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Dakota quickly jumped in, trying to steer the conversation back. “Shifty, what else can you tell us about the treasure or the man who tried to steal it from Syd?”
Shifty scratched his chin thoughtfully, as if digging through the recesses of his mind. “Not much, just that the guy was supposed to go with Syd that summer when he went out chasin’ ghost stories in the Caribbean. For some reason, he bailed at the last minute. They met in some chat room back in the day and did a bunch of research together. They were plannin’ to meet up, do the hunt on the high seas, and split the gold fifty-fifty.”
I watched as Dakota processed that, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. She was good at this—keeping her cool, playing the part, asking the right questions. Normally, I’d be the one doing that, but something about this situation had thrown me off balance. The longer we sat here, the more I realized I was out of my element. But Dakota? She was thriving.
“So when the other guy didn’t show, Syd went out to find it himself?” Dakota clarified.
“Sure did,” Shifty said, nodding slowly. “And it worked out great for him, too, until that jerk of a partner tried to kill him to get the gold. That’s how Roy ended up with it. Syd knew Roy could keep it safe.”
My jaw tightened as I listened, the details clicking together in my mind like pieces of a puzzle. Dakota was doing the talking,but I was taking mental notes, piecing together this story that was quickly turning from an odd case into something much darker.
“Why are you askin’ about all this now?” Shifty’s voice broke through my thoughts, his eyes narrowing again as he looked between us. “Does that mean you found Syd?”
“Syd’s… missin’?” Dakota asked, the surprise clear in her voice.
I scratched my jaw, my mind racing. “You’re sure you don’t know the name of the other guy?”
Shifty sighed, shaking his head. “Nope. I might’ve at one point, but shoot, this all happened darn near twenty years ago.”
“That’s how long Syd’s been missin’ too?” Dakota pressed.
“Oh, no, Syd’s been around,” Shifty replied, waving his hand dismissively. “But he went missin’ right around the time Roy passed on. We missed him at the funeral… and from there, he hasn’t been seen or heard from since.”
I exchanged a glance with Dakota. This was getting weirder by the second.
After a few more minutes of small talk and awkward exchanges, we finally wrapped up our conversation with Shifty and Bernice. As much as I wanted to rush out of there, I kept my movements slow and polite, knowing Dakota had a way of navigating these small-town interactions that I clearly lacked.
By the time we made it back to the truck, I could feel the tension easing from my shoulders, but something about the whole encounter lingered, and not in a good way.
I opened the door for Dakota, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, completely comfortable in a space that, until now, had only ever felt like mine. The strange part wasn’t that she fit in the truck—it was how much it felt like she belonged there. She settled in like this wasn’t just a temporary spot, but like she was meant to be there, crossing her legs and leaningback like we’d done this a hundred times before. That unsettled feeling crept back in, a low hum in the back of my mind that I couldn’t shake.
After shutting her door, I rounded the truck, pulling out my phone as I went and dialing Colt.
“Okay, I’ve got some news about the case,” I said, sighing as I gripped the door handle. My mind was spinning with everything Shifty had told us—about the treasure, about Syd, and about this mysterious partner who had tried to kill him. There was a lot to unpack, but for now, I had to focus on the task at hand.
Colt’s response was immediate. “Cool. When will you be back at the B&B?”
I glanced through the window, catching sight of Dakota again. She was tapping her fingers on her leg, humming some tune I couldn’t hear from out here. The ease with which she sat in my truck was messing with me, and I hated how natural it seemed. That seat had always been reserved for Colt, or Austin when I took him on trips. We were always moving, never settling down, and suddenly, the idea of her there—riding shotgun as if she were part of my routine—made my throat tighten.
“It’ll be later,” I muttered into the phone, pushing those thoughts aside. “I’ve gotta go have dinner at Dakota’s family’s place.”
A laugh crackled through the phone. “Wait, what? Why?”
“Long story,” I grumbled, gripping the door handle tighter. “But if anyone in town asks, we’re dating.”
Colt laughed again, clearly enjoying this way more than I was. “Okay, no way, I’m gonna need more info.”
I groaned, knowing full well that Colt was going to eat this up later. “I’ll tell you tonight. I gotta get in the truck and head over there. Actually, know what? I’m gonna swing by and pick up Austin. I’ll use him as a buffer.”
“What about me? You don’t wanna bring me?” he asked, the humor thick in his voice.
“Why, so you can enjoy my suffering in person instead of just when I tell you about it later?”
“Obviously.”
I shook my head, a smirk tugging at my lips despite the situation. “Nope. Eat Martha’s pot roast and leave me to suffer in peace.”
“Tuck—” Colt started, but I was already halfway into the truck.
