Every other piece of jewelry in his grandfather’s inventory was accounted for except a diamond-and-emerald bracelet, as he’d discovered when he’d cross-checked his bounty against the list this morning.
Cursing the stupid bats, Steven ducked into the passageway where he’d found the man’s stash, flashlight aimed at the floor as he approached the crevice that had held the treasure.
If the flying creatures hadn’t unnerved him last night, he would never have been in such a rush to shove all the jewelry back into the bag, beat a hasty retreat—and apparently drop one precious item as he fled.
Waiting until tonight to come back and search for it may have been more prudent, but the thought of another trip out here in the dark turned his stomach. Besides, a daylight excursion wasn’t risky. He wasn’t likely to run into anyone, and he had a right to walk around his cousin’s property.
His beam picked up a sparkle, and he dropped to one knee.
Yes!
The bracelet was wedged under an overhang of jagged rock, where he must have kicked it as he fled.
He worked his fingers under the ledge and gently extracted the bracelet. Examined it.
It appeared to be fine, but he’d give it a more thorough inspection in the light.
After securing it in his shirt pocket, he retraced his route to the entrance of the cave. Stepped outside and filled his lungs with the fresh air.
Claustrophobia had never been one of his liabilities, but in the future he planned to walk a wide circle around small, enclosed spaces.
He started to reach for the bracelet to give it a once-over. Hesitated.
Maybe it would be smarter to go back down to the main path, find a brighter spot that would better highlight the gems. The dense trees by the cave entrance created deep shadows, and the angry clouds swirling overhead had snuffed out the weak light trying to filter through the branches.
Leaving the bracelet in his pocket, he descended the rocky, sloping trail.
Smiled.
At last his quest to recover the spoils of war his grandfather had claimed long ago in Germany had been completed.
And he didn’t share one iota of the guilt his long-dead relative must have nursed after the theft. Why else would the man have hidden his plunder from the world and decided not to profit from it?
What a fool.
His grandfather had taken these items from the enemy. All soldiers did that, even if it was against the rules of war.
Heck, look at all the artwork the Nazis had stolen. This was small potatoes compared to their pillaging.
Not that he cared about what had happened eighty-plus years ago.
All that mattered was that the stuff was his now.
He emerged from the narrow trail that led up to the cave, onto the main path to the lake.
It was definitely brighter here. A perfect place to examine the merchandise.
And gloat over a job well done.
THERE HE WAS.
As Cara rounded the curve in the path, she spotted Steven just up ahead, angled away from her as he examined an object in his hand.
Could be a buckeye. There were lots of them on the ground. Beautiful, with their egg-like shape, glossy-wood finish, and distinctive white eye on one end. She’d collected a few herself, near the perimeter of the yard at the edge of the woods, and put them in a small glass bowl to admire after sun drying them for several days.
Or perhaps he’d stumbled upon a piece of lace agate, like the one she’d found on her wanderings that rested on the windowsill in the cottage, sparkling in the sun.
He appeared to be engrossed in whatever he’d discovered and apparently didn’t hear her approach.
