“So nice.”
She regarded him doubtfully. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t think Uncle Robbie knows anything about the treasure hunt.”
Right. Which was why Robbie called her to set up lunch right after she started looking for clues.
“Robbie and June,” she went on, “their two kids, and their grandkids are the only family I have left. They’ve been wonderful to me. I love them, and I trust them. I amnotsuspicious of them.”
“You don’t have to be. So long as one of us is suspicious of them, that’ll be enough.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I want to get a read on him,” he repeated.
“I’ll text you when Robbie and I are finishing up. You can come by and talk with him briefly.”
“Afterward, let’s walk over to Misty River’s visitors bureau. They might be able to help you find your historic train depot.”
“Absolutely.”
“Good.”
“Ifyou’re nice to my uncle,” she added.
CHAPTER TEN
The interior of the Green Eatery smelled like grass and pineapple. Luke immediately spotted Finley and her uncle sitting at a metal table next to a wall the color of peas.
He approached, assessing the older man. Ed’s features had been bold and memorable. Robbie’s were plainer and less wrinkled. Ed had sported a full head of long white curls. For a man of eighty, Robbie also had a lot of hair. But his was gray, and he kept it short and tidy. Like Ed, Robbie had a lean frame. He’d dressed today in chinos and a striped button-down.
Clearly, Finley and her uncle had already finished eating. Their lunch plates and silverware had been removed. Only two near-empty glasses of iced tea remained.
“Luke,” Finley said in welcome, “I’d like to introduce you to my uncle, Robbie Sutherland.”
Robbie stood, and they shook hands.
“Nice to meet you,” Luke told him.
“Likewise.”
By the time they stepped apart, Finley had pulled up a chair for him.
“My brother told me all about you,” Robbie said as they took their seats. “Your friendship meant a lot to him.”
“It meant a lot to me, too. What was it like to grow up with Ed?”
A sad smile moved across the older man’s face. “Great. Always eventful. I was lucky.”
“Tell Luke the story about the time Dad talked you into plugging the neighbor’s sink and turning the faucet on full blast.”
In his measured way, Robbie relayed the story.
“He can mask what he’s thinking and feeling,” Finley had said about Robbie. Luke could see the evidence of that. Robbie was self-controlled. Distinguished.
Luke had been around plenty of dangerous men and criminals, both at the chop shop and in prison. He’d become pretty good at recognizing people who fell into those categories, even when they were soft-spoken and wore button-down shirts.
He didn’t recognize Robbie as dangerous or as a criminal. However, he did have the sense that Robbie might be more complex than he appeared. Most people couldn’t keep a secret. Robbie seemed like the type who could take a secret to the grave.
“We’d better head out, Luke,” Finley said a few minutes later.
