Randall waited, rubbing his hands together slowly as I thought this through.
“You think they aren’t professional,” I said.
He nodded.
“But you still think that they’re on to something. That they’re more than just ordinary thrill seekers?”
“I’d stake my reputation on it.” He grinned. “And for the record, it’s still a good one, just not as well-known as it once was.”
I dismissed the caveat with another wave of my hand. “I just don’t know what I can do…”
He interrupted me again. Leaning closer, he covered my bandaged hand with his own.
“Madeleine,” Randall said. “Bring me that letter and I promise you, one way or another, we’ll put a stop to this for good.”
His eyes, dark as mahogany and deep as the fathomless sea, caught mine and held them. I hesitated.
“Work with me, not against me,” he said again, “and I promise you, we will find it. Together, we will end this.”
He said it as though I’d believe him and the funny part was, I did. For the first time since we’d met, I believed that what he was telling me was the simple unadorned truth. We could work together and we would find it.
Yet I hesitated. I faltered, not because I thought at last that he might be right. I faltered because here was offered help.
But again, it was the wrong person offering it.
Joe offered – in his own way, he offered and you didn’t accept.
If I worked with Randall, there was still that chance that there was nothing to find – that we’d both end up empty-handed, looking like fools. The truth about the Beaumont letter would come out, because I knew that if I worked with Randall, I would have to cleanse my conscience of that stain. If there was nothing to be found - or worse, there was, but these hunters beat us to it - I would be ruined. Financially, personally, and irreparably.
Joe had offered me a way out, permission to leave this mess behind and start fresh. I could give up, sell out, and move on. I might be able to use Joe’s influence to mitigate the Beaumont affair and come out, if not ahead, at the very least even.
So yes, Joe had offered a form of help, but it wasn’t one I could accept. For one thing, I wouldn’t feel right relying on him until our relationship was cemented, and I knew I wouldn’t allow that to happen until this digging stopped. But beyond that, today’s accident made me realize that I was living in fear, cringing through life, waiting for the next hammer to fall. I’d allowed these hunters, these intruders as Randall called them, to dictate the kind of life I lived. No amount of financial freedom could make up for the loss of self-respect.
All of this ran through my head in a matter of seconds; but in that short span of time, my entire life pivoted, and the new direction took my breath away.
Randall was still waiting, the lines deepening on his face. I was surprised to see resignation wash over his expression. Then I remembered that we’d had this conversation before, and he’d made practically the same promise. I scoffed at him then and did my best to make his life miserable - not that his ego couldn’t use the humbling. He must have thought my hesitation was due to doubts about his abilities, a wounding thought. He had no way of knowing that hurting him was no longer at the top on my list.
I found my voice.
“All right, professor.” My voice was shaky, but resolute. “Consider us partners until the treasure is found.”
His surprise was so great it was nearly audible.
I withdrew my hand and avoided looking at his face as I rose. “Today is Sunday. I’ll get you that letter tomorrow,” I said, and left him sitting in the kitchen.
I took a shower, got dressed, and got on with my day. When Aunt Susanna asked about my injured hands, I told her I’d tripped. And when Joe texted me from California, I asked him about the weather.
Chapter 20:
Monday dawned and I rose early, conscious of the fact that for all the changes that had taken place yesterday, much had remained the same. I had an ally, but we were still under siege.
I ran for longer and only barely managed to cover a little more of the trails than usual before having to come in for chores, breakfast, and then rush to open the office. There was another hole, this one on the far end of the property, too great a distance for me to run back and forth for the shovel. I filled it with nearby rocks and branches, making an obvious lump for the riders to avoid.
This new hole unnerved me and for the first time, I found myself seriously considering closing the trails down. It was impossible to cover more ground than I was already doing, and I worried that there were other holes that I was missing. I was concerned enough that I left a note on Aunt Susanna’s coffee mug, warning her that I’d found another and leaving the decision to close the trails for the day up to her.
Also on my plate were the riding camps that were due to start next week, which I’d be doing without Lindsay’s aid for the first time. This meant I’d have to take four weeks off from work. I’d asked for the time off a few weeks earlier, and reminded my boss of the fact when she came into the office this morning. She remembered, though reluctantly.
“It’s the usual summer rush,” she said, pursing her lips and tapping them with her steepled hands. “Everyone’s dog has ticks, everyone has time to come for the annual checkups. Do you think Che Che can handle the load?”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” I said, although I wasn’t sure at all. Even during the slow times, the office work could be daunting - and here I was taking not one week off, but two this month and two the next.
My boss looked concerned.
“Maybe I should get someone in to cover,” she mused. “Someone who can be more reliable during the summer months…”
I left the meeting in vague discomfort. I was already taking three of these weeks off without pay, a financial loss that was covered by the camps, which I was convinced was the way of the future for the farm. Now I wondered if I’d have a job to come back to.
I worried about it so much throughout the day that Che Che, noticing my taciturn mood, asked me if everything was all right with Joe. I let her assume that my preoccupation was with him. Being lovelorn was easy. Being besieged by treasure hunters, little girl riders, and job worries was a little more difficult to explain.
As promised, I went to the bank during my lunch break and withdrew Alexander Chase’s letter from the safety deposit box. I returned home to find Jacob by the back door, working on Uncle Michael’s bicycle.
It was a fine, expensive bicycle, a sturdy off-roader that Aunt Susanna had bought him several years ago, when he was considering joining a men’s trek team up Mount Washington. But the team never formed and the bicycle was rarely used, for he much preferred riding horseback to biking. When he died, Aunt Susanna couldn’t bear the sight of it, so we’d put it in the barn and forgot about it.
Seeing it in Jacob’s hands was disconcerting, but I rallied, thinking, Better someone should make good use of it. I even managed to smile when Jacob raised his head to greet me.
“It’s a fine bicycle,” I said quietly. “Do you ride often?”
“Yeah, it’s all right,” he said. “It’ll be ready for tomorrow, no problem.”
I thought it an odd thing to say, but chalked it up to “things teenagers said” and went inside.
The kitchen was empty. According to his usual schedule, Randall would be in his office, either finishing a new chapter or editing an old one, but not to be disturbed in any case. The letter, the precious, troublesome Alexander Chase letter was in a protective sheet in the briefcase that I’d brought just for the purpose. It was safe enough, but I burned to have it out of my hands and in someone else’s care. I could do without yet another responsibility.
I was tempted to interrupt the professor, but the happy babble of female voices coming from the living room drew my attention. Two of those voices were easily identified as Aunt Susanna and Darlene, sounding brighter and happier than I could recall hearing i
n a long time. The third voice was so quiet that I couldn’t make it out.
I was standing in the hallway by the office door and listening in on the conversation in the living room, when Aunt Susanna hobbled out into the hallway, laughing. She broke off when she saw me.
“Oh, Maddie, you’re home, good! Come and join us. I have someone here I want you to see.” When I gestured to the office door, she said, “He’s out walking around the grounds and won’t be back for a while. Come on! We have a visitor.”
She looked mysterious and I couldn’t imagine who it was that could elicit that reaction. Thus I was completely unprepared when I walked into the room and saw Lindsay sitting in the armchair beside Darlene.
It is one thing knowing, intellectually, that someone is healing from an accident. It is another to see them sitting in a chair, holding a glass of lemonade, smiling up at you from under their familiar bangs, looking as though nothing had changed in the four weeks since you’d seen them last - as though that awful night in the ambulance had never occurred.
“Hey, Boss!” Lindsay said, her voice low and musical. “Miss me?”
I don’t remember dropping the briefcase, but it wasn’t in my hands when I wrapped my arms around her. She was laughing, protesting, her voice welcome in my ear.
“Not too tight, Boss,” she said, her laughter taking the sting out of the admonition. “The doctors say I’m stubborn, but still pretty fragile.”
I could feel the brace under her printed t-shirt, and I loosened my grip. When I pulled away to look at her, I could see its faint outline under the thin material. There was an arm brace, too, black and unobtrusive, another reminder that she might be back, but she was no more whole than any of the rest of us in the living room that afternoon.
I was assailed by another wave of anger against the thugs that were digging up my beautiful farm, but I bit it back. I reminded myself that they weren’t important. What mattered was that we were here, together. Battered and bruised, but not shattered.
Aunt Susanna poured me a glass of lemonade. Darlene made room on the couch and for a little while, chores were forgotten. The lemonade was tart and sweet, the laughs quick and frequent. Lindsay, though a little slower than before, was as bubbly as ever. She had already visited the stables and said hello to all of her buddies, both four-footed and bipedal, and she was enthusiastic about Jacob.
“He’s awesome,” she said, and didn’t even flinch when the two older women nudged each other. “I wonder where Professor Randall found him.”
When the three of us exchanged looks, she laughed.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I know that he’s here to find the Chase Treasure, which is so cool, and that it’s a secret, which is even cooler, and that he’s undercover as a novelist for the summer - which is just, like, so awesome I can’t stand it.”
“But how did you know?” Aunt Susanna asked.
Darlene folded her arms and fixed my assistant with a mock-stern look. “I suppose,” she said, “that you wheedled it out of Jacob. Most boys can’t resist a pretty face.”
Lindsay smiled wryly.
“It wasn’t entirely his fault,” she said. “I guessed most of it from what my girls were telling me and what you three weren’t telling me. Did you really expect me to believe that Maddie would let a romance writer bum a free summer’s stay off of her? She’s smarter than that.” She leaned forward, suddenly sober, her large eyes connecting with mine. “Anyway, when I realized that you hadn’t called the police about the diggers after my accident, I figured you must have a better plan in mind. After all, relying on them didn’t really work any better than the Beaumont letter, even when we thought it was real.”
I physically flinched; but, of course, none of them knew the whole truth about the Beaumont letter. What worried me was the thought that the knowledge was spreading fast, too fast. The professor needed time to conduct his investigation properly.
If I can’t stop the truth about the Beaumont letter from spreading, I’d better help Randall get to the truth faster.
The thought came fully formed and unprompted, surprising me with its clarity. It was true: helping him was the only option left to me. And Randall needed help. I was by no means an expert, but I could provide knowledge that might take an outsider hours to uncover. After all, I’d picked up a lot over the years. It was time I stopped balking and put it to good use.
The idea of working with such an irritating snob still grated on me. I wasn’t sure I could do it without wanting to wring his neck, but now it was clear that doing so was a necessary evil. His expertise would go a long way towards clearing up the issues surrounding the treasure myth. And if nothing else, his testimony might help, should the Maddox family decide to sue.
In the briefcase at my feet was the letter from Alexander, the supposedly coded letter that he sent to his mother on the eve of his imminent death. The professor wasn’t the first person to think that it was the key to everything, but he was probably the only person who could prove that it actually was. It would be my first gesture of real cooperation.
All of this whirled through my mind in a mere moment. I had only just resolved everything when Lindsay reached for the backpack at her feet, still chattering.
“…So that’s when I came up with up with this new lesson plan,” she said, and I was surprised to realize that I had missed some conversation.
“What?” I asked, blinking. “What did you say?”
Lindsay’s brace creaked ever so softly as she pulled her tablet out of her bag, stray wisps of hair falling into her eyes as she bent. “Daydreaming, Boss?”
“She’s had so much on her mind lately,” Aunt Susanna said.
“Working overtime, too,” Darlene added, her keen eyes fixing on me until I flushed. “It’s a wonder that she’s able to stay awake at all.”
“I’m fine,” I objected. “I was just distracted. What were you saying, Lindsay?”
She brushed the hair out of her eyes as she waited for her tablet to load. “I said that you owe me for a few day’s work from home.”
The pleased grin on Aunt Susanna’s face only deepened my confusion. “Working from home? How does that work?”
Lindsay practically bounced in her seat. “It works. You see, I figured you and the professor had enough on your plates without having to worry about the day camps, too. After all, you weren’t expecting to have to run those. They’re my babies, and I really didn’t want to give them up, even after the accident. By the way, it isn’t fair that I have to stay off of horses for so long. I’m perfectly fine.”
I pointed a finger at her. “If you think for one instant that you are going to lead those lessons while you’re still under doctor’s orders, you’re crazy. I won’t let you.”
She only grinned. “You will when you see what I have in mind. Anyway, you’re already outvoted. Darlene and Aunt Susanna think it is brilliant, which it is. Look at this and prepare to be amazed.”
She flipped the tablet around and showed me a spreadsheet, five days of lessons, planned by the hour. She’d reorganized the whole thing, devoting the mornings to non-horseback activities like tack care, exercises for the girls, equestrian history, and detailed care studies. The afternoons, she told me as I read it, would be when they actually got on the horses. For three of the afternoons they would stay in the ring, where Jacob - who’d already been recruited - would guide the horses while Lindsay and Aunt Susanna coached from the sidelines.
“Aunt Susanna will coach?” I asked in disbelief.
Both of them nodded.
“It’s time I got back into the saddle,” Aunt Susanna said. “Figuratively, of course. With my knees, it’ll still be a few weeks before I can actually get onto a horse.”
While I stared dumbly, Lindsay said, “It’ll work perfectly. This way, you only have to take two afternoons off a week, if you still want to do trail riding. Between Jake, Aunt Susanna, and me, we’ve got everything else handled. Darlene volunteered to help with the lunches,
so that’s all set…”
“I’ve got nothing else to do anyway,” Darlene shrugged.
“…And I can still take care of all the paperwork and everything,” Lindsay chirped. “I get to keep my job, and the girls can still do their camp while you and the professor are out chasing bad guys and finding buried treasure.” She clapped her hands together and grinned like a child who has just discovered the cookie jar. “It’s perfect.”
I looked at the plan mutely. It was a very good plan. Better, in fact, than the camps we’d had in the past. Lindsay had obviously put a lot of thought into it. I hesitated to have her work, even superficially with the animals. But if Jacob was there, maybe it was possible to do it safely.
It would solve so many problems, not the least of which was allowing me to work mornings at the vet’s in the summer, something that would greatly ease the financial burden. But still, I couldn’t just say yes.
“What’s the catch?” I asked. “What are you all up to?”
They looked so innocent that for a moment, I thought I was mistaken.
Darlene said, “Is it so impossible to think that we just want to help?”
I knew, from her tone, that I was not mistaken.
“It’s entirely possible,” I admitted. “And this would be a great help, an enormous help. I can’t even tell you… But I don’t think helping me is the entire reason you’re volunteering in this way. I get the feeling that there is something more going on here and I want to know.”
They glanced at one another and hesitated. Not surprisingly, it was Aunt Susanna who finally responded.
“Well, it isn’t every day that you have a real, old fashioned treasure hunt right in your backyard, Madeleine,” she said defensively. “Can you blame us if we want to get involved?”
“All we want,” Lindsay added, “is a piece of the action. We want in.”
“Is that too much to ask?” Darlene asked.
Under the circumstances, I had to admit that it wasn’t.
“Anyway,” Lindsay said, as though in summation, “the sooner we solve this treasure mystery, the sooner you can get these diggers off of your land and make it safe to ride again.”
Necessary Evil Page 19
