, marking the words with his finger.

“That's right. If you find Sophie, you'll find the other women, too. I'm almost sure of it.”

Kevin picked the map up from the table, “Any other advice, Theresa?”

“Read the diary. If what has happened to Anya is a foreshadowing of what Ms. Hanes will face, then you'd better be ready for anything.”

The two looked at the phone, waiting.

Theresa continued, “Things will not be pretty gentlemen, but they seldom are when you're dealing with a psychopath and a highly trained agent who has defected.”

Gates and Taylor knew she was right. A highly intelligent and skilled mind working with one that desired power and revenge spelled the worst case scenario.

“Are you ready to start tearing the countryside apart?” Kevin asked his partner, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

“Yeah,” Taylor said, not looking up but continuing to read the diary. “This is what Theresa was talking about.”

Kevin sat across the table, spreading the map out in front of him once more. “Shoot, I'm all ears.”

Kevin read:

“My day was pleasant, not at all as I had expected. I was shown around the grounds of Mr. Dubois. I see many trees that blend in with the deep, dark, forbidden forest. I also find myself attended by beautiful people. That seems odd to me. I am taken back by the behavior of some who are evil to the point of cruelty, and then those who are kind but silent. What is before me? I still feel ill at ease, like this too is a trap.”

“Your mind is becoming wise, Anya. You are not allowing your eyes to trick you into believing all is well, for it is not. There will always be wolves in sheep's clothing. Those who know of them will not be deceived by their loveliness. Be assured I have prepared friends on the path for the work they must do.”

“But how could you have prepared them, Three? They do not know me or where I am.”

“They have had guides, such as Olivia has been to you. She is a true follower and has received power to do my work. Your rescue will be at hand, but continue to watch, for evil seeks to destroy you and all that you stand for. You are your father's child.”

“My father. I have not heard you speak of him. How do you know of him?”

“Oh Anya, I know all things. Have you forgotten who I am?”

“No, I have not forgotten. You are Three. I will be aware.”

“Ms. Hanes, this would be a nice place to sit and start reading your diary,” the young man said, indicating a lounge chair under a great oak. It was positioned out of sight from the castle yet still nestled on the estate.

Sophie took a minute to look closely at the man's features. He was beautiful by any worldly standard. The more she thought about it, everyone working on the estate had the same look. They were all above average in appearance and social graces.

“Why is everyone I see young and beautiful?” Sophie asked.

The man smiled but said nothing for some time. “We are paid to please,” he said, smiling, as he leaned on his knee and looked deep into her eyes.

Sophie felt something as he gazed upon her, or maybe it was just her own nervousness. “Please? What do you do to please?”

“Maybe I will be chosen to show you tonight,” he said, touching her foot with his fingertips.

She quickly pulled it away, moving her eyes to a page she had opened to in the diary. “If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone for a while,” she said, not looking up.

He walked a short distance from her and sat, still facing her.

Sophie continued to read, the uneasiness she felt draped her like a heavy shawl.

“I find my greatest comfort in talking to you, diary. I saw Mr. Dubois but briefly today. He was like my brother, cold and uncaring of my feelings. He assured me that tonight would be most pleasurable. I fear that one of these times, the pleasure they enjoy will kill me. It is dreadful what they ask of me, and they care not of the pain. They do not care that it is not pleasure I seek. I seek to go far from this place, to go home to my own country. But not to the home I once loved. No, I long to be free from my brother's control, to be free of the dreadfulness that my life has become since the death of Mother and the departure of Father.”

 

Sophie looked down as the professor paced around her like a cat stalking its prey.

“You are more beautiful than any other woman I've seen at the Regal, Ms. Hanes,” he said.

Sophie stood, hardly breathing in the tight, red-sequined, mini dress. She looked down at the plunging neckline. “I look more like an overpriced prostitute,” she said under her breath. She remembered Anya's words. She had been used as a prostitute by her brother and Mr. Dubois. She had read just enough to prepare herself for what the evening would hold. “Help me, Three,” she whispered as she was taken to a dimly lit dining area. She saw a man she knew from somewhere. When he came into the light, she realized who it was. Mr. Gipson.

“Wow, Ms. Hanes,” he said, standing to take her hand.” When I saw you briefly the other day, I knew you were something special. Now I know why Gates wanted to keep you for himself.”

Sophie's eyes flashed, and her mouth gaped. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard. “What did you just say?”

“Sit,” Gipson said, dismissing the professor with a sly smile and ignoring Sophie's direct question.

Sophie slowly sat, closely watching her unwelcome companion.

“By the look on your face, Ms. Hanes, something tells me that Kevin didn't mention to you that we were old working buddies,” he said, enjoying the disquiet he was reading in her face.

Sophie turned away, not wanting to think that Kevin had been associated with someone like Gipson. “Mr. Gates never mentioned you, sir,” she said quietly, eyes now focused on the tile floor.

He reached across the table, firmly cupping her chin in his hand and raising her head so their eyes would meet. “That's funny,” he said with a smile. “Kevin called me shortly before you arrived in Ireland and asked me to entertain you and show you a good time during your stay.”

“I don't believe you,” she said, pushing his hand from her face.

Gipson laughed as he leaned back in his chair. “You can believe what you want, but Kevin knows exactly where you are and who you're with. You see, Sophie, in the business Gates and I are in, we share more than just information. We share everything,” he said, moving closer to her.

Sophie shifted, looking at Gipson with disgust. “I will not be shared with anyone, Mr. Gipson.”

“Oh, I think you will,” he said, resting his hand on hers.

Sophie tried to pull her hand from him. “Why am I here and why am I with you?”

“You are mine for the evening, and my time starts now,” he said, tightening his grip as he pulled her to her feet.

Sophie recalled what she had read earlier. Anya had made an attempted to resist the man she'd been given to. Was this a reenactment of that evening at Mr. Dubois' castle? “Oh Three, no,” she whispered.

“As you have read, dear Sophie, of the pain Anya endured, so you too must endure. But take heart. You have hope in the darkest of times.”

She turned her head, Three's words sounding in her ears. Gipson held tightly to her hand. “But Three, I read of no protection. There was no sign that you were with Anya. I only read of her fear and pain. You call that hope?”

“So you don't believe that I will protect you, Sophie? You have read the diary.”

“I wasn't allowed to finish it,” she answered in her mind.

“Even more reason to trust me for your protection. Your future depends on me.”

“Ms. Hanes, you seem distant, someplace else,” Gipson said, reaching for her other hand and pulling her toward him. “I think it's time we change that.”

Taylor slowed the car to take a left turn. His eyes caught something as the headlights swept across the countryside.

“What's that?” he asked, stopping in front of a sign partially covered with green vines.

Kevin leaned toward the dash. “It says the Regal. Can you make out what it says under those vines?”

“Not sure, I can't make it out.” Taylor froze, his eyes glued to the sign, thinking. “Hey, I remember this place,” he said, striking the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “The angle is different, though. The rest of the sign reads ‘for the mentally impaired.' I turned around here the other night after I lost Smith's car.”

Kevin moved even closer to the windshield, scanning the wall. “Have you ever been in there?”

“No, I'm not from this part of Ireland, but if my memory serves me correctly from looking at some maps, there's an old castle on the estate. I do remember it was under renovation about three years ago after a fire. It made pretty big news at the time.”

“Why don't I remember that?” Kevin said, thinking out loud. “I was working in Ireland three years ago. This site was never considered.” There was a silence, and then Kevin said, “Taylor, get on your phone. Find out how long the Regal has been in business, who owns it, and who it services.” Kevin grabbed his camera from the back seat. “I'm going to take a look around.”

Kevin slowly opened the car door, waiting for motion detectors to light up. He stepped out and stood perfectly still, scanning the wall for any type of security. “Not a camera in sight,” he said as he started to make his way through the thick thorny vines that surrounded the entire wall about nine feet out.
Who needs security when you have a natural deterrent
, he thought, feeling the barbs snag his jacket and scratch his face. He made it to the wall and noticed a narrow pathway around the circumference for as far as he could see in the clouded moonlight.

“Let's see where this takes me,” he said, walking parallel to the road. He turned to check the distance. He could see Taylor and the car about fifty yards behind him. The wall up ahead was going to take him to the left, away from the road. He took out his phone. “Hey, Taylor, do you have anything yet?” Kevin continued to walk, his partner's voice breaking in and out on his phone.

“Gates, the reception is really poor in this area. I'll meet up with you.”

Kevin took pictures of the area as he waited for Taylor to join him. He'd need a good pictorial map of the area if it became something of urgent interest. “Come on, Taylor,” Kevin whispered impatiently. Just then, he heard something run up behind him. “Taylor?”

“Yeah,” Taylor whispered. “Who were you expecting, an Irish banshee?”

Kevin pulled in a breath of relief.
No surprises
, he thought,
at least not yet
.

Wow, it's hard to get close to the wall without being ripped apart by these vines,” Taylor commented, examining his torn jacket.

Kevin agreed. “I'm going to try to walk the perimeter and see if there's any other way in except through the front gates. Did you get any information about this place?”

“Yeah, the Regal is licensed as a care facility for the mentally unstable. It's owned by a legitimate corporation here in the country, and it's been here for over twenty years.”

Kevin's eyebrows rose. “Twenty years? That doesn't make sense. We knew nothing about it just three years ago.”

“Who's the ‘we' you're talking about?”

“The team I was working with at the time. It was Gipson, and— it was Gipson. That's why I knew nothing about it. He didn't want me or anyone else to know about this place. He's connected, but how?” Kevin asked.

“We know that Gipson knows the professor,” Taylor said, following Gates as he continued to walk the perimeter. “So we can assume what we've thought all along—they're into something not good, together.”

“Yeah, but we still don't know if this is the place they're keeping Sophie and the other women,” Kevin said.

“You're right,” Taylor said, running his hands along the wall as they walked.

“Gates, a lot of the old estates had a secret entrance on one of the walls, but since this has been remodeled, I'm not sure where it would be, or if it would even still exist.”

The men stayed close to the wall, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

“What's this?” Taylor asked, stepping back to get a better look. He clicked his cell phone on to light the spot in question. “This area has a different color brick than the rest,” he said.

“You're right. The little bit of moonlit tonight reflects off it differently than the rest.”

Taylor ran his hands over the surface of the wall. “I don't feel any buttons or see any handles that might get us in.”

“This isn't right,” Kevin said, his chest beginning to rise and fall more rapidly.

“What are you thinking?”

“Something's wrong. It's too quiet,” Kevin whispered.

They both stopped, not speaking a word. There was nothing but the constant chirp of crickets and the deep throaty growl of bullfrogs.

Taylor turned, leaning his head against the wall. “Anya wrote the same thing in her diary, Gates. Right after she was—”

Kevin cut him short. “I remember,” he said, feeling a pain shoot through his gut.

“Think past the rape. Think to what she said about the people in the grand hall. She witnessed them suddenly become quiet, get up, and exit the room, like they were in some kind of trance. Remember she said the silence was so loud it was deafening?”