Page 34 of Buck Baxter and the Mysteries of Love

“And let’s just say, your secret is quite the Pandora’s box,” I added.

“You have no idea, Mr. Baxter.”

“I think we’re starting to piece it all together,” I answered.

“Which means you’re next. It’s time to leave… for good. No more sneaking these papers out and discreetly replacing them without his knowing. We need to take these to someone who—”

“Someone who’s not dead yet?” I asked.

Her brow creased with fear and heartache. “You know about Agent Jarvis? And the others?”

I nodded.

Mrs. Hart held a trembling hand to her chest, trying to calm her nerves as she spoke, looking from me to Harry. “More lives are at stake. More than you can possibly imagine. When I overheard your father’s business dealings with the Germans, I couldn’t stand by and let it happen. I had to do something to stop them. Before I knew it, the FBI was involved.”

“And before you knew it, they were all dead,” I said.

Suddenly two pairs of headlights passed across the window and we heard the sound of cars braking sharply outside.

“They’re here. Hurry.” Mrs. Hart started snatching all the papers off the desk, scooping them all up and shoving them into Harry’s arms. “Take them. Take them and run.”

Harry looked at his mother with alarm as she reached into the open drawer beside her and pulled out Howard’s pistol. “Mother? What are you doing?”

“You need to take this evidence and get it to someone who can stop this madness.”

“What about you?”

Down the hallway we could hear the drumming of running feet, getting closer.

“I’ll keep them at bay for as long as I can. Although as soon asyour father discovers his desk has been emptied, I dare say you won’t have long to get away.”

“We’re not leaving without you.” Harry turned to me, pushed the papers into my arms, and grabbed his mother by the forearm.

The sound of racing footsteps grew louder and louder.

Harry pulled at his mother’s arm, but she resisted.

“Go, Harry!” she ordered. “Now!”

“Not without you.”

The footsteps squeaked on the floorboards as they slid to a halt just beyond the door.

Harry let go of his mother.

He shoved me against a bookcase.

He kissed me, fast and hard, then yanked at the copy ofJulius Ceasarnext to my head.

The bookcase began to turn. “Harry?”

Harry stepped off the revolving floor. “I can’t leave her.”

I tried to grab for him, but I couldn’t reach him without dropping the papers.

The bookcase turned, enveloping me in the dimness of the tunnel.

I glanced through the quickly closing gap in time to see the one-eyed German enter the den first.

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