“Let’s try another section,” Ivy said, repositioning her shovel.
After a few minutes, Ivy rested her arms on top of the shovel, catching her breath. “This is ridiculous to be out here like this,” she said, realizing the folly of the situation. “We have every right to investigate this property in the daylight, regardless of what Forrest and Bennett think.”
“Then why are we sneaking around like crooks?” Poppy asked.
“Because we want to find the treasure first,” Shelly said, her eyes glimmering in the light.
Ivy dug her shovel into the ground again. “And if we wait for the excavation crew and they find something, thewhole project stops. Do you know what construction loan interest runs per day?”
“More than I want to think about,” Poppy replied. “Want to switch off with me?”
Just then, Ivy’s shovel struck something solid. The vibration traveled up the handle and into her wrists. “Found it.”
Shelly knelt immediately, brushing away loose soil so they could all see. “It’s not a pipe. Feel that; it’s flat.”
Ivy crouched beside her, tracing the top of whatever lay beneath them. The surface felt smooth, deliberately finished.
“I think it’s metal.” Ivy pressed harder, trying to gauge the size. The object extended beyond the small pit they’d created.
Poppy shifted the flashlight, leaning closer. “What do you think it is?”
A deep voice boomed behind them. “Good evening, ladies.”
Poppy dropped her flashlight, spinning a wild beam across their faces.
Ivy’s heart pounded. Caught in a blinding beam of light, she froze.
Chief Clark Clarkson stood behind them holding a brighter flashlight. His patrol car sat at the curb with the lights off.
“Clark.” Ivy straightened too quickly and nearly lost her balance. Her shovel clattered against the buried object. She held up her hand, shielding her eyes against the brightness. “We were just…” She wasn’t sure how to explain this.
“Digging up this property in the dark. I can see that. Mind telling me why?”
Shelly stood, wiping her palms on her jeans. “Ivy hitsomething with her shovel. Our brother thinks it’s an old drainage line under here, but we don’t.”
Clark nodded slowly, mentally assembling the puzzle before him. “And given Amelia Erickson’s track record, you wanted to check before the construction crew tears through here, am I right?”
“That’s about right,” Ivy said.
Clark lowered the flashlight and inclined his head. “Smart thinking but terrible execution. Why do it at night?”
Poppy recovered her flashlight. “We didn’t want to attract attention.”
“You attracted the attention of a very concerned neighbor who called in suspicious activity.” Clark’s gaze drifted toward the residential street, where curtains glowed in several windows. “Three people with shovels and a flashlight after dark raises questions.”
Shelly’s eyes widened. “Did someone think we were out here burying a body? That would have been spooky. Imagine, a real murder mystery right here in Summer Beach.”
“Darla,” Ivy muttered, throwing a look at Shelly to be quiet.
Clark’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t confirm it. “Whoever it was had a right to call. You want to dig? Do it in daylight. You’re the mayor’s wife, and you control this property. No one’s going to stop you from investigating the land at a reasonable hour.”
“We acted on impulse,” Ivy said, trying to ignore the guilty twinges in her chest.
“And you just happened to have shovels in your car.” Clark crouched beside their excavation.
He ran a beam of light along the exposed edge of the buried object. After a moment, he straightened. “Could beanything. Could be nothing. But if it turns out to be significant, you’ll want documentation with photographs and proper handling. You’ve been in similar situations at the inn, so you know what to do.”
“We wouldn’t be here except for Ben—” Ivy cut herself off, feeling a little embarrassed. Clark had a reasonable point, and she sounded like a teenager shifting blame. Not her finest moment.
