RUNNING OUT OF TIME
Reeling from the news of her late mother’s secret life in the Mafia, Gabriella Radcliffe has twenty-four hours to return incriminating evidence her mother stole from them. If she fails, her newfound “family” will kill her aunt—but Gabriella has no idea what the evidence is or where to find it. When her old friend Luke McGuire stumbles on a rogue Mafia member threatening Gabriella, he’s shot as they flee from the thug. Now with the clock ticking, Gabriella and Luke are trapped inside her family ranch, following her mother’s clues to the items that can free them. But as they fight to save Gabriella’s only surviving family member, somebody else wants to find the evidence first…and he’s willing to kill for it.
“Did someone hurt you?”
Gabriella looked forward and focused on the trees swaying in the breeze, but it only served to remind her of the ticking clock. Twenty-four hours left until they killed her great-aunt, and she had no idea where to begin.
Who could she call? The police? The FBI? Absolutely not.
She moved to get out of the car. Luke stood to make room for her. He held out a hand to help her.
Normally, she’d wave it away, but as heavy as her bones felt she accepted. The strength in his grip as he gently pulled her to standing bolstered her determination. She would not let those men hurt her great-aunt Freddie—the woman had been like a second mother to her.
“Luke, it’s not a good time to look at the property, after all. I’ll call you to reschedule?”
Luke didn’t flinch, and his hand didn’t move from her wrist. “This isn’t business. I’m here as a friend. My receptionist said you were arguing with that man before you left, and the black sedan followed you. What happened?”
HEATHER WOODHAVEN earned her pilot’s license, rode a hot air balloon over the safari lands of Kenya, parasailed over Caribbean seas, lived through an accidental detour onto a black diamond ski trail in Aspen and snorkeled among stingrays before becoming a mother of three and wife of one. She channels her love for adventure into writing characters who find themselves in extraordinary circumstances.
Code of Silence
Heather Woodhaven
Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
—Philippians 4:8
To my husband, my critique group and to my editor, Emily Rodmell. Thank you for not being silent with your encouragement and ideas. You make these stories shine. And chocolate, you deserve some credit, too.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Introduction
About the Author
Title Page
Bible Verse
Dedication
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
DEAR READER
Extract
Copyright
ONE
The shadow of a car darkened the patch of asphalt in front of her. Gabriella’s neck tingled, and she held her breath. Everywhere she went, a black sedan crossed her path, as if following her.
Grief continued playing tricks on her mind.
The first few times she’d spotted the boxy-shaped vehicle, she’d thought she’d seen a hearse. She blinked. The car didn’t so much as slow down as it passed by the parking lot and turned the corner, proving her thoughts to be ludicrous once again. No car—and definitely no hearse—was following her.
Gabriella pressed the papers she’d gathered against her chest and locked her car door. Instead of enjoying her summer break from teaching math at a junior high school, she needed to implore Luke McGuire for help. His voice had sounded as kind and smooth as ever on the phone when she’d scheduled the appointment, but she hadn’t seen him since college, when their fiancés dumped both of them for each other. And a lot could change in eight years.
Gabriella ran her left palm against the side of her head in case any errant hairs had escaped the barrette. As she approached the glass doors, she hoped the maroon peasant blouse, tan capris and navy flats looked professional enough for a visit to the real estate development office. She pulled the handle.
Luke McGuire stood in the lobby, addressing his receptionist. He wore a gray suit, white shirt and an azure tie that matched his blue eyes. She froze as they both turned toward her.
Luke’s face fell. “Gabriella.”
She let the door close behind her, and the air-conditioning sent an involuntary shiver up her spine. His expression confirmed her suspicions—seeing her just reminded him of the pain they’d experienced.
He held out a hand, and as she reached for it, she glanced at the hand by his side—no ring. Maybe he still hadn’t gotten over his fiancée?
His brows furrowed. “I’m sorry to hear about your mom. I think I met her and your aunt once, at a parents’ weekend. I remember because you two almost looked like—”
“Twins,” she finished for him. Each time she looked in the mirror, the reminder of her loss hit her in the gut. Her throat fought against letting her words out. “She and my great-aunt came to every single one of those.”
Luke turned and waved a hand toward the back. “Why don’t we talk in my office?” He shortened his stride until she caught up. “Congratulations on the nonprofit, by the way. I saw you on the news last week when they announced their charity of the month.”
Her shoulders relaxed at the change of subject, and she couldn’t help but smile that Luke knew about the foundation she’d set up a few years back to help tutor struggling kids. “Oh. The grant took me by surprise. I didn’t know anything about it until we showed up on the news.”
She scrunched her nose. “I think they pulled my picture from the school staff website.” Gabriella stiffened. What if Luke thought she was fishing for compliments? She rushed on. “Financially it’s not a big grant, but the national media exposure is priceless. I’d be ecstatic, but—”
He nodded. “Of course. You’re going through a lot right now.”
Framed pictures of subdivision developments filled with cookie-cutter houses hung on the office walls. Her chest ached. Could she really go through with this?
As soon as he sat in his chair, she splayed the papers she’d brought with her across his desk. “I know you agreed to meet with me as a courtesy, but I really think the land has potential for one of the subdivisions you keep making.” She hated the tremble in her voice but worried if she stopped she’d break down. “I brought a copy of the property map and printed out the county assessment of—”
“I’m sorry, Gabriella. I actually have all that information already. I gathered it after you called.” Luke clasped his hands together. “I know it’s getting late, but if you have time, I need a look at the property in person before we can discuss potential scenarios. I could follow you out there now.”
“Wow. That’s fast. It’s good. It’s what I need. Just fast.” She nodded and continued nodding, processing his words. “I have time to show you around right now.”
Luke clapped his hands together and jumped from his chair. “Perfect. I just need a moment to gather my camera and some paperwork. I’ll be right behind you.”
Gabriella took the cue and headed straight for the door. Her embarrassment at babbling coupled with his kindness would be her undoing. Her eyes burned with held-back tears. The moment she opened the door, heat slapped her in the face.
She squinted against the intense sunshine as a black sedan drove past the office. Was that really a different one than she’d seen moments before? Was she going insane? It, too, had darkened windows.
If it’d been a Subaru Outback, she would’ve had an easier time believing the coincidence. Many Idaho residents depended on the all-wheel drive, practically a requirement to living in Idaho. But a black sedan? She had no proof it was following her, though. The next time she spotted it, she’d make an effort to get its license plate number so she’d know for sure.
A man in a silver suit and navy dress shirt rounded the corner of the office building, smiling. She grinned in response, slightly amused at his greased-back hair. She’d only seen hair like that on New York models and wondered if he worked as a partner or employee for Luke. She stepped off the sidewalk and clicked the fob to unlock her car as the man passed.
She opened the car door. As it swung open, the man stepped next to her passenger door and wrenched it open. She clutched her purse. “Excuse me. What are you—”
He pulled his suit jacket back, revealing a gun holstered to his side. “Get in, Gabriella.”
Gabriella’s heart slammed into overdrive, and yet, she couldn’t move. What did they say about people with guns? Never get in the car? Or, get in the car but drive into a building? She couldn’t blink. Her vision focused on the gun. And how did he know her name?
“Don’t be stupid. Look behind you.”
Gabriella moved her chin ever so slightly. There was no way she was turning her back to the gunman. She peeked over her shoulder. The source of her insanity—the black sedan—pulled into the parking lot.
“Now see? It’s not just me. And the guys in there aren’t as nice.” He stared at her with such intensity that she had to look away. “You wouldn’t want other people getting hurt, would you?” he asked. “Not when you could be saving your great-aunt.”
Despite the heat, everything turned cold. Gabriella’s skin chilled. “What about her?”
Another man in a suit stepped out of the back of the black sedan and approached. He smiled, a grin that made her skin crawl. He nodded at the other man and opened the rear door of her car. “If I were you, I’d do everything he tells you. I’m not as patient.”
“What’d I tell you?” the first gunman said. The men both laughed, sharing their own sick joke.
Gabriella’s stomach twisted. She should’ve followed her great-aunt’s advice and carried a gun or a brick in her purse. Even if she had, though, it’d be no match for the two men. And if they were telling the truth about Aunt Freddie being in danger, she couldn’t risk it.
The second man loosened his suit jacket, and she spotted his gun, as well. She tightened her fists. “Is my aunt in that sedan? What’d you do with her?”
The man across from her turned and looked toward Luke’s office. The sun bounced off the windows, so she couldn’t see inside. Please let Luke see something is wrong.
“Do you want to see her alive again?” the first gunman asked, his voice thick with a familiar accent she couldn’t place.
She opened her mouth, her breath so ragged she wasn’t sure she could answer if she tried. Aunt Freddie was her only living relative. It’d been hard enough to put her in assisted living last week—so hard Gabriella spent the past few nights sleeping on the couch at her new villa so Aunt Freddie wouldn’t be lonely.
I can’t lose her, too. Her gut dropped. The sedan following her the past few days...had she led them right to her aunt?
He smirked. “Get in and drive.”
* * *
Luke hit the side of the printer, frustrated after two jams and irritated the temporary receptionist hadn’t already finished the job. He didn’t begrudge Deb her maternity leave, but he also selfishly prayed she didn’t change her mind about coming back in six weeks. His sanity depended on it.
The motor whirred as the printer finally spit out his prize. He grabbed the paper, shoved it haphazardly into the leather satchel and strode for the door.
He hated keeping Gabriella waiting, especially since he had suggested the last-minute property tour. And since it was almost five o’clock already, he harbored hope she’d agree to have dinner afterward to catch up.
His mind replayed seeing her walk through his office door. She radiated a mixture of gentleness and beauty. And it made him angry with himself that he hadn’t kept in touch. He’d meant to.
When he first settled on the Treasure Valley to start his business, his parents had challenged his sanity. But the economy was booming, and it turned out to be a smart move financially. If he was honest with himself, in the back of his mind he’d assumed Gabriella would’ve settled in the area, too. Instead, she accepted a job in a small town in Eastern Oregon but spent summers in the valley. He knew she stayed with her family and worked with her foundation director anytime she had a break from teaching. Yet he’d never reached out, though he’d meant to before now.
Even now his heart sped up at the thought of her, but he knew why he procrastinated. He’d put himself out there once before—albeit almost a decade ago—and been burned. He wanted to diminish the risk of repeating the scenario.
Gabriella had seemed pleased about the grant and the media exposure. So pleased, he’d been tempted to let her know he owned the responsibility for making it happen. But he took the Bible passage seriously that exhorted believers to give in secret.
Luke turned to the receptionist. “As soon as you’re done with that file, you’re free to go. You’ll be paid for the full day. The door is set to lock behind you.” He pressed the glass door open as he threw on his designer shades, a smile plastering his face. He loved summer. He stepped out to an empty parking lot.
He always parked behind the office building along with his employees. The spaces in front were reserved for clients. He grabbed the glass door before it fully closed. “Karen?”
“Yes?”
“Did you see where my client went?”
“Oh. Yeah.” She picked at a piece of fuzz attached to her blouse. “She argued with some guy for a second, but then when she saw her friends coming, too, they like must have worked it out, ’cause they drove off together.”
Luke rubbed the throbbing spot above his brow. “Her friends?” It didn’t make sense. Gabriella was too considerate not to let him know she’d changed her plans. At least the girl he once knew would’ve been. Maybe she’d changed.
“Yeah, well I think so,” Karen muttered. “Two of them got in her car and the others followed them when they left.”
Luke’s shoulders sagged. An impromptu reunion? He shook his head. It didn’t add up. “Did she say anything when she left? Did she look upset?”
Karen lifted an eyebrow. “Well, yeah. Didn’t you say her mom just died?”
Luke blew out a long breath. He spun on his heel and headed for his truck. Maybe Gabriella had changed her mind about putting the property up for sale, but if that proved to be the case, he still wanted to show her how serious he was about being her friend. And who was the guy she argued and left with? The back of his neck tensed.
People changed over the years, sure, but Gabriella’s thoughtful nature defined her. Driving off without telling anyone didn’t ring true.
He entered Gabriella’s phone number and started his full-size Dodge Ram while it rang.
Four rings later it transferred to voice mail. Luke frowned. Something didn’t sit well. He didn’t want to be overly pushy, but he had also let Gabriella go once instead of being a true friend. He refused to make the same mistake twice. He shifted the truck into Drive and headed for Radcliffe Ranch.
TWO
Gabriella squeezed the steering wheel, but it didn’t tame the tremors. Her entire body shook at the sight of Aunt Freddie on the tablet.
The video showed her aunt asleep, wearing a quilted blue robe, in a strange recliner with another suited gunman sitting next to her. “What’d you do to her? Where’d you take her?”
“Keep your eyes on the road.” The man in her passenger seat clicked the tablet off. “She’s been given a strong sedative. Doesn’t even know that she went on a little field trip. And as long as you comply, she will be safe.”
One lone car drove past her. She stared out the window, her eyes wide, hoping the driver would somehow see something was wrong. She didn’t dare swerve, though, not with a madman watching her aunt sleep. “Who are you?”
The man grinned, sending shudders up her spine. “Benito.” He shrugged. “Of the Mirabella family.”
The way he said it...wasn’t that how people referred to the mafia? A crime family?
“We’re actually relatives,” he said. “I’m your mother’s second cousin.”
“Me, too, twice removed.” The man in the back chuckled. He sat in the middle, so that any time Gabriella looked in the rearview mirror she spotted his dark eyes, hard and void of compassion. She didn’t want to know his name. If she did, it would surely haunt her dreams.
Gabriella forced herself to breathe. Her mother’s cousins? It couldn’t be possible. Her mom had no living relatives.
“You look just like Renata, by the way.”
She turned to him, her mouth wide open. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake. She just needed to get them to see it. “You have the wrong person. I don’t know a Renata. And my aunt struggles with dementia so she’s no threat to you.” She turned her clicker on and steered toward the side of the road. She’d let them out, promise to never tell a soul. Maybe they’d leave her and her great-aunt alone. Please, Lord.
“Nice try,” the man named Benito said. “Stay straight, Gabriella. Your mother knew how to keep a secret. Impressive she kept it from her own daughter. Samantha was not your mother’s real name, just like Frederica is not your great-aunt’s name.”
She clenched her jaw. Every muscle tightened as she pressed on the gas and regained speed. “If you actually knew them, you’d know they never let anyone address them like that.”
“Ah, that’s right. Only Sam and Freddie.” He shook his head. “Very clever to use masculine names. If you hadn’t made national news, we’d likely never have found you.” He clucked his tongue in an annoying rhythm. “This ranch of yours is really in the middle of nowhere, isn’t it? Believe it or not, I’m sorry to hear your mother passed. Her real name was Renata Mirabella. Your great-aunt is Amalia Mirabella.”
Her stomach lurched. It had to be a lie and a dirty trick to make such accusations when her mother wasn’t alive to defend herself. Her eyes burned, and her throat hurt to swallow. “What do you want?”
“Your mother made herself very useful to the family back in the day. She grew up helping out. She was your grandpa and great-uncle’s favorite.”
The man in back scoffed. “Shows how poor their judgment was.”
Benito ignored him. “Eventually your mom handled the bookkeeping and served as a messenger between the bosses. Even snuggled up to the right people to help with some scores. After her father died, she disappeared, taking Uncle Claudio’s wife—your aunt—with her. But she left a note. Said she had enough evidence to send most of the family to the chair. Upon her death, it would be delivered to the FBI. So we didn’t chase her, on your great-uncle Claudio’s orders.”
Gabriella’s foot slipped off the gas. Her mom had worked for the mob? No. Not possible. She shook her head. “I don’t understand what it is you want from me.”
“It’s very simple. Get us the evidence, and we let you and your aunt go without consequence, out of respect for the family.” He sighed. “I had a great fondness for your mother.”
She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision as she turned down the long road that led to the ranch. She could see the wrought iron gates in front of the man-made lake. “You had a fondness for her? That’s why you’re holding her aunt hostage.” The sarcasm kept her from leaping out of her seat and punching Benito in his smug face.
“I understand your mother didn’t teach you the family business,” he answered, his voice steady, “but affection only goes so far. If a relative turns on us, we turn on them. We do what it takes to protect the family.” His chin jutted out. “Drive inside,” he said.
Her shaky finger moved to the clicker. Her sanctuary, her safe place—she didn’t want to let these crazy people in. The gate swung open as she turned in to the driveway. “But you don’t understand. Even if you don’t believe me that my mom never ran with the mafia, I’m telling you she didn’t leave behind anything but this property. No evidence, no money...nothing! You could search the house and—”
“We already did,” the gruff voice behind interrupted.
She inhaled sharply. What if she had slept at home the past week? What would they have done? She pulled her elbows in closer to her torso as she drove, wishing she could curl up in a ball, away from them.
“It’s a big property,” Benito said. “And your mom wouldn’t be one to trust banks. Besides, we’ve already checked.”
“So why kill ourselves trying to find it when you can do the work for us?” the man in back added.
“Even if you’re right, which I promise you’re not, why would you think the evidence hasn’t already gone to the FBI?” She looked in her rearview mirror. The black sedan stayed behind her down the mile-long driveway that meandered through the property until they reached the house.
“If the FBI had it already, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Our sources think your mom left it for you.” Benito winked. “Besides, we have connections. We would know if something was about to go down. But if that happened, it’d get...complicated for you and your aunt.”
Gabriella pulled to a stop in front of the house but hesitated to shift into Park. The man in the back leaned forward, and through the rearview mirror she could see the way he leered. She kept one foot on the brake and one foot on the gas, in case he moved to try anything. At the very least she could drive into the lake.
“You have twenty-four hours, more or less,” Benito said. “Depends on when the meds wear off on your auntie.”
She gaped. “You can’t be serious.”
He stepped one foot out of the vehicle. “And if you feel tempted to call the police, we have people ready at a moment’s notice to make sure your aunt never opens her eyes again.”
“I’m telling you my aunt is no threat to you!”
He shrugged, unfazed. “We’d also need to alert someone to the fact the sizable anonymous donation your little foundation accepted last week came from a lawyer known to have ties with the Mirabella family. You may not know it now, but your grandfather and great-uncle made our name quite famous.” He winked, left the car, straightened his jacket and bent down slightly. “We’ll be in touch in twenty-four hours. Goodbye, Gabriella.”
The man in the back stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She flinched and pressed herself against the window. He laughed and joined his boss in the sedan.
Her bones ached as if they’d been filled with cement. How could this be happening? The black sedan squeezed past her car and continued around the circular drive, past the lake. It disappeared behind the willow trees on its way back to the gate. A second later, a navy Dodge Ram pulled up behind her. At the sign of the shined wingtips, Gabriella shoved the car door open. “Luke, get down.”
His eyes widened, but he hunched over and looked around.
“Stay there.” Gabriella watched out the side window as she saw glimpses through the foliage of the black sedan nearing the gate. If they spotted Luke, there was no telling what they would do, and she didn’t want to find out.
The sedan didn’t seem to slow down, and since the house wasn’t visible from the road, maybe they were in the clear. She held her breath a moment longer until the vehicle disappeared from sight.
She exhaled and dropped her head. What was she going to do?
“Are you okay?” Luke bent down to look into her eyes.
Gabriella brushed the escaping tear away with the heel of her hand. “Relatively speaking.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who was in the black sedan?”
She shook her head.
“Did he threaten you?” His right hand rested on her shoulder. “Gabriella, what happened? You’re shaking and pale.”
She tried to force a smile. It was imperative he think things were normal so she could convince him to leave. “Thanks for the compliment.” The attempted joke fell flat, though, as her voice shook.
He narrowed his eyes. “Did someone hurt you?”
Gabriella looked forward and focused on the trees swaying in the breeze, but it only served to remind her of the ticking clock. Twenty-four hours left until they killed her great-aunt, and she had no idea where to begin.
Who could she call? The police? The FBI? Absolutely not. Her mother and aunt had told her a thousand times that for every ten good officers, a crooked one took a deal. And Benito’s offhanded comments seemed to corroborate the sentiment.
She moved to get out of the car. Luke stood to make room for her. He held out a hand to help her.
Normally, she’d wave it away, but as heavy as her bones felt, she accepted. The strength in his grip as he gently pulled her to standing bolstered her determination. She would not let those men hurt her great-aunt Freddie—the woman had been like a second mother to her.
“Luke, it’s not a good time to look at the property after all. I’m sorry I wasted your time. I’ll call you to reschedule?”
Luke didn’t flinch, and his hand didn’t move from her wrist. “This isn’t business. I’m here as a friend. My receptionist said you were arguing with that man before you left, and the black sedan followed you. What happened?”
The question caused her stomach to lurch as she remembered Benito’s callous compartmentalization between business and family—if he even was actual family. She scoffed at the thought.
Luke’s gaze dropped to her wrist. “Gabriella, your pulse is pounding against my hand.” His blue eyes met hers as he flashed a smile. “And I don’t think it’s because of me.” His expression sobered. “You either need to give me some hint of what’s going on so I know you’re safe or I’m calling the police and reporting that sedan for suspicious behavior.”
He frowned and shook his head. “I haven’t seen you look like this since...”
He didn’t need to say it aloud. She knew he remembered the night they were dumped by their fiancés. Betrayed by those they loved.
“There’s no need to call the police.” Gabriella tugged her hand away from his touch. She couldn’t think of an explanation that would keep him in the dark while he had a finger on the beat of her heart, but she also didn’t want to lie to him. That was a nonnegotiable. She would never lie, and up until now, she thought her mother never did either.
“I am safe,” she said. At the moment.
He tilted his head. “Gabriella?”
She melted when he said her name. “Yes?”
“Are you sure you’re ready to sell?”
Oh, no. He thought she wanted to change her mind. But if she got her aunt out of this horrible situation, she’d still need Luke’s help. She couldn’t afford for him to think she was backing out.
She inhaled. This needed to be fast. “My mom’s bank accounts didn’t even hold enough money to cover the funeral costs. The property, as you know, is massive. And even though the deed is free and clear, I cleaned out my savings to pay for the property taxes that were due. My great-aunt has nothing to pay for her assisted living costs after September. I have no choice but to sell.” Her eyes widened. “And I basically just told you I’m desperate.”
He closed his eyes and his chin dipped. “I see why you would think that, but I didn’t interpret it like that. I asked as your friend.” He sighed. “But, if this property suits my needs, I promise to offer you a fair price. And I insist you ask other developers for bids.”
“I came to you in the first place because I trust you.”
He frowned. “Then what’s the problem? Why’d you leave so fast if you hadn’t changed your mind?”
This was the Luke she remembered. He never accepted simple answers. He always pursued the reasons and motivations until it made sense to him. Once, he followed their theology professor around and around the room, asking questions. He should’ve been a reporter. “I received some bad news about my great-aunt, and I need to make some unforeseen...arrangements.”
He raised his left eyebrow. “Is this about the assisted living bills?”
She cringed. There he went, getting the wrong idea. She could see the pity in his eyes. “No. It’s a private matter.”
Luke crossed his arms across his chest, his strength evident as his biceps bulged against the suit jacket. “At least let me see you inside and make you a cup of tea. You look like you could faint.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he held out a hand. “You don’t need to tell me any more if you don’t want to, but I hope you know that I’m a great listener.”
Unbidden memories sprang to mind: sitting together on a stone bench on campus after they’d just found out about their fiancés, organizing board game tournaments in the commons, studying at the library, laughing at the movie playing in the park. “I remember,” she said softly.
If she argued against his kindness any more, he would dig in his heels. Luke was as determined and stubborn as he was thoughtful and kind—probably why he succeeded in his career. She shrugged. “I have no idea what’s in the pantry. I haven’t been sleeping here, just stopping in on mornings to grab clothes.”
She wanted to spend as little time as possible in the house. While it was not much easier to stay with her aunt in assisted living, coming home without her mother and aunt there proved too painful to endure.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.