A loud buzzing sound pierced Nate’s ears, and he flinched.
Maurice, the auction manager, stood at the podium, tapping the microphone. “Welcome to the Prioleau/Habersham auction of the largest private collection of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century pirate weapons in the United States.”
The man droned on about historical facts and saving the turtles, but Nate had stopped paying attention. Sarah had come up on stage. She wore a dress that made her look so exquisitely feminine he turned away to breathe. Her hands were clasped in front, and her hair had been tucked into a knot at the back of her head and decorated with live gardenias.
Her white dress made her seem…utterly beautiful and unattainable.
When she moved to the podium to speak, her voice sent chills down his arms, and he stared at the marble floor. She spoke about the history of the weapons, the desperate and violent world these men lived in, and the political betrayals and upheavals that led them to form a brutal society that shaped the New World.
Flanked by Calum and Carina, whose ancestors had been knee-deep in that society, Nate realized everything Sarah was willing to give up on his behalf. She still had a job, even if it wasn’t the job she wanted. She still had her freedom, even if it was at the expense of her father’s. She still had a life outside this war between Remiel Marigny and the Prince. But once she stole that diary, her life would change forever. And she was willing to do that not just to help her father but to save him.
He was both humbled by what she was willing to sacrifice and disgusted with himself for allowing it. What kind of man let the woman he loved save him?
Calum took Nate’s arm and said to Carina, “Excuse us for a moment.”
As she left to talk to another couple, Nate said, “I’m not sure we should do this.”
“It’s too late to change your mind.” Calum nodded toward Sarah on the stage. “Her boss found out she applied for a grant and fired her.”
Nate wished he had something stronger to drink than ginger ale. “She has nothing left.” And when he returned to Maine tomorrow, she’d be alone.
Sarah left the stage and followed Maurice into the hallway that led to the manager’s office.
“It’s time,” Calum said. “Let’s help your woman.”
* * *
Sarah made her way down the hallway to the hotel manager’s office. Security guards stood in front of the door until Maurice waved a key card. Her hands were sweaty, and she felt nauseated. Within the past hour she’d lost her job and was about to become a felon. She barely remembered what she’d said up on stage since she was still in shock over her boss’s curt text. Thank goodness Maurice hadn’t heard the news yet.
She tossed her beaded handbag on the desk and used two fingers to wipe her damp cheeks. The diary sat on the felt book cradle as if waiting for her to save it.
“The pre-bid price has gone up considerably since getting another appraisal,” Maurice said, taking off his jacket to expose his soaked shirt. “The diary is now going for eight hundred thousand.”
“Dollars?” She coughed on the word. “Why?”
“I found something you missed.” Maurice paused when the door opened again.
Calum and Nate entered, and she breathed deeply for the first time in hours. Despite everything going on, she couldn’t help but notice how handsome Nate looked in his dress trousers and shirt. His long hair was pulled back, and he even wore a tie. When his green gaze landed on her, small tremors started in her lower stomach. Just having him nearby made her feel better. Made her feel as if everything would be okay.
Except for the fact that he was leaving tomorrow.
She shook her head. “What did I miss that would put this diary at eight hundred thousand?”
Nate whistled low and moved closer to the diary.
“That’s a lot of money for a moldy book,” Calum said.
“Who are you?” Maurice asked.
“Calum Prioleau. The senator’s brother.”
“Oh.” Maurice put on his jacket and puffed his chest. “I didn’t realize.”
Calum’s polite smile didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Most people don’t.”
“Maurice.” She pointed to the diary. “What did you find?”
Maurice opened his briefcase on the desk. “I…we…may have been hasty in our decision to publicly mock your thesis.”
She checked her watch as Nate’s hands moved to her shoulders. Ten minutes until noon.
With a huff, Maurice took out a velvet bag and black zippered case. After opening the bag, he handed her the magnifying glass that clipped onto her glasses. Then, from the case, he gave her a pair of cotton gloves, a dusting brush, and a bone folder. “Tell me what you think. Just remember the pressure alarm.”
Nate pointed to the lens she attached to her right eyeglass lens. “What is that?”
She put on the gloves and glasses. “A monocular. It magnifies up to three times.” She held a stick that looked like a tongue depressor. “The bone folder allows me to turn pages without touching them.”
Nate smiled. “Sexy.”
Calum laughed as he took out his phone and texted.
She studied Rebecca’s diary. It was open to two pages she’d never seen before. Pages that had been stuck together and were now sliced apart. “Who did this?”
“I did,” Maurice said. “The secondary appraiser requested I do so.”
Nate snorted. “You mean Augustus?”
“Excuse me?” She raised her head too fast, and because of the monocular, her vision was wonky.
“Who is Augustus?” Calum asked.
“Sarah’s loser ex-fiancé,” Nate scoffed. “A short, betraying sack of shit.”
“Really?” Calum stared at her, one eyebrow cocked. “You have a loser ex-fiancé?”
“Short loser ex-fiancé,” Nate said again. “Did I mention he’s a betraying sack of shit?”
“We broke up.” She returned to her inspection. “Maurice, why would Augustus appraise my diary?”
“Since Augustus is now with Grayson Insurance, the company underwriting this auction, I asked for his opinion.”
“Does Senator Prioleau know you’ve been appraising her almost-million-dollar manuscript in a hotel manager’s office?”
“I sure as hell didn’t know.” Calum crossed his arms and assumed an indignant air. “I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“One must do what one has to,” Maurice said in a sheepish voice.
“I bet.” She ran the brush over one of the cut pages. Her vision fixed on the Latin phrase written on the bottom. “Hic est finis iter est scriptor.”
“Here is my journey’s end.” Calum stood close enough for their shoulders to touch. “The T-shirt?”
“No,” Maurice said. “Shakespeare. Othello, I believe.”
Calum rolled his eyes, while Nate’s nod told her he recognized it as well.
Mildew filled her sinuses, and she tasted the mustiness. Using the brush, she swiped it over the opposite page.
Along the edges, Rebecca had sketched five-petaled roses and five-pointed stars. At the top was a notation: 52OTH310332. Below that were alphanumeric sequences she recognized as part of the cipher. Despite her hands perspiring through the gloves, she took photos with her phone. If Maurice could break the rules, so could she. “Maurice, I’m not seeing anything that would make this worth more money.”
“A piece of paper had been folded up and shoved between those two pages. Mold and damp had glued it in place.”
“And you unfolded it?” Her boss would have locked her in an underground storage vault if she’d attempted something like that outside the lab.
“Needs must.” Maurice pointed to a document lying on a piece of muslin on the desk.
She went over to look at the document and covered her mouth so she wouldn’t scream.
“What is it?” Nate said, coming up behind her.
She took off the gloves and monocular and dropped them on the desk. “It’s a marriage license.” She pointed to the signatures on the bottom. “Thomas and Rebecca were married.”
* * *
Etienne wandered around looking at the weapons and trying not to fidget in the suit he’d borrowed from his brother. After making it to the shoreline, he’d returned to his family’s cabin on the Isle of Grace. Thankfully, none of his brothers had been around to ask questions.
Exhausted, he’d taken a shower and drunk a pot of coffee while figuring out his next step. He had a radical idea that could get him killed. But it meant he had to get close to Sarah, which wouldn’t be easy with Walker around.
Etienne had known Sarah would be here since the Warden had been tracking Sarah’s every move for the past few months. And he’d been able to get into the auction because one of his second cousins was a security guard.
After Sarah’s speech, he watched her go through a side door to the admin area of the hotel. Walker and Calum Prioleau followed her, and Etienne followed them. Luckily, his cousin and a high school buddy were both on duty and appreciated the smoke break. His cousin had even offered a security walkie-talkie to keep track of everything.
Now Etienne had his ear on the door, listening.
* * *
Sarah took out her phone and photographed the license. She still couldn’t believe that Thomas had married Rebecca. Not betrayed her. Although the information didn’t matter for her career—because that was burnt toast—it was validation on behalf of her mother who’d always believed that Thomas had loved Rebecca.
Would the information change the world? Or even make the nightly news? No. It meant her mother’s trust in true love had been well placed.
Meanwhile, Maurice clasped his hands and rocked on his heels. “I think you’ll agree that this marriage license significantly increases the value of this diary.”
“You’re right.” She checked her watch and nodded at Nate. “And I’m sorry.”
Maurice frowned. “For what?”
“For this.” Nate hit Maurice on the chin, and he dropped like a cinder block until Nate caught him and lowered him to the ground.
Meanwhile, Calum had opened the windows and was texting. “Zack knows you’re on your way.”
“Sarah,” Nate said. “Out. Now.”
Sarah took the marriage license, folded it, but before she could shove it in her purse, Nate took it. “What are you doing?”
“You’re leaving now and I’m taking the diary and this license.” Nate dragged her toward the window. “I don’t want you involved in stealing anything. I’m not arguing about this.”
“But—”
Nate kissed her hard and then went back to Maurice’s body on the floor.
Calum pointed out the window. “Do you see that flash of light from an alley on the other side of the garden and across Abercorn Street?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Zack. He’ll take you to the truck. You should be able to get out of town from there, but you only have half an hour.”
She glanced at Nate, who was rummaging through Maurice’s pockets.
Calum shook her shoulders. “Nate will meet you.”
No. She wasn’t going alone. “This isn’t the plan we agreed to.”
“It’s the plan that’s in motion.”
She peered over the window’s ledge and she saw boxwoods three feet below.
Calum pushed her shoulder. “Go.”
Once her dress skimmed the window ledge and her feet hit the ground, she ran across the garden and through a parking lot. The heat shocked her. It’d gotten at least ten degrees warmer since she’d arrived. She wanted to look back. Instead, she slowed to cross the street like a normal person and walked until she fell into Zack’s arms.
“In the truck.” Zack pointed to the work truck parked at the end of the alley. “Now.”
While Zack returned to his position, she climbed into the cab and started it. As she waited with the AC blasting, she clasped her fingers behind her neck and closed her eyes. She was supposed to be the one to steal the diary. She was supposed to take the blame. She didn’t want to give anyone more reasons to send Nate away.
A loud alarm rang out. While she didn’t see anything resembling panic, a loud noise started that sounded like a car alarm on steroids. Then she heard a gunshot.