Her stepmother must have read Mary’s mind because she zeroed in on the footlocker as if that was exactly what she’d been searching for.
“Uh, Nick,” Mary whispered, tapping lightly on his shoulder.
“What?” he answered without pulling his gaze off Jasmine.
“Did you put the lock back on the footlocker?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have the key?”
“In my pocket.”
Mary let out a sigh.
“Why?”
“I think my penlight is in that footlocker and still shining.”
Nick looked up at her in the shadows. “Let’s hope she’s not smart enough to figure out how to get into that lock.”
“Yeah.”
Jasmine squatted next to the footlocker and tugged at the lock. When it didn’t open, she straightened and looked around the basement. As if spotting what she was looking for, she moved across to the workbench Mary’s father kept his tools on and lifted a large tool off a nail on the wall.
“It’s time to leave,” Nick said.
“Why?”
“She’s got a pair of bolt cutters. When she finds that light on in there, she’s bound to call the police.”
Chapter 11
Nick let the picture frame door close, plunging the cubby into complete darkness.
“How are we supposed to see without turning on the light?” Mary’s whisper was like a disembodied voice.
“Hang on.” Nick switched the flashlight to the red setting, giving them enough light to navigate, but not enough to give away their location. “Let’s get out of here.”
“It’s handy having an agent around with nifty gadgets.” Mary picked her way across the cubby and into the tunnel. Free to move without knocking into anything, she sprinted to the end.
Nick followed, impressed by her light-footedness and ability to recognize when not to argue.
When they came to the closet at the other end, Mary waited for Nick. “You go first. I’ll shut the door.”
Nick edged around her, his body bumping against hers in more places than one, reminding him of the kiss in the cubby. How had this woman gotten beneath his skin in so short a time? He sucked in a breath, the scent of her hair making him hot in the cool tunnel.
Not good. Not good at all.
He was transient, a secret agent destined to leave when he found her father. He had nothing to offer the beauty from North Pole, Alaska. A woman who still believed in Santa and happy families. Mary deserved a husband like her father, full of goodness and optimism. Not someone like Nick who’d seen the worst in people, poisoned by life in the foster care system. If he ever had kids, he’d want them to be happy, with a mother like Mary and a grandfather like?—
“Are you going through or what?” Mary’s voice shook him out of his daydream. He’d stopped halfway through the narrow space, blocking her way out. With a mental shake, he slipped through and shone the red light for her to see by.
Mary hurried through the tight space, her breasts skimming the water tank.
Next thing Nick knew, he’d find himself jealous of a stupid hot water heater.
While Mary grabbed for her coat, Nick shrugged into his jacket and stood outside the closet, shining his light in until she was jacketed and ready. “We might only have a few minutes to get out of here and back to the B and B before she sounds the alarm—assuming she sounds the alarm.” Nick closed the closet door.
