Page 24 of Artifice (Pros and Cons Mysteries #4)

O live twisted in the man’s grip, her training kicking in as she prepared to drive an elbow into his solar plexus.

But his next words froze her.

“There’s a guard with a gun making rounds every six minutes,” the man whispered. “And I don’t think either of us want to explain to those people why we’re spying on them. Understand?”

She remained frozen another second before nodding.

Slowly, the man released his hand from her mouth. He maintained a firm grip on her arm as he pulled her deeper into the shadows behind a rusted dumpster.

Olive turned, ready to fight.

Then she realized it was . . . Simon.

Her muscles loosened—but only slightly.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, yanking her arm free.

In the faint light, his expression was grim. “I could ask you the same thing, Ms. Bettencourt—if that’s really your name.”

She ignored his statement. “You followed me.”

“Or maybe we’re following the same people.” His eyes flicked toward the warehouse. “You need to leave. Now. This isn’t what you think it is, and you’re not equipped to handle it.”

“And you are?” she challenged.

A distant beam of light swept across the gravel as a guard rounded the far corner of the building.

Simon pressed Olive deeper into the shadows. “We don’t have time for this. Either leave with me right now, or I’ll create a distraction you won’t like.”

Before she could respond, the side door creaked open. Principal Denarau’s voice carried across the darkness: “Check the perimeter again. I thought I heard something.”

Simon’s fingers tightened around her wrist. “Your choice, Liv.”

She gritted her teeth before muttering. “Fine.”

Simon pulled her toward the fence line just as the sweep of a flashlight beam cut through the darkness behind them.

Simon’s grip was iron around Olive’s wrist as he pulled her through the gap in the fence. The rusty metal caught her dress again, this time tearing a jagged line up the side.

She bit back some choice words, focusing instead on the flashlight beams cutting through the darkness behind them.

“My car’s this way,” she whispered, tugging Simon in the opposite direction.

“Too close to the warehouse,” Simon countered, not slowing his pace. “They’ll have spotters watching the access road.”

The sharp rocks of the abandoned lot bit into her bare feet. Olive kept pace.

She crouched low, moving from shadow to shadow with practiced stealth.

Simon’s movements mirrored her own—too practiced to be coincidental.

Whoever he really was, he’d had similar training.

They reached a cluster of storage containers stacked three high near the property’s edge. Simon led her behind them, then abruptly stopped. He pressed his back against the corrugated metal.

“Wait,” he breathed, his voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Headlights swept across the main road as a black SUV with tinted windows rolled past. It slowed near her parked rental car, its high beams illuminating the vehicle.

Olive tensed. “My rental?—”

“Is now compromised,” Simon finished. “You won’t be going back for it tonight.”

The SUV continued down the road, disappearing around a bend.

But Olive knew the driver would circle back. Standard search pattern.

Simon gestured toward a narrow path leading to the water. “This way. Quick and quiet.”

She didn’t argue.

They slipped between two storage containers, following a steep trail that wound between boulders down to a rocky strip of shoreline. The crashing waves masked their movements, but the terrain was treacherous in the darkness.

Olive stumbled over loose stones, fighting to maintain her balance.

Simon steadied her with a hand on her elbow.

“Careful.” He pointed to a small dock hidden by an outcropping of rock. “There.”

Moored to the weathered planks was a small motorboat, rocking gently with the incoming tide.

“You planned this,” Olive accused.

“I planned an exit strategy,” he corrected. He stepped onto the dock and quickly untied the mooring lines. “Which is apparently more than you did.”

Olive hesitated.

Getting into a boat with a man she might not be able to trust wasn’t ideal. But the alternatives—being caught by armed guards or trying to hike miles back to town in high heels and a torn dress—seemed worse.

Besides, she did have a gun in case she needed it.

“Fine.” She carefully stepped onto the swaying floating dock.

Simon helped her into the boat. Then he pushed off, jumping in as it drifted free.

He pulled a key from his pocket and started the engine, keeping it at its lowest setting as they eased away from shore.

Only when they were a hundred yards from land did he open the throttle.

The boat cut through the choppy dark water as they headed along the coastline, parallel to shore but well beyond the reach of the warehouse’s security lights.

It was only then that Olive spoke.

“Who are you really?” Olive demanded over the engine’s hum.

Simon kept his eyes forward, navigating by the lights of the town ahead. “It’s like I told you. I’m a consultant.”

“We both know there’s more to the story than that.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Let’s just say we share a similar interest in Lighthouse Harbor—but from different angles.”

The lights of the town grew larger as Simon guided the boat toward a small, secluded cove well away from the main harbor.

“Those blueprints in the warehouse,” Olive pressed. “What were they showing?”

Simon gave her a sidelong glance. “How much did you see?”

“Not enough. But I know those weren’t renovation plans. And I know Principal Denarau wasn’t meeting Mr. Thorne for a friendly chat about keeping the school’s grounds green and tidy.”

He cut the engine as they drifted into the sheltered cove. The sudden silence felt jarring.

“The official blueprint of Lighthouse Harbor shows a solid foundation built directly into the cliff,” Simon said carefully. “The reality is more complicated. There’s a series of reinforced chambers beneath the east wing. Tunnels, if you will.”

Her eyes widened with surprise. “For what purpose?”

“That,” Simon said grimly, “is something I don’t know.”

“Where do they lead?”

“I don’t know that either.”

Olive’s thoughts raced.

Did those tunnels have anything to do with Colin’s disappearance? There had to be a way to access and explore them. But how?

What exactly was Principal Denarau using those tunnels for? And why did he need blueprints?

Simon rattled off a set of numbers.

A phone number, she realized.

“Call me if you ever need anything.”

Olive blinked as she stared at him. His face was shadowed, but his strong form was illuminated by the moon reflecting off the ocean.

The man was formidable.

He could have tried to hurt her, but he didn’t.

“Why would you help me?” she finally asked.

The boat bumped gently against a small, private dock. Simon secured it quickly.

“Because you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong—for a reason I’m not sure about yet—and I don’t want to see anything happen to you.” He looked directly into her eyes, his expression deadly serious. “People who get nosy around here tend to disappear.”

“Is that what happened to the missing students at Lighthouse Harbor?”

His eye twitched, but he didn’t answer. But he knew about those missing students, didn’t he? He’d tried to play it off when she mentioned it earlier. But it had all been an act. His surprise had been because Olive knew about the students.

Instead, he helped her onto the dock, then pointed toward a narrow path winding up the bluff. “That trail will take you to Mariner Street. Your B&B is about half a mile east from there.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And I’m not going to. The deeper you dig yourself into this, the harder it’s going to be for you to get out unscathed. If I were you, I’d leave, and I wouldn’t look back.”

She eyed him curiously. Who was this guy?

Instead, she asked, “What about you?”

“I need to return this boat before it’s reported missing.” He glanced at his watch. “There’s a board meeting on Thursday at ten. If you stay in town that long, I recommend you attend. Ask lots of questions about the renovation budget.”

“Why?”

“I think you’re smart enough to figure that out.” His gaze darkened. “Whatever you do, don’t go back to the warehouse. That place isn’t just dangerous—it’s the center of everything.”

Before Olive could ask anything more, Simon pushed away from the dock. The small boat almost immediately disappeared into the darkness.

Standing alone on the dock, her torn dress fluttering in the cold night air, Olive realized her hands were shaking. From cold, from adrenaline, from the growing certainty that Colin Andrews hadn’t simply run away—he’d discovered something he was never meant to see.

And now she had also.