Diamond Legacy (31 page)

He had to be bluffing. Hank was taller and heavier than the scrawny Neil, but she didn’t dare look away from Bessault to see.

“And you aren’t much of a gentleman.” She kept her back to the wall, but inched a little farther toward the crossroads of the stable.

Thuds that sounded like fists against flesh worried her, and she could only hope Hank prevailed. Bessault wouldn’t let up, however, and laughed with relish. “I’m afraid your friend is bleeding,” he said. “If you surrender now, I’ll go easy on him.”

“You’re lying.”
Please God, let him be lying.

A jarring crash of stable tools hitting the concrete floor caused her to flinch, and in that split second, Bessault pounced. She tried to swing the pitchfork but he moved too quickly. He grabbed the tines and yanked the weapon from her hands.

She turned to run, but steely fingers closed around her arm before she took two steps. Bessault spun her back to face him, and she turned into a snarling fury, kicking, hitting, and biting any skin within reach. He only laughed at her ineffectual blows, and the chilling sound penetrated her haze of anger.

He shoved her against the wall, his face mere inches from her own. “What a wild temptress you are.”

Lust glittered in the void of his eyes.

“Stinking scum bag.” She glared her disgust, but it only served to amuse him.

“Look.” He nodded to one side. “Your friend has lost his fight as well.”

This time she did as he asked and saw the source of the crash. Hank sat on the ground surrounded by rakes, shovels, and other implements, holding his head as though dazed.

Hope fizzled inside her. She’d lost this round.

Roz chose that moment to fall into hysteria. She bellowed an ear-piercing shriek, bounding around the aisle and banging out her dismay on anything available. The noise reverberated down the stable aisle.

Bessault’s grip on Miranda’s arm tightened painfully. “Shut that damn monkey up!”

Roz started spinning in a circle, belting out her fear at the top of her lungs, and Neil took several threatening steps toward her.

“Wait!” Miranda began to struggle against her captor’s hold. “Release me!” she demanded. “I can calm her down.”

“Do it!” He shoved her toward Roz.

Shaking inside, Miranda lifted the frightened monkey and softly crooned soothing words as she stroked her back. Roz wrapped her arms around Miranda’s neck and whimpered.

“It’s all right, girl,” Miranda whispered. She rocked her back and forth. “Calm down now. That’s it.”

She glanced over at Bessault and saw him yanking Hank to his feet, only to slam him against the wall. She used the distraction to walk Roz to the nearest vacant stall and peer inside. It had an exit to the paddock and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Miranda set Roz down at the doorway and glanced back. Neil stood near, dividing his attention between her and Bessault. She grabbed Roz’s chin and forced her to look at her. “I need your help, honey. “
Find Matt
, she signed.
Help me
. Then she spelled out the letters N-E-I-L. She spelled it twice, desperately hoping Roz would remember.

“What are you doing?” Neil’s voice sounded behind her.

She pushed Roz deeper into the stall and closed the door, despite the monkey’s protests. “I’m sending her out of here like he requested,” she snapped back.

“Time to go.” Neil grabbed her arm and began dragging her away from the stall.

She and Hank were pushed and shoved toward one of the side doors. An SUV waited outside and, in the precious few seconds between the door and the darkened vehicle, Miranda searched the grounds for any sign of help.

There was none.

“You’re a hard man to find,” Jason said as he joined Matt in a hallway.

“It’s been a busy morning.” Matt pointed to the pile of trash bags in the rolling cart he pushed.

“I need to talk to you.”

Jason sounded worried, but not alarmed. Still, dialogue that started like that never ended well. “I’m headed for the dumpster. Walk with me.”

“It’s about Graham,” Jason said as he fell into step beside him. “He’s acting weird, and I doubt Miranda will let you know.”

Bloody hell. The day was on a downhill spiral. First, a crack-of-dawn meeting with Nik, now this. “Let’s get outside,” he said through gritted teeth.

Jason moved ahead of him and held the door while Matt shoved the cart through and into the bright sunlight. They didn’t say another word until they reached the dumpster.

“Okay, out with it,” Matt said.

“Graham came into the clinic, something he rarely does, and spoke to the attending vets. Now that’s unusual but not alarming.” Jason began helping Matt toss the bags of trash into the bin. “But then he stopped to talk to Miranda and asked her questions, like had she seen much of Gaborone since she’d been here.”

Graham nosing around was a bad sign, but otherwise the news didn’t seem threatening. “How did he sound? Was he just making polite talk?”

“Yes, but it’s the way he looked at her, as though seeing her differently. It was weird.” Jason tossed the last bag in. “And then he asked her if she always wore her hair in that ponytail, which she does. She really should let it down more. The girl’s got hair that makes a man dream naughty things.”

Matt stopped listening. His mind instantly went back to that night at Glory Hill and the ponytail she wore. Did this mean they captured an image on camera, and Graham was beginning to put pieces together? If so, Miranda could be in imminent danger.

His heart rate spiked. Short of kidnapping and holding her prisoner, how could he keep her safe?

“What else did Graham say?”

Jason shook his head just as Letta rounded the building carrying a bag of trash for the bin.

“What a pleasant surprise,” she said.

Letta’s smile was cheery, and Matt relieved her of the trash bag and tossed it in. He smiled for her benefit, but his thoughts were flying, sorting through possible options and discarding every one. They either exposed Miranda to deeper danger, which was definitely out, or excluded her from the investigation, which had a snowball’s chance in the Sahara of success.

“Am I interrupting something?” Letta had picked up on the tension.

Jason didn’t say a word, giving Matt the lead.

“No, no,” Matt denied. “Just working too hard. So, if you two are out here, where’s Miranda?”

“She headed for the Oasis Pool,” Jason answered. “I’m supposed to join her in—”

A wild screech interrupted, and Matt met Jason and Letta’s eyes in surprise. As one, they unanimously stepped around the dumpster to check the commotion.

Roz came barreling across the yard, yelling and raising her arms in an outward show of distress.

“Something’s wrong,” Letta said with alarm. “She doesn’t act like this.”

Jason immediately dropped to his knees and opened his arms for the monkey. “Roz, sweetie, come here.”

Roz ran straight into his arms, shrieking and chattering. She pushed her face against the fabric of his shirt, beating against his chest with her arms.

“It’s all right,” he crooned. “What’s the matter?”

Letta joined Jason on the ground. She stroked Roz’s back, making soothing noises, but the monkey wouldn’t be consoled. Instead, she began tugging on Jason’s shirt, trying to pull him up. When it didn’t work, she began to frantically make hand gestures.

“She’s trying to sign!” Letta exclaimed.

Matt joined them on the ground, suddenly concerned this was more than general monkey discontent. “What’s she saying?” he asked.

“I think she’s spelling.” Letta watched Roz closely. “N–I–L.” She looked up at them with a frown of confusion. “Mean anything to you?”

Matt shook his head and looked at Jason. He just shrugged.

Failing to get through, Roz screeched in frustration and grabbed Jason by the shirt, tugging fiercely. He stood up then, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him along.

“I think she wants us to follow,” Jason spoke over his shoulder.

Roz tugged and scolded all the way to the stable. When Matt opened the door, Roz shot inside, racing ahead of them. Down the long corridor she flew and turned left at the crossroads.

Matt was the first to round the corner. Roz stood in the center of the aisle, spinning in circles and crying out. Jason and Letta arrived right behind him, and Letta went straight to the monkey, trying to soothe her.

“There’s been a scuffle here.” Jason lifted a shovel from a scattered pile of implements and hung it back on the wall.

A nervous sensation burned in the pit of Matt’s stomach as Roz’s agitation transferred to him. He scanned the stable, searching for clues. Old Spartan stuck his head out of a stall, but other than the horse, the rest of the barn appeared empty. It seemed everyone had to be at the impromptu staff meeting, which in hindsight now appeared suspect.

“Roz keeps signing the word help,” Letta called out. “What can this mean?”

“Ah, Matt?” Jason was holding an open wallet. “It belongs to Hank Meadows.”

Roz screeched again and began spastic hand gestures.

“N–E–L,” Letta said. “I think she’s confused.” Suddenly, Letta gasped. Her eyes widened, and she stood straight, her hand moving to cover her mouth.

“I don’t like the looks of that,” Jason said with a frown. “What’s the matter?”

“Miranda,” Letta whispered. “Oh, what have I done?”

That got Matt’s attention quicker than anything she could have said. He was in front of her in less than two seconds. “Explain.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “I saw her on her way to the Oasis Pool. I asked her to deliver some new reins to the stable on her way.”

Unease sank into stark, cold fear. Matt’s breathing went shallow and sweat broke out on his skin. He shut his eyes and slammed a door against old fear, refusing to let panic consume him.

This wasn’t Zimbabwe and he wasn’t fourteen. This time he could fight back.

“If something has happened to her…” With a catch in her voice, Letta dropped back down with Roz.
“Again, slower,”
she signed.

Matt and Jason locked eyes over her head. The worry he saw in Jason’s mirrored his own.

“N–E–I,” Letta spelled out.

The answer hit Matt so hard he almost fell over. Neil Vernel. Half Jacks.

The bastard had taken Miranda.

Rage replaced fear. He pivoted on his heel and struck a fist against a stall door so hard the wood splintered. The sound echoed deep in his soul. In a moment of ragged weakness, he leaned his head against the wall, his throat burning with the need to scream out in agony.

Dear God
, he prayed,
not again
. It couldn’t happen again.

He took a deep breath and filled his lungs with cold resolution. He would get her back. He didn’t care if he had to blow up every damn building in Gaborone. He pushed aside paralyzing fear and turned to face his companions. Letta looked pale as she sat on the floor, but Jason’s face blazed with steely determination.

“Roz is spelling Neil, isn’t she, Matt?” Jason’s tone was flat.

“Yes.”

“Neil isn’t a good person, is he?”

“No,” Matt replied just as flat.

“That means Miranda’s in trouble.” Jason stood immobile, speaking in monotone.

Matt raked a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but they deserved the truth. “Yes, I’m afraid she’s in serious trouble.”

Jason stared off into space for the span of a minute, then seemed to shake himself off. “We have to save her,” he said determinedly. “There’s no other option. The question is how.”

There was no question. There was no we. Matt needed to work alone. “You aren’t getting involved, Jason. These people don’t play nice.”

“To hell with them!” Jason kicked a shovel, and it slammed against a stall door. “If Miranda’s in trouble, I’m in.” When Matt started to argue, Jason continued. “Don’t underestimate me. I learned more than one skill at Redstone. I know my way around rescue operations.”

Letta stood up and wiped the tears from her eyes. She lifted Roz to her hip and joined Jason. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if Miranda’s in trouble count me in, too.”

Even Roz jabbered her intent to help.

Matt didn’t stand a chance. He never did. They were a crazy mixed bag of troops. But they shared one thing in common. They all loved Miranda.

The realization wrapped around his heart in a painful squeeze. No matter the cost, he would get her out of this. Then he’d send her home, safe and sound, so she could marry Hank Meadows and live a long, happy life in the suburbs.

Even if it killed him to do it.

Oh, Lord. She was in serious trouble. And she didn’t even have good sense enough to be scared. Instead, she was just plain mad.

Miranda shifted position yet again, trying for a better hold in the back of the SUV. The dirt road they were on hadn’t seen a grader in years, if ever. Not that it slowed down the driver. He’d deliberately sped over every pothole for the last twenty miles, slamming her and Hank against the hard plastic sides of the old Ford Explorer. When she wasn’t nursing a new bruise, she was bracing against a jarring vibration and struggling to breathe in the endless dust that seeped under the loose-fitting back hatch of the SUV.

When they finally pulled into a rustic village, the relief was almost overwhelming. Too bad it was short-lived. As their pace slowed, they drove around a series of small huts and piecemeal shacks slapped together from the bones of scavenged lumber. There were no friendly faces in the small crowd, only ragged, hard-edged men who barely spared a glance for the arriving vehicle.

Miranda’s heart sank. The place looked like an abandoned village turned terrorist base camp. They came to a stop in a cloud of dust, and then the back hatch opened.

Neil stared at them with unsympathetic eyes. “Get out.”

Hank climbed out first and reached back to assist Miranda, something she appreciated since every muscle and bone in her body ached. When her feet hit the ground, she tried to stretch out the kinks, taking advantage of the brief respite to survey their surroundings.