Hidden Sins

by Selena Montgomery

  “Greek symbols?” Mara posed the unnecessary question. “Like this?” She pulled Bailey’s journal from her bag and spread it on Aiko’s lap. A gnarled hand traced the swoops and swirls.

  “Micah built a safe with four locks. Each man on the team had a key. After the robbery, the men had twenty-four hours to hide their keys and return to the rendezvous spot. Micah got the coordinates, and he translated them into Greek. That way, only he and his men would know the truth.”

  Ethan covered Aiko’s hand gently. “If he had the coordinates, he could have dug up the keys himself without waiting on the others, right?”

  “Not without a lot of work. The coordinates were imprecise. Follow them and you get to the general area, but you’d never know exactly where to look.” With her free hand she toyed with the chain at her neck. After so long, she hadn’t expected to ever tell the story again. To explain how the gold had been lost. The chain tangled around her fingers as she spoke. “Micah was smart and cautious. As a further precaution, he sent Guerva into the Hill Country with a wagon and the safe.”

  “So Grandpa knew the coordinates to the keys and where the safe was hidden?”

  “No.” She took another drink of the ice water. The cool relieved her parched throat, easing the story that she told. “Well, he would have, but Guerva never got the chance to tell him.”

  “Conroy.” Ethan ground out the name. It was a guess, but given Aiko’s reaction earlier, he figured he was right.

  “He didn’t trust Micah or his men. When Guerva returned, Reese panicked. He assumed they were in cahoots and planned to leave him out.” She remembered approaching the campsite, said, “It sounds silly, but I’d fallen in love with Micah in those moments at my tent. So I followed him to the meeting point. I stood in the shadows and overheard the argument. Then I saw Reese attack Guerva.” Rubbing at legs that were no longer capable of such amazing feats, she described flying through the air to stop him. “I got the gun away from him and over to Micah.”

  “You can do that?” marveled Ethan.

  “Could. Worked for the circus, didn’t I?” Aiko managed a slight grin. “I was quite something in my day.”

  “Nana.”

  “Yes, well, I tossed Micah the gun, but Reese wasn’t finished. He wrested Bailey’s gun from him and fired. Micah—” Her voice broke over the name. “He pushed me aside. The gunpowder exploded.” She gasped, reliving the moment. “Micah was blinded, permanently.”

  The worst told, she slipped her fingers free of Ethan’s and reached for the pull of the nightstand drawer. “Guerva was dead. Poncho devastated. By the time the mess was sorted out, Reese had vanished.”

  “Why not recover the gold then?”

  “Bailey believed the money was cursed, and the rest of them didn’t disagree. They swore to leave it buried, to not tell a living soul where to find it.”

  “Did you know?”

  “No, but I understood why they made their vow. Penance takes a lifetime, and your grandfather swore he would pay it.” She rummaged inside and lifted out a miniature frame. Handing the photo to Mara, she pointed to the sepia images inside. Two men stood behind a young Aiko. “That night, your grandfather, Bailey, Poncho, and I buried Guerva in the hills. Poncho and I traveled with Micah for a time, but when your father was born, we moved to Kiev. Micah took up preaching for real.”

  “And the gold stayed hidden.” Ethan wandered to the window. “Without Guerva, there was no way to find the safe even if you had the keys. No map, no safe.”

  While Ethan spoke, Mara watched her grandmother and saw the almost imperceptible flinch. “What, Nana?”

  “That’s not exactly accurate. Guerva didn’t tell Micah where the gold was. But he did tell Poncho.”

  “You have a map?” Mara inhaled sharply. “All this time?”

  “No, Mara. You have. Since you were five.”

  Five? A map? Tidbits of memory became certainty, and suddenly she knew. “Fool’s Paradise. The map is Fool’s Paradise!” Mara bounced off the bed, her head spinning. Why, the crafty old lady! She had the map. Had always had it.

  Ethan frowned over the outburst. “Mara? Miss Reed?”

  The Reed women stared at each other, both poorly restraining matching smirks. He slanted a confused look between the two. “Does somebody want to clue me in?”

  Exuberant, Mara danced over to Ethan and threw her arms around his neck. In reaction, he caught her around the waist to steady the excited movement.

  “Stop writhing like a dance-hall lady and tell the boy what you know,” Aiko instructed. The promise she’d made scratched at her conscience, but to her mind, if she didn’t say it, she wasn’t breaking her word. “Tell him.”

  “Ethan, I’ve got the map! When I was five, Nana made a quilt for me. It had these odd bumps and valleys. A desert bowl filled with wildflowers, perfect for a little girl’s imagination.” She pointed to Aiko, her heart beating fiercely. “Poncho had his brother’s map. You made it into a quilt and called it Fool’s Paradise.”

  “Go on,” she replied, edging closer to the fine line.

  “Poncho gave you his brother’s map, and in order not to break your promise, you stitched it into a quilt. And gave it to me.”

  “Thought about giving it to Obadiah, but he was too mean.” Another layer of guilt settled snugly, but she was determined to get it all out. “Micah tried to be a good father to the boy, but Obadiah was wild. Hard to control when you can’t see him. Boy had his father’s tongue, though. Could sweet-talk molasses.”

  Ethan shifted Mara to curl his arm around her waist, and she leaned into him. “Did Micah tell Obadiah about the gold?”

  Aiko noticed the comfortable stance and approved. The boy had adored her Mara, and unless her old eyes deceived, he still did. “When Obie was still a child, Micah had me show him the numbers that I’d tattooed on the men. By then I’d learned Greek.”

  “How?” asked Ethan, fascinated. Greek was a difficult language under the best circumstances, but with a blind tutor?

  “Micah was a good teacher. I’d describe the letters to him and he taught me the language. The man could teach anything.”

  “So Dad learned the numbers. Where did the numerology come in?

  “College. Obie fell in with a religious crowd and they taught him some nonsense about sin and sacred numbers. By the time he came back, he was a monster. Headstrong and greedy for power. Took what his father taught him and perverted it.”

  “There was nothing you could have done, Nana. He was a grown man.”

  “In any event, I chose not to give the quilt to him. Or your mother. But when you came along, I decided you’d be the one who’d find the treasure, if it was God’s will.”

  Ethan saw the woman’s certainty, but didn’t quite accept it. “And you believe it is? That God would want your granddaughter to find stolen gold and profit from it?”

  “The Lord works in mysterious ways, Ethan. A cliché, but as good an explanation as any. Otherwise, why do you think you showed up again?”

  Uncomfortable with religious metaphor and with the knowing look she slanted him, Ethan quickly returned the conversation to more secular ground. “So we have Reverend Reed’s key, the map, and the symbols to find Bailey’s key and Poncho’s. But Reese’s key is lost.”

  Mara searched in her bag for her grandfather’s note. Placing the worn paper in her grandmother’s hands, she asked, “Nana, have you seen this before?”

  “Micah couldn’t keep his word any better than I have.” She reached out and linked hands with Ethan and Mara, the note on her lap. “Poncho told me that he had sought a resting place for his key.”

  Ethan creased his brow. “Resting place? Like a cemetery.”

  “Poncho did like cemeteries. Thought it was odd.” Drifting and tired, she squeezed their hands, her eyes firm. One more clue, she thought, and the past would be done. “Listen to me carefully. It only takes three to complete this circle, children. Three. Godspeed.”

  They
sped along the highway, each lost in thought. Mara considered the implications of her grandmother’s story. Yes, they had the map, and half the coordinates. Bailey’s from the map, Poncho and her grandfather from the bones. She knew they were closer to the gold, but it still felt miles away. Ethan had mumbled something about an idea, but when she pressed him, he demurred. Still, she couldn’t muster irritation, given the annoying gratitude she felt.

  Mara folded the note and tucked it into her pocket. If they were going to be hunting gold and artifacts together, she probably ought to clear the air, she thought. Make her amends and whatnot before they got back to the warehouse. She felt like an AA member starting her ninth step. Surely, she warned herself, apologizing and showing gratitude in the same day broke one of her own precious rules. But she couldn’t think of one. Instead, she screwed her courage up and mumbled, “Look, I think I may owe you a thank-you.”

  Turning down the radio dial, Ethan glanced over at her and nearly laughed at the pained expression. “Don’t gush, darling. I might get ideas.”

  “Shut up and let me finish.” Like a Band-Aid, Mara. Just rip it off. “Okay, well, if you hadn’t been spying on me and saved me and then lied to me about trying to find my family’s treasure—”

  “Stolen loot and priceless manuscript,” he interjected. “And I thought this was a thank-you?”

  “Hush.” She turned in her seat to face him and leaned forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. “If you hadn’t started me on this path, I wouldn’t have gone to see my grandmother. Thank you.”

  “You would have. You love her.”

  “Shame is a powerful deterrent, Ethan. I abandoned her.”

  “You were just a kid. She understood. And you more than atoned by covering the cost of her swank accommodations.”

  “I’m not—that is, I don’t—”

  “That’s what you did with the money, isn’t it? You’ve been paying for her care.”

  “I owe her.”

  “There are cheaper ways to pay a debt, sweetheart.” Ethan could hear the embarrassment, and he found it endearing. “You’re a good person, Mara Elizabeth Reed.”

  “Only my grandma calls me that.” Mara set her heels on the dashboard and lifted her hands into the wind. “We’ve still got a lot of problems, Ethan. Finding the other coordinates. Locating the keys. Not getting killed by Conroy and his goons.”

  “Don’t worry, Mara Elizabeth. I’ve got a plan.”

  Chapter 14

  “Will you sit down?”

  Turning away from the window, Mara directed a frustrated glare in Ethan’s general direction. Anxious, uneasy, she couldn’t still the racing of her mind. Her grandmother’s revelations swirled with recollections and possibilities. Somewhere in the middle of Texas, her destiny lay buried. If she had her druthers, they’d be on the road, map in hand. But instead of hunting for it, she was trapped in a box with dead people and their overly vigilant keeper.

  “I don’t understand what we’re waiting for. We could be halfway to Austin by now.” She folded her arms mutinously. “Linda could have taken care of Lesley.”

  Ethan grimaced. They’d had this argument every six minutes since leaving Shreveport. Ms. Indiana Jones wanted to go dashing into the breach with a raggedy quilt, a set of blurry tattoos, and an old lady’s recollections; and she was none too pleased by his demurral. “We need to do more research. With Conroy and his goons on our tail, we’ll have to be prepared for anything.”

  “Not if we do nothing. Which they know.” She returned to the window and pointed across the street. “They’ve been sitting down there for hours,” she grumbled. Rabbe and Guffin had taken up post directly across the street in the ubiquitous black SUV. Every hour one of them would emerge and amble down the sidewalk to the fast-food joint on the corner. Since their return a little after one, they’d traded places, consumed what appeared to be a gallon of coffee, and never stopped watching the warehouse. De rigueur for a stakeout, she knew, but unnerving when she was the prey.

  “As long as they don’t move, we know Conroy doesn’t have the information,” he retorted mildly.

  Annoyed by the entirely reasonable logic, Mara decided to pass the time by pouting. “It’s almost seven P.M. Linda and your girlfriend should have gotten here by now.”

  Girlfriend. The word, one that Mara seemed to relish wielding, wasn’t entirely accurate. In fact, Lesley would be surprised to hear the term used so generously. He’d meant to call her and update her on his situation, but time had gotten away from him. An itch settled in the unreachable spot between his shoulders. “Um, I checked with the airline. Lesley’s plane landed on schedule. They should be here soon.”

  Mara strode past him, her vigil at the window abandoned for pacing. “Does she know about me?”

  “Not exactly.” With a low, long breath Ethan settled on the edge of the futon, near Mara’s mincing steps. The restless gait showcased trim, toned legs that wore a cutoff pair of his khakis. He’d agreed to the decimation, in deference to the heat, but he was having second thoughts. And third. And none of them were appropriate when his could-be girlfriend was en route. “I think we need to lay some ground rules.”

  She’d been expecting the conversation since they left Shreveport. In her head the rehearsed lines about being partners and grown-ups and mature adults sounded perfect. Of course, in her head Ethan resembled one of the dusty, wrinkly cows she’d seen meandering along the highway. Reality, though, had shades of a beard beneath a single dimple and a mouth that could tempt a nun. “I don’t plan to seduce you while she’s here, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I got the message loud and clear, honey. You’re a one-woman man and I’m not the girl.”

  Since her easy words were exactly what he wanted to hear, Ethan wondered why they irritated him. “Kissing you was as much my fault as yours.”

  “Actually, the first kiss was my doing. The grope downstairs was your handiwork.”

  Grope? He didn’t grope. They’d nearly made love on a lab table, yes, but it wasn’t a clumsy grope. Temper rising, he bit out, “The point is, I haven’t mentioned you or us to Lesley.”

  “Right. She doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “She doesn’t know you exist.”

  Mara’s steps faltered. She shouldn’t be shocked that his new lover didn’t know about a teenage affair. After all, few of her friends had any inkling about Ethan. That most of her friends didn’t know her real name may have played a part.

  “Mara, listen.” Ethan motioned to the futon. When she reluctantly joined him, he immediately regretted the invitation. It seemed patently unfair that his soap would smell so wondrous on her. That her skin glowed like it was lit from within. That after a week with her, images of Lesley’s strong, classic beauty dissolved into impish features that sent shivers through his belly. “I need to explain.”

  Grappling for equanimity, she pasted on an indulgent expression. One that didn’t reflect the hurt that shimmered in her eyes. “You don’t owe me an explanation. We’ve both moved on with our lives. I never expected you to keep a candle burning for me. Or a torch. You know what I mean.” She cupped his cheek, trying to ignore the warmth that radiated along her skin, that tempted her to move closer. “I’m glad you’ve found someone to make you happy. You deserve it.”

  The itch that had taken up residence between his shoulder blades and the watermelon-sized knot of tension at his neck dueled for supremacy. Unaccustomed to unraveling lies, he cleared his throat with effort. “I may not have been entirely clear about my relationship with Lesley,” he began. Feeling like a schoolboy in front of the principal, he mumbled, “We care for each other deeply, it’s true. And we are attracted to one another—”

  Mara bounced off the futon mid-sentence. Accepting that he was in love with another woman did not mean she had to endure a true confessions moment. She stormed into the kitchen, her back to Ethan. Carefully, she swiped at the mist that gathered in her eyes. “I don’t need the gory details. You like her. She
likes you. I’m in the way. I get it.”

  “No, you don’t.” Conscience warred with confusion. Hell, he didn’t get it. A week ago Lesley Baxter was the woman he thought he could plan a life with. Now all he could think about was a cheat and a liar who made his insides melt and his temper flare. “Listen—”

  “No.” Mara stopped and turned to face him, arms akimbo. “I’ve got enough on my plate without trying to become friends with you, Ethan. Because we’re not. Friends.”

  “Then what are we?”

  “Allies today. Colleagues tomorrow. And as soon as we find the gold, long-lost acquaintances who don’t send each other Christmas cards.” She didn’t bother to sob or to plead. Choices stayed made, whether or not you cared for the consequences. Didn’t matter if the deck had been stacked against you before you sat down to play. You choose either to stay or hit. Not that she cared for conceiving of her life as a blackjack metaphor, but there was no help for it. “I’m a big girl, Ethan. I can take it if she can.”

  Coward that he was, Ethan remained silent, offering only a short nod. He’d tried to tell her, he reasoned. Perhaps it was for the best. What he’d planned to say, he didn’t have a clue. More staggering, he was at a loss for what he’d wanted to hear in return. Disturbed, antsy, he headed downstairs. “I’ll let you know when they arrive.”

  In the warehouse, he moved easily around the room, clearing tools and storing equipment. Though they hadn’t discussed it, once Lesley arrived, they’d need to move. Quickly. Ethan figured they’d take his car and aim for the Hill Country. The primary obstacle would be eluding their guards. He had a plan for that as well.