Chapter Eleven
“Lane Elizabeth Montgomery, do you have any idea what you’ve just put us through?”
I grimaced and held the phone away from my ear. Mom’s high-pitched shrieking coupled with the sniffling on the other end told me she knew everything about Maudie, and I was in big, big trouble.
“I’m sorry. Listen I—”
“Why haven’t you been in touch with us? The police officer, who called us this morning to tell us about Maudie, said he went by the house, and you weren’t there. Just where are you?”
“I’m with Maddox,” I replied.
She sighed with relief. “Oh, so, you two are at the hospital then?”
Oh shit. There was no way to dig myself out of this one that didn’t involve even more lies. I couldn’t possibly tell her that instead of being by Maudie’s bedside like a good girl, I had not only committed breaking and entering on a cabin somewhere in Blue Ridge, but I was about to continue a hunt for hidden Cherokee gold while armed henchmen hunted us down.
“Um, yeah, I’m with him,” I answered, trying to cover by saying as little as possible.
“Good. I’m trying to get us a flight out of here while your dad’s gone to the bookstore to try to smooth things over about missing the signing. As soon as we can, we’re coming to the hospital to be with Maudie.”
“And um, when exactly do you think that will be?” I asked, absentmindedly playing with my silverware.
“Probably not until this afternoon or tonight.”
Great. I had a few hours until all hell broke loose. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you then.”
“Tell Maudie we love her, and we’re coming just as soon as we can, okay?”
Oh God. She had actually gone there. What kind of person was I who could lie about being at the bedside of a woman in a coma? My chest clenched, and I fought to breathe. “Okay,” I whispered.
From somewhere faraway, I heard her tell me she loved me and goodbye. I hung up the phone and stared down at the grease-encrusted Formica table. I was so zoned out that I didn’t even acknowledge the waitress sitting my plate down.
Maddox’s voice brought me out of my stupor. “What’s the matter? Are you in trouble?”
“She thinks we’re at the hospital. They’re coming this afternoon or tonight. And then…” I gulped. “She told me to give Maudie her love,” I whispered.
He jolted back against the booth like I’d slapped him. Of course, his gut-wrenching reaction didn’t help my emotional overload. Even though I tried, I couldn’t stop the tears that welled in my eyes before spilling over my cheeks.
Maddox shifted in his seat while rubbing his neck a little too furiously. “Yeah, uh, you stay here and take it easy. I’ll go on and see about getting us a car.”
I glanced at the teeming plate of food he had barely touched. “What about your breakfast?”
“Uh, I can eat on the way. You know, get us there quicker and all.” At my wounded expression, he groaned. “Look, we both know I’ve never been a touchy-feely emotional dude.”
“So?”
“So, I just can’t handle seeing you cry, okay?”
“You did last night,” I argued.
He scowled. Before he could get me with a comeback, our attention was drawn to the loud conversation of a table full of truckers. “They’re saying it wasn’t a typical robbery. No money was taken, and the person who did it was wise enough to take the security tapes.”
“Some are saying it looks like a professional job—you know, some ex-con out on parole. But to me, it sounds like an inside job. You know, some pissed-off employee or something,” a man with a John Deere hat argued.
Another man shook his head. “I delivered to Maudie’s several times, and there ain’t no way some worker would be mad enough to try to kill her. She treated everyone like family.
“It sure is a shame about the warehouse fire. Police are saying it must’ve been started to burn everything and conceal the crime. It sure was lucky the fire department got there in time to put it out. The warehouse would have probably been a total loss instead of just taking out half of it.”
The John Deere man leaned forward. “I think the biggest mystery of all is who the hell called 911?”
A stabbing pain crisscrossed through my chest, and I gasped to breathe. How could these random truckers be talking about Maudie? The way they spoke about her made it sound like she hadn’t made it. I guess that was good considering her ICU room was being police guarded in case Jensen or some of his thugs came back.
“Don’t go there, Lane,” Maddox said.
I jerked my head up to stare at him. “What?”
“You shouldn’t let yourself for one minute think that Maudie’s not going to pull through this coma and make it just fine.”
“But she could die. That’s a truth we have to face.”
With a shrug, Maddox started scarfing down his bacon. He could live in denial all he wanted, but I couldn’t ignore the stark reality of our situation. As he continued steadily devouring his plate, I realized he was one of those people who ate their emotions. He punctuated his bites by growling, “How could the news travel so fast? It’s barely been fourteen hours.”
I remained quiet as I pushed my plate away. My impending doom once my parents found out what I had done, coupled with the truckers’ conversations about Maudie, had completely wiped out my appetite. Once Maddox cleaned his plate, he dug some cash out of his wallet to pay for breakfast. I didn’t even bother protesting that he shouldn’t get mine as well as his. I didn’t like the angry gleam in his eyes.
He grimaced when he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Dammit, my cell is dead.”
“Mine’s about to die, too. We’ll probably need the GPS to help us track the gold’s location.” I motioned out the window at the Wal-Mart across the street. “Why don’t I go get a charger while you get the car?”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
After buying a cell charger, a book of different Georgia maps, a six-pack of bottled water and a few snacks, I stood outside Wal-Mart waiting for Maddox to pick me up. Bringing my hand to my eyes, I shifted my purchases to one arm and then shielded my gaze from the intense sun. I actually heard him coming long before I saw him. He had bought a big diesel truck like the kind that hauled horse trailers.
Maddox rumbled up to the curb, and I had to step on my tiptoes to poke my head in the window. “This is one huge truck.”
His grin was pure little boy with a brand spanking new toy. “4K on the nose after some intense haggling. It’s built for major off-roading, not to mention the steel enforced body is basically impenetrable. You know, if Jensen and his goons show up for another gun battle.” He smacked the steering wheel. “This baby is fierce!”
I cocked my head at him. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get in there with all the testosterone floating around.”
“This is a real man’s truck, babe. Don’t let it scare you.”
“Hmm. What about that old saying about guys needing big trucks to compensate for their lack of manhood?”
He laughed. “Just get your ass in here, Squirt.”
I opened the door and eyed a leather strap hanging from the ceiling. “What’s that?”
“It’s to help you get in. You know, because it’s so far off the ground.”
“Oh, I see.” I grabbed hold of the strap and then hoisted myself into the cab.
“Hold on tight. I’m going to show you what this baby can do.”
He gunned the engine, sending me catapulting back against the seat. “Umph,” I muttered. We careened out of the parking lot and onto the four-lane. “Is all this really necessary?” I called over the roar of the engine.
“Oh hell yeah,” Maddox replied. With a flick of the wrist, he turned on the radio. An AC/DC tune blared out of the speakers and hurt my ears.
“Don’t I get a say in what we listen to?”
He grinned. “Nope.”
I leaned over and smacked his arm playfully. “That’s not fair.”
“All right, all right. Find a station you want. But nothing too girlie and none of that boy-band shit.”
With a giggle, I turned the knob until I found a station playing some 80’s music. “How’s this?” I questioned over Bon Jovi’s You Give Love a Bad Name.
“Fine with me,” he replied, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
With Maddox’s lead foot on the accelerator, we made pretty good time. A lot of the trip was across two-lane roads and through rural areas. Realizing we were almost there, I pulled my make-up bag out of my purse. I hated the thought of meeting the Cherokee etymologist looking like something the cat dragged in, and after running like crazy to escape from Eddie and Barbie’s, I imagined I was pretty close. I brought the visor down and gazed in the mirror. Eesh, I was right. I desperately needed some help.
As I started rubbing on foundation, Maddox glanced over at me. “What are you doing?”
“Duh, what does it look like I’m doing?”
“Why do you need make-up anyway?”
I shrugged. “I wanted to freshen up a little. You know, not scare everyone at New Echota looking like my pale ghostly self.”
“You’re too beautiful to scare anyone, Lane.” I stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed to which he grinned.
“Um, thanks.” I then tried to ignore the fluttering of my heart along with the butterflies in my stomach. Darn him. How was he always able to do that to me after everything that had happened between us? Was he serious or just seriously leading me on?
He remained silent after that, watching me out of the corner of his eye as I finished with the powder, blush, and eye shadow. I had just finished applying lip gloss when I saw the sign for New Echota. “Hey, we’re here,” I cried.
“No shit,” Maddox replied, turning on the blinker.
Driving along through the park felt like being transported to another place and time. Rolling green hills stretched as far as you could see along with an old Tavern and the Council House. “Where are the teepees?” Maddox asked.
“They didn’t live in teepees in later years. They lived in cabins like those.” I pointed to one of the few remaining ones still standing.
We pulled into a parking space in front of the Visitor’s Center that also doubled as a museum. I glanced over at Maddox. “Here goes nothing.”
We got out of the truck and were overtaken by a sea of middle-school kids who were clearly on a field trip. Before we could get inside the door, a college-aged tour guide bounded up to us. “Hi. Do you chaperones need your badges?”
“Actually, we’re looking for someone who can read and translate the Cherokee language,” I replied.
The girl’s brows furrowed like I’d been smoking on a peace pipe and wanted to see human scalps on a stick. “Oh, um, I guess you need to ask inside about that.”
“Thanks,” Maddox said.
We were met with an icy blast of air when we stepped in the building. Native American flutes and drums played softly over the speaker system. We glanced around the lobby before walking up to the front desk.
“How many tickets?” a man asked.
“Actually we need to speak with someone who can translate Cherokee,” I replied.
“That would be Dr. Bretsky. His office is at the back of the exhibition hall.” When we started to turn away, he said, “Excuse me, but you need tickets to go through there.”
Maddox frowned. ‘But we’re not here for all the museum stuff. We told you—”
“Yes, I know, and like I said before, you’ll need two tickets.”
With a growl of frustration, Maddox dug out his wallet. He tossed a ten at the man who gave a tight smile in return before handing us two tickets. “Everything has to be a pain in the ass!”
I couldn’t help giggling. “I think it’s safe to say that nothing else is going to be easy for us.”
We wove our way through a maze of Cherokee artifacts preserved behind glass cases until we reached a long hallway. I read the gold-plated nameplates before stopping at the one that read, “Dr. Paul Bretsky”.
I rapped lightly on the door.
“Yeah?” a voice demanded.
Maddox arched his eyebrows before twisting the doorknob. The mammoth desk in front of us was buried under books and files. I could barely see the man sitting behind it. He was surprisingly younger than I imagined. I wondered if he was much older than thirty, even with his slightly balding hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He stared expectantly at us.
“Excuse us, but are you Dr. Bretsky?” Maddox said.
He heaved a massive sigh. “Yes, I am.”
I stepped in front of Maddox. “Oh wonderful. I’m Lane Montgomery, and this is Maddox Diaz. You can’t begin to imagine how excited we are to have found you.” I thrust my hand out to shake Dr. Bretsky’s.
He eyed it before giving me a half-hearted handshake. “I wasn’t aware I had a fan club.”
I dug the map out of my purse. “You see we really, really need someone who can translate this. You know, from the Cherokee syllabary into English.”
“You can’t be serious.”
Maddox and I exchanged a look at Dr. Bretsky’s exasperated tone. “Yes, we are,” Maddox replied.
“We think it might be a very important part of Cherokee history,” I added.
Dr. Bretsky continued to stare at us without responding. Maddox cleared his throat. “We’re willing to pay for your time.”
“Oh really. How kind of you,” he said, icily.
Maddox leaned over Dr. Bretsky’s desk. “Dude, what’s your problem? You’re a freakin’ Cherokee language expert working at a freakin’ Cherokee historical park. Don’t you even care about the potential history surrounding this document?”
Narrowing his eyes, Dr. Bretsky replied, “Of course I care about the history. It’s my life’s work.”
“Then how can you just sit there and not be totally in awe about something like this?” I asked.
A contemptuous snort escaped Dr. Bretsky’s lips. “Don’t tell me you think you’re the first people to ever burst through my door with what they thought was an authentic Cherokee historic artifact?” When Maddox and I didn’t reply, Dr. Bretsky rolled his eyes. “At least once a month, I get some crackpot with a parchment or pottery or arrowhead that they think the park will pay them big money for. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it turns out to be garbage, and they’ve wasted both my time and theirs.”
I shifted on my feet, refusing to take no for an answer. “But what if our map might be tied to the legends of hidden Cherokee gold?”
“Like I haven’t heard that one before.” Maddox and I opened our mouths to protest, but Dr. Bretsky held his hand up to silence us. “Do you see this?” he asked, gesturing wildly towards a mound of paperwork on his desk. Maddox and I nodded. “I have to get through all that for a grant the park desperately needs. And when do I have to have it done by? Tomorrow. So, I’m sorry if I don’t have time to play along with your little map decoding and quest.”
“But if you could—”
Dr. Bretsky popped out of his seat like a jack in the box. “Listen carefully to what I’m about to say. I live in the real world—with a job, deadlines, and so much stress that I have an ulcer. Yes, there were legends of hidden gold, but that’s all that they were: legends. Whatever gold there might’ve been hidden was confiscated by the US Government or claimed by family members years and years ago.”
“But this is a matter of life and death,” I cried, my voice raising an octave with desperation.
Dr. Bretsky grunted. “I’m going to the bathroom now. When I get back, you two better be gone.” He then stomped out of the room.
At the sound of the bathroom door slamming, I asked, “Great. Now what?”
Maddox rubbed his chin. “Okay, desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“I don’t know what other measures there could possibly be. We’ve appealed to everything that would interest him—Cherokee history, the treasure itself. You even offered him money, and he’s still not interested.”
“Yeah, well, we haven’t appealed to everything.” His gaze trailed over me before he wagged his eyebrows up and down. “I think you’re going to have to show a little skin. Maybe give him a little first base action.”
My eyes widened. “Are you insane? I’m not going to flash my barely there chest at him!”
“It’s not like I’m asking you to sleep with him or anything. Just a little harmless flirting. The dude is wound tight as hell and could use a little distraction.” I opened my mouth to protest more, but Maddox grabbed me by the shoulders. “Lane, must I remind you what a screwed up situation we’re in? The map has to be translated, and this a*shole is the only person in a thousand mile radius who can possibly do it.”
Even though I hated to admit it, Maddox was right. I was about to accept defeat when something on the bookcase caught my eye and made me laugh out loud. The more I thought of it, the funnier it was, and the more I laughed hysterically.
“Oh, so now you think this is all funny?”
I wiped my eyes. “No, I was just thinking that from the looks of it, I’m not the one who needs to be showing some skin.”
“Huh?”
I pointed to a rainbow frame on the bookcase. It held a picture of Dr. Bretsky and several other guys at Atlanta’s Gay Pride Parade.
Maddox glanced from the picture to me and shook his head. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Excuse me? Two seconds ago you were more than happy for me to prostitute myself, and now that the shoe is on the other foot, you’re not willing to help our cause?”
“It’s not happening,” he muttered. The vein on the right side of his head started throbbing, and I knew he was extremely pissed. It didn’t help that his face had turned an odd shade of eggplant. But then something else on the bookshelf caught my eye, and I hurried over to it.
“I am not flirting with that dude, or any other dude for that matter, for all the Cherokee gold in the world! Got it?”
“Quit being such a homophobe.” I pulled a book off the shelf and waved it at him. “Besides, I think I have a plan that will keep you keep your dignity and your shirt on.”
Maddox crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at me. Dr. Bretsky swept back in the room, rolled his eyes, and huffed, “You two are still here? Do I have to call Park Security?”
I smiled sweetly at him as I pointed to his bookcase. “I noticed you’ve got quite a collection of Stephen Montgomery’s books.”
“Yeah, he’s the best crime novelist of the decade. What’s your point?”
“What if I was to tell you that Stephen Montgomery just happens to be my father?”
“I’d say you were once again wasting my time with your stupid lies and treasure maps.”
Stabbing the air in front of him with his finger, Maddox ordered, “Google it.”
I nodded. “You’ll want to go to his website. There’s a nice family picture under his biography.”
Dr. Bretsky narrowed his eyes. “It is only out of sheer morbid curiosity that I’m still even playing along with this freak show and not having you hauled out of here.” He flopped down in his chair and started a flurry of keystrokes. After a few clicks of the mouse, he glanced from the computer screen over to me and raised his eyebrows. “Okay, I’m listening.”
A smile curved on my lips. “Being an only child, there’s just about nothing my dad wouldn’t do for me. So, I’m sure if he found out you helped me with something super-duper important, he’d really want to repay you.” I leaned forward on his desk. “Like maybe discussing his novels over dinner…maybe even reading his newest book before it goes to print?”
At this point, Dr. Bretsky practically salivated on his chin. “You’re serious?”
“Totally.” I reached over and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen off his desk. I scribbled Dad’s cell-phone number on it and then ripped the paper off. With a smile, I teased him by waving the number in front of his face. “This could be your lucky day.”
“Regardless of how I feel about the map’s authenticity, I guess it wouldn’t really take that long to decode it,” he said, tentatively.
“So, do we have a deal?” I asked.
He nodded. “But only for the translation—you’re on your own after that. I don’t have time to sit around and help you figure out what it means.”
“Okay, it’s a deal, Dr. Bretsky.” I handed him the piece of paper. Not wanting him to “out” me to Dad, I quickly said, “He’s on a pretty stressful book tour at the moment. If you could wait a week or two to call, you’ll have his undivided attention.”
His lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Thank you. And please call me Paul.” He motioned for me to hand him the map. Instead of beginning to read the symbols and lettering, he held it up to the light. Then he dug a magnifying glass out of his desk drawer and started peering at it closer. His expression was one of disbelief. “This is real animal skin.”
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. “Yes, we’re well aware of that, Paul.”
“Yes, but the very fact that the Cherokee’s stopped using animal skins for documents in the early 1800s makes it even more ‘legit’ as you say.” Paul continued examining the parchment. “Where did you find the map?”
“It was hidden behind the frame of a Cherokee painting,” I replied.
“Interesting. I assume it was an antique?”
“Yeah, it was. Maudie said that…” My chest clenched, causing my voice to choke off. All I could see was her lying motionless in a coma while machines beeped around her. I couldn’t finish what I was going to say, so I stared helplessly at Maddox.
He drew in a breath. “The lady who gave us the map said it was painted by the grandson of a Cherokee chief who took part in the removal and Trail of Tears.”
I mouthed “thanks” to him to which he gave me a small smile.
Excitement danced in Paul’s eyes. “That’s fascinating. It must’ve been handed down in the family, but all the while, the map was concealed within the painting.”
“Probably. I mean, it was an accident that it was even found. After I broke the frame, we saw the map hidden inside.”
“This changes everything,” he murmured.
Maddox and I exchanged a look. “What do you mean?” I asked.
Paul glanced up from the map and smiled tightly. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to renegotiate our bargain.”
“What you want to fanboy some more and spend the night at Lane’s house now or something?” Maddox asked.
“As tempting as that sounds, I was thinking more of a monetary payoff.”
I threw my hands up in exasperation. “You have got to be freaking kidding me. Ten minutes ago we were pests with a phony map and now because of a little animal skin parchment you want a piece of the ‘alleged gold’?”
Paul gave me an arrogant smirk. “Didn’t you ever stop to imagine that might be a stipulation of my services?”
“But you’re not even translating the whole thing.”
“Keep up that attitude, and I won’t transcribe one word,” he challenged.
“Enough.” Maddox stepped between Paul and me. “We’ll be happy to cut you in on whatever we find.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and growled in frustration. “It was Maudie’s painting. She deserves all the gold considering she almost died for it.” I then proceeded to spill the entire story of what had happened to us in the last fifteen hours. I couldn’t help getting teary when I told about Paul about Maudie being shot and being in a coma. Paul’s mouth gaped open, and his eyes widened at the parts about Jensen chasing us and then the shootout that followed.
“That’s unbelievable,” he said when I finished.
I wiped my eyes. “Yeah, and allegedly so is a map to hidden Cherokee gold.”
Paul leaned back in his chair, and his expression softened. “Believe me when I say I’m truly sorry for what the two of you have been through.”
“Thanks,” Maddox and I grumbled in unison.
“I realize after dealing with armed men and potential murderers that when I said I wanted monetary compensation, you assumed my intentions were selfish—that the money would be only for me.”
“Well, who else would it be for?” I asked.
“I want it for the park—you know, to fund more educational projects. The historical items we can’t get grant money for.” He eyed the pile of paperwork on his desk contemptuously. “And to help pad our budget so I don’t get stuck doing all this extra work.”
“Seriously?” Maddox asked.
Paul nodded. “It’s the truth.”
I glanced over at Maddox, and he gave a short bob of his head. I mean, what choice did we have? We were between a rock and a hard place, and at least the gold would go to a good cause and not to some asshat like Jensen.
“Okay, fine.” I extended my hand. “It’s a deal.”
Paul shook my hand. Then he sat back down and picked up a legal pad and pen. He started furiously scribbling down words. His head would bob between the map and the paper. Finally, he put his pen down. “Okay, I think I have it.”
I leaned over and started reading aloud:
With the power of the white, leave where there are tracks and travel into the place where the yellow gift was first found. From there, ward off the devastation of the Black Man to go into where the rocks talk. Find the cave where the pretty fawn shed her tears. Under the place of the sacred fire you will find the bloodstained treasure.
“That’s it?”
Paul and I glanced up at Maddox. His face contorted with extreme frustration. “That’s like some whacked out riddle. It doesn’t tell shit about where the gold is!”
Paul sighed dramatically. “Did you actually think it would spell it all out for you? The Cherokees weren’t stupid, especially when it came to their treasure.”
I groaned and threw my head back. “Now what?”
“As per our deal, there’s nothing else for me to do. It’s all in your hands,” Paul replied.
“Then we’re totally and completely screwed,” Maddox growled, flopping down on the plush leather couch.
“Look, I’m still not a hundred percent sold on the map’s authenticity or the fact that there’s really gold at the end of the search. But to show you that I’m not totally unfeeling, I do have something else that should have the answers you need,” Paul said, walking over to one of his bookshelves.
“Let me guess. It’s some fat-ass volume of Cherokee lore that will have the answers to our riddle?” Maddox asked.
Paul chuckled. “Aren’t you a smart one?” He selected an ancient looking book that could have doubled as a weapon since it was so heavy. When he placed it in my hands, the smell of dust and musty earth invaded my nose.
I ran my fingers over the worn cover that read Cherokee Lore: The History of the Eastern Band of Cherokees, Past and Present. “Wow, that’s an intense title for an intense looking book.”
“The historian who wrote it was very thorough.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” I turned to Maddox and jerked my head to the door. “I guess we better get going. I know you have a lot of work to do.”
Maddox hopped off the couch. “Yeah, and unfortunately so do we.”
Just as we got to the door, Paul cleared his throat. “Here’s one last thing and then really you have to get the hell out of here.” After Maddox and I whirled around, he continued. “The Cherokees were really big on numbers and colors being symbolic. I’d start there with the research.”
I smiled. “Thanks, we will.”
After closing the office door, Maddox moaned and rubbed his eyes. “Great. Now we have to spend the rest of the afternoon reading through that moldy book instead of hunting the treasure.”
“It could be worse.”
He cocked his eyebrows. “And exactly how would that be possible?”
“Oh, I can think of a bunch of things. But the main one that comes to mind involves you flirting with Bretsky to get the translation.”
Maddox made a horrified face. “Okay, okay. You’re right.”
“We should probably find a hotel room, so we can concentrate and not be interrupted.”
“Oh the irony of our situation.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He grinned. “Most people our age don’t check into hotels to study ancient books and treasure maps.”
My face burned when I got his meaning. The next thing I knew he was shoving me into an empty office and slamming the door behind us. It was pitch black inside, and I could barely make out Maddox in front of me. “What the—”
He cupped his hand over my mouth. “Jensen’s tall thug is out in the exhibition hall,” he whispered.
Ice-cold fear crashed over me. Maddox saw I was going to be quiet and removed his hand. He leaned against the right side of the doorframe and eased his hand onto the knob. Gently, he turned it and cracked the door. We stood like marble statues as the seconds agonizingly ticked by. The sound of footsteps in the hallway caused me to freeze.
“Damn,” Maddox muttered. He turned back to me. “He’s going in Bretsky’s office.”
I shuddered. “Oh God, you don’t think he’d…” I gulped. “Hurt Paul?”
“I dunno.” He peeked out into the hall again. “I do know we have to get the hell out of here. Fast.”
He grabbed my hand and jerked me out the door. Without looking back, we started sprinting through the exhibition hall—bumping into tourists and almost mowing down a display of Cherokee bows and arrows.
“Stop that running!” someone shouted at us, but we ignored them. Just as we rounded the corner, we came face to face with Jensen’s short henchman. We all momentarily froze, staring at each other in shock. It only took a second for Maddox to sweep back into action. He jumped in front of me, shielding me from the guy.
“Don’t f*cking move!” the henchman snarled as he fumbled for his pistol in the holder on his chest.
“Go Lane,” Maddox ordered pushing me forward. Without hesitating, I began to run again.
“Stop or I’ll shoot!”
When I dared peeking over my shoulder, the henchman had his gun raised and was aiming it directly at us. My heart stilled, and it felt like minutes, rather than seconds, before it restarted. Screams pierced my eardrums as everyone around us began dropping to the ground. Fear caused me to falter, sending Maddox’s body crashing into mine. Side by side now, he tried shifting his body in front of mine. With one hand on my waist, he used his other arm to grab hold of a full-size statue of a Cherokee Warrior. Grunting, he tugged with all his strength. The statue teetered before falling off its display, creating a barrier between the henchman and us.
We didn’t stop running until we reached the truck and clambered inside. Maddox dug the keys out and fired up the engine. He threw the gear into reverse and squealed tires out of the parking space, narrowly missing a Senior Citizens group. They gave us evil looks when we pealed past them. But their expressions quickly changed to horror when Jensen’s two men came rushing out of the exhibition hall with guns in hand. I cringed in anticipation of bullets flying at the truck, but instead, a police siren screeched in my ears. Park security followed by two Gordon County Sheriff’s cars came roaring passed us.
“Looks like the Calvary finally showed up,” Maddox said as he gunned the truck. We tore out of the parking lot practically on two wheels. Both of us were breathing hard and grasping at our chests. It took us a few minutes to calm down and get our breath back. Once Maddox had put enough distance between New Echota and us, he asked, “How in the hell did Jensen know where to find us?”
“Maybe he did a little research and figured out the one place in the state we could go to get the translation?”
“That’s just great.”
“I guess a hotel room is out of the question now, huh? With Jensen and his men all over the area.”
Maddox dug his phone out of his pocket. “Actually, I think I’ve got the perfect place for us to crash, and it’s only about thirty minutes from here. It’s probably the one place Jensen wouldn’t think to look for us.”