LITMIR.BIZ

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What if her father was really and truly guilty? What if there was even more to it, more things he had done? Her mind cringed away from those stray thoughts. Some ideas were just too painful to explore.

      Too soon, Shangri-La loomed on the hill ahead. She remembered she’d told Carl she would be back in time to go over the map with him again. That hadn’t happened. The time had long passed. He was going to be angry.

      Oh well.

      She turned back to look at Marc.

      “Can I come with you to your neighbor’s?” she asked him. “I don’t want to go back to the house just yet.”

      He nodded, his face unreadable. “Sure,” was all he said.

      But he didn’t complain when she leaned back against him. He was strong and warm and she had a sudden fantasy of letting him be her champion in the world. She could use one. The only problem was, she had a feeling he wasn’t in the market for a girl like her. After all, she tried to get his attention before, when she was a chubby young adolescent. That hadn’t worked out so well.

      Now she was back and he only cared because she was threatening his family’s reputation with her crazy theories and searches. But at least he was paying attention now. She smiled at the irony of it all.

      “How can big things happen—big, important things that change the shape of our lives—and a few years later no one remembers anything about them?” she asked him over her shoulder.

      He didn’t answer for a long moment. Finally he leaned forward and spoke softly in her ear. “The people who are directly affected remember. Sometimes it takes a surprise to get them to open up to the past once they’ve tried to put it behind them. But they remember when they have to.”

      She wasn’t sure she bought that. It seemed as though her father had passed through this life without anyone much noticing him. He’d tried so hard to be a good man and good at his chosen profession—and he’d done well at both. But when his heart got broken, so did his spirit—which started the chain of tragedy that pretty much ruined her whole family. And no one seemed to care.

      If only the treasure had never disappeared. If only they had stayed and she’d finished her childhood here where she belonged. He would still be alive today, and her mother wouldn’t be the faded shell of a woman that she was. Everything would have been so different.

      She glanced back at Marc. His father might still be alive, too. And Ricky? She didn’t really know what had happened there and Marc definitely bristled whenever she asked questions.

      If only she could pretend she was any closer to finding out about her father. She’d always had a feeling deep in her heart that clearing his name would change everything. It wouldn’t bring any of those people back to life, of course, but it would surely brighten her mother’s life—and her own.

      Funny, but in some ways she had begun to realize that she felt close to Marc. He was a part of her past. She might even venture to call him a part of her present. There was a reserve in him that appealed to her.

      And then she frowned, wondering if it was really just a certain dignity that set him apart—or was it actually a wariness, and a basic distrust of her and who she was.

      They delivered the horse to the neighbor and got into Marc’s long, low sports car. She expected him to turn for home, but instead, he took a side road that took them on a curvy two lanes into the hills. He pulled into an overlook and turned off the engine.

      “Wildflowers,” he said by way of explanation.

      She looked out and sighed. “Wow. How beautiful.”

      The hills were covered with masses of golden California poppies fighting for space with sky-blue lupine and bright yellow mustard, all dancing in the breezes. In the distance, looking back at the way they’d come, she could see the blue ocean. Oaks and flowering purple bushes filled the valleys. It was one of the most beautiful places she’d ever seen.

      They got out and walked to the edge of the overlook, leaning against the guardrail that had been put up for just that purpose. She breathed in the beauty, but all the while, she couldn’t ignore the sense of presence in the man beside her.

      She finally turned and smiled at him. He didn’t smile back, but his eyes were warm and she was beginning to think they might have a tender moment, if she played her cards right. Her heart began to thump a bit harder.

      And then he pulled her right back into the maelstrom.

      “Have you decided what it is that Carl’s looking for yet?” he asked her.

      Carl. Her shoulders sagged and she felt a pang of guilt. He must be wondering where she was. But she knew he would want more than simple work on the map. He was going to insist she come with him to the caves and show him what she knew. She wanted to avoid this at all costs.

      “Uh...no,” she responded evasively. “Why? What’s your theory?”

      He shrugged and looked out at the hills. “I think he’s after the same thing most people who come nosing around here are after: the Don Carlos Treasure.”

      “But...” She hesitated, biting her lip. This was what really bothered her. “I thought your father sent it to the bottom of the sea when he sailed out that awful day. Wasn’t that the story? And then his boat capsized and he...he...”

      “He went down with the treasure. At least, that was what his suicide note said he was planning to do.”

      “Is there really any proof that he took the treasure out there with him? Does anyone know for sure if it’s really down there?”

      He didn’t answer. She watched as his handsome face turned to granite. Reaching out, she touched his arm.

      “I’m sorry, Marc. I know it brings up unhappy memories to talk about it.”

      He turned and stared down at her. “If we don’t talk about it, we’ll never get to the truth. And this may surprise you, but I want the truth as much as you do.”

      She searched his eyes. Was that really true? What do you know? Just as he had decided that, she was becoming more ambivalent. What if the truth only made things worse?

      But Marc seemed to be transitioning into a philosophical mood. He leaned out over the railing and looked toward the ocean in the distance and went on, almost as though to himself.

      “You know, I hadn’t thought about it all, the whole situation, for a long time. Years. I was sort of blocking it out.” He glanced sideways at her. “There were a lot of people at the time who asked the same questions you just asked. How did we know the treasure was truly gone? We had people coming here in droves, sneaking onto the property, digging up the rose garden, moving logs around, trying their best to find out where he’d actually hidden the treasure. It was like the California gold rush all over again.”

      “How awful.” She glanced away, wondering if he looked at her as one of those scavengers. Why not? In a way, she was like them. Only she already had a part of the treasure. He just didn’t know about that, and she hoped she was going to leave without him finding out. What she was after was the explanation. That was all.

      “It didn’t let up for a long time. Marge was always calling the police, and then there would be a confrontation. I didn’t have to deal with it, since I was overseas. But I sure heard a lot about it.”

      “From Marge?”

      “Yeah. She wanted to sell from the beginning. I kept trying to talk her out of it.”

      “But she kept things going around here.”

      He nodded. “I’ve got to give her that one. She did okay for a good long while. She kept writing me about these great offers she was getting, and then they always fell through. After awhile, she gave up. I hadn’t heard from her about selling for about five years now.” He ran his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “But this time she’s determined. This time, she’s going to sell.”

      “And

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