They began scrambling around the cottage, looking under furniture, in closets, behind doors. No kitten.
In the bedroom, however, the slight sound of a kitten meowing reached their ears. Puzzled, they searched for the origin of the sound. Far back in Willow’s dark closet, they found a floorboard that had become dislodged.
Marco’s words from the barn hung in the air. “Hidden under the floorboards.’’ Could it have been in the cottage, and not in the farmhouse? Flashlight in hand, they explored the area under the board and retrieved both a terrified kitten, and a square black metal box.
Warily, they opened it. It was filled with money. Neat stacks of large bills filled the box. A small black book sat on top. Rockford leafed through it.
“It’s Marco’s secret stash, of course. And a book filled with the ID numbers of several Swiss bank accounts. As well as names. Names the FBI will gratefully investigate, I’m sure.”
“Should we call them?”
“Not right now. Not on your life.” He pulled her onto his lap. “I have other plans right now.” He started kissing her neck.
“All that money.” Willow sighed. “What will happen to it?”
“I have an idea.” He laughed. “We’ll turn it over to Sister George and let her deal with the FBI. If there is any chance of putting the money to good use, she’ll wangle it out of them. Guaranteed. Not even the FBI can stand up to Sister George, believe me.”
“I believe you!”
“She taught me how to do country line dancing, you know. I’m quite adept at two whole songs, if you want to give it a try some time. And I have the hat and boots.” He chuckled.
“Sure thing. But I was thinking of something new. I found this group that is doing Scottish country dancing. It’s lively and fun and you dress in costume and you could wear a—”
“A kilt?” he admonished. “You think you are going to get me into a kilt?”
She nodded. “You definitely have the legs for it.”
“We’ll see.” They laughed. He kissed her again. “I love you, Willow. Forever.”
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