No.
He wasnotgoing to lose his dinner.
Swallowing past the bile that rose in this throat, he forced himself to clean the cut as best he could without upchucking. It wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t going to heal overnight, either.
Once he’d washed the abrasion, he threw the blood-stained cloth into the tub, slapped on a bandage he found in the medicine cabinet, and left the bathroom.
He ought to try and get some sleep. It was three in the morning, after all. Far later than he’d planned to be up. But returning to the house before the sheriff was gone would have been risky. Even when he’d finally snuck back, staying in the shadows, he’d been on full alert in case the man was hiding somewhere, like he’d been earlier.
He’d made it back undetected, though.
What he needed now was rest, to clear his head.
But before he slept, he had to come up with a credible explanation for the cut on his forehead.
He began to pace.
Planning his next moves was also critical. Like how to ramp up his efforts to get Natalie to leave and let him deal with the property. If she and the professor were gone, he’d have free rein of the place. He could stop worrying about someone finding out what he was up to, and he could search the cave during the day instead of into the wee hours of the night.
After the hellacious day he’d had dealing with creditors, a change like that couldn’t come soon enough. Because the more hours he could devote to the search, the faster he’d find the treasure and put an end to his desperate financial straits.
But he could work on those plans tomorrow. Coming up with an explanation for the cut was more—
The hum of running water echoed in the house, and he froze.
Natalie must have gotten up to use the bathroom.
He strode over to the lamp on the nightstand and turned it off. She didn’t tend to wander about at night, but if she did leave her room, she might notice the light shining under his door.
And he didn’t want to have to come up with an excuse for that too.
As he waited in the darkness for silence to once again descend, an explanation for the cut began to form in his mind.
Yeah. That would work.
Doing what was necessary to give it credibility wouldn’t help his queasy stomach, and he’d also have to time it well, but both were manageable.
The house grew quiet again, and Steven crossed to the bed. Shed his outerwear. Set his alarm.
It would be a short night, but he’d sleep in on Saturday.
Stretching out on the bed, he stared at the ceiling.
Of course the sheriff would tell Natalie what had happened tonight. First thing in the morning, if his take on the man was correct. And he’d no doubt try again to convince her to install security cameras. After listening to the man’s story, it was possible she’d agree.
That shouldn’t be a problem, however, as long as he knew where they were.
And he’d see that he did.
Filling his lungs, he forced his muscles to relax. To focus on the positive side of tonight’s events.
Now that the sheriff had proof there was danger lurking here, it might be easier to convince Natalie to move to St. Louis and let him sell the place for her.
He smiled.
Who knew? Maybe tonight would end up working in his favor.
Because once she vacated the premises, and once the sheriff gave up his efforts to pin Micah’s death on anything other than an accident, he should be home free.
