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  City of Gold (Book 1 in the Matthew Connor Adventure series)

  Copyright © 2015 by Carolyn Arnold

  Excerpt from Ties that Bind (Book 1 in the Detective Madison Knight series) copyright © 2011 by Carolyn Arnold

  www.carolynarnold.net

  November 2016 Hibbert & Stiles Publishing Inc. Edition

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved. The scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN (e-book): 978-1-988353-48-7

  ISBN (paperback 4.x 7): 978-1-988353-19-7

  ISBN (paperback 5 x 8): 978-1-988064-35-2

  ISBN (hardcover 6 x 9): 978-1-988064-66-6

  Depiction of Paititi by Karen Drinkle, Copyright © 2015 Carolyn Arnold

  Cover design by WGA Designs

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  Prologue

  REPUBLIC OF INDIA

  THE SOUND OF HIS THUMPING heartbeat was only dulled by the screeching monkeys that were performing aerial acrobatics in the tree canopy overhead. Their rhythmic swinging from one vine to the next urged his steps forward but not with the same convincing nature as did the bullets whizzing by his head.

  Matthew glanced behind at his friends and was nearly met with a bullet between the eyes. He crouched low, an arm instinctively shooting up as if he’d drop faster with it atop his head. The round of shots hit a nearby tree, and splintering bark rained down on him.

  “Hurry!” he called out, as he peered at his companions.

  “What do you think we’re—” Cal lost his footing, tripping over an extended root, his arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance.

  Robyn, who was a few steps ahead of Cal, held out a hand, her pace slowing as she helped steady him.

  “Pick it up, Garcia!” Matthew didn’t miss her glare before he turned back around. He hurdled through the rainforest, leaping over some branches while dipping under others, parting dangling vines as he went, as if they were beaded curtains.

  His lungs burned, and his muscles were on fire. One quick glance up, and the monkeys spurred him on again. Not that he needed more than the cries of the men who were chasing him. The voices were getting louder, too—growing closer.

  Robyn caught up to Matthew. “What happened to natives with poison darts?”

  “The modern-day savage packs an AK-47 and body armor.”

  Several reports sounded. Another burst of ammunition splayed around them.

  “If we get out of this alive, you owe me a drink.” Her smile oddly contrasted their situation.

  “I’ll buy you each two,” Matthew promised.

  Cal ran, holding the GPS out in front of him, his arm swaying up and down, and Matthew wasn’t sure how he read it with the motion.

  “Where do you expect to take us, Cal? We’re in the middle of a damn jungle,” Robyn said.

  “Round here. Go right,” Cal shouted.

  Another deafening shot rang out and came close to hitting Matthew.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Matthew ramped up his speed, self-preservation at the top of his list while the idol secured in his backpack slipped down in priority.

  Most of their pursuers were yelling in Hindi, but one voice came through in English. He was clearly the one giving directions, and from his accent, Matthew guessed he was American, possibly from one of the northern states.

  “I have to stop…and…breathe.” Robyn held a hand to her chest.

  “We stop and we’re dead. Keep moving.” Cal reached for her arm and yanked.

  Matthew slowed his pace slightly. “Robyn, you could always get on Cal’s back.”

  “What?” Cal lowered the arm that was holding the GPS.

  She angled her head toward Matthew. “If you think I’m going to get up there like some child, you are sorely mistaken.”

  Matthew laughed but stopped abruptly, his body following suit and coming to a quick halt. He was teetering on the edge of a cliff that was several stories high, looking straight down into a violent pool of rushing water. He lifted his gaze to an upstream waterfall that fed into the basin.

  Cal caught Matthew’s backpack just in time and pulled him back to solid ground.

  The rush of adrenaline made Matthew dizzy. He bent over, braced his hands on his knees, and tucked his head between his legs. He’d just come way too close to never reaching his twenty-ninth birthday.

  Robyn punched Cal in the shoulder. “Go right, eh? Good directions, wiseass. Maybe next time we’ll just keep going straight.”

  “Sure, blame the black guy,” Cal said.

  More bullets fired over the empty space of the gorge.

  “What do we do now?” Cal asked.

  Matthew forced himself to straighten to a stand. He hadn’t brought them all the way here to die. He’d come to retrieve a priceless artifact, and by all means, it was going to get back to Canada. He pulled off his sack, quickly assessed the condition of the zippers, and shrugged it back on. He tightened the straps, looking quickly at Cal and then at Robyn. One stood to each side of him. He had to act before he lost the courage. He put his arms out behind them.

  Robyn’s eyes widened. “What are you doing, Matt? You can’t honestly be thinking of—”

  Matthew wasn’t a religious man, but he was praying for them on the way down.

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  Chapter 1

  TORONTO, CANADA

  ONE MONTH LATER…

  DRENCHED IN SWEAT, CAL MYERS gripped the sheets and bolted upright, his body heaving, his lungs hungry for oxygen. The scream that had woken him was his own.

  “Cal?” Sophie’s hand touched his shoulder, and he sprang out of the bed. She rolled over to face him. “Another nightmare?”

  That was one way of putting it. He’d been running and dodging bullets one minute, and the next thing he knew, the ground had disappeared from under him and he was falling, falling, falling. Just when it had seemed bottomless, there was the raging river with its white caps and jagged rocks dotting its surface.

  “Maybe you should take a break from all these adventures.” Her words were soft, thoughtful.

  His gaze met hers. Sophie Jones was his girlfriend of five years. Given their similar personalities and restless natures, it was hard to believe they’d managed to stay monogamous for that long. They had yet to commit to living together or the big M-word, but she grounded him—her words, not his—and she was the one who gave his life any semblance of normalcy. Besides their long-term relati
onship, nothing else fit within the confines of an ordinary existence. He blamed—and thanked—Matthew Connor for that.

  Sophie patted the mattress. “Come back to bed, baby.”

  The alarm clock on the dresser read 5:15. He had no reason to be up this early, but getting back to sleep was going to be impossible. His imagination would only continue to replay the dream.

  “You went through a lot in India,” she said. “I’m sure that Matthew would understand if you took some time off.”

  He refused to acknowledge her line of reasoning. Before Matthew, his life had been anything but exciting. While it was true that Cal had explored the world, writing travel pieces and photographing some of the most popular landmarks didn’t hold a flame to treasure hunting and being shot at and— What was wrong with him? Why did he crave the element of danger? It wasn’t healthy. If anything, his recurring nightmare confirmed that. Some time off might do him good.

  He slipped back into bed, and Sophie snuggled against him. She traced her fingertips over his chest, her touch working to dull the flashbacks.

  “Was it the same dream you’ve been having lately?”

  He swallowed, trying to keep the calm she was compelling him toward. “Yeah, the one where the ground just disappears.”

  “I didn’t think the ground disappeared from under you in India,” she teased gently.

  She was trying to make him smile, even for a second, and he loved her for that, but he didn’t want to remember what had truly happened. Was it possible he had a touch of PTSD?

  “Close enough,” he said. “I still can’t believe he pushed us over the edge like that.”

  She reached for his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “But all of you survived and you’re fine.”

  “If you consider constantly having vivid flashbacks and nightmares fine.”

  “They will pass in time.”

  He exhaled loudly. “It’s almost been a month.”

  “Hardly enough time to recoup from an experience like that.”

  “You make it all sound so positive.”

  Sophie laughed and flicked his nipple.

  “Hey!” He squeezed her hand and then rubbed where her nimble fingertip had grazed.

  “It’s your life, you know,” she said, becoming serious again. “It’s up to you what you do with it.”

  Cal thought back on his life before Matthew. He had survived on a paycheck-to-paycheck basis and was deep in debt with student loans. He couldn’t afford a car and he’d lived in a low-rent building where the landlord tracked the comings and goings of any visitors he had.

  In addition to material freedom, Matthew provided Cal with adventure and satisfied his lust for action. It was more stimulating not knowing what each day had in store. If given the option between a calm and peaceful existence and a fight for survival laced with adrenaline, his choice would easily be the latter.

  He glanced at the clock again: 5:20.

  “I’m getting up, babe.” He kissed her forehead and maneuvered his arm out from under her.

  Sophie let out a moan. “It’s so early.”

  “Yes, but you can go back to sleep.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  Sophie sat up, putting her back against the headboard. “That’s the problem. I do.” Her face contorted in a way he was very familiar with. Her left eyebrow was jacked up, and her eyes held a deep intensity. If that wasn’t enough to give away her agitation, she tousled her short, dark dreads before crossing her arms.

  “There’s nothing to worry about. You just said I’m fine.”

  “I was trying to make you feel better, but people were shooting at you and you jumped off a cliff—”

  “I was actually push—”

  “There you go,” she interrupted as she unfolded her arms and kneaded the comforter. “Either way, things are out of your control when you…” She rolled her hand, searching for the right words.

  He knew what she was doing because she didn’t like the term treasure hunting and did her best to avoid it. Even the Indiana Jones movies were not her thing, and while she supported Cal in his “outings” or “adventures,” she far from encouraged them.

  “Gather historic objects,” she finally said. “I know it makes you happy, for the most part anyway. I just don’t like seeing you having nightmares and waking up in the wee hours.”

  It was his turn to laugh. “Wee hours? I would think that applies to two or three or—”

  “You’re missing the point.” She threw the comforter off her and got out of bed, then gathered her clothes from the floor and tossed them onto the mattress.

  “And what point is that?” They rarely fought, but when they did, they tended to revolve around his expeditions and treasure hunting.

  She pulled her sweater over her head. “You might be in danger, you know. What if the men from India tracked you back to Toronto? They could know where you live.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “Now you sound like you’ve been watching too many movies.”

  “Do I?” She plucked her skirt from the bed and pulled it on.

  Faced with the direct, two-worded question, his inclination was to back down. It was packed with fervor, and paired with her tone, it had the potential to set the room ablaze.

  “Even Matthew operates under an alias,” she continued. “If it’s not because of risk, then why would he do that?”

  “You know why.”

  “Uh-huh. His father, the mayor? You’re still buying that? He’s a twenty-eight-year-old man who can’t be straightforward enough with his own father to let him know what he does for a living. Although I’m not sure how much of a living it provides when you put your lives at stake to do it.”

  “Why are you being like this?” It wasn’t like they were married, or even living together for that matter. She had no right to tell him how to live his life. No one had permission to do that.

  “Are you sure you want to know?” she snapped.

  “I asked, didn’t I?” He put his hands on his hips and realized he was standing there in his boxers. The lack of clothing somehow seemed to take away his power. He put on the pair of jeans that had been lying at his feet.

  “All right, well, here it is. And so help me God, if you snicker or make fun of what I’m about to say, it’s over, Cal. Do you hear me?”

  And they were back to this. While he liked to believe that what they had was the real deal, whenever it came to verbal blows, her strike was always an uppercut to the jaw. She always pulled out the “I guess we’re over” and “We had a good run” crap. At least they didn’t fight often.

  “Do you promise?” Her question was accompanied by a glare.

  “I promise.”

  “I feel like someone’s watching us.”

  He had made a promise not to jest about what she had to say. Hearing her voice her fear made him want to scoff, though. Was she serious?

  He cleared his throat. “Why do you think that?”

  “Don’t patronize me, Cal Myers.” She pointed a finger at him. “I see it written all over your face.”

  “Come on, baby. I just didn’t expect you to say that, that’s all.” He found his legs taking him to her now. He reached for her arm, but she pulled it out of reach.

  “Have you been listening to me at all? And you promised not to make fun of what I was going to say.”

  He held up his hands. “I’m not making fun. I swear.”

  She tilted her head to the left and studied his face. “Fine. You gonna listen?”

  He nodded. The option was either that or hitting up a florist at some point during the day. Hell, he might end up doing that anyway.

  “When we were out last night, I kept seeing this one guy. Whenever I’d look in his direction, he’d turn away really quick
ly.”

  Cal sensed her energy and saw it in the softness her features took on and in the way her eyes changed. She was afraid.

  “You have nothing to worry about.” He attempted to touch her again. This time she allowed it.

  “Can you promise that? Because I don’t think you can. I didn’t like the way this guy looked.”

  “And how was that?”

  She gazed into his eyes. “Like Liam Neeson.”

  “Liam Neeson?”

  “Yeah, you know, the actor? Taken, Clash of the Titans, The A-Team?”

  He dismissed her with a wave. “I know who he is. I would like to know what you have against him.” Her face fell, and he felt like a heel for causing that reaction. “I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve been hunting treasure for two years now. I’m still alive. I’m not going to lie and say that it’s the safest profession.”

  “If you did, I wouldn’t buy it anyway.”

  “So? Liam? What made you suspicious of him?”

  “You said that when you were in India, the person commanding all those men who were chasing you spoke English and was likely from North America.”

  Now he regretted having said anything to her about the trip. “Yeah, but that could describe a lot of people, Sophie.”

  “I’ll give you that. It’s just… What if he tracked you down? I don’t want you to go tonight.”

  Tonight was the exhibit opening and gala to celebrate the Pandu statue they had recovered in India. He wanted to be there. He couldn’t believe she was asking him to sit it out. “You what?”

  “It’s just that… I don’t think you should go. Something’s going to happen.”

  “And you’re psychic now?” He put up with her feelings, her hunches, her suspicions, but if she was starting to foresee the future, it might be time to give her the “We had a good run” speech himself. And mean it.

  She shook her head. “Of course not.”

  He let out the breath he had been holding. He’d grown accustomed to having her around.

  “I just know that he was watching us and trying to act as if he wasn’t,” she went on. “I can feel it. He left the restaurant at the same time we did. When we were waiting at the curb for the valet to bring your car around, he was standing there and he lit up a cigarette.” She stopped talking, but he sensed there was more.