It All Started... Page 3

  There weren’t any preliminaries. Wolf got right down to business. “You’re Beth Roberts, right? Friend of Adam Michaels and Lance Brentwood?”

  Nice teeth. Arms folded over the scalloped, scooped blouse of her Pirate costume, Beth tilted her head and smiled. Striking eyes.

  Wolf, expecting an answer, was unsure what to do when she took a defensive posture and then smiled as she looked him over. She then stuck out her hand toward him.

  “Hi, I am Beth. Nice to meet you, Wolf.”

  Now remembering his manners, or, actually the lack of them, he took her rebuke in good form. A smile transformed the sharp angles of his good-looking face as they shook hands. “Sorry. Yes, nice to meet you, too. I’m worried about a friend and hoped you might have some information that could help.”

  Beth relaxed a little. The last time Security had come looking for her, she had been fired. “You must mean Lance, as I can’t see how you could possibly know Adam.”

  Sharp woman, Wolf thought. “Yes. I only referred to Adam because of how highly Lance had spoken of you both. I know you were all friends.”

  Were friends? How much does he know? Beth glanced over her shoulder. She really needed to get back to work. This interview was getting a little too long and Beth didn’t want to keep Kirk double-filling boats much longer. She certainly didn’t want to get into trouble in her first position back. “So you’re worried about Lance?” Join the club.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, he’s missing.”

  Beth hesitated. She knew Lance had gone off to Idaho on her false lead, but he should’ve been home months ago. Did he give up and go back to his family in Boston? Did he think that she and Adam would turn him in to the police for trying to shoot them? No, he knew that would raise too many questions. Questions about what she and Adam had discovered in the treasure they found under Pirates of the Caribbean…and neither she nor Adam wanted to explain how they became owners of so many unknown historical treasures they had found while following Walt Disney’s lost diary. Questions about the fortune of gold and gems they found at the end of their quest. She shook her head at the thought, frowning. Lance wouldn’t do that. He had been too adamant about his parent’s lifestyle when the trio had flown to the island of Tobago to continue their search. Maybe he got a different job, or moved to a different city to start over. She shook her head, her focus back on Wolf’s statement, “He’s missing.”

  “I don’t understand. How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” Beth didn’t know how much to tell this stranger.

  Wolf sensed her hesitancy and filled her in on some of the details she probably didn’t know. “You may or may not know that Lance is my Security partner. Three nights ago, we were closing the Park and I was called away on a disturbance. I haven’t seen him since. I just wondered if you might know where or how he is.”

  Beth bit her lip, thinking. “Lance always did like to keep people guessing. Are you sure he didn’t just take off with some of his friends?” A little grin crossed her lips. She could just as easily have said ‘girls’ instead of ‘friends’ but decided not to go there. Her smile was not returned. “I suppose you’ve done the obvious like calling him or stopping by his townhouse?”

  Wolf gave a short nod. “Of course,” not mentioning that Lance had lost his townhouse a couple of weeks ago. Wolf had helped him move into a small apartment. “His car is still in the parking lot, in the same place, and covered with dust.” Wolf hesitated and let his revelation sink in. “And he never clocked out that night and hasn’t clocked in since.”

  Beth’s eyebrows shot up. “That is serious.” Beth ignored the issue of the time cards. “Lance never lets his cars get dirty.”

  Wolf was silent, waiting for more. Beth shrugged. “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything. I haven’t…I haven’t seen Lance in a while. We had a little, uh, falling out.”

  Wolf saw a wave of hurt pass over her eyes. She’d never make a good poker player. He knew she told the truth, and he knew it bothered her a great deal. “Well, thank you for your time.”

  Wolf turned to go, but Beth called him back. “Wolf? Umm…I hope everything is all right. Could you let me know? Please?”

  He gave a curt nod and strode through the exit as silently as he came.

  Beth watched until he rounded the corner and was out of sight. Her feelings were mixed with worry for Lance and Adam’s cold-hearted dismissal of Lance as a friend. With a sigh, she turned to go back to work.

  Wolf walked slowly through the quaint, narrow streets of New Orleans Square, his mind at work on the disappearance of his friend while his eyes darted back and forth looking for anything amiss. A small group of teenage girls stopped him and asked if they could take a picture with him. Stifling his immediate response of ‘No,’ he remembered his Disney training and gave the girls a wide, if insincere, smile as they clustered around the dark, handsome man. The one chosen to take the picture grumbled as he walked off before she could have her picture taken with him.

  By the time he reached the New Orleans train station, his personal cell phone vibrated. Once out of his pants pocket, he glanced at the caller ID. “Yes, boss?” Wolf listened intently to his instructions, a wave of surprise crossing his face. Ah, that explains it. “Consider it done,” were his only words as he snapped the small phone shut.

  The steam train, the Ward Kimball, pulled into the station to greet dozens of waiting guests with its ringing bell and a loud hissing of steam. Wolf waited until the engineer had gotten the train to a complete stop and was waiting for the ‘All Aboard’ call from the conductor. He walked up the ramp and asked the engineer if he had a Phillips screwdriver he could borrow. Knowing there was always a full set of tools at all the train stations, Wolf was soon on his way.

  As Wolf headed toward the cast member entrance to the Pirates ride, he suddenly remembered the night Lance had disappeared. The door he approached had been open that night. Now, thanks to the phone call, he knew exactly where Lance had gone.

  And now—he needed to cover it up.

  For two days, Beth had thought about the security guard’s appearance at work. She could tell he was worried about his friend and disappointed she couldn’t help. Thoughts of Lance went swirling through her mind. Was he all right? Was he in trouble? After what he did to them, should she even care?

  She gave an emotional sigh. There was still another hour before her shift ended. She was meeting Adam and his parents for dinner later that evening. Ever since Wolf had talked to her two days earlier, she had been bombarded with questions about him from her female co-workers who had seen her talking to the mysterious man. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell them much. She had gotten the distinct impression that Wolf was more of an observer than a talker. And all of this had done nothing to keep her from dwelling on the possibility that Lance might be in trouble—whether physically or emotionally.

  When Beth’s shift was over, she headed down the corridor under Pirates of the Caribbean. Once in backstage walkway, she would cross over to Main Street and head to the lockers where she could change out of her costume. Her steps slowed as she neared that door within that corridor—the one that would take her behind the scenes of the Captain’s Quarters where she knew the secret door to the hidden cavern was located. Had Lance gone back there? Perhaps he had fallen down the dark, steep steps and was lying there hurt at the bottom. Maybe he got himself locked inside somehow and couldn’t get out.…

  Her imagination was making her heart speed up. Calm down, she told herself. Lance is a big boy and can take care of himself.

  Then why was his Security partner looking for him? Why has he been gone for days? And without his car? Lance loved his car.

  Without any hesitation, Beth looked around to make sure she was alone in the corridor. Passing a locked door marked ‘No Admittance,’ Beth found a door labeled ‘Captains Quarters’ and pulled it open. Once she stepped into the cool darkness of the rocky passageway, she could hear the familiar music of the Pirate ride
and the screams of guests as they plummeted down the first waterfall. She quickly ducked into the blue-lighted side passage that led directly into the Captain’s Quarters. The grisly remains of the pirate captain was still upright in his ornate bed, magnifying glass in hand to study the big red X on the map spread over him.

  Even though she was worried, Beth had to smile in the darkness. It sure was easier to just walk through the door than have to jump off a moving boat without being seen! The jump had been terrifying, but tremendously fun.

  As the threesome had done before, Beth timed the boats so she could slip unobserved behind the huge headboard. When it was again clear, she pushed the red X on the map. Ducking behind the huge gold and red headboard, she saw that the secret panel she, Lance and Adam had previously discovered was now open. Crawling in, she found the stairs and turned on the small flashlight all the cast members carry in their costume. She was relieved not to see Lance sprawled at the bottom of the stairs.

  At the door that had held their last clue ‘Sunnee holds the key,’ she was surprised to find it was now completely shut. She knew Adam had closed the door just far enough to make it look as if it was locked. Knocking on the door, she called out for Lance. Not sure what to expect, she was again relieved to hear nothing. As her flashlight illuminated the door, she hesitated on a small indentation. The first bullet Lance had fired had left that dent on the metal plate that surrounded the keyhole. Shaking off the bad memory of when she and Adam had been held at gunpoint by Lance down in this secret room, she immediately swung the light lower to look at the brass plate which had the final clue etched on its surface. She looked for the words ‘Sunnee holds the key.’

  To Beth’s surprise, the brass plate was no longer there. She jerked the light back up to the keyhole. With the exception of the dent from the bullet, the brass faceplate was bright and shiny. She also saw there was no longer any keyhole in the middle. A solid piece of matching brass had been put in its place.

  Beth took a step back, her mouth open in shock. The plaque with the clue was gone and the keyhole had been removed.

  The final clue to their quest had been completely removed.

  No one would ever be able to open that door again.

  Lance’s head was pounding. Eyes closed, his hand came up to rub his temple. When that proved to be ineffective in relieving the pain, Lance turned onto his side in an attempt to come to his feet. Instead of the cold, hard cement of the cavern floor, his hand encountered a cool, smooth softness. He forced one eye open. Expecting the darkness of the cavern, his eye immediately shut at the painfully intense brightness that poured in from a leaded glass window.

  “You should probably take that a little slower.” A soft, feminine voice came from somewhere in the room.

  “If I were any slower, I’d probably be pronounced dead.” Unsure if he had actually spoken out loud, Lance rolled back in bed and covered his eyes with an arm.

  The appreciative laugh from the same female voice brought his mind instantly out of the fog that enveloped it. Even though the arm across his eyes didn’t move, he became alert. He wasn’t in Disneyland any longer, that much he knew. He tried to listen to hear how many were there surrounding him. Under the covers, he felt for his Security belt. The huge Mag flashlight they carried had many uses, protection being one of them. Only it wasn’t there. Neither was his uniform. His chest was bare and he had on some kind of silk pajama bottoms.

  “He’s awake. Sort of.” The sound of a click told him the woman had just phoned someone. “Try to open your eyes again. The headache should be clearing by now.”

  Ok, I’ll throw back the covers, jump out of bed, and run out of here, Lance plotted in his swirling mind. I’m pretty good at outrunning girls. Plan firmly in mind, Lance bolted upright in bed. It was working brilliantly until the vertigo hit again. Defeated, he slumped back with a groan.

  “Well, that didn’t work, now did it?” The voice had a distinctive smile to it. She obviously was enjoying herself. “It’s all right, Mr. Brentwood. You’re among friends.… More or less.”

  Lance managed to pry open one eye. He focused on a shapely pair of legs that emerged from a knee-length light yellow linen skirt. His practiced eye traveled down the legs to the pink-tipped toes peeking out of jeweled sandals. “I heard that,” he said to her toes, moving his arm in an attempt to find out what the rest of her looked like. Yet another brilliant plan was thwarted when the door to the room opened and the toes stepped back out of sight. He felt, for some reason, disappointed.

  “Ah, Mr. Brentwood.” It was the same deep voice he had heard over the barrel of a gun.

  When Lance again tensed, the feminine voice spoke up. “He seems to be having trouble with the headache and apparent vertigo. He wants to bolt but can’t focus yet.”

  “Thank you, dear. You can go for now. I’ll call you if I need you.”

  With a flutter of linen and a small whiff of subtle perfume, the door clicked shut again. ‘Dear?’ Lance repeated to himself. Maybe her toes were older than he thought….

  “Do relax, Mr. Brentwood. I can feel your tension across the room.”

  Slowly this time, Lance came to a sitting position. Immobile for a moment, he found the vertigo was gone. Cautiously he opened his eyes and let them adjust to the brightness. He glared at the blond-haired man who leaned against the wall of the room looking very relaxed. There was no gun in sight, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t close by or on the man’s person.

  As if reading his thoughts, the stranger’s hands came slowly up, palms out. “I am unarmed, Mr. Brentwood, as you can see. I do apologize for the gun, but, as we were both dealing with unknowns, it was necessary, as you will no doubt find.”

  Lance let his words work around his mind as he reached for a silk robe lying across the bed at his feet. Slowly pulling it over his bare arms and chest, Lance tried to figure out which question to ask first. “Where am I?”

  “In my home.” The man was casual as he gestured an arm around the room.

  The response did not come close to satisfying Lance. Ok, so it was going to go like that? “And if I ask sixty questions, do I get to guess on the right answer?” he shot out angrily. “Where am I?” The force in his tone revealed his frustration.

  The hands that had dropped to the man’s side came up again to pacify Lance. “I know you have many questions, as do I. You’ll find there’s a Need-To-Know basis on both our parts. Please be patient and I promise that everything will be answered.”

  That wasn’t satisfactory for Lance. “Am I a prisoner here?”

  That seemed to surprise the blond-haired man. “Why, no! You are our guest. In fact, we’ve been waiting for you for a long, long time.” He paused as if thinking on his words, and then added, “Well, we’ve been waiting for someone….”

  Before Lance could work that out, the man pointed to a pile of clothes on the mahogany dresser. “You might be more comfortable in those. Please join us downstairs in the dayroom once you are dressed. Kimberly and I will be waiting. Oh, and Mr. Brentwood? I am quite aware of your ability for rappelling, but please don’t jump out the windows.” The man grinned as he swept an arm toward the two windows on the far wall. “Without the proper equipment, it’s quite a drop from this high up.” With a quiet laugh, the man turned and opened the door behind him.

  Lance held up a familiar shirt in his hands. These were his clothes. Not his Security uniform or even the clothes from his locker at Disneyland. To add to his confusion, these clothes had hung in the closet in his apartment.

  As he watched the door click shut, Lance wondered what he had gotten himself into. He didn’t hear any locking mechanism so he assumed he wasn’t confined to the room and was free to join his…captors? He didn’t really know what to call them.

  Taking off the robe, he took his time pulling on his shirt. Let them wait. After changing into a pair of his slacks, Lance walked over to the window where sun filtered in through expensive lace drapes. Pulling the curtain aside, he lo
oked out over an expansive garden, lush with manicured lawns, colorful flowers, a white gazebo and a five-tiered marble fountain that served as a centerpiece for the grounds. Lance saw that the window was not two but three floors up, which made any attempt at escape a very real hazard to his health. A feeling of resignation swept over him while at the same time, a curious—if not cautious—feeling of intrigue pricked at his consciousness. He pulled on a pair of his Italian loafers and took a deep breath before heading out the door…and into the unknown.

  “So, tell me again about the clue ‘Lilly Belle.’ Was it you or Mr. Michaels who figured out where to go? Who devised the plan to rappel into the warehouse?”

  “What difference does it make who did what?” Lance was getting exasperated. The blond-haired man had asked question after question on his and Adam’s search for the hidden items Walt had left behind. “I figured out some of the clues. Adam figured out others. Ask Adam!”

  “I’m not interested in Mr. Michaels. His part is essentially done. You, however, came back to the cavern. Why is that, Mr. Brentwood?”

  Lance paused, his eyes narrow. This man seemed to know everything about their general search yet he seemed to know nothing about their individual quest. He was even somehow familiar with the diary. Why didn’t he do the search himself if he knew about the diary? Why wasn’t he interested in talking to Adam? What about Beth? There had been no mention of her so far. How did he know Lance came back to the cavern? Did he know he, Lance, had no idea what the final clue was and wasn’t even present at whatever treasure was found by Adam and Beth? Or was that what it was all about—this odd man wanted to know where the treasure was and what was in it. Should he tell the mystery man that he didn’t know what the treasure even consisted of and that he had just stumbled, literally by accident, into the cavern where he found the machine that held what he assumed was a cryogenic Walt Disney?