“‘For the next clue,’” he read aloud, “‘return to your roots and to the place shown in the photo.’”
“Yep.”
“He doesn’t say where to look once you return there.”
“I’m guessing that the setting of the photo is a clue. Knowing him, he’s hidden the next envelope in the bookcase you see there. Or maybe it’s taped to the underside of the coffee table. Or the rug.”
“When can we go?”
“I’ll have to juggle my schedule a bit, but I might be able to leave work a few hours early on Thursday afternoon.”
He’d have preferred they drive there now, tonight. But she’d made it clear that she didn’t want him to rush her. “Okay. Do you have a safe here at the house?”
“No.”
“I’ll buy one for you. Then you can keep this and everything else that has to do with the treasure hunt inside.”
“You think that’s necessary?”
“I’m not sure. I only know that I probably won’t regret it if we’re too careful. But I might regret it if we’re not careful enough.”
She blinked at him.
“Which reminds me,” he said, “before I go tonight, I’d like to take a look at your security.”
“No problem.”
“Do you have an alarm system?”
“Yes. And deadbolts on the doors. That’s about it.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Luke, my father might not have been in his right mind in his final moments. He was in pain . . . having a heart attack. Who knows how much oxygen was getting to his brain? I don’t think we should set too much store on what he told you when he said the hunt might put me in danger. He’s always been concerned about my safety. Maybe his generalized worry got tangled with thoughts about the treasure hunt and blown out of proportion.”
“I don’t think so. His words were clear, and he was looking right at me.”
“Well, even if he was lucid, it’s still possible that we won’t encounter any threats. Dad might have been wrong about the danger. Or maybe we won’t be able to solve the hunt. In which case, danger won’t be a factor.”
What?“There’s a chance we won’t be able to solve the hunt?”
“During my teenage years, it wasn’t unusual for me to get stuck on a clue. When that happened, I’d ask my dad for a hint.”
His jaw hardened. Heneededa new start in Montana like he needed air. There, he could live exactly how he wanted: alone, on his own terms, surrounded by rugged nature. He and Finley hadto solve this hunt. “Ed created this particular hunt knowing he wouldn’t be around to give hints.”
“Even so, I’m afraid I might get stumped.”
“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.”
They worked together to set the outdoor table after she announced that she enjoyed eating outside more than inside, even if it meant “bundling up.”
Again, weird. But her house, her decision.
Back in the kitchen, she spooned food into serving bowls, then handed them to him to transfer outside. A yellow-colored rice dish. Beans. Bread rolls. Then the grilled vegetables.
They sat across from each other at the table on her deck. More food than the two of them could eat and five little cacti filled the surface between them.
Awkwardly, he waited for her to pick up her fork and begin.
“I’ll pray over the food,” she stated.
Oh. That was the hold-up.
