“Of course. And we go through training to minimize the risk. The toughest part is realizing that no matter how great a shot you are, no matter how strong you are, you’re still vulnerable. That’s the human condition. Dallas knows that, too, but when you lose someone close to you, it just takes time.”
“So there is no safe place, really, not for anyone,” Hannah said.
“No. We just walk into more dangerous situations that offer more opportunities for bad things to happen.”
“I guess life itself is a crapshoot,” Hannah said.
“More or less. Except, in this crapshoot, we’re lucky. We know there’s more than meets the eye.”
“Enough depressing talk. I’ll start some lunch,” Hannah said.
“And I’ll help you.”
They had barely begun when Hannah’s phone rang. Dallas was back at the front door. She hurried to let him in. He still had a distant look about him. She realized she’d only known him a few days; she didn’t really have any idea what made him tick. Being intimate with him hadn’t opened him up as if he were a book.
“We’re making lunch,” she said.
“Food. Good. The couple who were with Yerby when she was killed are working with a police artist. I’ll be taking the sketch to the docks. Logan is up in Miami, and Liam and his men are rounding up Blade, Hammer and Pistol.”
“You know who they are?” Hannah demanded. Something inside her gave a little leap.
Maybe there was hope!
“Yeah. Where’s Kelsey?”
“Kitchen.”
“We’ll join her, then I won’t have to repeat myself.”
Food and iced tea were on the table—cold cuts, cheeses, lettuce, tomatoes and condiments—and Dallas spoke as he put a sandwich together.
“The sketch Katie helped with led to the man who’d been in the bar and then on the ghost tour. He swears he didn’t do any of the killing and that they had no idea Jose was going to be murdered, and we believe him. He gave us the names of the other men in the group. Also, we have his phone. The tech people will trace the call history, but the Wolf changes phones constantly and has a new number each time. After all that, I went to see the couple who were diving with Yerby when she died. They remember seeing a diver who matched the description Yerby gave, so they’re working with an artist on a sketch.”
“It was a good morning, then,” Kelsey said.
“Except,” Dallas said disapprovingly, staring straight at Hannah, “you let someone in after I told you not to.”
“It was Valeriya. Seriously, Dallas, you’ve seen her. She’s just trying to stay in the United States and find the American Dream, and if she doesn’t work, that can’t happen.”
“Do you know how many people have seen the American Dream as a chance to get rich through illegal means?” he asked.
“I’m more afraid for Valeriya than I am of her,” Hannah told him.
He shook his head. “Still,” he said quietly, “no one else comes in here until we solve this.”
Hannah opened her mouth to argue and then didn’t. He made her crazy, coming on like a general and then softening to make his commands sound like requests.
“If you’re going to blame Hannah, you have to blame me, too. I figured that, on top of everything else, there was no reason to send the woman to the poorhouse,” Kelsey said.
“And don’t forget, it’s because of Valeriya, I found the key—for whatever it may be worth,” Hannah said.
“The key...yes, let’s see it,” Dallas said.
Hannah drew the key from her pocket. “It looks really old,” she said as she handed it over.
Dallas took it from her and lifted it up to the light. Hannah studied it from that new angle and drew a sharp breath.
“What?” Dallas asked.
“The insignia on the end—I know what it is,” she said excitedly.
“What?”
“It’s the coat of arms of Duke Ricardo Montoya de la Geraldo.”
“Who?” Kelsey asked.
“Kelsey, come on! You know the legend. Geraldo, as he was called, was the Spanish nobleman who sailed the Santa Elinora. The ship whose treasure started this whole mess,” Hannah said.
Dallas studied her. “So,” he said softly, “that could mean the treasure really is here.”
Hannah shook her head. “No, the treasure is not in the house. I mean, feel free to look, but workmen have been in here too many times to count over the years. There is no basement, just a foundation that reaches down into the coral. You can’t dig a basement here, because it gets watery as soon as you go down too far, trust me. And we used to play in the attic, so I know there are no secret walls or anything. The missing chest is not in this house.”
“But this might well be the key to it,” Dallas said.
“It could be the key, but would anyone—especially a man like the Wolf—risk so much and kill two people just to find a key when all he’d have to do is break open an old chest to get to the treasure?”
“We’re back to perception,” Dallas said. “The chest may not be here, though I’m not a hundred percent certain of that. But maybe some clue to finding the chest is here, along with the key.”
“I’m telling you, this place has been lived in continuously since it was built. It’s been repaired, painted, explored, you name it.”