That made her stop because he was right about what she’d thought people said behind her back. “They do?”
“Yeah. So stop moping and keep doing my brother. He’ll be in a way better mood when he comes back. The last two weeks have been awful, and now I blame you,” Kyle began. “You have no idea how broody a professor can get, and when he gets broody he lectures. I swear I caught him lecturing the cat and then we were both trying to claw our way out of the place.”
“Ooops, I’m losing you.” She hung up because the last thing she needed was Kyle Hawthorne telling her all the things she’d done wrong when she’d walked away from David the first time.
And one thing she’d gotten right. She took a long breath and steadied herself because hearing that no one blamed her, no one thought she’d made a huge mistake was surprisingly emotional.
Or maybe she was in an emotional mood because being around David gave her all kinds of feelings.
He was still giving her feels because she was standing here not sending the stuff she needed to, and she had to leave soon or they would miss her and start asking questions.
She moved the photos she’d surreptitiously taken into a text she sent to Kyle and MaeBe. The files started to send even as she lost a bar.
Damn it. She moved closer to the edge. There wasn’t a railing around it but there was a short wall that hit her mid-thigh. She leaned over slightly and managed three bars. The message started to send. Just a bit more.
She leaned again, trying to find the best angle.
That was when she started to lose her balance and tip forward.
An arm went around her waist, and she was pulled back against a hard chest.
“Hey, baby, how about we not find out what kind of medical care is available here?” David asked, his arms tightening as though he was afraid of losing her.
“You find her?” a deep voice asked.
David let her go and turned. Mateo stood there, a frown on his face. “Yes. She’s right where I thought she would be.” He turned back to her. “I’m so sorry I forgot about our plans to check out the town. When Mateo announced you were gone I realized I’d done it again. I got distracted and lost track of time. I tried to explain you needed a few things.”
“We could have sent out for whatever the lady needs. There was no need to walk into town,” Mateo replied. “Come and I will take you back.”
So David had covered for her. He was fast on his feet, but she felt bad she’d interrupted his day. And worse that Mateo seemed so upset she’d left. She wasn’t a prisoner there. “I was about to pick it up when I found this place. I was checking out the view, taking some selfies. We can go.”
“Or we can stay.” He reached for her hand and pulled her close. “I like this song. ‘Zona de Promesas.’ Come here and dance with me.”
“What should I tell the boss?” Mateo asked. “He thinks you are coming back.”
“Tell him I’m taking the afternoon off to be with my girl,” David said, not bothering to look his way. “We’ll be back well before dinner. I think we can find our way. Thanks for bringing me out.”
“David, you came here…” she began.
He sighed and hauled her closer. “I came here to study. I simply switched subjects. Now hush and dance with me. We’re on a romantic island off the coast of Argentina in a bar almost no one in the whole world will ever visit. So be here with me.”
She pocketed her phone and rested her head against his shoulder. He’d saved her. She could give him a couple of minutes.
Who the hell was she kidding? She wrapped her arms around him. He was big and strong, and she fit against him perfectly. There wasn’t any place else she’d rather be. Certainly not back home where she might have been given the job of forcing Kyle to take his meds. At least he would get the photos since his phone was apparently right on the table next to…
She realized what had bothered her about the picture of Eddie as a baby. There had been a cell phone beside the flowers. A very modern cell. She wasn’t absolutely sure, but she would swear it was a model that had come out in the last few years.
It hadn’t existed when Eddie was born.
Why would he have lied?
She followed David’s lead and let the question go for now. For now she was David Hawthorne’s lady, and that seemed like such a nice thing to be. She would worry about the job later.
Chapter Eight
David studied the poem he knew so well. It was the one that all the treasure hunters claimed Montez had written as a siren call to them.
Life begins in the forest where water rushes toward the sea
The green ceiling gives us cover and it was here I buried our treasure
Our greatest gift to the world
But my life began where music plays, where I met with the lamb and the people spoke clearly
Four by four by two
He went back to his notes. The poem was several pages long, but most of it didn’t matter. The key was in the first stanza and the last. Montez liked to play around, to bury the important clues inside the noise.
Not noise, exactly, but most of the poem was a restating of his life principles.
The numbers were interesting, though. What he’d discovered in the notebooks was lots of playing around with numbers.
Playing. He glanced at the clock. The sun had gone down a while ago. Could he get them out of dinner and back into their bedroom, where he intended to play with her for the rest of the night?
He needed to focus. This was supposed to be the easy part—the studying.
“Can you grab the blue one?” David asked. Luis was sitting closer to the big stack of notebooks Eddie had discovered.
“Sure.” Luis hopped up and had the correct book in his hand. “You got something?”
“I don’t know.” He took the notebook and flipped through it. “How much do you know about the treasure hunters who come here?”
He forced himself to not look back to where Tessa was sitting, reading a murder mystery and probably thinking about how she would take down the killer.
“A little. I’ve been following a couple of blogs. Most of them think the actual hunt begins in Buenos Aires, since that’s where Montez was born.” Luis took the seat in front of him. “They make some pretty farfetched connections. The hospital he was born in is a couple of blocks over from a bar where many of Argentina’s great singers played. He lived for the first several years of his life close to it, and his mother worked there as a server for a few years. There’s a classic juke box in the club, and if you play the song numbered thirty-two, it’s an old Madonna song. ‘La Isla Bonita.’”
He rolled his eyes. “I suppose that’s what sends them to the island. That’s bullshit. First, Montez hated all pop music, especially American pop, and second, it wouldn’t be so easy. Four by four by two might equal thirty-two, but it’s not a math problem. At least not that easy of one.”
Great treasure waits for the one who sees the possibilities, who finds the door and opens it
The truth of my life revealed to the one who searches for it
It wasn’t great poetry, but then Montez hadn’t been known for creative writing. His political discourse had changed the landscape in some places.