“Stop blubbering on me, child.” Aiko propped herself up on the sunshine pillows the nurses insisted on stashing in her room. She didn’t particularly care for the cheery hues, but it made the staff happy, so she obliged. Life was entirely too confounded to pester about the insignificant details. Like the color of pillowcases or blame for making choices that ripped at the heart. Softly, she stroked at the bowed head that lay gently in her lap and thanked the Lord for the astonishing gift. “Mara, honey. You keep on weeping and they’ll have to bring a mop in. Dry your eyes and introduce me to your fiancé. Sarah tells me you two are getting hitched.”
Hiccuping, Mara shot her head up and offered a watery denial. “Not married, no. We just said it to get him in here.” She waved to where Ethan remained in the doorway. “Ethan Stuart, you remember my grandmother, Mrs. Aiko Reed.”
“Ethan? My goodness, let me get a look at you.” Aiko reached for the spectacles she wore on a chunky gold chain around her neck. Given that she was forever misplacing the cursed things, it seemed the best thing to make in the tedious seniors’ jewelry and craft class she took on Wednesday afternoons. “Well, boy, you did grow into a fine drink of lemonade, now didn’t you?”
Flushing, Ethan shifted his feet and barely resisted the urge to mumble Aw, shucks. Instead, he cleared his throat and replied, “You’re looking lovely yourself, Miss Reed. Haven’t aged a day.”
“You’re a liar, boy, but silver-tongued devils are God’s sweet reward for living right.” She waved an imperious hand at him. “Stop holding up the door and come inside. The nosiest biddies live on this wing, and if they get a listen to that lumberjack voice of yours, I’ll have to fake a heart attack to get them out.”
“Wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.” Pleased, he kicked the door closed behind him, not noticing a pair of curious onlookers who’d paused in the hallway. “I appreciate you seeing us on such short notice.”
“Not often I get gentleman callers, Ethan. And when they bring my baby home, I owe them a debt of gratitude.”
“Coming to visit you was Mara’s idea.” He stopped near the bed and laid a soothing hand on Mara’s shoulder. Rubbing his thumb along the wires of tension he could feel beneath, he continued, “She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Mara shot him a grateful look. All the speeches she’d planned over the years—with carefully crafted lies and elaborate explanations—vanished the moment she saw the beautiful, beloved woman responsible for a quarter of her genes. The almond-shaped eyes and their pale brown color, both legacies of Aiko’s Japanese heritage. Exquisite creamy skin wore their eighty-six years with an effortless grace, and as she hungrily studied the beloved features, she catalogued their reflection in her own. The haughty cheekbones, a delicate mouth that pouted slightly, the elfin ears.
“I look like you.”
“Better me than that pinched-faced woman who spawned you,” Aiko affirmed. “Luckily, all you got from her was your nose. Mine would have been too small on that face.”
Instinctively, Mara rubbed at the long bridge. “I guess you’re right.”
“Faces are maps, my dear. Tales of sorrow and triumph.” Lightly, she traced Mara’s brow. “Here, you’ve grown a few lines. Comes from thinking hard. But the furrows aren’t deep, which means you’re probably quick on your feet. Can’t spend too long pondering when there’s a decision to be made.” The fingers trembled almost imperceptibly as they drew the curve of her chin, the sweep of her cheek. “You take care of your skin, use your beauty to your advantage. But you’re not vain.”
“How can you tell that?” Ethan ventured, mesmerized.
“Skin is soft, well-cared for, but not pampered. Mara has seen the world, carries part of it with her, but she knows when she needs to let go.” The tender contact turned firm. “That day, honey, you had to let go. Obadiah didn’t leave you any outs. I knew it then and I understood. I understand. So say your apologies once, for yourself, and let that be the end of it.”
“I should have written.”
“A letter or two might have been nice, but that father of yours probably would have burned it first. Or had one of those hell-spawn deacons do it for him.” Aiko shrugged negligently. “When it counted, baby, you took care of me. After Obadiah passed away, the church folk were simply lost. Deacon Cornelius tried to make a run at anointing himself, but even fools can see dross when they look closely enough.”
“Eventually.”
“But, now, how did you come to hear about your father?”
“The Kiev Post.” At Ethan’s puzzled look, she dipped her head, mortified. “I have a subscription,” she muttered defensively. “People should read the news.”
“Oh.”
Aiko shared a knowing grin with Ethan over Mara’s bent head. “That gorgeous lawyer you sent down told me you’d found this place for me. How is Mr. Caine?”
Ethan scowled at the name, but Mara didn’t notice. “Sebastian is well.” She decided not to mention that Sebastian’s encounters with lawyers likely ended with him pleading no contest. Mara skimmed the room, for the first time taking in the pleated drapes adorned in a symphony of tulips, and the ornate oak bureau that stood sentinel against a buttercup yellow wall. The aged wood had a familiar veneer. “Is that the dresser Grandpa made for you?”
“Carved it himself. Feared he’d cut off his hands, but Micah could do more blind than most sighted men.”
Taking advantage of the opening, Ethan asked lightly, “How did it happen? How’d he lose his sight?”
Aiko stiffened, the gracious smile fading. “Had an accident in 1937.”
“What kind of accident?” Mara patted the hand that rested on her knee. “You’d never talk about it.”
“What’s past is past.”
“Not if it’s trying to hurt your granddaughter,” hazarded Ethan. “Was he hurt during the robbery?”
Narrowed eyes focused on Ethan, then traveled to Mara’s expectant look. With a deflated sigh, Aiko sank into the pillows at her back and shook her head wearily. “Old coot loved to tell this child stories. Would brag about his sins like they were badges of honor.”
“He’d tell me about my legacy. Six bags of gold coins waiting for me to discover them. But you’d never let him finish.”
Aiko gave a short chuckle. “Used to make him right mad. Biggest story of his life, and I wouldn’t let him tell it.”
“Tell me now.”
Hesitant, Aiko cast a suspicious eye over Ethan.
“Who’s trying to hurt Mara? What does a seventy-year-old robbery have to do with anything?”
“A man named Davis Conroy is trying to grab her,” Ethan said. “And he hired me to examine the remains from the cemetery next to the church.” He watched her carefully for reaction, and he got one. “Found your husband’s bones and Poncho’s body. Mara has a journal belonging to Virgil Bailey. He mentions Poncho’s brother Guerva and another man named Reese. What can you tell us about them?”
“Reese. Reese Conroy,” she whispered, nightmare returning with a vengeance that shook her soul. The sins of the father.
“Conroy?” Ethan locked eyes with Mara. “Are you sure?”
Aiko bowed her head. “One doesn’t forget men like him.”
“Who is he, Nana?” Mara cupped Aiko’s cheek, this time to soothe. Fear emanated in stunning waves, mixed with a rage that felt palpable.
“Reese Conroy took Guerva’s life and your grandfather’s sight.” Years later the metallic taste of horror still lingered on her tongue. “Micah led a troop of evangelists. They were also bank robbers. It was a good cover. Negro preachers were a dime a dozen, and no one expected them to steal. Micah worked most of the Hill Country and West Texas before he learned about the greatest heist of his career.”
“The train to the Dallas Fed.” Ethan offered her a glass of water from the pitcher by her bed. “Micah’s job.”
“Slick as satin, he was. They dressed as porters and slipped off the train in San Antonio.” She reached for the glass Ethan held toward her. Sipping slowly, she recounted how they’d come to her booth at the circus with their odd request. “Mortified me, I’ll tell you. Living at a circus quiets most of a lady’s inhibitions, but I’d never seen so many naked derrieres before. Micah had me tattoo these little pictures on the men’s hips. Painful as all hell, because the needle kept striking bone.”
“Greek symbols?” Mara posed the unnecessary question. “Like this?” She pulled Bailey’s journal from her bag and spread it on Aiko’s lap. A gnarled hand traced the swoops and swirls.
“Micah built a safe with four locks. Each man on the team had a key. After the robbery, the men had twenty-four hours to hide their keys and return to the rendezvous spot. Micah got the coordinates, and he translated them into Greek. That way, only he and his men would know the truth.”
Ethan covered Aiko’s hand gently. “If he had the coordinates, he could have dug up the keys himself without waiting on the others, right?”
“Not without a lot of work. The coordinates were imprecise. Follow them and you get to the general area, but you’d never know exactly where to look.” With her free hand she toyed with the chain at her neck. After so long, she hadn’t expected to ever tell the story again. To explain how the gold had been lost. The chain tangled around her fingers as she spoke. “Micah was smart and cautious. As a further precaution, he sent Guerva into the Hill Country with a wagon and the safe.”
“So Grandpa knew the coordinates to the keys and where the safe was hidden?”
“No.” She took another drink of the ice water. The cool relieved her parched throat, easing the story that she told. “Well, he would have, but Guerva never got the chance to tell him.”
“Conroy.” Ethan ground out the name. It was a guess, but given Aiko’s reaction earlier, he figured he was right.
“He didn’t trust Micah or his men. When Guerva returned, Reese panicked. He assumed they were in cahoots and planned to leave him out.” She remembered approaching the campsite, said, “It sounds silly, but I’d fallen in love with Micah in those moments at my tent. So I followed him to the meeting point. I stood in the shadows and overheard the argument. Then I saw Reese attack Guerva.” Rubbing at legs that were no longer capable of such amazing feats, she described flying through the air to stop him. “I got the gun away from him and over to Micah.”
“You can do that?” marveled Ethan.
“Could. Worked for the circus, didn’t I?” Aiko managed a slight grin. “I was quite something in my day.”
“Nana.”
“Yes, well, I tossed Micah the gun, but Reese wasn’t finished. He wrested Bailey’s gun from him and fired. Micah—” Her voice broke over the name. “He pushed me aside. The gunpowder exploded.” She gasped, reliving the moment. “Micah was blinded, permanently.”
The worst told, she slipped her fingers free of Ethan’s and reached for the pull of the nightstand drawer. “Guerva was dead. Poncho devastated. By the time the mess was sorted out, Reese had vanished.”
“Why not recover the gold then?”
“Bailey believed the money was cursed, and the rest of them didn’t disagree. They swore to leave it buried, to not tell a living soul where to find it.”
“Did you know?”
“No, but I understood why they made their vow. Penance takes a lifetime, and your grandfather swore he would pay it.” She rummaged inside and lifted out a miniature frame. Handing the photo to Mara, she pointed to the sepia images inside. Two men stood behind a young Aiko. “That night, your grandfather, Bailey, Poncho, and I buried Guerva in the hills. Poncho and I traveled with Micah for a time, but when your father was born, we moved to Kiev. Micah took up preaching for real.”
“And the gold stayed hidden.” Ethan wandered to the window. “Without Guerva, there was no way to find the safe even if you had the keys. No map, no safe.”
While Ethan spoke, Mara watched her grandmother and saw the almost imperceptible flinch. “What, Nana?”
“That’s not exactly accurate. Guerva didn’t tell Micah where the gold was. But he did tell Poncho.”
“You have a map?” Mara inhaled sharply. “All this time?”
“No, Mara. You have. Since you were five.”
Five? A map? Tidbits of memory became certainty, and suddenly she knew. “Fool’s Paradise. The map is Fool’s Paradise!” Mara bounced off the bed, her head spinning. Why, the crafty old lady! She had the map. Had always had it.
Ethan frowned over the outburst. “Mara? Miss Reed?”
The Reed women stared at each other, both poorly restraining matching smirks. He slanted a confused look between the two. “Does somebody want to clue me in?”
Exuberant, Mara danced over to Ethan and threw her arms around his neck. In reaction, he caught her around the waist to steady the excited movement.
“Stop writhing like a dance-hall lady and tell the boy what you know,” Aiko instructed. The promise she’d made scratched at her conscience, but to her mind, if she didn’t say it, she wasn’t breaking her word. “Tell him.”
“Ethan, I’ve got the map! When I was five, Nana made a quilt for me. It had these odd bumps and valleys. A desert bowl filled with wildflowers, perfect for a little girl’s imagination.” She pointed to Aiko, her heart beating fiercely. “Poncho had his brother’s map. You made it into a quilt and called it Fool’s Paradise.”
“Go on,” she replied, edging closer to the fine line.
“Poncho gave you his brother’s map, and in order not to break your promise, you stitched it into a quilt. And gave it to me.”
“Thought about giving it to Obadiah, but he was too mean.” Another layer of guilt settled snugly, but she was determined to get it all out. “Micah tried to be a good father to the boy, but Obadiah was wild. Hard to control when you can’t see him. Boy had his father’s tongue, though. Could sweet-talk molasses.”
Ethan shifted Mara to curl his arm around her waist, and she leaned into him. “Did Micah tell Obadiah about the gold?”
Aiko noticed the comfortable stance and approved. The boy had adored her Mara, and unless her old eyes deceived, he still did. “When Obie was still a child, Micah had me show him the numbers that I’d tattooed on the men. By then I’d learned Greek.”
“How?” asked Ethan, fascinated. Greek was a difficult language under the best circumstances, but with a blind tutor?
“Micah was a good teacher. I’d describe the letters to him and he taught me the language. The man could teach anything.”
“So Dad learned the numbers. Where did the numerology come in?
“College. Obie fell in with a religious crowd and they taught him some nonsense about sin and sacred numbers. By the time he came back, he was a monster. Headstrong and greedy for power. Took what his father taught him and perverted it.”
“There was nothing you could have done, Nana. He was a grown man.”
“In any event, I chose not to give the quilt to him. Or your mother. But when you came along, I decided you’d be the one who’d find the treasure, if it was God’s will.”
Ethan saw the woman’s certainty, but didn’t quite accept it. “And you believe it is? That God would want your granddaughter to find stolen gold and profit from it?”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways, Ethan. A cliché, but as good an explanation as any. Otherwise, why do you think you showed up again?”
Uncomfortable with religious metaphor and with the knowing look she slanted him, Ethan quickly returned the conversation to more secular ground. “So we have Reverend Reed’s key, the map, and the symbols to find Bailey’s key and Poncho’s. But Reese’s key is lost.”
Mara searched in her bag for her grandfather’s note. Placing the worn paper in her grandmother’s hands, she asked, “Nana, have you seen this before?”
“Micah couldn’t keep his word any better than I have.” She reached out and linked hands with Ethan and Mara, the note on her lap. “Poncho told me that he had sought a resting place for his key.”
Ethan creased his brow. “Resting place? Like a cemetery.”
“Poncho did like cemeteries. Thought it was odd.” Drifting and tired, she squeezed their hands, her eyes firm. One more clue, she thought, and the past would be done. “Listen to me carefully. It only takes three to complete this circle, children. Three. Godspeed.”
They sped along the highway, each lost in thought. Mara considered the implications of her grandmother’s story. Yes, they had the map, and half the coordinates. Bailey’s from the map, Poncho and her grandfather from the bones. She knew they were closer to the gold, but it still felt miles away. Ethan had mumbled something about an idea, but when she pressed him, he demurred. Still, she couldn’t muster irritation, given the annoying gratitude she felt.
Mara folded the note and tucked it into her pocket. If they were going to be hunting gold and artifacts together, she probably ought to clear the air, she thought. Make her amends and whatnot before they got back to the warehouse. She felt like an AA member starting her ninth step. Surely, she warned herself, apologizing and showing gratitude in the same day broke one of her own precious rules. But she couldn’t think of one. Instead, she screwed her courage up and mumbled, “Look, I think I may owe you a thank-you.”
Turning down the radio dial, Ethan glanced over at her and nearly laughed at the pained expression. “Don’t gush, darling. I might get ideas.”
“Shut up and let me finish.” Like a Band-Aid, Mara. Just rip it off. “Okay, well, if you hadn’t been spying on me and saved me and then lied to me about trying to find my family’s treasure—”
“Stolen loot and priceless manuscript,” he interjected. “And I thought this was a thank-you?”
“Hush.” She turned in her seat to face him and leaned forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. “If you hadn’t started me on this path, I wouldn’t have gone to see my grandmother. Thank you.”
“You would have. You love her.”
“Shame is a powerful deterrent, Ethan. I abandoned her.”
“You were just a kid. She understood. And you more than atoned by covering the cost of her swank accommodations.”
“I’m not—that is, I don’t—”
“That’s what you did with the money, isn’t it? You’ve been paying for her care.”
“I owe her.”
“There are cheaper ways to pay a debt, sweetheart.” Ethan could hear the embarrassment, and he found it endearing. “You’re a good person, Mara Elizabeth Reed.”
“Only my grandma calls me that.” Mara set her heels on the dashboard and lifted her hands into the wind. “We’ve still got a lot of problems, Ethan. Finding the other coordinates. Locating the keys. Not getting killed by Conroy and his goons.”
“Don’t worry, Mara Elizabeth. I’ve got a plan.”