Wallflowers: Double Trouble

by CP Smith

  Bo pulled out his phone, found the picture Moore had sent, and looked at the satellite image again. “What did Black find?” he asked, staring at a dark space in the image.

  “We’ve searched that area. There’s nothin’ but hills and rocky cliffs. Whatever’s on that image may have brought him here, but it doesn’t mean that’s where they’ve hidden the girls.”

  “It’s the key to findin’ them,” Bo said. “I can feel it.”

  Nate pulled in front of the house and climbed out of Bernice’s Jeep. His long strides ate up the ground in front of him. Stopping in front of Devin, he opened his hand and dropped a key on the table sitting between the two men. “That was in Alice’s pocket. I Googled the serial number. It belongs to an old lock they stopped makin’ in nineteen seventy-four. Whatever she was doin’ before she fled, she locked it up.”

  “We’ve checked all the outbuildin’s,” Devin sighed.

  “We’re not lookin’ for a buildin’,” Bo stated, looking at the map. “We’re lookin’ for somethin’ in the ground. Somethin’ only a geologist would see.” Bo’s eyes snapped to Nate. “Gold.”

  Devin jumped up and went inside the house. A minute later, he exited carrying the book Craig had ordered from Amazon. Flipping through the book, he stopped and scanned the pages. Granite, quartz, iron ore, to name a few, were normally found with gold. He turned the book and showed Bo and Nate a picture of the rocks.

  “If Black stumbled across gold while surveyin’ the Winkles’ property, that would explain burnin’ down their house,” Bo said. “If they were ruined, they’d have to sell to the highest bidder.”

  “So how does Craig play into it?” Nate asked.

  Bo looked at the book, then back at the image. “The gray area Black circled, it’s primarily on the Winkles’ side. But the property line is here,” he pointed, “putting a small amount on this side of the land. Craig must have known.”

  “So we’re lookin’ for what?” Nate asked. “A hole in the ground?”

  “No,” Devin said, looking at the book. “A cave.”

  Bo turned as Devin flipped the book around. On the page was a black and white photo of miners standing at the opening of a cave. The picture looked to be at least a hundred years old. “Look for the gold,” he mumbled, remembering his dream. “Find Natasha. She’ll know what outcroppin’s are on both sides.”

  “She’s at the hospital,” Bernice called out, standing in the doorway. “She didn’t want Boris to be alone. I told her I’d call her when we found the girls.”

  “Call her. Ask her to come back,” Devin barked out.

  “Do you know where they are?” Bernice asked, her voice trembling.

  Devin moved to Calla’s aunt and wrapped her in a hug. “I’ll find her,” he vowed low. “I promise.”

  “I know you will,” Bernice answered, returning his hug briefly, clearing her throat as if her moment of worry was an embarrassment. “You’re an Armstrong now, and we always win.”

  A slow grin pulled across Devin’s mouth, and he winked at her.

  The sun rose high enough in the sky that it bounced off the window, blinding Bo with its reflection. He turned and watched as the horizon blazed bright orange, then melded into a golden hue the color of Sienna’s hair.

  “We need to move,” Bo barked. “Send Natasha to find us when she gets here.”

  Nate took the steps two at a time, and Devin followed. They ate up the ground as they headed for the rise, then turned toward the fence line. “We fan out and keep movin’ until we find them,” Bo ordered.

  “If we’re right about the gold,” Nate murmured, “that means the old man and his accomplices killed for it.”

  “Troy said Craig was as mean as they come. That ramshackle house, this barren land, he must have looked across the fence at what the Winkles had built and choked on it daily. If the gray spot on the map is what we think it is, that means the Winkles own the gold. That must have sat like bad beer in his gut,” Bo grumbled.

  “Considerin’ my woman’s missin’, I don’t give a fuck,” Devin growled.

  Bo nodded. He completely agreed.

  They worked their way slowly, stomping on any surface that looked like it could hide a cave opening. After an hour of playing whack-a-mole, Natasha showed up and began pointing up the hill. They moved to her and helped her climb the rocky surface. It took them ten minutes to reach the outcropping. It was covered by grass, barely visible from Craig’s side of the property.

  Bo climbed the side of the grassy hill, looking for an opening. He made it halfway up when he stopped and listened.

  “Do you hear that?” he shouted.

  Devin and Nate followed him up the side, stopping next to him, neither talking as they listened to the wind whipping around them. Then they heard it.

  “Are they singing?” Nate asked, looking at Devin.

  A slow smile crept across his mouth. “The 99 Bottles of Beer song?” Devin asked Bo.

  “Yeah. They’re at thirty-three,” Bo laughed, as the tension he’d been carrying for the past day melted away.

  “They’re alive?” Natasha asked.

  “They are right now,” Devin grumbled, jumping from the mound. “I can’t guarantee it once we find them. I may wring her scrawny neck for puttin’ me through this twice in one week.”

  Bo slapped Nate on the shoulder and followed Devin down. They began searching the mound for the entrance. It took them five minutes to find the fake bush, and another five to find the sheet metal covering the opening. The girls couldn’t hear them over their singing. Bo smiled as he took the key from Nate.

  When they slid the bolt free and swung the door open, the singing stopped abruptly. Devin rushed through the opening first, flashing his light in the huge cavern until he found the three Wallflowers. They caught Poppy with a green bottle halfway to her lips, frozen as she shielded her eyes from the light. Cali gasped, “Devin?” as she stumbled to her feet, then she shouted, with as much indignation as she could. “What the hell took you so long?” then covered her mouth with a grimace.

  Tears began to well when Bo stepped through the opening. My muddled brain, thanks to the green magic fairy potion, wasn’t firing on all cylinders, so I stood there and stared at him like he was an apparition.

  He looked exhausted. His hair was sticking out in every direction, but he still looked sexy as hell.

  He began moving toward me, and I unstuck from my position on the boulder. Then I began running. I launched myself into his arms a foot away. He caught me, buried his face in my neck, and squeezed the life out of me.

  “You found us,” I sighed into his ear.

  Bo squeezed me tighter, then, in a low, growling voice, vowed, “If you ever put me through this again, I’m lockin’ you up and throwin’ away the—”

  “I won’t,” I interrupted. “From now on, we’re listenin’ to you. We promise. No more takin’ risks. Only books and more books.”

  His body relaxed against me, then he pulled back and cupped my face, kissing my forehead, mumbling, “Thank Christ,” against my skin.

  I clutched at him, drinking in his warmth to ward off the cold that had settled deep into my bones.

  A low rumble from Nate, its tone accusatory, broke the air, and I pulled back from Bo. “We’re up all night, worried you’re lyin’ in a ditch somewhere, and you’re gettin’ drunk?”

  Poppy was reaching for the bottle of Absinthe when I looked in their direction. She snatched it from his hand and put the cap back on. “No reason we can’t die happy,” she bit out, then turned and picked up her purse, shoving the bottle inside.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” Bo said, wrapping his arm tightly around my shoulders.

  “Shine your flashlight over there so I can find my purse.”

  Bo raised his light, and the minerals buried deep within the rock sparkled brightly like diamonds. “Jesus,” Bo whispered, moving the light slowly across the wall. “Boris and Natasha are sittin’,”—he smiled—“o
n a gold mine.”

  Red hair caught my attention in the low light, and I closed my eyes. In the darkness, we’d forgotten about Jennifer.

  “You need to call the sheriff,” I called out, nodding toward Jennifer’s body.

  Bo swung the light until it illuminated her body. “Is that the granddaughter?”

  I nodded.

  “How’d she die?”

  I looked back at the girls. “We were strugglin’ for her gun, and it went off. Are we in trouble?”

  “No,” Devin barked out. “You were defendin’ yourselves. Justifiable if the gun proves to have any of your fingerprints on it.”

  “It won’t,” Poppy called out. “Sienna tossed the gun by the barrel but never touched the trigger. Alice took it with her when she left.”

  Nate shone his light on her as she spoke, and he froze. In the low light it was hard to see, so he’d missed the rust-colored bloodstain on the front of her shirt. “Jesus, you’re injured,” he growled low, a hint of panic in his tone, as he reached for her.

  Poppy pulled back and shook her head. “It’s hers,” she answered, nodding toward Red.

  “Alice and Craig are dead,” Bo announced, his voice rough and angry. “They fled together and caused a pileup in their hurry. Craig died at the scene. Alice died at the hospital.”

  I blinked, and sat on the boulder to steady myself. If Bo hadn’t figured out where we were, nobody would have found us.

  “We might have died if you hadn’t found us,” I mumbled, near hysterics. “They were the only ones who could have told you where we were.”

  Bo heard the panic in my voice and moved to me, pulling me back into his arms. “We didn’t find you. You saved yourselves, once again. You and your horrendous singin’.”

  That broke through my panic and I glared back at him. “We are not horrendous singers.”

  “You suck,” Nate called out.

  “We so don’t,” Cali snapped.

  “Babe . . . it was caterwaulin’,” Devin chuckled.

  Bo grinned. “Feelin’ better?”

  I shrugged. “I was until you said my singin’ sucks.”

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Devin said.

  Bo smiled and wrapped his arm around me. “Come on, Pavarotti, let’s get you home.”

  Hours later, after a shower that involved lots of soap and lots of hands and tongues, we were back at Bullwinkle Ranch at Natasha’s insistence. She wanted to thank us for discovering the gold mine with an old-fashioned Bullwinkle Ranch campfire and cookout.

  It felt like half the town wandered the property as music blared from speakers. I wasn’t sure how she managed it, but she had a full bluegrass band and a pig rotating on a spit. Ice-cold beer flowed freely, lightening the mood of all partygoers.

  We may have lost out on our chance for a real cowboy adventure due to all that had happened, but we hadn’t missed out on the ‘End of the Trail’ bonfire and cookout.

  We laughed and raised our glasses, reveling in the atmosphere. Boris was recovering, the ranch was safe, Bo and I were together, and once again, the girls and I had come out of a deadly situation unscathed because the power of friendship and love could not be defeated.

  What more could a Wallflower ask for?

  “I’m keepin’ the gold from Boris until he gets stronger,” Natasha said above the music. “He might have another heart attack if he knows we’ve been sittin’ on a fortune all these years.”

  “I’d keep it from the son, too,” Poppy mumbled under her breath.

  I nodded in response. How such loving people had ended up with a son like that boggled my mind.

  Bo curled his arm around my shoulder and began to draw me away from the crowd. “Where are we goin’?”

  “You’ll see,” he said, pulling me into the horse barn.

  Inside, Goliath was saddled, and a large pack was laid out across his back.

  Troy held his reins, grinning.

  “What are you up to?” I asked.

  Bo flashed me a quick smile, then stuck his left foot into the stirrup and climbed on the horse’s back. I crossed my arms and looked up at him, raising a brow. Bo crooked his finger. I stepped closer. In a single fluid movement, he reached down and picked me up, sitting me across his lap just like one of the heroines in my romance novels.

  My white knight in Wranglers.

  A strong arm wrapped around my waist as the other reached out to take the reins, then, with a, “Let’s go,” and nudge of his boot, he urged Goliath to take off into the pasture.

  I turned and wrapped my arms around his waist, laying my head on his shoulder. “I thought I wasn’t allowed on anything with four legs.”

  A slow grin pulled against his mouth. “As long as I’m with you, you can do whatever you want.”

  Such a Neanderthal.

  The sun began to set as we made it to the top of the rise. Bo pulled Goliath to a halt, and we looked back at the ranch below us.

  “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”

  I turned to look at Bo. His eyes were a sparkling silver, and they were staring at me instead of the view below. “Yeah. Beautiful,” he said, then brushed a kiss across my mouth.

  We kept riding up the rocky hill until we came to a wide meadow full of endless pink and purple wildflowers. The sky above it bled from orange to red, kissing the field. As we rode across the meadow, the wind blew the flowers softly, stirring them until their fragrance filled the air.

  Bo reined in Goliath near a babbling brook. The cool water washed over the smooth rocks, sparkling like crystal in the fading sun. I took in the scenery and filled my lungs. The air up here was as clean as the water trickling down the stream.

  “You didn’t get your overnight underneath the stars,” Bo whispered in my ear. “So I’m improvisin’.”

  I turned in my seat and smiled like a loon. “We’re campin’ out?”

  “You’re cute when you’re excited,” Bo chuckled.

  I felt carefree now that the mystery had been solved, so I batted my eyes like a Southern belle and asked, full-on Georgia peach, “When else am I cute?”

  His smile widened. “When you’re flushed with passion after takin’ my cock.”

  I gasped. Then I sputtered. “You are…are…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Naughty. Very, very naughty.”

  Bo pulled me sharply into his chest. “You haven’t seen naughty yet.”

  My breath froze in my lungs at the promise in his words. “I’m gonna climb off now,” I sputtered.

  Smirking, Bo slid me slowly to the ground, then followed gracefully like he’d been born to be in a saddle.

  “Do you miss bein’ on a ranch?” I asked as he pulled the pack from the horse’s back.

  “Sometimes,” he answered. “Times like these,” he said distantly, looking around the meadow. “You can’t think in the city, not like out here.”

  “Savannah’s not exactly a huge, sprawlin’ metropolis.”

  “No,” he grinned. “It’s just the right size for a country boy like me.”

  Bo started to lead Goliath to the water, but I stopped him with my hand.

  “Teach me to ride?”

  I expected Bo to say no. Instead, he grabbed my waist and lifted me onto Goliath’s back. Before handing me the reins, he looped a long rope, used to tie off the pack, into the horse’s bridle, and then walked him to the center of the meadow.

  “Loosen your grip,” he called out.

  I did as he said, then sat myself deeper into the seat like Boris had taught me.

  “Now ride,” he said, smiling.

  I gave Goliath a nudge with my boots, and he began trotting. Bo kept a tight hold on the rope, walking in circles as he watched me bounce on the horse’s back. My hair flew behind me as we picked up speed, and soon I was cantering. I felt free riding on the beast’s back, while Bo kept me safe, like I could spread my wings and fly. Laughing with the freedom that comes with being at peace with your world, I grinned
at Bo as we circled wide. I was one with the arrogant beast. I had not a care in the world. No mother criticizing me. No father ignoring me. It was just me, Bo, and a beautiful sunset putting the world to bed.

  “Sun’s settin’, rein him in,” Bo called out, so I pulled back until he stopped.

  “I could do that all day!” I cried out. “How do you not miss this?”

  Grinning at my enthusiasm, Bo led the horse near the stream and helped me down. “Growin’ up on the back of a horse, I never saw it as entertainment.”

  “Tell me about your father,” I said softly.

  He’d mentioned he was dead, while we lay together in the early morning light the day before. But I didn’t push him. We were happy, content in our cocoon, so I’d let it go.

  “He was a proud man,” Bo began. “Too proud. He took my mother’s abandonment as a personal affront. He should have brooded over her for a month or two and moved on.”

  He’d been taking off Goliath’s saddle as he spoke. Surprisingly, there was no anger in his voice, only resignation.

  “Did you blame him when she left?”

  He shook his head, then led Goliath to the stream to drink. He was making sure the horse was taken care of first like I’d read about in historical romance novels. Knights and cowboys alike knew their mount was the most valuable thing they owned. They took good care of them because their mounts were the difference between life and death most days.

  I smiled at the thought. Bo was old school.

  “Do you blame your mother for your father leavin’?” Bo asked, catching me off guard.

  “Yes,” I answered immediately. I hadn’t thought about it. No searching my subconscious for the answer. I blamed her for taking him away from me, and I also blamed her for keeping my biological father away.

  “Have you ever looked for your biological father?”

  I shook my head. “All I know is that he was a gym manager. I don’t even know the name of the gym or if she was tellin’ the truth about the affair. She won’t talk about it.”

  He searched my face, gauging my answer. “Do you want to know?”

  “Of course. I have another family out there. I could have brothers and sisters who look just like me. Who act just like me.”