“King said he covered the entrance back up when he left so it looked exactly as it had before.”
“In daylight, it will be easier,” Mateo said. “You have come this far. You will find it.”
Gage glanced over at his friend. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
Abby followed the track of Gage’s flashlight as the beam traveled over the low rock walls that outlined the long rectangular shape of the house.
Somewhere—among the dense shrubs, plants, bushes, leafy trees, and undergrowth within the foundation—was a passage that would lead to untold wealth. Abby felt a little kick of excitement just thinking about it.
“Let’s go get some sleep,” Gage said. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” He took her hand to help her navigate the rough ground back to the passenger side of the Hummer.
Glancing over her shoulder, Abby took a last look at the ruins of the old hacienda. WE’ll find it, King, she promised. And prayed she could keep her word.
* * *
After spending the night in Mérida, Edge’s security team showed up in Alux’ob at eight o’clock the next morning. Finished with a breakfast of huevos motuleños that Carlos had fetched for them from the cantina, Gage walked Abby out to meet them.
Edge made the introductions to his crew. “Guys, this is my brother, Gage. The lady is Abigail Holland. You’ve already met Mateo.” Edge turned to the additional two team members, a man and a woman, both veterans who had served in Afghanistan. “Gage and Abby, meet Trace Elliott and Skye Delaney. Gage, you met Trace at Kade’s wedding. He worked security on the ranch for a while when Kade was having trouble.”
“I remember,” Gage said, reaching out to shake Elliott’s hand. He remembered the man, dark-haired and good-looking, with intense blue eyes.
The woman, Skye Delaney, was average height, her skin suntanned to a smooth bronze. She had softly curling, sun-streaked brown hair, about shoulder-length, pulled back in a low ponytail. Even without makeup, she was strikingly attractive.
Her handshake was firm and strong. Edge had told him Skye had been injured in Afghanistan. Apparently, she had taken shrapnel in one leg, which had also been badly burned, in an attack on her Humvee. From what he had seen so far, it didn’t slow her down.
Abby shook each of their hands. “Nice to meet you both,” she said.
“Trace and I served together,” Edge explained. “I’ve been working with him and Skye at Nighthawk for a while.” Nighthawk Security, where Kade had met his wife, Ellie, a private investigator at the time.
“They’re both former army,” Edge said. “They’re good at what they do, and they’re people we can trust.”
“Welcome aboard,” Gage said. Bringing on more security posed a certain risk, but now, with cartel members in the area, there wasn’t any choice. If the search dragged out, he would have to hire day laborers to help with the work, but he would address that problem when the time came.
Gage turned to Mateo. “Let’s load the gear and head out.”
Shovels, picks, rakes, hoes, metal detectors, a Leica distance measurer, two wheelbarrows, miscellaneous other equipment and gear, along with a drone, were loaded into the Hummers.
Mateo had stocked up on food before his arrival: protein bars, trail mix, peanut butter, crackers, tortillas, cheese, jerky, canned tuna, hard meats, and assorted other snacks and sweets. Coolers held bottled water, even some Gatorade. Handling the details was part of Mateo’s job, and he did it well.
Gage had no idea how long it would take to locate the entrance to the lower level. With temperatures in the high 90s, they’d have to take frequent breaks and be sure to stay hydrated.
He and Abby set off with the boy in one vehicle, Mateo and Edge in the other. Trace and Skye were staying behind to make sure they weren’t followed, then joining them at the site in a third vehicle, an older Jeep that Gage hoped wouldn’t break down on the way.
The narrow, overgrown road deteriorated the farther they drove from town. Noise from the engine startled an occasional white-tailed deer and a couple of colorful parrots. As he rounded a turn, Abby gripped his arm, excited to spot a cinnamon-colored coati, a raccoon-like mammal with a pointed nose and a long, ringed tail.
It took less than an hour on the narrow, bumpy road to reach the old hacienda. Gage pulled through the arched stone gate, and both vehicles drove around to the back. They parked in the shade of overhanging trees, and the engines were turned off.
Working together, they unloaded the gear, while Gage mapped out a search grid covering the area inside the foundation. When the third vehicle arrived, Trace and Skye took off walking, making a perimeter check of the location. They would also be doing vehicle security sweeps while the rest of the team worked.
King’s notes marked the approximate location of the underground rooms, but at the time, he had only discovered the first of what he believed were several different caches of gold.
He’d left Denver for Mexico to recover the first cache and search for the rest, but he’d never made it home. The notes he had left behind were all the information they had.
Mateo grabbed a shovel, buried the blade in the dirt, then leaned on the handle as he spoke. “You must all remember there are poisonous snakes in the area. They are not that common, but some are deadly.”
“Coral snakes,” Gage said. “Rattlesnakes, black cantils, and pit vipers. Abby, you know what to look for, right?”
“Believe me, I know what a rattlesnake looks like. I studied photos of the rest.”
“Good girl.” He thought of her near-deadly snake encounter in the Superstitions, and unease slid down his spine.
“Trace has worked down here, and so have I,” Edge said. “Skye is no stranger to the hostile creatures in this kind of environment.”
Carlos’s skinny legs pounded the earth as he hurried over. “I will keep watch for snakes. I do not like them.”
Abby laughed. “Neither do I, Carlos. You let me know if you see one.”
“Sí, Señora Abby.” Carlos assumed Abby was Gage’s wife, which was the story he had told the innkeeper. Abby Logan. Mrs. Gage Logan. Just thinking about it sent a wave of panic through him.
Gage remembered Cassandra and the tragic end to her life. Maybe there was a time it could have happened for him and Abby. Not anymore.
“Let’s get to work,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTY
THOUGH THE DAY WAS STILL EARLY, IT WAS ALREADY HOT BY THE TIME they began to search. The weather was changing; a big tropical storm was predicted in the coming days, but it wasn’t here yet.
They started with a drone flyover of the main structure, outbuildings, and surrounding hectares of land. The information the drone gathered was interesting but, aside from the discovery of an ancient cenote, only confirmed what they already knew.
Gage couldn’t resist taking a look at the circular sinkhole in the limestone bedrock. There were thousands of cenotes in Mexico, most filled with groundwater. They were deep, and a beautiful shade of blue, but they could be deadly. Years ago, they had supplied water to the Mayans, who had also used them for sacrificial offerings.
The thought gave Gage a chill.
They returned to the ruins of the hacienda and went to work. Raking up vines and flowering plants, and digging up shrubs and small trees was a start. Piles of rubble covered the ground underneath, places where the walls and roof had collapsed. Timbers remained that had once held up the floors, and scores of broken pasta tiles, famous in the Yucatán, in intricate, colorful patterns.