Guarding the Treasure (23 page)

“Ah, Sophie, our little college professor has finally emerged.” Smith checked his watch. “A long two-day sleep,” he said, laughing under his breath.

Why did that amuse him? Sophie wondered as she made her way down the stairs to the table and took a seat. He sat across from her and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I'm sure you have many questions, lass. Some I will answer, and some I will not.” He leaned back. “Where are you in the diary, Sophie,” he asked, sipping his drink.

She felt contempt for him as he looked at her. “Why should that matter, Professor?” she asked, a distinct edge in her voice. “You've shown me Goregoo, you've already interpreted the entire diary for me, and I leave in a few days, so I—”

He rose quickly, his legs knocking the chair and sending it to the floor. He walked over to her chair and planted his hands down hard on either side of her, leaning over her body. “There's one thing you'd better get through your thick head, Ms. Hanes. I call the shots around here,” he said, his breath hot on the side of her face. He straightened and sat on the tabletop next to her.

She could see the sweat forming on his brow as before, his demeanor shifting from calm to disgustingly animated. That was it, that something familiar she felt. His constant change in behavior, his shifting thoughts, it was the same darkness Anya felt around her brother. Professor Smith had something to do with all this, just as Sean had in the diary.

“Answer me, Sophie,” he said, pushing the words out from between his clenched teeth. “Where are you in the diary?”

She squeezed her folded hands, her body tightened. “Anya has been sent to spend time with Mr. Dubois in France,” she said, trying to ease away from him.

His eyes pierced hers as he leaned toward her once again. “Do you know what she experienced with Mr. Dubois the first time, Sophie?” he asked, his voice laced with bitterness.

Sophie was now more frightened than she had ever been in her life. His eyes were evil and full of malice.

“Mr. Dubois isn't such a nice guy the second time around, and knowing that you are such a history buff, I thought it fitting that you experience what your beloved Anya experienced, you know, make history come to life. Tonight there's going to be a party, and you will be a part of it. Your Mr. Dubois will be present, and—” He smiled, dabbing his brow with a white handkerchief from his suit pocket. “Well, if you want to know what happens next, then you need to do your homework and prepare for what lies ahead.”

He smirked wickedly as he caressed her cheek.

Professor Smith motioned for the man who had watched her bathe. “Stay with her today. Take her around the estate, see if you can get her to laugh a little and loosen up before you help her to dress for the evening,” he said, making eye contact only with the young man.

The man took her hand, helping her to her feet.

“Oh, and Ms. Hanes, I think you would do well to do as I say. Read up on the events that may await you.” His smile morphed into a hideous laugh.

“There's nothing else to talk to these people about, Gates. We've searched the house and grounds for evidence. We need to go,” Taylor said, turning to thank the owners of Goregoo castle for their cooperation.

“The wall, Taylor,” Gates said, slamming the car door. “There was nothing on that rock wall.” Kevin thought again about what Theresa had said, they'd find her near a wall.

Taylor pulled the car onto the blacktop and headed back to Dool.

“What are you doing? We need to keep going north, start searching other areas for her.”

“Where Gates? We've hit a dead end.” He glanced over at his partner. “The most important thing we need is some sleep. Neither of us is thinking clearly right now. Let's get a couple of hours, and then we can map out the area north before we start searching again.”

Kevin grew quiet as he watched the road pass by. He felt powerless, impotent. He rubbed his eyes. “You think you're so smart,” she'd say when he figured out crossword puzzles before her. And then the night they'd sat and looked at the moon through his telescope. He'd told her about its different phases and how the moon created moods in people that caused them to do uncontrollable things. His heart ached as thoughts of her rolled around in his mind. He remembered how she'd looked at him as he kissed her fingers and told her stories about what the lines in her hand meant. She listened to him and believed every word he said. Kevin continued to indulge his mind in the memory of that evening. How he'd kissed her with complete freedom, no reservations. He'd enjoyed liberties with her that she had put the brakes on for the past three months or longer.
Sophie, I lied to you,
he thought.
Not about the moon and the moods, but about the lines in your hand. I don't know a thing about that. Nothing at all, babe.
He rehearsed it in his head as they drove. He needed to tell her that when they found her.

“Gates,” Taylor said, slowing the vehicle. Gates was a million miles away. Taylor knew he'd be of little use if he couldn't focus on what was at hand. “I know this is hard for you, man, but you've got to stay with me. From now on, I'm taking the lead. My head's a little clearer.”

Kevin sat, staring out the window. “We've got to find her, Taylor. She's in trouble.”

Taylor's eyebrows furrowed as he gave his partner a concerned look. “Let's catch a couple hours sleep, and then we'll discuss our next move.”

 

Six o'clock seemed to be the magic hour for both men. They couldn't sleep, and they went to Folks Pub to pore over maps of the northern sections of Dool again.

“I remember some of these areas from three years ago, Taylor. As I recall, all the prime areas were dead ends.” He shook his head. “I don't see anything new here.”

“Are you sure you're not missing something, Gates? Things can change, you know.”

Kevin's eyes moved to the map once more. “The landmarks and roads are the same as when Gipson and I searched. I think I've covered all the bases,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face. “I've talked with a few people who know the northern region like the back of their hands, and they say things are pretty much the same. We just don't have any leads,” he said, frustrated as he leaned back in his chair.

Taylor's fingers tapped a continual beat on the table. “Hey, your friend Theresa said the diary was like a map, right?”

Kevin looked up at him. “Yes, but—”

“Did you bring your copy with you?” Kevin reached into his bag for the diary. “She also said it was full of plays on words, remember?” Taylor took the folder. “Where'd you stop reading?”

“Theresa said page ninety-nine talked about the wall. That's as far as I got,” he said, watching Taylor flip through the pages.

“From what I can tell, it looks like we've gone over this section. Let me look ahead,” he said. “Anya is talking about her trip to France and how she is to stay with the Frenchman, Mr. Dubois. Listen to this:

“Diary, my brother has been pressured by his associate to send me to France. I cannot live through any more of this. I have no one at my side to counsel me or to give me direction. My friend, Olivia— my friend on the good road as Three had called her—is far from me. If this is the last of my life, then I shall be happy for it, for I have been deserted by all that I have cared about—my father, Olivia, even Three has been silent since I left the castle. I fear this man more than I have feared my own brother and almost wish death upon myself.”

Taylor looked at Gates. “She's been moved.”

“Anya's been moved. So? The last clue from the diary was wrong. It's not a reliable source.”

Taylor ignored him. “Don't you see? If this is a roadmap, then we need to assume that everything that happened to Anya is going to happen to Sophie.”

Kevin sat, staring at the folder. “France? Do you really think she's been taken to France?”

Taylor continued to read. “No, not France, but just to be on the safe side, I think we need to do some checking on that. Why don't you get on the phone with A. J. and get that process started? I'll keep reading.”

Kevin informed A. J. of their suspicions. “They're going to check all the points of departure from the country,” Kevin said, sitting down at the table. “If they come up with anything, they'll give us a call.

“Good,” Taylor said, looking at the next entry. “She's arrived at Mr. Dubois' Castle.”

“Another castle, does she describe it?”

“No, not in this entry. It sounds like she's been hurt, but she doesn't describe how or why. And now the Spirit she's been talking with has returned to her.” He read from the diary.

“Anya, did you think that I had not journeyed with you? Did you not know that we are sojourners? Must I continually remind you that I will never leave you?”

“Three, I did think you left me, allowing me to suffer at the hands of a horrible man, but now I see even in my pain that you had not left me alone.”

“You questioned your friend on the good path. She is far from you, but will guide others to you. I have put strong men in place to rescue you in your greatest time of need.”

“Three, I have been living in need, why have you not sent them before?”

“There is a time for everything under the sun, dear Anya. I know of the time, and you do not. You must be patient with me and allow things to progress in the interest of all.”

“Do my ears hear that I am to suffer for others still in the interest of all?”

“Your life is not your own. It is a story of renewed hope for others who may suffer at the hands of those as you have.”

“How can I understand all your ways, Three? I cannot, so I will lay my head down to sleep for now as I wait for this pain to leave my body. Three, I must believe that you will continue to watch over me, or I may die.”

“That's the end of the entry. This is one trusting woman,” Taylor said, stretching his arms behind his head.

Kevin leaned on the table. “Let me get this straight. From what you just read, we need to assume that Sophie's been incapacitated and is in a place where she's safe and can rest?”

“We don't know that for sure, how about we assume the worst. Then we won't be surprised if something out of the ordinary happens. You know as well as I do that in our business, things are usually worse than we think.”

Kevin pulled his phone from his jacket. “I'm calling Theresa.” He slid his finger across the screen. “You know what I think, Taylor? If we're going to believe that the diary is a map, then I think Theresa's our Olivia,” he said, putting the phone to his ear. “Maybe now that she's had some sleep, she'll have some answers for us.”

“Gates?” Theresa answered.

“Yeah, Theresa, and before you say anything—yes, I know what time it is. I've been through that drill with Sophie. Taylor and I have been reading the diary, trying to stumble on some answers. Are you awake enough to help us out?”

“I think so,” she said groggily. “Give me a minute to get to my computer,” she said, holding the line. “Okay, so tell me what you found at the wall.”

“Nothing, she's not at Goregoo, Theresa. The wall was a dead end.”

“Is Taylor with you?”

“Yeah, he's right here.”

“Put me on speaker. Gates, I want both of you to hear me. I'm only going to say this once, so listen up. As I told you earlier, there's a lot to this diary. I'm assuming you read that Anya was sent to France, correct?”

“Yeah, that's where we are right now. How did you know?” Kevin asked.

“I don't know how, I just do. I also know that you suspect Sophie's been taken out of the country. You're incorrect. Ms. Hanes is still in Ireland.”

Taylor nodded his head in agreement as he met Kevin's fixed eyes.

“Do you have your diary open?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I want you to read the next entry.”

“Anya is describing the castle of Mr. Dubois,” Taylor said. “It sounds similar to Goregoo, but we've already—”

She cut him off. “You're not reading between the lines, gentlemen. Could there be another castle in the area?”

Gates and Taylor glanced at one another. “There are some,” Taylor said, “but the few that remain are either privately owned or have been turned into tourist sites.”

“Besides Theresa, we searched several castles three years ago on that cold case and they all proved to be dead ends,” Gates said.

“She's in a castle, guys. You've got to look again, but this time look for something with a French flair to it. It may sound French, or just have that look about it. Maybe it's not visible from the outside, maybe it's in the décor or something. I'm not sure. Another thing I found interesting in this section of the diary was how Anya talked about the servants. They were sensual, seductive, and perfectly intimate in the way they attended to her.”

“Yeah, she says she's treated like a princess, waited on hand and foot, but she also says there was something amiss,” Taylor said, reading from the diary as he spoke.

“Yes, I believe Anya's words are twofold. The way she's cared for was definitely fit for a princess. And where do you find a princess? In a castle. Then look at the next line. She talked about the staff, perhaps a little too friendly? My guess is she's paralleling them with the Frenchman Mr. Dubois whose affections weren't desirable either. I also believe the feeling she refers to is a lack of trust. That undoubtedly is in the man and situation she finds herself in. I think this is a direct clue to Sophie.”

Kevin pushed away from the table and stood. “All right, I can see that, but we're still in the dark about where she is, Theresa, and until we can get to her there's no way to ensure her safety.”