Soon Edge and Mateo were also working shirtless, and since she was a woman and not yet dead, she allowed herself to enjoy the view. Eventually, they were able to clear enough of the floor of debris to get into the chamber.
Unfortunately, the room was empty, as was the other room Abby had spotted. Storerooms, perhaps, or servants’ quarters, without a smattering of gold or much of anything else.
They took a break to eat and hydrate in the shade of the trees where the coolers were sitting, and Abby spotted Skye walking toward them.
“Where’s Trace?” Gage asked, glancing behind Skye as she reached the trees. “I thought you were both coming in.” They were using handheld wireless radios to communicate out here where there was no cell service.
“We thought it would be safer for one of us to come in while the other keeps watch.”
“What’s going on?”
“You’ve got company,” Skye said.
“How many?”
“Two men.”
“Cartel?” Gage asked.
“I don’t think so. We sent them packing, but they seemed to just be watching.” She grabbed a bottle of water out of the chest, twisted off the lid, and took a long swallow. “They looked more like farmers than cartel soldiers. But it’s better to keep an eye out just in case.”
Abby hadn’t really had a chance to get acquainted with Skye, but she liked the woman’s confidence and her fierce work ethic. Like Edge, Skye and Trace both took their jobs very seriously.
Abby felt safer having them around.
A couple of times she’d noticed Edge watching Skye when she wasn’t looking. With her wavy dark hair and sculpted features, she was a beautiful woman, no matter her tough exterior, but whatever Edge was thinking, he didn’t let it show.
Skye ate a packet of tuna and some crackers, grabbed a candy bar, and left to change places with Trace. He arrived a few minutes later and relayed the same story, but he seemed a little more tense.
“Could be just a couple of farm workers from down the road, or they could be cartel scouts from town who figured out where we are and are keeping us under surveillance.”
“Let’s hope it’s farm workers.”
Trace ate and hydrated, grabbed a snack to take with him, and headed for the Jeep. While he and Skye resumed their patrols, Abby and the rest of the crew made a last search of the rooms beneath the house.
Even when dusk settled in and the tired group headed back without success, Abby’s hopes remained high. Tomorrow they would open the walls of other empty chambers and continue the search. The underground area could be as large as the house, so they had only gotten started.
Gage would be coordinating their efforts with the information King had given them. Sooner or later, they would find the treasure—or so she hoped.
They arrived back in Alux’ob, but instead of eating at the cantina, which could be asking for trouble, Mateo had made a deal early that morning with a village woman to bring breakfast and supper to the hotel each day.
Blanca, a round woman with a long gray braid, arrived withqueso rellenos—balls of edam cheese stuffed with minced pork, raisins, almonds, and olives—topped withk’ool blancosauce and accompanied by tortillas and beans. The meal was served in the spare hotel room they used as an office and a place for Carlos to sleep.
Though the food was delicious, Abby was too tired to eat more than a few bites. Even sleeping on the sagging mattress didn’t sound all that bad, not when Gage would be stretched out beside her.
She glanced in his direction. His face was freshly sun-bronzed, making his blue eyes even bluer. His dark hair was streaked with golden highlights. Instead of looking tired, he looked invigorated.
Abby caught the hot gleam in his eyes, and her exhaustion faded, shifting to anticipation.
Unfortunately, when Gage opened the door and she flipped on the overhead bulbs, illuminating the bedroom, an envelope lay in the middle of the bed. Abby walked over and picked it up. Pulling out a folded sheet of paper, she read the words.
Her heart jerked as her eyes flashed to Gage’s. She could feel the color leaching out of her face, and her knees went weak. Clutching the letter, she sank down on the edge of the bed.
Gage strode toward her. “What is it?”
“I-it’s a letter addressed to me. It says . . . it says King is alive.”
Gage grabbed the sheet of paper out of her hand and scanned the contents. “What the hell?”
