Excellent.
“Very stealthy,” Nash says into my ear as we walk away.
I cut my eyes to him and unfold my map. “I don’t have time for stealth.” Or money for bail.
Cap drops onto a bench under the shade of a crepe myrtle dripping with magenta petals. He takes a short sniff of his oxygen then a long hit off Penny.
“Stop getting stoned, Cap,” I order. “I need you to focus.”
I look around the grounds, barely registering the impressiveness of the gardens. I need the gold to be here. I need it today and not in afortnight.
“Dad,” he corrects.
“Dad,” I grit out. “Stop getting stoned,Dad.”
He gives a pleased nod, Penny on his whiskery lips.
Nash says, “Four hundred and sixty-four acres with six miles of trails.” He points to the map. “Maybe we all need to get stoned.”
It’s not his fault he has money for gas and I don’t, but his grin tickles my middle finger just the same.
“We can’t dig up that many acres.” I blow my bangs out of my eyes. “Anson said in the letter that he was looking for a place where his wife could paint—where would that be?”
Cap adjusts his captain’s hat, takes another hit from Penny, then turns his attention to people watching, spinning his cane. Ignoring me.
Nash studies his map. “My money would be on Long Bridge or somewhere in the gardens.” He squints at said gardens. “But they’ve been so worked over the years—planting, renovating, maintenance—I’d be hard-pressed to believe we’d find anything original. Too handled.”
Around us, daffodils, azaleas, and roses—among seemingly a hundred other varieties of blooms—explode with color like they were planted solely to inspire. Even the thick, muggy air is on theme, rich with the scent of blooming gardenias. It really is beautiful. And extremely well-maintained. Nash is right. Any sort of clue would have never remained undiscovered for over one hundred and sixty years.
“What about the house?” I ask.
Beyond the gardens, a stately, white-columned home sits at the end of a lush lawn.
“Eh,” says Nash. “House was burned to the ground during the war by Union soldiers. Plus, it seems like Anson was more focused on the property itself. The element of nature.”
Taking the letter out of my purse, I reread the section about the plantation.
there is a plantation here with a garden bigger than our whole farm. the owner is a reverend and allowing visitors. I went for a forenoon looking for the perfect scene for you to paint and found it in unexpected colors of green, brown, white, and blue
I agree.
“Let’s go to this bridge then.”
“You go,” Cap says around Penny. “I’ve seen it all.”
“You’ve seen it all?” I sound as desperate as I feel. “Who cares? You wanted to do this with me, and I just paid over a hundred dollars for us to be here and—” I look at Nash. “My clients did. You need to see it again. For them. That’s the whole point.”
“Nash knows what to look for,” Cap says without budging. “I’ll wait.”
I clench my fist not holding the map and glare at him.
He smiles.
Smiles!
Like he doesn’t know how badly I need this.
Like every cent that leaves my bank account doesn’t shave another year off my life.
