No. He couldn’t think of Sara’s child as a mistake. The baby was a blessing—and all the flesh and blood he’d have left of Mad.
“I don’t remember him working much from home.”
“Probably not, but I’m betting he kept his secrets here. Mad believed that information is power. So he knew his enemies.”
“Enemies?”
“You accumulate them in our world. We had enemies in school, in college, and definitely in the corporate world. So I’m sure he kept something on everyone he considered a potential enemy. I wouldn’t even be surprised to find files on myself and the rest of the guys.”
“Shouldn’t we start looking? Most anyone he’s hoarding information about could be a potential suspect. You’ve already been through this desk and you didn’t find anything. So where would he have put that kind of sensitive information?”
“No idea. I only know he would keep it someplace safe.”
“Did he have an actual safe?”
Gabe nodded. “It’s up in his bedroom. I found the combination taped inside his desk drawer down here. I checked inside already, but I didn’t find anything except some cash and a gun I would be shocked if he actually knew how to use.”
Guns had scared Mad. Gabe and some other guys had talked about hunting once, and Mad had wanted nothing to do with it. In fact, he’d tried to talk Dax out of joining the navy because he’d been sure Dax would get shot. But something had scared Mad enough to make him put aside his qualms and buy a firearm.
Everly looked around the room. “He might have another hiding place down here. How old is this building?”
Gabe shrugged. “Pretty old. Mad’s family has been in the city for over a hundred years. His great grandfather was one of the railroad barons. He purchased the big family house on Fifth, close to the Vanderbilt mansion. Mad moved into this place after college. He said he couldn’t stand how stuffy the mansion was.”
“How long has this place been in the family?”
Gabe had heard this story a few times. “A couple of generations. This is where the Crawford men kept their mistresses. Mad suspected that even his father had kept a woman here at one point.”
“Doesn’t everyone have a place for their trysts?” she said, more absently than acidly as she glanced all around the room, scanning, studying.
As she circled the room, Gabe wondered what the hell Everly was up to. She paused in front of the fireplace.
He frowned. “Where do you think this hiding place might have been?”
She took her time answering. “Well, this is the only part of the house that doesn’t look as if it’s been remodeled significantly in the past few years. Paint, yeah. But the rest of the house feels updated and has modern conveniences, like recessed LED lighting. For some reason, he kept this office looking far more original.”
“I asked Mad once—when he crashed in my guest room during renovations—why he hadn’t gutted this part of the house, like he had the rest. He claimed he liked the historic feel in here. At the time, I thought he’d simply gotten tired of having people crawl all over his place and dust spewing everywhere.”
“Is it safe to say this house was around during prohibition?”
Shit. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “This was a speakeasy. It was one of the ways Alfred Crawford made up for losses in the stock market after the crash. The booze money kept him afloat until his legitimate business was in the black again. You think there are hidey-holes?”
“I think it would fit the period of the house and explain why Maddox never had this lower level remodeled. He told me once he knew where all the skeletons were hidden because he’d found their hiding places. Of course, he was drunk when he said that.”
Gabriel didn’t look surprised. “I can only speculate what he meant, but I’ll bet he had more secrets than I imagined.”
She started to knock along the fireplace surround. She was methodical, moving over the wood inch by inch until the rap sounded hollow. “Something’s here.”
Everly felt along the wood, brushing her hand near a seam in the paneling. He heard a soft snick, then a panel opened, revealing a little compartment shrouded by utter darkness.
“Holy shit.” He stared. “You were right. What’s in there?”
She eased her hand inside and began feeling around the wall. “Well, I was right about the hidey-hole. But I’m starting to think Maddox really did use this library for its intended purpose because I was wrong about him hiding secrets in here.” She pulled out a bottle of Scotch. “Wow. This looks old. Macallan 1926.”
Son of a bitch. “They auctioned that fucker off at Sotheby’s last year for seventy-five K. He swore he wasn’t the asshole who outbid me.”
She handed the bottle to him. “Well, it’s yours now. Unfortunately, it’s not going to help us prove anything except that Maddox valued alcohol far too much.”
He cradled the bottle like the precious angel it was. “This is worth every penny. But there has to be more space in there, some other hidden compartment.” He set the bottle down on the desk because it definitely wasn’t going into hiding again. “A speakeasy would have needed a bigger area to stash liquor. There has to be more behind that compartment door.”
Everly shrugged. “Maybe.” As she made her way around the room again, she seemed to study the walls. “It stands to reason there’d be a hidden door somewhere around here . . .”
The west wall was dominated by the fireplace, but there was plenty of space on either side. She ran her fingers along the wainscoting.
Gabe glanced around the mantel, too. Mad had settled a few pictures on there, including one of the six of them on their graduation day at Creighton. They looked so damn young, except maybe Zack, who stared at the camera as though he’d known what kind of weighty responsibility the world had in store for him. Gabe still saw that same seriousness on his face when Zack gave a press conference.
Forcing his attention to the rest of the area around the mantel, Gabe studied a pair of sconces mounted on either side more closely. They matched the motif of their surroundings, but they were ancient. Mad had swapped out all the other fixtures in the room for something that looked vintage but ran more efficiently. These had never been touched. In fact, he’d never seen them lit.
With a frown, he reached up and flipped the switch. The small bulb inside one fixture lit up, but nothing else happened.
“Try the other one,” Everly said, pointing. “It seems to have its own switch.”
“Okay.” He moved to the left and flipped that one on. The lightbulb illuminated, but he also heard a distinctive click.
Everly’s eyes lit up. “There’s a tiny crack in the surround now. I think the whole mantel moves.”
Sure enough, the left side of the mantel had eased ever so slightly away from the wall. He reached along the seams, shoving at the now-exposed door. It was heavy but moved with a little force.
“How big is the space inside?” She crowded in behind him.
“I can’t tell. It’s pretty dark.” He activated the flashlight app on his phone and shined it around the entrance. “Mad must have been in here recently. No cobwebs.” He looked down. “And no dust on the floor where the mantel meets the wall.” He studied the wall to his left. “There must be a light switch.”
Gabe hoped he was right about the recent use of the place. Otherwise, he might be walking into a bug-filled haven. He didn’t mention that to Everly. She seemed tougher than he’d originally given her credit for, but he didn’t know any woman who actually liked insects.
“Here it is.” He found the light switch and flicked it on.
A small light illuminated in the ceiling. When he entered, he discovered a hallway. As they followed it around, he found a long, narrow room with ceilings covered in a dark-stained wood and low lighting. Mad had the secret space filled with comfy seating. A sturdy wooden bar sat at the back with a big mirror behind it, affixed to the exposed brick of the brownstone.
Gabe couldn’t hel
p but grin, both in humor and sadness. “Mad must have loved this place. Wow.”
There had been hidden layers to the man he’d called his best friend for more than two decades. In that moment, he wished they could have shared this discovery together.
But it was damn comforting to share it with Everly, too. He took her hand in his, tangling their fingers.
“This is amazing,” she breathed. “Can you imagine what it must have been like back in the day? New York’s wealthiest men coming here for a drink. Everything looks authentic, even the barstools.” She scanned the room with wonder in her eyes.
Clearly, Mad hadn’t told her his secrets, either. Gabe was as cynical as could be, but even he didn’t believe anyone could fake that expression. God, she was beautiful. She practically glowed. It was damn near impossible to imagine Mad keeping his hands off her. It had only been a few days since Gabe had made love to her and he was dying. Mad had not been a patient man.
She walked over to the bar and stepped behind it. “The next ridiculously expensive bottle of liquor I find is mine. I’ll sell it and pay off my college loans.”
“He’s got a record player in here. How crazy is that?” He looked at the antique thing sitting on a shelf behind the bar. He’d seen something like it in movies before. The base looked like an old record player, but there was a funnel-like appendage attached.
“It’s a gramophone,” she explained. “Turn the handle and see if it plays.”
A vinyl record sat on the machine. He found the handle and gave it a few turns. Louis Armstrong’s “Body and Soul” played through the room.
“That is really incredible.” She gaped, listening with reverence. “It’s like we’ve gone back in time eighty-five years.”
“Is that right, doll?” He did a James Cagney impersonation that was best described as terrible.
Clearly trying not to laugh, she bowed her head, lips pursed together. Then something behind the bar caught her eye.
“Look at this.” She grabbed a metal box and set it on the polished wooden surface. The metallic sheen glimmered in the low light. “There’s a combination lock securing it shut.” She glanced Gabe’s way. “Any idea what this is?”
He shook his head, drinking in her excitement. Then his logic kicked in, and he frowned. Mad had barely kept anything locked in his safe. Why would he stash a metal lockbox in a hidden room, especially when all someone had to do was pick it up and cut off the lock? Mad’s mind had worked in mysterious ways, so he couldn’t be sure . . . except Gabe wondered if his friend was trying to tell him something from beyond the grave.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she breathed. “We may have found something.”
He liked the way she said we. He knew he should jump all over her find—and he would—but he couldn’t let this moment by without touching her.
“Yeah.” Gabe held out his hand. “Come here, baby.”
She stopped, her full attention focused on him. “Gabriel . . .”
“Dance with me, Everly. Just one dance. How often are you going to get to dance in a real speakeasy?”
She pursed her lips for a moment, but then they turned up into a smile. “You know how to motivate me, Bond.”
She joined him in the middle of the room.
“I like it when you call me Gabriel.” He drew her lush body to his, closing his eyes at the perfection of her curves against him.
As he began to lead her around the floor in time to the romantic jazz tune, he was thankful for all the stupid dance lessons he’d been forced to take and the cotillions he’d endured. It made this moment so much easier to sway to the music with Everly, bringing her closer and closer.
She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if she belonged there. “But everyone else calls you Gabe.”
“Some people call you Eve,” he argued.
“Mostly my dad. Now that he’s gone . . . it makes me a little sad.”
“Even when I called you Eve during our weekend together? It felt right to say it because you were so perfect, like the woman God must have modeled all others after.”
She stiffened but didn’t withdraw from his embrace. “This really isn’t a good idea.”
Of course it wasn’t, but he was done fighting his need. “Dance with me.”
She settled back down, relaxing a bit against him. “This place really is incredible. How did Maddox keep it secret from everyone, even you?”
He could smell the citrus of the shampoo she’d used and a hint of her peachy-soft skin. “I have no idea. This place would have been a playground for him. I’ll ask Sara if he ever mentioned it.”
He stopped when he would have gone on. It seemed natural to talk to Everly, but it wasn’t right to discuss his sister with her until he was sure what Everly’s relationship with Mad had truly been.
But she didn’t seem upset or jealous—or have any reaction at all—to Sara’s name.
The music played and they swayed together. Everly’s head came up. Her eyes gleamed as she stared at him. “This is crazy.”
“Yeah. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
She scoffed. “You’ve met a lot of women. It was hard for me to date when I was a teenager. My father would meet any potential boyfriend at the door in full uniform, gun included.”
His parents hadn’t met the first girl he’d fucked. Or the second. Or the third. “Your dad sounds like a smart man.”
He had a sudden vision of the daughter Everly would surely have one day. The girl would have her strawberry-blond hair and sweet smile. And the boys would be all over her. He could do one better than her dad. He could hire bodyguards to protect her virtue.
Damn. He’d thought about having kids with Everly Parker. He was in way, way too deep.
“I didn’t have a real boyfriend until I was in college. Do you know how he met my dad? When we were driving home for the weekend so I could introduce him, Dad pulled him over for speeding. Did a pat down and everything. I swear, I think the only reason Bryan stayed with me was fear that my father would hunt him down if he made me cry.”
“I would like to have met your father. He probably would have been better than the cops I dealt with today.”
“Oh, he would have been so much harder on you. But I think he would have liked you, too. You’re not what he would have expected.”
He was fairly certain what people expected of him. “He would have thought I’d be immature and entitled?”
Her cheeks flushed and her gaze slid away from him. “Pretty much. But you’re not. I think you’re like the rest of us, just trying to hold it together.”
He was trying to hold on to her. For the first time in his life, he’d found someone he couldn’t let go of. “Everly, I need you.”
She rose up on her toes, her head tilted back. “I don’t want to but I think I need you, too.”
It was as close to an invitation as she’d likely give him, and he wasn’t going to question or refuse her. He also wasn’t going to rush this time. He’d been out of control with her this morning. It was time to remind her how well he could take care of her.
He cupped her face, his body never losing the rhythm of the dance. Her hands drifted to his waist, holding on to him. She exhaled, closed her eyes, and offered herself up.
His lips met hers in a sensual brush. As their feet kept time to the music, he led her lips in a dance as well. He sank his fingers into her hair and gave over to the deep need to surround himself with this woman. He slid his tongue along her lower lip until she drew in an aroused breath. Then he invaded.
Everly opened for him, her tongue seeking and gliding along his, teasing and playing. She pressed her body flush against his chest. As the kiss deepened, they lost the dance, primal need taking control.
He slid his hands down to her spectacular ass and dragged her fully against him, letting her feel the hard stalk of his erection, so ready to pleasure her. He’d been surprised at how readily s
he responded to him, but he reacted to her with equal enthusiasm. When she walked in a room, his body prepared itself for sex. When he even thought about her, he got tense and needy.
“Gabriel, how do you do this to me?” She whispered against his lips as her hands began exploring his body.
This was chemistry at its finest, but there was a little piece of him that thought it might be something more. He didn’t say it. He could barely think it when he wasn’t sure where she’d come from or who she’d been to Mad. “We fit. We’re good together.”
There was a very nice couch only steps away, and Gabriel backed her toward it. He didn’t want to wait. Didn’t think he could stand to.
She sank down to the couch and looked up at him, the softness in her eyes slamming into him like a runaway freight train.