Margaret Daley

Buried Secrets


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did tonight, but there isn’t much to go on. We won’t know why the brakes failed until tomorrow, when a mechanic looks at them. But I don’t need a mechanic to tell me they were tampered with.” His hard tone underscored each word of his last sentence.

      “You aren’t thinking of going after these guys yourself, are you?” Ray sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

      “You have a better suggestion?”

      “Yes. Let the police do their job. Stay out of it.”

      “I would, but someone is after the codices, and the police don’t have the time to look for whoever it is.”

      “And you do? What about the expedition you’re planning for next month when the semester is over? We have the backers coming into town in a few days. They want to meet with you. There’s still a lot we need to do. Besides, you’ve got classes to teach.”

      “This is important. I’ll make the time. You could always cover for me if the need arose. And I won’t miss the reception for the expedition backers.”

      “Yes, but—” Ray snapped his mouth closed. “Forget it. I know that look. You aren’t going to give up until you learn the truth.”

      “No, I’m not. Granddad is dead because of the codices. They are the key to what’s going on.”

      The steel determination in Zach’s voice sent a tremor down Maggie’s spine. This man across from her was very capable of taking care of himself—and her, if she let him. She hoped they were on the same side, that he didn’t have a secret agenda concerning the Aztec codices and treasure. It was even possible there were three sides to this—Zach’s, hers and someone else’s.

      “The expedition to the Amazon is important. Don’t forget that. I’ll do what I can to help, but you’re still the one heading it. The backers are funding it because of that.” Ray rose. “I think I do want something to drink.” When Zach made a move toward the kitchen, his friend said, “Sit. Rest. I know my way around. I’ll get it.”

      When his associate left them alone, Maggie said, “He knows about the codices. Who else have you told?”

      “He was with me when I discovered the break-in at my grandfather’s. I never told him about the diary.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Nor the fact I have a copy of the map.”

      “Before you take me home, let me look at your head.” She needed to put space between them, but the doctor in her wouldn’t let her not offer to check out his cut.

      “I’m fine.” Zach waved her off and started to stand.

      “I seem to remember you telling me you’d let me look at you later. Well, for your information, later is here. Now.”

      Coming to his feet, Zach towered over her. His gaze trapped hers. She found herself rising and standing so close to him that his scent surrounded her. Her heartbeat surged.

      “Are you all right? I noticed you limping a little,” he said.

      His tender look trekked down to her parched throat. She swallowed several times before answering, “I’m fine, and this little diversion won’t change my mind. I want to check you out before we leave.” She forced a lightness into her voice, even though the situation between them was quickly becoming serious, the connection they shared strengthening.

      He smiled. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. I’ve never been fond of going to the doctor.”

      “I’ve heard that before,” she said with a laugh. “Doesn’t change my mind. Do you have a first-aid kit?”

      “Yes, I’ll get it.”

      Light-headed, Maggie lowered herself onto the couch. Until he’d left the room, she hadn’t realized she hadn’t taken a decent breath since they had faced each other. Inhaling deeply now, she scanned the living room, trying to get a sense of the man who had taken over her life so effectively in the past day.

      The colors of the room were the tan of the desert and the green of the barrel cactus. Beneath her feet was a beautifully woven Navajo Indian rug, worth a small fortune. The room was neat and orderly, much like her house except hers had a lived-in look while his didn’t. She got the impression he was rarely home. Again she thought of a museum as her regard took in his possessions.

      “Okay, let’s get this over with.” Zach sat next to her and gave her the first-aid kit. “Did I mention I hate going to the doctor?”

      “Yes. Too bad.”

      She managed to block from her mind to whom she attended as she checked his gash, cleaned it then placed a bandage over it. If she hadn’t been able to block him from her mind, she was sure she would have been in trouble. Zach Collier was just too much for her to handle at this time in her life. She had everything mapped out for herself. Her career and new practice were what was most important at the moment. She had spent years becoming a doctor, with she and her grandfather both making sacrifices to pay for medical school. Maybe in a few years, when she was more established, she could think about something other than being a doctor. Who was she kidding? She knew the real reason she didn’t focus on her personal life, and it had nothing to do with her profession. How long was she going to let what had happened between her and Brad Wentworth dictate what she did with her life?

      “Well, what’s the verdict, Doc?”

      “Oh, I’d say at least another fifty thousand miles.” She shoved thoughts of Brad back into the far reaches of her mind.

      “That’s comforting, since this bod may get a lot of wear and tear in the near future.”

      “You really are going to pursue this?” She looked him directly in the eye.

      “Yes.” All the tenderness in his expression vanished, and a ruthless determination appeared in its place. “To the end, Maggie. I won’t let these people get away with what they did to our grandfathers.”

      She wanted to believe him in that moment—almost did. Except, for over thirty years she had been raised to hate, and especially never to trust, anyone with the last name Collier. There was a small part of her that still doubted him even after the brake failure. She felt that if she believed him she was betraying Gramps. “How will you pursue it, Zach?”

      Raking his hand through his hair, he rose to prowl the room. “I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll find the clue in the map, after all.”

      “But you said your grandfather studied it for years and could never find the answer.”

      “I know. He thought he could break the code. If those people hadn’t gotten the diary, we might be able to figure out the mystery of the codices.”

      She busied herself putting the bandages and medicine back into the first-aid kit, while the scent of coffee drifted toward her. Something was going on. She didn’t doubt that anymore. But she had no idea who was behind it. It could still be Zach. The one thing she did know was that she wasn’t equipped to solve the mystery of the codices by herself. If anything was going to be done, it would have to be done as a team.

      A team. The words vibrated in her mind, conjuring up images of she and Zach working closely together, his thoughts hers, his actions a perfect mirror of hers. A warmth suffused her and made her hands quiver as she closed the lid on the kit and set it on the end table.

      I hope I’m not making a big mistake. She inhaled a deep breath to fortify herself and said, “Zach, I have something to tell you.”

      He stopped pacing and faced her. Although his expression became unreadable, his body grew taut.

      “I have the diary,” she whispered. She clutched the arm of the couch and waited for his wrath.

      He closed the space between them, his gaze straying toward the kitchen. “Where?” The deadly quiet of his voice unnerved her more than if he had shouted the question.

      “My grandfather gave it to