Chapter 33
Lana
Morning comes too quickly. Sunlight streaming through the curtains as I blink awake in Jake’s guest room.
Despite my exhaustion, I slept fitfully, my dreams filled with hidden chambers and Hawthorne’s cold smile.
My body aches from yesterday’s mad dash through the woods, but there’s no time to dwell on discomfort.
I glance over and see the bed empty where Caleb should have been.
The house is already bustling when I make my way downstairs. RCMP officers move with purpose, preparing for the day’s operations. Kori hands me a steaming mug of coffee as I enter the kitchen.
“You look like you need this,” she says, studying my face with sisterly concern.
“Thanks,” I mumble, taking a sip. “Have you seen Caleb?”
“He’s outside with Declan and Sergeant Miller. Been up for hours, those three.” She hesitates, then adds, “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
I wave off her concern, though truthfully, I’ve been feeling off for days. I’d blamed it on stress and lack of sleep, but this morning’s wave of nausea when I first stood up has me wondering if it might be something else entirely. Something I’m not ready to think about yet.
“I’m fine,” I assure her. “Just tired.”
After a quick breakfast, I find myself restless, unable to focus as everyone prepares for their assigned duties. But a thought that’s been nagging at me since I woke up won’t leave me alone.
“I need to run into town,” I announce to Kori as she’s clearing dishes. “Just for an hour or so.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Town? Now? With everything that’s happening?”
“I just need a few things,” I say vaguely. “Personal items.”
She looks skeptical but nods. “Take one of Declan’s men with you.”
“It’s a ten-minute drive, and Hawthorne’s probably busy trying to shred evidence before the RCMP shows up. I’ll be fine.” I force confidence into my voice. “I’ll be back before anyone even notices I’m gone.”
“At least tell Caleb where you’re going,” she insists.
I have no intention of telling Caleb anything. Not until I know for sure. I nod, “I’ll do that.”
Feeling guilty, I grab my purse and slip out the side door, but I need to do this alone. Some things are just too personal to share until I’m ready.
The drive into Pinecrest is uneventful, the town seemingly unaware of the storm about to break over it. I park near the MacPherson Pharmacy on Main Street, my heart pounding unreasonably fast as I walk inside. The old pharmacist, Mr. MacPherson, greets me with a smile that I return awkwardly.
I browse the shelves with forced casualness before finally gathering my courage and selecting what I came for—a pregnancy test. I add a few random items to my basket to make it less obvious, then approach the counter.
Mrs. MacPherson rings me up with a side eye but doesn’t say anything, though I imagine everyone in town will know by lunchtime that the pink-haired outsider bought a pregnancy test. Small towns and their gossip networks work faster than Twitter.
With my purchase secured in a discreet paper bag, I step back onto the sidewalk, planning to head straight back to Jake’s. That’s when I notice the black SUV parked across the street, its engine running.
Something about it raises the hairs on the back of my neck. I quicken my pace, heading for my car, but before I can reach it, I hear footsteps behind me.
“Ms. Mills.”
I freeze at the sound of Hawthorne’s voice, then slowly turn to face him. He stands a few feet away, impeccably dressed as always, but there’s something different about him today. The polished veneer of the politician has cracked, revealing something harder and more dangerous beneath.
“Mayor Hawthorne,” I acknowledge, fighting to keep my voice steady. “I can’t stop to chat. I’m expected back at Jake’s.”
“I’m afraid I must insist,” he says, stepping closer. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “We have urgent matters to discuss.”
I back away, clutching my bag. “Any discussions should happen through the RCMP now.”
His smile vanishes. “The RCMP doesn’t understand the delicacy of our situation. But you do, don’t you? You’ve been at the center of this from the beginning.”
I glance around, hoping to catch someone’s eye, but the street is oddly empty for mid-morning. “I need to go.”
I turn to leave, but his hand clamps around my upper arm with surprising strength. “I don’t think so.”
“Let go of me,” I demand, trying to pull away.
“Get in the car, Ms. Mills.” His voice has changed, all pretense of civility gone. “Now.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I say, struggling against his grip.
His other hand emerges from his pocket holding something that makes my blood run cold—a small pistol, partially concealed but unmistakable. “I won’t ask again.”
Fear floods through me as I realize how badly I’ve miscalculated. I should have listened to Kori. I should have brought someone with me. I should have told Caleb where I was going.
“Fine,” I say, trying to buy time. “But people know where I am. They’ll come looking.”
“I’m counting on it,” he replies with chilling certainty.
He marches me to the SUV, keeping the gun hidden against my side where no casual observer would notice. The back door opens, and rough hands pull me inside. The last thing I see before a hood is yanked over my head is Hawthorne’s satisfied smile as he slides into the passenger seat.
“Drive,” he commands, and the vehicle lurches forward.
I try to keep track of our route—left turn out of town, then right onto what feels like a gravel road. The hood makes it impossible to see, but I focus on counting seconds, estimating distances. After what seems like twenty minutes, we stop.
Hands pull me from the vehicle. I stumble on uneven ground as they guide me forward. The sound of a door opening, then the echo of footsteps, tells me we’re inside a building. When they finally remove the hood, I blink in the dim light of what appears to be an old storage facility.
“Make yourself comfortable, Ms. Mills,” Hawthorne says, gesturing to a chair in the center of the room. “You’ll be our guest until this unfortunate situation is resolved.”
“This is kidnapping,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “You’re making things worse for yourself.”
“Worse?” He laughs, a sound with no humor in it. “My family built this town. We’ve owned it for generations. And now, because of you and your friends, everything we’ve built is threatened by the delusions of a man who’s been dead for a century.”
“They aren’t delusions if they’re true,” I counter, refusing to sit in the chair he’s indicated. “Thomas Wolf documented everything.”
“Documents that should have rotted away decades ago!” he snaps, his composure cracking. “My grandfather should have found them. My father should have destroyed them. But now they’ve fallen into the hands of federal authorities because you couldn’t leave well enough alone.”
I notice now that we’re not alone. Two men stand near the door—local police officers still loyal to Hawthorne, judging by their uniforms. They look uncomfortable but determined.
“So what’s your plan?” I ask, trying to keep him talking while I look for any possible escape route. “Hold me hostage until what? The RCMP drops its investigation? That’s not going to happen.”
“It will when they realize the consequences of continuing,” he says coldly. “Your boyfriend and his friends have until noon to deliver all the original documents and the gold to this location. If they comply, you go free. If not...” He leaves the threat hanging.
My mind races. Caleb must have discovered I’m missing by now. But does he know who took me? Where I am?
“They won’t trade historical evidence of murder for one person,” I say, hoping to shake his confidence.
“Won’t they?” Hawthorne smirks. “Brennen seems particularly attached to you. I think he’ll make the trade.”
A chill runs through me as I realize he’s been watching us more closely than we knew. “How will they even know what you want? Or where to find me?”
“They already know,” he replies, checking his watch. “I called them.”