And suddenly a beam from Chase’s flashlight was in her face. “You found it?”
“Chase! You’re blinding me.”
“Sorry!” He turned off his flashlight. “But did you find it? Is that what’s in your hand?”
“We think so.” She peered at Naki in amazement. “I just can’t believe you’re able to figure these clues out.” She glanced at the enormous granite wall. “And then to find where the gold has been stashed. You’re just...” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Words were logjammed in her brain. And thank goodness for that! Because what she wanted to say was,You’re just ... brilliant. Brave. Insightful. Fascinating. Complex.She hoped his wife knew what a keeper she had.
“Let me see your hands.”
She gave him the box and held out her scratched-up, bleeding hands. “Looks like I’ve been in a fight with a feral cat.”
“And lost.”
Her head jerked up. Had Naki made a joke? She burst out with a laugh, and then his face spread open in a smile.Good night.That smile! Overwhelming. Like trying to look at the sun. “I think I’ll start wearing gloves.”
A wave rolled in and splashed up above her boot line.
“Tide’s coming in,” Naki said. “We should go.” But he stood still, watching her with his typically measured calm, though there was something in his expression—something Scout couldn’t quite name.
“Well,” Chase said, leaning over the railing, “assuming there are gold coins inside, that’s a check mark for clue number three.”
Naki cupped his hands so he could boost Scout up onto the platform. As she got to her feet, she turned to give Naki a hand, but he’d already hoisted himself up and was brushing himself off. As fast as Superman.
“What are you waiting for?” Chase said. “Let’s open the box and see if there’s gold inside.”
Scout didn’t even need to open it. She knew what was inside. Everything about the box was the same as the other two.
Carefully, Naki opened it, revealing the worn sack inside. The weight of the coins shifted audibly as he untied the string and poured a few into his palm.
Chase stepped in for a closer look. “Same as before?”
Naki gave a small nod. “Same markings. Mid-1800s.” He tucked the sack into the box and started back up the granite steps.
Scout lingered for just a moment longer, staring at the churning waves below as they hit the granite wall. In a few hours,much of this wall would be submerged. That box had remained hidden for well over one hundred years. “This whole thing. It’s just ... incredible.”
Chase stood beside her, quiet for once. He held out her jacket for her to slip her arms into, one by one, then handed her the hat.Sweet.Gentlemanly.
He tipped his head. “Your pink ribbon. It’s gone.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “The wind took it. But ... better a ribbon than a hat.” She adjusted her next-best hat. Still felt a little stiff. “On to the next clue.” And they followed Naki back up the stairs as a sliver of sun emerged on the horizon.
The early morning sky, a pale wash of pink and orange, spilled light over the horizon as the jeep rumbled along the Park Loop Road. Outside the windows, the coastline glimmered, the sunlight catching on the rippling waves. Chase leaned back against the seat, momentarily letting himself soak it in—the salt air, the rugged cliffs, the ocean stretching toward forever. He loved this place. Acadia wasn’t just scenery. It was part of him, of his family’s history, the same way these gold coins might be part of someone else’s.
The buzz of the hidden gold—the kind of story that could save his family newspaper—pulled his thoughts away from the view. Six generations of Fletcher dedication deserved a future. If these coins were the key to it, he couldn’t let the trail slip through his fingers. He’d promised Ranger Rivers that he would wait until Monday to break the story, but the weight of that promise pressed heavier with every mile. The thought of running a special edition of theGazettekept intruding into his mind.
Scout glanced at Chase in the rearview mirror. “Repeat the next clue one more time?”
“‘I left it where the ocean weeps, for what I couldn’t carry weighs me still.’”
Her eyes flicked to Naki’s briefly before returning to the road. “That could be anywhere, couldn’t it?”
“Our lighthouse keeper was a poet,” Naki said dryly, rolling the coins in his hand before dropping them back into the sack.
“A melancholy poet,” Scout added, half smiling.
“Sounds like guilt to me,” Chase said, sitting forward. “People do strange things when they feel guilty.” He fixed his gaze on Naki. “Speaking of reasons for doing what we do ... why are you doing all this? I know what I hope to get out of it. But what’s in it for you?”
Naki didn’t flinch, meeting Chase’s stare with a calm intensity. “My help was requested.”
