Amy took a sip of water. “What about the Stones? Were they still involved?”
“Always,” Nash confirmed. “Our families have been working together on this from the beginning. Brooks Stone is FBI, and he’s been unofficially tracking the gold through various channels. Marshall’s a pilot—he’s flown us all over the country following leads. And Trey, Trent, and Hunter were all Navy SEALs at one point. They keep a close interest in it. Plus, their sister, Kensi—Trey’s twin—is an attorney. She had a lot of interactions with Banks before he blew the house up. Her husband, Tim, is also a sheriff in South Port, and they’ve all been in on this.”
“Dang.”
“Dang is right.”
“What about Cheyenne?”
Nash couldn’t help the proud smile that crossed his face. “She was supposed to be on spring break in South Port, but she ended up helping Micah Jamison—he’s Trey’s stepson—track down the next clue.”
“Which was …?”
“A letter from Truman Birch to his brother, Raine.”
Amy’s confusion was clear. “Who?”
“Raine Birch came to South Port and was a good friend to the Stone family. Then his stepbrother, Truman, was another gold hunter—a dangerous one. He died during a confrontation at our ranch.”
“Oh my gosh, I think I read about that. This is so crazy.”
“It is.”
“But wait, he’s the one that had the letter from Bill or with Bill, right? What did it say again?”
“It pointed to Salt Lake City.” Nash set down his fork, his plate nearly empty. “Specifically, it mentioned Porter Rockwell and a possible connection to the broken arrow symbol we’d been finding everywhere. That’s why I got involved—I was already living here, so it made sense for me to check it out. But the letter was from a long time ago. Like twenty years ago, when both of our fathers were alive.”
“Wow.” Amy was quiet for a moment. “And now we’ve found one of the symbols in a cave on Mount Olympus, which is owned by a foundation connected to the Ferrantes—the same family my father was going to testify against.” She shook her head in disbelief. “It can’t be a coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Nash said firmly. “Not when it comes to this gold. Too many people have died over it.”
A shadow crossed Amy’s face. “Like my father. Like Bill.”
“Yes.” Nash reached across the table, taking her hand again. “Hey, we’re going to figure this out. All of it. I promise.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Your promises.”
“Like I said, we have resources the Ferrantes don’t. We have the Stones, we have Brooks’s FBI connections, and most importantly—” He squeezed her hand. “—we have you and your research.”
“And we have an attorney who cooks a mean steak,” Amy added, her smile turning more genuine.
Nash laughed. “I’m a man of many talents.”
They stared into each other’s eyes.
She squeezed his hand. “And we have God.”
Nash liked that she’d brought that up. “We do. We do.”
“So what’s our next move?” she asked.
“I think we need to look more closely at the foundation’s property records. There might be something in the original land transfer that gives us a clue.” Nash tilted his head, considering. “And we should try to figure out what Dr. Martinez is up to. Did he follow us to the cave, or was he already there? Does he know about the broken arrow symbol?”
Amy nodded, absently pushing her remaining vegetables around her plate. “I have access to the university’s archives. There might be something there about Porter Rockwell’s connections to the area.”
“Tomorrow, then?” Nash suggested. “We can start at the university, then check the county records office for information on the Olympus Foundation.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Amy smiled; then her expression turned teasing. “Is that our first official date, then? Digging through dusty archives and property records?”
