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"That's not comforting. You want to crawl under an overhang without having any idea whether the space behind it is even stable. What if you get trapped in there?"
He sets the GPR on the rocky ground and clasps my hands. "Trust me, love. I've done much more dangerous things and survived. I wouldn't do this if I weren't sure I could handle it."
"Okay. But you have to keep talking the whole time."
"Agreed." He kisses my knuckles one by one. "Try not to wring your hands too much while I'm gone."
Then he crawls under the overhang.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Errol
Maybe this wasn't the best idea I've ever had, but I wouldn't have become known as the greatest treasure hunter in the world if I refused to take big risks. I'm surprised Ashley didn't demand to come with me into this unknown cavern, but I suspect her near-calamity in Hermit Rapid has affected her more deeply than she wants to admit. It affected me, for sure. When I'd turned around and watched Ashley struggling not to tumble into the writhing waves, I swear my heart stopped for a second or two—right before I rushed toward Ashley to pull her back into the raft. I'd been terrified of losing her.
No, I donnae ever want to feel that way again.
I lie on my belly as I shimmy under the overhang, then turn on my headlamp so I can see where the bloody hell I'm going. I can't explain why I believe I'll find something important in here, but I learned long ago to trust my gut instincts. Besides, the map directed us here. This place must hold a clue or another map.
Just as I'm starting to think this foot-high space holds nothing more interesting than clammy rocks, I emerge into a small cavern. Once I've slid my legs out and my feet touch the floor, I rotate in a circle to get a three-sixty view of my surroundings. The cavern probably measures about fifteen feet in length and width. I walk the perimeter while running my hands along the walls to feel for anomalies, while I also scrutinize the space with my eyes too.
My fingers fall into a hole in the wall.
I stop and bend over to peer into the narrow slot in the solid rock surface, but even with my headlamp, I can't see anything inside there. So I do something that would probably make Ashley panic, or at least chastise me for being reckless. I push my hand into the slot.
"You're supposed to be talking, Errol," the lass shouts.
"Sorry. I forgot. Found something, though."
"What is it?"
"Not sure yet."
In movies, whenever a bloke sticks his hand into a mysterious hole in the wall of an underground cavern, he winds up losing that hand. But so far, mine has remained attached to my wrist. I push my hand deeper into the slot, exploring with my fingers until I find what feels like paper. I carefully slide it out and cradle the paper in both hands. It's clearly old, more than a hundred years, I'd wager. The sheet contains handwritten words—in English.
Oh aye, Ashley will want to see this. The lass will probably jump up and down when I show it to her.
"Coming out now," I shout to her. "You're going to like what I found."
Cautiously, I roll the paper up and hold it in one hand. Then I climb into the foot-high space under the overhang to belly-crawl through it again. As I draw closer to the exit, the sunlight almost blinds me. I didn't think I'd been inside the cavern long enough for my eyes to have adjusted to the gloom this much, but it hardly matters. I shove my hand out, proffering the rolled-up paper.
"Take this," I say. "Cannae crawl out while I'm holding it."
Someone takes the paper, and I assume it's Ashley.
I climb out and manage to land on my feet. As I brush damp dirt off myself, I blink rapidly until my eyes readjust to the sunshine.
"Mind if I unroll this?" Ashley asks. "I'm dying to see what you found."
"I think crawling through there squeezed some weight out of me and probably flattened all my muscles."
She skims her gaze over my body and rubs her lips together. "You look as good as ever to me."
Her sultry tone woke up myslat, but I don't have time to obey my cock's commands. We have earth-shattering discoveries to make. Since Ashley seems to have gone semi-catatonic, with her focus on my groin, I snatch the paper from her hand, unrolling it so I can finally read the words written on it.
Ashley tears her gaze away from myslatand moves closer to examine the paper. "Holy cow. Is this really a letter written by G.E. Kincaid?"
"It appears to be." I read through the text again to make sure I understood it correctly. "And he seems to be saying the treasure is not here."
