“Possibly the answer to where the treasure is.” He reached inside and withdrew a worn, leather-bound book, then his hand went inside again and extracted a dusty stack of yellow papers. “Now we can leave.”
ChapterEight
Andrew placed the stone back into the wall, and without opening the book or leafing through the papers, waved for me to follow him into the dim tunnel. I would have peeked inside, but that was me, and maybe that wasn’t how archeologists acted when they found a new clue. Perhaps he needed special rubber gloves or clean hands before paging through it.
“What are those papers?” I asked.
“Letters from Augustine. The wax seal has a ship battling a sea serpent and the inscription ‘Non timeo. Inveniam viam meam ad vos’—I’m not afraid. I’ll find my way to you. It’s Pérez’s monogram.”
We made our way down the stonewalled corridor; Andrew’s small but powerful flashlight and my phone the only two light sources. The passage wasn’t as narrow as it’d first appeared, and Andrew and I could have walked side by side, but we didn’t. Instead I let him lead the way just in case there was some danger or booby traps. He was also great at removing thick gray curtains of cobwebs that hung across our path.
“What about the book?”
“I don’t know. It could be Jorge’s Bible.”
“It could also be a hollow-book safe with a cutout to hide things.”
“Could be.”
“Don’t you want to check it now?”
The curiosity boiled up inside me to the point that I wanted to rip the book from under his arm and check it myself.
“Yes, but I’ll go over everything once we’re in a safer place.”
“Can I help?”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. Where did that come from? I didn’t know how I could help him. I had no knowledge of Augustine’s history, besides what little Andrew had shared, but a small part of me wanted to be involved more with this—I cringed at the thought of what I was about to call it—adventure.
“Yes, but not here,” Andrew said. “Don’t forget we left a mess and probably should leave this town in a hurry.”
I checked my watch. It was five after five.Oomph. I smashed into Andrew’s hard body, dropping my phone.
“What’s wrong?” I picked up my phone and peered around him. The tunnel split into three. “Well, shit. Is this a maze?”
“I don’t think so.” Andrew tilted his head to the left, then to the right.
“So there are just different routes of escape? Where do they lead?”
He glanced at me with a smile. “Let’s find out.” After a beat, he went straight. I hurried after him.
“Why did you pick this way?”
“I don’t know. Just a hunch.”
Andrew was a confident man. Except for this morning when Richard and Brie had stopped at our table. The change in Andrew wasn’t just anger. There was some underlying alarm. Or maybe even hurt. Andrew had said Richard was looking for the same treasure, but my gut feeling was there was more to the story. It wasn’t only about the money or who discovered the historical artifacts.
“What’s your problem with Dr. Dickhead?” I said as we trekked through the tunnel. “And you’re in a church, so you can’t lie.”
“We’re no longer under the church. We’re under a different building now.”
We continued moving through the dark passage. Tree roots started catching my hair and grazing my bare shoulders, and my shoes caught on a few stones on the floor.
“Are you not going to answer my question?” I jabbed my finger into his extensive back.
“Are you not going to drop it?” A hint of irritation threaded through his voice.
“Nope.”
