Wilde One (27 page)

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Authors: Jannine Gallant

BOOK: Wilde One
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“Better to get arrested than shot at again.”

Griff rose from the bed to stand behind her while she adjusted the hat on her head. When wide eyes stared back at him from the mirror, he wrapped his arms around her to pull her against his chest. “You can still stay here with Rocky while I go.”

“No.” Her breasts rose as she drew in a long breath. “I’ll see this through.”

He nodded. They’d argued earlier, and he wouldn’t rehash the issue now. Even though she was obviously nervous about the evening ahead, she’d made it clear she wouldn’t be left behind.

“Let’s go then, before one of the others gets there first.” He lifted the daypack he’d loaded with a fold-up shovel and a pair of heavy gloves. The rosebushes had thorns, and he wasn’t interested in turning his hands into bloody messes.

“I’m ready. Stay here, Rocky.”

They left a mournful dog in the room and headed down the stairs then outside into the brisk, evening air. Streetlights lit their way, glowing through a blur of fog as they hurried toward their destination.

Griff reached back to clasp Ainslee’s hand. “The last of the fading twilight should be gone by the time we get there.” He just hoped no one else took a risk and arrived earlier.

“Without using a flashlight, how’re we going to see what we’re doing?”

Ainslee’s question jerked him out of his thoughts. “I don’t need to be able to see to dig. We count over to the right bush by feel then unearth the rose. Anything buried beneath it, we grab and run. Simple.”

“Too simple. Why am I positive we’ll encounter complications?”

He grinned. “You lack my sunny outlook on life?”

“Probably.”

A trio of teenage girls approached, their high-pitched voices carrying through the night. One of them gave Griff an up and down survey that should have been reserved for a boy her own age. He scowled in response. Edging by the girls, they passed a dark-haired man smoking a cigarette while he talked on his cell then overtook an older couple, strolling slowly, arm-in-arm, with a poodle padding along beside them.

He tightened his grip on Ainslee’s hand and squeezed. “No sign of any of the others. Let’s hope Morris is the only one who’s figured out the clue so far. We have to assume he did, or he wouldn’t have been in this neighborhood so close to the apartment building.”

“He could have read the same article we did and been looking for the old house in this district. If he didn’t know the place had been torn down, he might not have noticed the eucalyptus tree. Only the top is visible from the street.”

“Hey, that’s a good point. He wasn’t actually at the correct address when we saw him. He was a couple of blocks away.”

She skipped a few steps to keep up with him. “We would have been completely clueless if Doris hadn’t told us where to go. We were prepared to scour every street in the area, looking for the house in the picture.”

Optimism surged. “You’re right. We can’t rule out the possibility that Morris also has a knowledgeable source, but it isn’t a given he found the tree.”

“There it is.”

Ainslee held on so tight, his fingers began to tingle.

They slowed as the apartment building came into view. Lights shone from several windows, and a woman wearing a business suit and carrying a bag of groceries hurried up the shallow steps to the entrance. Taking up a position across the street in the shadows of a tall hedge, they waited until the front door closed behind her.

“No one’s coming.”

He glanced down at Ainslee. Her lips were pressed together, and her gaze darted up and down the block.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded. “Let’s get this over with. Once we recover the treasure, I want to go out for a drink. Two or three would be even better.”

A grin slipped out. “You’re on. We’ll get completely hammered.” He hesitated another moment. “Remember how we decided to handle this? I dig while you keep watch.”

“Don’t worry, I know what to do. I may be a little nervous, but I’m not going to freak out on you.”

“I know you won’t. Let’s hit it.”

They raced across the street then slipped through the gate. Somewhere down the block, a dog barked. Away from the streetlights, the side yard was pitch-black. He bumped into one of the garbage cans and reached out to steady it before it could clang against the others.

“Careful.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

At the corner of the building, they stopped. Except for a single light glowing above the rear exit of the apartment, the backyard was completely dark. Griff strained to hear any sign of movement. Nothing but a hint of breeze rustling the branches of the eucalyptus tree.

“Go.”

Dodging around the birdbath, they sprinted across the yard to the tree. Leaving Ainslee by its base, he felt his way to the fifth rosebush and lowered the pack to the ground. Removing the gloves, he slipped them on then twisted the handle of the collapsible shovel into position. With a final glance around, he started digging. The dirt was soft, easily scooped as he maneuvered the shovel around the roots. Reaching through the branches, he grasped the stalk and wiggled it. Even with the gloves for protection, a thorn stabbed his palm.

“Son of a bitch!” His breath hissed out. With a few more shakes, he lifted the bush from the ground. After leaning it against the fence, he pushed the shovel’s blade into the dirt. The tip struck something with a dull thud.

“Griff.” Ainslee’s voice was a panicked whisper.

He crouched and turned. An obscure shadow hurled toward him. Before he could raise the shovel, something furry knocked him on his ass. A wet, slobbery tongue licked his face. Silently, he struggled to fend off the oversized puppy.

“Winston, where’d you go boy?”

The dog lifted his head. With a woof, he scrambled off Griff and galloped away.

“Good boy. Hurry up and take care of business.” A male voice, creaky with age, echoed through the yard.

Griff pushed up off the ground. The older man they’d seen on their earlier visit stood at the back door beneath the light. The St. Bernard sniffed a clump of grass, then lifted his leg. When he’d finished peeing, he ran to the door. He and the man disappeared inside.

“Are you okay?” Ainslee spoke from the darkness in a low tone.

“I’m fine. The damn dog nearly gave me a heart attack.” His whisper was shaky. “The shovel hit something before the dog knocked me over. It shouldn’t take long now.”

Griff went back to digging. The
something
turned out to be a rock. He unearthed the obstacle to set beside the hole then dug deeper. Another thunk set his pulse racing. This time the shape beneath his shovel was rectangular. Dropping to his knees, he loosened packed dirt with his hands then heaved out a metal box about a foot long.

“Got it.”

“Hurry. I thought I heard the gate squeak.”

He stuffed the box in the daypack, scooped dirt and the rock back into the hole then grabbed the rosebush and jammed it down on top. Folding the shovel to slip into the pack, he hurried toward Ainslee, stumbling in his rush.

She grabbed his arm and clung. Her mouth pressed against his ear. “Someone’s here.”

Flattening against the fence on the far side of the tree, barely breathing, he held her close. Soft footfalls and a faint whiff of cologne... An object of some sort thudded to the ground not two yards from where they stood. When the person moved farther away, Griff edged toward the side yard, pulling Ainslee with him. Keeping clear of the garbage cans, he reached the gate and lifted the latch. They bolted through and were half a block away, when a string of expletives echoed through the night.

“Run!” He turned down the first block and sprinted for the corner.

Ainslee ran just ahead of him, her shoes barely touching the pavement. She’d lost the knit hat, and her long curls streamed out behind her. He winced as the pack slammed against his back. Pain shot through him, and he hoped he wasn’t slowing her down. Following a zigzagging route, they reached the bed and breakfast fifteen minutes later.

Doubled over, she gasped for breath. “Do you think he saw us?”

“Not a chance. Let’s go inside. My back is killing me.”

She straightened. “What’s wrong?”

“The metal box banged against my spine the whole time we were running. After taking that kind of abuse, I want to see what’s in it.”

He held the door open then waved to Doris who was chatting with another couple at the check-in counter. Holding Ainslee’s elbow, breath still coming fast, he plodded up the two sets of stairs by her side.

“You had to have the room with the view on the third floor.” She let out a long sigh as her shoulders slumped.

“At least you’re still able to make jokes.” He fished the key from his pocket to unlock the door.

Rocky greeted them with a shrill round of enthusiastic barks.

Ainslee knelt down to hush him. “Why not joke? We’re both alive to laugh about our adventure.”

“I’m not feeling all that alive at the moment.” Wincing, he walked further into the room and eased the pack off his back. “Damn, that thing is heavy.” After lowering the zipper, he lifted out a black metal box caked in dirt.

“Don’t put it on the bed!”

He jerked back and nearly tripped over the dog. “Shit.”

“That thing’s filthy.” Ainslee ran to spread tissues she pulled from a box across the table. “Set it there.”

Griff lowered the container with a thump.

“Gold is heavy, right?” Her eyes sparkled, cheeks pink with excitement.

God, she’s pretty.

“Yeah, heavy.” He tore his gaze away and blinked, then turned his attention back to the box. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“There’s a combination lock on this damned thing. Victor didn’t give us the combination, did he? I would have noticed a set of numbers with those pictures.”

She touched the rusted metal. “No, he didn’t. Maybe we can cut the lock off.”

“We’d need the right tool, and we aren’t going to find a hardware store open at this hour. Damn it!”

“Then we’ll figure out the combo.” She turned to face him with a broad smile curving her lips. “We found the treasure. After crossing the entire country, we got to it first. This is just a minor setback. Victor’s last ditch effort to keep his prize safe.”

“We did win the contest, didn’t we?” He scooped her into his arms and swung her around. “I knew we would.”

Her excited giggles warmed his heart.

Holding his face between her hands, she planted a kiss on his lips. “I wasn’t so sure. To be honest, I was a little worried we wouldn’t even live to finish the competition.”

He set her on her feet. “Do you want to celebrate? Maybe go have that drink you mentioned earlier?”

“Why not? We’ll bring the pictures with us to look over again. Maybe the combination is there in one of them, just waiting for us to notice it.”

“Sure.” He glanced down. “Uh, we should probably take Rocky out first. He’s staring pretty intently at the door.”

“I’ll do it while you change. You’re almost as dirty as the box. I’ll pass on a shower since the marine layer kept me so cool I didn’t even sweat during all that running.”

He glanced down at his mud covered pants. “That damned St. Bernard puppy knocked me on my ass then sat on me. It’ll only take me a few minutes to clean up.”

She grabbed the leash, clipped it to the dog’s collar and flashed a smile. “Be right back.”

* * * *

Ainslee stood in the middle of the garden and breathed in the heavenly scent of lilac from the two big bushes near the stone patio while she waited for Rocky. And waited. And waited. The dog strolled the perimeter of the yard, dragging his leash, sniffing every shrub and flower, taking his sweet time.
Maybe his way of punishing me for leaving him alone earlier.
She rubbed her arms and shivered as fog swirled around her. “Enough already. Let’s go, Rocky.”

Finally he chose a spot and went.

“About time.” She scooped up the pile with a bag provided for the purpose and dropped it in the can sitting beneath the dispenser before retrieving the trailing leash from the ground. Poop patrol alone was reason enough not to live in a city. She’d find a place near woods or an empty field, somewhere she and Rocky could enjoy walking without having to remove the evidence.

The dog stopped beside a patch of daffodils and growled low in his throat. The French doors leading onto the patio creaked open. Ainslee waited for another guest, or possibly their hostess, to emerge. A shadow darkened the glass panes. As the seconds ticked by and no one came out, her heartbeat accelerated. Was someone just standing there, watching her? The hair stood up on her arms, and she backed deeper into the gloom.

“Sir, you can’t go out there. Sir, this area is reserved strictly for guests—” Doris’s strident voice was cut off when the door closed with a sharp click.

Breath coming in quick gasps, Ainslee hovered beside a rhododendron. Had the person on the other side of the glass doors simply been a misplaced tourist…or someone intent on finding her and Griff? A shudder ran through her. Surely no one could possibly know where they were staying. Had the man been able to see her in the shadows? The patio was brightly lit, but most of the garden was dark with only low decorative lights to highlight the path, making her nearly invisible.

She hoped.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she waited, afraid to go inside. Surely whoever had roused their hostess’s indignation had left by now. When the doors creaked a second time, Ainslee pressed a hand to her chest. Heart racing, she crouched behind the flowering bush.

“Ainslee?” Griff stepped through the open doorway.

“Give me a heart attack!” Straightening, she tugged on the leash and ran across the garden to the patio.

“I came down to see what was taking you so long.”

She stood close, needing his nearness to chase away a bad case of nerves. “Someone looked out these doors a few minutes ago. I don’t think it was another guest.” She shrugged. “Probably stupid, but I was hiding out here until he went away.”

Griff frowned. “Doris called to me as I was walking down the stairs. Then her phone rang, and she rushed off to answer it. We’ll ask her what’s going on.”

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