Dead Girl Running (Cape Charade #1)(78)

“By the maintenance garage.”

Kellen felt the blood drain from her face, felt the clammy chill cover her skin. “So maybe one of my people.”

“Not proof. But likely.”

Temo? Mitch? Adrian?… Birdie? Tears pricked at her eyes. She didn’t want to know one of her friends, her team, had joined the dark side. She wanted to believe in them. Now she doubted all of them.

Nils watched her, analyzed her. “You face every challenge with your chin up until you lose faith with the people you’ve cautiously taken into your inner circle. It’s not a crime to get it wrong in a friendship. The crime is to guard yourself so closely you have no one.”

Her tears dried. She stared incredulously at him.

He looked sheepish. “Sorry. It’s my mom. She’s always saying stuff like that and sometimes I couldn’t help listening.”

“Your mom is pretty smart.” She brushed at her wet eyes and got back to business. “Your phone is out there somewhere. Let’s hope the Librarian doesn’t find it.” She stood and walked over to Nils. “Let me see your elbow.”

He pushed off the ice bag, rolled up his sleeve and showed her the swelling.

She didn’t like the way the bone was sitting or the color of his skin. “It’s broken.” She pressed the ice bag back on it.

He agreed. “Cracked, anyway.”

Kellen looked around, saw Nils’s plaid Burberry scarf hanging beside his coat and brought it over. “Too bad. I have news I thought you’d like to investigate.”

“So you didn’t come to throw me out of the resort for my own safety?”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t give a shit about your safety.” A patent lie, but he grinned as if he was flattered. “I found Priscilla’s tomb art.”

He sat up fast. He groaned and grabbed his elbow. “Where?”

“Everyone kept saying Priscilla wasn’t that smart, but this was genius. She hid them in a storeroom filled with hotel room decorations.” Kellen folded the scarf into a triangle, made a sling and slid it around Nils’s arm.

Nils let her do what she could to make him comfortable. “And you found them?”

“Not me. Carson Lennex. He’s had them on display. I took them into safekeeping, but the cursed tablet is still unsecured.” She tied the sling around Nils’s neck and stepped back. “The problem is—Mitch knows, too.”

“Maintenance. That’s not good.” Nils came slowly to his feet, tested the sling and nodded in satisfaction. He slid his knife into a hidden wrist holster, picked up his compact pistol, weighed it, made a decision, then put it down. “I’m betting on your other friend, Temo. He’s got one of the cottages farthest from the resort, and he’s hiding something. His friend’s in on it, too. What’s his name?”

“Adrian. In terms of character, he’s a little doubtful. But not Temo. He saved my life many times. I saved his. I can’t believe—”

“Depends on what his current motivation is. He might be one of the rare people in this world who doesn’t want money just to have more money. But does he need money? Is he desperate for money? That’s what you’ve got to ask yourself.”

“Is the Librarian desperate enough at the loss of this latest shipment to start making mistakes?”

“I think so. We just have to be in the right place at the right time, and right now, that’s in the penthouse.” Nils checked his Beretta M9 to make sure it was functioning. “I’ll go to Carson Lennex and get him to tell me the location of that last piece of art. You take Big Foot with you to check out Temo.”

“Big Foot? Max?”

“If that’s his name.”

“He’s trying for the Incredible Hulk, and he’s busy searching the resort for you. Not surprisingly, he hasn’t found you.” She texted Max again, slipped her phone into her pocket. “Nils, be careful. We’ve narrowed the number of suspects, but the suspects have narrowed the opposition to us. With you taking last night’s shipment, they have to be somehow injured, they’re going to be livid and they don’t care who they kill. They don’t care if they kill every person in the resort. In fact, that would enhance the Librarian’s fearsome reputation.” What an ugly realization that was. “My guess is all they want to do is get the artifacts and escape to set up their base somewhere else. Watch your back.”

“You, too.” He hooked his good arm around her neck and pulled her close. “One kiss for a man going into battle?”

“How about if I don’t punch you in the elbow?”

“Almost as good.” He kissed her nevertheless, a brief press on the lips, and they both headed out into the blistering cold, dark and miserable afternoon.





36

Kellen released the safety on her pistol and cautiously approached the cottage Temo shared with Adrian. She climbed the stairs, put her head to the door…

Inside, she heard a burst of sound: men shouting, a girl crying.

She used her pass card and slammed into the room to find four pairs of eyes fixed on her: Adrian; a Hispanic guy with dyed blond hair who was writhing on the floor, holding his bleeding thigh; Temo himself, hard-eyed and furious, pointing his pistol at the door…and a preteen Hispanic girl who had to be Temo’s sister.