by Clay, Verna
He said, "First off, please call me Collin. May I call you Dottie?"
"Oh, yes, of course." She sounded breathless, like she'd run for miles.
He continued, "I don't remember much after the plane's wing sheered off, but I do vaguely remember being pulled from the plane and then…" He smiled slightly and although he was rough and outdoorsy looking—almost unapproachable looking—she thought he was the handsomest man she'd ever met, even with the abrasions and cuts scattered over his face. It has to be those blue eyes.
He finished his sentence, "…and then I remember hearing the voice of an angel assuring me I was going to be fine and…" his gaze shifted over her face, "I believed the angel."
Dottie felt tears brimming and reached to swipe them. She stuttered, "I-I'm so happy I was there to help." She swiped more tears while Mr. Banks—Collin—watched. He frowned when he saw her bandaged hands.
Softly he said, "I'm so sorry about your hands. Are they burned?"
"Only minor burns; nothing serious."
He again lifted his eyes to hers. "Can you tell me what happened from start to finish, from your perspective?"
Dottie cleared her throat. "Of course."
For several minutes they discussed the crash from both their perspectives. Collin said, "I just don't understand it. My plane has never had problems and it's regularly checked out. Because there was a crash, the NTSB will investigate and hopefully find the cause."
They were silent for a few seconds before Dottie said, "Other than seeing how you are," she glanced at his left leg lying atop the covers in a cast from ankle to knee and inwardly winced, "I wanted you to know that the media is seeking me out and I don't want to say anything you don't want said."
He seemed surprised by her words. "You mean you're not thrilled to become the subject of public adoration?"
Dottie puffed a breath. "No. I'm not. I hate garnering attention."
Collin said quietly, "Well, that's a breath of fresh air."
Dottie wasn't sure she understood his remark, so she didn't respond.
He said, "I guess I'd appreciate it if you didn't elaborate on the mechanical issues with my plane. Other than that, you can say whatever you like."
Dottie heaved a sigh of relief that now she had a track to run on. Changing the subject, she asked, "If it's not too personal of me to ask, why were you flying over Oasis?"
Collin chuckled. "Obviously, from the attention we're receiving from the media, you've heard that I'm a treasure hunter. I was flying over your area to get the lay of the land. I've been researching the Manfred Schneider Gold Heist of 1911 for a couple of years, and I finally had time to devote to solving the mystery of the missing gold."
Dottie's said, "I kind of suspected that. I guess you know that people have been searching for those gold bars for a hundred years."
Collin chuckled. "Only a hundred years? I once discovered treasure hidden for over a thousand."
Dottie grinned. "Well, if anyone can find it, I suspect it will be you."
A noise in the hallway interrupted them. Dottie said, "Goodness, I should go so you can rest." She jumped up.
Collin said, "Wait! Are you returning to Oasis now or will you be in Phoenix for awhile?"
"Ah, I actually booked a motel room for a few days hoping the media would leave Oasis."
"You said you have a dime store in the town. Won't that hurt your business?"
"I have some savings. Besides, I wanted to get away anyway."
"If it isn't too much of an inconvenience, maybe you could stop by and visit again tomorrow."
Dottie's heart slammed her chest. "Yes, I'd like that."
Collin's smile creased the sides of his mouth and made him look so sexy Dottie could hardly breathe. He lifted a hand in farewell and she placed her bandaged palm against his. Frissons of something akin to electricity skated from her head to her feet, which caused her to blush profusely. Her being a redhead, she knew he couldn't miss seeing her blush.
Chapter 6: History's Mysteries
Collin watched the woman who had saved his life leave his hospital room. He guessed her age to be somewhere between mid to late thirties. She was sweet in a down home, wholesome way, and she'd actually blushed while touching his hand.
While a nurse gave him a shot in the hip for pain he considered what Dottie had revealed about herself. She was a widow with a daughter in college; she had lived in Oasis most of her life; she had inherited her home and business, Dottie's Dime Store, from her father, who had inherited it from his, and so on; and her ancestors had been some of the first to settle the area. That last piece of information could be helpful. He needed to interview people with ancestry stretching back to the early days of the town and the gold heist.
The chatty nurse was talking to him, but he'd been so caught up in his thoughts that he'd missed what she said. "I'm sorry. Could you please repeat that?" he asked.
"I was just sayin' that we haven't had so much excitement at the hospital since Willie Nelson came in with a busted arm after a fender bender in his bus. Why, I saw a special on History's Mysteries about you discoverin' that sunken treasure in the Bermuda Triangle. The part I liked best was when…"
The woman prattled on and Collin sighed.
Later he lifted the cover over his dinner plate. Ugh! It was some kind of soup and a pathetic looking chicken breast. What he wouldn't give for a large bowl of pasta smothered in Alfredo sauce that he could dip garlic bread dripping with butter into. He had a sudden vision of dining with Dottie at his favorite restaurant in Key West. Lifting a spoonful of the tasteless soup, he pushed that idea aside. Oh, he intended to reward her handsomely for saving his life, and, in fact, intended to call his attorney soon to get the ball rolling, but flying her across country wouldn't be prudent.
Collin reached for his cell phone. Pushing the dinner tray away, he hit speed dial for his partner. On the first ring, Jake answered. "Hope you're just bored, Collin, because I'm in no mood for bad news. Your plane crash just about gave me a heart attack."
"I'm bored as hell."
"Just wait until the reporters latch on to you. That should alleviate some boredom."
"Nope, don't think that's going to happen. The hospital has great security and I'm hoping it holds out until I'm gone. I did meet the woman who pulled me from the wreckage, though. Sweet gal."
"They're all sweet at first. Think she's gonna try to gouge you for money for saving your sorry ass?"
"Jake, Jake, why are you so jaded?"
"For the same reason you are: money makes for strange bedfellows."
"Speaking of bedfellows, have you heard from Kate? She was really pissed when I left Florida."
Jake sighed loudly. "After the accident, she called all hysterical wanting to know about your condition, and when I assured her you were going to live, she got pissy again. She told me hell could freeze before she'd call you or fly out to Phoenix. What in tarnation did you do to make her so mad?"
"I told her she was getting too serious and there was no way in hell I'd ever marry again. After Alexis took me to the cleaners in that nasty divorce, I'm perfectly happy living out my days single. I ended our 'so-called' relationship."
Jake made an indecipherable sound. "Not to change the subject, but when do you think you'll be heading home. Do you need me to fly to Phoenix and secret you out of the hospital?"
"No. The hospital administrator thinks she can get me out unseen by media rats."
"You know, don't you, that the reason for your flight over Oasis is going to leak out. Hell, it's probably already out. People are gonna research the area and put two and two together when they read about that gold heist a hundred years ago. Treasure hunters are gonna swarm the area just because the famous—or is that infamous—Collin Banks has taken an interest."
Collin rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I know. I know. I guess I should let things cool for a few months."
"Are you sure you don't want to just forget this one? You know we're getting cl
ose to finding the Vittoria off the Marquesas Keys. The scattered artifacts we've been recovering are increasing daily. I can feel success in my bones."
Collin felt a sharp pain in his leg and decided it was time to end the call. "Although I don't want to, I'll think about scrapping the Oasis search. Jake, my leg is hurting like hell. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay, buddy. If you want me to fly over or if you want me to send someone just say the word."
"Thanks, Jake."
Collin rang for the nurse and requested another pain killer. Almost immediately, a robust woman with a German accent entered his room and gave him a shot in the ass. Thank god it wasn't the chatty nurse. The shot made him drowsy and as he was falling asleep, he suddenly had a crazy inspiration about how to continue his search for gold in Oasis, and it would involve Dottie Arnez.
Chapter 7: Hiding In Plain Sight
The next day, Collin was more alert than he had been the following day. When Dottie entered his room mid morning, he was sitting upright against pillows with his leg stretched out over another pillow. The sun was shining brightly as he pondered a plan to hide in plain sight from the media—at least for a short time—and learn more about the history of Oasis from old-timers.
Collin noticed that Dottie was again blushing behind her shy smile. She was nothing like the women he dated or associated with. She was neither slim, nor overweight. Everything about her could be classified as average—height, weight, looks—except her eyes; they were almond shaped and the prettiest green he'd ever seen. When she smiled, they tilted exotically upward and, combined with her sweet personality, made her practically irresistible. Except that as much as Collin was attracted to her, he was determined to stay detached. His divorce had cost him dearly; not only financially, but worse, emotionally.
Unfortunately, after six years of bachelorhood, with relationships with women who understood his "no strings attached" policy, he'd succumbed to Kate's charms. Two years ago he'd hired her to join his dive crew of three other professionals, all men, with himself and Jake making a total of six divers. Kate was petite, with dark brunette hair and large brown, flirty eyes. He'd resisted her for a year and finally given in to lust, bedding her and wondering if he was ready for something long term. They'd had a torrid affair, but soon into it, he'd known that that's all it would be. The only thing they had in common was diving expertise and sex. Whenever he'd tried to talk to her about topics such as history, spirituality, geography, literature, she just didn’t "get him." He'd attempted to explain his frustration at not being able to communicate with her, but she'd turned even that into a sexual encounter. Finally, a couple of weeks previous, he'd broken off their relationship. To say she'd been pissed was an understatement. She'd come unglued—at first angry and then apologetic, and then angry again. When he'd considered giving their affair another try, he couldn't muster the ambition to do so. The woman bored him to tears.
Now, watching Dottie approach his bed carrying a small vase of flowers, he grinned. "Hello, Dottie. I'm guessing those flowers are for me?"
Her smile widened and her eyes tilted upward with that unusual slant. She teased, "How'd you guess?"
Collin returned her smile. "I was kind of out of it when you visited yesterday. I feel more alert today, so maybe I can hold an intelligent conversation."
"I thought you were very intelligent yesterday."
She set the vase of flowers on the bedside table and Collin motioned toward the chair next to his bed. "Please have a seat. Did you have trouble getting past the media?"
"No. I called Mrs. Hinthorn and told her I was returning and she advised me to enter through the emergency room. She met me there and led me to the stairwell. She did say, however, that their spokesperson met with the media yesterday and updated them on your condition, explaining that you were recovering well and would be discharged sometime next week."
Collin adjusted his leg on the pillow. Dottie had just offered him the perfect opportunity to introduce his request. He said, "Speaking of discharge, there's something I've been pondering."
She settled more comfortably in her chair and waited for him to continue.
He forged on. "My original plan after leaving the hospital was to fly back to Florida and forget my quest for Manfred Schneider's stolen gold, but I just hated doing so. When I'm on the trail of treasure, I like to follow it through to either success or failure. Maybe the gold bars were recovered long ago by an unnamed person or perhaps they're still hidden, but if I don't continue my research and perhaps a physical search of the area, I'll never know." He paused for breath.
Dottie looked intrigued.
He finally got to the crux of what he wanted to ask. He heaved a breath. "I was wondering if you knew of someplace in Oasis where I could hide out while doing research. I don't want to stay at a motel because word would get out and the media would converge." He looked pensive when he added, "I know that eventually my whereabouts will be discovered, but the longer I can postpone the inevitable, the better. What I'm looking for is a room to rent from someone who can keep a secret. That way, I can continue my research by interviewing descendants of the settlers of the town. Over the years, I've discovered there's much to be revealed by just talking to people. Sometimes family stories are handed down from generation to generation, or there are old letters or newspaper clippings just waiting to be retrieved from attics or basements." He paused to gauge her expression and her red hair made her pretty eyes appear even greener.
She said, "I think that's a wonderful idea."
He grinned. "Can you think of a place I could hang out? I'll pay the owner well."
"I know just the place and it won't cost you anything."
"I pay my way. I don't expect–"
She interrupted. "You can stay at my place! I live outside of town and my father built a small, three-room guesthouse for his mother-in-law. It has a kitchen, sleeping area, and bathroom. I keep it clean because my daughter sometimes brings friends when she visits from college and it's perfect for them."
Collin said, "It sounds ideal, but I wouldn't want to put you out."
"You wouldn't put me out at all, and I could help you locate people to interview. I grew up in Oasis and know everyone, and if we asked them to keep your visit a secret, they would. Well, everyone except Nettie Wilson, the town busybody. She'd eventually find out because her husband owns the museum, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it."
Collin was feeling so elated about this turn of events that he almost forgot the pain in his battered body.
Over the next hour, Dottie described Oasis and its inhabitants.
Chapter 8: On The Sly
Five days later Dottie was driving the highway toward Oasis and laughing with Collin about their narrow escape. With the help of Mrs. Hinthorn and a nurse, they had exited through the emergency room and were just pulling away from the curb when a news van drove up behind them. Collin was lying unseen in the backseat.
It had been Mrs. Hinthorn's suggestion that she and Dottie exchange vehicles in the parking lot of the doctors' offices next door to the hospital and use her car to pick Collin up. After returning to the parking lot Collin and Dottie would escape in Dottie's car. The quick thinking woman had said that throughout her career she'd had extensive experience with news media, and more than likely, they knew the make, model, and license plate of Dottie's car.
Dottie had wondered about that very thing and parked blocks away for her visits with Collin the previous week.
Their escape couldn't have been better executed.
Collin joked, "Dottie, I've been dodging the media for years and now I think I've turned you into a fugitive, too."
He said more soberly, "I'm really sorry."
She waved a dismissive hand. "Hey, I think I should be thanking you. I was going through a midlife crisis and whining about how boring my life was. Don't give it another thought."
Collin said with surprise, "Dottie, you can't be over forty."
"Fo
rty-four to be exact."
He shook his head. "I honestly thought you were in your mid thirties. You're very young looking. I'm forty-six myself and look much older."
"You don't!" she exclaimed.
Collin's voice sobered. "You're very sweet and I owe you big time for going along with this crazy scheme. And hey, thanks for shopping and picking up some clothes and necessities for me. Are you sure Jake wired you enough money?"
Dottie motioned with her hand. "More than enough. In fact, I have some to return to you."
"No way. You keep whatever's left."
Dottie frowned. "I can't do that. I'll just save it for anything else you need." She decided to change the subject and chanced a question. "So, tell me how you got started searching for treasure?"
Collin studied her for a second as if trying to decide whether to allow the conversation shift. Finally, he chuckled, "I blame it all on my old man. He was close to fifty when I was born and my mother was in her forties. They had both given up on having children years earlier. My mother was a homemaker, always catering to me and my father, and for all his crankiness, he loved us. He was a welder by trade, honest and hard working, but he could also be a mean old cuss. He didn't much joke or carry on conversation, except when talking about his passion, treasure hunting and gold panning. We spent just about every weekend doing one or the other. The only metal detector he could afford was a cheap piece of crap, but he learned how to get the most out of it and taught me how, too. He had little patience for anything except treasure hunting. He'd check books out from the library, research old newspaper articles, talk to old-timers. And for some reason, he liked me tagging along. Being a welder, his profession allowed us to live in different parts of the country, so I was well traveled by the age of twelve.
"We never discovered a hoard of treasure, but we did find lots of nice pieces. My dad also panned a fairly good-sized nugget once, and lots of smaller ones. What I believe to be his greatest find, however, was a cache of letters written from a Union soldier to his mother during the Civil War. They were in a trunk stored in the basement of a house that had long since tumbled to the ground. The owner gave us permission to search the property and agreed to split the profits of whatever we found. After my father and the owner realized the magnitude of our find, they decided they couldn't profit on something so mind boggling. Not only did the letters shed light on the loneliness and horror of that war, but the soldier made mention of being assigned to protect Abraham Lincoln during a visit. He was very descriptive in his recollections of the president, not only physically, but in relating the president's private moments.