Anxiety tightened her stomach and she fiddled with the play button. “We need to finish watching this. He may tell us where it is by the end of the DVD.”
“Turn it back on, but be ready to run if I tell you to.”
“We can't leave without that microchip. Mario's death can't be for nothing.”
He thought for a moment, staring at Mario's paused face on the screen. “I've got an idea.”
“What?”
“I'm going to call Mac and ask him for help.”
“Do you think that's wise?”
“Guess we'll find out.” He held up his phone. “It's ringing.”
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Mac answered on the second ring. “Masterson, where are you?”
“At a safe place, but I need your help.”
“Anything.”
“Gina and I are getting close to finding what Mario hid. It's a microchip, but he never had a chance to look at it real well before he was killed. And while he's left us a trail of clues to follow, he hasn't come right out and said where this chip is.”
“But you think you can find it?”
“With a little more time and your help, yes, I think so.”
“Tell me what you need and I'll make sure you get it.”
Ian appreciated the man's willingness. “All right, I need to make sure we're safe. We've figured out Bandit is the traitor in this mess, and we need you to keep him away from
here. We can't search constantly looking over our shoulders, waiting for him to show up.”
“Not a problem. I can have my guys wherever you need us. Give me your location.”
Ian did so, figuring Bandit already knew where they were anyway and was probably on the way out to the farm. Maybe Mac would be able to intercede, and they would have a bit more time to search. “Thanks, Mac, and I'll call you as soon as we find that microchip so you can see that it gets to the proper authorities.”
“Will do, Masterson. You're a good man and I'd be glad to have you back on my team anytime you're ready.”
“Appreciate that. Gotta go. I'll call you soon.”
They hung up and Ian returned to Gina. “I've got two more phone calls to make and I'll be right there. I think everything is going to be just fine.”
“You think Mac was the right person to call?”
“I think Mac was the perfect person to call.”
G
ina watched Ian pace as he waited for whoever he was calling to answer. Turning back to the DVD, she decided to go ahead and watch and if anything major turned up, she would fill him in.
She pressed Play and Mario came to life once more. A pang filled her as she watched him talk and move. She was so relieved he'd gotten right with God before his death that tears came each time she thought about it.
Thank you, Lord, that he's with You.
Gina reached up to grasp the necklace, wondering when he'd had time to put the key in it. She thought about some of their last moments together and knew it had been the day they'd gone hiking. He'd taken the necklace from her to examine the picture of his sister.
“She would have loved you, Gina,” he'd told her.
And she'd looked into his brown eyes and told him, “I'm sure I would have loved her, too.”
He'd put his arm around her, and they'd watched the sun set together. Then he'd left and she hadn't seen him againâuntil now. She tuned back in to what he was saying.
“I knew Ian would help you. You see, Gina, you were the reason he left the unit. He was in love with you.”
She gasped, pressed Pause and, with a pounding heart, whirled to look for Ian. He'd disappeared and she wilted with relief. She looked at Mario, frozen on the screen. “What? Are you crazy?”
Certifiable.
Ian was in love with her? Had been in love with her all this time? He came back in the room and she looked at him, still talking on the phone, pacing from one end to the other. She didn't know what the other person was saying, but Ian looked intense.
Him? In love with her? There was no way that could be possible. Ian wouldn't have left the unit just because of herâwould he?
She
was the reason he'd left? It didn't compute.
Flicking the play button, she gathered her composure as she listened to the rest of what Mario had to say.
“So anyway, now you know.”
“Know what?” Ian's deep voice rumbled beside her and she jumped.
“Umâ¦nothing. That part wasn't important. Just something personal between Mario and me.”
Sympathy softened his eyes. “All right. Would you like to watch the rest of the video by yourself?”
Did she? No, Mario probably wouldn't mention anything again about Ian being in love with her, and they were running out of time. “No, stay. It's fine.”
He stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. She shivered and closed her eyes. Should she feel guilty? Maybe. Did she? Not really. Mario had given her the freedom to love again. He'd even picked the guy for her. How ironic.
“I hope you can forgive me, Gina. Everything I did, I did to protect you.” He stood and carried the camera from room to room. He zoomed in on various things in each room as
though taking inventoryâor saying goodbye. “Thank you for loving my grandmother. You brought light back into her life after Patrice died. And she loved this house. I was looking forward to living here again one day.” He stopped in Patrice's room, panned around it, then he was back in front of the camera again. “Gina, you were the only woman in her life that didn't disappoint her. Always a picture of true beauty. Anyway, until we meet again.” He kissed two fingers and placed them on the lens of the camera. Then it went blank.
And Gina knew she'd truly seen the last of Mario Anthony.
And would bet her last breath there was a last clue hidden somewhere in the video. And she still didn't know what to look for.
Exhausted beyond belief, emotionally wrung out and so frustrated she wanted to scream, she sat back in the chair and stared at the computer.
“Any idea?” Ian asked.
She jerked, then looked up at him and blinked. “No.”
Weariness crossed his face and he patted her shoulder. “All right, then, I'll get in contact with Joseph and let him know we just can't find it.”
Tears blurred her vision once more. “I'm sorry, Ian. I justâ¦I can'tâ¦I don't know!” She threw her hands up in defeat and stood.
He quickly crossed to her side and gathered her close. “It's all right, Gina.”
“No, it isn't,” she mumbled against his chest, inhaling his sweet male scent. He was in love with her?
She slid her arms around his waist and rested there for one brief, peaceful moment; then it was over. She pulled away. “I'll figure it out. I have to.”
He let her go, the longing in his eyes making her heart thump. Oh, boy.
She turned to leave the office and the necklace around her neck flashed a reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall.
And she stopped.
Looked back at the computer screen.
Then back at the mirror.
“What is it?” he asked, eyes sharp and questioning, any trace of emotion gone.
She moved back to the desk. “Can you play the last part of that DVD again? Just the part where Mario's saying goodbye.”
“Sure.” He clicked the necessary buttons to bring up the disc again, then forwarded to the part she'd requested and pressed Play.
She narrowed her eyes, intent on watching each picture. “Ian, did you hear what he said?”
“About what?”
His phone rang. He looked at the screen and raised a brow. “It's Mac.”
“Go ahead and answer it.”
She registered Ian's side of the conversation absentmindedly as she thought about her next move and watched the end one more time.
Ian was saying, “No, we haven't found it, but I think if we have about thirty more minutes, we'll have it. Yeah. Yeah. Thanks for the help.”
As Mario did his walk-through of the house, the picture of Mario's sister stood out to her this time. He'd zoomed in on the portrait, then out and moved on.
The portrait. It still hung on the wall in his sister's bedroom. The portrait that had been painted two weeks before she'd died. A picture of true beauty.
Reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, she pulled out the now-ratty letter she'd found at the beach house. Scanning through it, she stopped at the part that said, “Grandmother thought the world of you. You're the only woman in her life who didn't disappoint her.”
“The only woman in her life who didn't disappoint her. Now that's not true.”
“What's not true?”
“I wasn't the only woman in her life that didn't disappoint her. At first I thought Mario must be referring to his mother because of the abandonment. I guess I think of Patrice, his sister, as a child, but maybe Mario included her in this.”
“And?”
“I think Mario's giving me another clue here. I think Patrice's portrait has something to do with all this.”
“Where is it?”
“Follow me.”
Turning on her heel, she led the way down the hall to Patrice's old room. Perfectly preserved, it looked as if it waited on her to return from some teenage jaunt.
And the portrait hung above the bed. A beautiful piece, it captured the girl's gentle spirit and love of life. She looked a lot like Mario. Sadness engulfed Gina as she thought about the brother and sister who'd both died too young.
“Okay, what are we looking for?”
Tears blurred her vision. Had they finally come to the end of this crazy, world-shattering journey?
“I think the microchip is up there.” She pointed to the portrait. “Can you help me get it off the wall?”
“Sure.” Without question or hesitation, he took his shoes off and stood on the bed to gently remove the painting. “It's heavy.”
“Yeah, Mina would have only used the best for her Patrice.”
With a grunt, he turned from the wall and bent to let it slide to the floor, letting it lean against the edge of the bed. Then he hopped down, slid back into his shoes and said, “All right, you're up.”
“Do you have a pocketknife?”
He slanted her an amused glance and pulled out his Swiss Army knife. “What size blade do you need?”
“The smallest one.”
He obliged and handed it over.
“Thanks.” With focused concentration, she leaned over the painting and took a deep breath. The small razor-sharp blade hovered over the girl's throat, and with a gentle yet firm movement, Gina inserted the blade just under the locket.
I
an held his hand under the small flap that Gina loosened with the knife, and a tiny object tumbled into his palm. Elation flooded him and he looked up at Gina. “You're amazing. You did it.”
She flushed and looked flustered, then shrugged. “Well, if you hadn't kept me alive, I wouldn't have gotten past the beach house.” She gave him an intense look, one that burned to the very depths of his heart.
He leaned over and kissed her, gently, a quick touch to her lips that promised so much more. “We've got a lot to talk about later, okay?”
Eyes wide, she nodded. Then he became all business again. “All right, let's get this back in there.”
“What?” Confusion wiped the dazed look from her face.
“I still don't know who the good guys are, so we're not taking any chances. I wish I had time to see what's on it, but know we don't. And if the bad guys show up before the good guys, I want to make sure that thing is protected. Can you get it back in there without ruining the picture?”
“Maybe. Mario did a good job gluing the flap back to the painting. I had to get very close to notice it had been dis
turbed. There's some glue down in the kitchen. I'll just run down there and get some.”
He handed her the chip. “I'll do it. Which drawer?”
She told him and he left to get the glue. He also wanted to make a couple of calls. Dialing the first number, he got Joseph. “Did you find them?”
“Negative on that. Catelyn's working with the reinforcements you called in to keep up the search. I'm making sure they've got all the information they need. Then I'll be on my way out to the farm in case you need backup. Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Sure did and I'm making phone calls to make sure I've got all my bases covered.”
“Great. Be there shortly.”
Ian hung up and made the next call. Mac answered on the first ring. “Did you find it?”
“Yes, sir. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you taking it off our hands like this.”
“Have you looked at it? Do you know what it was that made these guys willing to kill for it?”
“No, sir. I haven't had a chance to look at it.”
“Might be best if you don't.”
“That's kind of how I feel about it. But Mario did leave a DVD behind. He confirmed that Bandit's the one who set him up.”
“Bandit? Are you sure? He's been undercover a long time.”
Mac sighed heavily. “I hate to hear that.”
“Be careful if you run into him. He's here in town somewhere.”
“All right, it'll take me a while to get there, but I'm on my way.”
“See you soon, sir. I'll be waiting.”
Ian hung up the phone with a feeling of satisfaction. Hopefully, this was all about to come to an end and he and Gina would be safe.
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Gina watched Ian hang the picture back on the wall. “What do you think is on the chip?” she asked.
Tilting the picture a little more to the left to make it level, he finally turned and shrugged. “I don't know. Some kind of incriminating evidence against someone, I'm sure.”
“Someone from the unit?”
“No doubt.”
“Can you tell where the chip is?”
Ian studied the painting, then shook his head. “Not really. If I didn't know it was in there, I wouldn't notice it.”
“Good.”
Ian shoved his gun into the back of his jeans and turned to make his way down the stairs. Gina followed, stepping lightly behind him.
They made their way back into the den, with Ian checking the windows and looking at the clock. “All right, here's the plan,” he said.
“Yeah, Ian, tell us the plan.”
Gina whirled, gasping as she took in the man who stepped out from behind the door to the den, his gun leveled at the two of them.
Ian pulled Gina behind him and managed to grip the butt of his gun before the weapon in the stranger's hand cracked. Gina screamed as Ian fell back against her, knocking her sideways.
“Ian!” She threw herself down beside him, keeping one eye on the advancing menace in front of her. Ian lay still, eyes closed. The wound in his shoulder bled only a small amount.
Had the bullet passed through?
Was he dead?
Running her hand down his back, she felt for the gun. “What are you doing?” she yelled at the man.
“Reclaiming what's mine.” He pointed the gun at her head. “Now where is it?”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
Annoyance flashed across his uneven features. The tattoo on his hand caught her eye; then his words chilled her soul. “Lady, if you don't tell me where it is, the next bullet goes in his head.” He moved the gun from her head to Ian's.
And she knew she'd have to tell.
“It's⦔
Ian struck, flinging a leg around his opponent's and pulling him to the floor with a crash. The man's gun skittered across the floor and Gina lunged for it.
“Gina, get out!” Ian hollered at her as he took a punch to the gut. Doubled over, he propelled his body forward to head-butt the man on the chin.
Gina hesitated, her fingers wrapped around the unfamiliar weapon. Her hands shook too hard to shoot straight.
But she had to try.
An elbow to Ian's cheek split it and the blood flowed. Handicapped by his wounded shoulder, he appeared to be weakening.
Sucking in a deep breath, she held the gun in front of her just like Joseph had taught her.
And froze when she felt something touch the back of her neck. “Put the gun down, Gina.”
Swallowing hard, defiance flowing, she held the gun steady. The pressure on her neck increased as Ian delivered a final punch to an exposed chin. His opponent went down and stayed there, eyes closed. Ian sagged against the fire
place, grasping the mantel to keep himself upright. He turned to find Gina held hostage, a gun to the back of her head.
Gasping, he winced at the damage his body had sustained. Gina trembled, desperate to run to him and make sure he would be all right.
But first they had to deal with the man standing behind her. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. Ian kept his eyes steady as they focused on the newcomer.
“Hello, Mac.”