Treasures aka See How She Dies

She slipped into a T-shirt and climbed into the bed. The sheets were crisp and clean, but didn’t have the same country-fresh scent of those that were dried on the line at home. In Belamy. Funny, for years she’d wanted to escape. City lights had beckoned her young heart, but duty had kept her tied to the only town she’d ever called home. Not that it mattered, but the harsh Montana grassland didn’t seem so loathsome anymore, and for the first time in years she thought of her hometown and felt the pull of her heartstrings.

But she wasn’t running back to the safety and boredom of Belamy. Not when she’d come so far. When the going gets tough, the tough get going, she reminded herself as she plumped a pillow.

Closing her eyes, she heard the hum of traffic, an occasional shout and, every so often, the distant cry of sirens. She wondered where Zachary was, and then, irritated that she’d allowed him into her mind, she rolled over and tried to force him from her thoughts. What did she care about him, anyway? She was too smart to get involved with him. Even if he might not be her half-brother, even if he hadn’t been somehow involved with her mother, even if his last name wasn’t Danvers, he wasn’t the kind of man she could trust, let alone fall for.

Fall for? As in “fall in love?”

No way-nohow. He was just forbidden fruit, that was all. Seductive because he was taboo. Erotic because he was so wrong for her, so very wrong.

And yet, there he was-his image teasing her mind. She imagined his crooked, irreverent smile flashing against his rock-hard jaw, remembered how it felt to have his lips pressed hard and wanting against hers, could envision the play of light in his gray eyes, or remember the feel of his hands against her skin.

For God’s sake, stop it!

Forget him. He’s not someone to be attracted to! He’s the enemy! Just like the rest of his family! Think, Adria. Use your brain and be smart.

Somewhere down the hallway she heard the ding of the elevator and the rattle of a service cart. The heater rumbled as she drifted off to sleep fitfully. She dreamed-erotic, pulse-pounding fantasies of sweat-slickened bodies, wildly beating hearts, lips that caressed the most intimate of spots and fingers that whispered over fevered flesh. In her mind’s eye, she saw him hovering above her, his naked skin gleaming gold in the light of a dying fire, his hair wet with sweat and his eyes dark with a deep secret.

She wanted him so badly, and yet, there was something more, someone else in the room with them, a faceless presence, menacing and dark, lurking in the shadows.

There was a rustle and quick footsteps.

“Who’s there?” she cried, her gaze searching the murky corners, her heart pounding in fear. She looked back for Zachary, but he was gone and she was alone. “Zach!” But her voice only echoed back at her, bouncing off unseen walls.

Again the rustling and her skin prickled in dread. “Zach! Where are you?” She got up and started running, her legs heavy, her body naked. She was in an alley, fog surrounding her, something chasing her, footsteps pounding along the wet pavement.

“Zach!” she yelled, desperate, certain she could feel the breath of her attacker. “Help!” She ran. Faster, her bare feet slapping the uneven asphalt. Oh, God, where was he? If only she could duck around the next corner-

Too late! Whoever was after her was closing in. She could hear his breathing, feel him closing in. A hand reached out and touched the back of her neck…

Adria’s eyes flew open. It was dark. Her heart was jack-hammering, her body drenched in sweat. For a second she didn’t know where she was and then she remembered…the Orion…safe…the door firmly locked.

Then why did she still feel unnerved, her breathing shallow, her teeth on edge? It was a dream. Just a dream. No big deal. She let out her breath slowly and climbed to her feet. She’d go into the bathroom and get a glass of water and…

She saw it then. A slim envelope slipped under the door.

Probably just the bill, she told herself, but knew better.

Every nerve strung tight, she crossed the carpet and picked up the envelope. It was blank. Sealed. Carefully she slid a nail under the flap.

Inside was a simple note: You have a package at the front desk.

“What?” She opened the door but the hallway was empty. Something felt wrong about this. Very wrong. Don’t jump to conclusions. Crossing to a small table near the bed, she punched the number on the telephone for the front desk.

“This is Adria Nash,” she said when a female voice answered. She gave her room number and asked, “Do I have a package?”

“Let me check.” There was a click and a few minutes of nondescript music before the woman returned. “Yes, Ms. Nash, you do have a package. I’ll send it up.”

“Wait a minute. Do you know who sent it to me?”

“No-I’m sorry. It was in the business office. Probably came by courier. I’ll check the log and get back to you.”

“Thanks.” Adria hung up and within two minutes a bellman was standing on the other side of the door and handing her a thick, padded manila envelope with her name written in block letters. She tipped the man and before she could open the bulky package, the phone rang.

“Ms. Nash, this is Ellie at the front desk. I don’t know how to explain it, but there is no record of anything coming in for you. Maybe someone forgot, but usually the staff is on top of this kind of thing and keeps a precise record of when the delivery was made and by whom.”

Adria stared down at the bulky envelope in her hand and she felt her insides curdle. Whatever was inside was soft. “The hotel apologizes and I hope this doesn’t inconvenience you.”

“No…it’s all right,” Adria said, though she sensed, feeling the awkward package, that it was anything but okay. “If I have any more questions, I’ll come down.”

“Thank you,” Ellie said as Adria hung up.

Don’t open it. What if it’s a bomb?

That was ridiculous. A bomb? No way. And yet…should she call the police?

“Oh, for God’s sake, you’re letting your imagination run away with you.” Angry with herself, she found a nail file and ripped open the package. Nothing exploded. Nothing jumped out at her. But as she peeked inside, her heart froze.

There, zipped inside a plastic bag, was a dead rat, one beady eye visible through the sheer covering. Adria dropped the package as if it were red-hot. “Oh God, oh, God, oh, God,” she whispered, a hand clamping over her mouth.

Who would do such a thing?

Bile burned in the back of her throat.

Was it a warning?

Or just a chance for some pervert to get his rocks off by trying to scare her?

“Mission accomplished,” she said, calming a little. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed a tissue from the bedside table, and kneeling, gently pulled the plastic-enshrouded rodent from its manila coffin.

There was a note inside, a message from the pervert who’d left this for her. With shaking fingers she withdrew the single piece of paper that read: BACK OFF BITCH!

“Oh, God,” she whispered. Through the plastic, she noticed something sparkling, catching in the light, and she nearly threw up when she recognized the chain and locket wound around the dead rat’s neck and body.

The fragile piece of jewelry her father had given her was sealed tight with the furry little body.

“Bastard,” she said, gagging.

To retrieve the necklace, she’d have to unwrap the dead animal and wash the chain and…

Don’t touch it! Don’t touch a thing! You have to go to the police! You have to tell them what’s going on. They can fingerprint everything and check for clues. Otherwise, whoever is behind this will continue to terrorize you-or worse.

Letting out her breath, she straightened, leaving the package where she’d dropped it on the floor. She opened a window and let in the fresh air.

Think, Adria, think. Scraping her hair away from her face with tense fingers, she