Page 49 of Once a Hero

“Seriously?”

Beatrice realized that she had outed herself. All this time, Molyneux had been after Jake and Earl, sending assailants to Northern California after those two men. It was entirely possible that she had no idea that Beatrice and her team had also been following Jake.

Soon, Molyneux would know the secret that had been kept from her for twenty-five years.

And it would be Beatrice’s fault.

However, if Beatrice hadn’t stopped Mr. Dagger here, who knew what he’d have done to Jake?

“She wants to have a cup of tea with Molly,” Mr. Dagger added.

Big Man laughed. “Take me to your leader and all that?”

Beatrice nodded.

Roll with it. All I can do.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Call her.” Beatrice maintained a calm voice. “Let her decide if she wants to see me.”

“No one who sees her lives to tell the story,” Big Man said. “Unless you work for her.”

“We don’t, but my business partners and I have two of the three brooches she’s looking for,” Beatrice replied. “However, if any one of us dies, the secret is lost with us.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“She will.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Was Molyneux trying to soften her up for the kill? It felt that way as Big Man led Beatrice up the stairs and through what turned out to be a log cabin. Two armed men flanked them.

Her hands were tied behind her back, but she was grateful for the opportunity to stretch her legs, although she did not want to leave Jake behind in the basement with Mr. Dagger there.

The afternoon sun shone in through the clearing on the side of the house, casting shadowy lights into the family room and on furniture that looked like it hadn’t moved in years. Mostly leather, the brown and terra-cotta earth tones of the decor shouted male, from the pictures on the wall on one side to the stone fireplace against another wall.

On the stone fireplace were photographs.

Beatrice drew a deep breath. “May I take a look at the photos?”

Big Man grunted.

“Please? Aren’t you the least bit curious why Molly picked this cabin in particular?”

Big Man raised his bushy eyebrows. He motioned for one of his men to take Beatrice to the fireplace. “Let her have her last request.”

There were old photographs of teenagers whom Beatrice did not recognize, but she recognized one photograph.

Philomena without the scar on her face. Sitting on the lap of…

Chisolm Wright.

The air whooshed out of her lungs. She wanted to cry but no tears came.

She reminded herself that it might not be Dad. After all, there were few photographs of Dad, and they were all at least twenty-five years old. Some years before, Benjamin had tried putting Dad’s photographs through an aging software to see how he might look.

Well, he looked like the older man in that photograph.

---