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"Perfect plan," I agreed, "but first—breakfast. I'm starving."
My stomach growled loud enough for us both to hear it, and we burst out laughing. "Breakfast it is," Ronan agreed. "And then—our treasure hunt continues."
Chapter eleven
Ronan
By now the coastal road at the top of the bluff along the lakeshore north of town was somewhat familiar. We'd taken it to Whispering Bluffs only a few days earlier. As Tyler drove, the familiar streets of Blue Harbor faded into dense pine forest and the occasional view out over the deep blue waters of Lake Michigan.
Tyler broke the silence in the car. "This reminds me… I used to drive out here sometimes when I was in high school. I don't know what it was about that house, but I'd pull off the road and just stand at the gate looking at it. I'd heard the stories about old Ian, but I never met him in person. We heard some reports of him being spotted at places in town, grocery store or hardware store, but he mostly kept to himself."
"Did you ever try to sneak in?"
Tyler laughed and shook his head. "No—it wasn't that I didn't want to, but once I got here, there was that gate. It was always locked. I came out once with some of my baseball buddies, and none of us would dare to go past it. Dawson was never afraid of anything, but it even gave him pause."
I raised an eyebrow. "And you think we're going to be the ones who go where angels fear to tread?"
Tyler gripped my thigh. "It's different now. I know a lot more of his story, and I know a relative. It's almost like I'm being invited for dinner now."
"I'm glad you're so confident. I'm not sure I told you that I thought Great-Uncle Ian was a little scary when I was little."
"Don't start now…" Tyler slowed the car, scanning the road to our right. "It should be coming up soon."
I leaned forward and watched the brush alongside the road. The pines seemed to press a little closer, and the canopy overhead was a little more dense. We had to be getting close.
"There!" Tyler nearly shouted as he pointed at a small break in the treeline. He slowed down and barely made the turn onto what might have once been a grand entrance drive. Nature was starting to reclaim it, and it was now little more than a gravel path with weeds encroaching from either side.
The car bumped along the uneven drive. I gripped the armrest with one hand and Tyler's thigh with the other. "Does this make you nervous?" I asked.
"Oh, hell, yeah, but I'm so damned curious about this. Let's hope it's not too much for my own good, but I don't think so. It's broad daylight. What could happen?"
I glanced behind us, and there was no sign of the main road. "Great-Uncle Ian loved his privacy, didn't he?" We rounded a broad curve and suddenly the grand iron gates loomed before us, at least eight feet high. In the center, at the top of the barrier, I stared at a massive "G."
Tyler's knuckles were white as he continued to grip the steering wheel. "All of this kind of makes you wonder whether he was trying to hide something out here."
He killed the car engine and sat back. I pointed at the windshield. "I think the gate is open."
Tyler shook his head. "Nah, it can't be. I've never seen it open, and you said he passed away."
"I'm serious. Let's get out. It's ajar."
I opened the car door and eagerly climbed out. Since we were this close, and there was no barrier standing in our way, I wanted to see Great-Uncle Ian's legendary house close up for the first time in my life. Tyler would stand by my side and help if I encountered anything strange.
When he joined me, I asked, "Shall we?"
He conquered any trepidation. "Oh, definitely. It's almost like somebody knew we would be arriving. We'd better not be late for dinner."
We both laughed, each a little shaky.
Our footsteps crunched on the gravel as we cautiously approached the grand gate. When we were close, I saw that the metal was aging and needed some maintenance work like everything else around us. The iron had patches of rust, and paint was flaking all over.
I pulled at one large piece of the black paint. "It's a shame it's in this kind of shape already. For the last three years, Great-Uncle Ian wasn't here often. He spent more time at Evelyn's out in Maine, according to my parents."
Tyler reached out to take my hand. With the free one, he pushed against the gate. A loud creak announced our arrival to all of the overgrown trees, shrubs, and weeds around.
He let go of my hand and gestured forward. "After you."
I stepped through the space we'd created, and Tyler followed close at my shoulder. The driveway was paved beyond the gate, a ribbon of asphalt with criss-crossing cracks sprouting weeds. About one hundred yards ahead, the house loomed, clapboard like much of Blue Harbor. It reached three stories high with a cupola on top.
