3

Red Falls, Utah

“I PROMISED LIV we’d be home for Christmas, but nooooo. Now, we’ve even missed New Year’s Eve. What’s it been? Three weeks since we left Florida?” Shirley Burnett hugged herself to ward off the cavern’s damp chill. They sat in the dark for hours, terrified to move lest it alert the gunmen of their presence.

“Sorry,” Dude said. His lone word hung in the eerie stillness, broken only by the steady echo of water dripping from stalagmites into a pool. When he’d occasionally shone his light into it, the water’s clear beauty stood in stark contrast to their perilous situation.

“You should be. All our lives I’ve heard about this stupid treasure. Ever since buying the new map, you’ve been obsessed. I thought it was just a hobby, so why in the world are men now shooting at us? None of this makes sense.”

“Don’t you get it? I found it, muffin, the ultimate treasure.”

“No, you didn’t. Otherwise, they would have taken the gold and left us down here to die. Why were they still chasing us?”

“I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“Clearly, you haven’t thought about a lot of things other than that stupid map. What is Olivia going to do without us? She’s already lost so much.”

“We all have to die someday.”

Shirley landed a smack to the nearest body part she could find in the darkness. She thought it was his shoulder but couldn’t be sure and didn’t much care.

“Ouch! Why’d you do that?”

“Because I refuse to die down here. I’m chairwoman of the condo’s Valentine’s Day dance. Plus, we have our fiftieth wedding anniversary in May. I also plan on plenty of dancing there.”

“I hate dancing.”

“You hate anything that doesn’t have to do with this stupid treasure.”

“What is that I hear?” called a male voice from the inky black. “Are we having a lover’s quarrel?”

Shirley scooted closer to Dude, hugging him for all she was worth. She might hate him in the moment, but she’d loved the darned fool her entire life.

She gasped when a figure approached. The head glowed green.

“Ah . . . Look what I found. Palmer! Got ’em!”

He removed what she could only imagine were some sort of high tech night vision goggles. He flipped on a headlamp, shook two chemical light sticks only to toss them into the pool where they glowed nuclear green, bathing the cavern in eerie light. Finally, he shone a flashlight directly into her eyes.

Blinking against the sudden glare, Shirley held her husband tighter.

These weren’t the same men they’d seen earlier. The ones with rifles she recalled having met in town. None of them had high-tech gear.

“Whatever you want,” Dude said with a firm set to his jaw, “we don’t have.”

“But you see,” The man crouched in front of them, “there’s a good chance you do. The funny thing is, you don’t even know it.”

“You already have the gold,” Dude said. “It was back in that first chamber. Just take it and leave us be.”

The man sighed. “If only it were that simple. The chest you found? All it contained was a pair of boots, a few rusty cans and a bottle. What I’m seeking aren’t historic trinkets but something far more valuable.”

“What are you talking about?” Dude narrowed his gaze.

“In due time, I’ll be happy to explain. First, let’s get you and your lovely wife out of these dank surroundings. When I torture information out of good people, I prefer a cozier setting and a nice dry white wine. Much more civilized, don’t you think?”

Shirley opened her mouth to scream, but during the stranger’s speech, more men flooded the room. One of them gagged her, while the other tied her hands behind her back. A second man did the same to Dude.

Terror lodged in her throat while her heart pounded terrifyingly loud in her ears.

This couldn’t be happening.

Their trip was supposed to have been a fun adventure—not a nightmare.

“I think,” the man said while two of his goons manhandled her onto her feet, “that we’ll start with fingernails. I know ladies can be vain about their manicures, so I’ll let you choose which ones I take.”

Shirley struggled and tried screaming, but that only turned her captors meaner. The gag’s dryness and rough texture made her retch. Every forced step made her body hurt all over, grinding like glass shards into her lower back.

Tears of sheer terror spilled. But with the gag firmly in place, there was no outward sound, only the internal riot of her pounding heart and silent screams.

After forty-nine years of marriage, was this how she and Dude would die?