Secrets of Harmony Grove (48 page)

Whatever this was about, it was a side of Mike I found very unattractive.

Pulling out my phone, I texted Liz to say that I was sorry, but I would be a few more minutes and for her to please wait for me. Then I put my phone away and focused my attention on the man in the center of the room. If I had to stand here until he was finished, I would. Now that he’d said what he said, I wasn’t leaving without some answers, that was for sure.

It wasn’t until then that I realized Mike had been invited here to demonstrate some kind of technique. The way he began to speak to the class, it almost sounded as though he was an expert on the topic.

“First of all, this is not the best place to train for Krav Maga, on a cushy mat inside a gym. Your workouts should be outside, on uneven terrain, and in more realistic conditions whenever possible.”

Mike asked for a volunteer and then chose one from among the many
raised hands. As the guy suited up with padding, Mike explained to the group just a little bit about the history and technique of Krav Maga. First designed for use by the Israeli army in the 1930s, this self-defense system pulled elements from a number of other martial arts, emphasizing close combat moves and fierce bursts of energy and aggression.

From the way he talked, it sounded brutally effective to me, and soon I was caught up in his lecture and had forgotten to be irritated with him. Facing his opponent, Mike handed the guy a rubber training knife and said to come at him full force and do whatever it took to stab him.

The action that followed was mesmerizing. No matter what the guy tried, he was no match for Mike, who seemed to be using karate blocks, judo throws, and even jujitsu disarming techniques. He hadn’t been kidding when he said that Krav Maga incorporated elements from other martial arts. Soon, the opponent was on the floor on his back, the knife was in Mike’s hand, and the match was over.

Mike stood, offering a hand to the guy to help him up. He asked for another volunteer, and though not as many hands shot up this time, he still had a few to choose from. As the second guy suited up, Mike asked the group if anyone could tell him what the most unique element of what they had just witnessed was.

No one seemed to give him the answer he wanted, so finally I raised my hand. With a bemused smile on his face, Mike called on me.

“You were blocking and striking at the same time,” I said, and I was secretly thrilled when his expression immediately transitioned into one of respect.

“Exactly. Come on, people. She’s a civilian, and she’s the only one in this room who got it.”

Feeling particularly proud of myself, I moved closer to stand among the others and get a better look at the action on the mat. From what I could see, the strength of Krav Maga was in the way it could be done in tight spaces, even where there wasn’t any pullback room at all. Watching Mike easily defeat the second volunteer and then the third, I found myself wishing I had discovered this particular defense method sooner. Most of the techniques I had studied focused on protecting myself one-on-one against a single
attacker, but Krav Maga seemed to offer techniques that would allow one person to ward off multiple opponents.

Of course, that spoke volumes to me.

To show this in action, Mike had everyone step onto the mat—everyone except for me.

“Sorry, Sienna. I can’t let you participate for insurance purposes,” Mike said. Glancing around to make sure that the others were distracted with putting on their gear, he added under his breath, “Not that I wouldn’t enjoy it very, very much.”

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I looked away, stepping back to give them more room.

Over the next few minutes, as the class began to rush at Mike and he fought off every attacker in turn, things grew far more intense. At first, I found myself drawn to the violent spectacle, fascinated by it even. But the more I watched, the more things began to shift. Something about it began to feel disturbing to me. Maybe it was Mike’s guttural yells or his fierce, blazing eyes, or the animal way in which he was so fully engaged in the fight.

Whatever it was, it rattled me. Suddenly, that ever-present element of danger in him was not so appealing, not at all. That intensity that always seemed to burn inside of him made me feel frightened and claustrophobic, as if it might burn me up completely.

My heart pounding in a familiar panic, I moved toward the door, opened it, and stepped into the hall. Taking a deep breath, I wondered if I would ever tell him what had just happened. Certainly, Mike understood panic attacks, as he had helped me through one very serious one in the grove. But this was a different kind of panic. This was about me and him and that strange dance of attraction we had been doing with each other since the moment we met.

As Liz and I drove toward the B and B, all I could think was that the dance was finally over.

Fortunately, Liz seemed to be in a pensive mood, and our drive was a quiet one, punctuated by my occasional directives to “turn left here” and “fork to the right.” As we drew closer to the inn, she apologized for not being more talkative, saying that between a morning in court and an afternoon
at an FBI interrogation, her brain was simply fried. I thanked her again for making the time to come, but she wouldn’t even let me finish, waving away my words with her perfectly manicured hand.

We were just about to turn into the driveway of Harmony Grove Bed & Breakfast when I noticed movement in front of Nina’s house. With a start, I realized she was home. Already?

Supported by a person on each side, Nina was being led not upstairs to her own apartment but straight into her mother’s house. Hadn’t she just recovered consciousness this morning? What on earth was she doing home so soon?

Remembering what Mike had said about Nina blaming me for Troy’s death, I knew she and I needed to talk. If she genuinely blamed me for any part of this week’s tragedies, then I wanted to hear that straight from her, and I wanted to know why. I would give her a little time to settle in, and then I would go over to her house for a chat. Our families had known each other far too long to let this matter rest—not to mention that I very much needed to know what had happened Wednesday night and why she thought I had had anything to do with it.

Turning left, Liz pulled slowly up my long driveway and came to a stop in the parking area between my car and Floyd’s. Thinking about going inside to face him yet again, I couldn’t believe I had agreed to let him stay one more night. As far as I was concerned, morning couldn’t come soon enough if it meant getting rid of Floyd.

Mrs. Prickles met us at the car, with Heath following along behind. As Liz enthusiastically greeted her baby, I simply wrapped my arms around this man and held on tight, whispering a soft thank-you for having remained by my side thus far in this ordeal. Even the fact that he’d been willing to dog-sit back here at the B and B rather than insist he be allowed to attend the meeting spoke volumes about his character.

“Looks like Floyd may not be spending tonight here after all,” Heath said as we headed up the walk. “He’s waiting to hear from the witness protection people, who are trying to expedite things as much as possible.”

Heath had pizza waiting for us inside, but Liz needed to hit the road, so she took her slice to go, promising she would keep me posted on any new
developments as they arose. I had hoped she would be able to spend the night, but she asked for a rain check instead. Heath and I walked her out to her car, and as he settled Mrs. Prickles into the back seat, Liz gave me an extra long hug and told me to hang in there, that this would all be over soon.

After she was gone, Heath and I returned to the dining room and shared the pizza as I went through all that had happened, step-by-step, during my meeting with the feds. Of course, I omitted the part about Mike’s Krav Maga class afterward. Half an hour later, as we were clearing the table, I looked out the front window to see that all of the cars were gone from across the street except for Nina’s and her mother’s. Whether she wanted to see me or not, it was time for me to pay my neighbor a visit.

Heath insisted on going with me. As we were walking out the back door, Floyd came out of his room and asked if there was anything he could do for us, if there was anything at all that we needed. His obsequiousness was more irritating than if he had chosen to ignore us completely.

“Just stay out of my sight, why don’t you?” I told him as I stepped outside.

“That was pretty harsh,” Heath said as he closed the door behind us and we headed down the walk.

“He deserves far worse,” I replied, my jaw set stubbornly.

When Heath and I reached the driveway, we saw that another car had just pulled in next to mine, a black Buick with tinted windows. Discreetly, I reached for the gun at my waist, fearing this was the first of the underworld treasure hunters come to call. But when two men climbed out, neatly dressed and asking specifically for Floyd Underhill, I realized with relief that they must be the ones he’d been waiting for from the witness protection program. We told them they could find Floyd inside.

Then Heath and I drove to Nina’s house together, but not wanting her to feel ambushed by the two of us, I suggested that he wait for me in the car and let me do this on my own. He had brought along the translation of Daphne’s journal and said he would sit in the car and finish reading it while I talked with Nina inside the house.

I went to the door alone, afraid Nina’s mother would be the one to answer it, but before I could even knock, it swung open to reveal Nina herself.

“What do you want?” she asked, bleary eyed and pale. At the moment, I
couldn’t imagine that anyone would call this girl “smoking hot.” More than anything, she looked ill.

I started by asking her if she was okay and what she was doing home so soon.

“No health insurance,” she replied, running a hand through her messy hair. “I couldn’t afford to stick around the hospital any more than I absolutely had to. Is that all?”

She started to close the door, but I held out a hand to stop her, saying no, that was not all and that she and I needed to have a talk. Sighing heavily, she let me in but said her mom had just run to the store to get a few things and we had to be finished before she got back or we’d both be in trouble that she was out here talking instead of resting.

“Then I’ll get right to the point,” I said as she led us to twin rockers near the front window and we sat. “It’s my understanding that you’re holding me responsible for what happened Wednesday night.”

“I sure am,” she said softly, sitting in the creaky chair. “If it hadn’t been for you, Troy never would have been out there trying to beat you to those diamonds.”

I wondered if I had heard her correctly and asked what she meant.

As she talked it became apparent that the poor girl had been manipulated by Troy, who had fed her a bunch of lies. According to Nina, she had spotted Troy in the grove with a metal detector on Tuesday morning and had gone out to see what he was doing. They hadn’t spoken in a month or two, and I had the feeling that mostly she just wanted an excuse to see him. He had acted odd, though, and after talking to him a little, it struck her that maybe he was out there looking for “Mr. Abe’s diamonds.”

“You knew about the diamonds?”

“Yeah, I’ve known about them for a long time,” she replied, but she didn’t elaborate. I could tell from her expression that there was more she wasn’t saying.

She continued with her tale, explaining how she had asked Troy straight out if that was what he was doing. He finally admitted that yes, he was, but not so he could steal them. He wanted to find them for Emory’s sake.

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed.

“No, it’s true. He told me he overheard you and your new boyfriend talking about how the two of you were going to come to the inn next week, find the diamonds, and keep them for yourselves. He said you were currently in Boston, but that as soon as you got back you were coming straight out here to find those jewels. He said he had only a couple of days to get out there and locate them ahead of you. Once he found them, he was going to take them straight to the authorities to make sure Emory got his full inheritance without you or anyone else stealing those diamonds out from under him.”

Floyd was right. Troy
was
a pathological liar, and he had really pulled out all the stops on that one. My first reaction was one of disdain, wondering how Nina could possibly have been so naive as to fall for his lies. My second thought was that I lived in a glass house and had absolutely no business whatsoever throwing stones.

“You believed him, Nina? You weren’t even willing to give me the benefit of the doubt?”

“I did! I called your office and asked for you, and they said you were in Boston. That was all the proof I needed that Troy was telling the truth.”