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Only secrets.
The silver key sits in a hidden compartment of the box in which he keeps his watches and cufflinks. A memory of Ian dressed in his pinstripe suit and white shirt at Oliver’s party flashes through my mind. The picture is so clear, it’s as if he’s standing in front of me, his handsome face smiling down at me with that odd mixture of searing heat and piercing tenderness. With his hair tied back, he’s a vision of hot male and dangerous rogue. Even dressed in an evening suit, he wears weapons in the form of stylish cufflinks. The picture cuts into my heart. I can’t bear the thought that anything should happen to him. I love him too much.
My smile is tremulous, a precious memory of a past moment infected with fear for his future, as I trace a finger over the black onyx stone set in the platinum square. Ian showed them to me after the party and demonstrated how they work. Lifting the cufflink from the box, I caress the edges. When I press down gently on the stone, a sharp spike releases. I hold it up to the light. It’s thick like a wool needle and a quarter of the length of one. A stab to a jugular vein will be fatal. The beautiful piece of jewelry is a personification of the man I love—gorgeous and deadly.
Another image flashes through my mind, but this time, it’s not Ian’s dress shirt cuff adorned with a dangerous, beautiful weapon. It’s the photo of the bank robbers and the cuff of the killer aiming a shotgun.
The killer wore cufflinks.
My heart is already unstable from the stress, but my pulse spikes further. Dropping everything, I grab my bag where I threw it on the bench and shake the contents out on the floor until I find the folded printout. I drag in laboring breaths as I iron it out once more and study the picture. The man in the front with the shotgun has the weapon aimed in front of him. With his arms lifted, his overall sleeve has pulled back, revealing the cuff of his shirt and the cufflink.
My heart slams to a standstill. My body turns cold. I’ve seen those silver cufflinks with the crossed pistols logo and SIU initials. I see it now, in my mind’s eye, as I face the man in an office smelling of stale apples with a sad-looking potted plant.
Detective Wolfe.
My brain registers the fact even as I battle to believe it. I had no doubt Wolfe was determined to nail Ian, but I never could’ve guessed how far he was willing to go. An acute pain tightens my ribcage.
Giving myself a mental shake, I jump back into action. My hands tremble as I pack everything on the floor back into my bag. I do what I came here to do, unlock the safe and get my gun. I fit my ankle holster and pistol. When I’m done, I take my pills. It’s too early, but my heart is battling to provide my body’s demands as emotions and knowledge convert into physical stress. In case Ian comes back to the room first, I scribble a note on a piece of paper, telling him I’m going to town for supplies, and leave it on his pillow.
By the time I’m driving to the main building, the pills kick in and my heartbeat calms a fraction. It becomes easier to breathe, to think.
At the lodge, I go straight to the office and boot up the laptop. It’s protected with a password. I turn over the desk pad and look for sticky notes, but there’s nothing.
Frantic, I go outside. Leon and Ruben are nowhere to be seen. The only person around is Garai, who is fixing a bird feeder to a tree out front.
“I need to use the computer,” I say while I’m still a distance away.
He looks up in surprise. “Cas.”
“Do you know the password?”
He frowns. “Let me call Ian.”
“No,” I say quickly. “I didn’t call him because he can’t know.”
He drops his arms, letting the feeder dangle on one string from the branch. Caution sharpens his features.
“Ian trusts me,” I say. “I need you to trust me too. Please.”
“What’s going on, Cas?”
“You can check what I’m doing. I just want to look up something.” I make an effort to sound calmer. “I’m not going to bother Ian while he’s on his way to the airport.”
He gives me a pained look. “You know I can’t deny you after what you did for Banga. Just don’t put me in a difficult position with Ian.”
“I won’t.” I force a smile. “I promise.”
“Okay.” He nods, not looking certain, but walks toward me.
I utter a sigh of relief. Leading the way back to the office, I wait for him to type in the password. When the computer comes to life, he steps aside to give me access, but he doesn’t leave.
