Читать книгу Shock Wave - Dana Mentink - Страница 11

TWO

Sage’s knees were shaking, but it wasn’t from an earthquake. Those mischievous eyes, the dimples carved into his cheeks, the lazy twang of his Southern accent. Trey Black could not be here in the wreck of an opera house. Worse yet, it was not possible that her stomach stirred at the sight of him, nerves jangling at the touch of his big hands.

No, no, no.

It was not right, her attraction for this man that started the moment she’d clapped eyes on him. Romance had no place in a combat zone. And it had no place now, when she wanted to forget she’d ever set foot in Afghanistan and finally had something important to focus on, something that might allow her to escape the smothering blanket of PTSD that nearly crippled her.

She could feel him, sense his big presence in the stairwell behind her, and she quickened her pace. It was a useless effort. Trey Black would not approve of her trotting off into a potentially dangerous situation by herself. A woman doesn’t belong around danger, he’d told her calmly with that half-teasing tone. Part of her was flattered, the other part was infuriated. He was a chauvinist. She was every bit as capable, or at least she had been before her self-confidence had blown away in an angry chatter of bullets. Way down deep at the bottom of her fury, she had the dreaded feeling that maybe Trey Black had been right.

Afghanistan had been a nightmarish combination of unbelievable courage and silent grief. She saw it in the eyes of the soldiers when one of their comrades fell and behind their stoic expressions when things went bad. And she’d forced herself in, obtaining approval by using her connections. So where did the blame really belong?

She shook her head to clear it.

Don’t go back there.

Her cell phone chimed and she answered it, still moving down the stairs.

A deep voice filled the line. “It’s Derick.”

That brought her up short. She could picture his fiftysomething face, still with that luminous big-screen quality and easy charm, the perfect thatch of sandy hair. “Hello. It’s good to hear from you.”

He blew out a breath. “I was worried. Are you all right? Just had another quake and the Imperial is a collapse waiting to happen. I was afraid you might be buried alive.”

She wondered how he knew she was at the opera house. “I’m okay. A chunk of ceiling came down.”

He gasped. “You must leave there immediately. It’s not safe and Barbara would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

She wished she could hear Barbara say those words. “I’m on my way out right now. What can I do for you?”

“I want you to reconsider staying with us here. I know Barbara wouldn’t want you to be in a hotel, especially with all these quakes happening. We’ve got plenty of extra rooms, even with Antonia staying in the guest house.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“You’ve been worried about Barbara.” He laughed. “You think I’ve stuffed her away in some closet, I gather.”

“No, of course not,” she said, mentally berating herself for not taking things slower with Derick. “I just worry about her, with her pregnancy and all. It didn’t seem like a reasonable idea to take a trip when she’s due to deliver twins in a matter of weeks.”

He sighed. “Anyone who knows Barbara would agree that she is one headstrong lady. That’s what I love about her. It’s maddening, but we make it work for the most part.”

Sage didn’t know what to say about that. He sounded perfectly sincere, but he was an actor. It was his job to sound sincere. To hear him tell it, his career was in top form, but she’d heard rumblings of financial hardship, bad investments. Maybe it was just rumors. Maybe not.

“I just want you to know I received an email from her today,” he continued.

Sage’s heart sped up. Had she been wrong about everything? “That’s great. What did she say?”

“I’ll read it straight from the screen. ‘So enjoying my time in Santa Fe. Tell Sage to photograph only the front lobby of the Imperial. The rest is a wreck, too dangerous. Will call soon, love and kisses, Barbara.’”

The silence stretched between them until Derick spoke again. “Sage? Did you hear that? Are you still there?”

“Yes,” she managed. “I’m here. Thank you for sharing that with me. I appreciate it.” Her tone sounded wooden to her own ears.

“No trouble at all. Is Antonia with you, by chance?”

Sage wasn’t sure how to answer. “No,” she said. “Why?”

“I need to make sure she’s okay, and we have some business. If you see her, can you have her phone me?” He cleared his throat. “It’s rather urgent. I’ve tried calling her cell, but no answer.”

“Of course.”

“I am on my way down to the theater to make sure everything is locked up properly.”

Her stomach tightened, but she forced a light tone. “I thought you had a caretaker for that.”

“I do, but Rosalind thinks more highly of him than I do. Abandoned buildings are a beacon for the homeless or kids up to no good.” He chuckled. “I told Barbara the Imperial was an enormous black hole, sucking up money and attracting trouble like nobody’s business. She never did see things my way.”

Something about the statement chilled Sage.

“She loves the Imperial.”

“Yes, she does.”

“Promise me you won’t go back inside.”

She tried for a light tone. “I never make promises anymore.”

He hesitated. “Well, at least I can be sure you don’t go in there alone. I’ll be along shortly. Goodbye, Sage.”

Sage clicked off the phone. She hadn’t realized she’d stopped moving until Trey joined her on the wide step. So Derick needed to see Antonia urgently. Not until Sage got to her first.

“Trouble?” he asked.

She nodded. “My cousin Barbara is missing.”

He frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Because her husband told me she left a message directing me to photograph the front lobby only.”

Trey frowned. “And?”

Sage locked eyes with Trey. “I spoke to her ten days ago. She wanted me to shoot every corner of the Imperial to document the remodeling project from the basement to the rafters. My cousin never does things halfway.”

“So if the email is made up, sounds like he doesn’t want you wandering around in this opera house.” The concern on Trey’s face deepened. “Been to the police?”

She shook her head. “I have an appointment this afternoon, but first I was going to...um, check on something.”

“Sage,” he started.

“Okay, okay. I just need to talk to Antonia Verde. She’s the painter Derick hired. I saw her at the house and she was having a heated discussion with Derick. Very heated. They both clammed up when they saw me, but Antonia knows something. Several times I got the sense she wanted to talk to me, but she didn’t want him to overhear. So we made an arrangement to meet at the theater tonight, but she got here before me. She’s not answering her cell, so I figured I’d snoop around until I found her.” Her cheeks warmed.

He raised an eyebrow. “Going into the detecting business? You don’t seem cut out for that.”

I’m not cut out for anything anymore. Sleepless nights. Panic attacks. Flashbacks and worst of all, the sense that she was dead inside. She forced her chin up. “I’m just here to talk to Antonia.”

“This place...”

“I know, I know. It’s not safe to stay here. I should wait outside while you go commando and find Antonia yourself, but the fact of the matter is, I’m not going to obey orders.”

“Imagine my shock and disbelief.” He sighed, the sound bouncing along the darkened stairwell as he picked up a pack she hadn’t noticed before and handed her his flashlight.

Surprised, she took it from his calloused fingers. “You gave up easily.”

“No, ma’am. I’m army and we don’t give up. We just get the job done.” His tone was bitter.

Sage huffed. “So you’re going to shadow my every move until I leave this place?”

“That’s an affirmative.”

“You aren’t a soldier anymore.”

Her attempt to rile him didn’t work. He shot her a lazy smile. “Consider me your friendly neighborhood carpenter. You never know when you might need a guy with a bag of tools.”

Biting back a remark, Sage led the way down the stairwell toward the orchestra seating where the nearest exit would be. Maybe Antonia had gone right for it after the last quake, and if they didn’t hurry, she’d make it outside before they caught up.

Wally pranced ahead of them and disappeared.

Suddenly she heard a shrill bark.

A figure loomed out of the darkness, and Sage screamed.

In a moment Trey was in front of her.

Heart pounding, she couldn’t see around Trey’s blocky shoulders until he stepped to the side to reveal an old man, bald head shining in the lantern light. Wally stood next to him, tail wagging vigorously. Even the gloom could not hide the look of irritation on the man’s face.

“Whaddya doing here?” he demanded of Sage, thrusting his lantern in her direction.

Trey held up a calming hand. “Hey, Fred. Sage, this is Fred Tipley, the caretaker. Wally is his dog. I thought you were going to pack up your apartment today, Fred. Isn’t that why you asked me to check in on Wally?”

“Forgot something,” Fred grumbled, eyeing the dog. “I was just on my way back to my truck. Seems Wally busted out of the utility room again.” The look he gave the dog pawing at his pant leg softened the edges of his face. “You’re a troublemaker, Wally, sure enough,” he said, giving the dog a pat. His eyes narrowed as he straightened. “Where’d you find him? Not safe to go poking around this place.”

“He found me,” Trey said. “No poking involved.”

He pointed a gnarled finger at Sage. “What about her?”

Sage gave him a smile. “I’m working for Barbara Long. I’m her cousin, actually. She asked me to take some pictures.”

“Not now, she didn’t. Miss Rosalind would have called me. She manages things here, not Barbara.”

Sage eyed him closely. “Barbara and her husband own this theater and I’ve got permission to be here.”

He grumbled some more. “Dumb idea to come here in the dark. Wood’s rotted. Plenty of places to hurt yourself. Didn’tcha feel that earthquake? Been happening on and off all day. Ain’t you got no sense?”

Trey raised his voice a notch. “Fred, we’re just finishing up here and then we’re leaving for the day. I can keep Wally with me so you can go pack and I’ll make sure the doors are locked when I leave, okay? Call me when you get settled into your new place and I’ll bring Wally.”

“Nah, never mind about that. My plans have changed. I’m here now so it’s you two that need to go.”

Sage bent to pet the dog that was sniffing at her shoes. “When was the last time you saw Barbara, Fred?”

He answered with a shrug. “Can’t remember. While ago. Heard she was in New Mexico or something.”

Right. A very pregnant woman travels to Santa Fe at a moment’s notice.

“Did you ever talk to her?”

“Maybe once or twice.”

“Did she hire you to work at the Imperial?”

He folded his wiry arms across his chest. “Why the third degree? I just make sure the doors stay locked and keep trespassers out.”

Had he been the one who left her trapped? Sage saw from the tight set to his lips that she was not going to get any more information from him. A bead of sweat rolled down his wrinkled forehead and he swiped it away with the back of his hand. She would find out what she could about Fred Tipley and definitely mention him to the police that afternoon.

She felt Trey’s gaze on her. He quirked an eyebrow. Done with your interrogation, detective? his eyes seemed to say.

Not anywhere close to done. Not until I find Antonia.

A metallic clank startled them all. Fred whirled in the direction of the stage. “You hear that? Someone’s there.”

“It’s probably Antonia,” Sage said, starting down the stairs again.

“What is she doin’ backstage? I heard she was hired to paint the frescoes in the lobby only,” Fred muttered. “Don’t nobody do what they’re told anymore?”

“Maybe she got disoriented in the dark,” Trey said. He tried to edge ahead of Sage but she elbowed him back.

“Now you gotta stop right there,” Fred said, stepping in front of them. “Miss Rosalind said no one is to be messing around here. I could lose my job.”

Trey called over his shoulder as they went around him, “Fred, I’ll take care of things. We’ll locate this other trespasser and I will personally escort all of us out of this place.”

Fred made no attempt to follow, but his voice carried along the stairwell. “It ain’t right. I’m gonna have to call Miss Rosalind. It ain’t right. Wally, come here.”

The dog barked and darted off again, eliciting an angry tirade from Fred.

Trey kept pace behind her and Sage felt a twinge of guilt. She called to him. “Rosalind may not take this well. I don’t want to cost you your job or anything.”

“A job is a job. I can get another one. I’m mostly just biding time, watching my brother’s place while he’s away.” He paused. “How about you? Where do you call home?”

“Nowhere,” she said, angry at herself for saying it out loud. “Not here, anyway. I’m just in San Francisco for Barbara.”

“Kind of risking your relationship with the Longs, aren’t you? Chances are you are going to be out of Derick’s good graces after Fred makes his report.”

She nodded. “I’m willing to take the chance. After I talk to the cops this afternoon, I don’t think Mr. Long is going to ask me in for tea.”

They took the rest of the steps as fast as they dared until they found themselves at tall metal doors that marked the stage entrance. Her skin prickled as she imagined the walls closing in on them, the darkness reaching out from behind to snatch them. Anxiety burgeoned in her belly like the clouds of dust that erupted under their feet. No panic attacks now. She could not stand the humiliation of turning into a helpless hysterical lump in front of Trey.

After a deep breath, Sage grabbed the handle and yanked.

“It’s locked,” she groaned. “Antonia must have gone to the other side. We’ll have to double back.”

Trey took her hand before she could leave. He pulled her closer and she felt the warmth of his body, the scent of soap on his skin. Her pulse quickened.

“Hang on, there. I think I can help with this.” He fished something out of his pocket and bent over the lock, his back blocking her view. In a moment, he pushed the door open and turned to her with a cocky grin.

She gaped. “How did you do that?”

“I have skills.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged and held up the key ring. “Fred gave me a spare set so I could get in and check on the dog. He forgot to take them back.”

She grinned, her face unaccustomed to the expression. “So I guess you really do have skills.” For a moment, things were easy between them and she wondered what it would be like if he really was just a carpenter and she just a photographer meeting for the first time. Silly thought. Too much hurt. Too much anger. Her heart was a twisted, blighted thing that would not be salved by daydreams.

His grin turned serious, swallowed up as they stepped through the double doors into the tomblike darkness.