by Katie Ashley
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 invade
d 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 fucking 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.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I exclaimed, taking in West’s Roadside Diner.
Maddox killed the engine and then glanced over at me. “What’s the problem?”
I couldn’t even speak—I was that shocked. I mean, when I heard the words, ‘roadside grill’, I expected some kind of restaurant. Instead, I got a stop on the Highway to Hell. All I could do was stare at the gleaming chrome of twenty-something motorcycles littering the front, not to mention the three eighteen wheelers parked in the side lot. “You can’t honestly expect me to go in there!”
Maddox frowned. “And why not?”
“I-It’s like a biker bar from hell or something.”
He chuckled. “Are you seriously afraid?”
Even though I hated to admit it, I bobbed my head.
“Don’t worry. Stick close to me, and you’ll be fine.”
Maddox started to open his door, but I grabbed his arm. “But I’m underage.”
He shrugged. “West’ll smooth it over.” My continued apprehension caused him to make a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “Look, princess, I’m sorry it’s not the Four Seasons, but with Jensen’s men snooping around, hotels are kinda out of the question.”
His sudden attitude caused me to snap, “And just where are we supposed to sleep? On the pool table or behind the bar?”
Maddox gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “West said there’s a room upstairs with a bed and a bathroom that we could crash in. Free of charge.”
I didn’t want to contemplate what the so-called accommodations might look like. I released a sigh, realizing with armed men tracking us and a treasure to find beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Fine, let’s go.”
“Jeez, don’t hurt yourself saying thanks for finding us a place to unwind and sleep,” he grumbled as he slammed the door.
Rolling my eyes, I slung my purse over my shoulder and then hoisted the Cherokee Lore book into the crook of my arm. He came around the front of the truck with a sour look on his face. “I’m sorry, okay? I really appreciate you hooking this up for us.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. In the vast scheme of things, I don’t think Jensen and his men would even think twice about us being holed up in a biker bar.”
Maddox laughed. “No, I don’t suppose they would.”
We started across the parking lot. “So this West guy—you were in the Army together?”
“Nah, we ended up in the same VA hospital. He actually did a tour in Afghanistan—roadside bomb took him out of commission for a while. He’s doing much better now that he’s home and wor
king for his old man.”
“And does this West have a first name?”
Maddox shrugged. “He’s always been West to me.” With a short laugh, he said, “He’s probably got some fruity first name he’s ashamed of like Terry or Sebastian.”
He held the door open for me, resting a hand on the small of my back. The tiny gesture was comforting, but I would have preferred his entire arm around me. Hazy rings of smoke filled the air, stinging my eyes and making me cough. Through my clouded vision, I saw several of the booths and tables were filled. Even though it wasn’t yet Happy Hour, some men in trucker hats lounged at the bar, nursing foamy beers.
A tall, lanky guy with shaggy dark hair stood under a neon Budweiser sign, cleaning glasses with a rag. Even from where I stood, I could see the shrapnel scars on his neck. The sight of us caused his face to stretch into a wide grin. “I’ll be damned! Look what the cat dragged in.”
Maddox’s hand dropped from around me as he reached out to pump West’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, man. Especially outside that shithole of a VA hospital.” He then turned to me. “Lane, this is my buddy West I was telling you about.”
West eyed me from head to toe before grinning slyly at Maddox. “Pickin’ ‘em kinda young now, aren’t you?”
Maddox grimaced as I blurted, “Oh no, we’re not together like that.”
West snorted. “Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before.”
Rolling his eyes, Maddox argued, “She’s nineteen, asshole, and we grew up together. Her dad spent some time with Maudie.”
West didn’t seem to buy Maddox’s explanation. With a wink, he leaned in over the bar. “Can I get you something to drink, sweetheart? Maybe some milk?”
Maddox gave a frustrated grunt. “Listen, man, just give us a break. The last twenty-four hours have been pure hell.”
“Lemme guess. You knocked her up, her parents hate your guts, and now you’re on your way to Ringgold, the elopement capitol of the world this side of the Mississippi?”
Blood rushed to my face. “Excuse me?”
“Lane, he’s—” Maddox began.
“Do I actually look pregnant…you…you asshole?”
