And then she archived the email, shut down her laptop, and headed out the door.
Eight
Nature, in her indifference, makes no distinction between good and evil.
—Anatole France, literary critic
Maisie perched on the edge of Pops’s open windowsill, her sneakers tapping lightly against the wall as she tried to seem casual when she felt anything but. This was so exciting! She wanted to pinch herself. This would be the kind of story that she and Frankie would tell their future grandchildren.We helped solve one of the greatest NPS mysteries of all time.
Her eyes kept darting around the room, wondering if anyone else felt as thrilled about the day as she did. Scout stood at attention near Pops’s desk, all crisp lines and perfectly tucked-in uniform. Maisie tilted her head. Scout didn’t even realize how pretty she was. That long hair, hanging heavy and straight. Big blue eyes. Porcelain-perfect skin. If she swapped the ranger green uniform for something with a little sparkle—or even just jeans and a nice top—she’d have guys lining up.
Maisie sighed. That kind of effortless prettiness was so unfair. She thought of how early she’d woken up today to try andstraighten her unruly hair. How much foundation she’d put over her face to cover her zillions of freckles.Not fair.
She shot a look at Frankie. He was slouched in a chair, one hiking boot over the other. A bandana covered his head, messy hair sticking out underneath, and his wrinkled ranger uniform hung open at the neck like he’d just rolled out of bed.Adorable.
Her eyes flitted to Chase, who leaned against the doorframe, hands stuffed in his pockets. So super cute. No wonder she had let her guard down at the coffee shop. How could anyone who looked like him be such a jerk? But he had been. And yet ... after spending time with him last evening and hearing of his desperation to save his newspaper, her opinion was softening. People did stupid things when they were desperate. She’d never exactly felt that kind of desperation, but she’d seen plenty of it in movies.
Her gaze landed on the Penobscot man. Wabi or Naki or Dana or something like that. Even though he dressed supercazh, he gave off a fierce vibe, like he’d just stepped out of an action movie as the hero no one dared mess with. Maybe it was those strong cheekbones. Those dark, stick-like eyebrows. Or how tall he was. But the guy should smile more.
Pops was at his desk, reading through some stuff about the lighthouse keeper that the Penobscot man had given him. Bored, Maisie swept her gaze over the room, noticing small details. Chase kept stealing little side glances at Scout. And that Penobscot man was doing the same thing. Cutting their eyes over at Scout now and then, like they wanted to make sure she was still there. Seriously? Were both of these guys sweet on Scout? Not fair! And Scout seemed oblivious to them. She had positioned herself so that she didn’t face either of them.
Pops’s voice broke into Maisie’s important thoughts. “Naki, thank you for digging up this info. It’s very ... enlightening.”
“I’d like a copy of that information,” Chase said, holding up his notepad.
Everyone glared at him. Even Scout.
“Look,” Chase said, “I realize the circumstances here aren’t ideal, but the story is going to break. That Enzo character is a wild card.”
“You’re the wild card,” Frankie said under his breath.
Chase heard. “I’m not a wild card. Don’t forget that I called Ranger Rivers and told him what I knew about the envelope.”
Maisie’s jaw dropped wide open. “You only knew about it because you stole it from me!”
Frankie gave a vigorous nod. “And you were trying to cut a deal with the chief in exchange for the story.”
“I’m a newspaperman. That’s what we do. We go to any length to get a story.”
“Any length?” Naki said in that deep voice of his.
That sure took the hot air out of Chase Fletcher. He almost looked like he’d been stung by a bee. Maisie decided she might like Naki, after all.
Chase turned to Naki. “I’ve given my word to Ranger Rivers that I won’t report anything on this until Monday morning.”
“And after that?” Frankie said, a look of disgust on his face.
“After that,” Chase said, “all bets are off. By then, Enzo will have sold the story. But at least theBar Harbor Gazettewill report it with accuracy.”
Pops looked at Scout. “That only gives us a couple of days. You’d better get started on cracking those clues.”
Everyone started toward the door until Pops said, “Frankie and Maisie, hold up.”
Frankie froze mid-step. “What? Why?”
“I’ve got something else for you to do.” Pops’s tone was firm, almost cold. “Something that is far removed from hunting for gold.”
Maisie’s jaw dropped. “But we’re trying to help!”
