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Chapter 19
Trent grimaced as cold steel pressed against his back. “Banks, how delightful. You came for Christmas.”
“You’re Mr. Banks?” Liberty asked.
With a chuckle, Mr. Banks said, “I see that my reputation precedes me.”
The sound of other men laughing ricocheted through Trent’s ears. So he had a couple men with him, maybe security guys. Trent put his hand on his Glock.
“Hey now, none of that. Hands away from the gun.” It wasn’t Mr. Banks who said it; it was one of his goons.
Mr. Banks spoke airily. “I like this town. I like this town a lot. Did I tell you fellas? This town decorates and has house parties all the time. It was the perfect night to come and give our little Trent a message.”
The pistol dug deeper into Trent’s back.
“Turn around,” said Banks. “I would never shoot a man in the back.”
Trent slowly faced him. He kept Liberty’s hand in his, tugging her behind him.
Banks looked at each of them in turn, then focused on Liberty. “Are you going to stand for that? He’s acting like he’s in control of you. I mean, you don’t like that, right?”
Anger surged inside of Trent. Had Banks been spying on him?
Banks was close enough that if there weren’t two other men with guns of their own trained on Liberty, Trent would take one step forward and throw a punch at the guy. He imagined how Banks would crumple to that type of blow. It was certainly cathartic. “What do you want, Banks? You could have killed us if that’s what you wanted.”
Banks nodded. He waggled his gun at Trent. “I need to know where we’re at in our treasure hunt. Because,” he said, pointing to Liberty, “I think she’s become a distraction for you, Trent.”
Trent’s gut had been right: Banks must be behind the break-ins. Despite his better judgment, he closed the gap between him and Banks and grabbed him by the shirt. “You jerk.”
The sound of pistols cocking resonated in the air.
Banks laughed in his face. “You’d better let me go, Mr. Stone, or I’ll have one of my guys take her. Is that what you want?”
Trent measured the cost and dropped the man. He backed up, keeping Liberty behind him.
“I thought you would see it my way,” Banks said smugly. He wagged his gun at them again. “Did you see my new piece? I don’t know if you know this, but this is the gun that makes or breaks people.” In a very surreal moment, Mr. Banks actually posed with the gun, as if they’d suddenly fallen into an FBI or Bond movie. He winked at Trent. “I’m hoping you tell Brooks that I’m better at posing as FBI than he is.”
All Trent wanted was to shove this man’s face into the pavement. The guys with him looked just as irritated as Trent felt. That was interesting.
“Have you been breaking into my house?” Liberty burst out, as if just realizing this.
Mr. Banks stopped posing and peered at her. He tsked his tongue. “I guess you haven’t told our girl here that when the men are talking business, she should keep her mouth shut.” He glared at her. “You’ve been distracting my boy. He is supposed to be searching for treasure, and instead he’s out doing fun little cutesy things with you.”
The fact that Banks had been keeping tabs on them didn’t sit well with Trent, but Liberty was higher on the priority list. He had to get her to safety first. “I’m still looking. You know I’m looking.”
Banks’s face turned somber and he crossed his arms, giving Trent a sweeping look. “I know. Your other siblings have given up. Ridiculous. But you and I,” he said, pointing back and forth between them, “you and I don’t give up, do we, Trent?”
Was he insane? Trent shared no common ground with this murdering, plundering, egotistical, arrogant billionaire. But Trent had to get Liberty out of here, so he played along. “True.” He tapped his chin. “I’ve been ticked at them too. They just leave, act like Mom and Dad didn’t give us some grand adventure.”
Banks threw his hands up. “Right? Thank you. The Stone siblings are supposed to find this treasure together.” He gestured toward him, tsking his tongue. “And you’re the only one here that’s really looking for it. We are kindred spirits, Trent Stone. So what have you got for me?”
The only way out of this situation was through it. “The shoals. I think there is something out there.” He tried to think of something plausible that he could tell Mr. Banks without outright revealing anything. “You probably know that my family came in possession of the bottle that had the same mark that the piece of gold has on it.”
“Right. The one Oliver Brown brought to you guys at Marshall’s wedding.”
So he was privy to a lot of the details. In a way, Trent would have been disappointed otherwise—the man had spent the better part of the last year and a half searching for the gold and tormenting his family. “Exactly. If you look at the numbers my dad wrote down, I am pretty certain they had something to do with the shoals.” That wasn’t at all true. He and Brooks had ruled that out a long time ago, but he had to say something convincing to this jerk.
“Then why haven’t you searched out there?”
