Hidden Fire (2 page)

“Mom, sit. Dad, stop squirming around. You'll hurt that leg.” She eyed the complicated contraption of pulleys and ropes that suspended her dad's right leg above the bed.

Pulling a chair up to the bed, she perched on the edge. “Dad, tell me exactly what happened. Mom, you'll get your turn in a moment.”

“We were at the local mall. You know, the one just down from our place.” He flicked a glance at his wife. “What's the name of that one, dear?”

“Not important, Dad,” Gili interrupted before her mother could respond. “Go on with your story.”

“We walked along that concrete path from the car park. There were lots of people going into the mall. I got jostled, fell into the roadway and got clipped by a car. Damn clumsy of me, even if I do say so myself.”

Her mother opened her mouth to say something and Gili let her go.

“He didn't just get jostled, as he calls it. Someone pushed him in the middle of the back. And I keep telling him I saw Whitey standing behind him. But in the panic after the car hit your father, he disappeared.”

“Now, dear, we can't be certain it was him.”

“I'm telling you, Joshua, it was him. He's lucky he didn't kill you. It was a message from Jeremy. As it is, you have to go through surgery to have the leg pinned and stabilized, and then you'll be in plaster for the next three months.”

Gili closed her eyes a moment.
Jeremy Grissom
. She should have known he'd be behind this.

Things had been different when Jeremy's father, Gerald, was alive. Gili had gone to work for him as assistant curator of the Grissom Museum straight out of college. Gerald had been a kind, adventurous sort whose heart was in the right place. He'd commissioned her father and mother, both trained anthropologists, to recover unusual ‘lost' gems for his museum collection. When Gerald died, Jeremy, along with his son, Whitey, had taken over the running of the museum.

“When I quit six years ago, you two said you'd finish up your contract and tell Jeremy to take a hike.”

“This is the final job. Then we'll be free of him.” Her father grimaced. “I'm getting too old for this lark, love. I missed something important. He paid us double for the last job. I didn't question it, just assumed it was a bonus. Now he tells us he paid for the recovery of some Australian opal as well.”

“So why the hell hurt you?” Gili gestured to her father's leg. “You can't do anything with that.”

“I told him we weren't doing it,” her mother interrupted, “and this is his response. If we hadn't spent the money doing up the house, I'd give it back and tell him to shove it. Then, while we're in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, we get this.”

Gili took the mobile phone from her mother and read the last text message:
Three choices. Get me the gem. Return the money. Or more of the same.

Well, that answered that question. Definitely Jeremy and his scummy son. Gili dragged in a shaky breath. Jeremy had always been an obnoxious bastard who'd betray his best friend if it meant he could get his own way, but even he had gone too far this time.

She stood and moved the chair back to the side wall. “I'm going to have a little talk with Jeremy.”

“No, love, stay away from him.” Her father strained at the pulley restraints that held him captive.

Her mom tried to stop her from leaving the room. “Don't do this. That man is evil. We'll work it out.”

Gili continued towards the door. “You look after Dad. I'll see to Jeremy.”

Once out of the hospital, it didn't take Gili long to collect her vehicle and head to the museum. Traffic was light and ten minutes later she'd pulled into the back parking lot. Relieved Jeremy hadn't changed the access code, she let herself into the building and headed for the offices on the lower level.

After managing to avoid seeing either Jeremy or Whitey over the past six years, now her gut churned and her hands trembled. The nausea swirling through her stomach threatened to overwhelm her. Then she straightened her spine and continued on past the immense vault situated beside what had become Jeremy's office.

She frowned as she noticed the open door. There's no way that should have been left open. Talk about a breach of security. In her day—

No, this wasn't about her. This was about getting her parents off the hook and giving Jeremy a piece of her mind.

Focused on Jeremy's office, she tried to ignore the vault, until a cold voice brought her back to the opening.

“Wondered how long it would take you to get here.”

Jeremy.

Her old boss was seated at a table on one side of the cavernous room, his polished black boots propped up on the timber surface. His thick white hair flopped over the front of his wrinkled face. He flicked it back and gave her a smile. Quite innocent and benign—unless you noticed the malicious glitter in the blue depths of his eyes.

“What made you think I'd come looking for you?” She curled her lip and gave back smile for smile.

He casually brushed aside the semi-precious gems cluttering up the table, unconcerned when they tumbled to the floor. Dragging his feet down, he pushed himself upright and stalked across to Gili. One hand he kept tucked deep in his trouser pocket, the other he waved in an expansive manner. “Oh, come on, girly, don't play stupid. The quickest way to bring you to heel was to threaten your old man.”

“So it
was
you. Or at least Whitey, following your orders. Damn it, you could have killed him. What the hell were you thinking?”

Jeremy grabbed her arm and twisted. “Don't you talk to me that way, girl. You walked away and now your father thinks he can do the same? Like hell. I want that opal.”

Gili wrenched her arm out of Jeremy's grip and stepped farther away from him. “My parents' contract was finished. You conned them. And why hurt him? That won't get you any closer to what you want.”

Jeremy giggled. “Oh, yes, it will…and it has. It brought me you.
You'll
go after this
Dreamtime Fire.”

He giggled again and Gili shuddered. The sound, high-pitched and breathy, rasped against her nerves.

“What the heck makes you think I'd work for you again? It would be just as easy to go to the police and report you for what you did to my father.”

He invaded her space, his stale breath wafting across her face. Gili tried to move, but he grasped both arms and shook her, holding her in place.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you. It's amazing how quickly accidents can happen. Why, your poor old mom, grieving that her husband has been hurt, might be distracted and walk into the path of another speeding car. Who knows, this time it could be fatal. Such a sad thing.”

Oh God, not her mother, too
. “You leave my parents alone.”

Despite her bravado, a wave of fear swept through her. Her heart raced. Breathing became difficult. Sweat broke out on her face and she suddenly felt light-headed. It took a major effort to push the panic away and focus on Jeremy. “If I do this, will you promise to leave my folks out of it?”

“I'll rip up their contract the moment you bring me the opal.”

A noise at the entrance to the vault had Gili twisting her head in that direction. Whitey lounged against the doorframe, a folder under one arm. Panic gave her the strength to pull away from Jeremy and turn to face him.

He was tall, with dark hair prematurely receding, giving him a high forehead. Slight build, whipcord-thin, but as Gili knew to her detriment, far stronger than she was.

“Just remember this, Gillian,” he said. “If you don't do what we ask, you'll have to answer to me. Think how much fun we'd have together. Pain is such a great motivator.”

Gili shuddered as the words rolled over her. Her thoughts winged back to when she'd returned from that disastrous dig with Morgan. She'd confronted Jeremy about his theft of the ring, but he'd laughed at her and thrown her out of the office as if he couldn't be bothered with her.

Not so Whitey. He'd collared her in the alleyway at the side of the museum and grabbed her arm, shoving her against the brick wall of the building. Then he'd come after her and slapped her around a bit. Not a lot, but just enough that she believed him when he told her to keep her mouth shut or she'd be sorry.

He'd scared her witless, but it was when he'd pawed at her body, ripped her clothes, and described what he'd do to her, that her blood had turned to ice. If the man from the business next door to the museum hadn't come out to put his garbage in the rubbish bin right at that moment, Gili truly believed Whitey might have lost all control. The memory of that rape scenario and his hands on her body had haunted her dreams for a long time after that.

Jeremy had always been a little unbalanced, but according to Gili's father, he'd become even worse since the ring incident in Iran. The race to acquire rare gems, all with paranormal stories attached to them, now consumed him.

His demeanor had turned manic, his every mood progressively darker. He tailored every joke, comment and action to hurt, and his temper hung on a knife edge; the slightest thing pushing him into a towering rage.

Whitey was different. As greedy and ruthless as his father, there was something else about him. A lack of conscience maybe? No barrier that defined right from wrong and a total lack of emotion when he carried out his nefarious activities.

He made Gili feel sick to her stomach. She could almost smell the evil on him and the feeling that he wasn't above committing murder to get what he wanted grew with each encounter.

Keeping her distance from both men, she gave into the inevitable. At this point, it looked like the only way to keep her parents safe. “Tell me about the stone you want me to track down.”

“Smart girl.” A smirk on his face, Whitey sauntered over to join his father. “The gem is an Australian opal called the
Dreamtime Fire
. It is supposed to be important to the Aboriginal people according to the research I've done, connected somehow with their Dreamtime magic.”

Gili held up a hand. “Hang on, I know very little about the Australian Aboriginal people, let along this Dreamtime you're talking about. If you want me to track it down, you'd better give me more to go on.”

From the corner of her eye, Gili noticed Jeremy playing with the ring she'd just spotted on his left hand.
Holy heck! The seal ring. I knew he had it.

The ring from the tomb on the Iranian Plateau that Morgan Hunt had accused her of stealing six years ago. Her mind wanted to dredge up the memories from that time, but she refused to go there. Instead, she concentrated on what Whitey was telling her.

“These Aboriginal people believe in all types of magic—ghosts, spirits, things that go bump in the night—all types of woo-woo stuff. It's a load of rubbish if you ask me.”

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

A flash of annoyance slid across Whitey's face. “Don't try quoting Shakespeare's
Hamlet
at me, girly. A college degree doesn't make you smarter than me. It's still all bull. Now, where was I?”

He paused as if in deep reflection before continuing. “The Dreamtime stories are supposed to be the truth from the old ancestors, connecting the past and the present. Some type of law for them to live by. As for the magic? Who the hell knows.”

Gili frowned. She wasn't about to discount all things paranormal. She'd grown up with her parents' tales of the supernatural encounters they'd experienced in their quest for the truth about ancient cultures.

“And what's the connection with this particular gem? The
Dreamtime Fire
?”

Whitey walked over and handed her the file. “It's all in there, or as much as I could find. Basically, it's a stupid tale about some ‘Great Creator' appearing as a pelican and showing them how to make fire. Apparently they believe if the opal leaves Australia, the Aboriginal people will lose their fire.”

She snaked a hand over her shoulder to finger the pelican tattooed on her own shoulder. “And you think they're going to give up something woven into the fabric of their lives like that? Are you crazy?”

“Don't you
ever
call me crazy again, you hear?”

She didn't dodge quickly enough and Whitey managed to slap her across the face. Not especially hard, but enough to bring tears to her eyes and make her bite back any smart comments she might utter.

In the background, she heard Jeremy mumbling and hissing beneath his breath. She tuned out Whitey for a moment and concentrated on his father. Jeremy cradled the hand he wore the seal ring on, his thumb stroking across the red stone. Gili frowned. For just a second there, she could have sworn the stone was glowing. She shook her head and focused on Jeremy's words.

“The fire opal. Find it and I will have all the power I want.” He giggled and kissed the ring. “I will be your most faithful servant.
Power. Riches. The most important man in the world.
”

A sense of foreboding filled Gili. This was beyond weird, but something deep in her gut warned her the two were connected. She wet her dry lips with the tip of her tongue and pointed to the ring. “Now, why don't you come clean and tell me exactly what this opal has to do with the ring your father is fondling?”

Whitey pushed his face closer to hers, white teeth flashing as he grinned. “You always were a clever little girl, weren't you? Well, I guess it can't do any harm. How much did you find out about the ring when you were in Iran?”

“How… What… Before or after you stole it?”

He waved the comment aside as if of no importance. “Turns out the mummy was the body of a follower of some obscure ancient god. When he was executed, his spirit entered the ring. If we bring back the fire opal, the spirit will reward us with untold power. Find all four of these elemental stones—fire, earth, wind, water—and we will rule the world.”