The Secret Night. Rebecca York
“Alex Shane. With the Light Street Detective Agency. I was hired to investigate the disappearance of a woman named Anabel Lewis. I have reason to think she’s at the Refuge. Do you know her?”
Feeling light-headed, as if she might actually faint, Emma tried to gather her wits. “Anabel. Yes. I do know her. She sleeps in the room next to mine.”
“So she’s okay?”
“As okay as you can be at the Refuge.”
“Tell me about it.” He looked around. “Let’s get out of here.”
“How did you find me?”
“I was doing some surveillance, and I saw you on Caldwell’s dock—fighting with some woman. Then I heard shouting, and I saw you take off in the rowboat.”
Emma sighed. “The woman is my sister. She ratted me out to Caldwell’s guards. She’s… This isn’t going to make any sense to you, I know, but she’s under some kind of mind control—brainwashed, or something. That’s what Caldwell does to people. Your Anabel Lewis is in the same shape.”
“It does make sense. But come on, we’d better get out of here.” As he spoke, he ushered her along the shore.
Suddenly, from the darkness of the woods, she heard the crackle and tromping of feet running through the underbrush. Then came men’s voices, low and urgent.
“This way. I saw her land a few minutes ago.”
“But the boat’s—”
“I don’t give a damn about the boat. I tell you, I saw her land. She’s got to be around here somewhere.”
Swift as a hawk in the night, Alex Shane grabbed Emma and pulled her into the woods, behind a clump of tall, straight pine trees. A few seconds later, two men rushed past.
She heard the rustle of fabric. Then moonlight glinted off a gun in Shane’s hand. Neither one of them spoke as more men moved toward them, their voices lower now.
She felt Shane tense. Lord, would he really shoot these guys? Her knees weakened as the men moved past them.
Shane waited to make sure nobody else was coming, then he took her hand, whispering, “Come on.”
Without any urging, she followed as he led her through the woods to the lawn surrounding the well-lit mansion. They skirted the house, then walked through another stand of trees to the edge of the road, where an SUV was parked beneath a tangle of vines. In the darkness, the sweet smell of honeysuckle drifted toward her.
She collapsed into the front seat as Shane started the engine, pulled onto the road and drove away. He didn’t turn on his lights, though, until they’d traveled at least a couple of miles.
“So how did you end up at the Refuge?” he asked.
Emma drew a couple of steadying breaths before answering. “My sister took a self-actualization course from Damien Caldwell and decided to burrow in. I came to try to dig her out. That was two weeks ago. I’ve been pretending to be a believer, but…well, I’m not much of an actress. Caldwell knew I was faking it, and…and I heard him tell one of his henchmen he was going to kill me.”
He whistled through his teeth. “Lucky you got away.”
“They probably would have snagged me over here if you hadn’t come along. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. The Refuge is a scary place these days. I’ve been over by boat, at night, a couple of times.” He looked regretful. “If this were the bad old days, I would have stayed and tried to forcibly collect Ms. Lewis. But I’ve got a wife and two kids now, so risking life and limb is no longer part of the job description.”
“You risked your neck just spying over there.”
He snorted. “Those odds were acceptable. I worked for the previous owner of the estate,” Shane continued. “I know what the layout used to be. Tell me what you think has been changed since Caldwell took over—things that look new or like they might have been altered.”
“It probably looks like it always did, except that the bedrooms on the upper floors have been divided up and turned into dormitories, with communal bathrooms added.”
“So what are you going to do about your sister?”
She hesitated a moment, questioning the wisdom of sharing her plans with a stranger. But then, the stranger had saved her butt. Besides, she knew intuitively that Alex Shane was on the side of the angels.
“As a matter of fact,” she said, “I had another detective in mind.”
“Who?” he inquired.
“A man named Nicholas Vickers.”
“Don’t know him.”
Well, so much for recommendations. “Apparently he had a run-in with Caldwell. I’m hoping that puts him on my side.”
Shane was quiet for a minute or two. Then, seeming to come to a decision, he said, “If I know an operation is going down, I might be able to get some guys from our agency to act as backup.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a card. “As I said, I’m with the Light Street Detective Agency. The main office is in Baltimore, but I hold down the fort on the eastern shore.”
“Thanks,” Emma said, taking the card and shoving it into her handbag. They had reached the center of St. Stephens.
“Do you live around here?” Shane asked.
“No, I’m from Manitou Springs, Colorado.”
“You’re a long way from home.” He was silent for a moment, chewing his bottom lip. “It’d be easier for you to evade Caldwell in a city—some place big enough to get lost and stay lost. What if I drive you into Baltimore?”
Again, she had to fight off the tears clogging her throat. “You’d do that for me?”
“Sure.” He tossed her a crooked grin. “I admire your grit. Besides, you could turn out to be a valuable witness against Caldwell.”
She sighed. “Yeah, but he’s careful. And his worshippers are loyal. Even if the cops raided the place tonight, I bet they wouldn’t come up with any evidence that would lead to an arrest.”
“Caldwell may be careful, but nobody’s perfect,” Shane said. “He’ll have slipped up somewhere. Until we find his Achilles heel, we need to keep you safe. So let me tell my wife I’m driving you across the Bay Bridge.”
He pulled the SUV onto the shoulder and picked up his cell phone. Emma listened to his conversation with his wife—she could hardly have avoided it—and was impressed with how warm and close their relationship obviously was.
Funny how it still surprised her that there were people who could make marriage work. She found it reassuring, even if she herself hadn’t yet managed the feat. She’d long since stopped getting involved with complete jerks and losers, but it occurred to her that she’d gone to the opposite extreme by dating men so dull and lacking in passion that they bored her to tears.
Maybe, someday, she’d find a middle ground….
“All set.” Shane dropped his cell phone into a cup holder, pulled back onto the road and headed out of town.
Exhausted, Emma slumped in her seat and, without meaning to, fell asleep. When she woke, Shane had pulled up in front of a Days Inn.
“You’re about three blocks from the inner harbor,” he said. “There are lots of places there to shop, if you need to replace your clothes and stuff.”
“Thanks, yes, I will have to,” Emma replied.
“This hotel isn’t the most expensive around, but it isn’t cheap.” He cleared his throat. “Do you have enough money for the bill?”
“I have a credit card.”