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Authors: Dana Mentink

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“I hired someone to gather information.” His tone hardened. “Until that someone decided to go after my Guarneri herself.”

Tate sucked in a breath. “My sister?”

Bittman glared. “Yes. It seems rotten apples are common on your family tree.”

“Why would she want your violin? What did you do to her?”

“Nothing at all. I suspect the eighteen million dollars was motive enough.”

Stephanie felt a sliver of fear for Maria. “Has she found it?”

“I am not certain. She took my research, a small matter as I have it electronically archived, of course. I’ll get it back, and she will pay.” The words had barely left Bittman’s lips when Tate was on him, hands wrapped around his throat.

“You’re not going to touch my sister,” Tate barked.

Stephanie pulled Tate away, using all her strength to pry at his arms, which felt like steel bands under her fingers. “Let him go. You’re not helping Maria.” She had to keep Bittman talking long enough to find out how to rescue her father and now, it seemed, Maria, before Bittman got to her.

Bittman stood, adjusting his clothing. “I
want you to locate my violin and the person in possession of it before Maria does. She might scare him off, and that would make me very angry, which, I am told, is a frightening prospect.”

Tate’s breath came in short bursts, and Stephanie worried for a moment that he would try to throttle Bittman again. She spoke quickly. “You could hire an investigator, a professional.”

“But I want
you, Stephanie. You have the Treasure Seekers’ resources behind you and now, since your father’s life hangs in the balance, you have the ultimate motivation to complete the mission for me.”

Tate moved closer, and she felt his hand come to rest on the small of her back. It was the only thing that kept her mind from spinning completely out of control. For a moment, she thought Bittman was going
to touch her, and she wondered how she would stand it. Tate tensed next to her, hand curled into a fist.

Bittman leaned close. “It is time for Treasure Seekers to go after the ultimate prize. Find it, and we will have everything we desire.”

We?
She pulled back slightly, her back pushed into Tate’s chest. His fingers pressed her waist.

I’m here. He’s not going to hurt you,
the pressure
seemed to say.

“And if I can’t find the violin?” she whispered.

Bittman laughed softly before he whispered, “‘I looked, and behold a pale horse...’” He gave her a smile that from anyone else would have been warm and filled with humor, but from him, held another meaning entirely. Icy trickles snaked up her spine in spite of Tate’s reassuring touch and the fact that he moved her away from
Bittman, inserting his own body between them.

Without a backward glance, Bittman was gone.

The room felt as if it was filled with tainted air, poisoned with a rank chemical that remained there even after Bittman’s departure. She stumbled out of the room and back into the cheerful kitchen, which now brought no comfort.

Tate was speaking, but he had to repeat the question twice before
it penetrated her haze of fear. “What’s the business about the horse, Steph?”

She forced out the words. “We went riding a few times, back before I realized... He owns a stable full of the most beautiful horses you could imagine. So many to choose from, but he only rode one, a big stallion, completely white. The horse wasn’t a good trail rider, too wild and headstrong. I asked him why he always
chose that particular horse.” She raised her eyes to Tate’s. “He said he liked the imagery.”

“Imagery?”

She swallowed hard. “It’s from Revelation. ‘I looked and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him...was Death.’”

FOUR

S
tephanie sat next to Luca on the flight to southern California. A few hours before, Victor’s fiancée, Brooke, had arrived from San Diego to stay with Victor, who was showing signs of improvement. Stephanie offered up another prayer of thanks.

Luca did not want to leave their brother any more than she did, which added to the concern written on his face. They’d both thrown
some necessities in a bag and she’d arranged for a neighbor to feed Tootsie before they were off to the airport. Luca was not one to rush anything, which she suspected added to his stress.

At least Tate was not with them to add fuel to Luca’s ire. He’d stayed with her at her house, combing through the research that Bittman emailed just after he’d left, until Luca arrived sometime in the wee
hours.

“Tate’s not with Treasure Seekers. It’s better that he stays out of our way,” Luca growled.

“He’s not going to. He thinks Bittman’s going to hurt Maria, or she’s going to do something dumb trying to get her hands on that violin. Either way he’s going to stick with it until he knows for sure. He’s meeting us at the airport in Bakersfield. From there we go to Devlin’s shop. The
one who contacted Bittman about the Guarneri.”

Luca shook his head. “Tate will be a problem.”

She allowed herself a smile, in spite of her weariness. “Dollars to donuts that’s exactly what he’s saying about you.”

Luca did not return the smile. “Steph, he’s bad news. Guy’s a pill popper and a hothead.”

Stephanie looked away for a moment. “I think he’s clean now.”

“You think?”
Luca took her hand. “He almost got you killed. Plus, if he hadn’t shut you out, treated you like dirt, you never would have taken such a tailspin and started working full time for Bittman.”

She pulled away her hand. “Let’s be clear. I joined Bittman of my own free will, tailspin or not. What’s happening to Dad now, to Victor—” She blinked back a sudden onslaught of tears. “It’s my fault,
not Tate’s.”

He took her hand again, his expression softer. “No blame games here. I’m sorry. I get overprotective.”

“You don’t say.”

He squeezed her fingers. “Just don’t let Tate back into your life.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”
Once was more than enough.

He relaxed. “Run me through it again, sis. Bittman’s father owned a music store and he inherited the Guarneri from a deceased
uncle some twenty years ago. The violin has some special name, doesn’t it?”

“The Quinto Guarneri.” She nodded, glad to be in problem-solving mode. “It was given that name by the virtuoso violinist who once played it. There was a fire and the Quinto was presumed destroyed, though Bittman claimed someone set the fire. He further claims a second person was in the shop, a homeless man Hans Bittman
allowed to stay there. Bittman believes while he was trying to get his father, Hans, out, the homeless man made off with the Guarneri before the store burned to the ground, but the cops could not substantiate any of it. Bittman’s older brother, Peter, was killed in the fire. He was mentally disabled; Bittman believes he hid under the bed until the smoke was too much for him. Hans Bittman went
out of business and died shortly thereafter of a stroke.”

Luca’s eyes narrowed. “So Bittman thinks this violin that surfaced is the one stolen from his father and the guy who has it...”

She nodded. “Is the one who took it from the shop. He’s also the guy who saw the arsonist and...” She trailed off.

“And what?”

“And it’s the only time I ever saw him show emotion, the few moments
when he spoke of his father or brother. Whatever happened that night changed him forever.” She chewed a fingernail. “Bittman went to a lot of trouble to involve us.”

Luca’s eyes roved her face. “I think he’s got ulterior motives. He wants you, Steph, that’s clear. He’s never gotten over the fact that you quit working for him.”

Her cheeks flamed. “He had to know I would, after I found
out that he used me to break into that security system.” He’d directed her to steal a car, a Bugatti Veyron, supposedly to test out the antitheft system he’d installed. She’d stolen it all right, only it wasn’t Bittman’s car; it belonged to a man named Brown. The Gage family immediately rallied around Stephanie and appealed to Brown not to press charges. Brown was not swayed until suddenly, he dropped
the charges with no explanation and sold the car to Bittman a week later. Stephanie had the suspicion Bittman had applied some excruciating pressure of his own. She also believed Bittman thought that by involving her in illegal dealings, he could blackmail her into staying with him. Blackmail was one of his specialties.

“You were more to him than an employee.”

“Well, it wasn’t mutual,”
she snapped. It was fun at first, consulting for a man with a genius intellect, and then after Tate broke her heart, she desperately needed a distraction. Treasure Seekers was in its infancy with not enough projects to keep her busy, so she’d accepted Bittman’s job offer to be his security consultant and design software protection systems. In all her time with Bittman, never did she feel any stirrings
of love for the man. Bittman did not seem capable of love even if she had been interested, any more than a mountain cares for the clouds that surround it.

The flow of memories was interrupted by Luca’s next question.

“Can you get a look at the police report?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. The local police department there was flooded about fifteen years back, so a lot of the records
were destroyed.”

His eyebrow arched. “But you’re still working on it anyway, aren’t you?”

“What makes you think so?”

He laughed. “It’s like waving a steak in front of a hungry Doberman. You’ve got to know. It’s what makes you a great Treasure Seeker.”

She wanted to return the chuckle, but darker thoughts prevented her from doing so.
If I don’t find this treasure, we might never
see Dad again.

The plane descended through an oppressive gray sky.

* * *

She wasn’t surprised to find Tate waiting at the airport, sporting a neat T-shirt, a softly worn pair of Levi’s and a baseball cap. He nodded at her and ignored Luca as they headed to the rental car counter.

“How’s your brother?” Tate murmured into her ear, sending tingles dancing along her ribs.

“Stable for now. Did you fly?”

He shook his head. “Drove my friend’s truck.”

She started. “You didn’t leave my place until almost one. You must have been driving all night.”

He shrugged. “Don’t sleep much anyway. Called my friend Gilly. He’s gone to Maria’s place. Checking her computer.”

“Hacking into it?” Luca said.

Tate shot him a glance. “You worried about Maria’s feelings?
You didn’t worry about those before.”

Luca jerked to a stop and faced Tate. “I didn’t touch your sister. Get that into your fat head.”

“You saying she’s a liar?” Both men topped six feet, and now they were nose to nose, anger simmering between them.

“Stop it,” she hissed. “We have to work together.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Tate said.

Luca snorted. “Don’t worry,
none of us like it, so you’re in good company.”

Stephanie was relieved when Tate sat down to wait while Luca rented a car. She caught sight of a vending machine at the end of a quiet corner of the terminal. Stomach growling, she realized she could not recall the last time she’d eaten. Not wanting to take time to order from the café, she headed for the lone vending machine.

Away from
the terminal noise, she shouldered her laptop strap and fished in her purse for loose bills, all the while wondering how she would keep Luca and Tate from killing each other long enough to find Maria or the violin. Her father would have told them both in that genteel way, “Cool heads, gentlemen.” Thinking about him brought a lump to her throat. Had he been injured in the crash? Or worse? She only
had Bittman’s word that her father was unhurt. There had been bandages in the room where he had been held.

God, please,
she whispered.
Please keep him safe until I find him.

She felt off balance, useless, unable to locate her father and not there for her ailing brother. On impulse, she pulled out her phone and dialed, surprised when Brooke answered.

For a moment she could hardly
imagine what to say to this sweet woman who loved her brother so deeply. “It’s Steph. I’m so sorry, Brooke.”

“It’s not your fault. Luca told me a little about what’s going on, and you have to know this didn’t happen because of you.”

The words were kind, but they did not change the truth. “How is he?”

Brooke sighed. “Still unconscious, but the doctors are easing off the sedatives
so if all goes well he should be coming around.”

If all goes well...

“I’m glad you’re there with him.”

Brooke must have heard the unspoken feeling in her voice. “We both know you would be here, too, if you could. Just do what you have to do and stay safe. I’ll stay right here with Victor, I promise.”

Stephanie said goodbye and disconnected. What would happen when Victor did
wake up? Would he remember the accident? Even more frightening, what if he was not himself anymore? What if he was damaged by the violence of the crash? The serious, steadfast brother whom she had relied on her entire life.

It was too much to worry about. Stepping around a man reading a newspaper, hat brim pulled down over his eyes, she continued to the machine.

Finally grasping some
bills from inside her purse, she fed them into the slot. As her finger moved toward the button, the hair on the back of her neck stirred. Her subconscious knew someone was there before her ears detected the soft noise directly behind her. Before she could spin around, she was sandwiched against the machine by a man’s heavy bulk, the breath forced out of her along with a cry. As she rallied to push
him off, he jerked the laptop from her shoulder and ran down the darkened corridor.

She ran after him. He was strong and had the element of surprise, but she was fast and as determined as a lioness.

In a minute she’d caught up with him, his arms pumping as he headed toward the main terminal where she would lose him for sure. There was only one choice. With a surge of adrenaline, she
leaped.

* * *

Tate was out of his chair as soon as he heard Stephanie’s cry of surprise. He sprinted to the dim hallway in time to see a figure emerging with Stephanie’s laptop under his arm. A moment later, Stephanie hurtled forward, catching the man by the ankles. They both fell, the man’s hat flying through the air, along with the laptop. Tate ran to grab the man, but the assailant
shook Stephanie loose with a vicious kick and leaped to his feet, running out the nearest exit door, grabbing his hat on the way.

Tate was paralyzed for a moment, wondering whether to pursue the laptop snatcher or help Stephanie. He decided on the latter. She was in a sitting position, blood oozing from the corner of her mouth, hair disheveled and cheeks pink with exertion.

He knelt
next to her and a startled Luca joined them, along with an airport security officer who grilled them immediately.

“He tried to take my laptop,” Stephanie puffed.

The security man answered a call from his radio. “No sign of the snatcher, but we’ll keep looking.” He gave her a quizzical stare. “I’ve been working here since the new terminal opened six years ago, and this has never happened
before. Are you sure you don’t know who that was?”

Stephanie shrugged. “He was wearing a hat.”

“Uh-huh. Police will be here in a moment for your statement.”

Tate and Luca helped her to a chair, and her brother gave her a tissue to apply to her lip. Another airport employee offered her medical attention, which she declined except for an ice pack.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Luca said.

She nodded. “Fine, just a bloody lip.”

Tate shook his head. “You didn’t think it would be nuts to try and tackle the guy?”

Her eyes opened wide in exasperation. “He tried to
steal
my
computer.

Tate’s stomach tightened as he looked at her, brown eyes glinting, outrage painted across her delicate features. Small woman, with courage as big as any man he’d ever met.
He didn’t love her anymore; there was too much anger and hurt between them to ever allow those feelings to take hold again. Still, he wondered why his heart beat unsteadily as he drank her in.

Luca sighed. “It won’t do any good to tell her it was a dumb thing to do.”

“Wasn’t going to try.”

Luca and Tate exchanged a look, probably their first that wasn’t a hostile stare down.

“I’ll go finish with the rental car then.” Luca looked at Stephanie. “Can you just sit there until I get back?”

“I’ll try,” Stephanie said.

Tate reached over and picked a sliver of paper from her hair, smoothing the dark silky strands into place. Soft and fine, just like he remembered.

She pulled back and finger combed her hair into some semblance of order. “I’m sure I look ridiculous
after rolling around the airport floor.”

“Nope. Same as always. Raindrops on roses.” As the words left his mouth, his face flushed hot. Had he really said that? His mother always maintained that the most beautiful thing she could think of was raindrops on roses, and when he and Stephanie were together, it was his favorite way to tell her in his clumsy fashion how gorgeous she was. Gorgeous,
perfect, different...and not his anymore. They were strangers, now and forever. He felt her eyes searching his face as he turned away, awkward as a teen boy.

He moved aside, pretending to look over the crowd, but inside blood pounded an erratic rhythm in his veins.
Go, do something, anything.
He pulled out his phone to check for messages he knew weren’t there, then he strolled to the drinking
fountain and sucked down some water. When he looked back again, he was relieved to see Stephanie deep in conversation with Luca. The slip hadn’t meant anything to her. Nothing at all.

The cops arrived to take her statement. She didn’t give them much. They were traveling on business; the would-be thief was a stranger. She provided a number where they could call with any follow-up questions,
and that was that.

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