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I hop up, buttoning my pants as I stand next to her and look out to where she’s pointing.
“Is it just me?” she asks. “Please tell me that boulder down there looks like a skull.”
I don’t even have to tilt my head or squint. I’ve never seen a boulder that looks more like a skull. “It isn’t just you.”
She hops and lets out a little squeal. “That has to be it, right? That has to be where the treasure is.”
I don’t share her excitement. Finding the treasure means an end to her needing me, an end to my excuse for staying here when I should head back to LA. “It seems likely. Want to try to get down there?”
Below the rock outcropping we’re on, there’s a straight drop to the small valley below. We’re deep in the mountains, far from the actual valley where Catalpa Creek rests. This is more like a dip, a several acres wide divot in the mountain range. And it’s several hundred feet down from where we’re standing.
“There.” Honey points to the west and a more sloping climb down. It looks like there might even be a narrow trail, probably created by deer.
“Want to go now? We only have a few hours before the sun sets.”
“We’ll make it quick,” she says. “I just want to know if there’s any obvious place a treasure might be hidden.”
Her excitement is contagious, lighting me up with renewed energy. “Let’s go.”
There’s no path to the slope Honey spotted, and it’s slow going through dead leaves and overgrown brush, dodging bramble bushes and low-hanging branches. Honey hasn’t said a word, but she’s gripping the back of my shirt so hard it’s pulling at my neck and she’s panting like we’re working much harder than we are.
She’s clearly out of her comfort zone and terrified, but there’s not a chance in hell she’s going to back down now. It’s been beyond impressive to see her confront her fear day after day, but this is pushing the envelope.
“You want to piggyback?” I ask, ready to move my pack to my chest and pull her onto my back.
“No.” She bites the word out like it’s painful. “I’m fine.”
She relaxes her grip on my shirt once we reach the deer trail and start down the hill. I reach back and lace my fingers through hers, gripping her hand tight as we make our way down.
We’re about halfway down when my phone rings. I don’t usually get service this far out in the woods, and I almost never get calls anymore.
“You should answer it.” Honey pulls me to a stop. “It might be the PI or a security agent.”
She doesn’t have to say that she’s worried something’s happened to one of her sisters. Her concern is clear on her face.
I pull off my pack and dig out my phone, but it’s stopped ringing by the time I get to it. I hit the missed call from the private investigator, and wait while it rings, my heart thumping with nerves.
“Dell’s at the Weston house,” the private investigator, Arielle Mayson, says without preamble. “I’ve sent in a security agent and told her to keep a low profile. She’s acting as a friend of Honey’s who’s stopping by to see her, and she’s going to do her best to run interference on whatever Dell is up to.”
“We’re headed back there now.” Honey’s face has gone ghostly pale and her eyes are glassy. “Thanks.”
I hang up and push down my own worry and doubt. This is Honey’s family. I need to be the rock for her. “Dell’s at your house, but a security agent is there to keep him from causing any trouble.”
She slaps a hand over her mouth, and a tear spills down her cheek. “He’s never going to leave me alone.”
I’ve had the same thought. This guy might say he wants money, but what’s stopping him from coming back for more? It’s one reason I’ve held off on paying him. I’ve been hoping Arielle could uncover some dirt that would get him sent to prison for years and years, far longer than the few months he’d probably get if I pressed charge for the diner fight.
So far, Ariel’s come up empty. The guy is a ghost.
I hug Honey. “They’re okay, baby. Arielle has her best people on this and we can be there in an hour.”
She pulls in a deep breath and nods against my chest. “Okay. Let’s go.”
We race back up the hill, through the underbrush and deep leaves, getting scratched and smacked by tree branches, but we don’t slow down. Honey seems to have forgotten her fear of the forest as she runs full tilt.
She’s more scared of what Dell might say or do to her sisters than about anything we might face out here.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
