“That’s stupid. There will always be women out there who think your ugly mug is attractive.”
Arthur snorted. He could always rely on Sam to make him laugh.
A tap on the door and Gretchen poked her head in. “Everything OK?” She handed him a packet of wet wipes.
Her smile again. Like a warm hug. “Yeah. Thanks.” Now he thought about it, his chest was a little sticky.
“Great. I can’t guarantee you won’t get requests for photos later if you go swimming again.” She hesitated and then added, “It might be worth using the wipes to clean any residual suncream from your leg, otherwise you might get a rash.”
When he nodded, she headed back to the deck and began chatting with passengers.
“She’s single,” Sam said.
His heart jumped. “What?”
“She doesn’t have a partner. Not sure what the story is about Jordan’s father, though.”
“He’s out of the picture. Hasn’t seen them in years.” The words had left his mouth before he realised it was the wrong thing to say.
Sam smirked. “How do you know?”
“It’s no big deal. Gretchen mentioned it yesterday when she took me to the pony club.”
“Sure.” He continued to grin. “Anyway, she’s a great woman—if you’re interested.”
He’d not considered getting romantically involved with anyone in a long time. The army had been his mistress and he couldn’t be like his father and abandon his family whenever the army called. Better he be alone. “Don’t you have a boat to steer?”
He laughed. “Yeah. Join me up top when you’ve recovered.”
After Sam had gone, Arthur allowed his smile to show and started cleaning his chest.
Chapter 8
That night Arthur managed to convince Sam to take Penelope out for dinner and he was finally on his own. He spread his notes out over the table and flicked open his notebook, pausing at the sketches. The temptation to draw the manta ray he’d seen that day was strong, but so was the pull to solve the mystery of the treasure.
Mission first. That had been his mantra his whole life.
But he was no longer in the army. Was there a ticking clock to find the treasure? Was it arrogant of him to think he could solve it when no one else had?
Maybe he could do both. Set an alarm, spend an hour sketching while the image was still clear in his head and then move on to the journals. That way he could draw without worrying about Sam arriving home and interrupting him.
He smiled, set the alarm, and picked up his pencil.
The beep of his alarm sounded what felt like only moments later, but he had the full sketch of the manta ray done, its belly exposed as it did its backwards somersault. He smiled, feeling the motion of the animal in the sketch.
Satisfied, he put the drawing aside and went through Amy’s notes again from the beginning. She’d printed off a satellite map of the Ridge and next to buildings she’d marked dates of when they’d been built. Then she’d highlighted all the possible options for shelters, like caves and outcrops.
In the margins she’d writtenstorm surge?
He nodded. It was possible that the cyclone had exposed areas which had since been covered in sand, which would make finding it again next to impossible.
But Lilian must have left more clues.
He didn’t know why she didn’t just leave a map. They were isolated out here, even now, a hundred and fifty years later. It wasn’t likely someone would walk into the house and steal it.
Lilian would have had a horse or camel, and maybe a cart for transport. They couldn’t have carried it far, which meant closer to the coast was the best option.
