Читать книгу Buried Secrets - Margaret Daley - Страница 8

Maggie latched on to the door handle, her grip so tight that her hand ached. Transfixed, she watched as Zach maneuvered the car around another curve. Each time he put his foot on the brake, nothing happened. Instead, the Corvette kept going faster.

“Do you have your seat belt on?” His voice held a razor-sharp tension.

Her hand trembled as she checked to make sure. “Yes.”

“Good. I’m going to try and slow us down as much as possible. If my memory serves me right, there’s a field near the bottom that’s pretty flat, right off the side of the road. Even if we make it there, Maggie, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

She tensed. The sound of metal grinding against metal thundered in her ears. Every muscle locked into place as the rugged terrain along the side of the road jarred her. Their speed decelerated when they hit a patch of level road, but not enough. Then the asphalt descended again down the side of the mountain.

A hundred things flew through her mind—regrets, wishes. There was so much she hadn’t done yet. She didn’t have anyone who really cared if she died here at the bottom of one of the steep ravines. The loss of her grandfather deluged her all over again.

Why, Lord? What are You doing?

Maggie saw the field Zach had mentioned up ahead. She held her breath as the car barreled off the road and over the rutted ground. Even with her grip on the door handle and her other hand on the console, she was tossed about. Her knee hit the dashboard. Her head snapped back. Pain raced up her leg and down her spine as the car slowed its speed, then came to an abrupt halt in a shallow ditch, throwing Maggie forward. Her seat belt cut across her chest and stole her breath.

Maggie straightened and pried her hand loose from the handle. Her heartbeat raced, and her breath came out in pants. Safe. Alive.

A moan pervaded the pounding in her ears, and she angled around to see if Zach was all right. Slowly he lifted his head from the steering wheel as he reached up to touch his forehead.

The growing darkness prevented her from seeing him well. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer.

She had been trained not to panic in an emergency, but in the back of her mind she realized how close they had come to dying. She wouldn’t let herself think about that now. There would be time later.

Ignoring the part of herself that would like to fall apart, she shoved her door open a few inches until the light came on. Then she turned to Zach to see how serious his injuries were. Blood trickled down his cheek as he stared at a point beyond the car.

“Zach,” she whispered, and gently touched his chin to bring his face around for her inspection.

He blinked, then finally focused his attention on her as she probed the gash above his right eye. Not too deep. She tried to maintain her professional facade, but their brush with death had left her vulnerable, stripped of her usual control. Her fingers on his forehead quivered.

“Will I live, Doc?” A huskiness edged his voice.

“Afraid so.” She dropped her hand away from him. The trembling spread to encompass her whole body. “I don’t even think this will require stitches. You should go to the hospital, though, in case you have a concussion.”

“No. I’ll be fine.” He reached back and pulled a T-shirt from a gym bag and mopped the blood from his face. “Believe me, I’ve suffered a lot worse than a bump on my forehead.”

The finality in his voice erased all arguments from Maggie’s lips. “Will you at least let me check you out—” she glanced about “—in better conditions?”

“Sure, later.” He tossed the bloodied shirt into the backseat. “But first, I’d like to get out of here.”

“Well, just in case you haven’t noticed, your car isn’t going anywhere.”

Zach withdrew his cell from his pocket and punched in a series of numbers. “Ray, Zach here. Can you pick me and a friend up? We’ve been in an accident.”

Maggie half listened as Zach gave his friend directions to where they were. Only for a few seconds had she glimpsed any vulnerability in him. He had just saved their lives with some spectacular driving, and now he was calmly taking charge, getting them a ride, calling a tow truck to pick up his car, as if brake failure were an everyday occurrence for him. Did anything get to this man? She watched him as he made his last call to the police. He was very much in control of his emotions, while she shivered from a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature.

If he ever loved someone, he would demand all of her because he didn’t invest himself easily. Whoa, where in the world had that observation come from? She was more shook up than she originally thought if she was putting Zach and love together in the same sentence.

Maggie ignored his words, but tuned in to the sound of his voice. It was rough and warm, slightly gritty, with an indisputable maleness to it that reflected the man. It was the reassuring voice of a person who was used to being in command, to making difficult decisions, possibly even involving dangerous matters. Suddenly a calmness descended on Maggie as though some of his strength had invaded her, soothing her.

“C’mon. Let’s wait near the road for Ray.” Zach tried his door, but it wouldn’t budge. He threw her a grin. “I guess I’ll use yours.”

She pushed on hers, but it didn’t move more than the few inches it was already open. “I think we’re stuck.”

“Here, let me see.” He reached across her body to shove at the door.

His clean, fresh scent overwhelmed her as he pressed against her. Her pulse reacted, racing through her as fast as they had driven down the mountain. His face, inches from hers, held her enthralled. She saw the tiny laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, the gleam that glittered in the gray depths. Her throat went dry.

An eternity later, the door gave way, and he twisted around so he looked directly at her. A connection, forged from a shared near-death experience, mesmerized her, binding them together. That realization should have panicked her, but for a few minutes it didn’t. It felt right—a Somers linked with a Collier.

Zach lifted his hand and grazed a finger down her cheek. He started to say something, but a car rounded the curve. A pair of headlights illuminated the ditch in front of them, and sent Zach back to his side of the car. While the vehicle passed them on the road, he gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

She resisted the urge to touch where his finger had. But his effect on her staggered her. A Collier was a taker, not a giver. Those were words she had heard many times from Gramps. She needed to remember them.

Without a word, Maggie stood on shaky legs, clasping the door to steady herself while Zach crawled over the seat and climbed out. He, too, grasped the car, his body so near that the hairs on her arm tingled.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked, needing to keep herself focused on being a doctor rather than a woman.

“I told you, I’m fine.” He released his grip. “When Ray comes, I think we should go to my place.” Before she could protest, he put his finger over her lips. “I don’t think this was an accident. That’s why I called the police. I want your car checked tomorrow before you drive it back to Santa Fe.”

Although she tried to ignore the feel of his touch against her mouth, it took her a long moment to gather her thoughts enough to say, “I can’t. I have patients to see first thing in the morning.”

Zach didn’t say anything. For the next fifteen minutes he went over the details of the accident with a police officer who had arrived and parked at the side of the road. The policeman had a few questions for Maggie, which she answered.

She held her arms close to her chest, but still the cold seeped into her bones. In the middle of the conversation, Zach walked to his trunk and withdrew a jacket. He placed it over Maggie’s shoulders, rubbing her arms up and down for a long moment. She wanted to lean back into his strength, to wipe the last hour from her mind, but the officer still had questions for them.

By the time Ray Parker pulled up, followed by the tow truck, Maggie was freezing even with the jacket on. Her teeth chattered, her body quaked. Finished with the police, Zach dealt quickly with the driver of the tow truck, then marshaled Maggie into his friend’s Ford Ranger. Zach introduced her to Ray, an associate at the college. She smiled her greeting, still too upset to say more than what was necessary.

In the front seat, Zach drew her against him, his arm about her. His warmth slowly chased the cold away the farther from the accident they went.

“What happened back there?” Ray slanted a glance at Zach.

“I’m not sure, other than the brakes failed at a crucial time.”

“You don’t think this has anything to do with Red’s death, do you?”

“Yes.”

That one word brought back all the distressing thoughts that Maggie had had over the past twenty-four hours. Robbery. Attempted murder. Murder. She wasn’t equipped to deal with those kinds of things. She was a healer. Caught between denial and seeking answers, she didn’t know what to do next. She needed time to think, to figure out how best to proceed.

Gramps murdered? Over the diary? Why now?

As Ray pulled up in front of what she assumed was Zach’s house, her head felt as though a jackhammer pounded against her skull. Her muscles ached, especially her neck, as if she had climbed the stairs to a fifty-story building. And the second Zach disengaged himself from her, the cold burrowed deeper into her bones. That reaction scared her. His presence was taking over her life. She didn’t give up control easily, if ever, to another human being. Even with the Lord she’d struggled with that.

“Come in, Ray. I need a favor.” Zach slipped from the cab. He offered Maggie his hand. For a long second she stared at it, almost afraid of what it would symbolize if she put hers in his. She’d always stood on her own two feet and not depended on another person, not even Gramps. She couldn’t allow herself to do it now, because the situation was complicated, possibly dangerous and definitely unusual.

Resisting his assistance, she climbed from the truck and pulled the jacket about her to ward off the cold. Zach stared at her for a moment, his arm dropping to his side.

As she trudged up the walk toward Zach’s adobe-style house, disquiet crackled in the air. Her knee throbbed where she’d hit the dashboard. Pain radiated from her neck, across her shoulders and down her back.

Inside, Zach flipped on a switch and light flooded his large, open living room, with its high ceiling. Masculine touches stamped the place, with Indian artifacts on the walls and tables. More like a museum, she thought as she surveyed the area before her. Any other time she would have appreciated his beautiful Indian art—collected from around the world, not just the United States—but at the moment the only thing she wanted to do was sleep for a week and forget what had happened.

Zach waved her toward a brown suede couch. “Sit. Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Soda? Tea?”

“No, I’m afraid I’d never go to sleep if I had any caffeine.” She wasn’t even sure she could fall asleep if she didn’t have it. But she knew if she didn’t sleep soon she wouldn’t be able to function for long, let alone figure out what was going on.

“Ray, anything to drink?”

Zach’s friend shook his head.

Zach took the chair across from Maggie while Ray sat at the other end of the sofa. Silence ruled for a few minutes. Maggie laced her fingers to keep them from quivering. As a doctor, she’d dealt with emergencies before, but they had always involved others. This one she was very much in the middle of. Memories of a time when she was thirteen taunted her. She pushed away thoughts of the past. She couldn’t go there.

“You’re safe here.” A hardness entered Zach’s gaze as it found hers. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Safe? I’m not sure what that word means anymore.” But his declaration had for a moment alleviated what panic and fear still resided in her.

“Are you sure you want to be alone tonight?”

“I have a friend I can call. Don’t worry about me.” I’ll do that enough for the both of us. “She lives down the street from me.”

Zach turned his attention to Ray. “May I borrow your truck to take Maggie back to Santa Fe?”

“Sure. You can just drop me off at home. It’s on the way.”

“We were lucky tonight.” Although Zach’s comment was directed at his friend, his gaze fastened on Maggie.

Ray frowned. “This is getting serious. Have you talked to the police?”

“We did tonight, but there isn’t much to go on. We won’t know why the brakes failed until tomorrow, when a mechanic looks at them. But I don’t need a mechanic to tell me they were tampered with.” His hard tone underscored each word of his last sentence.

“You aren’t thinking of going after these guys yourself, are you?” Ray sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You have a better suggestion?”

“Yes. Let the police do their job. Stay out of it.”

“I would, but someone is after the codices, and the police don’t have the time to look for whoever it is.”

“And you do? What about the expedition you’re planning for next month when the semester is over? We have the backers coming into town in a few days. They want to meet with you. There’s still a lot we need to do. Besides, you’ve got classes to teach.”

“This is important. I’ll make the time. You could always cover for me if the need arose. And I won’t miss the reception for the expedition backers.”

“Yes, but—” Ray snapped his mouth closed. “Forget it. I know that look. You aren’t going to give up until you learn the truth.”

“No, I’m not. Granddad is dead because of the codices. They are the key to what’s going on.”

The steel determination in Zach’s voice sent a tremor down Maggie’s spine. This man across from her was very capable of taking care of himself—and her, if she let him. She hoped they were on the same side, that he didn’t have a secret agenda concerning the Aztec codices and treasure. It was even possible there were three sides to this—Zach’s, hers and someone else’s.

“The expedition to the Amazon is important. Don’t forget that. I’ll do what I can to help, but you’re still the one heading it. The backers are funding it because of that.” Ray rose. “I think I do want something to drink.” When Zach made a move toward the kitchen, his friend said, “Sit. Rest. I know my way around. I’ll get it.”

When his associate left them alone, Maggie said, “He knows about the codices. Who else have you told?”

“He was with me when I discovered the break-in at my grandfather’s. I never told him about the diary.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Nor the fact I have a copy of the map.”

“Before you take me home, let me look at your head.” She needed to put space between them, but the doctor in her wouldn’t let her not offer to check out his cut.

“I’m fine.” Zach waved her off and started to stand.

“I seem to remember you telling me you’d let me look at you later. Well, for your information, later is here. Now.”

Coming to his feet, Zach towered over her. His gaze trapped hers. She found herself rising and standing so close to him that his scent surrounded her. Her heartbeat surged.

“Are you all right? I noticed you limping a little,” he said.

His tender look trekked down to her parched throat. She swallowed several times before answering, “I’m fine, and this little diversion won’t change my mind. I want to check you out before we leave.” She forced a lightness into her voice, even though the situation between them was quickly becoming serious, the connection they shared strengthening.

He smiled. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. I’ve never been fond of going to the doctor.”

“I’ve heard that before,” she said with a laugh. “Doesn’t change my mind. Do you have a first-aid kit?”

“Yes, I’ll get it.”

Light-headed, Maggie lowered herself onto the couch. Until he’d left the room, she hadn’t realized she hadn’t taken a decent breath since they had faced each other. Inhaling deeply now, she scanned the living room, trying to get a sense of the man who had taken over her life so effectively in the past day.

The colors of the room were the tan of the desert and the green of the barrel cactus. Beneath her feet was a beautifully woven Navajo Indian rug, worth a small fortune. The room was neat and orderly, much like her house except hers had a lived-in look while his didn’t. She got the impression he was rarely home. Again she thought of a museum as her regard took in his possessions.

“Okay, let’s get this over with.” Zach sat next to her and gave her the first-aid kit. “Did I mention I hate going to the doctor?”

“Yes. Too bad.”

She managed to block from her mind to whom she attended as she checked his gash, cleaned it then placed a bandage over it. If she hadn’t been able to block him from her mind, she was sure she would have been in trouble. Zach Collier was just too much for her to handle at this time in her life. She had everything mapped out for herself. Her career and new practice were what was most important at the moment. She had spent years becoming a doctor, with she and her grandfather both making sacrifices to pay for medical school. Maybe in a few years, when she was more established, she could think about something other than being a doctor. Who was she kidding? She knew the real reason she didn’t focus on her personal life, and it had nothing to do with her profession. How long was she going to let what had happened between her and Brad Wentworth dictate what she did with her life?

“Well, what’s the verdict, Doc?”

“Oh, I’d say at least another fifty thousand miles.” She shoved thoughts of Brad back into the far reaches of her mind.

“That’s comforting, since this bod may get a lot of wear and tear in the near future.”

“You really are going to pursue this?” She looked him directly in the eye.

“Yes.” All the tenderness in his expression vanished, and a ruthless determination appeared in its place. “To the end, Maggie. I won’t let these people get away with what they did to our grandfathers.”

She wanted to believe him in that moment—almost did. Except, for over thirty years she had been raised to hate, and especially never to trust, anyone with the last name Collier. There was a small part of her that still doubted him even after the brake failure. She felt that if she believed him she was betraying Gramps. “How will you pursue it, Zach?”

Raking his hand through his hair, he rose to prowl the room. “I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll find the clue in the map, after all.”

“But you said your grandfather studied it for years and could never find the answer.”

“I know. He thought he could break the code. If those people hadn’t gotten the diary, we might be able to figure out the mystery of the codices.”

She busied herself putting the bandages and medicine back into the first-aid kit, while the scent of coffee drifted toward her. Something was going on. She didn’t doubt that anymore. But she had no idea who was behind it. It could still be Zach. The one thing she did know was that she wasn’t equipped to solve the mystery of the codices by herself. If anything was going to be done, it would have to be done as a team.

A team. The words vibrated in her mind, conjuring up images of she and Zach working closely together, his thoughts hers, his actions a perfect mirror of hers. A warmth suffused her and made her hands quiver as she closed the lid on the kit and set it on the end table.

I hope I’m not making a big mistake. She inhaled a deep breath to fortify herself and said, “Zach, I have something to tell you.”

He stopped pacing and faced her. Although his expression became unreadable, his body grew taut.

“I have the diary,” she whispered. She clutched the arm of the couch and waited for his wrath.

He closed the space between them, his gaze straying toward the kitchen. “Where?” The deadly quiet of his voice unnerved her more than if he had shouted the question.

“My grandfather gave it to me on my thirtieth birthday. I used to keep it in my armoire.”

“Used to?”

She hated the way he stared at her with no emotion in his features, in his voice. “This afternoon, before I came to Albuquerque, I put it in a safety-deposit box.”

He turned toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“I’m taking you home. There isn’t anything more we can do tonight.”

“What about the diary? I thought you wanted it.”

He whipped around to confront her, his expression no longer blank but full of fury, all directed at her. “What do you suggest I do? Break into the bank to get it?”

“No.”

He walked back to her. “Do you want me to applaud you for being such a good liar? I actually believed they had the journal.”

The full force of his rage bombarded her—although his voice had never risen above a whisper—as he came to a halt in front of her. She released her grip on the arm of the couch and craned her neck upward until their gazes clashed. “I didn’t lie,” she said. “The diary wasn’t at my grandfather’s.”

“Oh, I see. You like to play word games.” He invaded her space completely, hovering over her. “What other games do you like to play?”