Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 1 of 2 (32 page)

He grudgingly agreed and put the vest back on. He felt like a heel, but there was no sense in neither of them wearing it. Hopefully it wouldn't come to a gunfight so it wouldn't matter. He didn't bother putting it under his shirt this time. He just strapped it on over the top.

He reached for the holster on his hip. Empty. “My gun, did Quinn leave it where I threw it in the bushes?”

“Unfortunately, no. He took it with him. And he took my weapons, too, even my pocketknife I had stowed inside my backpack.”

“What about Eddie? Don't all of you marsh-people have guns all over the place?”

She smiled her first real smile since Quinn's arrival. “While I don't appreciate the disparaging marsh-people comment, you're absolutely right. We do love our firearms out here.” Her smile faded. “It goes against my nature to claim helpless female, but I really don't want to go into Eddie's room to look for a gun. Would you mind?”

“No problem.” He headed into the tiny hall and opened the bedroom door. The tableau inside had turned from dark red to brown already and was beginning to smell. He held his breath as much as he could and performed a quick search. But apparently Eddie wasn't like everyone else out here. There wasn't one single gun to be found. Then again, maybe Quinn had taken Eddie's guns after killing him. Calvin had known Faye would come back here tonight to give Eddie gas money, and Quinn must have forced that information out of him. Poor Eddie. All he'd done was help a friend and he'd paid for it with his life.

Jake returned to the main room and perched on the couch. “Sorry, nothing.”

Faye chewed her bottom lip. “I searched the kitchen and under the couch cushions. I even looked in the oven. I suppose he could have a gun in his car. It's worth a look.”

“I'll do it. Wait here.”

“No. You've got sore ribs and a goose egg on your head. I'll do it.”

He blocked her at the door. “I've also got the vest. Unless you want to put it back on?”

She held her hands up in surrender. “You win.”

After a quick look out the front blinds, he was reasonably certain they were alone. He hurried out to the carport and searched Eddie's Honda Civic. Nothing. He decided to check the backyard just in case Eddie kept a shed with something useful in it. He grinned when he saw what was sitting behind the house. Finally, something was going their way again.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“I can't believe Eddie was so poor and still had this sweet ATV.” Jake waited for Faye to slide off the seat behind him before he dismounted.

“I'm not surprised.” Faye turned on the flashlight she'd had in her backpack and looked around to get her bearings. The clear sky and bright moon illuminated quite a bit, but it was still treacherous to be this deep in the 'Glades at night, even with a powerful flashlight. She really wished she had her gun and her knife.

“Why aren't you surprised?” He pocketed the keys to the ATV and joined her.

“A lot of people have them around here. It's almost a necessity. I borrow Buddy's ATV sometimes. It's nearly impossible to reach some of the more remote areas without one. It sure saved us a lot of time. We're ahead of schedule.”

“Why would you need to go to remote areas out here?”

“Because that's where the most beautiful parts of the Everglades are hidden. There are pristine waterways and saw grass marshes that stretch for miles and miles, untouched by man, just bursting with life. You wouldn't believe the gorgeous flocks of snowy egrets that live out there. Or the incredible plants and flowers. It's breathtaking.”

She flushed when she realized he was staring at her. “What? Am I gushing too much?”

He smiled. “Not at all. I enjoy hearing you describe this place. You really love it, don't you?”

“What's not to love?”

“Oh, I can think of a few things. No electricity. No roads. No bathrooms.”

“We have all of those back in town, in Mystic Glades.”

“Spotty phone service. Internet that fades in and out. Should I continue?”

She gave him an aggravated look and aimed her flashlight off to the right, toward a dark scattering of rocks and downed trees. “That's where we need to go.”

“Looks like an obstacle course.”

“Yep. We can't use the ATV anymore.”

He groaned as if she was taking away his favorite toy. Which, judging from the way he'd grinned when they'd begun their trip, she probably was.

“I don't suppose there's a canal near here. And you've got a canoe hidden away in a strategic spot we could use.”

“Uh, no. Fresh out of canals and canoes at the moment. Are you going to start complaining again? I thought I worked those greenhorn complaints out of you when we were looking for Calvin together?”

“Apparently not.” He held up a low-hanging branch. “After you.”

She murmured her thanks and they started the last long leg of their journey. The terrain here was much rougher than what they'd gone through before. But that's why she'd originally chosen it. She and Calvin had hiked several times through the 'Glades during those summers with Amber, but not through this area. When she'd hidden the journal, she'd wanted to make sure it was somewhere that he'd never been, somewhere he wouldn't think to look.

The path they were following gradually became even rougher as the pines that had outnumbered the cypress trees gave way to almost nothing but cypress. The tree roots bumped up out of the wet ground all around the base of each tree, spreading out for several feet, like knobby knees just waiting to trip her and Jake. They were forced to slow down and carefully pick their way along the path so they wouldn't fall. They often had to splash through shallow water, or make wide circuits around bogs to find drier land.

Jake glanced up at the dark sky. “These trees are blocking most of the stars. Are you sure we're headed in the right direction?”

“Positive. Everything looks familiar now. We're close.”

“How close is close?”

“Maybe another hour.”

He groaned. “At least tell me this ‘hunting cabin' is kept up and has luxuries like, you know, walls.”

She laughed. “Yes, it has walls. And a bed. And a rainwater capture system that filters and supplies water to the kitchenette. It's practically the lap of luxury.”

“You didn't mention a bathroom.”

“I brought latrine kits.”

He shot her a disgruntled look. “Who owns the cabin? I want to complain.”

“Buddy.”

“Which one?”

She gave him a good-natured shove. “Buddy Johnson, the owner of Swamp Buggy Outfitters. If you're through complaining, we'll be on our way.”

An hour later, just as she'd predicted, the cabin she'd told him about came into view. At least, for her it did. She stopped and leaned back against a thick cypress tree.

Jake paused and turned. “Something wrong?”

“Just appreciating how observant you are, Mr. Police Officer Private Investigator Guy.”

His hand automatically went to his holster, which of course was empty. He frowned and scanned the woods around them, turning in a full circle. “What do you see?” he whispered.

“The cabin,” she whispered back.

He quirked a disbelieving brow and studied the woods again, more slowly. When he saw the structure, he gave her a rueful grin. “You could have mentioned it was camouflaged.”

“And spoil my fun? Not a chance.” She hurried past him, down the side path that led to the only door. The wood on the little cabin had been painted brown and green to match the trees around it, and nets held dried tree branches against the sides, making it blend in with its surroundings.

She turned the doorknob, but before she could push it open, Jake pulled her back.

“Is it supposed to be unlocked?” he asked, his voice low.

“It's called hospitality. Anyone out this far is welcome to use it. Especially hunters, thus the designation as a ‘hunting cabin.'”

He didn't crack a smile at her teasing. “If Buddy wants to help strangers that way, why camouflage the building in the first place?”

“I didn't say it was for
strangers
. Everyone in Mystic Glades knows about this place. If there are any strangers out this far, trust me, they're up to no good.”

“Drug runners?” he asked. “I hear they use the Everglades as a drug route.”

“So far I've been lucky enough that I've never bumped into any out here. I've heard stories about people using the canals to make their getaway. We've had more than a few meet their end with an alligator or constrictor because they thought jumping into a canal was a good way to escape the cops.”

He took her flashlight, gently shoved her behind him and went inside the cabin first, apparently to search for bad guys. She thought the gesture was sweet, but she didn't wait for him to search the place. She could already tell it was empty. It was only one room, with nothing but a full-size bed against the far wall.

Jake frowned, obviously not pleased that she hadn't waited outside. He stepped past her and bolted the door.

“Mind shining the light over here?” Faye asked.

He pointed the light into the kitchenette. It didn't boast a pantry. There was just a cabinet beneath the sink for things like dishwashing liquid and cleaners and one cabinet attached to the wall next to the door. Inside were a few plates and cups, and two shelves of nonperishable food and some bottled water. It didn't look as if anyone had used the cabin since the last time she'd been here, which meant there was plenty of water and they could snack on crackers and peanut butter. Or she could whip up a can of tuna fish with some of the packets of mayonnaise if Jake wanted some.

“Shouldn't we dig up the journal before we get too comfortable?” he asked.

His bald statement brought the reason for their trip sharply back into focus. She'd been trying not to think about what was at stake while hiking through the marsh. It had been easy since she'd had to concentrate on watching out for predators and trying not to break an ankle by tripping over any downed trees. But now, all of that faded away.

“I'll grab an extra flashlight.” She moved a box of saltines to the side and grabbed one of the flashlights from the back. She cracked open a fresh pack of batteries and made sure the flashlight was working before closing the cabinet. “The journal is buried behind the cabin. There should be some tools hanging on the back wall outside, including a shovel. Once we get the journal, I think we should try to get some sleep. The ATV put us way ahead of schedule. And I really don't like being out here at night. We've been lucky so far, but this is hunting time for some of the bigger predators. We can wait here until dawn.”

“Works for me. Ready?”

She blew out an unsteady breath. “I guess so. When I buried that thing, I never intended to dig it up again. I'd hoped it wouldn't ever come to that.” She pulled back the dead bolt and headed out the door with him beside her.

Jake grabbed the shovel from the back and she led the way between some cypress trees a good thirty feet from the cabin. She stood in the small cleared area and lined up the old, rotted palm that she'd used as a landmark, with the cypress to its right, before pacing off four steps. She used her boot to scrape an X in the soil. “This is it.”

Jake broke ground. “How wide and how deep?” He scooped out a shovelful of dirt.

She frowned at how moist it looked. “A foot wide should do. And only about a foot down. I couldn't go much deeper. The high water table would have flooded the hole.”

It took him only a few minutes to widen the hole to the required twelve inches. He scooped out more dirt to deepen the hole. Faye kept her flashlight aimed at the ground where he was digging. He'd gone only half the required depth when his shovel made a sucking sound.

A feeling of dread swept through her. “Please tell me that's not what I think it is.”

“Mud.” He lifted the shovel out and deposited a gooey, wet pile of dirt beside the hole.

“I chose this place because it's on higher ground and over fifty yards from the nearest bog. It should have been dry.” Her fingers curled painfully tight around the flashlight as Jake scooped out two more shovelfuls of mud, the last one so wet that oily black water dripped from it.

His shovel thumped against something hard. He tossed the shovel aside and dropped to his knees to finish digging by hand. Faye helped him, scooping out handfuls of the dripping mud. And she prayed harder than she'd prayed in a long time.

“It's in a plastic bag inside a metal box. It should still be okay. Right?”

Jake glanced at her but didn't say anything.

“I've got it.” He cleared mud from the corners of the metal box she'd buried over a year ago. It took some tugging, but the cement-like mixture finally gave up the fight, releasing the box with a giant sucking sound. He wiped the globs of gooey earth away from the top and sides and set the box down in front of Faye. “You do the honors.” He held a flashlight and waited.

She hesitated, offering up another quick prayer. Her fingers shaking, she flipped the latch and opened the lid.

“Oh, no.” The entire box was filled with the same goo as the hole where it had been buried. “It's in plastic,” she repeated. “It will be okay. It has to be.” She scooped her hands inside. “I can't find it. It's not here.” Panic made her voice a high-pitched squeak.

“Here, let me.” He took the box and turned it over, shaking it to let the mud drop to the ground. When the box was empty, he set it aside. He sloughed off layer after layer of mud until, finally, something shiny reflected in the light. He pulled the piece of plastic up, letting the remaining clumps of mud fall to the ground. What once had been a gallon-sized plastic Baggie keeping the journal clean and dry was now bloated and dripping at the seams.

Completely full of mud.

Faye shook her head in horror.

Jake laid the bag on top of the ground and tore it open. The edges of the journal finally came into view. He slid his hand beneath it and picked it up. The pages dropped out in big, wet clumps. Only the leather binding was intact.

“I'm sorry, Faye. Whatever was printed on these pages is gone. The journal is just a soggy mess.”

“Gone?” She shook her head. “No, it can't be gone.” She pushed his hands aside and feathered her fingers over the top of the mass. She gently tried to peel off what seemed to be a page. It shredded like wet toilet paper. A sob caught in her throat. Her eyes clouded with tears.

“Maybe if we dry it out we'll be able to see something,” Jake offered, his voice gentle. “I noticed a small tabletop stove in the kitchenette. We could put a pan on top and set the papers in it, turn the stove on low. When the moisture is out, we might be able to dust off the dirt and still read something.”

She latched on to his words like a skydiver desperately deploying the backup shoot when the primary one failed. “Yes, yes, that could work. We'll dry them out.” She shoved her flashlight into her pocket and scooped her hands beneath the soggy mess, lifting it free of the mud.

Jake put his hands around her waist and pulled her up. He led her back to the house and inside the kitchen, where she deposited the glob of papers on the counter.

“I'll fill in the hole so no one steps in it and sprains an ankle. Be back in a few.”

She nodded, barely noticing the door closing behind him as she grabbed a pan.

* * *

J
AKE
STARTED
FILLING
in the hole, not that it mattered. It wasn't as if there weren't a thousand other holes out in this wild land just waiting to trap an unsuspecting ankle. But he'd needed an excuse to get away for a few minutes. He couldn't bear to see the despair and hopelessness in Faye's eyes. He'd never met a more capable, strong woman. To see her brought down like this was just...wrong.

And now, with nothing to bargain for her brother's life, and with no weapons, and no way to get help, how was he supposed to protect her? He'd had a vague plan in place when he followed her to Eddie's house. But that plan had mostly consisted of Dex keeping everyone informed—including Deputy Holder, and unfortunately, Quinn Fugate.