desk, they’re well hidden. I’m going to take another look.” He turned back to his task, clicking on the
flashlight, shining the light, and searching the underside of the desk.
Muscles tense with frustration, he started to get up when he noticed a trace of white powder on
the floor. He touched it with his gloved finger. The floor was rough beneath his touch, as if Salvatore’s
shoes had worn it down. Dylan raised his finger to his nose and sniffed the white substance before
tasting it.
“Cocaine.” He glanced at Stil water who was watching him. “Looks like he spil ed some beneath
his desk.”
“Interesting.” Stil water walked over to Dylan. “We’l have forensics analyze it.” She marked the
spot he pointed to with a placard.
“Almost finished here.” Dylan shone the flashlight around once again and saw nothing.
He ducked out of the kneehole. Still in a crouch, he tried to think like Salvatore would, but
considering he didn’t know the man well, it wasn’t easy.
Dylan got to his feet and showed Stil water the key that he’d left on top of the desk. “There are
no locks on the desk, so this has to go somewhere else.”
“I wonder what it goes to.” She pul ed out an evidence bag and dropped the key into it before
marking the bag. “We haven’t found anything that needs a key so far.”
The office was searched section by section, but nothing that would provide clues to Christie’s
whereabouts, or what Salvatore might be involved in, could be found.
When they felt that they’d searched the office top to bottom, and nothing of importance had been
found in the rest of the house, Stil water, Dylan, Brooks, and Trace headed to Salvatore’s office in
Old Bisbee to search it with another team of FBI agents.
Dylan shook his head as he climbed into the SUV. It was the middle of the afternoon and it had
already been one hell of a day.
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***
The office turned up nothing. No safe, no documents that showed anything illegal going on,
nothing nefarious, and most importantly, no clues to where Christie might be. Stillwater still believed
there had to be a safe somewhere, maybe a bank safe. Dylan had to agree.
When he’d had enough of coming up empty handed, he headed outside alone to clear his
thoughts. It was starting to turn dark as he stood in front of the coffee shop in the Copper Queen
Plaza, where Salvatore’s office was located. It was just a few days ago that Dylan was in that office
with Christie, Belle, and Salvatore. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
He couldn’t stop working everything over and over in his mind. He had to solve this. He had to
figure out where to go next.
From the start. He had to go back to the time this all began.
His mind turned toward the day he’d gotten the call. It had been pouring rain, Joe barking in his
kennel, Nate hanging from a noose tied to a beam in the shed.
It was like a stab to Dylan’s gut all over again. He could almost smell the rain and the stench of
death as the German shepherd barked nonstop. The sound echoed in his head. After talking with
the detective, Dylan had gone to the house, rain pouring down and mud slick beneath his boots.
He remembered the strangeness of the living room and his search there before going to Nate’s
office and finding the postcard in the baseball book. That book had meant a lot to Nate when he was
young and he’d held onto it for decades.
Dylan frowned as he thought about the book. Could there have been more in the book than the
postcard? Had it somehow meant more than just a place where Nate had stuck the postcard he’d
never mailed?
What could the connection between Nate and Salvatore be?
Despite the fact that Dylan was tired and had no idea if his hunch was correct, he felt a surge of
renewed energy. Maybe, just maybe, Nate had left more to go on than a bunch of postcards and a
memory card.
A cold evening breeze chil ed his face and hands, but he didn’t let it bother him. He felt a strong
desire to talk with Belle and make sure she was doing all right before he went to Nate’s house. He’d
left her when he was furious at Driscoll, and she probably thought he was angry with her.
God, he should have called her earlier in the day rather than letting Brooks and Trace update
her. He wasn’t angry with
her
. He was angry with Harvey Driscoll and Salvatore Reyes. He was
frustrated with the fruitless searches. He was concerned about Christie.
But mad at Belle? No.
He pulled his phone out of its holster and dialed one of the two agents who had replaced Brooks
and Trace in guarding Belle.
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***
on the line. “Hi, Dylan.”
His throat felt like it was going to close off. “How are you holding up, precious?”
A hesitation. “Aren’t you mad at me?”
“No.” He began walking toward the SUV he’d borrowed from Trace. “The last thing I am is angry
with you.”
He heard the sob in her voice. “I thought you hated me.”
“I could never hate you.” His gut ached at the thought that he’d left her feeling that way. “I should
have called sooner.”
“Are you coming back soon?” She had a hopeful note in her voice.
“No.” He let out a heavy breath as he reached the SUV. “I’m going to Nate’s house first to check
on something. After that I’l come back to the B & B.”
“Take me with you.” A determined note was in Belle’s voice. “I might be able to help.” Her voice
softened again. “I need to do something. Nate was my friend, too.”
Dylan gripped the cold door handle of the SUV and squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to see
Belle. Would she be safe if he took her to Nate’s house?
“I can’t take that chance.” Dylan opened his eyes and pressed the remote to unlock the SUV. “I
don’t want anything happening to you.”
“You’re not leaving me. Come get me.” It came out like a demand. “I swear, I’l find a way out of
this place. I want to help. I won’t let you shut me out.”
She’d managed to disappear as a teenager, what if she found a way to do that again? He
couldn’t and wouldn’t underestimate her. She was a woman with such great strength inside her.
“I’l come and get you.” He climbed into the SUV and started the vehicle. “But we’re taking the
agents who are guarding you and you will do as I say. Got it?”
“Just get here.”
The B & B was five minutes away, but someone could be watching him, so he had to take his
time and make sure he wasn’t followed.
***
***
Thirty minutes after Dylan had called Belle, he arrived. She’d been worried that he had changed
his mind, but she couldn’t imagine him saying something and not following through. He had always
kept his promises when they were young. It was part of his honorable nature that had made her love
him so much.
The moment he walked into the suite, she threw her arms around him and pressed her body
against his. It felt so good being in his embrace, feeling his heat and solidness.
Her words were barely above a whisper. “I’m so glad you’re not angry with me.”
“I can’t be angry with you.” He drew away and it tickled a little as he brushed hair from her cheek.
“Your stepfather is the one I’m angry with. You carried a heavy burden all of these years.” She looked
down but he put his finger under her chin and raised her face. “Don’t let his actions hurt you. What
he did—you shouldn’t have had to bear the weight of it alone all of these years.”
“Thank you.” Her throat ached and it wasn’t from nearly being strangled. It was from the lump
that formed at his words. The fact that he understood and wasn’t angry with her made her feel teary.
He hugged her to him. “I’m sorry I left like I did, and I’m sorry I didn’t call. I should have talked
with you sooner.”
She hugged him back, squeezing tight, wanting to tell him how much she loved him. Because
she did, more than she could ever imagine loving anyone. She held back from saying the words. It
needed to be a special moment, not a casual “I love you” when they were about to set out on a task.
Joe nosed in and Belle smiled as she stepped back and looked down at the German shepherd.
Dylan crouched to face the dog. “I suppose you want to come with us.”
Joe barked once.
“Then it’s settled.” Dylan scratched Joe behind his ears. “You’re good to have around while we
figure this all out.” Dylan gave the dog a final stroke on his head before standing again.
“Thank you for coming back to get me.” Belle smiled as he rested his hands on her upper arms.
“Let’s go get whatever it is you need from Nate’s house.”
Dylan lowered his head and gave her a long, slow kiss that nearly swept her off her feet and did
take her breath away.
“Let’s go.”
After she put her jacket on, he took her by the hand and led her to the door before opening it
and guiding her through. He looked at Joe and gave a nod to the open doorway and Joe padded
past Dylan onto the landing between the two suites.
Belle had met the two agents, Jim Heber and Clarice Lutz. Dylan explained to them that they
were heading to Nate’s, and the two agents would accompany them.
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***
were lit up on the hillsides of Old Bisbee.
It had been years since Belle had been to the Saginaw area of Bisbee and Nate’s home, formerly
his grandmother’s.
At one time the homes in Saginaw had been in another part of town known as Jiggerville. Belle
remembered from Bisbee history that somewhere near 1950, the copper mining company, Phelps
Dodge, moved one hundred houses to a new settlement called Saginaw.
Moving the houses was necessary when the powers that be decided to dig an open pit mine to
reach the ore where Jiggerville was located. The mine became known as the Lavender Pit Mine.
The mine closed down in the early 1970’s but the abandoned pit covered over three hundred acres
and was over nine hundred feet deep.
The town of Bisbee nearly died when the mines shut down, but hippies moved into Old Bisbee
and revitalized the area, turning it into an artists’ community, and eventual y a tourist attraction.
Belle thought about the days when Bisbee could have become a ghost town. She’d been young
back then and she and her friends hadn’t known how bad things were during those years. They’d
just been like any other kids, living for the moment.
When they arrived in front of Nate’s home and got out of the SUV, Belle gripped Joe’s leash.
Even through the leash, she felt how tense he was and heard his low growl, as if he was seeing and
remembering the bad things that had happened here.
Dylan had grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment and now he used it to light their way
through the metal chain link gate and up to the house. The two agents who had accompanied them
stayed close and on guard.
It was dark, but in the flashlight’s beam, Belle could make out a shed in the back and a dog run
to the left, near the shed. Joe growled as he strained against his leash as if wanting to go to the
shed.
With Joe at her side, she followed Dylan up the steps to the door that was crisscrossed with
yellow crime scene tape. He removed one of the pieces of tape, opened the door, and stepped
through. He shined the flashlight over the interior before taking Belle’s hand and helping her inside
the home.
Joe followed and his growl deepened. She had a feeling something had happened here.
Something bad.
She shivered and a sharp pain in her midsection caused her to put her hand over her belly. Nate
had lived and died here. She didn’t know exactly where he’d been hung, but she knew that it was on
the property.
Dylan and the agents used flashlights to illuminate the home.
Nate’s home
repeated in her mind.
While Agents Heber and Lutz stayed in the hall, Dylan guided Belle and Joe to a room and pushed
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***
Dylan went straight to a bookcase where one book partially stuck out from a bookcase, and he
pulled the book out. Belle recognized it at once. It was an old book on baseball that Nate had often
carried with him. She’d forgotten about that book and how much it had meant to him. If she