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The bartender, whose name tag said Wiley, talked me through the options, most of which were local craft brews. I chose one that sounded good, and just as he slid it onto my coaster, Archie’s voice came from behind me. “That’ll be on us, Wiley,” he said. “Pretty much anything she wants is on us or else the whole world will hear how Kasper Ridge locks guests in elevators and makes them climb out on ladders.” Archie’s voicerang through me, startling the butterflies who’d relaxed since the night before and making me just the tiniest bit nervous.
Wiley’s eyebrows shot up, but the easy smile never left his face as Archie took the stool at my right.
“Thank you,” I said, turning to face him. He looked just as handsome today as he had the night before, the dark blue eyes sparking in slightly ruddy cheeks. He wore a dark collared shirt that looked like flannel, or something equally soft and warm, and a pair of dark jeans. And though he smiled at me, that glimmer of caution was there in his eyes too, the haunted look he’d worn the night before.
My stomach twinged as I dropped his gaze, Jake’s face flickering through my mind. This man had known my brother.
My father’s voice rang out inside me:this man killed your brother.
“How’s the conference?” Archie asked as Wiley placed my beer in front of me and dropped a glass of whiskey in front of Archie without being asked.
I let out a tired laugh. “It’s a lot. So much information, and you kind of sit there trying to figure out if taking notes is even worth it or if you should just absorb. Plus, half the people around me are basically famous, so there’s a whole fangirl element to it too.”
“Really? Famous?”
“I mean...if you’re a big reader, yeah. They’re names you’d know.”
“I haven’t read much in a while, I probably wouldn’t recognize them. But that’s really cool. I understand how you’d be torn in a few directions then.”
I nodded. Plus, I thought, I had to figure out how to get him to let me in on the hunt and see if I could actually deliver the article I hoped I might. “Can I be honest with you?” I asked, meeting his dark blue gaze.
Surprise lifted his brows and that half smile cocked up the full lips. “Might as well be.”
“I have an ulterior motive for wanting to meet you, though I promise I didn’t arrange that whole elevator thing.”
“I know you didn’t,” he laughed. “And I’m not sure if I should be flattered or worried about you looking for me specifically.”
I dropped my eyes, tracing condensation down my glass with one finger as I decided how to broach the topic of the hunt again. Straightforward, I thought. That would be best. “I told you I was probably going to write about the resort.”
“Yes.”
“My editor asked me to try to write a very specific story, but to do it, I’d need a lot more information than I can get just wandering around.” I looked up at him, his warm expression sending the butterflies spiraling around again. “It’s the treasure hunt.”
Archie’s smile widened, and I wondered for a second if he’d thought I was going to bring up something else. If he had any idea who my brother might be. I felt a pang of guilt at keeping that secret hidden, but there was no reason he needed to know. That part of my agenda was mine alone. Mine and my family’s. Maybe I’d tell him eventually, but I didn’t need to mention it now. This thought caused the slightest echo of guilt within me—I already knew Archie would want to know this. Keeping it a secret felt like a slight betrayal. But we barely knew each other, and assured myself I could tell him later.
“What would you like to know? I gave you the gist last night.” He sounded friendly and open, like he didn’t mind sharing the details. That was good.
I took a breath, contemplating how to phrase what I really wanted to suggest. Tension gathered inside me and I felt my shoulders rise. I thought of my career, of what it would be like to actually travel to write—to live my dream. It was worth whateverresponse Archie might give me here to shut me down. “This might be too forward,” I went on. “But I wondered if you’d let me help you solve it.”
The eyebrows shot up at that, and he chuckled before taking a sip of his whiskey.
He put the glass down and then met my eyes again. “I told you last night, I think we’re at the end of it.”
I nodded. “The scripts. Revenge.”
“Yep.”
“What if that’s not it?”
“What makes you think it isn’t?”
I lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “The things you told me about your uncle. He just doesn’t sound like the kind of guy who’d set that all up for money, you know?” I’d thought about this all day, the story winding through my head and feeling somehow incomplete. “If Marvin was a storyteller, there was no way he’d be satisfied with an ambiguous ending to his life’s final tale, would he?”
“I guess not.” Archie considered that for a minute. “Yeah, you’re right, actually. But that’s kind of where everything has led us.”
I tilted my head, excitement growing as I saw him considering. “What if you missed something?”
He frowned at me then and let out a long sigh. “We might have, I guess. I mean, we were building a resort while picking up the clues. But I’ll be honest. I’m kind of ready to let it go. I think it’s run its course either way.”
