And just like that, rain started to fall on them.
A light rain was coming down by the time Scout parked the jeep in the Sand Beach parking lot.
“Ah, Beehive Trail,” Chase said, tapping his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I should’ve known.”
“Beehive Mountain,” Naki said. “There was no trail in the mid-1800s. That’s one of the reasons these clues are difficult for modern ears to understand.”
“Right,” Chase said. “Of course. But we can’t go up there in the rain.”
“It’s just a passing shower,” Naki said. “No thunder or lightning.”
“Still, the rocks will be slippery. I’ve done this hike before. To me, it’s as challenging as Precipice Trail. There are places up there that are pure iron rungs and ladders.”
“You’re right on both counts,” Naki said. “It is challenging and you can’t do it when you’re wearing the wrong shoes.” He opened the car door. “But I can. I’ll be back in less than an hour.”
Scout watched him dart through the parking lot until he reached the trailhead. “Really? Just an hour?”
“No way will he be back in an hour,” Chase said. “It’s not a long hike, but it always takes me a good three hours.”
Scout sighed, watching the raindrops hit the windshield.
“Actually, Scout, I’m glad we have some time alone. I wanted to explain why I took the envelope from the girl.”
“Her name is Maisie.” She turned around in the car to face him. “I’m listening.”
“My newspaper. TheGazettehas been in our family for six generations. Six! It’s our legacy. And ... it’s failing.” His voice cracked on the last word. “Small-town newspapers matter. They’ve built towns, toppled corrupt governments, exposed scandals, and ignited revolutions. They’ve given a voice to the unheard and held the powerful accountable. And I’ve been watching my legacy collapse.”
“Your newspaper has done all that?”
“Well, no, not exactly. But small-town newspapers, in general, have had a big impact on their communities.” He bracedhis elbows on the front seat, leaning forward. “Scout, you get how I feel, don’t you? You’re as devoted to the parks as I am to my paper.”
Oh, ouch. He’d found her Achilles’ heel. More than he could realize.
“But this story, Scout ... it’s the lifeline I’ve been praying for. It’s given me hope.” In his eyes was a plea. He wanted things to be good between them again. “Surely you can understand a feeling of ... utter desperation, can’t you?”
Could she?
She looked over at the path that led to Beehive Trail. The air in the jeep had grown stuffy. Stifling. The rain was hitting the roof of the jeep hard, like pebbles. All of a sudden, she felt weirdly teary.
Chase’s words circled in her head:Surely you can understand a feeling of utter desperation.
Surely she could. All too well.
She had to get out of this jeep, get away from Chase Fletcher. “I think I’m going to go help Naki find that gold.” She opened the door and dashed over to the trailhead.
Scout squinted at the Beehive Trail sign, rainwater streaming into her eyes. A low-flying plane rumbled a low growl as it passed overhead, as if to warn her to head back. Should she? Maybe she should.
But heading back meant sitting with Chase Fletcher in the car. If she just kept walking, she’d bump into Naki, hopefully on his return trip. Because she wasn’t quite ready for climbing up Beehive Trail.
Scout was deathly afraid of heights—not that anyone knew. She’d never breathed a word. Instead, she forced herself through low-elevation climbs, signed up for indoor rock gyms, even earned a basic certification in rappelling, just to prove she could. All of it carefully staged, never more than a few feet offthe ground. She’d mastered the art of looking confident while quietly panicking, all thanks to her simple, ironclad strategy: Don’t look down. It worked. Mostly.
The day she found out she’d been assigned to Baker Island had been a quiet victory. God’s gift! She could remain at sea level.
Her counselor, Elizabeth, hadn’t just nudged—she’d practically bulldozed Scout toward facing her irrational fear of heights. And where better than Acadia, she told Scout on their last Zoom, the very place where her acrophobia had taken root?
“You can’t go through life avoiding the view,” Elizabeth liked to remind her. “Especially for someone who chose to become a ranger.” As if Scout neededthatpointed out. “The best views come after the hardest climbs.”
Annoyingly hard to argue with.
