tunnels at one time and I’m wondering if somehow something or someone got into one of them.”
Rick started. Secret passageways. Underground. That was something Phillips hadn’t told him about. A shudder ran through him, but he covered quickly.
“I have blueprints of the house, but I didn’t see any note of hidden access,” he said.
“Well, no, there wouldn’t be, not on the original plans. When Red Flanagan bought the estate, he had the passageways and tunnels and perhaps a secret room or two built into or under the house to support his illegal business. Then the Feds took over. It’s said they walled off the entrances to the house itself before they sold the property. You know, to discourage any more illegal activity. That was nearly eighty years and two additional owners ago.”
“Where were the entrances to these supposed tunnels?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea. I never even had reason to think about them until the past few weeks.”
Rick remained silent for a moment. Secret tunnels...secret stash? Was that what the intruder was looking for? Something the person thought Red left behind and the Feds hadn’t found? Made sense.
“So start from the beginning,” he said. “When did you first suspect someone was up to no good?”
“About five weeks ago. I woke in the middle of the night because I thought I had heard a noise. I looked out at the lake through my bedroom window and movement nearby caught my eye. A dark, shadowy figure. Someone was on the property, but the gates were locked. The person either climbed the fence or came via the lake itself.”
“You’re sure it wasn’t an employee or guest?”
“It was April and the middle of the week. We have very few guests at that time, and none that night. Day employees—maids, mostly—don’t have keys. So the only ones legally on the property were the cook and concierge, and both Kelly and Gina said they were sound asleep.”
She went on to tell him about other incidents, a few Phillips had already related. It was sounding more and more like the intruder was searching for something specific.
“Has there been any kind of property damage?”
“Not with the first few incidents, which is why I wasn’t too alarmed. But then a couple of weeks ago, I heard breaking glass.” She sighed. “Fortunately I am a light sleeper. Or just an old woman—they say people my age tend to wake up more easily in the night.”
“You’re not old,” he reassured her.
She shrugged.
He went on, “So you investigated?”
“Not then. I was alone. So not until morning.”
“Well, you’re not alone anymore.” Rick handed her his card. “My cell number is there. Program it in to yours. Should you hear or see anything suspicious at any time, call me immediately.”
She took the card and slipped it into a pocket. “I will sleep better knowing that you are around and that I can call on you.”
“Good.” Rick got to his feet. “If you think of anything else—anything at all that might help—let me know.”
Leaving the library, Rick figured this was going to be a piece of cake compared with some of his experiences in a special operations intelligence team. He was going to have to install several security cameras not only around the mansion but also in several other places. The coach house for one. The old boathouse, too, just in case an intruder decided to come in by the lake. Tracking back the way he’d come through the rotunda, he saw that Gina Luca, dressed in a black pencil skirt and a bright red blouse, was standing next to her desk.
“Rick, it’s so good to see you again. How are you getting along so far?”
“I’m doing fine with a little guidance,” he said, thinking of his encounter with the college girl.
Gina’s lips curved in an inviting smile. “I’d be happy to help you with whatever you need.”
With jet black hair that trailed her shoulders, dark brown eyes and a body that would make most men take a second look, Gina was a little too high end for Rick’s taste. He preferred his women earthy and a little feisty.
Now he was thinking of Heather on the grass pinned under him, his hand to her throat, ordering him to get off...
He really hadn’t meant to go on the attack like that. His training had kicked in at the most inappropriate time.
He nodded at Gina. “I’ll let you know when I need something.”
Like information that would help him break the case.
* * *
FOR NEARLY AN hour Heather helped Tyrone and Amber clear the persistent, invading grass from the beach area.
“Wait till my younger sisters and brothers hear where I get to work,” Tyrone said, looking out to the lake, blue-green today, waves swelling and rushing in to shore with a lick of foam.
“How many siblings do you have?” Amber asked as she dumped another plant into the wheelbarrow.
“Three of each.”
Heather started. “Seven kids?” She had her hands full with two. “Your poor mother.”
“Me and my seventeen-year-old sister, Chantel, help her take care of the younger ones.”
“You?” Amber said, sounding disbelieving.
“Hey, I like kids, especially after they get past that crazy stage.”
“When is that?” Whenever it was, Heather wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Actually, there’s two crazy stages,” Tyrone said with authority. “Everyone knows about the terrible twos. But it’s the psycho sixes that get to me. That’s when they become jugheads, think they know everything and get into trouble. Darnell decided to investigate a boarded-up house for ghosts and ended up with a broken arm. And LaVonda tangled with a hornets’ nest. Man, was she ever a mess. I’m glad we’re on our last six-year-old. That would be Vaughn.”
Heather could hear the affection in Tyrone’s voice when he talked about his younger siblings and thought it was both sweet and unexpected.
“So what about you?” he asked Amber.
“Two older brothers. Big lugs. Always trying to take care of me whether I want them to or not.”
“That’s what big brothers are supposed to do,” Tyrone said, then turned his attention to Heather. “Your turn, boss.”
“Younger brother, older sister. And I have twin six-year-old girls.”
“Twins!” Tyrone puffed himself up and swaggered a little. “You need advice on how to handle them little girls, you can come to me.”
Heather laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind next time they make me want to scream.”
