Second Wind (Cypress Coast Book 1) Read online

  Victor secured the credit card receipts and gathered the checks to deposit in the bank on his way out of town. “Are you sure you can handle the gallery on your own for a few days? The holiday season is beginning, and it can get awfully busy around here.”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry about a thing. Have a good time, and I’ll see you Tuesday. I appreciate you giving me next Wednesday and Thursday off for my move.”

  He shrugged into his coat. “And I appreciate being able to take a few days off without having to close the business. This arrangement is a win for both of us.”

  Unlike many restaurants on the peninsula, Earthly Delights was closed on Thanksgiving Day. Sleeping in was out of the question due to Rufus’s tummy alarm, but after feeding him, Laurel went back to bed for a couple of hours. When she finally roused, she found him lying on her pillow, staring at her face from a distance of about two inches. Shoving her hair aside, she pushed up on one elbow.

  “Rowr!”

  Hot, tuna-scented cat breath hit her face-on.

  “All right, all right. I’m getting up. Sheesh.”

  As soon as she moved, he promptly settled into the warm indentation left by her head and closed his eyes. With an eye-roll, she threw on a robe, hit the bathroom, and ran a brush through her hair before strolling downstairs, where she found her sisters lounging on the living room sofa. The clang of pots and pans from the kitchen told her that her mom was already working on dinner.

  Sage saluted her with a steaming mug. “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  Laurel rubbed her eyes. “I was up late last night painting.”

  Angelica popped up from the sofa. “Ooh, your new apartment? Can we see it?”

  “Sure. It’s really coming along. You’ll be amazed by the progress. In fact, it’s almost finished. Rafael and his sons have done an incredible job. Let me grab a cup of coffee and throw on some clothes, and we’ll go over.”

  She headed for the kitchen, but before she got more than three steps, the doorbell rang. She turned toward her sisters and frowned. “Did Mom invite someone else for dinner?”

  Sage’s brows knit. “Not that I know of, but she might have asked Jake. I doubt he flew back to Minnesota for Thanksgiving.”

  Jake. After the way their lunch date ended, Laurel wasn’t anxious to have him hanging around, horning in on her first family Thanksgiving in five years.

  When the bell rang again, Sage set her mug on the coffee table and headed for the door. Laurel stayed where she was but raised up on tiptoe and craned her neck to confirm the identity of the visitor. When she saw his face, her breath stilled in her chest.

  It was not Jake Carlson.

  “Richard.” The name left her lips as a half-whispered curse.

  Over Sage’s shoulder, his dark, angry gaze bored into her. “I need to see Laurel.”

  Sage stood her ground, blocking his entry, but half-turned. “Laurel? Do you want us to call anyone?”

  Fragmented thoughts pinged through her brain like a pinball machine. He’s here. At my house. With my family. What should I do? Call Melody? Or Jake?

  Ignoring the others, Richard glowered at her. “Now.”

  After that last ugly morning in Seattle, she recognized the threat in his tone. Instead of his usual icy control, an aura of frantic desperation surrounded him now. She didn’t want to expose her mother and sisters to one of his volcanic rages, especially not when he had that unhinged glint in his eye. There was no telling what he might do.

  She had to get him away from the house. “Don’t call anyone…yet. I’ll talk to him. Briefly. Outside.” She headed to the front closet to grab a jacket to throw on over her robe.

  At the door Sage laid a hand on her arm. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Laurel patted her sister’s hand. “I’ll be all right. You can watch us through the window.” The last comment was made for Richard’s benefit as much as Sage’s peace of mind.

  Richard stepped back to allow her through the door before he clamped his fingers around her upper arm and steered her toward a nondescript silver sedan parked on the gravel drive.

  Laurel jerked free and halted where she knew her sisters could see her through the front window. “That’s far enough. I don’t know why you’re here. I told you not to come, so say whatever you came to say and leave.”

  He turned and eyed her slowly from head to foot. “You look like hell.”

  “So do you.”

  And he did. Dark circles accentuated the hollows around his eyes, and his skin was ashen. Instead of his usual impeccable grooming, he was unshaven and looked like he’d slept in his clothes. He was clearly in distress, but she refused to believe it had anything to do with their broken engagement.

  She crossed her arms. “What do you want, Richard. I’m not coming back to Seattle. It’s over between us.”

  He shook his head impatiently. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but if I can’t change your mind, I’ll go. Just as soon as I have the stick.”

  “I told you before, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have any stick.”

  “Yes, you do. I put it in your bag. You have no idea how important this is, Laurel. I’ve got to have it.” The pressured pace of his speech was building like a locomotive picking up speed. “Give it to me, now!”

  “A stick?”

  He reached for her arm again, but she slapped his hand away and took a step back.

  Fury flared in his dark gaze. “Stop playing dumb. I know you have it. A black Memory Stick. A flash drive.” His eyes suddenly narrowed. “Unless you’ve done something with it—”

  Sensing an imminent explosion, she eased back another step. “I haven’t done anything with anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no flash drive in my bag. I would have seen it.”

  “It’s there.” Fists clenched, he advanced toward her. “We’re going back inside, and I’ll get it myself.”

  Laurel glanced around but didn’t spot anything she could use as a weapon. In her soft-soled slippers she couldn’t even kick him with enough force to slow him down. She had to think of something. No matter what happened, she couldn’t let Richard get inside the house.

  He lunged forward and gripped her arm like a vise, then began dragging her toward the door. She thrashed and jerked hard enough against his grasp to leave her arm bruised, but she couldn’t break free. He might not have the bulk of a bodybuilder, but he spent enough time in the weight room at his gym to stay in top condition.

  He shook her like a stuffed toy. “Stop fighting me!” When she continued to struggle, he reached in the back of his waistband with his left hand, pulled out a compact black automatic pistol, and pressed the barrel against her temple. Hard. “I’m getting that drive, with or without your cooperation. Do you understand? They’ll kill us both if I don’t.”

  Laurel stilled. Fear mushroomed and clawed its way through her as he thrust the cold, hard metal of the gun against her skull. Her heart pounded in her chest, and panic stole her breath.

  She shot a frantic glance at the front window where Sage stood with a phone to her ear, her lips moving rapidly. “You’d better let go of me and get out of here fast. My sister is on the phone with the police!”

  He tightened his grip. “This place is so far from anywhere, I’ll have what I came for and be gone before the cops can get here.”

  Laurel’s racing pulse sped into overdrive. He was right. Unless a deputy happened to be on patrol in the vicinity, help could be a half hour away. She was on her own. She might not be able to hold Richard off that long, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. Bending her head, she bit his hand.

  He released her with a shout and shook his injured hand. “Dammit, Laurel. Have you gone crazy? You’re as bad as your bloodthirsty cat!”

  She sprinted toward the house, praying he wouldn’t shoot her in the back before she could get inside and lock the door. Seconds later, tires crunched on the gravel drive behind her, followed by the harsh th
ud of a car door slamming. She stopped and turned to see a familiar red truck and Jake racing toward them.

  Armed or not, Richard must have decided against a direct confrontation with the large, angry stranger and was already running toward his car. He jumped in and threw it into reverse, clipping the front bumper of Jake’s truck as he backed wildly down the driveway. Jake stared after him for a few seconds then ran to Laurel. She stood rubbing her bruised upper arm with the opposite hand.

  “What the hell was that about?”

  His fearsome expression might have intimidated her under other circumstances, but at the moment she was too glad to see him to care. “That was Richard.” Her voice wavered when she said his name.

  Jake’s scowl deepened. “Was that a gun in his hand?”

  “Yes.” She wrapped both arms around herself.

  He swore. “That’s why I told you to call me at the first sign of him.”

  “There wasn’t time. Besides, I thought I could handle the situation.” She gave a weak, shaky laugh. “The gun was a surprise.”

  “Let’s go inside.” The arm he slid around her shoulders was surprisingly gentle.

  Before they reached the door, Angelica and Sage spilled out, bursting with questions. Rosemary stood just inside, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “Was that Richard?” Angelica’s china-blue eyes were as round as silver dollars. “What did he want?”

  “Something of his he thinks I have—a flash drive. But he’s mistaken. I don’t have it.”

  “I can’t believe he threatened you with a gun.”

  Sage held the door for them. “I called 9-1-1. A Sheriff’s deputy should be here in about twenty minutes.”

  Jake ushered Laurel inside. “I’ll call them back and see if the deputy can intercept him on the highway. I got the make and model of his car and most of the license plate number.”

  While he made the call, Laurel’s mother embraced her in an all-enveloping hug and wept softly against her shoulder.

  Laurel stroked her back. “It’s okay, Mom. He’s gone. I’m okay. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  Her mother’s voice was muffled, but the depth of her distress was clear. “He…he could have killed you.”

  “He wouldn’t have done that.” Laurel wished she were as confident as she sounded, but at least her breathing had slowed, and her head was clearing. Reassuring her mother seemed to help calm her own nerves, too.

  Rosemary pulled back and wiped her eyes. “How about a cup of hot coffee?”

  Laurel smiled. In her mother’s world, no crisis was so terrible that it couldn’t be improved with food or drink. “That sounds great. Thanks.” As her mother headed for the kitchen, she collapsed on the couch. “I hate to spoil Melody’s Thanksgiving, but I guess I’d better call her. She promised to help me with a protective order if Richard showed up.”

  Jake finished his call and slid his phone into his back pocket. “It’s moved beyond that. The man held you at gunpoint. He’s looking at assault charges now.”

  Rosemary walked into the room carrying a tray with five steaming mugs. “Well, I hope they catch him quickly.” After serving the others and taking a cup for herself, she turned to Jake. “I can’t let myself think about what might have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did. I’ll always owe a debt of gratitude to whatever force brought you here this morning.”

  “Actually, I stopped by to pick up my hammer.” He glanced at Laurel. “I think I left it at your place the other night. One of the guys at work invited me to his house for Thanksgiving dinner in exchange for help repairing the railing on his deck.”

  Laurel set her coffee down and rose. “I’ll get the key, and you can go over and check.”

  “There’s no hurry.” He gestured to her to sit. “I can get it later.”

  She frowned. “But your friend…I don’t want to—”

  “I’ll call him and beg off. He has a small army of in-laws coming to dinner, so his wife will probably be relieved. I can help him with the deck another time, once the cops find and arrest your ex-fiancé. Until they do, I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her heart flip-flopped in her chest. “But that could be days.”

  ****

  Jake would have laughed at the horror on Laurel’s face, but Richard Vargis was no laughing matter. “The man is armed and dangerous and has already threatened you. As long as he’s at large, you need protection.”

  She stiffened and cinched the belt on her robe tighter. “Then I’ll call Melody Hardison. You certainly can’t stay here.”

  He wouldn’t mind bunking on Rosemary’s sofa for a few days, but Laurel’s solution was more practical. Melody was a well-trained, competent officer. There was just one problem. “You’re outside Carmel PD jurisdiction here in Big Sur.”

  Laurel’s mouth took on a rebellious set. “I’ll see if she can spend a couple of nights—as a friend—if that will make you happy, but Victor is out of town and I have to go to work tomorrow no matter what.”

  He considered the risks. “That should be safe enough. Every law enforcement agency on the peninsula will be on the lookout for Vargis. I’m sure Melody can request regular foot patrols past the gallery for a few days.”

  “I’m glad that’s settled.” Rosemary turned to Jake. “So, you’ll be staying for dinner?”

  Visions of roast turkey with all the fixings floated through his mind, only to be shoved aside by what…tofu? Ugh. Oh well, he’d survive. Whatever Rosemary served was bound to be tasty, and he didn’t want to be responsible for tearing Melody away from Thanksgiving dinner with her family. “Sure. Thanks.”

  Jake would have been happy parked in front of the television watching football, but Laurel’s sisters seemed bent on entertaining him with family stories while she showered and dressed. After a half hour of feminine chatter, Rufus woke up and joined the party from his cozy corner of the sofa. The big orange tabby marched over to Jake, climbed onto his lap, and proceeded to knead his thighs with determined vigor.

  “Hey, buddy, pull in those claws, will you?” He winced and gently dislodged Rufus’s razor-sharp claws from his jeans.

  The cat gave him an unrepentant stare.

  Maybe the beast was susceptible to flattery. “You’re looking good without that collar. I’m sure it feels better, too.”

  Jake tried a tentative head rub and was rewarded with a loud, rumbling purr. Growing up on a dairy farm, he was used to barn cats, but they were semi-feral and about half the size of this monster. Rufus barely looked like the same species. He had to be at least half bobcat.

  When Laurel came downstairs, the fickle feline immediately abandoned Jake to twine around her ankles. She settled into a big red chair in front of the bank of windows. Rufus hopped up, made a couple of turns, then sank back into a slumbering mound of fur.

  While holding up his end of the conversation with Sage and Angelica, Jake kept a close eye on Laurel. She remained quiet and subdued—not surprising, considering her ex-fiancé had pointed a gun at her head little more than an hour earlier. His gut tightened at the memory. In his job he dealt almost exclusively with white collar criminals, so the adrenaline surge that accompanied a near-confrontation with an armed assailant had taken him by surprise.

  Like every agent, he was trained and authorized to carry a sidearm, but he hadn’t expected to need one at a colleague’s house on Thanksgiving Day, so he’d left his locked up at home. Fortunately, his arrival had scared Vargis off. He liked to think he could have disarmed the man safely, but desperate men were unpredictable.

  Dinner proved to be some kind of vegetable stew. He couldn’t identify the ingredients, but as predicted, it was delicious. However, the best part of the meal, at least as far as he was concerned, was the pie. Or rather pies. In addition to the traditional pumpkin, Rosemary had made apple and something called olallieberry, which looked and tasted like blackberries.

  When Melody Hardison showed up around seven o’clock with a small overnight
bag, Jake thanked Rosemary and headed home. Part of him hated leaving the McDowell women, but he had no doubt about Melody’s abilities. The original responding deputy had reported finding Vargis’s rental car later that morning, abandoned on the side of the highway a couple miles south of the city limits of Carmel-by-the-Sea. Neither of the local ride-sharing services reported a customer matching his description, so unless someone had picked him up, he was either on foot or forced to rely on the spotty public transportation. Either way, it was unlikely he’d show up again in Big Sur tonight.

  First thing the next morning, Jake checked in with Melody. She reported no suspicious activity overnight and was planning to drive Laurel into town in time to open the gallery at ten o’clock. She promised to update him further once she’d had a chance to touch base with the Sheriff’s Department.

  Jake tried to pay attention to the traffic as he drove up Highway 1 to his office in Monterey, but a steady barrage of thoughts and ideas nibbled at his concentration. His money-laundering case was growing like the radioactive alien blob in an old sci-fi film. He sensed he was on the verge of a major breakthrough if only he could connect the dots. But try as he might, he couldn’t tie it all together…at least, not yet. He needed more information, more answers.

  When he settled at his desk and turned on his computer, the first item in his in-box was an email from a contact in the Seattle field office who was also working the ongoing, multi-office, Russian investigation.

  Spec. Agent Carlson;

  FYI— Richard Vargis and his partner Sergei Ivanov are suspected of having contact with associates of Vladimir Roskov, but we have no information yet regarding any connection to galleries in Carmel. Per your request, we are currently pursuing more info re: the painting ‘Anna in Blue.’ Please be advised, Ivanov may also have ties to Roskov’s methamphetamine distribution ring operating out of Las Vegas. Additional details to follow.

  As Jake re-read the email, Steven Chang, a colleague working the same broad investigation, appeared from around the side wall of his cube.