“What is all this?” she asks, her gaze fixing on Richard. “And why have you been lying to me, all these years, Richard?”
Chapter 19
Caleb
The tension in the underground chamber is intense as Richard and Margret stare into one another's eyes. I move closer to Lana, not just so that I’m near her but also so that I can see everyone’s reactions.
“I think you should tell her, Richard,” I say quietly. “No more secrets.”
Richard’s shoulders slump as he nods reluctantly. “You’re right.” He turns to Margret, whose face is a mixture of hurt and confusion. “I’m sorry I’ve kept this from you. The truth is, Thomas Wolf wasn’t just your great-grandfather. He was my great-great-uncle. We’re distant cousins.”
Margret’s hand flies to her mouth. “What? All these years working for me, and you never thought to mention we’re family?”
“I was trying to protect you,” Richard explains, his voice strained. “I’ve been tracking NTM—Northern Tier Mining—for decades. They’re the ones who really killed your brother, not Danny. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
As Richard continues explaining everything—the corporate crimes, the century-old murders, his research—I scan the room more carefully. Something doesn’t add up. According to Wolf’sjournal, this chamber should contain substantial gold reserves, but as I sweep my flashlight across the shelves and corners, I see plenty of documents but no gold bars, only the gold nuggets weighing down the corners of the map on the table.
“Richard,” I interrupt when he pauses for breath. “The journal mentioned significant gold deposits stored with the evidence. Where is it?”
Richard stops mid-sentence, looking around with sudden concern. “It should be here. Thomas documented at least fifty pounds of processed gold bars stored in this chamber, unless NTM got here first. But no, they couldn’t have otherwise; they would have taken everything of importance.”
Lana moves toward the back of the room, her flashlight beam dancing across the dusty floor. “Maybe it’s—” Her words cut off as she stumbles, catching herself against the wall. “Whoa, I tripped over—”
We all turn as her light illuminates what she stumbled on—an old steamer trunk partially hidden behind the last shelf. Its brass fittings are green with age, but the lock appears intact.
“That wasn’t on the inventory,” Richard says, moving quickly toward it.
Lana kneels beside the trunk, examining it. “The lock is broken,” she notes, carefully lifting the lid.
The trunk creaks open, revealing not gold, but more papers—and a sealed envelope on top, yellowed with age. Lana picks it up, turning it over in her hands.
“It’s addressed to ‘The Finder,’” she says, looking up at me with those striking green eyes.
“Open it,” Jake says. “You’re the finder.”
She replies with a nervous laugh, “We all are.” Carefully, she breaks the seal and unfolds the brittle paper inside. As she reads, her expression shifts from curiosity to surprise.
“‘To whoever finds this chamber,’” she reads aloud. “‘If you are reading this, then the gold is no longer here. I have moved it for safekeeping, as I fear my enemies grow closer by the day. The true treasure lies beneath the place where water meets stone, where the light of the equinox touches the mark of the wolf. The gold will serve its purpose when the time is right, not before. Trust no one who seeks wealth over justice. – Thomas Wolf, January 14, 1881.’“
“Two months before he died,” Richard murmurs.
“Water meets stone... the equinox...” Jake repeats thoughtfully. “Could he mean the waterfall on the north side of the property? There’s an outcropping there shaped like a wolf’s head if you look at it from the right angle.”
“The spring equinox is less than two weeks away,” Connor adds. “March 20th.”
“We need to get these documents to safety first,” Kane says decisively. “If NTM is watching the property, we don’t have much time.”
Everyone springs into action, carefully gathering portfolios, photographs, and papers. I help Lana fill the trunk with documents and anything else we can grab.
“We should’ve taken pictures of everything before we moved it,” Mia suggests, photographing the map on the table before snagging it off and carefully rolling it.
Richard moves to a shelf near the back wall and reaches for a small metal box tucked behind some ledgers. “We need to findthe original deed to the mine,” he explains. “It will prove the Hawthornes never legally—”
A sharp click echoes through the chamber, followed by a mechanical grinding sound from somewhere in the walls. We all freeze.
“Nobody move,” I command, recognizing the sound of a triggered mechanism. My eyes lock with Lana’s across the room, and I see the same realization dawning on her face.
“Oh. My. God. It’s a booby trap,” she whispers.
