Cynthia pretended to people-watch through Michael’s hospital room window as she attempted to sort out the situation. The FBI agent may look like a gorilla, but she was confident his mind was a vise.

Michael would be putty in his hands. Mason wouldn't be happy with this turn of events.

“Michael, dear, you understand your bruiser friend is pumping you for information, right? You must be careful because his boss is close to Liz and could ruin our chances of getting the gold.”

“The gold? Poppa’s concern was about the little girl and me.” Michael studied the rigid stance of his aunt. Her shoulders were squared and tensed. “Have they found her yet? She must be terrified.”

Cynthia moved away from the window and turned to Michael. “You need to remain focused on our goal, Nephew. Isn’t the prospect of gold and a rich future the reason why you came out here?”

“Yeah, you said she’d sell the land. Pretending to be a land developer seemed harmless. And finding the gold was fun. But now—”

“But now, what? Nothing’s changed except we must try a little harder to get the property. We’re close; I can feel it.” Cynthia patted Michael’s arm. “You trust your aunt, right? I wouldn’t lead you astray.”

“But the girl.” Michael’s voice quivered. He stared at Cynthia as if he was seeing her for the first time. “You said your friend had a plan. Did it involve Annie?”

“Michael, you’re letting your imagination run away with you. I’m a librarian, and I bake cookies. I certainly wouldn’t harm a little girl. What would I gain if I did?” Cynthia didn’t consider her nephew the sharpest ax in the toolshed, but his interest in the girl was bothering her. “You didn’t mention any of this to the agent, did you, Michael?”

The young man’s nerves were sizzling as he looked away from his aunt. His fear prompted a sudden gasp.

“Michael!” Cynthia’s soft voice turned icy. “What’s wrong?”

Michael’s eyes were closed as he steadied his breathing. Goosebumps prickled his arm beneath her icy stare.

“Michael, can you answer me? What’s wrong?” Cynthia fought to control her panic. “I understand you were in pain and might have said things you regret. I need to know what he said.”

“Nothing. The pain pills must have worn off, and my leg hurt for a moment.” He swallowed and looked straight into his aunt’s eyes. “Like you, Aunt Cynthia, I could never hurt anyone. The gold is our secret.”

“And the foolishness about my friend?” Cynthia’s fingers gripped the bed railing. “You mentioned nothing about that, did you?”

“There’s nothing to tell, right? You mentioned a friend of yours had a plan to buy the land. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“That’s my boy.” Cynthia unwound her fingers from the railing and patted his arm. “You just lie here and rest. Dream about all the gold we’ll have. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Michael nodded. “I am tired. Maybe I should get some more sleep.”

“It’s a beautiful day. It’s too bad you’re stuck inside the hospital. I think I’ll take a stroll downtown and do a little window shopping.” She leaned over and kissed the young man’s forehead. “Don’t you worry about anything but getting better.”

Cynthia’s brow furrowed as she left the hospital room.

**************

Cynthia tossed any thoughts of a stroll and window shopping into her memory trash. The last hour with Michael left her uneasy, and she needed to check with Mason.

She hurried toward the city park on the corner of Main and Prescott, where she chose a park bench away from the beaten path. The exercise and warm sun had eased her nerves. She didn’t want to sound frantic when she spoke to Mason.

Cynthia rummaged through her oversized purse in search of her cell phone. She removed a water bottle, her favorite silk scarf, her makeup bag, and a hardback copy of James Patterson’s newest Alex Cross thriller before finding her cell. Cynthia laid the phone on the bench and returned her belongings to the bag. Before she stashed the book, she flipped open the front cover and read a paragraph.

Kay had many enemies, but all of them seemed to need her alive. The harder the investigators pushed, the more resistance they find when they leave behind the polite law offices and doctors’ quarters. Alex Cross will need to use all his skills as a doctor, a detective, and a family man to prevent that resistance from turning lethal.

Cynthia closed the book. For a moment, she imagined herself as Kay, outsmarting the famous Alex Cross. Picking up her phone, she punched in Mason’s number and grinned. She envisioned Mason and her, the dynamic duo against the poor excuse for law enforcement. They had no clue what they were up against. One day, she would be Mason’s Queen of Hayden, not the local librarian.

Mason answered the phone. “Hi! I didn’t expect to hear from a beautiful woman this morning. What’s happening?”

“Not much, I guess. I visited with Michael this morning, as you suggested last night. He says he has shared nothing with the agent who rode to the hospital with him.”

“And you believe him?” Mason growled. “A bit of advice, Cynthia. If you want to play on my team, you trust no one.”

“Mason, he’s a kid. Besides, what could he know? Even if he guessed any involvement, he has no proof.”

“I only meant to prepare you, Cynthia. I don’t go down for anyone, including your nephew. If he should cross my path, well, things happen.”

“Mason, that’s my family you are talking about. All he cares about is getting some of the gold.” Cynthia loosened the top button of her shirt. She felt the warmth under her skin. “Tell me you wouldn’t—” Cynthia stopped mid-sentence as she stared at the church across the street.

“Cynthia. Cynthia, are you still there?”

She watched as her arch-nemesis, alias the Bruiser or Poppa, left the church, taking the steps two at a time. He stood on the opposite street corner, waiting for the walk sign. Impatient, Poppa worked the kinks from his massive shoulders, moving them up and down, side to side. When the light changed, he jogged across the street. Cynthia saw him as a bull charging the matador.

“What? Oh, sorry, Mason, I just realized I have an appointment across town, and I will be late. I’ll talk to you later.” She disconnected the call and hurried toward the other end of the block. Once she’d put a comfortable distance between Poppa and herself, she watched until a black SUV pulled curbside and picked him up.

************

At the end of the park, three food vendors hawked their delectable offering to the early lunch crowd. Cynthia mingled among the savory aroma of tacos, spicy enchiladas, rib sandwiches, and half-pound burgers and fries. Camouflaged by the customers, she checked and rechecked, confirming Poppa wasn’t lurking nearby.

Once satisfied, Cynthia crossed the street, dodging a car or two. Unlike Poppa, she refused to allow a “Don’t Walk” sign to hinder her. At the base of the church steps, she scanned the area, assured her mind, and hastened inside.

A few lights flickered on the sidewalls, and sunshine washed through the magnificent stained-glass windows. Cynthia removed her sunglasses and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light.

She marched up the church aisle, head held high in regal fashion. Mentally, she demanded full attention from her invisible subjects. Mason’s power commanded respect, something she wanted more than money.

Outside the rectory door, she knocked. “Hello, is anyone there?” Cynthia could hear some noise inside, almost like furniture moving, but no one answered. “Jon, it’s Cynthia. Are you okay?”

The rectory door hinges squeaked as Jon cracked open, peering out at Cynthia and scanning the church proper.

“Open the door, Jon. What’s the matter with you?”

Jon swung the door open, allowing Cynthia to brush past him into the rectory. “Are you alone?” He stepped outside the doorway, scanned the entire church, and rejoined his visitor in his office.

“Are you looking for the FBI agent?” Cynthia chuckled, unaware her actions were like Jon’s when she saw Poppa leave the church earlier. “He’s gone. Drove away in an SUV. What did he want?”

“He wanted to know if I’d seen the missing girl. Why would he come here asking questions like that?” Jon paced the room and looked out the back door. “Do you think they expect anything?”

“Calm down. You’re acting as if you have something to hide. I certainly hope you weren’t that nervous when you talked to the agent.” Cynthia’s eyes narrowed as she focused on Jon’s face. “I’d hate to tell Mason.”

“Mason! Why bring him into this? I didn’t tell that FBI guy anything. Except I offered to pray for the family. Even said I would go to their home to offer them comfort.”

“What an excellent thought, Father. My nephew, Michael, told me where they live. He was out walking and tried to save the girl but got a broken leg for his efforts.”

“That guy didn’t think it was such a good idea. He told me he needed to check with the family first. I got the impression he wanted to keep everyone away.”

Cynthia browsed the office, noting the dirty carpet from the outside door to the bookcase and his desk. “Your carpet needs some sprucing up.” Cynthia watched as Jon’s eyes shot from her to the floor and back again.

“I vacuumed, but it wouldn’t come clean.” Jon swallowed hard. “It’s from deliveries.”

“Deliveries? You must get a lot of them.” Cynthia continued to move about the room. “Where do you store everything? There doesn’t appear to be much space.” Cynthia remembered hearing what sounded like furniture moving, but she didn’t see any indentations anywhere.

“Miguel and a few others bring boxes of clothes for the poor, but the church thrift store picks them up.” Tiny sweat beads popped up across Jon’s brow. “No need for storage.”

“I have a large armoire I’m not using.” Cynthia purposely moved to the bookcase. “I bet it would fit right here.”

“That’s unnecessary. Thank you.” Jon wiped his brow. “The boxes aren’t here long.”

“That’s fine. It was just a thought.” Cynthia smiled and moved across the room to the rectory door. “If you still wanted to pray with the family, Father, I would be happy to take you there. I am sure they would appreciate receiving comfort from the Lord.”

Jon glanced sideways at the bookcase and then at Cynthia. “Sure, why not. In their time of need, it is my role to bring the Lord to them and pray for the little girl.”

A smile of triumph appeared on Cynthia’s face.

At last, I can meet the mystery women in the cottage by helping Father Jon bring them comfort.

Cynthia smothered a chuckle. “Great. I left my car in the hospital parking lot. You don’t mind walking a few blocks, do you?”

The devious woman stepped outside the rectory. Her nose wrinkled when she flashed a mischievous grin at Father Jon. “It will be a pleasant surprise for them. Hurry, Jon.”

Jon heaved a sigh of relief as he locked the rectory door.








Summary... Cassidy is framed for murder. Allie goes undercover to protect Cassidy, but they are both stabbed. Cassidy's life is threatened again in the hospital, and she is pronounced dead (but actually in protective custody). Mason Caldwell runs many illegal businesses, including drugs and human trafficking. Jon, a priest and Cassidy's brother, has sold his soul. Mary, a caregiver, discovers her child she gave up for adoption thirty years ago. Cynthia and Michael are searching for gold on Liz's property. The mysterious woman (Faith) is dying from cancer and lives in a secret cottage with her daughter, Annie, Sebastion, and Mary. Darryl runs the winery, and Miguel is in charge of the vineyards. Garth and Hank are trying to solve the cases.