Page 3 of Evidence of Secrets

He furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin as he picked up the papers to read.

A yellowed letter from the early 1920s addressed to, hmmm, Ryan couldn’t read the name. It described a cache of bearer bonds and cash in a speakeasy in Black Pointe. All left over from the old rum-running days.

Why had his father saved this? Was the building even around? If it were, and if the cash and bonds had never been recovered, they would be worth in the millions of dollars and be untraceable in today’s market. Ryan’s pulse quickened as he thought about all that money.

Ryan turned on his computer and searched the city records for the address.

Yes! It had seen several owners and converted into different companies, but it was still standing. The assessment card showed an upscale bistro, Salt & Sea, was in the location now. The owner was Laura Clark.

Ryan searched social media for the restaurant and owner. Lots of interior shots of the bistro came up, including several pictures of a gorgeous, tall beauty with chestnut-brown hair and brown eyes. Laura Clark appeared in the kitchen in her chef’s uniform, in the dining room with regular clothes, shopping at the farmers’ market, and holding some yummy-looking food. Social media was a wonderful thing.

Ryan’s heart did a little jig. Was it possible they had never discovered the secret room after all these years? Those old-timers were pretty clever at hiding doors and rooms way back then.

The money his dad made for the mob went to Mickey “Mouse” Lucas, who ran the family. Not that anyone called Mickey “Mouse” to his face. Mickey preferred the nickname “Fingers.” He enjoyed breaking them.

Ryan had a good amount of money saved, but a windfall like this would allow him to go anywhere in the world.

Do anything he wanted.

Get out from under the mob’s control because once you or your family were in it, you never could leave—alive.

Finding the treasure would make him a free man and a powerful one. If, and only if, he stayed under the mob’s radar. If they found him or knew he’d taken off with a boatload of cash, fingers wouldn’t be the only thing broken on his body.

Was Laura married? He’d ask around. If not, there was no downside in pursuing her and getting information. If she was married, the same principle applied. In his experience, married women liked attention too. And if nothing else, Ryan was very attentive.

Ryan finished going through the papers and put them back into a secret safe his father had installed into the floor under the handmade 19th-century Feraghan rug. Another gift from a customer who valued his life more than the antique rug.

In time, he would move the information and cash to a safe deposit box. It was not information anyone else needed to read.

Ryan walked over to the built-in bar, grabbed a cut crystal glass and poured himself a healthy slug of his father’s favorite single malt scotch, Springbank 21. At a price of over $2800 a bottle, Ryan could afford as many bottles as he wished if he found the cash and bonds. He brought it to the sofa, sat, and swirled the liquid nectar in the glass. Sniffed. Exhaled. Sniffed again—the scent of money smelled sweet. The unique scent of fruits and peat tickled his nose. Its rich, creamy texture caressed his palate. Life was good.

However, before Ryan could get to Black Pointe, Florida, locate Salt & Sea, pursue Laura Clark, and/or convince her to sell him the bistro, then find the hidden panel and the cash, he had a few loose ends he needed to address here in Atlanta.

Then it would be time to get busy.

Later today, he’d make a call to the lawyers in Black Pointe that his father trusted and used and ask them to get more information on the bistro and Laura’s situation. He already had a sense of the bistro’s value from the town assessor’s office. By having the lawyer query Laura, he’d get a sense on how receptive Laura was to sell without exposing himself. If she accepted the offer, he’d come forward. But he needed to be careful and not have his name on any documents. He could hide behind an LLC. People did it all the time when they didn’t want their names mentioned. The last thing Ryan wanted was to have the mob find out about the bistro and get control of it. They were always looking for places to launder money.

There was plenty of money available in his account so paying Laura wouldn’t be a problem.

If Laura didn’t take the offer, then he had a woman to potentially woo and a fortune to find. And hopefully disappear before anyone in the mob got wind of what he was doing.

CHAPTERTHREE

Asound like a gunshot caused Laura Clark to stumble and scream.

She spun around to see what had happened. The metal door leading to the bistro’s kitchen was closed tight and standing innocently on its hinges. Laura realized the gusty wind had slammed it shut.

Her heart thumped in her chest. Damn wind.It didn’t matter that she was already on edge.

It was one hour past dawn and way past time for Laura to prepare the day’s menu, complete the prep work for the lunch and dinner menus and get to the farmers’ market in time to choose the freshest vegetables and fruits needed for the day. A treat she gave herself once a week. She’d hoped to sleep in a little later this morning and was still yawning when the banging door rudely awoke her.

Rich Dupont, the pastry chef, had called in sick—again. That meant Laura had to do his work and her own as owner of the Salt & Sea bistro.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done all these jobs when she first started. But ten years later? Laura had hoped that the restaurant would run more smoothly by now. And it had until six months ago.

The problems started with a crank call to the health department about food poisoning and then someone keying several cars in the bistro’s parking lot. It cost her money that she didn’t have, and she had to make up the difference that the insurance company didn’t pay. Then her premiums went up.

KnightGuard Security installed additional cameras around the parking lot. Even though her best friend, Sam Knight, owned the company and only charged her for the cameras, they still cut into her profits.

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