Trove (The Katie Walsh Mysteries) (29 page)

Katie woke fully sated, wonderfully relaxed, and deliciously loved. She stretched and glanced at the clock radio. It was 3:12 a.m. Why, no matter where she was, did she wake up frequently around 3 a.m.? She glanced over and saw her laptop was still on. Thank goodness she plugged it in earlier and it was running on real juice and not the battery. She had no idea when they’d be able to charge it, so it was important that she reserve the battery charge. She rose and went over to log off and shut it down. Her email was active. She remembered that Alec had been reading it last.

She checked her inbox. There were two new messages. She opened the one from Willie.

Sorry, Katie. I’m still trying to identify the original sender. Whoever this guy is, he’s good at covering his tracks. While the servers are definitely at the Institute, when I trace back the routing, the address loops back and forth through multiple servers. I’ll keep trying.

Her shoulders slumped. If Willie couldn’t identify this creep, she didn’t know who could. Part of his expertise had been in computer forensics during the first Gulf War. Though he rarely talked about what he’d done, he did let on that he was a field desk jockey, tracking electronic message and cell phones. Her mind drifted back to the photo. If it wasn’t Alec and she just knew he wasn’t involved, then how was the jerk able to get it? That wasn’t her room and the odds of her ending up in that room were astronomical, so clearly someone wasn’t stalking her. And as far as she knew, Alec was not into anything clandestine or illegal like artifact smuggling, so why was there a camera there?

Why did she pick that hotel? Was there some connection to her staying there? She thought back to the circumstances that led her to the Uber Metro Hotel
.
She’d been staying at Willowton, doing research for about a week. She’d discovered that Willowton was situated over an underground river and at the intersection of three powerful ley lines. It was like sitting on top of an electrically charged object. Clearly it played havoc with her biorhythms.

Snippets of her memory were rising to the front of her mind now, starting to fall into place. She’d been talking with Lord Chester, telling him how his estate wound her up. He agreed and told he
r that’s why he didn’t stay there for any length of time, preferring his home in London. He told her some people were affected by the electrically charged atmosphere while others weren’t. She was one of the more sensitive, like him.

Katie told him she just couldn’t take the train up to London to be surrounded by the seething mass of people at Heathrow and she definitely couldn’t survive being cooped up in a plane for six hours. She needed to decompress for a few days, but the last thing she wanted was some staid hotel. She inhaled as she remembered it all now. Lord Chester was the one who told her about the Uber Metro Hotel. It was sleek, modern, full of glass and chrome and he’d recommended it to other visitors to Willowton.

She slumped back into the chair as it hit her. He was connected to the Institute. The Institute had an agreement with Lord Chester that permitted Willowton to function as an off-site unofficial campus of the main location in Boston. Researchers came to spend time quite frequently. “My God,” she whispered. “Is it him? Lord Chester?”

She typed a reply to Willie’s email.

Willie, I need to ask you another favor. While I’d still like you to keep trying to find the origins of the email, I need you to see if you can find out who owns the Uber Metro Hotel in London. And in case it may have been sold over the intervening years, I’m particularly interested in who owned it five years ago.
Call Alec’s cell if you come across anything, regardless of how remote it might seem.

Hopefully Alec’s phone would work out near Duntulm. She had no faith that she’d pick up an internet connection. “Great move,” she muttered. “I just had to murder my cell phone now.” She shook her head. “And to think I called him impulsive.”

She continued on to the next message. Her stomach lurched as she read the subject line:
HERE’S MY GIFT TO YOU, MY FRIEND
. His use of the term “my friend” unnerved her. How was it possible that two simple words would cause the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end? She double clicked the message and began reading.

Katie, I promised you a good faith example of what I could offer you in return for your acceptance of our agreement. While I regret the angst this might cause, I feel you have a right to know the story of Josh Mason. As I mentioned earlier, there is a connection to your past. I look forward to receiving your translation.

She hesitated before she continued reading as goose bumps covered her arms and her heart and respiration increased. She knew what she was about to read was in all probability going to change her life, and not for the better. She clenched and unclenched her left hand.
Why can’t people just leave me the hell alone
, she thought. She detested all this intrigue. Hadn’t she always told people to be direct?

She steadied herself by breathing deeply and slowly. Repeatedly she did this until the rhythm became automatic. She sat up straight in her chair and braced herself. She double clicked and scrolled down to the first line.

While he was an archaeologist, Josh Mason is not the full name of the owner of the dossier you are trying to research. His full name was Andrew J. Mason.

The alarms went off in her head. She knew that name. The archaeologist responsible for her parents’ death was Andrew Mason. Was it the same man? She read on.

He and Dr. MacGowan were very close friends for a number of years but they drifted apart after Josh’s involvement in your parents’ deaths.

Her hand flew to her mouth. She was going to be sick. It was the same man. The man who had been murdered and the one she was helping Alec seek justice for was the monster that carelessly set the catastrophe in motion, the one where her parents had suffered a horrific death, the memories of which still haunted her ten years later. She slammed her laptop closed and fled to the bathroom just as she retched, emptying the remnants of her supper into the cold bowl. She flushed the mess away, collapsed on the floor and sobbed quietly. What a fool she’d been.

When the tears subsided and turned into soft hiccups, Katie came to the realization that she couldn’t stay here, couldn’t face him. She had to leave. He’d lied to her, deceived her. He knew who she was, who her parents were, and worse, he knew Josh’s true identity, knew that he was Andrew Mason.

She shook her head as she rose. What a bloody idiot. He played her like a fine violin, and she’d let him, encouraged him even. Well, no more. She walked quietly, furtively back into the room and dressed quickly.

She grabbed her duffel bag and set it by the door. She bent over her laptop and typed a response to her new friend.

I don’t know when I’ll be in touch as I won’t be near any internet access and I had an accident with my phone. I’ll do what I can and deliver your request as soon as I’m able.

She sent it then logged off and powered off her laptop. She packed it in its case and headed for the door. As she left, she glanced back at Alec. In the dim outside light that filtered in around the curtains, she could see his face. He was smiling. She brushed back the tear that spilled down her cheek.

She stopped at the front desk, unsure where to go or what to do next. She pulled a tissue out of her jacket pocket and dabbed her eyes, wiping the tears away before they could cascade down her face or blind her. She glanced at the wall on the clock lit by the several nightlights glowing around the reception area. It was just after four a.m. and there wasn’t anyone around. Most likely nothing would be open at this hour. She needed coffee. She needed a clear head and space, lots of space.

She picked up her bags and headed out the door. She walked along the waterfront and took a turn heading down the boat ramp. Odds were the fishermen would be there soon and then she could… she could what? Offer them money to take her somewhere, but where? She leaned against the massive stone wall that supported the street above. She had no clue as to what to do next. She was sure she could get a bus back to the mainland sometime later today, but then what? She came here for two reasons. One was to help identify Josh’s murderer. She shook her head.
Not my problem.
Now there was only one reason, to see if she could find any trace of Norland.

She slid down the cold stone and plopped on her duffel bag. She leaned her head forward, braced her arms over her knees, and rested her head on them. Then she sobbed softly, her anguish the only sound besides the water lapping at the foot of the boat ramp, both gently breaking through the lightening sky and the otherwise absolute silence surrounding her. She was alone again, so very alone.

She heard footsteps. There was someone walking down the ramp towards her.
Please don’t let it be Alec
, she prayed. She froze in place, hoping whoever it was would walk right on by.

“It’s too early to be so sad,” a male with an American accent said.

It wasn’t Alec. She raised her head.

“Why so sad, Little One?”

She bristled at his use of her father’s endearment. Clearly he was pointing out her lack of stature, which made the term more offensive to her. She straightened her back against the wall. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

“Whoa,” he said putting his hands out in front of him, palms facing her. “I meant no offense.”

“Fine.” She sniffled. “Just don’t call me that.”

“Understood. What should I call you?”

“How about a cab?” she replied.

His laugh was genuine and bounced off the stone. “Okay, you’re a cab. Nice to meet you, cab.”

Katie knew that Portree was a quaint port city. Full of friendly people and dependent on a lively tourism industry. Katie relaxed a bit and smiled. “You always so literal?”

He shrugged. “I was hoping to make you laugh.”

Something about him made Katie relax. Did he remind her of Alec? Or Robert? She wasn’t sure what it was, but instinctively she wanted to trust him. She relied on her sense of people, and the alarms weren’t going off. “Well, it worked.” She smiled. “Thanks. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Call me Drew,” he said as he squatted beside her and offered his hand.

Katie studied his face. The sun, just at the horizon’s edge, lit his eyes. They were deep brown with flecks of gold, and his lower face was covered in a very closely trimmed beard and moustache. His full head of hair was wavy and medium brown with traces of sun-streaked blond. She slipped her hand into his and shook it. “I’m Katie.” She grinned. “But feel free to call me ‘cab’ if you want.”

“Well, Katie, what are you doing sitting on a boat ramp, crying in the pre-dawn? Have a fight with your boyfriend?”

She sighed. “Yeah, something like that. Why are you here?”

“I’m an early riser and I confess, a bit of an insomniac. I walk through the town and enjoy the quiet. It helps me think,” Drew said.

“I can understand that.” She started to rise. “You’re American or Canadian?”

“American.”

“So how’d you end up here? It is a bit off the normal tourist spots.”

He helped her stand. He checked his watch. “Would you like a cup of coffee? I know a little breakfast place that opens in a few minutes.”

“Really? Why so early?”

“Gets the local fishermen trade before they head out for the day. Interested?”

Portree was a quiet place. She felt safe walking the dark streets here, but should she go off with this stranger? Alec’s warning filtered into her thoughts. It was only coffee and maybe breakfast. They’d be in a public place surrounded by people. She’d be okay. Nothing would happen. She stood and collected her bags. “I’d love a cup of coffee,” she replied as she started up the boat ramp.

He reached over and took her duffel bag before she could protest. Drew grinned. “So I’m a bit of a chauvinist.”

She laughed softly. “I’m not complaining.”

They walked to the top of the ramp. “Which way?” she asked.

He pointed to the right, away from the hotel. She followed as he led the way.

They walked about a block from the hotel. While there were lights on in singular rooms in some houses as people began their day, it was still very quiet. She looked around. They seemed to be headed toward a mostly residential area. Her alarm bells started to ring. What the hell was she doing? Alec was right… she didn’t take this whole thing seriously, but since her “friend”
let on that he was responsible for the gorilla in the North End, her danger radar reset to zero. Only now, it was soaring into the stratosphere. She stopped walking. “Drew?”

He was ahead of her, standing by a car. “Yes?”

“How far is this place?” she asked as she looked behind her. They were out of the downtown area. She turned back, queasiness settling in her stomach. Her legs tensed, ready to flee. Something was not quite right, she could feel it. “You know what? I’ve changed my mind. Give me my bag please.”

Drew shook his head. He opened the car door and tossed it in. “Get in, Katie.”

She shook her head and backed away. “No. Just leave my bag on the curb, or so help me, I’ll scream.”