Had they not known exactly where to look, finding the entrance to the mine shaft would have been difficult. The area had been reclaimed by nature over a near century of unuse, much like the Paxton entrance near Kate’s place. Fresh tracks coming in from the southwest, however, confirmed that someone had been out there recently.
“Couple days at most,” Doc said quietly, squatting down to get a closer look. “There must be an access road nearby.”
After taking a few moments to ensure they were alone, they proceeded to check the entrance. Beneath the heavy growth of ivy and vines, some of the ancient planks boarding up the opening had been removed.
They didn’t have to go far to find what they were looking for. At least a dozen crates were stacked against the shored-up wall just inside the entrance.
“The sheer arrogance is mind-boggling,” Doc said, shaking his head as he took pictures. “It’s like they’re not even trying to hide this stuff.”
“That overconfidence is what got them into this mess.” Cage got to work, setting up tiny motion-sensitive cameras at strategic locations. “And it’s going to be their downfall. The good news is, since this is privately owned property and I’m the legal owner, anything we record here can be used against them.”
“Do you really think there’s a mole?” Doc asked.
“Not a clue. But the Callaghans hinted there might be, and that’s good enough for me.”
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’m glad they’re on our side.”
It took most of the night to set up and properly camouflage surveillance inside and outside the entrance. They returned to Sanctuary just as the first pale shades of dawn appeared on the horizon.
The scent of Sam’s freshly brewed coffee permeated the dining area. Smoke’s alert gaze was on the doorway as they came through it. He sat at the table closest to the kitchen, out of the way but still within sight of Sam.
Recognizing Cage and Doc, Smoke’s eyes swung toward the kitchen, where Sam was busy preparing breakfast, verifying she was safe and secure. The whole process took less than a second, and it was one he would repeat often—his need to protect and care for his woman as natural as breathing.
Cage felt a small but sharp pang of envy, knowing that kind of bond was not in the cards for him. Even if Bree accepted him and the truth about his past, she was leaving for California in less than twenty-four hours, and chances were, after this morning, he’d never see her again.
“How’d it go?” Smoke asked, laying down his tablet and sweeping another glance toward the kitchen.
“Good. Mr. O’Farrell was right about everything. Nearly a hundred years old, and his memory is better than mine,” Doc answered.
“For anything pre-1970,” Sam said, bringing out a carafe of coffee and two extra mugs. “Just don’t ask him about anything that happened in the last decade.”
As a local, Sam was familiar with Kate’s old neighbor. The man loved having company and telling stories about the “old days” to anyone who would listen. Even though Kate had been relieved of her Meals on Wheels delivery duties, she continued to drive down at least once a week to bring him one of her homemade dishes and spend some time chatting. More often than not, Doc went along, fascinated by his tales of local mining history. Not to mention, the old guy was an ally of sorts. He didn’t like the new Sumneyville leadership and wasn’t shy about saying so.
Doc chuckled. “True enough. But to be fair, I’ll probably remember my first fifty years most vividly, too.”
“Freed’s definitely using the place for storage,” Cage told Smoke. “We managed to get everything up and online. If anything goes in or out, we’ll know about it in HD.”
“Is that your homemade peach muffins I smell?” Doc asked hopefully, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“Sure is,” Sam answered with a smile. “I picked up a bushel at Obermacher’s this weekend. They should be just about done.”
“Can I get one to go, Sam?” Cage asked.
“Of course. I’ll wrap some up for you.”
“Great, thanks.”
As Sam went back into the kitchen, Doc turned to him. “Not like you to miss breakfast, especially when Sam makes muffins. What gives? The reporter?”
Cage nodded. “I’m meeting her for breakfast later.” It was still too early to call, so his immediate plans involved a shower, shave, and an hour or two of sleep.
“I thought she was leaving.”
“She is but not until later tonight.”
“Good luck, man.”
“Thanks.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Bree
The grandfather clock on the landing tolled the passing of yet another hour, and Bree had yet to sleep. Not only were Lenny’s accusations still floating around the back of her mind, but now, the knowledge that Nick was basically everything she’d tried to get away from was rolling around back there, too.
She spent most of the night going through the research Toni had compiled. Despite what Toni had said about not having much, she’d created a document summarizing the basic facts on each of the Sanctuary partners.
Since Bree was already vaguely familiar with Matthew Winston’s family history, she started by skimming over his files. The son of a wealthy but philanthropic family, he’d gone into the Navy shortly after his high school graduation, following the tradition of his father, grandfather, and beyond.
Cole Watson had been a Navy SEAL combat medic. According to Toni’s research, Watson had entered the Navy Hospital Corps upon enlistment to receive formal medical training. Then, after going through the SEAL training, he’d completed the Special Operations Combat Medic course.
Steve Tannen was a demolitions expert who’d spent twelve years in the service before ending his military career after a cave-in. Like Winston, he’d followed in his father’s footsteps. Steve Senior had been in one of the first graduating classes of SEALs back in the ’60s.
Hugh Bradley’s history was slightly more interesting. He’d grown up in the Louisiana bayou, and after his father was murdered in a barroom knife fight, he’d had a few
