Page 42 of The Stone Family Warrior

He wrung out the rag and put it over the middle part of the sink. “Really.”

She looked at his lips, then back to his eyes.

Wait a sec. Did she want to kiss him? He backed away, reaching for her hand. “Come on, let’s get up to the library and focus on the treasure. It’ll take our minds off of this … ah … friendship date.”

She smiled shyly.

Yes, this was fun. He liked this woman, and no matter where tonight led, he wanted to spend time with her. Plain and simple.

“Tell me about these numbers, and let’s find the gold.”

Ten minutes later, Trent was gesturing toward one of three large whiteboards that he’d bought and set up in the library. “191100716019633975 are the numbers that were left at the bottom of the map right here.” He pointed to the laminated map they’d found at Bird Island. “And this is the Polaroid picture of Mom and Dad. See the bar of gold they are holding with the skull on it?”

She peered closer at the picture. “Wow.”

“We don’t have the gold here, or else I’d show it to you.”

“Where is it?”

“I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you.”

She jabbed a finger at him and scrunched up her nose. “Top Gun. Nice.”

“The truth is, I’m not exactly sure. Brooks stashed it in some undisclosed location. None of us care, because we’re not selling it or anything and we want to keep it safe from Mr. Banks.”

“Okay,” she said, rubbing her eyebrow. “I have read articles about you guys. And,” she added, cracking a smile, “I might have paid extra close attention because I had a crush on this kid a long time ago.”

He tugged at a strand of her hair. “So you’ve kept tabs on me? I knew it.”

She put her thumb and index finger close together, indicating a tiny amount. “The Stone family has a hard time staying out of the media.”

“Nah, you kept tabs on me because you wanted to see if I’d read your note.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Liberty rolled her eyes and pointed to the board. “So I remember reading an article about how Trey actually shot a guy who had snuck in the inn and tried to kill Ava. Is that right?”

Trent sobered, thinking about Mr. Jones. “Yes, it was a realtor who wanted to get his hands on the journals that talked about the conquistador’s treasure.” He directed her attention to the locked, temperature-controlled case in the center of the library. “All of those journals are in there, but I don’t think they are really valid in the treasure hunt any longer, because my parents actually found the treasure years ago out at Bird Island.” His finger tapped the letter and picture. “That is where the letter, the picture, and the bar of gold we have stashed away is from.”

Liberty glanced from the letter to the picture. She hovered over the picture of his parents holding the bar of gold. “Wow, they are so young in this picture.” She smiled. “I feel like they are close to the same age they were in the picture I have back at the house of you all during that Christmas ball.”

Trent leaned in, taking in the details of his parents. “Maybe. We would have to see if there is a time stamp on that picture.”

“Yes, we will.” She studied his features. “You look so much like your dad. That blond hair and the shape of your face. But I think you have your mother’s eyes.”

He mused that she saw him through the eyes of a painter. As if captured by a magnet, he leaned into her long, curly hair. “Is that lemony scent your shampoo?”

She blushed and then rolled her eyes. “Stop smelling me!”

He laughed. “I like to smell you.” He wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her into him, but this was not the time.

“So keep telling me about the gold. Mr. Jones tried to kill Ava over it?”

“Yep. Then a guy named Mr. Banks, the dot-com billionaire, came to South Port right after Hurricane Sharla.”

A worried expression darkened her face. “My grandmother had so many broken windows from that one, but she was hunkered down with her group of friends. I was so thankful for that.”

“Right.” He wished he’d known about her grandmother being alone back then; he would have checked up on her. “So Banks came to town and made a pass at Kensi, then planned on taking the petroglyphs and studying them.” He pointed to the east side of the house. “I don’t know if you know Mr. Stout. He owns that land, and he actually ended up selling it to Banks.”

“No!” she said, looking just as annoyed by the whole thing as he felt.

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