Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“That’s a good bet,” I agreed, relieved that she saw Callum Leary for what he was. I knew she wasn’t close to ready to forgive me, but at least she didn’t hate me enough to hook up with a criminal just to get back at me.
“Second,” she said, giving me an appraising look, “I think it’s pretty clear I need you to solve this. Boathouse isn’t exactly a street address. But you know what it means, don’t you?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I took a lick of the strawberry ice cream, letting it melt across my tongue, bringing me back to the past. To sitting under this very tree, on this exact bench, with my dad.
I knew exactly what boathouse meant. And I knew that whatever my father had in mind all those years ago, getting to the next clue wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d planned.
Chapter Ten
STERLING
Ishould have been worried about the Learys. I should have been calling my brother or Hawk to let them know things had just gotten more complicated. I was more interested in the look on Forrest’s face.
“Does the clue refer to an actual boathouse?” I asked, my eyes roaming the square as I ate my salted caramel cone, making sure the Learys didn’t pop back up.
Forrest took another slow lick of his ice cream. The delay felt like a tease. Or maybe he just liked knowing something I didn’t. Or he was pissed off that I hadn’t shut down Callum Leary. He’d have to live with it.
I wasn’t sure Forrest could understand the danger of saying a flat no to Callum Leary. I’d learned the hard way that there was a certain type of man who didn’t like women telling them no. Callum Leary felt like one of those men to me. Refusing to take his card could have been an act of war. I wasn’t sure I wanted it in my pocket, but taking it had been simpler than refusing. I’d figure out what to do with it and Callum Leary later.
“So?” I prompted, tired of waiting.
“It’s a place,” Forrest said. “But this isn’t going to be easy.”
“Where is it, and why not?” I asked, ready to catapult off the bench and onto the next clue.
I wanted the money. Of course, I did. But it wasn’t just about the cash. Not anymore. I was chasing the win, the rush of elation when I worked the clue and the cipher, when I finally put the pieces in place, and the answer revealed itself. It was like my programming classes and the sense of satisfaction I got when I finished a new project, hit run, and my code worked. Except solving Forrest’s father’s clues was like that times a hundred. I wanted more, even if it meant torturing myself by spending time with Forrest.
“Well,” Forrest said, after taking a last lick of his cone, “the boathouse is at the lake house. And my mother sold the lake house after my father died.”
“Oh.” I sank back into the bench. I hadn’t thought about that. Alan Buckley had put this whole scavenger hunt together years ago, and I was starting to wonder if he’d intended to be at Forrest’s side as he tackled the clues. Maybe Alan had planned to pass down his interest in ciphers. We’d never know.
“Where is it?” I wasn’t going to give up just because somebody else owned the boathouse.
“On a small, private man-made lake about three hours from here. To the west. Not quite headed back to Sawyer’s Bend but in that general direction.”
“And what kind of lake house are we talking about?” I pressed. “A cottage with a little boathouse or a mini-mansion packed with security?”
“Cottage-ish with a boathouse,” he said. “Not packed with security when we lived there. Probably not now. As best as I can remember, it wasn’t that kind of town. Wasn’t much of a town at all.”
I stood, brushing the crumbs of the cone off the front of my jeans and tossing my hair back over my shoulder. It was a beautiful summer day. Sunny and warm, but not miserably hot. A good day for a car ride.
“We’ve come this far. Let’s go,” I said. The sooner we cracked the next clue, the sooner I could retreat and get some space from Forrest. No reason to put it off if we knew where we were going. Maybe the boathouse would be the end. At this point, I was afraid to hope.
“You want to go to the boathouse? Even though we can’t get in?” Forrest’s eyes were distant, filled with doubt.
Annoyance prickling in my chest, I realized I wanted him to be as excited as I was about this crazy quest we were on. As soon as that thought registered, reality hit me. It had to hurt him to be here without his father. Adding in that Forrest had only been thirteen when he’d lost Alan and that Alan had chosen to leave his family—