Bobbi Smith (11 page)
Authors: Heaven
Philip and Robert both chuckled evilly. “Feel free, my dear, but no one will believe you. You’ll just be wasting precious time. The men who gave us those letters are the same ones who hold the key to your father’s fate. They aren’t going to do anything until they hear from us.”
Her moment of valor failed as she realized there was no escape from their treachery. She was trapped. “What do you want me to do?”
“We want the books.”
“There’s no way I can get them all.”
“Why not?”
“Other people are involved. There’s Father Bradford and . . .”
“Father Bradford?” The brothers shared a look.
“Yes, and another man I haven’t yet met. I don’t even know his name. You’re welcome to my book right now if it will free my father from jail, but it won’t do you any good by itself. According to Father Bradford, the three books must be used together or the clues won’t make sense.”
“How soon were you planning to start the search?”
“When I spoke with him the day before yesterday, he was going to wait until my father returned.”
“All right. If you want to see your father alive again, contact this Father Bradford right away and tell him you’ve changed your mind. Tell him that you’ve heard from your father and that he’s going to be delayed in London. Tell him that you’ve reconsidered and don’t want to wait for him to return. Tell him you want to leave immediately.”
“And then what?”
“Go find the crown. We’ll find ways to keep in touch with you. Just know that we’ll be watching you every minute, and we’ll know exactly what you’re doing.” The threat in his words was blatant and heartless.
Alex glared at him as she answered, “I’ll remember.”
“Good. Very good. Father always said you were bright. I can see now that he was right.”
“Remember, Alex, your father’s life depends on how well you see this through. Don’t let anyone else know we’re involved. Once you find the crown and get it to us, we’ll see that your father is freed.”
“Don’t think we’re not serious. I’d hate to see your father hang for murder. Wouldn’t you?”
“Don’t worry,” she told them tersely. “I’ll get the crown for you.”
Alex watched them as they left. She was terrified, but she was also angry. They were the most vile men she’d ever met, and while they did have power over her, if she could find a way to outsmart them without endangering her father, she would do it.
Satisfied that they’d made their point and were on their way to great riches, Philip and Robert headed back to the hotel where they’d taken a room.
“Alex said a Father Bradford was the one she’d already spoken with, isn’t that right?” Robert broached the subject that puzzled him.
“Yes,” Philip answered. “Surprising, isn’t it, since the real Father Bradford is dead?”
“Perhaps our friend Winn Bradford is trying to claim the crown for himself.”
“We’re going to have to make sure that doesn’t happen. The arrogant bastard . . .”
“After the way he treated us, I’m going to be glad to bring the high and mighty Winn Bradford down.”
Six
Winn was surprised to find that the address he’d been given for Matthew McKittrick was a bookstore. He entered the small shop to find it seemingly deserted of people but crammed with books. Books were everywhere, stacked in what looked to be random piles and stuffed in bookcases that ran floor-to-ceiling from one end of the store to the other. The shop was a booklover’s dream.
Glancing at some of the various titles, Winn realized the owner had eclectic tastes. Subjects ran from light fiction to heavy historical reference works. He paged through a few as he waited close by the front desk for someone to come, but when no one appeared right away, he knew he had to do something.
“Is anyone here?” Winn finally called out.
“Be with you in just a minute. I’m in the back putting some books away,” came the muffled reply from somewhere in the rear of the store.
Winn wandered down an aisle and paused before a large collection of books on Ancient Egypt. Intrigued, he picked up one that looked particularly interesting. He was lost in thought, studying the volume when a man spoke from behind him.
“May I help you?” Matt asked as he approached him. He’d just finished shelving the books and had returned to the front to see who’d come in. When he saw the tall man in black standing with his back to him halfway down one aisle, he went to speak to him.
“Hello, I’m looking for Matthew McKittrick. I understand he owns this store,” Winn answered, putting the book back and then turning toward him.
“I’m Matt McKittrick, Father. Is there something I can do for you?” His tone was curious. He knew, according to Lawrence’s letter, that he was to be contacted by a priest named Father Bradford, but there was no guarantee that this was the man.
Winn eyed McKittrick cautiously, wondering when the surprises connected with the crown would end. First, he’d thought Alex was a man, and now, this. . . . When Winn had pictured a bookseller, he’d imagined someone old and bespectacled. He’d been wrong again. Matt McKittrick looked to be about his own age. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and seemed to be quite fit. He looked equal to any challenge they might encounter on the trek to come.
“I’m Father Bradford. Lawrence Anthony gave me your name . . .”
“Of course!” Matt shook his hand in welcome as he smiled. “Lawrence’s letter arrived a few days ago. I was wondering how soon I’d hear from you.”
“Then you know why I’m here.”
“Yes, and I’m ready to leave as soon as you say the word. I’ve been looking for the crown ever since I first heard the legend years ago. Finding it will be the most exciting thing I’ve ever done. I’m honored that Lawrence trusted me and believed in my true motive for wanting it.”
“Lawrence was a good judge of character,” Winn agreed.
“So how soon do we start? All I have to do is lock up the store and I’m ready to go.”
“There is one other person involved. Are you familiar with Professor Parker?”
“I’ve heard his name mentioned in academic circles, but we’ve never met. From what I understand, he found the tomb where the crown had originally been buried, only to discover that it had been looted. It must have been a very frustrating dig for him.”
“I’m sure it was. The professor is the other member of our party, but he’s in London right now and isn’t due back for another week or so. As soon as he returns, I’ll contact you and we can be on our way.”
“I’ll be waiting to hear from you. Would you like to see the information I’ve gathered on the crown? There isn’t a lot available, but I’ve tried to get my hands on everything I could.”
“I’d like that. Actually, I know very little about the treasure.”
“Give me a minute to close the store, and we’ll go upstairs to my rooms.”
As soon as Matt had locked the door, he led Winn up a narrow staircase in the back to the three rooms he called home when he was in Boston. His furnishings were genteel yet shabby. It was obvious that he was a man completely unconcerned with creature comforts or impressing people. The rooms were serviceable, but unremarkable. Only his art collection stood out. He had a variety of statues and paintings dating from the biblical times to the present. All were of excellent taste and value, and Winn recognized more than a few as very important works. Matt waved Winn toward a threadbare sofa.
“Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”
Winn sat down and a moment later, Matt returned with all the information he had on the crown. He sat beside Winn and spread a map out on the table before them.
“This is a map of the Valley of the Kings and the surrounding area near Thebes. From what I’ve learned reading all the reports on excavations there, the crown should have been recovered by the professor and his assistant Alex several years ago, for they located the actual tomb of the prince and princess. Do you know the crown’s history?”
“No. I don’t. Lawrence and I were close friends, but we seldom spoke of his collection.”
Matt proceeded to tell him about the crown and its curse. “It looks like the curse might have been just part of the legend. From what Lawrence wrote in his letter, he’d had the crown for some time and nothing tragic happened to him.”
“Perhaps his sons were his tragedy,” Winn remarked. “Did he mention them in your letter?”
“Yes, he did. I’ve never met them, though. Are they as bad as he implied?”
“They’re worse,” he answered flatly, hoping the pair had crawled away into the night never to be seen or heard from again, but doubting he would be that lucky. He’d seen the greed in their eyes and knew they wouldn’t give up so easily.
“That’s too bad.”
“They believe the crown should be theirs, and I don’t think they’re willing to give it up without a fight. I left London right away for I didn’t want to give them the chance to follow me.”
“Good idea. It’s going to be hard enough finding the crown without battling them, too.”
“I just wish we could get underway. It’s frustrating to sit here and wait.”
“I understand.”
“Tell me, Matt, is the crown really as valuable as Lawrence estimated?” Winn asked.
“Probably more so. Lawrence never thought of things in terms of money. He always thought of them in terms of historical value. The crown is worth a fortune in both.”
“Lawrence was a very special man.”
“Exceptional, and I’m sure he’s set quite a task for us. As fascinated as he was by the riddles of the ancients, I’m certain finding the crown won’t be easy. I’m not sure what the other books say, but mine makes little sense. I’ve tried working out clues from it, but nothing particularly stood out.”
“Once we have all three together, I’m sure we’ll be able to decipher at least the first clue. I’ve spoken with the professor’s daughter, Alexandra, and it was obvious that they are just as enthused about going on this hunt as we are.”
“They?”
“Evidently Alex accompanies the professor on all his excavations.”
“Do you think it’s wise to bring a woman along, Father?” Matt wondered.
“I suggested to her that it might not be comfortable traveling with us, but she argued that she’d been on digs in the Sahara and this could hardly be that difficult. I’m proposing that we wait for her father to return and then discuss it with him.”
“So we aren’t leaving right away?”
“With any luck at all, we might be able to start by the end of next week.”
Matt’s expression grew intense as he realized that he might really find the crown this time. “It’s not soon enough for me, but then again, tomorrow wouldn’t be soon enough as far as I’m concerned.”
“Is this a rendering of the crown?” Winn picked up a watercolor painting from among Matt’s other papers. It was of a golden crown with a large heart-shaped ruby in the center of the front.
“Yes. I painted that myself after I saw a picture of it on a wall in the ruins near Thebes.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“I know. I hope Lawrence isn’t sending us on a wild goose chase. I hope this is the real thing.”
“I can’t imagine that Lawrence would be less than serious where a treasure from his personal collection is concerned.”
“You’re right. Let’s just hope the professor comes back early.”
“Yes, let’s.” Winn thought of Philip and Robert and wondered where they were and what they were doing.
Winn breakfasted in the hotel dining room and then returned to his own room to read the paper and bide his time. Being generally a man of action, it tested his patience sorely to sit alone and cool his heels this way as he awaited the professor’s return. His mood was not the greatest as he stripped off his priestly garb and donned some of his own clothes. While he had to play the clergyman in public, in the privacy of his room, he was free to be himself. He had to admit that it felt good to be just Winn Bradford for a few minutes. Settling in comfortably in a chair at the window, Winn began to go through the Boston newspaper.
He’d been reading for quite a while when a knock sounded at his door. The interruption surprised him. He hadn’t expected to hear from anyone this soon. He was glad for the diversion, though, and quickly opened the door. Winn was startled to find Alex standing before him, looking more lovely than he remembered in a dark green gown that set off her hair color to a fiery splendor. “Miss Parker?”
“Hello, Father Bradford.” Alex almost stumbled over her words as she stared up at him. She’d thought him attractive before, but now, seeing him dressed in regular clothes, she found him utterly magnificent. The fine, white linen shirt he wore fit his broad shoulders perfectly. Partially unbuttoned at the collar, the shirt was open low enough to reveal the strong, tanned column of his throat, and Alex had to force herself to look up and meet his eyes. His expression was reserved, yet interested, and she was glad he was unaware of her dilemma. “I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course . . .” Winn started to ask her into his room, then he stopped, perplexed. As much as he would have liked to have this beautiful young woman behind closed doors, he knew he couldn’t do it, not and maintain his dignity. “Give me a minute, and we’ll go downstairs to the lobby. It would be better for us to talk there.”
“Thank you.” She was grateful that he had time for her.
Winn closed the door and quickly began to change back into Father Bradford. Two months before he would have swept her into his arms and, ultimately, into his bed. Now, he was going to escort her to a very public lobby so they could converse without anyone suspecting their motives. Winn smiled wryly at his own predicament, and he hoped his uncle was happy.
His collar in place, Winn donned his dark coat, then got his key. He emerged from the room, looking very much the priest, the noble rakehell in his heart successfully restrained by the rein of his promise of good intentions.
“Ready?” he asked as he found her waiting for him.
“Yes,” Alex answered, relieved that he looked once more the man of authority, and not the man who set her pulse racing. She knew it was wrong to feel that way about him, and she was glad that he was once more distanced from her in his clerical garb.
Winn locked the door behind him, then escorted her down the hall toward the main staircase. The subtle, yet deliciously feminine scent of her perfume came to him as he walked by her side, stirring his long-denied male instincts. His baser urges prodded him to reach out and touch her. He told himself “NO.” His instincts argued that he should play the gentleman and take her arm or at the very least put a guiding, possessive hand at her waist. He held himself back.
By pure force of will, Winn directed himself to concentrate on the real reason for her visit. She wasn’t there to see Lord Winston Bradford. She was there to see
Father
Bradford, and no doubt her visit was about the crown. Still, he couldn’t help but admire the graceful way she moved. He was glad when they reached the lobby. They sat in two chairs in a quiet corner away from the main desk.
Father
Bradford, and no doubt her visit was about the crown. Still, he couldn’t help but admire the graceful way she moved. He was glad when they reached the lobby. They sat in two chairs in a quiet corner away from the main desk.
“Is something wrong, Miss Parker?”
“Please, call me Alex, Father.”
“All right, Alex. It will be my pleasure. But tell me what brought you here? Is your father back already?”
“No, and that’s why I had to come to see you. I received a letter from him today,” she began, struggling to appear calm. She had always made it a point to speak the truth. Honesty was a way of life for her, and lying to the priest right now was one of the most difficult things she’d ever had to do. The only thing that gave her the will to follow through was knowing that her father’s life hung in the balance. She had to be convincing in her story. She had to make Father Bradford believe she was telling the truth.
“Good news, I hope?”
“I wish it were. The trouble is, he’s been delayed and won’t be back for at least another month.”
Winn frowned. “I see.”
“Father Bradford,” she began again, bolstering herself with the knowledge that at least a part of what she was saying was true. “I know my father wouldn’t want to risk something happening to the crown while we were waiting on him. So, if you have no objection, I think we should go ahead on the trip without my father. I can be ready to leave tomorrow.” Alex looked Winn in the eye as she spoke.
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