“No problem.”
Kane walked out with Siobhan. “He didn’t even talk to me,” Siobhan said.
“You didn’t talk to him, either.”
“I thought you’d introduce us.”
“Not that kind of relationship.”
“But you know him.”
“Yep.”
“You’re impossible.”
“So you’ve said, sugar.” He opened the passenger door of an old pickup truck that had seen better days, then lifted her onto the seat.
“I can—” she began, then stared at him.
He kept his hands firmly on her waist, then he kissed her. Just a light kiss, though no less possessive than the kiss he’d laid on her when he found her earlier. He wanted to take her to the back of the pickup, but that would be for another day. “I know,” he said, his voice rough. “You can do it yourself.”
Then he smiled and slammed her door shut.
Maybe there was something about this relationship thing that he would enjoy after all.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“It’s not even six in the goddamn morning,” Carlo Romero said as he swung open the door.
Carlo had obviously been sleeping. Kane’s dad would have been in his late sixties now; Carlo was a few years older than Paul Rogan would have been. His too-long gray hair stuck up every which way and he wore plaid pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt that was clean but could have used a bleaching.
“Hello, Carlo,” Kane said.
Carlo stared. “Well, I’ll be a motherfucker, Kane Rogan! Jesus H. Christ.” He crossed himself as if that would forgive his swearing. “I would say I’m surprised to see you, but I’m not.” He opened the door wider and motioned for them to come inside. He lived in a two-room flat in the French Quarter. Six a.m. might be the only time New Orleans actually slept.
Carlo grinned at Siobhan. “You brought me a looker.”
“She’s mine, and younger than your daughter,” Kane said. “You need a damn haircut.”
“Of course she is, and like hell I do.”
“I’m nobody’s,” Siobhan said, irritated. She extended her hand. “Siobhan Walsh.”
“Classy, too.” Carlo took her hand, then kissed it. “Kane, make the coffee, I need to freshen up for your pretty lady.”
“I don’t have time.”
“Make the damn coffee, because I’m sure as fuck not going to talk to anyone without a cup of joe.”
He walked into the adjoining room and shut the door.
Kane turned into the kitchenette and easily found ingredients for coffee. Carlo might live in a dive apartment on the edge of the Quarter, but he was extremely tidy. You can take the man out of the military, but some things would remain the same. No clutter, no dirt, no dishes in the sink. Kane heard the shower go on. Great. Carlo had to pretty himself up.
Yeah, some things never change.
Ten minutes later the coffee was done and Carlo was dressed and coming out of his bedroom. He cleaned up well, his too-long gray hair brushed back into a stubby ponytail. A clean T-shirt, slacks, loafers. “I figure I won’t be getting back to sleep this morning.” He poured himself a cup of black coffee. “Help yourself,” he said. “I ain’t no fucking waiter.”
Kane poured himself black coffee and one for Siobhan. He added a little sugar—he knew she drank it black but preferred it sweetened if she could get it.
They all sat in the living room. There were two couches that faced each other, and a large-screen television on the wall.
“I know why you’re here.”
“No, you don’t.”
“The boys found the gold.”
The gold. The fucking treasure his parents had been obsessed with.
“Is that what this shit is all about?”
“What d’you think?”
“I don’t give a damn about the gold. I’m here because they stole six million in bearer bonds and my future sister-in-law.”
Carlo raised his eyebrows. “Well, well. I see.” He sipped his coffee. “You never had an imagination. I remember when you were little your mama—God rest her soul—would read these books to you and Molly. Duke was still a baby, but you and Molly were two peas in a pod. Irish twins, Sheila called you. She’d read these books with talking animals and elephants sitting on eggs and Molly would laugh, but you would stare at your mama and say, ‘Penguins don’t talk,’ or, ‘An elephant is too big to sit on an egg.’ Always the realist.”
Kane forgot that Carlo had been around forever. He was there when Kane was growing up. But even before his parents died, Carlo stopped coming around.
“What happened between you and my parents? You used to always be at the house.”
“You know.”
“I don’t know.”
Carlo shrugged. Then sighed. Then sipped his coffee. “The gold. It does things to people.”
“My parents stopped looking for that damn treasure after Molly died.”
“For a while. Grief does that to folks. But grief passes, it gets buried, it changes. And Paul started researching the treasure again. I did my share. It’s my ancestors who were with Father Gregorio when they had the treasure in the first place. It’s my heritage. Dante and Liam used to listen to Paul and me talk about the damn treasure for hours … for a while it was a real sore spot with your mama, but then she got sucked in, too. It does that to people, these things.”
The treasure had been a fixture in Kane’s and Molly’s lives growing up—until she died. After, Kane rarely heard his parents talk about it. He’d already been in the military, he didn’t spend much time at home. When he was home, he and his dad talked business. Practical needs of soldiers, because Kane’s dad had military contracts. Never about some ridiculous shipment of gold and silver that had never made its way from Mexico to the Alamo before it fell. Kane doubted the treasure even existed. It was a fairy tale, like “Cinderella” and “The Golden Goose.”
“Ya hear me?” Carlo said.
“I’m sorry,” Kane muttered.
“I said after your parents died I lost the drive. I was close to your dad—and, well, Liam and Dante didn’t lose the drive. It seems Paul gave Liam all his research, months before the plane crash. He’d planned on bringing the boys in, letting them find it.” Carlo looked wistful, then shook his head. “We all were sucked in. But, as I said, it’s cursed.”
“What’s cursed? The gold?”
“The treasure. Maybe just the search. Hell if I know, but nothing good has come from it. It was cursed from the moment it left its bedrock. Some say it was stolen from the Indians. Some say graves were robbed, the gold and jewels are haunted. Others say Stephen Austin cut a deal with the devil.”
“If you believe in fairy tales.”
“I believe, Kane.” Carlo got up and brought the coffeepot back to the table. He refilled everyone’s cup and added a sugar cube into Siobhan’s. The man might be old, but he had sharp eyes. He’d seen Kane doctor her coffee earlier.
“Thank you, Mr. Romero,” Siobhan said.
He smiled, winked. “My pleasure, Ms. Walsh. Call me Carlo, Uncle Carlo, honeybuns. Whatever tickles your fancy.”
Siobhan smiled and Kane tried not to rush Carlo into giving him information.
Carlo put the pot back and sat down across from Kane.
“Carlo, I have word that Philip Corsica is working closely with Liam and Dante. Have you seen him?”
“Not recently. Philip is like a son to me, like your pal JT Caruso was a son to Paul. They’re friends, have been forever. You know that.”
Kane wondered how much Carlo really knew. Paul had welcomed JT into the house—had never said anything when JT practically moved in when he and Kane were both fourteen. Everyone knew that JT’s father was bad news. But by the time Kane was in high school his parents were traveling more often than not or spending time in their research lab. They weren’t engaged with what was going on at home. Sometimes he wondered if they even remembered JT lived there.
“Dante led me to b
elieve he and Liam had a falling-out.”
“They did, but they made up. Unlike you and Liam.”
“Because Liam was working for a drug lord. There are lines that cannot be crossed. He knew it.”
“Liam is more a free spirit.”
“Liam is a criminal. Look, I’m not here to debate the pros and cons of my brother’s decisions. I’m here because they fucked up. They kidnapped Sean’s fiancée and took her to Mexico against her will. Lucy is an FBI agent—I shouldn’t have to explain to you why it’s dangerous for her in certain areas.”
“I’m certain the boys will protect her. They’re not violent. You know that.” He didn’t sound worried at all.
“Dammit, Carlo! I don’t have a lot of faith in my brother and sister right now. Dante damn well knows who Lucy is and why going to Mexico right now is extremely dangerous. I don’t have time to go into every detail, you have to fucking trust me!”
Carlo frowned and sipped more coffee. “Kane, your temper.”
“My temper is not your concern!”
Siobhan put her hand on Kane’s arm. He wanted to hit it away but was surprised that it had a calming effect. He took a deep breath, was about to continue, when Siobhan said, “Carlo, I’m a photojournalist. I’ve been working with Lucy while she’s been investigating a black-market baby network. Yesterday, I went home with Lucy for lunch. When we arrived, Eden and Liam drugged Lucy, handcuffed me, and left me in a shed at an airfield. They took Lucy with them. I don’t think they’ll intentionally hurt Lucy, but we have to find them. These people she’s been investigating, they know who she is. I’ve worked with the Sisters of Mercy most of my life—I’ve faced people like those in the Flores cartel. Lucy isn’t safe. And she’s one of the best people I’ve ever met. I can’t bear the thought of her suffering at their hands.”
Carlo stared at Siobhan for a long moment, and Kane wondered what he was thinking. Sometimes his father’s old friend was difficult to read, especially now, when Kane hadn’t seen him in years.
Carlo then turned to Kane. “I am truly sorry that I didn’t stay in touch after your mom and dad died. I moved here because I was so angry.”
“At my parents?”
“Paul was a visionary. He was so smart—brilliant. Little Sean, he was so much like Paul, so smart. I would love to have seen him grow up. But Duke—you know your brother cut a lot of ties.”
Kane had known, but not the extent. “You should have called me.”
“Duke is a good man. He knew what your parents were up to—that they were looking for the treasure. He didn’t approve, he’s practical, like you.”
“You cannot be saying that their accident was because of some damn treasure hunt.”
“No—not directly. Maybe not indirectly. But many people believe the treasure is cursed, that anyone seeking it will perish. Your parents were meeting with a military contractor in Colorado, I believe, right?”
“Yes. To demonstrate their latest invention. They took Sean with them, because he had helped make the thing work. I don’t even remember what it was now.”
“It was a small-weapons laser guidance system—I don’t remember the details. Sean was only fourteen then, yet figured out what Paul had been doing wrong in the programming. He expanded the range of the weapon.”
“Whatever it was, it helped pay for Sean’s education. Duke sold it after our parents died, but all the money went to Sean’s college fund.” Kane hesitated a moment. “I don’t think Duke ever told Sean. Sean had a hard time after Mom and Dad died.”
“Survivors usually do.”
“He was with them?” Siobhan asked.
Kane nodded. “He doesn’t talk about it.”
“Poor Sean,” Siobhan murmured, and crossed herself. Kane wasn’t religious, but for some reason Siobhan’s quiet, steadfast faith calmed him.
Kane looked from Siobhan to Carlo. “You’re off-topic, Carlo.”
“The treasure is cursed, to those who believe it is cursed. Your parents planned on selling that technology and funding the expedition. Paul and I knew the treasure was somewhere along the eastern Mexico coast, but we needed many things to prove it. One of them was a code in the Romero family Bible. I never could figure it out. Paul gave the code to Sean but didn’t tell him why. Sean solved it—it’s the way that mind of his works—and Paul then created a map based on Sean’s key.
“Then they died. I used the code and couldn’t find the treasure. Spent most of my savings, all of my inheritance, then gave it up. Per Paul’s request, I handed everything down to Liam and Dante. They included Philip, because Philip was like a brother, but Philip wasn’t obsessed.” He paused. “This last year, Philip has been spending a lot of time with Dante. I suspected they were searching again.”
“This doesn’t explain what the bonds have to do with the gold.”
“They have nothing to do with the gold. Except, Eden etched the map in a special ink visible under a black light onto one of the bonds. Put that bond with the others for safekeeping. I don’t know exactly how they figured it out, but at one point they determined they had the wrong starting point, so nothing matched old maps. They went back to the originals, realized the mistakes Paul and I had made and were basing all our conclusions on. But the bond that Eden had etched the map on had been stolen. They planned to steal it back, but when they got there the bonds were gone. To them, that was everything. The bonds were the treasure because the bonds protected the map.”
Carlo sighed, rubbed his eyes. “I told them to forget about it. It’s not meant to be found. I can survive on my pension. I work part-time at a bar, I don’t need much.
“Then Dante called me last month. Long ago, they knew where the last puzzle was to the map, but without the bonds it was worthless. Now Dante said they knew where the bonds were, that they were going to retrieve them, pay off Liam and Eden’s debt, and find the gold.”
Carlo stared at Kane. “I didn’t know that Sean had the bonds. Fitting, I suppose, since without him Paul could never have broken the code in the first place.”
Siobhan asked, “What is this treasure?”
“Some say it’s the San Saba treasure. Others, the Alamo treasure. If it exists, it’s gold and silver and jewels that were on their way to the Alamo, to Bowie and Crockett, to fight General Santa Anna. But before the battle of the Alamo, Santa Anna took over the main port on the gulf to cut off supplies and reinforcements and Stephen Austin was imprisoned in Mexico. When the water route was cut off, a Franciscan priest—a cousin of my ancestors—became part of the expedition to Texas. They were attacked by rebels, slaughtered—except for the priest and his nephew, who was my great-great-great–I lost track how far back. But a direct paternal line. The thing was, the rebels had no idea that they were transporting gold and silver. They didn’t want anyone to pass through their land—angered, perhaps, by some battles in the area that had burned crops. It’s conjecture at this point. But Father Gregorio believed the gold was cursed. He and his young nephew hid the treasure and vowed never to disclose it. The priest died shortly thereafter from wounds sustained in the attack, and the boy wrote everything down in a journal. He spread the map around to places that were important to the family. That was the code Sean was able to break. But the starting point … Paul and I always assumed the starting point was the place they were attacked. The starting point was, in fact, where the priest was buried.”
“And they needed the map to retrace the steps.”
“Exactly—we looked for it before, but without the correct starting point none of the markers were accurate.”
“So where is this treasure?”
“The remains of Father Gregorio’s church, which was lost to history more than a hundred years ago.”
“He wasn’t buried there?”
“No—he was buried in an unmarked grave that only Dante’s ancestor knew about. His dying wish was that he not be buried with the treasure; he felt God would punish him by not letting him into Heaven, or some such thing
.”
“Where is it.” It was a demand, not a question.
“I understand your concern, but you have to promise me something.”
“They kidnapped Sean’s fiancée. She’s practically my sister.”
Carlo raised an eyebrow.
Kane was losing his temper. “Liam and Eden violated Rogan-Caruso rules multiple times and I looked the other way. I shouldn’t have, because they became reckless and I had to cut them lose.”
“Why did Sean have the bonds?”
Kane leaned forward. “I stole them before Liam got to them, because I knew the bonds were destined for a drug lord.”
Carlo shook his head. “Liam … he always felt inferior to you, to Duke, even to little Sean. Always something to prove. The bonds were never intended for a drug lord, God no. I don’t know why he told you that.”
“He didn’t—but he took a job for a drug lord, then started planning the heist.”
“Damn him,” Carlo said, but not with real anger.
“Excuse me?”
“He was playing a game, a dangerous game. He got in with some shady people, but the bonds would have freed him—they still will. He was going to buy his and Eden’s way out of working for those same people you abhor.”
“He should have told me from the beginning!”
“But you don’t believe elephants can talk.”
Kane squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Carlo.”
“You don’t see the possibilities. The dreams. You would never have let Liam steal those bonds for the real reason he wanted them—to get the map. So he had to do things he wouldn’t otherwise do.”
Kane was beginning to understand … but Carlo was wrong about one thing. “Liam is a master manipulator. He may have wanted just the one bond that had the map, but the others would be used to finance his plan. He’s not liquid, never has been. He juggles with the best of them, lives life to the fullest, and Rogan-Caruso funded him for a long, long time. When I cut him off—before the bonds—I knew he was going to screw up. He can’t play both sides, not for me.”
“But the dream was bigger than all of us. He did it for your parents, and for me. For all of us who believe in fairy tales, that dreams can come true.”
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