Page 78 of Wind Valley

The woman held a gun, which she waved toward a chair next to Pinky. Hands still in the air, Maura carefully stepped to where the woman was gesturing, making her way past some papers strewn on the floor. Lachlan recognized those papers from the Reeds’ boxes.

So Andrea Reed was looking for something in those boxes?

Lachlan’s brain snagged on a small detail, as it often did. The ski suit. Something about it was bothering him.

Why had Andrea Reed skied here? Why not ride a snowmobile? She must be a strong skier, but even so, the Skidoos were so much faster…

And there it was. Suddenly his brain put together the pieces and he knew what was going on with the wildlife in Wind Valley. He knew what the “nulls” were, and why Dr. Reed had been so frustrated.

A moment later, pain shot through his head and everything went black.

41

When he came to, he was inside the house, a bungee cord lashing him to a chair right next to Pinky. The old Newfoundland, Newman, was huddled against Pinky’s legs. Lachlan wasn’t sure who was watching over whom; maybe they were protecting each other. Andrea Reed was kneeling on the floor, sorting through papers. Maura…where was Maura? He could hear her voice, anxious and placating.

It was a tone of voice he’d never heard from her before, and it sent chills through him.

His head throbbed as he craned his neck to find her. There she was, near the door, facing off with a large man who had to be the infamous SS.

So that’s who had knocked him out. Were he and Andrea working together? Or was he letting Andrea search the papers because she had a gun?

He tuned into the conversation between Maura and SS.

“I promise I’ll go with you quietly without any fuss,” she was saying. “Just don’t hurt anyone. That’s my only request.”

“Too late. I already hurt your boyfriend.” The disgust in SS’s voice made Lachlan recoil. He was large, this man, with big hands and bulky shoulders. He wore blue jeans—the worst thing you could wear in winter weather—and a black ski parka, but there was no sign of the yellow-and-green beanie. Maybe he’d figured out how recognizable it was.

“No, no, you have it all wrong,” Maura said. “He’s nothing to me. Total nerd.” She didn’t even glance at Lachlan. He knew she was trying to keep him out of danger, but damn, he hated that she had to talk and act so out of character.

“That’s right,” said Pinky loudly, spitting the rag away from his mouth. “Ain’t nothing going on between these two. They weren’t in my second bedroom this week, not at all.”

Not helping, Pinky. Lachlan gritted his teeth and decided it was his turn to speak up.

But all that came out of his mouth at first was a loud groan. Maura’s head jerked toward him, and he saw panic and distress on her face.

SS’s expression darkened. “Come on.” He jerked Maura’s arm, sending her stumbling toward the door.

Keep him from leaving. Say something.

The longer he kept SS here, the better the chances that the Skidoo armada would arrive.

He cleared his throat. “Are you really going to walk away from a gold mine?” Lachlan called after them. “If so, you’re even more stupid than I thought. You’re going to need a lot of money for lawyers after this. You keep piling on the crimes. Assault, kidnapping, the list goes on.”

SS strode back toward him and punched him in the jaw. It hurt like hell—Lachlan suspected heavy steroid use behind that punch. Possibly other drugs, too, now that he got a close-up look at SS’s bloodshot eyes.

“What gold mine are you talking about? Is it a real gold mine?”

Lachlan gestured with his head toward the papers littered across the room. “Wind Valley. There’s something out there worth a fortune. That’s what she’s here for.”

For the first time, Andrea Reed looked at him, fury in her gaze. He gave her a quick shake of the head to indicate he meant her no harm, and to go along with it. “Tell him, Andrea. Tell him about the treasure you and your husband left there.”

“Ex-husband.”

“That’s right, your ex-husband. You fought about it, didn’t you? Divorced over it. He wanted to abandon the project. But you wanted to exploit it.” He winced, realizing that was the wrong choice of word. “Develop it,” he corrected. “It could be a breakthrough, if only he’d get onboard.”

“It’s not just up to him.” Andrea sorted through more papers. “Where the hell is it? Pinky, where’d you put the rest of our stuff?”

“I didn’t do nothing to your stuff,” Pinky said defensively. “But I could if I wanted to. I’m a recycler. That’s what I do. What is it that you’re looking for?”

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