“Keep going. The clue said, ‘Where the hunter watches the dawn, beneath his shadow lies the prize.’ It has to be Otter Cliff. The sun rises right behind it this time of year. It casts the cliff’s shadow into a narrow crevice above the tide line.”
Scout exhaled a laugh, shaking her head in amazement. “You, sir, are a walking park encyclopedia.”
“It’s in my bones, this park. And Naki will do.” He turned to her. “The person who stashed the gold had quite an understanding of the tides and the sun’s path throughout the year. Must’ve been very familiar with Acadia.”
Scout straightened her back. “I completely forgot! Yesterday you said you knew something more about the gold stasher.”
“I said my partner had a theory. But you said you don’t want to discuss my partner.”
Scout scowled. “Mind telling me this theory?”
“Not now. Too long a conversation. We’re under a time crunch.”
“What’s the crunch?”
“The sunrise. Turn off here.”
After parking the car, they walked down a path to the sea. The predawn light crept across the sky, a pale wash of gray-blue stretching over the ocean. Scout shoved her hands into her pockets, shivering slightly in the cool air as she stood beside Naki at the base of Otter Cliff. The massive granite face rose above them, its cracks and crevices cast in deep shadow by the faint light. “How in the world can we narrow it down to one crevice?”
“By following her pattern.” Naki stood motionless, his sharp eyes scanning the rocks. He pointed to a narrow crevice—about shoulder height to Scout—where a long shadow, cast by the first light of dawn, stretched like a deliberate marker. “There,” hesaid, his voice quiet but confident. “The shadow gives it away. No one would think to look here except at this exact time of day.”
Scout hoped he was right. She put on her gloves and stepped closer, squinting into the narrow crack. The opening was small, barely wide enough for her arm to fit. “You’re sure this is it?”
Naki tilted his head toward her. “Ninety-nine percent sure.” He rocked his hand back and forth. “Maybe ... ninety.”
She sighed and slipped one arm into the crevice, her fingers brushing against cold, damp rock as she reached deeper and deeper. “You know,” she said, gritting her teeth as she felt her way along the jagged edges, “it’d be nice if, just once, these were a little easier to reach. Like, I don’t know, under a nice pile of leaves.”
“She didn’t want anyone else to find them.”
“No kidding,” she muttered, wincing as her elbow scraped against the granite. Her fingers finally hit something solid. “I feel something.” Something cold, smooth. Something with sharp corners.
She gripped the edge of the box, but it was wedged tightly into the rock. She gave it a sharp tug, but it still didn’t budge.
Naki crossed his arms, watching with faint amusement. “Need a hand?”
Scout shot him a look. “Very funny.” She shifted her grip, braced her free hand against the rock for leverage, and gave the box another hard yank. This time, it shifted. Just slightly, but it wasn’t quite as wedged in. Slowly, she wiggled it, moving it until it broke free with a scraping sound, and she stumbled back a step, holding the brass box triumphantly. “Got it!”
The morning light glinted off the brass as she wiped dirt from her sleeve. She looked up at Naki.
“Good thing you’ve got small hands,” he said, his tone teasing but with an edge of respect.
“Good thing you’ve got smart instincts,” she said back, handing him the box. “We make quite a team.”
Naki’s gaze lingered on the box for a moment before flicking back to her. “So we do.” For just a moment, their eyes locked, and then his face softened into a full, pleased smile.
Good night.
Today’s edition of theBar Harbor Gazettelay open on Tim Rivers’s desk, the headline screaming “Hidden Gold at Acadia National Park.” Next to the newspaper was the most recently discovered cache that Scout and Naki had just brought in to him.
Scout reached for the newspaper, her movements careful, almost hesitant. She scanned the article, her lips pressed into a tight line. “Well,” she said finally, setting the paper down, “Chase did stick to the facts. Mostly.”
Tim grunted. “And it’s the ‘mostly’ that’s the problem.” He jabbed a finger at the paper. “That headline alone is going to bring every treasure hunter from here to Nova Scotia. Fletcher should have waited to run this story. Thanks to you both, the gold has been found.”
Scout and Naki exchanged a look.
Oh no. Tim almost didn’t want to ask. “There’s more?”
“Possibly,” Scout said.
