“What’s 111?”
“He was doing this message in a bottle thing where he wrote notes and stuffed them inside it. I asked him what it was and he said ‘a hundred reasons why and eleven assholes’.”
“What does that mean?”
“I asked that and he said he hoped I never had to find out.”
“His back-up plan. Where is it?”
“My senior year, right before the fire, my gym class buried a time capsule at school to be opened in twenty years. My brother brought that bottle and put it inside.”
“Then we need to go dig up a time capsule. Right after we deal with Jared.”
Chapter Nineteen
It’s ten o’clock at night when we reach the back of my old high school near the football field, and the site of the buried time capsule. Tellar does the dirty work while I, Liam, and Jared keep our flashlights beaming for him. Thankfully, the building hides the lights from the main road. The capsule is buried close to the surface and the shovel clangs against metal in all of five minutes.
Tellar dusts off the big steel box and we squat around him as he lifts the lid. Anxiously, I dig through the various items placed with such care inside, relieved when I spot the bottle. “Thank God,” I whisper, removing it and hugging it to me. “Please let this be the ticket to saving Chad.”
Liam strokes my hair behind my ear. “Let’s hope, baby.”
Tellar shuts the lid and covers the hole and we kill our flashlights to make the dark trek back to Liam’s rental, a massive Land Rover that easily holds all four of us. Tellar and Jared pile in the front of the vehicle and Liam and I claim the back. I immediately uncork the bottle and start trying to remove the paper stashed inside.
“We should wait until we get to the motel again,” Liam warns, having arranged a nicer place for us to stay up the road that he says is safer. All I care is it’s farther from my old home. Being near it is harder than I’d thought it would be. But I’m not prepared to wait to get there.
“I need to know what’s inside and if it can save my brother.” I pull out several pieces of paper from the surprisingly wide opening of the bottle.
Liam curses and Tellar locks the doors with a grumble of, “I guess were doing this now.”
Obviously caving to my urgency, Liam beams his flashlight over one piece of paper after another until I prod, “Well?”
He glances around at all of our watchful gazes and announces, “Names, dates, and types of transactions. And the details are clear. They’re all illegal.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Jared says. “Powerful men believe they can get away with anything.”
Liam arches a brow.
“Some powerful men,” Jared amends. “And the jury is still out on you.”
“How do the crimes tie to Chad?” Tellar asks, ignoring the exchange.
A larger piece of paper piques my curiosity and I unroll it to see the names my brother had alluded to, with Sheridan’s name at the top. I hold it up and show it to Liam. “The eleven assholes.”
“What?” Jared and Tellar ask at the same time.
“When my brother was filling the bottle he said there were a hundred reasons ‘why’, whatever that means, and eleven assholes. These are the names of the eleven assholes.”
“Rich assholes,” Jared adds.
Liam glances at the list and hands it to Jared. “Anyone else you know on it?”
Jared gives it a once over. “I hacked for #3. Don’t know the rest.”
Tellar surveys the names. “No one from our research, but I’ll get Derek to run it through the FBI system.”
“Don’t,” Jared warns. “It could trigger alerts we don’t want with law enforcement. Chad would rather be dead than in jail, I promise you.”
I remove a larger piece of paper with my name on it and show it to Liam. His hand slides to my leg and he leans in as I unroll it, shining the light on it, and reading it with me.
Amy,
If you’re reading this, everything has gone terribly wrong. Just know this: I hope things aren’t as bad as I’ve imagined they could be. It all started with creative fundraising. Dad and I wanted to work certain sites, and it just wasn’t happening financially. That led us to a group called The Underground, treasure hunters all over the world, each with their own leadership. Someone wants something and the price is right, so we get it for them and we ask as few questions as possible. I got greedy. The money...well, the money. I hope like hell you never read this and know the way I’ve let it control me.
I took jobs I shouldn’t have, ones off the grid of the Underground. Well, one of those treasures is what I can’t hand over. It would cost too many lives, and I know you can’t live with innocent people dying any more than I can.
The Underground is working on how to protect me and our family even as I write this. But I can’t take a chance I end up dead and they don’t protect you. Copy the list of names and the one hundred crimes I’ve included. Then tear the list in half to show only the first five names. March into Sheridan Smith’s office and tell him if you, or anyone you need to protect ends up dead, you’ve arranged to have the rest of the list and the documentation I’ve provided mailed to the District Attorney, the FBI, the CIA, and local law enforcement. You have to go in person. Look him in the eyes and make sure he sees no fear. I know how the man operates and this makes certain he really gets the information himself.
This is my fault, Lara, and I’m sorry. I love you and I love Mom and Dad. I would never do anything to hurt you and it kills me to know that I can’t just make this go away.
Chad
His words stab me in the heart a million times over. The bottle doesn’t save him. It saves me. And I wait for some kind of meltdown, but it doesn’t come. It’s there, though, simmering in a hole inside me that was carved with what I thought was his death.
In this instant, I seem to be in that zone of mine, that place my mind takes me when I’m least capable of handling reality and have to survive. I hand the note to Jared and calmly start rolling the other papers back up. Liam’s hand goes to my chin, pulling my gaze to his. “Nothing in that letter says he’s dead.”
“I know I--” Pain rips through my pelvic area and I hunch forward, forgetting the other two men to press my hand between my thighs. “Oh...Oh Liam.”
“What is it, baby? What is it?”
“Call Dr. Murphy. Call her now.” I grab the seat back Jared occupies and another cramp rips through my abdomen.
“Get her on the line now,” Liam is saying into the phone. “I don’t know where she’s at. Just get her.”
A damp sticky sensation forms between my legs and I look down to see blood seeping through my jeans. “No. No. This can’t be happening. No. Liam, no.” I turn to him. “I’m bleeding. I’m bleeding.”
Liam curses. “Get us to the hospital now.”
Jared curses and says, “What the fuck is going on back there?”
I hear Tellar say something to him, but I don’t know what, and really don’t care. Liam pulls me to him and I grab his shirt. “I got you, baby. I told you that. I got you.”
“This is why I didn’t want to be pregnant. I lose everyone.” My eyes burn but not nearly as much as my soul. “Everyone. I’ll lose you too if you stay with me.”
“You aren’t going to lose me,” he promises.
“But you can’t tell me I’m not losing the baby, can you?”
He caresses my hair. “Whatever happens, we’ll handle it together, baby.”
“Wrong answer. Wrong answer.” I bury my face in his chest. He was supposed to tell me it‘s going to be okay, like he always does. Instead, he cups my head and holds me like he’s afraid he’s going to lose me. I squeeze my eyes shut, the dampness clinging to my cheeks and the prickling in my head is welcome over the cramping in my belly. And for once, the past is easier to deal with than the present.
The sound of fire trucks fills the air and I hurt. Oh God, I hurt all over. It’s all there is, but for
the smoke. I can’t escape the smell and slowly I become aware of the crackling of flames and everything comes back to me. My mother’s screams. Mom. Mom. I try to lift my head but I can’t. Tears spill from my eyes and I feel someone’s hand on my wrist, then my back.
“Holy fucking shit, tell me she’s okay. I need her to be okay.”
Chad! I shout in my head at the sound of my brother’s voice but my lungs and throat burn too much for words and my neck is so very heavy.
“Are you insane, boy?” another man with a familiar voice I can’t place, demands. “I told you I’d take care of Lara. Get out of here before they come for you.”
“Is my fucking sister okay? I need to know she’s okay.”
“She’s unconscious, but her vitals are good.”
“Then I’m taking her with me.”
“Is she okay, Dad?” yet another male voice asks.
“Get the hell out of here, Luke!” the first man shouts. “Go now.”
“But Dad--”
“Go! You saw nothing and no one.”
“But--”
“Go!”
There are footsteps and the sirens are blasting near my ears now. I tell myself to lift my head. Lift my head. But I can’t.
“You go too, Chad,” the man commands. “Go now.”
“I am not leaving without her,” Chad repeats.
“She needs a doctor,” the man says. “Once I know she’s okay, I’ll get her out of the hospital. You just get that paperwork we need.”
I blink awake with a cramp and I hear Liam’s urgent voice asking, “Is the baby okay, doctor?”
I blink to find I’m in a hospital bed and a man with grey hair wearing blue scrubs is leaning over me. “I need to run some tests. If you could step out--”
“No.” I grab Liam’s hand. “No. I need him here.”
“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He levels the doctor with a stare. “I’m staying.”
The doctor looks like he wants to argue but focuses on me instead. “How do you feel?”
“I’m still cramping and I think I’m still bleeding.”
He studies me intently. “Were you dizzy when you passed out?”
“I have...another condition,” I comment. “I black out.”
“Her doctor in New York is treating her for it.”
“Can we get her doctor on the phone?”
“I did better,” Liam says. “I have her on a plane headed here.”
The doctor looks startled. “You did what?”
“Dr. Murphy is coming here?”
“Yes. Anything to take care of you, Amy.” He glances at the doctor. “She’ll be several hours but I’ve arranged to have her call in from the plane the instant she’s airborne.”
“Very well,” the doctor says and he touches my arm. “In the meantime, we need to get you into a gown, and run some tests.”
“Does the bleeding mean I’m losing the baby?”
“Not always,” he assures me. “Let’s get those tests done and we’ll know more. When is your due date?”
“June.”
He grabs some kind of spinning calendar and says, “That puts you close to the 3-month mark. We’ll be able to check the heartbeat with some special equipment and do a pelvic exam. Have you had a sonogram?”
I shake my head. “No. No sonogram yet.”
“We’ll do one today. It’s painless and we’ll be able to tell a lot.” He glances at Liam. “I’ll be at the desk just outside when she’s ready.”
He steps out and pulls the curtain, and Liam leans in and kisses my forehead. “Maybe it’s just cramps,” I say hopefully.
“We’ll know soon,” he assures me, tugging my shirt over my head and then sliding the gown over my upper body. I still have on the oversized bra but I don’t care.
Next we remove my pants and when I see how much blood there is, as hard as I try to fight it, tears slip from my eyes. It’s too much blood to just be cramps. I know it is. Looking grim, Liam leans over me and grabs the intercom button, punching it and asking for help.
He swipes at my tears. “Hang in there, baby. We’re going to get through this.”
I cling to his hand for dear life, and looking into his eyes, I see his torment is mine, and while I wish him no pain ever, there is comfort in knowing he isn’t just present, but is as deeply wounded by what is happening as I am.
The nurse appears almost instantly and she places something underneath me and then buzzes the doctor. I grab Liam’s hand again and say, “You’re still not telling me it’s going to be okay.”
He caresses a lone tear from my cheek. “I’m supposed to be here for you even when it isn’t. I’m going to get the doctor.”
I nod and then I endure the pelvic exam but I stay hopeful when the cramps seem to have eased. “Well?” Liam asks before I can.
“Your cervix is dilated. That can be an indication of a miscarriage but let’s do the other testing first.”
I don’t have time to react to the news. A whirlwind of activity follows, through all of which I’m hurting, from heart monitoring to the sonogram, and the doctor and the nurse are incredibly hard to read. Finally, the doctor says, “As difficult as this is, with the level of bleeding, I’m certain that not only are you miscarrying, but I recommend a D & C to ensure you don’t hemorrhage excessively. We can wait until your doctor gets here, but if I can talk to her I’m fairly certain she’ll agree.”
The rest fades in and out. Something about miscarriages being nothing I did wrong. They can’t be explained. I can try again. By the time the doctor is gone, I’m curled on my side. Liam climbs on the bed and wraps himself around me. I explode into tears then, my body quaking with the intensity. And I am crying for more than my child. I’ve lost my brother all over again and have no idea how to get him back, or if he’s even still alive.
***
Twenty-four hours after the message in the bottle and the loss of both my child and my brother, it’s time to leave the hospital. I shower and dress in the black velour sweatsuit Liam had brought to me along with many of my new things he’d bought me in New York. Trying to feel human, I brush my hair to a silky blond mass and even force myself to apply a little makeup.
I emerge from the bathroom to find Liam standing in the room waiting on me. To my surprise he’s dressed in a black pinstriped suit with a crisp white shirt and white tie. His dark, thick hair is neatly groomed, his goatee trimmed to sexy perfection, and he’s simply breathtakingly handsome. So very male, when I am feeling like half a woman, but somehow, just having him here soothes the ache inside me.
“All right, Mrs. Stone, I just need you to sign some papers. How will you be paying?”
I blanch at the sound of the voice of a woman I hadn’t noticed was in the room. Holding a clipboard, she brushes her brown hair from her eyes, and presses her black-rimmed glasses up her nose and nods. “Hello, Mrs. Stone.”
I glance up at Liam and his eyes warm, taking on that possessive quality I have come to know so well and a part of me wondered if I’d ever see it again. Without looking away from me, he hands the woman a black American Express. “On my card.”
She clears her throat. “Would you like to see the total?”
“No,” Liam replies. “I do not want to see the total.”
“It’s quite large.”
He flicks her a look. “I’m good for it.”
“Oh, of course. Yes, Mr. Stone. I’ll be right back.”
I glance down at my arm where the hospital bracelet rests, to read the word ”Stone” and wonder how I had not noticed this until now. Liam steps to me, framing my face with his hands. “I wanted everyone in this town to know I’ve claimed you. You are mine and I protect what is mine.”
“But I don’t. I lost...everyone. I lost our baby.”
“Don’t do that to yourself. You didn’t do anything. It just wasn’t meant to be. We can try again.”
“Do you want to try again?”
“If you do.”
“I don’t know. What if I don’t want to and you do?”
“I just want you and us, baby. And when the time is right, and this hospital room isn’t that time, I’ll ask you to marry me properly and then take you pyramid hunting all over the world. You and me, baby. That’s what I want.”
I press to my toes and kiss him. “Thank you.”
He wraps his arms around me and I welcome the strength and tenderness that is this man. I need him as I have never needed anyone in my life. “I should be the one thanking you,” he murmurs, a rough, raspy quality to his voice.
“What are you thanking me for?”
“For being you, and it doesn’t matter what name anyone calls you. I love you.” His lips quirk. “But I like how Amy Stone sounds. I like it a lot.”
I surprise myself and smile, sliding my fingers in that wonderful dark hair of his. “I like it, too.”
A knock sounds on the door and Liam kisses me before calling for the cashier to enter. “All right,” she says. “Here’s your receipt and you’re all set to go.”
Liam turns to her and takes the paperwork and suddenly, the world outside this room crashes down on me. I’m fantasizing about playing house with Liam when nothing is solved. We don’t know who the stranger I’d seen with my mother is. We don’t know if Chad is alive or dead. We haven’t dealt with Sheridan.
The woman leaves and pulls the door shut behind her. I lean on the bed. “Now we face my Godzilla again and I’m pretty sure your sharks are in for the action, too.”
Liam steps in front of me. “There’s a treatment center in Germany for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I thought we’d fly there and make it a vacation.”
“No. I’m not running.”
“It’s not running. It’s about you getting well.”
“There are doctors in New York.”
He studies me a long moment, his expression hooded. “You want to go to New York?”