When the service ended, Nash kept her hand in his as they made their way outside, stopping occasionally to exchange pleasantries with people he knew.
Amy was impressed by how easily he navigated these social waters, his friendly demeanor never seeming forced or false.
They were almost to the parking lot when a familiar voice stopped Amy in her tracks. “Professor Blair! What a pleasant surprise.”
Dr. Martinez stood near the church entrance, dressed in an impeccable suit, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Nash’s posture shifted subtly, moving closer to Amy’s side in a protective stance that wasn’t lost on Dr. Martinez.
“Dr. Martinez,” Amy greeted, trying to keep her voice neutral. “I didn’t know you attended this church.”
“Oh, I don’t,” he replied smoothly. “I was just meeting with Pastor Evans about a university fundraiser. But what a fortunate coincidence to run into you.” His gaze shifted to Nash, then back to Amy. “I’ve been trying to reach you. There’s some new information about your thesis research that I think you’ll find … illuminating.”
Every instinct in Amy’s body screamed danger. The university was closed on Sundays. Dr. Martinez had never shown any interest in fundraisers before. And most tellingly, Pastor Evans had been standing at the door saying goodbye to parishioners—he couldn’t have been meeting with Dr. Martinez.
“That sounds interesting,” she managed, feeling Nash’s grip tighten on her hand. “What kind of information?”
Dr. Martinez’s smile thinned. “Perhaps we could discuss it at my office later? Say, three this afternoon?”
Nash stepped forward slightly. “I’d be happy to drive Sadie to campus,” he offered, his tone friendly but firm. “Her ankle’s still bothering her from our hike yesterday.”
A flash of annoyance crossed Dr. Martinez’s face before his bland smile returned. “Of course. The more, the merrier.” He checked his watch with exaggerated precision. “I really must begoing. Three, Professor Blair. Don’t be late—this information is quite … time sensitive.”
With a curt nod to Nash, he strode away, his posture rigid.
“That was weird,” Nash muttered once Dr. Martinez was out of earshot.
“Very weird. And why would he be meeting with Pastor Evans about a fundraiser on a Sunday?”
“He wouldn’t,” Nash said grimly. “He’s following us.”
Amy’s stomach clenched. “Do you think he knows something about the gold? About the Ferrantes?”
“I don’t know,” Nash admitted, guiding her toward his truck. “But I don’t like the coincidence. First the trail, now the church? And what ‘time-sensitive’ information could he possibly have about your thesis?”
As they climbed into the truck, Amy voiced the fear that had been growing since they’d spotted Dr. Martinez on the mountain. “What if he knows who I really am?”
Nash started the engine but didn’t put the truck in gear, turning to face her instead. “Even if he does, he doesn’t know that we know about the Ferrantes’ connection to the Olympus Foundation, or about our search for the gold. Let’s keep it that way.”
“So we’re going to meet him at three?”
Nash nodded, his expression determined. “Absolutely. But first, we’re going to prepare.”
They drove back to Nash’s house in thoughtful silence, Nash still occasionally checking his phone when they stopped at red lights. Whatever his family wanted, it seemed urgent.
“You can call them back, you know,” Amy offered. “Your family. It seems important.”
Nash smiled, reaching over to take her hand. “It can wait a little longer.”
As they pulled onto Nash’s street, Amy was startled to see a large, dark van parked in front of his house. Several vehicles were behind it—a truck she recognized as similar to Nash’s, another larger truck, and what looked like a police cruiser.
“What the—” Nash muttered, his brow furrowing. “That’s Porter’s truck. And Chance’s cruiser.”
Amy felt a surge of anxiety. “Is something wrong?”
Nash shook his head, confusion etched across his features. “I don’t know.”
They pulled into the driveway, and before Nash could turn off the engine, the front door of his house burst open.
