“Find anything interesting?” I asked, hanging my coat by the door.
“This journal is a goldmine—possibly literally.” He looked up, excitement in his eyes despite the exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders. “Thomas Wolf wasn’t just any prospector. According to this, he was a geologist who discovered a rich vein that the mining company had overlooked.”
I pulled up a chair beside him, peering at the yellowed pages. “And he hid the location?”
“Better than that. According to this, he extracted a significant amount of ore before the dispute with the company turned violent.” He pointed to an entry dated October 1897. “He writes about hiding his ‘security’ in multiple locations across his property—including a cache of processed gold.”
My eyes widened. “Like… Actual gold bars? That’s what we’re looking for?”
“Seems like it.” He turned another page carefully. “And according to this, he created a cipher—a code that, when deciphered, would lead to the main cache.”
“Is it in there? The cipher?”
Caleb shook his head. “Not directly. But there are references to markings on trees and rocks—natural features that would have meant something to him but would look ordinary to anyone else.”
I sat back, processing this. Outside, the wind had picked up, sending snow swirling against the windows. “So we need to find the other boxes. The coordinates in the notebook...”
“Are likely the locations of additional clues,” Caleb finished. “But we won’t be doing any more treasure hunting tonight.” He gestured toward the window over the sink, the only one that didn’t have a curtain on it, where the storm was now in full force, snow accumulating rapidly on the sill.
“No,” I agreed, rubbing my arms against a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. “But someone else might be. Someone who knows exactly what they’re looking for.”
Caleb’s expression sobered. “All the more reason to secure what we’ve found and get some rest. We’ll need clear heads to figure out this cipher.”
I gathered the items and returned them to the ammunition box. “Where should we hide it?”
“Somewhere not obvious,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it started to ring. “It’s Jake,” he said, looking at the screen. “Hey brother, please tell me you have good news.”
Chapter 6
Caleb
“We got her, Caleb,” Jake’s voice came through, tired but triumphant. “Nora is safe.”
My shoulders sagged as the tension I hadn’t even realized I was carrying suddenly released. “Thank God. Is she okay? Is everyone else alright?”
“She’s shaken up but physically unharmed. Ella’s with her now—hasn’t left her side since we got her out.” Jake’s voice lowered. “It was close, man. Too close.”
“What about Petrova?” I asked, watching as Lana moved around the kitchen, clearly trying not to eavesdrop but failing miserably. Her eyes kept darting in my direction, hopeful and anxious.
“Dead.”
He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask.
I gave Lana a thumbs up, and her face broke into a smile so bright it momentarily distracted me from Jake’s next words.
“—at the MacGallan estate for a few days,” he was saying.
“Sorry, what was that? The connection’s not great with this storm.”
“I said we’re staying at the MacGallan estate— Wren insists we all decompress before heading home. The family doctor wants to monitor Nora, anyway, make sure there’s no delayed trauma.”
“Smart,” I agreed, watching Lana open cabinets, searching for Scout’s food. She found it and measured out a portion, her movements efficient but somehow elegant. Scout danced around her feet, his nails clicking against the hardwood floor.
“How’s your leg?” Jake asked.
“Fine,” I replied automatically, still distracted by Lana. She’d set Scout’s bowl down and was now looking through the refrigerator’s freezer. Her hair had fallen loose from its ponytail during our expedition, and she tucked a strand behind her ear as she worked.
“Bullshit,” Jake said, knowing me too well. “But I’ll let it slide for now.”
