by Stacy Finz
“You ready?”
“Jeez, you’re like a bad penny, Moretti.”
“I figured after the Lucky incident you might need a bodyguard. The knives are out.”
She sighed and put her cake plate down on an empty tray. “You saw Clay, didn’t you?”
“Let’s walk this way, so we can grab a bunch of sparklers.” He steered her toward the door. “Yeah, I saw. Maybe he just didn’t want the kid getting hopped on sugar.”
“Good try. But I saw Donna Thurston go over to him, whisper something in his ear, and next thing I know he’s swooping Harper up like I’m Ted Bundy.”
“Now that you mention it, you kind of look like him.”
“Thanks,” she said. “And thanks for believing the worst of me tonight. I really appreciate that.”
She was trying to pass it off as if she didn’t care, but he could tell she did.
“Give me a break, Ray. What would you think if in a room filled with more than a hundred people, I happened to plow into my archnemesis and knock his wine out of his hand?”
She put her mouth close to his ear. “Everyone here is my archnemesis.”
Raylene had a point. No question that the good folks of Nugget hated her guts.
“Someday, you’re gonna tell me the whole story.”
“I told my whole story to the police. Now I’m done talking about it. Forever.”
They scooped up the rice and send-off sparklers and Gabe made sure everyone in his general vicinity got one. Gia and a few of the kids handled the rest. They went outside and everyone formed two rows for the bride and groom to pass through on their way back to the Lumber Baron, where they planned to stay the night before leaving the next day on their honeymoon.
A cheer went up and the crowd began waving their lit sparklers in the air and chucking rice at Logan and Annie as they walked the path.
When Logan got to Gabe and Nick they shouted,“Hooyah,” and pounded on each other’s backs. Logan picked up Raylene and swung her around while Annie hugged Gia. There were a lot of kisses and crying and congratulatory embraces and two weepy mothers who fussed.
“It was a beautiful wedding,” Emily told Annie.
“Thank you for making the cake. It was the star of the show.” Annie gave Emily a squeeze.
“No, you were.”
Gabe walked the newlyweds to Logan’s truck and tucked Annie’s dress in the door. “You kids take care, now. Bring me back something nice.”
Logan whispered in his ear, “Take care of my sister.”
“You got it. Godspeed, John Glenn.”
He watched them drive off with strings of tin cans tied to their bumper and a “Just Married” sign taped to their tailgate, thanks to Chad and a few of Annie’s friends. The guests milled around for another half hour or so, but by eleven Annie’s farm stand-turned-wedding venue emptied out.
He and Raylene loaded his truck with gifts and Chad caught a ride to Annie and Logan’s with his parents.
“I guess I’m taking you,” Gabe said, since Raylene had ridden with the Sparkses to the reception.
“Either that or I’ll walk.” It wasn’t too far, only about a mile up the road, but no way in hell was he letting her get home on foot in the dark.
“Hop in, Ray. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“I’ll go first thing in the morning to get the metal detector.”
Clearly, she wasn’t too mad to let him off the hook. More’s the pity. Gabe could’ve done with a day at home, watching football instead of digging in the dirt for rocks with an off-limits temptress. Take care of my sister. If Logan only knew.
“I’ll get it.” That way he could grab some breakfast before she came banging on his door. “And meet you at the property at ten-thirty.”
“Ten?” she whined.
“It’s Sunday, Ray. The hardware store doesn’t open before ten.”
That seemed to appease her. The truth was he didn’t know what time the hardware store opened, only that he didn’t want to wake up at dawn’s early light. He’d seen enough sunrises and wanted to sleep in.
Gabe pulled up to the house and before he could put on his emergency brake, Raylene jumped out of the SUV.
He rolled down his window. “What? No kiss goodnight?”
She waved her middle finger in the air and climbed the stairs of the front porch. His mouth quirked as he admired her backside in that tight dress. Gabe waited for the foyer light to come on and started for home when he remembered he’d left his boots in the office. He’d need them tomorrow for their dig, and he rolled his eyes. Flipping a U-turn, he took the driveway past a row of privacy trees Annie had planted and pulled into the carport at L&G. With the engine running, he dashed into the building, punched in the alarm code, found his boots, and was halfway to his truck when a he heard a crackle in the neighboring woods. It sounded like the snap of a twig and then a cough. Probably an animal or a figment of his imagination. But after more than a decade in the spec ops world, “probably” wasn’t good enough. They stored hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of security equipment, a cache of weapons, top-grade gear, and ammo in the small compound. And though they had a state-of-the-art alarm system, nothing was impenetrable. Gabe ought to know. He reached in the SUV, turned off the engine, opened the glove box, and pulled out a Sig Sauer P226.
Other than the security motion light on the side of the building, the woods were pitch black. Not a problem; Gabe knew how to find his way in the dark. He circled around the building, entering the forest from the back side of L&G. Better to exercise his assault from the rear than the front, giving him the element of surprise. He crept through the trees, hoping his dress shoes didn’t creak. He felt a little like James Bond, doing reconnaissance in a tuxedo. All he needed was a Walther PPK.
With a sliver of moonlight peeking out from behind the mountains, he could see his breath in the cold. He stopped, flattened his back against a tree, and smelled the air. Pine needles, damp dirt, oak leaves, and something that didn’t quite belong. Nothing Gabe could identify, but whatever it was didn’t feel right. Fetid, like unwashed bodies. He stood there listening for a while, but all he heard was the sound of the night. Trees rustling in the breeze and an owl. He suspected if anyone had been there, they were gone now.
Still, he snuck closer to his SUV, searching the woods for shadows or clues. The ground looked recently trampled, like someone or something had compressed the sodden dirt near the perimeter of the carport. He got up close and used the flashlight on his phone. Tread marks from a tennis or hiking shoe had left an imprint. It was too small to be Gabe or Logan’s, but it could’ve been Annie’s, who had access to the building. It wasn’t unusual for her to stop by in the middle of her farming chores to say hi or to use the gym. In the dark, Gabe couldn’t tell how fresh the prints were.
By the time he got to his vehicle, he’d half convinced himself that his instincts were wrong.
Let your gut be your guide. It’ll keep you alive. The words of his commander rang in his head.
Well, his gut wanted to believe he was overreacting, but in an abundance of caution he slipped inside headquarters and cued up the last hour’s security footage. Logan had gone a little crazy with cameras, so they had eyes on practically every corner of the compound—from the carport to the shooting range. He sat in one of the office chairs at a bank of screens and flipped through the frames, alternating between cameras. Nothing looked amiss.
He went back to the footage of the carport and went through it slower this time. Nada. More than likely the noise he’d heard was a deer or a raccoon. Could’ve even been a bear cub, though most of them were supposed to be hibernating. He was about to shut the screens down when he saw something. Just a flash of color, but the hairs on Gabe’s arms went up. He rewound and paused the footage at least a dozen times when he spotted it again, zoomed in, and blew up the frame. It was too bl
urry to make out. He played with it for a while, using various software programs to get a clearer image. Finally, he was able to hone in on the picture and get a decent view of what he was looking at. It was a tennis shoe. A child’s red high top, if he wasn’t mistaken.
Alarm bells sounded in his head. Gabe sent the frame to his phone and fired it off to Rhys in a text.
“Your elusive trio may have been snooping around L&G. Call me when you get this.”
It was after midnight, and he figured Rhys was sound asleep. To be safe, he decided to camp out in his office. If anyone was out there, he’d be prepared.
* * * *
Raylene paced the kitchen. Where the hell was Gabe? He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Chad and his parents had headed back to their Yuba City farm at the crack of dawn. After breakfast, Nick and Maisy had loaded up the Winnebago and took off for Vegas. That left Raylene, who’d cleaned up the dishes and was raring to go.
She shot a text to Gabe.
Did you oversleep?
Chill, I’m on my way, came his response, with an emoji of a steaming cup of coffee.
Did he want one, or was he stopping off at the Bun Boy to bring her one? She took out the filters she’d just put away and made a new pot, in case. The man was beyond high maintenance. He did look good in a tux, though. She’d give him that. Ah, hell, who was she kidding? Gabe would look good in overalls, covered in mud. And despite his cryptic emoji, he was fairly agreeable.
But like everyone else in this town, he thought she was no good. Someday, you’re gonna tell me the whole story. Maybe she was no good, but the fact that he sided with her critics made her indignant.
She heard a car and looked outside to see Gabe pulling up. A wave of anticipation at seeing him again spread through her and she quickly willed it away. He got out and she could see that his hair was still wet and that he’d dressed for manual labor. Worn Levis, work boots, and a fleece hoodie peeked out of his jacket. There was no sign of the straw cowboy hat he liked to wear. When she found the gold, she’d buy him a felt one.
“Hey.” He came through the door. “You make coffee?”
“Yes. Did you get the metal detector?”
“Yes,” he mimicked her, and made a beeline for the kitchen. “Is there anything to eat?”
She let out a sigh and pulled eggs, milk, and cheese from the refrigerator. “There goes getting an early start. There’s bread in the cupboard.”
He retrieved the loaf and put a few slices in the toaster, then stuck his head in the fridge. Juggling the butter dish, an orange juice container, and a plate of leftover banana bread, he made his way to Annie’s old farm table.
“Did everyone get off okay?” he asked while setting them places at the table.
“Yep. I already ate. Hours ago.”
“Then you can eat again and keep me company.” He flashed her a mischevious grin.
She made him an omelet because it was one of the few dishes in her cooking repertoire. Butch used to complain that the only thing she was good for was spending his money. Since a good portion of it had been her money, she’d offered to hire him a cook. She’d gotten the back of his hand for her “smart mouth.”
“You don’t have to do that; I’ll make it.” Gabe took over the pan.
“I figured it was the least I could do.” She returned her own mischevious smile.
“Nah, when we strike it rich you’ll be giving me lots of gold.” He laughed and she rolled her eyes.
“You’re gonna be sorry for mocking me.”
“I doubt it.” He sprinkled a good heap of cheese on the eggs she’d already started. “Weezer should be here by Wednesday. We’ll have to figure something out in the meantime.”
If she could find someone to board Gunner it would take the last of her savings. Between feed, care, and barn fees, stables didn’t come cheap. Plus, she owed Gabe, or this Weezer guy, for transportation costs. They’d better find gold.
“How much trouble would it be to build something here?” It still didn’t solve who would take care of her horse until she could buy her own place. At the rate she was going, she wondered if that would ever happen.
“It’s not a lot of trouble, it’s finding the time. I’ve got other stuff on my plate. Maybe you could hire Colin Burke to do it. Do you know him?”
“No. He’s married to Harlee Roberts, right?” She barely knew Harlee but assumed she was in the Raylene Rosser Hater Club. Hell, she’d be in it, too, if she were them.
“Yep. He’s a good guy, builds furniture and does a lot of construction around here.”
“All I need is pipe corralling and someone to put it together.” It would be a lot cheaper than boarding, but she’d still have the issue of Gunner’s care. God, she hated Butch. He’d agreed to keep the gelding in exchange for using the horse on his cattle ranch in Crawford. But Butch never met a promise he didn’t go back on—their marriage vows of fidelity being the perfect example.
“I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, we have to find temporary housing.” He flipped his omelet, and it flopped against the side of the pan and fell apart.
She pointed at some of the melted cheese that had dripped on the floor. “You might want to keep your day job.”
“It’ll still taste good,” he said, in that cocky way she was learning to expect from him.
After plating the omelet, he took it to the table and waited for her to sit before digging in. “Mm, good. You sure you don’t want some?” He got up, reached over the counter, and got his toast.
She nodded and poured them both coffees. “What took you so long?”
He looked over the rim of his cup and lifted his brows. “Were you having Gabe withdrawals?”
She snorted. “I can see why you’re still single…a little too high on yourself, don’t you think?”
Gabe threw his head back and laughed. “Ray, I’m single because I choose to be single.”
She didn’t doubt it but had no intention of feeding his overinflated ego. The only thing bigger appeared to be his appetite. After devouring the omelet, he ate the toast, slathered with butter, and two slices of banana bread.
She cleared away his dishes, hoping to move them along. Daylight was burning and she needed to find that gold before she called Dana. “You ready?”
“It would help if we had something to go on, like a map.” He stared at her pointedly. “All the stories I read said there’s supposed to be one. We’ve only got the metal detector for a day, and two hundred acres is a lot of land to comb.”
She thought about it. It would be nice to have someone more experienced in map reading take a look. As a Navy SEAL he probably knew his longitude from latitude, which is more than she could say for herself. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t know the legend. If he wanted to screw her out of the gold, not having the map wasn’t going to stop him. But what finally made her give in was the fact that Gabe was Logan’s best friend, and she trusted Logan implicitly.
“Fine,” she said, and went to the hallway to find her purse. When she came back Gabe was polishing off the rest of the banana bread. “But it stays in my custody at all times.”
“You got it.” He winked and she got the distinct impression he was mocking her. The man probably had a photographic memory. He waggled his hand. “Let me see it.”
She pulled the map out of her handbag and he spread it out on the table, hunching over it.
He examined it for a while and shook his head. “You’re kidding me, right? This looks like something a two-year-old drew. There’s no compass rose, no grid, no scale indicator, no nothing. This isn’t a map. From what I can tell, it’s a sketch made by a drunk. Where’d you get it?”
“My dad. It’s been passed down from generation to generation and is based on Levi’s instructions.”
“According to everything I’ve read, Levi wasn’t the sharp
est tool in the shed, so at least the map’s consistent with that.” He looked at her. “Ray, honey, what’s it going to take for me to talk you out of this? Think of all the ways we can spend the day instead of breaking our backs, digging in the dirt while freezing our asses off. The forecast said snow. Wouldn’t you rather spend it here, in front of a fire, or in bed?” Gabe tossed her a cheeky grin.
“I’ll do it myself,” she said. “Just give me the metal detector.”
He huffed out a breath. “Stubborn, just like your flipping half brother. All right, let’s go break rocks in ten degrees.” Gabe shrugged into his jacket and she followed him outside. He opened the passenger door and ushered her in.
Five minutes later, they were at the site, unloading the equipment. Gabe was right. It was easily ten degrees outside, and Raylene could feel snow. Not the best conditions for finding buried gold. But the clock was ticking. Gabe took another look at the map and cursed under his breath.
“What’s this?” He pointed at a row of scrawl, maybe numbers, at the bottom of the paper.
“I have no idea. It looks like someone was doodling.”
He studied the scribbles for a while and shook his head.
She pulled the metal detector from the back and tried to figure out how the thing worked.
“Hang on, there,” Gabe called. “I’m thinking over there.” He pointed to another cluster of trees. “Don’t ask me why. It’s not like I can make any sense out of this.” He held up the map. “It’s just a hunch.”
His guess was as good as hers. She carried the detector to the spot and Gabe brought the shovels and the pickax.
“You do realize that thing will only detect metal a few feet down, right?”
No. “Duh.”
“What’s the likelihood your gold is buried that shallow? Don’t you think if it was it would’ve surfaced by now?”
“Jeez, Gabe, you’re hellbent on sucking all the joy out of this, aren’t you?”
He zoomed in on her pricey sheepskin gloves, a treat to herself from Rodeo Drive when she’d still had money. “Joy? Easy for you to say, since I’m the one digging.”