

The Treasure Hunters

Christian Fiction

by Darryl Matter

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2019 by Darryl Matter

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The Treasure Hunters

This is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

CHAPTER 1

Snick! . . . Snick! . . . Snick! . . . Snick!

The rhythmic windshield wipers now were beginning to push frozen pellets from the windshield. What had begun as cold rain was turning to icy sleet as the temperature fell below the freezing mark, making for treacherous travel along the seldom-traveled highway.

Slippery road conditions really didn't concern Jim Wilson. Neither did the sleet. Or the cold. He was used to being out in all kinds of weather and his four-wheel-drive Chevy pickup, outfitted with high-traction tires, was sure-footed in ice or snow. Sure-footed in any terrain, off-road or highway, for that matter.

Nor did he have anywhere he absolutely had to be at any particular time. He could take his time, move at his own pace, adjust to the weather as it came to him.

In fact, Jim was pleased with the icy weather. It served his purpose well. He had left his remote cabin that morning with the intent of looking over the land that lay to the south and west of his silver mine, land where a treasure almost certainly had been hastily buried by outlaws on the run from the law one day in the winter of 1892.

The outlaw gang had been captured nearby on a cold, wintry day, something like this one–but without the gold and silver they'd stolen only hours before. Somehow they'd managed to stash the treasure before they were captured, probably on the land to the right of the semi-abandoned highway that now cut through Jim's property. The sheriff who caught the outlaws could not make them talk about the whereabouts of their stolen treasure. He'd had to let them go after only a little jail-time. They were hard men, and the entire gang died in a shootout with law enforcement officers before any of them could return to claim the hidden loot.

Or so the story went. Jim had researched it carefully, and believed it was true. The treasure was out there. Jim's intent was to find it.

The little-traveled highway Jim now was driving followed what once was the trail on which the outlaws attempted to elude the posse. To drive this highway, then, was to approximate the escape route they'd taken back in 1892.

Several weeks ago, Jim had purposely imagined himself on the trail taken by the outlaws. He'd waited until he could duplicate the gang's travels under the same weather conditions as they'd had back then. Today, he'd be able to consider just where he himself might conceal or bury such a treasure if he had been on the run from a sheriff's posse under similar winter conditions.

As he drove, Jim began to visually search for landmarks that he would use if he were hurriedly stashing treasure, landmarks that would be reference points so that he could find that treasure again when there were no lawmen in hot pursuit. Once he identified the potential landmarks and the treasure site, Jim would come back in better weather and search for the cache with his metal detector. He had successfully located buried treasure before. He could do it again. Jim had an eye for concealed or buried treasure.
Jim drove slowly now, his eyes intently searching the area. Three large outcroppings of rock there to the east might have served as landmarks. So might the depression in the hillside off to the west. And over there–-

"WOOF!" Ben, the big white dog riding beside Jim on the pickup seat scrambled to his feet and barked loudly as he spotted something of definite interest to him through the windshield. "WOOF!" The dog now pressed his face against the side window, intent on something Jim hadn't yet noticed, then impatiently looked back over his shoulder at Jim and barked insistently. "WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!" The dog's intent was clear: "STOP! STOP NOW!"

Jim slowed the Chevy, his intense blue eyes now scanning the side of the road where Ben seemed to be focused. He'd trained the big dog to be vigilant–and he trusted the animal's judgment.

There was something unusual there in the ditch, all right. At first it looked to Jim like a big rag doll. Red hair. Pudgy pink arms and legs sticking out of a dress or child's outfit of some sort. Bare feet. No! It wasn't a doll. No way! It had to be a very small child, a little girl, to judge from the curly red hair! With hardly any clothes! She'd freeze to death in short order in weather like this. Maybe she already had.

Wait. Wait a minute, Jim. Think before you act. Jim's well-honed survival instincts took over. What was this, anyway? A trap? Jim knew full well that thugs sometimes preyed on travelers along seldom-traveled roads in this kind of weather. Stop to help someone and you just might be robbed–or worse. Although few people knew that Jim had money, it was best that he be wary.

"WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!" LET'S GO! LET'S GO! The big dog was insistent.

"Okay, Ben." Jim stopped the pickup, then backed up and off onto the shoulder near to where the child was face-down in the ditch. He looked carefully around the area, squinting through the sleet that was falling even harder now, but didn't see anyone. Nevertheless, he'd be cautious. Visibility wasn't all that good, and there were places along the highway where a thug--or a gang of thugs--could hide. As a precaution, Jim slipped the .45 Colt pistol lying on the seat beside him into his jacket pocket as he opened the door. He knew how to defend himself.

"WOOF! WOOF!" As soon as Jim opened the door, Ben bounded out of the Chevy, sprinted around the front, toenails digging for traction into the patches of accumulated ice as he ran, and then scooted directly down the side of the ditch to where the child lay. Jim jammed his hat down on his head and followed, more cautious than the dog on the slippery grass, keeping an eye out for hoodlums, his hand on the Colt in his pocket.

It was a child, all right, a little girl with red hair, red hair that now was matted with the freezing rain. She was wearing only a thin, short-sleeved, cotton dress, and her clothing, soaked completely through from the rain, was clinging to her tiny body. In fact, ice had begun to accumulate in the grass around the girl, and Jim thought for a moment that she must be dead. But then, when Ben licked her face and nudged her with his nose, Jim saw the tiny figure move ever so slightly. She was alive!

"WOOF!" . . . "WOOF!" Ben looked up at Jim and back at the child as he barked as if to say, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? HURRY UP!

Jim had never picked up or even held a small child. He'd always liked children, of course, but after Crystal, his one and only girlfriend, had died in that fire some ten years ago, he'd given up hope of ever having children around. Indeed, he'd retreated from most of the world after that horrible accident, retreated to the safety of his remote cabin and his silver mine and his precious few memories.

"WOOF! WOOF!"

There was a blanket in the pickup. Lifting the tiny figure as gently as possible from the icy ditch, Jim carried her to the pickup where he dried her as best he could, then wrapped her in that blanket, and placed her on the seat bdside him. "It'll be okay, honey," he whispered to the little girl. He didn't know what else to say, and he wasn't sure if the child could hear him or not, but it was the best he could manage. "It'll be okay, honey," he repeated.

She'd been so cold, he could only hope she'd really be okay. And he couldn't ignore the little girl's pale, near-blue, cold skin–the sure signs of frostbite.

The little girl's skin felt hard to his touch. Yes, there would be frostbite. A year spent in the Arctic had taught Jim about frostbite. He could only hope it wasn't second or third degree frostbite.

As he climbed back into the driver's seat, Jim saw that Ben had snuggled close to the little girl, warming her with his own body heat. When he looked again a few moments later, the little girl's right hand was out of the blanket and wrapped around Ben's front paw. Yeah, she'd make it. He'd take her to the hospital--and she'd make it.

What next? He'd better alert someone at the hospital that he was bringing the little girl. The emergency room number was programmed into his cell phone, and he dialed that number. They knew him at the hospital. Knew who he was, anyway. They'd be expecting him.

If the little girl did have serious frostbite, they could get her on antibiotics right away. They could check for hypothermia, too. And whatever else might be wrong. Poor little kid.

Who else should he call? Oh, yes! John Murphy, the detective who worked with missing children. The one who'd been so kind to him over the years after Crystal's death. He'd alert him, too. Yes. Moments later, Jim had called and arranged for John to meet them at the hospital.

Jim drove as fast as he dared on the icy highway.

A nurse took the little red-haired girl the minute Jim pulled his pickup into the emergency-admissions ambulance shelter. As he watched the nurse carry the child down the hallway toward the main part of the hospital, he saw John Murphy hurriedly step into the hall through a side door.

The detective was escorting a young woman, his hand on her arm. Despite the fact that she was wearing a heavy coat and scarf against the winter weather, Jim saw that she had red hair, similar to the child's. Then, as the woman saw the child in the nurse's arms, she suddenly rushed forward as if to hug the child and the nurse together. "Alycia! My baby! Oh, thank you! Thank you, Jesus!" she blurted out, tears streaming down her face as she did so. Well, well! John Murphy must already have located the child's mother.

As the people with the child disappeared down the hallway, through yet another door, and into the main part of the hospital, Jim eased his Chevy pickup out of the ambulance shelter. Without saying another word to anyone, he quietly headed home. He had 30 miles to drive over that icy highway before he'd reach his cabin, so he'd better get started, and they obviously didn't need him at the hospital any more. The detective might want to talk with him about where he'd found the child. If he did, he knew where to find him. Same place he'd found him before.

* * * * *

It was later that night when Jim and Ben settled down together on the cabin floor in front of the fireplace. Jim had a handful of beef-flavored treats that Ben especially liked, and the dog eagerly ate them out of his hand. "Good job, Ben," he said over and over, as he stroked the dog's rough white fur, and then added, affectionately, "You did a good deed this afternoon, big fellow." Ben snuggled close, enjoying the companionship.

From across the room, Crystal smiled her impish little grin at him from her photograph. She was not the prettiest girl Jim had ever known. In fact, the red-haired woman with John Murphy at the hospital was more beautiful than Crystal, more beautiful than most women Jim had ever known, or would ever know, for that matter. Still, Crystal had loved him and he'd loved her, freckles and crooked teeth and all. With her round face and long brown hair she'd been beautiful in his eyes–and that was what counted.

The memories of his good times spent with Crystal swirled up in Jim's mind. Like the time he'd braided her hair into a pigtail and she'd giggled and thought it was cute. He even remembered the silky feel of her beautiful hair. And then she'd kissed him. Jim was in Heaven!

Stop it! Now! It wasn't good for him to dwell on those memories because they always were followed by the painful realization of what had happened. He knew that, and quickly turned his attention back to Ben. Without a doubt, Crystal's memory and Ben were his best friends.

Crystal's picture, taken only a week before that tragic fire, was a little faded, but it was all he had to remember her by. It and the harmonica she loved to play. Try as he might to put thoughts of Crystal from his mind, he couldn't. "She'd have been proud of both of us for what we did today," Jim told Ben, and the big white dog nuzzled his hand as if to say, "Yes, indeed, Jim! She would have been proud of us."

The phone call Jim had been expecting came as he was getting ready for bed later that night. "I'd like to come out and talk to you," John Murphy said. "How about first thing tomorrow morning, say around nine o'clock? Unless the weather gets much worse. If that's the case, I'll call you."

"I'll be here," Jim replied, "and I'll have coffee waiting." After checking once again to make sure his Colt was in its usual place under his pillow and his security system was activated and functioning properly, Jim settled down for the night. Ben settled down as well, on the floor beside his bed. Then, just as he was drifting off to sleep, a stray thought kept running through his mind: That woman, the little girl's mother, was absolutely beautiful!
CHAPTER 2

The pretty, red-haired woman who'd been with John Murphy at the hospital was standing at the door along with the detective when Jim answered their knock the following morning. John introduced her as Jenelli Paterson, and Jim invited them inside.

Paterson? Jenelli Paterson? Her name was vaguely familiar. Sure. Now he had it. Her name had been in the news recently because her husband, Tony, a prominent banker in the community, had met with a fatal automobile accident.

Once inside the cabin, Jenelli grabbed Jim's hands in her's. "Mr. Wilson," she began, struggling to hold back tears as she spoke, "I've . . . I've thanked God all night long for sending you to rescue Alycia! You . . . You have been the answer to my . . . to my prayers! I . . . I . . . prayed that someone would . . . that someone would . . . ." She began to sob as her words of thanks tumbled out. "I'm so sorry, I'm . . . ." She tugged a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes for a moment, then looked up at him. "I'm so sorry . . . I . . . I didn't get a chance to . . . to thank you yesterday . . . and . . . and I wanted to thank you . . . from the bottom of my heart . . . for . . . saving my . . . my . . . my little girl." She wiped more tears from her eyes.

Jim looked down at her and smiled reassuringly. "You're welcome, Mrs. Paterson. I'm glad that Ben and I came along that highway when we did. You see, he's the one who spotted her first."

"Ben? Who's . . . Who's Ben?" Surprise was evident in Jenelli's voice.

"My dog." Jim slapped his leg and called, "Ben. Come here, boy." The big dog who had been lying near the door to the kitchen and intently watching the visitors got up and trotted over to where the three were standing.

Jenelli stooped down and patted Ben, then looked up at Jim, her big green eyes glistening. "He . . . He was guided by an angel, then, just like you were, Mr. Wilson. I'm absolutely sure of it. Oh, my! He's . . . He's beautiful! May I pet him?"

"Sure, he likes to be petted, but I'd be happier if you called me 'Jim.'" Turning to the dog, he said, softly, "Sit, Ben. Everything's okay."

Jenelli knelt, stroked the big dog's head for several moments, hugged the dog, then looked up at Jim. "Okay. I'll call you 'Jim' if you'll call me 'Jenelli.'" He nodded, and the woman continued, "I was so relieved to get Alycia back." She sighed. "You see, after . . . after Tony's death . . . well, I . . . I . . . ." She blinked back tears. "I . . . I just couldn't have . . . have stood another . . . another awful, awful heartache."

"I understand about heartaches," Jim replied softly, not knowing for sure what else there was to say, "and I'm really glad that we found Alycia when we did. Is she going to be all right?"

"Yes." Jenelli's eyes brightened. "The doctors tell me she'll be fine. She's going to be in the hospital for a few days because of the frostbite and hypothermia. It . . . It was just awful what that little child went through. The doctors say that another hour or so out in that awful weather, and . . . ." Jenelli wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. "Well, we're just fortunate that you and Ben came along when you did. Like I said, I think both of you were really guided by God's angels. You being in that place when you were was an answer to my prayers."

Jim nodded his understanding of what Jenelli was saying, then suddenly realized they all still were standing just inside the door. "Sorry. I'm afraid I'm not being a very good host," he said, apologetically. "Here, Jenelli. Let me take your coat. I've got coffee on." He motioned toward the table, noting that John already had tossed his coat on a chair. Once the three were seated at the table with mugs of coffee, Jim turned to the detective. "You said you wanted to talk to me, John. Want to tell me what's been going on?"

Jenelli's sparkling green eyes flitted between Jim and John, then darted around the cabin. Jim had always lived simply, so there wasn't much for her to see beyond the small kitchen table. His oversized recliner sat in the living room along with his huge roll-top desk, his computer, and two other comfortable chairs. Sturdy shelves filled with books, some of which appeared to be quite old, lined one entire wall.

Three small video monitors, similar to those she'd seen in one of the back rooms in her husband Tony's bank, sat on a shelf against one wall; screens on those monitors provided views of the area around Jim's cabin. Little green lights flickered across the bottom of those monitors. There were some other electronic devices near them that she didn't recognize.

There wasn't a television set to be seen. That puzzled Jenelli because her husband had watched television constantly, day and night, when he was home. Not seeing a television set, Jenelli momentarily wondered what Jim might do for entertainment besides reading. And, how did he keep up on the news without a television set?

That door to the right must lead outside, Jenelli reasoned. The first inside door to the left must lead to a bathroom, the second to a bedroom, but what about that third door. It appeared to be secured with a padlock. What could be behind that door?

Just as Jenelli was about to return her full attention to the two men, something unusual caught her eye. An odd-shaped rock nearly as wide as her hand sat on Jim's desk. She'd never seen another one exactly like it. Was it something valuable? And why would Jim keep something like that on his desk?

And then she turned her full attention to the men, her eyes darting between them. Wow! These were the kind of men Jenelli had to admit she hadn't encountered in a long, long time–if ever!

Jim struck Jenelli as amazingly handsome, exhibiting the rugged good looks of a man who'd spent much time outdoors, muscular and hard bodied. John, though a little older and exhibiting graying hair and the wrinkles associated with aging, likewise possessed the robust physique of a man whose conditioning was a result of activity and not the exercise in a gym that was so fashionable these days. Tony, by comparison, she realized with a start, had been pale, almost sickly, in appearance, and he'd worked out in two or three fitness centers. At least, he'd said he did.

What appealed to Jenelli even more than their rugged physical appearances, however, was the fact that both Jim and John appeared to possess an inner toughness and character that she'd never found in her late husband or his closest friends. Most likely, she reasoned, Jim didn't need a television set because he didn't spend much time sitting around indoors. He probably didn't need the kind of entertainment a television set could provide. And there were no liquor bottles sitting around either. She'd always abhorred Tony's heavy drinking, and the bottles he'd left sitting all over the place.

Although Jenelli wouldn't have admitted it aloud to anyone, and found it hard to admit even to herself, there was something she really admired in Jim Wilson. This was a man she'd like to get to know–if he'd ever even consider having anything to do with a woman like her. If he associated her with Tony's notoriously decadent lifestyle, a lifestyle that had been splashed all over the television screen and newspapers since the accident, Jim probably wouldn't want her around.

But she wasn't like Tony in that regard. No. She'd not wanted to be associated with Tony's parties and such. Still, people would associate her with Tony's lifestyle, like it or not. She had to accept that fact.

Before Jenelli could concentrate more intently on Jim, however, she found herself focusing on John as he replied to Jim's question.

The detective didn't waste words with chitchat. "Alycia was kidnapped two days ago," he began.

"Kidnapped, eh?" Jim questioned.

"Yes. We kept it out of the news because the kidnappers demanded ransom and said they'd kill the child if any missing-child alerts or statements about the kidnapping were on the news. They said they'd call Jenelli at home to arrange for the return of the child, and we had her phone tapped, but they never did call. Then yesterday you called and said you'd found a child, and the description you gave me matched Alycia's. I picked up Jenelli and we went to the hospital to see if it really was Alycia–and it was."

"Any ideas as to who was behind the kidnapping?" Jim questioned.

"We don't know, but we suspect it was a man who worked with Jenelli's late husband, Tony. In fact, he was a suspect in a child kidnapping-for-ransom case a few years ago, but that case never was solved."

"A disgruntled employee? Or a former employee?"

The detective shook his head. "Maybe, but I don't think so. We've looked intently at the people who have worked for Tony over the years and didn't find a likely suspect. Actually, we don't yet have a motive, other than ransom money. The kidnapper was demanding half a million dollars."

Jim watched John carefully. This man was a first-class detective, but his body-language suggested that he wasn't at ease just then. Maybe he was holding something back. Maybe he was trying to shield Jenelli from some unpleasantness. At any rate, there seemed to be something he wasn't saying. "I see," Jim responded. "Is there any way I can help you?"

"I'd like for you to show me where you found Alycia," the detective replied. "You're awfully good at tracking, and maybe we can look around along the road, back from where you found her. She probably was pushed out of a car and then, to judge by the condition of her hands and feet, tried to walk or crawl along the road toward town. We might be able to spot the place where the kidnapper put her out. It's thin, I know, but we have to check out everything. You know that."

"Yes, I understand that," Jim agreed. "It's still just a little icy out there, but we can go right on out anytime you'd like." Jim turned to Jenelli. "Maybe you'd rather John took you back to town and then came back--"

"Oh, no!" Jenelli interrupted. "I want to go with you guys. I want . . . I want to see . . . ." She daubed at her eyes with the tissue.

"We can go right on out, then. Oh, and by the way, John," Jim asked, "have you got an officer keeping an eye on Alycia?"

John nodded. "Yes. She's safe."

"Okay, then. You guys can follow me. I'll drive my pickup, take Ben with me, and we'll go out to where we found Alycia."

Jenelli and John followed Jim and Ben outside, waited while he secured the cabin door, then hurried to the detective's Ford. It had stopped sleeting during the night, but still was cloudy and crisp outside. Jim retrieved his pickup from the garage.

Jim showed the detective and Jenelli exactly where he and Ben had found the little girl. She had probably walked or crawled for some short distance down the road, so they backtracked on foot up the highway, looking for any signs that might show where a car had stopped.

"WOOF!" Ben was standing over something in the weeds at the side of the road, looking back over his shoulder at the people with him, and barking to get Jim's attention. "WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!" He'd spotted something important, all right. One of Alycia's shoes was lying in the ditch.

"Do you suppose the other shoe is still in the kidnapper's car?" Jenelli asked.

John placed the shoe in an evidence bag. "It just might be."

They continued to look a little longer for anything connected with Alycia or her kidnapper, but to no avail. "Come on back to my place if you'd like," Jim invited, but both John and Jenelli indicated that they'd better get back to the city.

Then, as Jim held the door and Jenelli was starting to climb into the detective's car, she suddenly turned, threw her arms around Jim, and gave him a quick hug. "Thanks again, you wonderful man!" she whispered.

"You're welcome," he replied.

Jim watched as John's Ford disappeared down the highway toward town. Well, that was that, he told himself as he turned his pickup around and headed back up the road toward his cabin. Ben sighed with sympathy, put his head down on his paws, and looked at Jim from the corner of his eyes. He, too, knew that was the last they'd see of the pretty, red-haired, green-eyed woman. She was much too classy, a prominent banker's widow, no less, to want anything more to do with backwoods recluses such as Ben and Jim.

Before they'd gone a mile back towards Jim's cabin, Jim's cell phone jangled. Only a few people knew that number, so there was no hesitancy on Jim's part to respond without checking the Caller ID. "Hello. Jim Wilson, here."

"Hello, Jim. George Henry, here." The man who managed Jim's bank and other business enterprises was on the line, and his request was direct: "I need to talk to you, Jim. When's a convenient time?"

"And I want to talk with you, George," Jim replied. "I'm half way to town now. Give me twenty minutes. Okay?"

They met in the parking lot of a shopping mall close to the bank instead of George's office. They'd met there many times before--for security and privacy reasons. There was no need for anyone to overhear the things they often discussed, and there would be no interruptions. At the parking lot, Jim stepped out of his pickup and climbed into the passenger seat of George's four-door Jeep Wrangler, the vehicle which George and his wife, Kay, used regularly to explore the wilderness country surrounding the community as well as for George's drive-to-work vehicle.

The Jeep had been outfitted with oversized, high-traction tires and a lift kit which raised the chassis several inches to provide extra ground clearance, an important consideration because the vehicle often was relied upon to take George and Kay into extremely rugged country.

Although George Henry was a highly respected bank president who worked in a well-appointed office and Jim Wilson was a tough but quiet, semi-reclusive silver miner and treasure hunter, the two men were far more alike than one might suspect.

Both men were in their mid-30s; both were experts at their chosen professions. George had rejected three-piece suits and ties years ago, preferring to manage Jim's bank and a number of other financial interests while wearing knit shirts and slacks. In fact, he'd been known to wear to work the denim jeans and work shirts of the cowboy he once was--before he'd earned his MBA. If clients didn't like his attire, well, there were plenty of bankers around who wore suits and ties every day. George didn't need more business.

George and Kay lived modestly, too, in a small log house near a lake on the other side of town where the banker maintained a small herd of longhorn cattle for his own enjoyment. Jim admired the lack of pretension exhibited by his bank manager and business partner, for even though few people knew the truth, George Henry was one of the wealthiest men in the state. Other bankers might be impressed with tailored three-piece suits, corner offices, and expensive cars, but Jim was more impressed with the superior results of George's business management skills. Indeed, both men were similar in their approach to life, enjoying their own pleasures without concern for keeping up with latest trends.

"You called me, so you go first, George," Jim suggested, once the men exchanged greetings.

"Okay. You'll remember that about a year ago you helped finance a couple of guys who thought they had a lead on some buried treasure in Brazil."

Jim remembered. "Nazi gold, right?"

"Right. Some of the loot the Nazi's managed to smuggle out of Europe toward the end of World War II."

"I remember them."

"They found it."

Jim grinned. "I thought they would. They had impressive documentation."

George chuckled. "They found it, all right. It took 'em some doing to get it out of Brazil, but they got out alive with it, and they're on their way up here with your share."

"I gather they called you."

"Yes. Said they'd be bringing a 'delivery.' That was the term they used. No idle talk. Very professional. They asked me to let you know."

"Thanks. When will they make the delivery?"

"Tomorrow. Early morning, well before the bank opens for business, if all goes according to plan. I plan to meet them at the bank. Maybe have a couple of our security people with me."

"Well, well. What's the value of what they found? Did they say, or hint?"

"Approximately three million United States dollars worth of gold plus a few diamonds. That's your one-third share."

Jim smiled, then turned serious. Sounds about like what I expected, but you seemed concerned about something. Is there a problem?"

The banker chuckled again. "Well, Jim, the only problem is finding a secure place to stash the gold until you look it over and decide if you want to sell it or hold it. Our vault is about full from your last treasure hunt, and we need the space that's left for our normal banking business. Oh, don't get me wrong, Jim. We're not desperate for space in the vault. We can store this new delivery for now, and I'll beef up security."

"Okay. Any ideas about future storage?" Jim asked, knowing George would already have thought about that.

"Yes. That's what I wanted to talk with you about." George glanced around furtively to be absolutely sure no one was listening nearby. "I'm thinking that we might buy another bank. That would give us another vault, plus a branch bank, which we could use to expand our services into another part of the city. What do you think?"

Jim didn't hesitate. "It's fine with me. My guess is that you've already got one or two banks in mind for acquisition. Am I right?"

The banker smiled. "Yes, I do. Both are financially sound and very well managed. Either or both would make money for both of us, and I believe their owners could be interested in selling."

"Good," Jim responded. "Then just do it, George. Either or both banks, whatever seems best to you."

There was no doubt about it. Jim trusted and appreciated George for his ability to plan for and carry out profitable business acquisitions. He had no reason to believe this time would be any different because they'd already discussed the possibility of acquiring a branch bank some time ago–and George was a brilliant businessman. Now, however, with that question settled, Jim wanted some personal information.

George smiled and nodded his agreement. "I'll get working on the acquisitions right away. We'll see what we can do. Now, you had something you wanted to ask me."

"Yes. What can you tell me about Tony Paterson, the hot-shot banker?"

George scowled and looked hard at Jim for a moment before he responded. "You aren't--or weren't--mixed up with that guy, are you, Jim?" he asked, his normally smooth voice now harsh, his dark eyes hard.

"Mixed up with him? No. I've been curious about him only since this morning." Jim went on to tell George how he'd found the Paterson child in the ditch, and about his encounter with Jenelli.

"I'll tell you what I know." George sat thinking for a moment. "About a year ago," he continued, his voice still harsh, "very disquieting stories started circulating in the banking circles about Tony Paterson. Seems as if he was gambling heavily, and was deeply in debt. Somehow the mob–or some heavyweight criminal element–got involved and sent an enforcer around to see him. That was maybe seven or eight months ago. Beat him up bad. He was in the hospital for about a week after that visit." George paused for a moment. "Things got worse. The next story that circulated was that Tony was using the bank's money to pay off his debts–and racking up more and more gambling debt all the time. He stayed one step ahead of the bank examiners and the mob and his creditors for a few months by getting a loan on his house and cashing in his insurance, but that wasn't enough. When he died a few days ago, he owed close to five million dollars. Maybe more, depending on which story you believe. Some say fifty million."

"Did the cops ever catch whoever beat up Paterson?"

"No. From what I understand, the cops don't have a clue."

"I'm getting the picture," Jim scowled, "but I'm not really up on the latest news. How did he die, anyway?"

George grimaced and shrugged his shoulders. "The news reports said he died in a one-car accident. Went to sleep, ran off the road, broke through a guard rail, hit something solid, and then plunged down an embankment and into the river. I reckon you've heard all that."

"Some of it. You don't believe that's exactly what happened?"

"No." George shook his head. "It wasn't an accident. Either he killed himself, or somebody killed him. I think the latter. You don't fool around with the mob, not with those kinds of debts. My guess is that somebody ran him off the road. But then," George shrugged his shoulders again, "with the mess he'd made of his life, he might simply have decided to take the easy way out. I think the account we've heard on the news makes a good story, and that's about it."

"Have you mentioned your thinking to the cops?"

"No way!" George exclaimed. "You don't mention it to them either. I'll tell you why. The latest story is that Tony Paterson took two cops into bankruptcy with him, gambled away their personal assets with promises of doubling their money, and instead put them into debt–big time. Some people even think the cops might have killed him. I don't know who the particular cops were, and I don't want to know. Let Internal Affairs and the FBI work on that one."

"Hmm. Do you trust John Murphy, the detective who's looking into the Paterson kid's abduction?"

"Yeah, he's okay, as far as I know. I know you like him. Why do you ask?"

Jim related the story John had told him that morning about the Paterson child's kidnapping, and how John had seemed strangely uncomfortable. "I've known John for about 12 years and he's been awfully nice to me, but he was covering up something this morning," Jim concluded.

"That is odd," the banker replied, "unless he's simply shielding Jenelli from the truth. It could be that somebody kidnapped the kid thinking they could get money out of Mrs. Paterson, but then found out that she didn't have access to much cash anymore with Tony dead, and just dumped the kid."

Jim nodded. "To change the subject, what's happening with Paterson's bank. And to his personal assets?"

"The examiners will have to shut down the bank, at least temporarily. That'll happen any day now. Federal insurance will cover at least part of the losses. The guys he owes serious money to are going after his assets. They've already filed lawsuits. When they get through, his wife won't have a cent of his money. Maybe not even the house to live in. Actually, I'm keeping that bank in mind as a possible acquisition once it gets operational again." George smiled. "It would give us another vault, too."

Jim smiled at the need for another vault, then turned serious. "Speaking of Jenelli, what does she do?"

"She's an artist, a commercial artist, that is," George replied. "Works at the Allen and Beam Advertising Agency. Does art work for 'em, and from what I hear, she's pretty good. She's won some awards for her work. Draws a reasonably good salary. Right now, though, she's taken some sort of a leave of absence to take care of the little girl--and the mess her husband left her. I think she's maybe working part-time, but exactly how much she's working I don't know."

"So she won't have to worry about supporting herself and Alycia without Tony?"

"No. She'll probably have to move out of that mansion where she and Tony lived, though, and she won't have his income. Don't know if she'll be mixed up in any bankruptcy proceedings. It'll be a mess and a real come-down for her. Still, I think she'll be all right, financially anyway."

"I understand that Tony Paterson was known for his lavish spending and decadent parties. Did Jenelli live the high-life with him?" Somehow it seemed important to Jim that he ask.

"No, I don't think so, not so much, anyway," George replied. He thought for a few moments, then continued. "That was a funny thing. Tony Paterson invited all the bank officers in the community to a party one night shortly after he moved into his new mansion. Wanted to show it off. At least that's how it seemed to us. Kay and I put in an appearance just to see what all the talk was about. Never saw so many BMWs and other luxury cars at one place in my life." George laughed. "Most of the guys and their wives were dressed fit to kill, too.

"Now about Jenelli. Funny thing was that she only put in a brief appearance at the party. Frankly, it seemed to Kay and me that she didn't want much to do with the revelries. She greeted everyone and then left the party early. Didn't even have a drink as near as we could tell. Must have just went off by herself."

"Didn't Tony mind that Jenelli wasn't with him?" Jim asked. "After all, she is a pretty woman, and I'd think he'd want to show her off."

"No, Jenelli didn't seem to be much on his mind that night. Kay and I left early on, but from what we heard later, Tony didn't seem to mind one bit that Jenelli wasn't there. She'd probably have slowed him down if she'd have stayed at the party. In fact, we were told that Tony was drinking like a fish and chasing other women half the night. It wouldn't surprise me if he had a girlfriend or two on the side, probably has had for years."

"Yeah, that was the impression I got of him some time ago," Jim commented. "Guess that's why I referred to him as a hot-shot banker. But I was curious about Jenelli because she didn't seem to be so stuck on herself. Oh, George, to change the subject?"

"Yeah, Jim?"

"That little girl, Alycia Paterson, is in the hospital. If Jenelli has trouble paying her bills, go ahead and pay the kid's hospital expenses anonymously from my account. Will you do that?"

"Sure, Jim, I'll take care of it," George replied as Jim climbed out of the Jeep. "And we'll be in touch on this other stuff."

* * * * *

The weather had improved. Jim would have to wait until it stormed again before conditions would be exactly right for him to search for the buried outlaw treasure he'd been looking for the day before.

Much as he enjoyed searching for buried treasure, there was nothing Jim loved better than working his silver mine. It was peaceful there deep underground in the mine. Peaceful and quiet. And it was hard, physical work, the kind that Jim appreciated because it kept him physically strong. He'd go there to work that afternoon, get away from all the commotion of the past day and the morning, and find solitude along with his labor. He'd eat something for lunch at a small cafe on the outskirts of town before going back to his cabin, and then he'd work the mine.

He'd always enjoyed eating at that particular cafe. The food was good, prices were fair, and they employed students from the local college as waiters and waitresses. That was a plus for Jim because he liked the youthful atmosphere. And there were two girls who worked there, girls who came from very impoverished families, who'd really impressed him with their willingness to work their way through college.

Each time he ate there, Jim managed to slip both of the girls a reasonably good tip by way of the manager--to "help their college funds." The manager wanted Jim to let him introduce him to the girls, but Jim said "no." He preferred to be anonymous with his gifts. Do some worthwhile acts of kindness toward people who couldn't pay him back. His reward was the pleasure of knowing he'd helped someone like those girls, helped them accomplish their goals.

Back home, it was time for Jim to work his mine. The mine itself was some distance from his cabin, but after Jim built his cabin, he'd tunneled an underground passageway to his mine and built a secure enclosure for the original surface entrance. Therefore, after Ben and Jim arrived home, Jim went into his bedroom, unlocked and lifted a heavy trap-door in the floor, and flipped the switch that turned on the lights along the tunnel and into the mine itself.

Ben didn't much like the narrow steps cut into stone that led down to the passageway, but he followed Jim anyway as he always did, one cautious step at a time. At the bottom of those steps, Jim unlocked a heavy wooden door and the two of them pursued the passageway through yet another locked door which they locked behind them, and on into the mine.

By going underground to work his silver mine, Jim could leave the rest of the world behind, if only temporarily. Of course, he'd enjoyed meeting Jenelli. She was one of the prettiest women he'd ever met, with her long red hair, dazzling green eyes, and absolutely flawless complexion. And when she had smiled, ummm . . . . She was absolutely beautiful! Then, too, she'd seemed genuinely pleased and thankful that he'd found her little girl. But, what of it? He'd remember her for a long time, but she'd have nothing to do with a guy like him. Not after the lifestyle she'd shared with her husband. Even Ben seemed to know that.

Jim went to work in earnest then, digging into the bountiful silver ore, as happy as he ever could be–without Crystal. In fact, as often happened, he became so engrossed in his mining that he didn't realize how late it was getting until Ben alerted him with a gentle "WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!" to let him know that it was past time to quit and get something to eat.

He put aside his tools, and patted the big dog's head affectionately. "Okay, Ben," Jim said, "let's you 'n' me go back up to the cabin."

Ben wagged his tail happily as he led Jim along the underground passageway, through the doors, and up those narrow stone steps back to the cabin. Once inside the cabin, the big white dog did his usual patrol around each of the rooms, making sure that everything was exactly as he and Jim had left it. Satisfied that all was well, Ben hurried straight to his food bowl.

Jim checked the readouts on the perimeter alarm systems that monitored human and vehicle traffic on his access road and around his cabin, garage, and storage shed. Everything seemed to be in order.

He also did a brief tour of the cabin, and quickly discovered that the red light on the Caller ID was blinking. That was unusual because he seldom received a telephone call, let alone a voice-mail message.

Most people Jim knew didn't even have a land-line telephone any more. He'd kept his, however, because his cell phone didn't work well when he was underground or far back in the mountains--and a caller could leave him a voice message on the land-line phone.

To his surprise, Jenelli Paterson had called on his land-line telephone. He knew who had called because her name and phone number had registered. When she hadn't reached him, she'd actually left a message: "Sorry I missed you, Jim," she'd said, her voice sounding as if she really meant it. "I'll call you back later. Bye."

Jim instinctively reached for the telephone, thinking that he'd call her back, then abruptly drew back his hand. No! That response would not be appreciated, maybe not even welcome. After all, she was a beautiful, high-society woman, married until quite recently to a seemingly successful banker and far removed–thoroughly insulated, as it were–from the life of simple pleasures that he enjoyed. She'd already thanked him for rescuing Alycia. What more could she have to talk with him about, anyway? Let her call back if she wanted to speak to him. He seriously doubted that she would.

In a way, he wished she would call him back. She was a beautiful woman, after all. What guy wouldn't like a call from a beautiful woman? And then he remembered her eyes darting around his cabin, taking in the furnishings. Looking things over. No doubt noting the things that weren't there. No! From what George had said about the Paterson's mansion, Jenelli wouldn't have much interest in Jim's home, or his lifestyle--or him. What could she have wanted to talk with him about, anyway?
CHAPTER 3

George Henry called Jim late the following morning. The "delivery" had been made as promised, and now was secured in the vault. "Come in this evening after we close the bank and we'll take a look at it," the banker invited and Jim agreed. "Oh, and by the way," George added, "I've got a couple of things we should talk about."

"Okay. Can we do that this evening, too?"

"Umm. Maybe not. Let me check." Jim could hear George talking with someone before he came back on the phone. "No, much earlier would be better. Could you meet me in, say, an hour? It's very important."

"I'll meet you in an hour," Jim promised. He wouldn't be able to start to work in his mine as early as he would have liked, but George wouldn't have wanted to talk with him so soon if it wasn't about something important.

And it indeed was about something important.

When Jim met George in the same parking lot where they'd met the day before, there were two men with George in the Jeep. Jim instantly recognized them as Eric and Benny Wick, the successful treasure hunters who had delivered his share of the Nazi gold and diamonds from Brazil that very morning.

The men greeted Jim warmly, and without any fanfare, one of them, the man he knew only as Eric, handed him a well-worn, pocket-sized, spiral-bound notebook. "Take a look at this," he invited.

The notebook obviously was old, its cover soiled and its pages brittle with age, its spiral binding rusty. Upon opening it, Jim saw the date, October 24, 1944, inscribed in German at the top of the first page. Upon further scrutiny of the faded lettering, Jim saw that it was a diary or record book of some sort kept by a German soldier. Handing it back to the man who'd entrusted it to him, Jim asked, "Can you read this, Eric?"

"Yep. It's in German, but I can read it a little. However, we got it translated into English." He smiled as he opened a small briefcase, retrieved a file folder, and handed it to Jim. "Here. Take a look."

Jim studied the manuscript intently for several minutes, then grinned. "There's still more Nazi treasure to be recovered, isn't there?" He handed the folder back to Eric.

"Yep. There sure is," Eric replied. "You didn't have time to study this document the way we have, but to summarize it, this is the record kept by a German soldier who helped his superiors smuggle treasure out of Germany during the last days of World War II. It was hidden with the treasure we found, and we think the soldier who wrote this probably was killed to keep him from telling anyone about the location of the treasure--or treasures. Anyway, the records he kept in this diary point us to two other caches of Nazi treasure, one in Brazil and one in Argentina."

"The two other caches were hidden before the one you just found?" Jim questioned.

"Yes. The soldier who kept this record helped hide the two caches mentioned in his notebook as well as the one we just found. We think he was killed and his notebook was hidden with the gold. Anyone else who helped hide the caches probably was killed, too."

"You're going after the other treasures, I reckon?" Jim asked, knowing that no professional treasure hunter could resist searching for the treasures described in that notebook.

"Yep," Benny grinned widely as he replied, "and we figure you're our partner, so we wanted to fill you in on what we had."

Jim wasn't quite sure what Benny was getting at. "You guys did a great job, all right. I'm right proud to be your partner."

"And we want to thank you for being our partner," Eric replied. "You helped us find and get this hoard out of Brazil. We couldn't have done it without your financial help. This notebook was part of that treasure we recovered, so we figure the information in it is one-third yours. We're going to use part of our share of the treasure we just found to go looking for these. Can we count on your putting up part of your share?"

"Sure. Let's go for it." Jim turned to George. "Can you handle the financing with these guys just like we did for the last hunt?"

George grinned and nodded in agreement. "Will do."

The four men shook hands all around. Eric and Benny then climbed out of George's Jeep Wrangler and got into a heavy-duty Chevy van they'd parked nearby. It was the van they'd used to deliver Jim's share of the treasure. Both Jim and George waved to them as they drove off.

A handshake! That was the way Jim liked doing business–with men he could trust, of course. Eric and Benny were okay in Jim's book. He trusted them. And then there were plenty of men he wouldn't trust--handshake or not.

Once Eric and Benny were on their way, George turned to Jim. "There's something I'd like you to do for me."

"Be glad to," Jim replied.

"I'd like for you to ride out into the mountains with Kay and me tomorrow. I want you to take a look at something with us," George said. "Can you work that into your schedule?"

"Sure. What time?"

"How about if we pick you up here in the mall parking lot early on, say eight o'clock? Kay will bring a lunch for us. We'll be gone 'till middle or late afternoon."

"Okay. Anything I need to bring with me?"

George grinned. "Just bring yourself."

* * * * *

Jim was working at his books later that evening when Jenelli's call came, and he answered on the second ring. "Hello."

"Oh, Jim. I'm so glad you're home!" Jenelli exclaimed. "I . . . I hope it's okay that I called you?" The truth was that Jenelli had been extremely hesitant to call. Oh, she wanted to call, all right, but she frankly was a little uncertain as to how Jim would react to her. Would he think she was being too forward, calling him like that? Would he think she was chasing him?

Well, wasn't she chasing him? Jenelli wasn't ready to admit to that to anyone but herself, but she had found Jim to be one of the most fascinating men she'd ever met, so totally unlike her late husband. And she'd thought about Jim all that day!

In fact, what Jenelli did admit to herself was that she felt awfully good inside when she was around either Jim or John Murphy. Both men inspired a confidence and security she'd never felt around Tony or his friends. How she hoped Jim wouldn't think she was being too forward.

Jim's response put her at ease, at least for the moment. "I'm really glad you called, Jenelli." His soft, straight-forward voice made her realize just how much she did like this man. "How's Alycia?"

"Alycia? Oh, she's getting along just fine," Jenelli replied. "Some nasty blisters developed because of the frostbite and I'm sure they're painful, but Alycia's a real trooper for being so small, and she's taking things in stride."

"They're taking good care of her, I hope."

"Oh, my yes! She's on antibiotics, and they're keeping her toasty warm. The doctor says she'll be out of the hospital in a few days. Of course, she was exhausted and very, very hungry, too. I don't think her kidnappers fed her at all. But she's going to be okay. I just know she will. Thank you for asking."

"Sounds like good news. I'm really glad to hear that." Jim wasn't used to talking socially with anyone, and he hoped he didn't sound stupid.

"Yes, it is good news," Jenelli responded. "The only problem for me is not knowing quite what to do to prevent her from being kidnapped or harmed again. I'll be with her for a few days, but then I'll have to go back to work, at least part-time."

"Have you talked with John about this?"

"Yes. He's working something out so that we, that is both Alycia and I, will have some sort of police protection for a few days. And I'll try to be very alert whenever either of us is out and about. In fact, I'm taking a few days off from work just to be with Alycia."

"I see."

"But that isn't what I called you about." Jenelli hadn't meant to be so direct, but the words just tumbled out.

"Oh! Okay." It may have sounded stupid, but it was all Jim could think of to say.

Jenelli actually giggled. "Sorry, Jim, I didn't mean to be so abrupt. I guess I'm just nervous. I . . . I'm--"

"That's okay."

"Sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure."

"Well, then, Jim," Jenelli continued, "first of all I want to thank you all over again from the bottom of my heart for what you did in helping Alycia. I said you must have been guided to her by an angel, and I meant it. God put you and Ben on that highway just when Alycia needed you to be there, and He sent an angel to be sure you didn't miss her."

"Me and Ben were guided by an angel?" Jim almost chuckled before he realized that Jenelli was intensely serious.

"Umm. Jim? Please don't laugh at me. I'm . . . I'm serious."

"Yes, I realize that now. Sorry for the way I reacted. I didn't mean to be rude." Jim mentally kicked himself. How could he have been so insensitive?

"That's okay. Do you think I'm stupid for believing in angels?"

"Well, no, as a matter of fact, I don't." Jim now was serious, too. "You see," he explained, "I had a friend once who believed there were angels among us. She was a Christian, and she believed that God sometimes sent angels to help people. She meant it literally, too. Said we couldn't see them, but they were there. Actually, she believed that we could see them sometimes, that they sometimes took human form in order to interact with us."

"She must have been . . . . Oh, Jim, I'm sorry. You must be talking about Crystal, the girl in the photograph across from the fireplace in your cabin." Jim sensed the sorrow in Jenelli's voice.

"Yes, but you don't need to be sorry. She's been gone a long time now, and I'm sure she's in Heaven."

Jenelli caught the sadness in Jim's voice. "Well, I am sorry, because John told me about her and how she'd been your special girlfriend, and he told me about the terrible fire. You see, I was so wrapped up in my own sorrows when I talked to you that I couldn't even focus on what you said about you being able to understand my heartache. There are so many . . . so many things I want to say to you, to . . . to talk with you about." Again, the words tumbled out. She hoped she wasn't turning him against her by bringing up hurtful things.

"Jenelli, I'm not very good at talking with people," Jim admitted, "but I'll be happy to talk to you. Or maybe I listen better than I talk, and I'll try to be a good listener." It wasn't a very helpful thing to say, but it was all he could think of at the moment, and he really didn't want her to start crying.

"Jim?" Jenelli's voice was softer, radiating kindness.

He loved the way she spoke his name. "Yes?"

"You said Crystal was a Christian."

"Yes, she was," Jim replied. "She went to church regularly, and took me with her as often as possible. . . . Oh, and she had a really nice voice, and she . . . she sang in the choir. Sang solos, too, sometimes. . . . And she was involved in church work in other ways, too. She even taught a Sunday School class for awhile."

It was obvious to Jenelli from the way Jim hesitated in speaking about Crystal that he wasn't used to talking about her. Right now, she needed Jim to listen to her. To really hear what she was thinking. Maybe Jim needed her to listen to him, too. "Jim?"

"Yes?"

"Please pardon me for being so direct, but are you a Christian?"

Jim sighed. "I . . . used . . . to . . . be."

"You used to be?"

"Yes. That's what I said. I used to be."

"Was that back when you and Crystal were together?"

Jim's voice softened. "Jenelli," he replied, "you have to realize that those were happy times for me. I went to church with Crystal almost every Sunday. . . . She read the Bible to me sometimes during the week when we were together. That's how devoted she was. . . . And she prayed with me. Prayed for me, too. She really believed that the Bible was God's Word, and she taught me Bible stories just like she taught her Sunday School class. . . . But . . . But then . . . ."

Jenelli waited a moment. Was she pushing him too hard? Help me to say the right thing, Jesus. Jenelli breathed a prayer for God's guidance in what she was about to say. "But then?"

"All right. This isn't something I tell just anyone, and I wish you hadn't asked, but you asked. To be honest with you, I couldn't understand how a loving God could allow a wonderful person like Crystal to die a horrible death like she did. And I still can't understand it. The truth is, when God took her away from me, I didn't want anything more to do with God." Well, Jenelli might not like his response, but she'd asked.

"Oh, Jim, I'm so sorry. And I really can understand what you're saying. You see, when Tony died in that awful accident and then Alycia was kidnapped, I felt so . . . so . . . . Wait!" Jim suddenly sensed fear in Jenelli's voice. "What's . . .What's . . . that . . . that noise? Let me go– Oh! Iiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Ooooooohhhh!"

Jenelli's sudden and piercing scream of terror echoed in Jim's ear. Her scream was followed with a solid CLUNK as Jenelli's telephone hit the floor. Jim made out a sobbing moan and then the terrible CRASH! of a body collapsing against a piece of furniture and tumbling to the floor. And then there was only silence. Ghastly silence! Something horrible had happened!

Jim kept the receiver to his ear, hoping Jenelli might come back on the line or that he might hear something else that would help him discover what was going on, even though he knew that wasn't likely. All the while, however, he was retrieving his cell phone and dialing John Murphy's number.

John picked right up, listened carefully as Jim explained what he'd heard, then replied tersely. "Keep listening on Jenelli's phone until I get there or somebody hangs it up. I'm on my way out there right now!"

CLICK!

Jenelli's phone line suddenly went totally silent. Someone had terminated the call–or cut the phone wire.
CHAPTER 4

It was approaching midnight when Jim's telephone jangled. "Hello. Jim Wilson here."

"Jim? John Murphy here."

"Yeah, John! What's going on?" Jim asked.

"Just the bottom line for now, okay? I'll fill you in on the details later," the detective replied.

"Sure."

"Okay. First, to reassure you, Jenelli's going to be okay. She had a nasty wack on the head and a bunch of bruises, and she was tied up, gagged, and out cold when I found her. I took her to the hospital, and I'm with her now. Soon as she came around, she asked for you. Would you be able to come see her?"

"Now? At midnight?"

"Yeah."

Jim hesitated, but only for a moment. "I guess so, but I've got an early appointment in the morning so I can't stay all night. It'll take me close to an hour before I can get there."

"Do the best you can, Jim," the detective encouraged. "I know Jenelli will appreciate your being here with her."

The moment Jim entered Jenelli's room, she slipped her hand out from under the sheet. "Come here, Jim," she breathed, reaching for him as he came to her side. "Thank you for coming. Thank you. God has really used you. That makes twice you've been guided by an angel to help me," she whispered. Tears surfaced in her eyes.

Jim clasped her hand in his, suddenly aware of how small and delicate her hand was compared to his. "Glad I could help," he replied, wanting to respond in a more comforting way, but not knowing quite what to say.

John pushed a chair to Jenelli's bedside and motioned for Jim to sit down. Jim sat down, still holding Jenelli's hand. He couldn't remember when he'd last held a woman's hand.

"John?" Jenelli murmured the detective's name.

"Yes. I'm right here."

"I'm so tired," Jenelli whispered. "Tell Jim what really happened tonight. Tell him the whole truth, okay?"

"Okay." John pulled up another chair, then sat and faced Jim. "You know what's been going on with Tony Paterson, Jenelli's husband, don't you?"

"Some of it."

"Yeah, I thought so. You've got friends who'd know the whole story. Maybe more of the details than I do. Anyway, I've tried to shield Jenelli from some of the worst, but now that things have developed as they have I'm not going to try to hide things from either of you." The detective spoke softly and pulled his chair still closer to Jim's. "About tonight, as near as I can piece things together, two men entered Jenelli's house while you were talking to her on the phone. She heard some noise and turned around just in time to see one of them. He--"

"It . . . It was horrible," Jenelli interrupted, her shaky voice reflecting her fright. "He . . . He was wearing a ghastly, evil-looking Halloween mask, looking like a character from an awful horror movie." Her lower lip trembled and big tears slipped from each eye. Jim handed her the box of tissue from the bedside table and Jenelli daubed at her eyes with an unsteady hand.

"The second man came in by way of another door and hit her over the head from behind when she turned to face the first intruder," John continued. "Hit her with a club of some sort. Maybe a heavy flashlight. Knocked her out. Left a good bruise. Then she landed pretty hard on a small table as she fell and got a nasty bruise on the side of her head."

"I see that. And I heard her fall against the table."

The detective shook his head sadly. "She'll have that bruise for a while."

Jim reflected for a moment on what he'd heard over the phone that night. "About then," he noted, "somebody hung up the phone, or they cut the wire."

"They hung up the phone. It was that way when I got there. One of the intruders probably saw that the receiver was off the hook and replaced it."

"What happened next?"

"Even though Jenelli was out cold, the intruders tied her hands and ankles, put a gag in her mouth, and blindfolded her," the detective continued. "They even put a pillow-case over her head. Then they went to the big wall safe in the study where her husband kept, or used to keep, anyway, quite a bit of cash. They apparently had the combination, because they opened it easily and cleaned it out. Left it standing wide open. Then they did a quick tour of the house, picking up whatever they could find that looked like it had value, including all of Jenelli's expensive jewelry they could find. Of course, they were long gone by the time I got there."

"Professionals?"

The detective nodded. "I'd say so. The whole intrusion was very well planned. They must have known Jenelli was there, but they didn't care."

Jenelli broke in. "Oh, John,?"

"Yes?"

"Tell him the rest of the story," Jenelli whimpered. "Tell him about Tony and all the nasty stuff he did. Tell him what I've been through."

John sighed. "I think Jim knows all about it, but I'll summarize what I know." He turned to Jim. "It's been simply awful for Jenelli. A nightmare. You see, over the past few years, Tony ran up tremendous gambling debts. It's come out that he gambled with the bank's money and that of his friends as well as his own, and he lost it all. Mortgaged the house, cashed in his insurance, and lost all that money, too. He probably took some of Jenelli's jewelry, too, because some of the more valuable pieces were missing as of a few days ago. Maybe he pawned it. We don't know."

"It's . . . It's a . . . It's a horrible mess! I'm afraid . . . I'm afraid I'm going to lose the house and . . . and . . . ." Jenelli gasped, her face now white and drawn as she spoke. As her voice trailed off, Jim squeezed her hand. "Oh, Jim?"

"Yes?"

"I'm a Christian and I've always believed that God is in charge of things, but this whole situation with Tony and Alycia's kidnapping has just about got me down. I . . . I want you to . . . to pray . . . for me!"

"I'd like to, Jenelli, but I told you how it is with--"

"Jim?" Jenelli interrupted, her glistening green eyes now focused on Jim's, her voice insistent.

"Yes?"

"I know what you told me, but I'm sure that Crystal taught you how to pray. She probably prayed with you, too."

"Well, yes, she did, but that's been a long--"

Jenelli squeezed his hand. "Jim, please. You still know how to pray. I know you do, so I want you to pray for me, right now. Bow your head and just talk to God. Tell Him you're interceding for me, and that I need His help and Alycia needs His help. Please try. God's used you so much to help me, I just know he'll listen to your prayer for me." She was still crying a little, but she also was smiling up at him. Even with her beautiful red hair disheveled and no makeup, she was absolutely gorgeous.

"Okay, Jenelli. I'll give it a try."

Jim bowed his head and closed his eyes. For the first time in ten years, he prayed, doing his best to pray for Jenelli and Alycia as Jenelli had asked him to. When he opened his eyes and looked at her a few minutes later, her eyes were closed and her face was more relaxed than he'd seen it since he'd known her. "Thank you, Jim," she whispered. He was so handsome! "God is answering your prayer. I can sleep now."

Moments later, Jim realized that Jenelli was breathing steadily, drifting off to much-needed sleep. Had his prayer really caused that peace to come to her?

Once Jim was certain that Jenelli was asleep, he motioned for John Murphy to follow him out of the room. "John, I've got an early-morning appointment, so I've got to get home and get some rest. You'll keep an eye on Jenelli tonight?"

"Yes. You go ahead," the detective responded, "and we'll be in touch. I'm going to try to get Jenelli and her daughter into a safe house tomorrow or the next day, whenever they're able to leave here." Then, as Jim turned to leave, John added, "Jenelli really wanted you here. I guess you know that now."

"Yes, I guess so. Don't know for sure why, though." Jim shrugged his shoulders. "A high-society girl like her wouldn't normally give a guy like me the time of day."

John didn't attempt a direct response to Jim's statement, but his dark eyes twinkled and his face twisted into a grin. "From some of the things she's said, I think she really likes you, Jim. Anyway, thanks for coming to be with her tonight. And, Jim, forget that society-girl stuff. She's not like Tony was." Then, as he watched Jim walk down the hall toward the exit, he chuckled and murmured to himself, "I can tell when a gal's after a guy. She's gonna come right after you, Jim, and just maybe you're gonna like it."

* * * * *

Even though he hadn't had much sleep, Jim felt good as he drove into town the next morning to meet George and Kay. He felt good about Jenelli's having asked him to come see her in the hospital, and although her request that he pray for her was a little awkward for him because he hadn't actually prayed in a long, long time, he'd done the best he could. And his prayer had seemed to help Jenelli relax and go to sleep. Crystal used to say that a sincere prayer could turn the world upside down. Maybe she'd been right.

Crystal would have been proud of him, praying like that. Jim knew that. Maybe she was up there in Heaven, watching him and encouraging him to pray. And then a strange thought crossed Jim's mind. What if Crystal had actually sent Alycia and Jenelli into his life to help . . . to help him . . . to help him with . . . to help him--with what? Well, as Crystal just might have put it, to help him get back into a good relationship with God. With Jesus.

Jenelli seemed convinced that God had sent him into her life. Maybe God really had sent Jenelli and Alycia into his life! But then, what could a woman who'd lived the luxurious life of a prestigious banker's wife manage to see in him--a man who didn't even own a suit?

Jim pushed those thoughts aside when he saw George's Jeep in the parking lot. Moments later, he greeted George and his wife, Kay, and the three of them were on their way. They had something important to share with Jim; of that, he was absolutely certain.
CHAPTER 5

George drove east on the old two-lane highway for about three miles, then turned left onto a seldom-traveled rock road. Years ago, the road had been well-maintained. It wasn't now, however, and very few people ever traveled that way. A mile or so later, the overgrown rock road became a narrow, rocky trail. George eased the Jeep into four-wheel drive and kept going. Slow. This was his kind of country.

As the terrain became even more rugged, more beautiful in Jim's eyes, the conversation quickly turned serious. "As you know, Jim," George was saying, "Kay and I are rock hounds. We spend a little time out here looking over the rock formations whenever we get the chance."

"Um-hmm." Jim knew that "rock hound" term was an understatement of their interests and abilities. Kay had earned a master's degree in geology at the State University, and George had worked with precious stones in a jewelry shop to support himself while he was in college. He still crafted exquisite jewelry as a hobby. In fact, he had hand-crafted some of the finest jewelry worn by the governor at her inaugural celebration this past year. Her jewelry had been well noted in the press, and she'd publicly acknowledged George's talents.

Both Kay and George spent a great deal of time exploring the mountainous wilderness looking for unusual and valuable "rocks." From some of the things George had said, Jim guessed that hobby was about to pay off for them--big time. He could hope that was so. They certainly deserved good fortune.

The rocky trail became even rougher and the sturdy Jeep pitched rhythmically as George eased it along. "Hang on!" George suddenly cautioned. Jim and Kay grabbed supports as the trail seemed to nose-dive for several hundred feet before it leveled out. Jim saw that they now were traveling parallel to an old creek bed. This would be Sycamore Creek, if Jim remembered correctly.

A few hundred feet more and George braked the rugged Jeep to a stop. "This is as far as the Wrangler will take us," he said. "Let's go for a walk."

Kay lifted a heavy canvas bag from the back of the Jeep and reached inside. "Before we go for that walk, I want to show you something, Jim," she said. Then, as she placed a rock in his hand, Kay asked, "What do you think of this?"

Jim carefully examined the rock. Little flecks of gold glittered in the sunlight. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "Looks like the real stuff to me, but I'd want to have it assayed to be sure. I could assay it for you, but I'd recommend that you use a certified lab so the results would be credible."

Kay's brown eyes danced and she smiled. "I've already done that, Jim. It's the real stuff, all right. High grade."

A smile flickered on Jim's face. Of course, she'd already had that rock assayed. He should have known that because Kay was one of the smartest people he knew. "Smart thinking," he told her. "I gather you found it around here?"

"Yep. Right up there." Kay pointed up the slope toward a rocky outcrop that had been exposed within a depression. "I'd like for you to take a look around where we found this rock and tell me what you think about the prospects for gold mining here."

"Okay. Let's go take a look."

Kay put the rock back into her canvas bag and placed it back in the Jeep. "We checked, and nobody has a mining claim staked out anywhere near where we found this rock," Kay continued, "so I staked one, and we got it posted a few days ago."

"Good thinking. That's what I'd have done."

Kay took the lead. George and Jim followed as she led them along the old creek for a short distance, then turned and began to climb a trail cut into the bank. A few steps past the posted claim marker, Kay stopped and pointed. "Right up there is where I found the rock I showed you."

Jim stopped part way up the embankment and looked around. The creek bed was almost directly below them. "Have you tried panning for gold in the creek?" he asked.

"Yep. In fact, we did that before we found the rock. When we found a small amount of gold in the creek bed, we started looking around the embankment to see if there might be more. And there was. Right up there." Kay smiled as she pointed again to where she'd found the rock.

Kay reminded Jim of Crystal. Perhaps it was because both women were about the same size and because they both dressed in Western clothing. Furthermore, both were wiry individuals and quite deliberate in their approach to anything they put their minds to. There was nothing fragile about either of them, and they both were highly motivated. Of course, there were other physical similarities, too. Both Kay and Crystal were about 5'-3" and both had gorgeous brunette hair, but those characteristics faded in Jim's mind as he contemplated what he considered much more important in a person–their inner resolve to see a project through.

George had brought a shovel with them, and Jim asked to use it. Soon he unearthed a second layer of rock similar to the one Kay had discovered earlier. George chipped off a chunk of the rock and handed it to Kay. When she washed the dirt away with water from her canteen, that rock exhibited sparkling gold flecks just like the one she had had assayed.

"I've got an idea as to what we've found here," Kay said, as they made their way down the embankment and back to the Jeep, "and if I'm right . . . ." Her voice trailed off as she took the lead on the narrow trail.

"Okay. I'd like to hear the story," Jim replied. He loved treasure stories.

Once the group was back at the Jeep, Kay handed the rock to Jim while she drank from her canteen. "First things first, Jim. Before I tell you a story, we were hoping you might have some suggestions about whom to contact for help in developing a mine here."

"Sure thing. I can help with those kinds of contacts." He studied the rock for a moment, then handed it back to Kay. "Have this assayed by a certified lab if you want, just for reassurance, and then . . . ." Jim paused as he searched his wallet, pulled out two business cards, and handed the first one to Kay. "This man's a semi-retired mining engineer. He worked with me when I started mining. I'd recommend that you contact him. Tell him I recommended him to you." He handed her a second business card. "This man represents a small gold mining company that is eager to expand. George can check out their references, but to the best of my knowledge both of these men are honest and would do a good job for you. And I trust 'em. In fact, the mining company rep helps me market the silver from my mine."

Once the three were again settled in the Jeep and headed back toward town, Jim asked Kay what she meant when she said she thought she might have an idea as to what they'd found.

"There's a legend," Kay began, "about a lost gold mine on Sycamore Creek, and that was near Sycamore Creek where we staked our claim."

"Um-hmm."

"Well, the story is that an eccentric hermit worked a mine of sorts there on Sycamore Creek back in the early 1800s. Seems as if he was panning for gold in the creek and found just enough to keep him interested. Then he discovered gold somewhere along the creek bank and began to remove it. Smelted it somewhere around there, maybe in a dugout on the creek bank.

"The guy counterfeited gold coins from the gold he found there," Kay continued. "They were good enough copies that he was able to pass them off as the real thing. The story is that he also made solid gold bars, but we don't know that for sure. The counterfeited coins story is fairly well documented.

"He used to go into town for supplies every now and then and he paid with gold coins, but he never gambled or patronized the saloons, so he never had much occasion to show off his wealth. Never flashed a bag of gold or anything like that. Still, people figured he had a mine somewhere.

"As the stories go," Kay continued, "people tried to follow him when he left town, hoping to follow him back to his mine. Two ruffians who tried to follow him just disappeared. Nobody knows what happened to them. He apparently eluded all the others who tried to follow him."

"Hmmm? Nobody managed to follow him to his mine?"

"Not that we know of."

"What happened to him?" Jim asked.

"He was staying at a hotel in town one night when he suddenly took sick and died. Zap! Just like that. When they went through his belongings, they found some of the coins he'd made. He'd mentioned to someone that he lived on Sycamore Creek, and people searched that creek and the dugout where he lived for his source of gold, but they never found anything except what little gold they panned from the creek. My guess is that we've found the old eccentric's source."

"That's quite a story," Jim responded, "and I might be able to add something for you to think about."

"You've heard the story?" Kay questioned. Knowing Jim's interest in buried treasure, she was sure that he had.

"In a general sense," Jim responded, "but not in the detail you provided. You've done a good job of research."

"Thanks, but you said you had more information?"

"Well, maybe," Jim replied. "Not so much information as a suggestion. My guess is that the old guy buried some of his gold coins or maybe some of the gold bars he smelted. As the story goes, he never spent much in town and he wouldn't have trusted banks. So, Kay, my suggestion is that you should look for likely places where he might have buried his gold. If there are caves in the area, he might have stashed some of his gold in one of those--and then dynamited the entrance. Figured he'd come back later and collect his treasure."

"Maybe so. We'll keep that possibility in mind."

"Oh, and there's one more thing." Jim thought for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

"What's that?"

"I read someone's speculation about why the old man's mine was never found. The suggestion was that he knew he was ill, maybe about to die, so before he went into town and checked into the hotel where he died, he dynamited the entrance to his mine. Made sure nobody else could get to it, not without a lot of work, anyway. It may be that erosion has stripped away the loose rock and exposed the rocks you found.

"At any rate," Jim continued, "look for any evidence of the guy's having been there. Even after all these years, there may be something that'll give you a clue as to where he buried his gold. Maybe you can even find the remains of the dugout where he was said to have lived on the creek bank."

Kay thought a moment. "Jim?"

"Yes?"

"You're the best treasure hunter I know. Would you come out and help us look for any gold the guy might have buried?"

Jim grinned. "I'd love to, Kay. And, I'm sure going to be interested in how the mine develops. Keep me informed."

* * * * *

It was late in the afternoon when George and Kay dropped Jim off at his pickup in the mall parking lot. Just before he started the drive back toward his cabin, Jim had an idea. As long as he was in town, he'd drop by the hospital and visit Jenelli. His clothes were a little soiled and wrinkled from the day's outing, but he hoped she wouldn't mind. And if he was going to see Jenelli, he'd drop by a florist and pick up a nice bouquet of flowers for her. Surprise her!

Jim arrived at the hospital, absolutely delighted with his thought to surprise Jenelli with flowers. He was almost to her room when he heard the laughter. Laughter? What was going on? The door to her room was slightly ajar–and Jenelli obviously had company! Whoa! Did she ever!

A quick glance through the slightly opened door was enough for Jim to see exactly what was going on. Jenelli was sitting up in an overstuffed chair, wearing a robe of some sort over her hospital gown. An extremely well-dressed man wearing a dark suit was standing near her, his hand affectionately placed on her shoulder. In contrast to her behavior of the night before, Jenelli was quite animated, clasping her visitor's arms with her hands, tossing her head, and laughing excitedly as they talked. Both of them were facing away from the door, the man partially behind Jenelli, so they didn't notice Jim as he watched them there for a long, long, moment.

Jim hesitated at the door, debating only briefly about what he should do, but then kept right on walking down the hall. No way was he going to interrupt Jenelli and the affluent visitor whose company she so obviously enjoyed. No way! Let them have their fun. Jenelli certainly didn't have any need of him or of the flowers that night. That night or ever again! That guy could buy her all the flowers she wanted. In fact, Jim felt so rejected that he almost pitched the flowers into the nearest waste basket, but then he saw a nurses station down the hall and thought of a better use for the flowers.

"These are for you and all the nurses on duty this afternoon," Jim told the nurse on duty, quickly handing her the bouquet of flowers as he spoke, "to let you know just how much we appreciate you, and believe me, we do appreciate you."

The nurse was young, probably having only recently graduated from nursing school, and she was absolutely beautiful in her crisp white uniform–just as Crystal had been beautiful at her age, at least in Jim's eyes.

"Well . . . Well, thank you, sir! They're . . . They're absolutely beautiful!" the obviously startled nurse stammered. Then, as Jim started to walk away, she called after him, "Excuse me, sir, but may I tell the nurses who brought these beautiful flowers?"

Jim hesitated a moment, then turned to her and smiled the best he could. "It really doesn't matter who I am. Just tell the nurses that they're very much appreciated, each and every one of you," he replied.

He kept right on walking. Down the hall. Through the exit door. Down the stairs. Outside to the parking lot where he'd left his pickup. Moments later, he was on his way home. He did not so much as look back at the hospital.

It had become overcast and a light mist was falling. Jim turned on the windshield wipers, then switched on the pickup's radio and picked up a weather forecast of rain turning to snow tomorrow. Rain turning to snow. All right! It would be perfect weather once again for him to look for that outlaw gold cache he'd started looking for the day he and Ben had found Alycia.

* * * * *

Back at his cabin, Jim saw that his Caller ID light was blinking to let him know that he'd missed a call. A message was waiting for him: "Hi, Jim. This is Jenelli. It was so good to see you last night. Please call me or, better yet, stop by. Bye."

It was so good to see him, huh? And he had stopped by to see her. That was when he found that she had a captivating visitor.

Forget it. What had he been thinking, anyway? Jenelli didn't need him. No way. Her charming visitor, boyfriend or suitor, perhaps–-whatever he was!--appeared to be quite affluent. Handsome and affluent. He could buy her a new house of the kind she'd been used to, could buy her a new car if her late husband's creditors took her car away, too. What was it to him, anyway?

Jim had been infatuated with her for a little while. He admitted that. And what man wouldn't be? She was beautiful. Red hair. Green eyes. She was high-society, too. Her touch sent little shock waves through him. Yes, he'd been infatuated with her for a little while. But he wasn't now. It was over. All over. That was one call he simply wouldn't have to return. With one quick jab at the phone, Jim deleted Jenelli's message.

* * * * *

"Ya find any money in that big ol' safe?" The stocky man who'd driven the two men to the Tony Paterson residence asked, once they'd finished in the house and he was driving them away.

The man seated in the passenger seat shook his head. "No. Not much, anyway. We cleaned out the house as well as that safe, and there wasn't enough cash or valuables around to treat the three of us to a good steak dinner."

"Paterson must have stashed a lot of cash somewhere," the man seated in back said, "but it sure wasn't in that safe like we thought it would be. We may be able to get a little something out of the jewelry, but there wasn't much of that around, either. The way his wife wore jewelry, there should have been a lot of it around. Maybe Paterson swiped it himself. Pawned it, maybe?"

The driver shook his head. "Yeah, he probably pawned his wife's jewelry, but he must have stashed his hoard of cash somewhere," he growled. "Are ya ready for me to go beat up his wife like I did her husband? Jog her memory just a bit? Help her remember what Paterson did with the cash? Lead us to it if she wants to stay healthy?"

"Not just yet, but soon," the man in the passenger seat replied, "that is, if she don't cooperate with us."

The driver smiled. He enjoyed beating up on people, male or female, but especially females. The Paterson woman would be more cooperative once he finished with her.
CHAPTER 6

Jenelli slept fitfully. Why hadn't Jim called? Why hadn't he stopped by to see her? The questions troubled her and spoiled her sleep. Why? Why? Why? She had so looked forward to seeing him, looked forward to him seeing her sitting up, with her hair fixed, and with makeup! Beautiful as she could be–for him! Why? Why? Why? Maybe he really didn't like her. Maybe she'd done or said something he didn't like. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. There were a host of questions. There were, of course, no possible answers to her questions–except negative ones. And those negative ones were hard to swallow because she'd really wanted . . . .

Wanted what? She didn't really need a man–a husband. After all, she had her own life, a career of her own, a . . . . Nonsense! At that moment, Jenelli wanted only one thing–to get better acquainted with Jim Wilson. And he hadn't even returned her call. What could he be doing that was more important than calling her?

In her anguish over Jim's not having called her, Jenelli's thoughts turned to Tony. Where had she gone wrong with him? She'd loved him, or thought she did. And he'd provided well for her, at least at first. But she apparently hadn't been enough for him, and he'd turned to other pleasures. He'd hidden the gambling and the terrible financial loses from her for several years, but then after he'd lost all that money, he couldn't hide his terrible addiction any more. Had there been another woman--like some said? And then he'd . . . he'd died in that accident. Or was it an accident? She'd overheard people talking about Tony's death, and they were whispering "suicide." Regardless of what had happened, she'd lost Tony. And now, because of his gambling, she was about to lose her house and car and . . . and maybe everything else–including Jim.

She'd tried to be a good wife and mother. She'd tried to be a good Christian, too. She'd prayed hard for Tony after she'd learned that his gambling was out of control. Maybe Jim was right. Maybe God didn't . . . . No! She knew better. God loved her and cared for her and . . . and he'd give her the comfort and strength to carry on. And Jim . . . Jim had prayed for her, and she'd had the best night's sleep she'd had for quite some time. But why? Why hadn't Jim stopped by to see her, or at least called?

Tomorrow! Jenelli glanced at her watch. It was too late now. Tomorrow she'd call Jim. She'd tell him just how much she needed him. And she did need him.

And yet? She had to admit that Jim might not be the perfect match for her. Could she and Alycia live with him in that . . . that . . . cabin? Way out there in the mountains? With no television? What would life be like for her out there in those mountains without televisiion? These questions troubled her, even as she thought about how much she needed Jim.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning, Jenelli buried her face in the pillow, exhausted with her countless unanswered questions, and cried herself to sleep.

* * * * *

Snick! . . . Snick! . . . Snick! . . . Snick!

The windshield wipers on Jim's pickup once again kept up a steady rhythm against the sleet as he drove slowly down the same seldom-traveled highway he'd driven a few days ago. As he drove, his eyes searched the highway on both sides for landmarks that would have existed back in the late 1800s, landmarks that could have been used by outlaws on the lam as markers for treasure they could not carry any further with them.

There! There, to the east were the three outcroppings of rock, white against the soil surrounding them, that he'd spotted earlier. Opposite them, to the west, was the prominent depression in the ground. Those features might well have served as reference points to the outlaws eager to bury their loot and get on down the trail. Hmmm? What else might have served as well–or better? He'd take a closer look around.

Jim pulled off the road and stopped his pickup between the outcroppings and the depression and studied the terrain. Taking a small notebook from his pocket, he sketched a crude topographical map of the area. Now, if he were to draw lines between the three outcroppings and the middle of the depression . . . . Hmmm. Would there be or have been a third reference point? Almost certainly. Where was it? There was a mountain peak to the south. It was a long ways off, barely visible through the sleet, but men used to the outdoors back in the 1800s were used to seeing and identifying things at long distances.

And there were mountain peaks far to the north as well. Jim squinted through the sleet. Those peaks weren't readily visible through the sleet, and, besides, those outlaws were riding south. They'd likely have focused on things to the south. At least, that's what he would have done.

Jim carefully studied the terrain. Think like an outlaw on the run with a heavy bag of gold, he told himself, like an outlaw just ahead of the posse.

Jenelli's soft laughter as she caressed her friend the night before kept getting in the way of his critical thinking. Steady yourself, Jim. You can do it. You know how.

Jim did know how. As a military policeman, he'd been taught how to focus his attention, how to clear his mind of everything that might interfere with his mission of the moment.

He found a boulder, sat down, ignored the sleet that was bouncing off his weatherproof hat and jacket, closed his eyes, quieted himself, and imagined that he was an ordinary ice cube. As he focused on that ice cube, it began to melt. The water spread out around the cube, flowing across a shiny surface that he did not quite fully visualize. As the cube slowly melted, he let every distraction slip away with the imagined flowing water. By the time the cube had completely turned to water, Jim's mind was crystal clear and focused on his chosen task of the moment.

And suddenly, there it was, that third feature that Jim himself might have chosen as a reference point had he been on the run from the law on a winter day back in 1892–the grey ghost of a patch of ground devoid of vegetation where once a settler's cabin had stood. Only two stones that might have been a part of the cabin's foundation remained, but Jim could tell where it stood.

He'd studied that cabin-site before. Maybe the cabin had been standing back then when the outlaws were on the run. If so, it probably had been abandoned or the outlaws would have ridden out of their way to avoid confrontation with an armed settler. Or maybe not. They were well armed. Then again, they might have been friends of the settler.

Jim had done his best to learn something about that cabin but he couldn't locate information on who had built it or when. Official records weren't kept back when that cabin was built, and there had been no references to its owner in the newspapers that had existed back then.

But could this cabin site be the third reference point he'd been searching for? Jim looked carefully around the area. Nothing else would serve as well as that patch of ground, with or without a standing cabin. Not if it were him wishing to mark where he would hastily bury a stolen bag of gold.

Back in his pickup, Jim sketched the cabin site onto his topographical map. Drawing a line between the three reference points just might locate the spot where they'd buried the gold. He could find this well-defined spot again when the weather cleared, and he'd be back then with his metal detector.

Ben sat on the pickup's seat and intently watched Jim sketch his recreated treasure map. Normally, Jim would take the big dog out with him, but today Ben would have gotten soaked with sleet. Not that the dog would have minded that, not in the least, but Jim would have. Ben would be along, of course, when he came back to search for that buried treasure. Ben had a good nose for treasure.

* * * * *

"I . . . I just don't understand," Jenelli was saying. "I . . . I so . . . so hoped Jim would . . . would call or . . . or . . . or better yet . . . come see me." John Murphy could see that she was near tears.

The detective debated for a moment about what he should say. "I think, Jenelli," he responded softly, "that he really did stop by."

Jenelli recoiled in disbelief and her face clouded. "What? He . . . He did!" She stammered. "Well . . . Well, why . . . why didn't he . . . why didn't he come to see me?"

John didn't answer her question directly. "When I was coming down the hall just now," he told her, "I noticed a beautiful bouquet of flowers at the nurses station. When I commented on them, one of the nurses on duty told me that a man brought them by late yesterday afternoon."

"You . . . You think that was Jim?"

"Before I attempt to answer that question, let me see if I can find out for sure." John turned, left Jenelli's room, and walked down to the nurses station. A different nurse was there now. "Were you on duty yesterday afternoon?" he asked the nurse.

She looked up at the detective. "Yes, sir."

"Let me describe a man to you. Thirty-six years old. Well over six feet tall. Muscular. Blue eyes. Blonde or reddish blonde hair and--"

"And a fierce, reddish-blonde beard, right?" The nurse giggled as she interrupted John.

The detective chuckled. "Right on, girl. You've seen him recently, then?"

"Yes. Yesterday, late afternoon. He came down the hall and handed me this beautiful bouquet of flowers. Said they were for all of the nurses, to express his appreciation for us. For all of us, he said. Those are the flowers he brought." The nurse pointed to the flowers. "Those are the flowers he gave us." She hesitated a moment, then continued, "We appreciate them, because we don't get thanked very much for what we do, let alone get flowers."

"I understand. Did he tell you his name?" the detective ask.

"No. I asked his name, but he said it didn't make any difference. He looked kind of sad, actually, like he didn't have much to say right then. Just walked over there and out that door, like he was in a hurry. Probably went down the stairs and outside." She pointed in the direction Jim had taken. "Did he do something bad, detective?"

"Oh, no. He hasn't done anything bad. I was just wondering if he was here yesterday, and obviously he was. Thanks." John turned.

"Wait a moment." the nurse called. "Is he a friend of yours?"

John turned back to the nurse. "Yes."

The nurse beamed. "That man's a real hunk. If he's not attached, you tell him to call me. I'll work my magic on him the best I can, you can count on that. My name's Cheryl Andrews, and he can reach me here at the hospital. Umm. By the way, what is his name?"

"Jim. Jim Wilson."

The nurse smiled as she turned away. "Jim Wilson. I'll remember that," she murmured, "and tell him again that I said thanks for the flowers. Oh, and tell him to call me."

Jim Wilson. She'd remember his name all right. She'd also remember that he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. She could enjoy getting acquainted with a man like that.

* * * * *

"Jim was here yesterday afternoon, all right," John told Jenelli. "He left flowers at the nurse's station." John guessed that the flowers were intended for Jenelli.

"But . . . But then, why . . . why didn't he stop to see me?"

"My guess is that you had a visitor when he arrived at your door. You see, Jim isn't the kind of person who'll interrupt you if--"

"Oh, yes," Jenelli sighed as she interrupted John, "I did have a visitor, and I can imagine exactly what it looked like to Jim if he looked in the door. You see, my brother was here in town on business, and he came by to see me. We've, my brother and I, we've always have been really close, and he's very affectionate toward me. We probably were holding hands or he was rubbing my neck, something like that, when Jim looked in. Jim probably thought it was my boyfriend."

"Jim's right sensitive, all right," the detective replied, "maybe more so than he ought to be. If he saw someone else with you, he'd figure you didn't want anything to do with him. The flowers probably were intended for you, but he figured you wouldn't want them so he gave them away."

"Oh, no!" Jenelli exclaimed. "I'll call him. Right now." She reached for the phone.

"Wait a moment," John cautioned. "This is not a good time to call him."

"But I've got to explain?"

"You're not going to get an answer, Jenelli, not right now, anyway."

"I . . . I can leave a message. He will listen to it, won't he? I . . . I feel awful."

"I understand how you feel, but you'll have a better chance of getting him if you call this evening. Right now, he's probably working in his mine, and his cell phone doesn't work there, at least not very well."

"His . . . mine?"

"Oh, yes. Didn't you make the connection? Jim owns and works a silver mine. Works it himself when he isn't involved in something else."

"A silver mine!" Jenelli's brilliant green eyes grew wide with excitement. "A genuine silver mine?"

"Yes, it's somewhere out there near his cabin," John explained. "He's the only one who knows exactly where it is."

Jenelli had never known anyone with a silver mine. "How . . . How does he come to have a . . . a silver mine?" she blurted.

"It's really his story to tell," John replied, "and I probably shouldn't even have spoken of it, but it's no secret so I'll tell you what I know. Back in the early 1800s, one of the early explorers in this area discovered silver, most likely what's now Jim's mine. The guy mined some and smelted it into bars himself. As soon as people found out about the mine, he had serious trouble with outlaws trying to kill him and take his mine, so he dynamited the entrance to the mine, buried the silver he had smelted, and took off with what silver he could carry.

"There wasn't any law enforcement in the area back then, however, and the outlaws captured him before he could get very far. When he wouldn't tell them where his mine was located, they took the silver he was carrying and then killed him. We know that because one of the outlaws later confessed and showed people where the miner had been buried.

"As you can imagine, a lot of people looked for the lost silver mine and the cache of smelted silver bars, but they didn't find either the mine or the silver. Some figured that the mine didn't really exist. Finally, after the furor died down, Jim's grandpa bought the land and settled on it, but he only lived for a few years. Jim's dad inherited the land, but by then he was ranching back in Texas, so he never even made it out here to see the place. To make a long story short, Jim came out and built a cabin on the land after he got out of the service, and one day he discovered that silver mine and the miner's cache. He's been working it ever since."

"That's just incredible!" Jenelli exclaimed. "And it was after he got out of the service that he lost Crystal?"

"Yes. He had built his cabin, and was beginning to work the mine. Crystal absolutely adored him. They were inseparable–and then she died in that terrible fire. As you can imagine, her death was awfully hard on Jim. In fact, I was afraid he might kill himself, and I did everything I could think of to prevent that."

"I'm so glad you were there when Jim needed you. So, you knew him before he built his cabin and started working that mine? Before Crystal was killed?"

"Yes. We knew each other in the service."

Jenelli sighed. "I sure do like him," she murmured, "and I hope he isn't upset with me."

John nodded his understanding. "I hope not, too." He leaned close to Jenelli. "To change the subject, I gather you haven't received the phone call we're expecting?"

Jenelli shook her head. "No."

"They're probably waiting for you to go home."

Jenelli quavered visibly. "I'll . . . I'll be going home this afternoon but Alycia won't be with me. It'll be better if she's not there at home for a little while. The thought of those thugs calling scares me a little. Do you really think they'll be coming after me?"

"Oh, they'll be calling, all right, once you're home and alone," John replied. "They'll be after you--big time. I just hope the electronic gadgets the police installed will trace their call."
CHAPTER 7

They--whoever they were--must have been watching her house because Jenelli hadn't been inside for more than five minutes when the telephone rang. No name or number registered on the Caller ID. She almost let it go over onto voice-mail, but no! She'd have to answer it sooner or later. Jenelli's hand trembled as she picked up the receiver.

"Hello." Her voice was tight.

"Well, well, if it isn't Jenelli. You finally came home." The voice was a gentle purr, almost seductive in tone, but harsh nonetheless.

It was the call she'd dreaded, all right. John had told her to keep the caller talking, give the police time to trace the call. "Who . . . Who is this?" Her heart was racing, her palms sweaty with the tension.

"Never mind who it is," the voice responded. "Listen carefully, Jenelli. Very carefully."

"Okay. Okay. I'm . . . I'm listening." Jenelli breathed a prayer to Jesus to help her stay calm.

"Get in your car and go over to the pay phone outside the convenience store on the corner of Seventh and Ash street. We'll be watching, and we'll call you there. Be quick about it, and don't call the cops." With a muffled "click!" the phone line went silent.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to work. There would be no way the police could listen in on or trace a call to that pay phone. Well, she had to do it. Had to answer that call. And she was glad Alycia wasn't there at that moment.

She'd follow their instructions. She'd be quick about it. She wouldn't call the police. Help me stay calm, dear Jesus, she prayed over and over again as she drove hurriedly toward the convenience store. If she ever needed Jesus's help, she needed it now. Did she ever!

They had to have been watching for her, because the pay phone was ringing even as she approached. Jenelli steadied herself against the wall but her hand trembled as she picked up the receiver. "He . . . Hello."

"Jenelli Paterson, am I right?" Again, the voice was a seductive, taunting purr.

"Ye . . . Yes, it is."

"We're going to get very well acquainted, Mrs. Paterson," the voice purred. "You see, your late husband owed me over a million dollars when he died, and I want my money."

Jenelli's hand was shaking and her voice quavered. "I . . . I'm afraid I . . . I can't be responsible for his . . . for his debts."

"I don't expect you to be responsible for his debts." The voice was harsher now.

If the caller didn't expect her to be responsible for Tony's debts, why was he calling? Jenelli didn't know how to respond. "Then–?" she began, hesitantly.

"Listen carefully, Mrs. Paterson. Your husband hid a lot of cash. He--"

"I . . . I don't know anything about--" Jenelli interrupted.

"I asked you to listen, not talk." The voice interrupting her now was harsh. Angry and menacing.

"S . . . Sorry!" Help me Jesus!

"Your husband hid a lot of cash," the voice repeated, "and I think you know where it is. At least, you know where a good share of it is. And I want what's mine. You hear me? I want what your husband owes me."

"I'm . . . I'm sorry, but I don't know anything about what Tony did by way of hiding cash." She felt stronger.

The threatening voice ignored her comment. "Mrs. Paterson, I'm going to give you a day or two to think about it."

"An . . . And then?" Jenelli dreaded asking that question. She'd never felt threatened like this before.

"About seven months ago, a stocky man wearing a ski mask paid your no-good, thieving husband a visit," the voice now purred. "Remember? He--"

"Oh, my!" Jenelli gasped, interrupting the caller. "I . . . I remember, all . . . all right. He . . . He beat . . . beat up Tony . . . beat him . . . real bad."

"That's the one I'm talking about. I'm glad you remember." A vicious smile crept into the voice as if the speaker relished the memory of Tony's beating.

"Tony was . . . was in the . . . the hospital . . . for a long time." Jenelli stammered, remembering how frightened she'd been, remembering how she'd prayed.

"You got it, babe. Now you think carefully about exactly where your husband hid his cash, 'cause if you don't remember, the same man in a ski mask is going to pay you a visit. You're a pretty woman, but you won't look so pretty when he gets through with you, and I guarantee you'll be anxious to tell me where your husband hid his cash once you're out of the hospital and able to talk. Otherwise, the man in the ski mask just might pay you a second visit. He'd like that--but you wouldn't!" The voice paused a long moment for effect. "Now, you think carefully, Mrs. Paterson," the voice continued, "and I'll be in touch. We'll go for a ride and you can show me exactly where he hid that cash. Then the man in the ski mask won't have to pay you that visit." The telephone connection suddenly went silent.

Jenelli slowly hung up the phone, stumbled across the parking lot to her car, and sank back into the driver's seat. Tears stung her eyes. She felt totally exhausted. How she wished Jim could have been there with her. Oh, she knew there wasn't anything he could have done by way of responding to the terrifying voice, but she knew she'd feel safe with him–and now she was afraid she'd alienated him. The feeling that Jim might not want any more to do with her exhausted Jenelli even more. Please help me, Jesus, she breathed again and again. It was the best prayer she could come up with at the moment, but she was certain that Jesus would hear and answer it.

John Murphy was waiting outside Jenelli's house when she arrived back. "The police didn't count on them making you use a public phone," he told Jenelli, "so we weren't able to trace the call."

Jenelli relayed the conversation to the detective. "What do we do next?" she asked.

* * * * *

Back at his cabin, after a change into dry clothes, Jim unfolded a topographical map of the country he'd looked over earlier that day. With the map on his desk, he pinpointed the landmarks he assumed had been used by the outlaws and drew lines between the points. As he suspected, the lines defined a small area. It was there within that area that he and Ben would begin searching for the buried treasure. "We'll go out the next dry day that we can," he promised Ben, "and we'll find that treasure."

There was still time to work in the mine. On his way to the bedroom and the trapdoor-entrance to his mine, Jim found himself eying the Caller ID on his telephone. There was no blinking red light. There had been no calls. And why, Jim angerly asked himself, would he expect one. Jenelli had her boyfriend with her now, and she'd have no need of him.

"Come on, Ben," he called. The big white dog wagged his tail and eagerly followed Jim into the mine.

* * * * *

It was late that night when Jim and Ben returned from the mine to the cabin. This time, the Caller ID on his telephone displayed the blinking red light he'd looked for earlier. He had voice-mail waiting. John Murphy had left a brief message: "I need to talk with you. Call me." Jim dialed John's number.

The detective had never gone in for chitchat. "I know it's late, but I'd like to stop by later tonight, Jim," he began. When Jim replied that that would be fine, John said, "See you as soon as I can get there. Good bye."

Jim checked the Caller ID and his voice-mail again. There was no second call. Well, what had he expected, a call from Jenelli? Fat chance. Why had he expected her to be interested in him, anyway?

* * * * *

It was still later that night when John Murphy arrived at Jim's cabin. "Got three or four things I want to relay to you," he told Jim, once the men were seated in front of the fire.

"Okay."

"First off," John began, "you were wrong in what you assumed about the guy with Jenelli when you went to see her yesterday."

So the detective knew he'd been to see Jenelli. "I was wrong? How so?"

"The guy you saw with Jenelli was her brother."

"Her brother?" Jim scowled and rolled his eyes. "That didn't look like a brother and sister act to me."

"No, probably not," John countered, "but I know Jenelli better than you, and I believe her. She says that she and her brother were very close as kids and have remained so today. He was in town on business and stopped by to see her. He's gone now."

"I see." Jim wasn't sure he did see, but he'd say so to appease John.

The detective chuckled. "Jim, here's something else I'll pass on to you. How you respond is up to you. The nurse you gave the flowers to is named Cheryl Andrews, and she was quite impressed with you. Said she thinks that you're a 'real hunk.' Those were her exact words. She told me that if you are unattached, like she thinks you are, I should tell you to call her. You can call her at the hospital. Ask for Cheryl. They'll know who you want. If she's not immediately available, leave your name and number and she'll call you back. Oh, and she also said she'd 'work her magic on you.' Those also are her exact words."

It was Jim's turn to chuckle. "Well, that's a switch. I never had a girl tell me that before!"

"I'll bet you would if you got out and about more," John replied. "Cheryl's cute, too. If I were a few years younger and unattached, I'd give her a call myself. Anyway, that said, I want to update you on what's happening with Jenelli." The detective described his visit with her in the hospital and how she'd received the threatening phone call as soon as she got home. "I moved her to a safe house for the time being," he concluded.

Jim slowly got to his feet, walked over and studied the video monitors that recorded activity around his cabin for a moment, and then turned back to the detective. Thinking things through before he responded. "A safe house, eh? Who operates this safe house, John?" he asked, uneasiness creeping into his voice.

John sensed Jim's agitation. "To answer your question, the police operate the place. Well, the County Attorney finances it and approves how we use it, but the police operate it. Is something wrong?"

Jim paced the floor, circling the room to glance out each window, then stopped and faced the detective. "I don't think that placing Jenelli in a safe house operated by the police was a wise move," he said. Ben sensed Jim's disquiet, the clear signal to him that something might be wrong, got to his feet and began to prowl about the cabin, checking for himself to see that everything was all right.

"Why not?" John asked. "She ought to be safe there."

"I don't think so," Jim repeated. His pale blue eyes hardened.

"Well, why not? What's the problem with the safe-house?" Annoyance surfaced in John's voice.

"Let me ask you a question," Jim began. "Are you involved at all with the investigation into Tony Paterson's gambling catastrophe and his death?"

"Only tangentially," the detective replied. "I work with missing children these days and got involved with Jenelli when the little girl was kidnapped."

"Then you may not know all of the scuttlebutt about Tony Paterson."

"Know what scuttlebutt?"

Jim hesitated for a moment. He didn't like to be the one to break the news about Tony's involvement with cops to his friend, but then John had better know. "The scuttlebutt is that Tony gambled away not only his own fortune and bank funds, but the life savings of two well-placed cops. Maybe ran 'em into serious debt, too."

"Two cops, you say!"

"Some people even speculate that the cops were involved in Tony's murder," Jim continued, "like maybe one of 'em ran him off the road. Now, if that is correct, the same cops now might be involved in threatening Jenelli, trying to get some of their money back. They might even have been involved in kidnapping the little girl. And, what I'm getting around to, they would certainly know where Jenelli is if you put her in that safe house that's run by the cops. They'd have the phones tapped, maybe even listening devices in the rooms."

John got to his feet. "Yeah, I hear you, Jim." He slipped into his coat and clamped his hat onto his head as he spoke. "I'll go check on her."

"Wait a second." Jim called. "Here's something else."

The detective stopped, his hand on the door knob. "What's that, Jim?"

"You said the police had Jenelli's phone tapped and were ready to trace the call you were expecting her to receive, but then she was ordered to go to a public telephone."

"Right."

"If the scuttlebutt is right and cops were involved with Jenelli's husband, they'd sure know how to defeat a phone tap."

Jim stood at the cabin's door, watching the detective hurry through the lightly-falling sleet to his car. A few minutes later, the tail lights of John's Ford were growing dim in the distance. "I hope you're not too late, John," Jim murmured, half aloud. "I hope you're not too late."
CHAPTER 8

It had been a terribly exhausting day for Jenelli and she welcomed the opportunity to spend the night at the house–a "safe-house" John had called it–which he assured her was well guarded and inaccessible to the general public. As she sat watching a newscast on television, she slowly relaxed, thankful that her little girl had been returned to her, thankful that they both were safe, hopeful that Alycia could be back with her soon. Thank you, Jesus, she whispered.

As Jenelli relaxed, her thoughts turned to Jim. God had somehow given her a burden for him ever since she'd talked with him about Jesus a few days ago. He weighed heavily on her heart, and she had prayed for him. And she would keep praying for him. It was just that she'd had so many things of her own to worry about that she found it hard to keep Jim in her prayers. That was the devil's way of hindering her. She knew that. The devil would try to keep her mind in a turmoil so that she couldn't be a very effective Christian. And Jenelli knew that the devil is very good at what he does.

Still, her Jesus was more powerful than Satan. The Bible said that if she would resist the devil, he would go away and leave her alone. Jenelli had memorized that promise in the book of James when she was a child. She would pray that God would give her the strength and courage to resist the evil one.

In fact, Jenelli had memorized a number of Bible verses when she was a child. She'd been encouraged to do so in her Sunday School classes and in the Daily Vacation Bible School her church sponsored during each summer. Twice she'd won awards for her memorization. As an adult, she'd been able to draw upon those verses any number of times.

As she prayed for strength and courage, another Bible verse came to mind. In First John 4:4, it was recorded that "Greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world." God was within her and she had His promise that he was greater than the devil, the one referred to in the Bible as "he that is in the world." The devil might throw many stressful hurts her way, already had as a matter of fact, but in the end, God would prevail. He'd promised He would prevail, and His word was truth. If only she could find the strength to trust Him through this crisis of Tony's making!

As Jenelli prayed and meditated upon those Biblical promises, a gentle calmness settled over her. She indeed would have the courage she needed to face whatever came. Thank you, Jesus, she whispered. Thank you for being so good to me. Help me to be a better–

RING-G! RING-G! RING-G-G!

Jenelli's prayer was cut short by the harsh ringing of the telephone. Who . . . Who could be calling? No one was supposed to know where she was except John and the police. Not even Jim knew where she was.

RING-G-G! RING-G-G! RING-G-G-G!

Memories of her earlier telephone conversation flooded her mind and her hand involuntarily quavered as she lifted the receiver. "He . . . Hello."

"Did you really think you could get away from me so easily, Mrs. Paterson?" The familiar terrifying voice she'd heard earlier that day taunted her. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" The terrifying voice broke into horrible, frightening, horror-movie-like laughter, then continued: "You can't get away from me. No way."

"I . . . I--" Jenelli stammered. "How . . . How did--?"

"You can't get away from me. I know where you are, Mrs. Paterson," the voice interrupted, "and I do hope you've been doing some serious thinking about where Tony hid his cash. My cash."

"I--"

"We'll go for that ride I promised you soon," the voice purred, interrupting Jenelli. There was ice water in that man's veins, and Jenelli got the distinct impression that he was looking forward to hurting her if she couldn't tell him where Jim had hidden the cash the man believed was due him.

"I--"

CLICK!

Before Jenelli could respond, the telephone line went silent. For the first time since Tony died, she felt totally alone and helpless. Even the God she'd counted on as the source of her strength seemed to have deserted her. When her telephone rang again a few minutes later, she was almost too frightened to answer it.

"H . . . He . . . Hello?" Jenelli's hand was shaking and her voice quavered as she managed to lift the receiver and speak.

"Jenelli? What's wrong?" Jenelli recognized John's voice. Thank you, Jesus, she breathed.

She was too frightened to answer right away.

"Are you all right?"

"Oh, thank goodness, it's you, John. Yes, . . . Yes, I'm all right," Jenelli stammered. "No, I'm . . . I'm not all right. I'm . . . I'm scared to death and . . . and I . . . I don't . . . I don't know what to do."

The detective immediately guessed the reason she was frightened. "They called you, didn't they?"

"Ye . . . Yes."

"I was afraid of that. Make sure your door is locked. Prop a chair under the door knob, and then just sit tight. Don't answer your door. I'll be there in a few minutes. Get you out of there." John's voice was calming.

"Please . . . Please don't let them . . . don't let them get me or . . . or Alycia," Jenelli begged, her voice tight with fear.

"I'll do my best." The detective tried his best to be reassuring. "Now you sit tight and I'll stay on the phone with you. I'm on my way, and I'll be there within ten or fifteen minutes."

* * * * *

Jim settled into his recliner. Ben curled up on the floor at his feet. They wouldn't go to bed, Jim told himself, not until he heard from John and knew that Jenelli was safe. And what about Alycia? Jim could only hope that someone was keeping watch over Jenelli's little girl.

Why? Why couldn't he let John take care of them? Why did he have to be so concerned? Why was he so concerned, anyway? The questions raced through Jim's mind, and there was only one satisfactory answer: Because he really liked Jenelli. Liked her? That was the understatement of the hour. He was almost crazy about her, like an adolescent nerd might be enamored by the prettiest cheerleader–who wasn't about to show the slightest interest in him!

"G-Gr-Growl!" Ben growled softly to let Jim know that he'd heard something unusual outside. Something was out of place. A glance at his watch informed Jim that well over an hour had slipped by since John left to check on Jenelli.

"Gr-Grr-Grrr-Growl!" Ben's growl was more insistent this time. The big white dog was facing the highway, ears alert to pick up sounds that Jim could not yet hear. That's when Jim saw car lights in the distance. Those lights were cutting patterns through the light sleet that was falling outside. As Jim and Ben watched from a darkened window, the lights followed the drive leading from the highway toward Jim's cabin.

BEEP! BEEP! . . . BEEP! BEEP!

Jim's driveway alarm system beeped twice to let him know that someone was rapidly approaching.

"Good dog." Jim patted Ben's head even as his hand closed on the Colt in his jacket pocket. "Let's see who's coming to visit us at this hour of the night."

By the illumination of the outside security light, Jim recognized John Murphy's Ford. He opened the cabin door just a little and watched as Jenelli climbed out of the passenger side. She was clutching an overnight bag. John climbed out of the driver's side. He retrieved a small suitcase from the back seat, and the two of them headed directly toward the cabin, hunched over against the sleet that was falling.

Well! Well! So the detective had brought Jenelli to his cabin for safekeeping. Something had gone terribly wrong at that safe house, just as Jim was afraid it would. Well, Jim hadn't asked for this, but he knew what he had to do. Even before the visitors reached the door, Jim was pulling on his insulated coveralls and grabbing for his hat.

"Oh, Jim!" Jenelli whispered his name as she came inside, then threw her free arm around his neck, collapsed against him, and buried her face in his chest.

"Hi, Jenelli." Jim circled her with his arm, holding her tight for a moment.

"After what happened, I thought we'd better get her out of that safe-house," John explained over Jenelli's head.

Jim nodded in agreement. There wasn't time for talk. "Fill me in later. The house is yours. You know where everything is, John. Make yourselves at home. Get some rest if you can. Both of you. I'm going outside."

Jenelli backed away and her wide eyes searched Jim's face. "You're what?" she asked. "You're . . . You're going outside? Jim, it's . . . it's so cold out there and . . . and it's sleeting!"

"Yes, but until we determine exactly what's going on, somebody's got to stand guard." He turned to John. "Did anybody follow you out here?"

"I don't think so."

"Let me have your car keys. I'll put your car where it'll be out of sight as well as sheltered from the sleet. Make it a little less obvious that you're here, if they don't already know." Jim held out his hand and John placed the keys in his hand. "As soon as I put your car inside, I'll return your keys." He ducked outside and ran to John's Ford. A few minutes later, he had the car parked out of sight in a large storage building.

Once the detective's car was hidden, Jim walked down the drive toward the highway. Standing in the shadows, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness and then carefully scanned the area along the highway and his drive. When he didn't see anything out of place, he quickly returned to the cabin.

Back at the cabin, Jim returned John's car keys. "I'll be outside until daylight," he told his unexpected guests, "and then I'll knock in code, two quick taps followed by three slow taps and repeat. Lock the door as soon as I'm outside and don't let anybody in until I knock." He handed John a small, hand-held radio and showed him how to use it. "I'll call you on this if there's a need, or you can call me," he said, "and Ben will help you keep watch from inside. If he growls, you'll know there's something out of place. Trust him. Okay?"

John nodded his understanding. "Okay."

Jim calmly yet quickly retrieved his night-vision binoculars, tactical flashlight, and night-scoped rifle from his closet, then checked the rifle to be sure it was fully loaded. As he started for the door, Jenelli clutched his arm. "Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

"All I can say is . . . is 'thank you!' from . . . from the bottom of my heart." Tears spilled down her face.

Jim couldn't help but throw his free arm around her in a classic, semi-bear hug. "You're welcome," he whispered. "We'll talk later." Moments later, he pulled his cap lower on his head and slipped outside without another word. John immediately locked the cabin door.

* * * * *

"You take the bedroom. Try to get some rest," John told Jenelli. He pointed her toward Jim's bedroom. "I'll stay out here in the living room and rest in the recliner. Ben and I'll keep watch for any problems that might develop through the night."

"What . . . What about Jim?" Jenelli whimpered. "Will he be . . . Will he be safe out there all by himself in this horrible weather? What if . . . What if those . . . those thugs followed us out here?" At that moment, Jenelli was more concerned about Jim than herself.

"He'll be okay," John reassured her, "and so will we."

Jenelli turned to John, her expressive green eyes wide with questions. "Who? Who is that man? He goes out there into the cold and sleet with a rifle and . . . and night-vision equipment. He . . . He seems so . . . so confident, so sure of himself. Who is he, anyway?" she whispered.

John smiled. "He'd be a little scary if he wasn't on our side, but you don't have to worry. Jim doesn't have all the modern amenities in his cabin, but I told you you'd be safe here."

"But who or . . . ?" At that moment, Jenelli wasn't concerned with amenities. She wanted to know more about Jim.

"I told you I knew Jim in the service," John replied. "We both were cops, military cops. And Jim was a good cop. In fact, I wanted him to join the force when he got out of the service, same as I did, but he found this silver mine instead. Said he'd seen enough dead bodies, and that he preferred the quietness of the mine."

"So Jim works his mine . . . ?" From what John was telling her, Jim was one of the most unusual and interesting people she'd ever known.

"I guess there's a little more I could tell you. Jim's got a good reputation as a self-taught geologist. He works as a consultant or something, whatever they call him, for a world-wide mining consortium of some sort. I don't know very much about what he does, because he doesn't talk about it, but every now and then he disappears for a few days or a week, or more. From the few things he's said, I gather that he'll help a company evaluate the potential for developing a new mine. Then again, knowing Jim, maybe they send him somewhere as a troubleshooter."

"I'd never have guessed he does all of those things."

The detective smiled. "No, Jim's a quiet person and not much of a talker. Of course, he has a number of business interests, and he's adept at locating lost treasures."

"So now this wonderfully interesting man has literally become my guardian angel," Jenelli mused.

John chuckled. "I don't know much about angels, but if you've got to have one, he would be one of the best. When we were in the service, in addition to investigating serious criminal activity, Jim taught self-defense to the rookie cops."

Jenelli sank into one of the chairs opposite John who was seated in the recliner. "I'm exhausted," she said, "but somehow I'm not ready to rest. Maybe I don't feel quite right about just moving in on Jim. I just know right now that I really, really admire that guy." What she did not allow herself to say to John, she said to herself: I don't just want to know him better–I want him!

"Jim means it when he says to make yourself at home," the detective countered. "I'm sure he'd want you to do just that, and the bedroom is yours whenever you want to lie down. I'm going to look around." John got up, and with Ben trotting along beside him, walked through the cabin, checking the windows and doors to be sure they were locked, alert for any signs of unwanted activity, but finding none.

Jenelli recalled the first time she'd seen the inside of Jim's cabin. It had been the day after he'd rescued Alycia, and she'd wondered then exactly what Jim did. As she re-created that day in her mind, her eyes fell on the unusual rock she'd seen on Jim's desk. Turning to John, she asked, "What is that odd little rock on Jim's desk? I've never seen anything like it."

John chuckled. "No, you've probably never seen anything like it, Jenelli. It's a big, rough, uncut diamond."

* * * * *

"John Murphy got her out of the safe house," the stocky man reported with a sneer, "but she ain't out of our sight, because I followed them. He's got her out at Jim Wilson's place. Probably thinkin' we don't know where she is. Ha! Ha! Ha!" He laughed his laugh that communicated his evil intent. "Whenever you say the word, I'll go beat some sense into her. Make her eager to take that ride with you."

His companion thought for a moment, then replied. "She can't stay there at Wilson's place very long. We'll bide our time, let her get to thinkin' she's safe, and then, if she don't cooperate, you can go beat her up. Knock some sense into her."

"You just name the day and I'll do it," the stocky man retorted, clasping his hands together in anticipation. There was a distinct yet sinister smile in his voice. "Name the day."
CHAPTER 9

When Jim first built his cabin and started mining, he'd had several unwanted visitors. Mostly they came late at night, and they were up to no good. The simple truth was, they'd wanted to kill him and take his mine. It had taken some time and effort, but Jim had since developed a variety of simple security systems that alerted him to intruders on his property.

Because of these early experiences with malicious intruders, Jim had blasted out a shallow cave on the hillside behind his cabin. A narrow, circuitous pathway, cleverly designed with several snares to deter intruders, led to that cave.

From that vantage point behind and above his cabin, Jim could see the highway and the drive leading up to his cabin as well as the immediate area around his cabin and buildings. He had built a seat in that cave and camouflaged the entrance so that he could sit there and observe the area without being seen. It was to that strategic vantage point that he hiked that night.

Once he was settled in his observation post, as he sometimes referred to it, Jim carefully surveyed the entire area through his night-vision binoculars. There was no human activity that he could see. Perhaps John and Jenelli had not been followed to his cabin, although Jim found that a little hard to believe, given his belief that they were dealing with professional thugs--or cops turned thugs. More likely, they'd followed at a distance. No doubt they had observed John's car turning off the highway and on to Jim's drive. So be it. If they, whoever they were, thought they'd get Jenelli away from him and John while she was there at his cabin, let them try.

Or was it all a bad dream? What was he thinking, anyway, Jim asked himself. Here he was getting involved in protecting Jenelli Paterson from the thugs who were trying to collect on her late husband's gambling debts. And George Henry had said the thugs might be involved with the mob–or they might be angry cops bent on revenge. Either way, they had the resources to make life miserable for Jenelli and anyone who tried to help her--including him.

Well, Jim had not asked for this assignment. Nor had he ever backed away from an assignment simply because it might turn dangerous. Detective John Murphy had thrust him squarely into this mess. Jim knew he'd better make some serious plans for Jenelli's safety. His own safety, too. With that objective in mind, he reached for his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

* * * * *

Jim kept close watch over his cabin and the surroundings until the morning sun began to rise in the east. Although he had remained extremely vigilant throughout the night, he had seen no human activity in the area.

Truthfully, he hadn't expected anyone to come and try to take Jenelli hostage. Not that night, anyway. But they'd know where she was, and once she was out of there, out on her own, wherever that might be, they'd strike. Of that, Jim was certain.

Back at his cabin door, Jim softly knocked the coded knock and John opened the door, his finger against his lips in the universal signal for silence. "Jenelli's still sleeping," he whispered, pointing toward the closed bedroom door.

Jim nodded his understanding. "I'll fix some breakfast," he whispered back, "and then we'd better talk."

The smell and sounds of bacon sizzling and coffee perking awakened Jenelli from her much-needed sleep. For a moment, she could not remember exactly where she was, and then she remembered that she was in Jim Wilson's cabin–and in his bed.

Breakfast was cooking. Jim and John must be waiting for her. After last night's adventures, she must look a sight! A few minutes at the mirror, however, and Jenelli was satisfied with her appearance. She'd wanted to look especially beautiful for Jim, but after what she'd been through the past few days, well . . . she'd do her best and hope Jim would understand.

* * * * *

Jim's telephone rang while they were eating breakfast. Jenelli froze, remembering her last telephone conversation, hoping the caller wasn't asking for her. He wasn't.

Unlike his cell phone, the land-line telephone in Jim's cabin was reasonably secure. It no doubt could be tapped or bugged and he generally treated telephone conversations on it as if they were being monitored, but the little green light glowing on the black box under the telephone gave him some reassurance that it was relatively secure.

"Jim Wilson, here."

Jim's caller was direct and to the point: "We need you to fly to Uganda, Jim. There'll be the usual support group."

"When will I leave?"

"This evening at eight o'clock. There'll be a helicopter to pick you up at the usual place."

"Can you estimate how long I'll be needed there?" Jim asked.

"Two to six days."

"Okay. I'll pack a bag and be ready."

That was the way the assignments usually came in, on short notice and urgent. It wasn't a good time for him to leave, what with Jenelli and John depending on him, but that was the way these assignments worked. He'd anticipated that assignment coming, however, and last night he'd made arrangements for Jenelli's protection in his absence.

John sensed what the call had been about. "Work to do elsewhere?" he asked, when Jim returned to the breakfast table.

"Yes, I'm sorry to have to leave right now, but there's a new assignment waiting for me. I'll be leaving this evening at eight o'clock for a few days." Jim turned to Jenelli. "I think you'll be safe staying here for a few days, though, Jenelli, and I've made tentative arrangements for you to have the best protection I can offer. Of course, if John has a better suggestion . . . ." Jim shrugged his shoulders to acknowledge that John was in charge of the situation.

"You've made arrangements?" John queried, ignoring the implications of Jim's shrug. "What kind of arrangements have you made, and what do we need to do?"

"There's a man named Tracy Hays," Jim replied. "He's a friend of mine from the service who oversees security at my bank and some other enterprises. He's an ex-Army Ranger and he's familiar with my cabin here and the surroundings, and he works well with Ben. If you and Jenelli want to stay here, Tracy has agreed to be here with you full time while I'm gone. He's got backups he can call if he needs them. Of course, if you want to go somewhere else, that's okay with me. What do you think?"

John looked at Jenelli. "I'd say let's take Jim up on his offer, unless you'd rather not?" It was more of a question than a statement. "I'll have to be back in town working during at least part of the days, but you certainly could stay here. If Jim says you'll be safe with Tracy Hays, I think you'll be as safe as is humanly possible."

Jenelli didn't hesitate. "When I heard that man's voice on the phone last night, I wanted to get a long ways away from him." She shuddered, thinking about that horrible voice, as she turned to Jim. "I'm afraid we're really intruding on you, but if it's okay with you, I'd like to stay right here."

Had Jim really said that this man, this Tracy Hays, handled security at his bank? He'd said "my bank" like some people might say "my hat." It had been a simple statement of fact, not a pretentious "look at me" statement at all. So Jim owned a bank! And "other enterprises!" She was slowly learning a great deal about this man who gave the initial impression of being a reclusive man of simple tastes.

Indeed, she was learning so much more about Jim, a man who initially seemed to her to live a very simple life, and yet was now proving to be so complex! And the more she learned about Jim, the more she was sure that she wanted to get to know him. She'd tell him so one of these days soon, too, but now wasn't the time. Jim was so handsome! If John could just find out who the nasty thug was who was calling her, she'd . . . .

"Okay." Jim's voice broke through her thoughts. "There's one thing you need to know about Tracy, though, before I introduce him to you in person."

"What . . . What's that?" Jim's statement brought Jenelli back to the present reality that someone named Tracy Hays was going to be in charge of her safety.

"He's a scary guy."

"Scary? How so?" Jenelli asked.

"Tracy was riding in a military helicopter somewhere in Africa when it went down," Jim began to explain. "He was badly burned, and his upper body and face are a mass of scars. And the reason he was so badly burned is that he went back inside that burning chopper to rescue some of his buddies who were trapped inside. Two of 'em are alive today because of him, but while he was trying to get another one of them out, the fuel tank caught fire." Jim paused, lost for a moment in thought, then continued. "Anyway, Tracy's a big guy and with those scars, well, he's scary. But I'll tell you, he's true blue, and he's the kind of guy you want on your side when the chips are down."

Jenelli almost smiled as she remembered that John had spoken about Jim in a similar manner. To be honest, she'd never known anyone like Jim or the man he was describing, or John for that matter. Tony's friends never would have been described with those same words. And there wasn't a one of them who could or would protect her.

"Tracy had a lot of trouble adjusting to people looking at him like he was a freak." Jim's statement again broke through Jenelli's thoughts. "I guess all of us who are a little different have that problem, but his was harder than most." Jim turned to Jenelli. "Anyway, he oversees security for me, and he'll oversee your security. And he's got several former Army Rangers as good friends that he can call on if he needs any help."

"So, it'll be okay if I stay here for a few days, and . . . and Tracy will be here with me?" Jenelli wanted to be absolutely certain.

"Absolutely. He'll be close by, in person, or in touch by radio. If you're sure you want to stay, I'll give Tracy a call. He'll come right out and you can meet him. I'll turn you over to him, and then I've got to get some shut-eye and get a few things together before I leave this evening."

Jenelli nodded. "Okay. But in order to stay here more comfortably, I will have to get some things from my house. Can we figure out some way for me to do that?"

"Yes, and you'll need some groceries. Tracy can take you to your house. John can go along. They'll make sure things are all right. And Tracy can take you by the grocery store where I've got an account. Charge whatever you need to me, and don't hesitate to buy what you want. Tracy knows how to make use of my account with the store. Okay?"

"O . . . Okay." Jenelli stammered. Things were happening almost too fast for her to follow. And now Jim expected her to charge groceries to his account. She'd never experienced anything like this, but then she'd never been hounded by someone threatening to beat her up and put her in the hospital if she didn't tell them where Tony hid his money, and she hadn't a clue as to what he'd done. Nor, to be honest, had she ever felt so well cared for.

A few minutes later, Jim turned back from his telephone conversation. "Tracy's on his way."

"Jim?"

"Yes?"

"You said that you wanted to get some rest. Shall I . . . I mean . . . Do . . . Do you want your bedroom back?" Jenelli was a little flustered as she remembered that she had occupied Jim's bed last night.

Jim grinned. "No, you keep the bedroom. I'll catch some shut-eye somewhere outside."

"Outside? Oh, Jim, don't be silly. I'm not going to take over your bedroom and make you sleep somewhere outside! It's cold out there!" Jenelli was incredulous.

"Take it easy." Jim threw up his hands in mock surrender and was chuckling as he spoke. "You have to realize that it doesn't make much difference to me where I sleep. You see, when I was starting to build this place, I slept in all kinds of weird places. Sometimes I slept in my truck bed. At other times I slept on the ground under my truck. And I had some hiding places where I slept when I was afraid someone might come around in the middle of the night with the idea he'd kill me."

"Oh, my! Oh, my!" Jenelli's green eyes were wide. "Did . . . Did someone actually try . . . try . . . ."

". . . to kill me?" Jim finished Jenelli's question.

"Y . . . Yes."

"Well, several of them came out here with that intent."

"What . . . What did you . . . What did you do?"

Jim's pale blue eyes hardened just a little. "I made sure they didn't do what they came to do. And I also made sure they wouldn't have a second chance."

From the way Jim spoke, Jenelli sensed that she shouldn't pursue her questioning any farther. "Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

"I . . . I'm really going to miss you."

Jim smiled at her, not quite certain how to respond. She was beautiful!

Jenelli smiled back. He was so handsome! "Will you miss me, even a little bit?" she asked. She seemed to Jim to be on the verge of tears.

"Yes. Yes, I sure will." It wasn't a very good answer, perhaps not the emphatic one that she wanted, but it was the best Jim could do right then, and he didn't want her to cry. It really hurt him when she cried.

"Jim?"

"Yes?"

"I'll . . . I'll pray for you while you're gone. I'll pray that things will go right for you." She paused for a moment, a little uncertain if she should ask her next question. "You are going somewhere where it's dangerous, aren't you?"

"Yes. There's always a certain amount of danger."

"Then I'll pray extra hard that you'll come back safe and sound." She turned to John. "I'll also pray that God will help you find those guys who are hounding me."

Except for the other night when Jenelli asked him to pray for her, Jim hadn't prayed since Crystal died. He wasn't sure it would do any good for Jenelli to pray for him. Still, it was the offer that counted. "Thanks," he managed, not knowing how else to respond.

"I'll pray that you'll come back safe and sound–and soon," Jenelli added. What she didn't say aloud was that she'd pray that he'd come back soon to her--to her arms. Instead she said, "I'll miss you, Jim."

* * * * *

Jenelli wasn't the only one who was thinking about Jim Wilson. Cheryl Andrews had thought about Jim ever since she'd met him. And then she'd learned his name--and thought about him still more. He hadn't called her, but then maybe that detective hadn't relayed her message to him. She'd find out. As soon as she had a few moments to herself, she dialed John Murphy's number--only to learn from him that Jim was going to be temporarily out of the country. She wasn't going to give up, however--not on that hunk! No way!
CHAPTER 10

Jenelli's heart was troubled as she returned to the bedroom in Jim's cabin, knowing Jim would soon be leaving on a dangerous trip. She knew she wanted Jim more than she'd ever wanted anything in the world, wanted to hug him and kiss him and woo him–wanted to make him hers for the rest of her life.

Still, she was troubled with countless questions. Could she actually fit into Jim's life? That is, assuming he wanted her as much as she wanted him. She certainly hadn't been able to fit into Tony's life of endless parties, television viewing, drinking–and gambling. In fact, it almost made her physically sick just thinking about the lifestyle he had led. She'd tried to enjoy that lifestyle with him, but it had proved impossible. She simply wasn't that kind of woman.

Yes, she had to admit, marriage to Tony had been a terrible mistake. To put it bluntly, she was a Christian woman married to a man who wouldn't and didn't take God seriously. And that was a "no-no!" because her Bible said in Second Corinthians 6:14 that a Christian should not be "unequally yoked together with unbelievers." She hadn't been able to influence him to live like a Christian should, not much anyway, but he'd certainly influenced her, more for bad behavior than for good.

But the mismatched marriage was at least partially her fault, too, because she hadn't been listening to God as closely as she should have been. And Tony had seemed to be a Christian, a "nominal Christian" some might have called him. He could talk the Christian "talk," all right, but once he'd gotten hooked on making and spending money and the prestige associated with being a powerful banker, well, the gambling and parties just seemed to follow naturally.

The question Jenelli faced now, though, was whether she could be a good wife to Jim, assuming, of course, that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. That was the way she was going to pray and if God didn't approve of her and Jim getting together, well, Jenelli hoped God would simply close that door. She couldn't go through another ordeal like she went through with Tony. No way! And, as the current events had indicated, there was more trouble yet to come--on account of Tony's disastrous gambling habits.

* * * * *

With introductions hastily made, Jim left Tracy to talk with John and Jenelli while he went outside and walked directly to his storage shed. The shed appeared to be rather old and dilapidated. It was designed to look that way. In addition to the space where Jim had parked John's Ford in order for it to be out of sight, the shed had been finished on one end to include a small lab where Jim could assay his finds to determine their gold or silver content. Also, he'd partitioned off and insulated a small sleeping room. Jim and Ben had slept there any number of times, whenever he'd had reason to think there might be intruders around. Today, Jim went there to sleep.

* * * * *

When Jim awoke, John's car was gone. Tracy's Buick was in its place in the storage shed. A glance at his watch told Jim it was time for him to get ready to go to the airport where he'd be picked up by a helicopter and flown to an airstrip maintained by the mining consortium for which he consulted. Minutes later, he had his gear together.

Tracy and Jenelli drove Jim to the airport where the helicopter was waiting. As Jim climbed out of Tracy's Buick, Jenelli grabbed his hand and clasped it to her. "Jim, wait," she whispered.

"Um-hmm?"

"I . . . I want you to know that I'll be praying for you, praying that you'll be safe, and that you'll be back soon."

"Okay. Thank you." Crystal used to say she'd pray for him, but nobody had said those words for a long, long time.

"And here's something for you." Jenelli slipped a small booklet outlining God's plan of salvation into his shirt pocket. "It's something I want you to . . . to . . . have . . . and . . . and read." As Jim smiled back at her, a tear slipped from her eye. "I"m . . . I'm sorry, Jim." Jenelli daubed at her eye with a tissue. "It's . . . It's just that . . . that I'll . . . I'll miss you so very, very much."

"I'll miss you, too," he responded. He meant it, too. She was so beautiful!

And then Jim was gone, walking quickly toward the helicopter–away from Jenelli and toward Uganda.

The helicopter pilot started the engine the instant he saw Jim coming. The big rotors began to turn just as soon as Jim was seated inside the chopper. Moments later, they were airborne.

* * * * *

Jim had been right about Tracy Hays. Jenelli would have been scared to death of him had she not known that he was Jim's friend. Perhaps the thing that impressed her the most about Tracy, however, was not his physical appearance. Oh, he was a big, rugged man, all right, yet he seemed so gentle and reassuring in the way he spoke to her. And his dark eyes! They seemed to be terribly alert! They were the most intelligent eyes Jenelli had ever seen.

And those scars! How horrible, yet Jenelli knew that they were the result of a courageous man's actions to help others. Tracy, like Jim, was in Jenelli's eyes, a man's man. Knowing Tracy was Jim's friend even gave her a tremendous feeling of closeness to Jim--and to Tracy.

Yes, she would be safe with Tracy, of that Jenelli had absolutely no doubt. In fact, she was about to discover just how well cared for she would be.

Once they saw Jim's helicopter take off, Tracy drove Jenelli to her house. "I'll drive around the side streets just a bit before we actually reach your house and pull into your driveway," Tracy told her, "and you let me know if you see any vehicles or people that shouldn't be around here."

"O . . . Okay." What did Tracy expect, anyway?

Tracy drove a pattern around Jenelli's neighborhood, checking the side streets, moving ever closer to her house.

"Oh! Oh!" Jenelli exclaimed, as they finally approached her house. There, across from her house and down half a block, was a car with deeply tinted windows that she did not recognize.

"What's up?" Tracy asked.

"That car to our right. The silver BMW with the tinted windows. I've . . . I've never seen it before."

"Good girl."

"Good girl? W . . . What? Why do you say that?" Jenelli asked, puzzled.

"You've never seen that car before because it's never been parked there before, but that one's supposed to be here today. A guy I know is sitting in it, and he's keeping an eye on the neighborhood. This being the classy neighborhood it is, we figured a BMW would be less conspicuous." He chuckled. "We had to rent it, because none of us owns a BMW. It won't be the only unusual vehicle you'll see around here because the guys trade off so no one vehicle stays around long enough to draw undue attention."

"Whew!" Jenelli sighed. She turned to Tracy. "You think of everything, don't you?"

"We try. Actually, Jim arranged for surveillance on your house two days ago, just as soon as he found out what was going on."

"I . . . I didn't know that."

"Yeah, I reckon not," Tracy responded. "Jim's a doer and not a talker. I guess that's why we get along so well. I'm not much of a talker, either."

"I understand. Have you or your men seen anyone watching the house?" Jenelli found herself whispering. "Maybe . . . Maybe someone watching for me to come home?"

"Oh, yes."

Jenelli felt sick. "Maybe I shouldn't ask, but can you tell me anything about who it is they've seen watching for me?"

"I'll tell you what I know," Tracy responded. "First, though, you've got to understand that Jim doesn't trust the cops much, what with the stories about two of them being mixed up with your late husband's gambling. I guess you know all about that."

"I'm sorry." Jenelli could hardly believe what she was hearing. "I've . . . I've heard some rumors, but I wasn't aware of all that was going on. And I sure didn't know that Tony was mixed up with the cops."

"No, you probably didn't know all that was going on," Tracy replied, "but the story is that Tony gambled away the life savings of two cops, got them to borrow money on their houses and insurance policies with the promises of making them a fortune, and then gambled that away, too. As you can imagine, that made for two very unhappy cops, maybe unhappy enough that they were the ones who ran Tony off the road and killed him."

Jenelli sighed, wishing she didn't have to hear those things about Tony's gambling, yet beginning to grasp the seriousness of Tony's gambling away other people's money. "These cops wouldn't be ordinary street-cops either, would they?"

"Probably not. The average cop doesn't have the kind of money Tony threw away. The theory Jim and I are going on is that it was a well-placed cop or cops, and that's why they're so dangerous, why Jim doesn't trust any of the cops until we get this sorted out. If they were bold enough to get Tony killed, they wouldn't worry about killing again, especially if they thought they could get some of their money back."

Jenelli sighed. "I'm so sorry for all this mess."

Tracy frowned. "It isn't your fault."

"I know. Part of me understands that, and . . . and part of me doesn't."

Tracy circled the block around Jenelli's house, his dark eyes searching the area, then continued. "Anyway, Jim doesn't trust the cops. I don't either. But to answer your earlier question, our guys got the license plate numbers from two suspicious cars along with a description of the vehicles. They ran the numbers through a friend who's a military cop. One's owned by a guy with connections to the mob. The other one belongs to a cop."

"If you . . . If they don't trust the cops, what did they do with the information on those cars?"

Tracy turned into Jenelli's driveway. I'll tell you later. Right now, let's get in there, get whatever things you'll need for a few days, and get out of here before somebody comes looking for you--and we have to deal with them."

"O . . . Okay." The threats of someone beating her up like they did Tony flashed through her mind. She hoped there wasn't someone waiting inside her house–waiting for her.

Tracy must have read her thoughts. "You sit tight here until I have a look inside," he told her. "Let me have your keys."

"D . . . Don't leave me! Please!" Jenelli's voice was tense, fearful.

"You'll be okay," Tracy said, reassuringly. "One of our guys is in that car across the street. Nobody's going to get near you."

"O . . . Okay." She handed Tracy the house keys. As he climbed out of the car, she saw him slip his hand into the bulging pocket on his jacket. Tracy had a gun in his pocket. He'd come prepared for trouble. Of that, Jenelli was certain.

Tracy did a fast but thorough walk-through of Jenelli's house, from basement to second floor. There wasn't anyone in the house, but he saw that the red light on her telephone Caller ID was flashing. She had messages on her voice-mail. Those might be tough for her to hear.

His search of her house completed, Tracy went to the front door and motioned for Jenelli to come in.

Jenelli walked hurriedly to the house, glancing over her shoulders repeatedly to make sure nobody was near, thankful that Jim had sent Tracy and the others to watch out for her. Even so, her knees felt weak as she walked into the house she'd once shared with Tony. She knew she couldn't take much more stress before she dissolved into tears.

The moment Jenelli was inside the house, she saw the flashing red light on her telephone. "Oooohhhhhhh!" she breathed, remembering her previous telephone conversations with the man who wanted her to tell him where Tony had money hidden. Her head swam at those thoughts, and Tracy moved toward her, fearful for a moment that she might faint.

"Want me to listen to the messages?" Tracy asked.

"I . . . I'll . . . Yes . . . Yes, I do, but . . . I'll . . . I'll listen first. I . . . I've got to." Jenelli's head felt light as she blurted out the words. For a moment she was afraid she was going to faint, but then Tracy's hand on her arm reassured her. Thank you, dear Jesus, for sending Tracy, she breathed the prayer.

"Okay. Go ahead. Let's listen to 'em and get it over with."

"Please stay with me. Please." Jenelli gasped.

Tracy moved closer to her, his hand reassuringly on her arm. "I'll be right here. Go do what you've got to do."

With trembling hand, Jenelli lifted the receiver.
CHAPTER 11

It was the purring, ultra-seductive voice again this time: "Don't think you can get away from me, Mrs. Paterson," the voice purred. "Better do some serious thinking. If you don't help me recover at least some of the money Tony stole from me, check out your fate in the bathroom." There was a sadistic laugh and a "click!" as the line went dead.

Jenelli steadied herself against the wall, then handed the receiver to Tracy. He took her arm and led her to a chair. "Sit tight a few minutes," he told her. Jenelli doubled over, her head in her hands. She was breathing hard. For a long moment she thought she was going to be sick to her stomach. She had been so fortunate to meet Jim and Tracy. So fortunate. Thank you, Jesus, for sending them to me, she whispered again and again.

Tracy listened to the telephone message, then knelt down beside Jenelli and said softly, "You stay right here while I go see what's in the bathroom."

"No! No! Don't . . . Don't leave me. I'm . . . I'm going with you." Jenelli started to get to her feet, then suddenly realized just how shaky she really was and clutched for Tracy's arm.

"Take it easy." Tracy steadied her. "Sit tight for a moment. Let me go take a look, make sure it isn't something that'll blow up in our face. Then you can look if you want to, okay?" It wasn't a question.

Jenelli sank back into the chair. "O . . . Okay. Just . . . Just don't leave me. Please . . . Please don't leave me."

"I won't be far away." Tracy tried to be assuring.

A disfigured and dismembered Barbie doll splashed with red paint lay in a towel drawer below the bathroom counter. Tracy studied the remains of the doll for a moment, then returned to where Jenelli was seated. "I'm going to recommend that you not take a look, but if you really want to . . . ."

"I . . . I don't . . . I don't want to," Jenelli whimpered, "but . . . but I . . . I have to. I'll . . . I'll hang on to you, okay?"

"Okay, if you've got to look, you look quick." Tracy took her arm. "Then we're going to get your things and get out of here. I'm going to call a couple of MPs I know at the Army Base to come over and take a look at what these guys or this guy, whoever, left for you. The MPs can check around for fingerprints and take whatever else they can get from the scene by way of clues. They can listen to the phone message, too."

"Ooohhhh!" Jenelli gasped and shrank back when she saw the terribly disfigured and dismembered doll. "That's . . . That's awful. Somebody . . . Somebody meant it as . . . as a . . . a terrible . . . a terrible warning for me, didn't they?"

"Yes. I'd say so. They want to scare you."

"The . . . The first time he called, he . . . he said they were going to beat me up like . . . like they did to . . . did to Tony," Jenelli whimpered. "Now they're threatening to . . . to kill me. Make me . . . Make me look like . . . like that . . . that doll."

"Looks like it."

Jenelli steadied herself against Tracy. "Should . . . Should we call John?"

"John? John Murphy?" Tracy questioned.

Jenelli nodded. "Yes."

"Let's let the MPs do that."

"You . . . You don't trust John?"

"I know he was good to Jim," Tracy replied, "and as near as I know, he's an honest cop, but let's let the MPs get in touch with him. Now, let's get your things together and get out of here. Go ahead and start packing while I place a call."

"These . . . These MPs? They won't have . . . won't have jurisdiction here, will they?" Jenelli questioned.

"Don't you worry about that. They'll interface with the local cops or the FBI when the time's right. Now, let's get your things." Tracy took Jenelli's arm and walked her directly into her bedroom. She was almost in a state of panic. He'd try to keep her moving. Get the things she'd need for a few days and get her out of here. "Where's your suitcase?" he asked.

Jenelli pointed to a closet.

While Jenelli packed clothes and personal items into her suitcase, Tracy placed a call to the MPs. "They're on their way," he informed Jenelli. "Now let's you and me get out of here before your doll-killer shows up in person."

"How . . . How will the MPs get . . . get into the house?" Jenelli asked.

"We'll leave the front door unlocked," Tracy explained. "They'll lock it when they leave. Our guys across the street will make sure nobody else gets in except the MPs. Incidentally, how do you think the doll-killer got in?"

"I . . . I don't know. How . . . How did . . . those guys . . . those guys who robbed me . . . get in . . . get in a few nights ago?" Jenelli's faltering speech reflected the panic she felt inside.

"My guess is they picked a lock, probably on the back door. Or the door that leads to the basement. Or, who knows? Maybe Tony gave one of 'em a key."

"But . . . But Tony had such good locks installed after we bought the house. At least, he . . . he said they were good locks, that nobody could get past them." Jenelli now was working furiously at packing a second suitcase.

"Good locks probably will keep the average riffraff out, but we're dealing with professionals, either the mob or, more likely, bad cops. There isn't any lock or security system around that those guys can't defeat. And, like I said, Tony might have given one of 'em a key--for who knows what reason."

"I . . . I understand." Jenelli sighed, then brightened. "I'm . . . I'm almost ready."

"Good. Now, before we leave, are there any pictures or small keepsakes you want to take?" Tracy asked.

"No. Actually, I think I'd like to leave this whole life behind." Jenelli waved her arm around the room. What she did not add aloud was, and start all over with Jim.

Tracy went out the door first while Jenelli waited inside. He looked things over carefully and then motioned for her to join him at the car.

The BMW was gone. Parked further down the street was a yellow delivery van. "We trade off surveillance vehicles regularly," Tracy told Jenelli. "If we're lucky, it keeps 'em guessing."

While Jenelli was placing her suitcases in the Buick's trunk, Tracy talked briefly on his radio to the man in the van on the street, then turned to Jenelli. "I think we're all set. Now for a visit to the grocery store."

* * * * *

It was back at Jim's cabin and after Jenelli had prepared a meal for herself and Tracy that she found the opportunity to ask Tracy how he'd met Jim.

Tracy didn't answer for several moments and Jenelli was afraid she'd asked something amiss. "You . . . You don't . . . You don't have to . . . ," she began to stammer as she saw the frown cross his face.

"No, it's all right." Tracy sighed. "Even after all these years, it's just kind of hard to talk about, but I know Jim likes and trusts you and he'd want you to know."

Jenelli waited. Tracy had said that Jim liked her. That statement was like music to her ears.

"Jim told you how I got these scars, I guess?"

"Yes. He said that you were very brave. That you were helping your buddies get out of a helicopter that had crashed."

"Um-hmm. That's true, but my guess is that he didn't tell you who pulled me out of that burning chopper."

"No. No, he didn't."

"Well, he doesn't brag about himself," Tracy continued, "but I'm here to tell you that Jim himself did it. Put himself in a world of danger to get me out of it, too. See, I'd already pulled two guys out and went back for a third when the fuel ignited. The explosion knocked me flat and disoriented me something awful. The smoke was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. I'd never have got out if Jim hadn't been there." Tracy paused a moment, then continued. "In fact, if you want to know the truth, Jim saved my life not just that once, but twice."

"Twice?" Jenelli leaned forward, fascinated. Never in her life with Tony and his party-minded friends had she heard men talk in these terms of heroism.

"As you can imagine," Tracy continued, "I was in the hospital for a long time, in several hospitals, as a matter of fact. It was a very bad time in my life. Not only was I permanently disfigured, but my girlfriend took one look at me, ran out of the hospital, and never came back."

"I . . . I'm sorry, Tracy," Jenelli stammered. "I . . . I didn't mean to open old wounds."

"It's okay," Tracy continued. "What's done is done. Anyway, as soon as I could get around by myself, I started spending weekend leaves at a bar near the hospital. There I'd sit hour after hour with other veterans, sharing war stories and drowning my memories with booze."

Tracy fell silent. Jenelli waited.

"Jim hadn't forgotten me," Tracy continued. "One night he walked into that bar and asked me to go for a ride with him, which I did. He was blunt with me. Said the booze was going to be my destruction. Said he had a job for me, but I couldn't keep boozing if I wanted the job. I told him I didn't know if I could stop boozing, but I'd try. He said he'd help me."

Again Tracy fell silent.

"To make a long story short," Tracy continued after a few moments, "Jim got me moved to that hospital where he took your little girl. He paid my medical bills there, got me therapy for the boozing and the stress, and got me started working for him at something I enjoy."

"Jim was an angel to you, too, then, just like he was to Alycia and to me. God must have known you'd need somebody, and sent Jim.

Tracy's face brightened. "You know, that's an interesting thing you just said. My mother used to pray for me when I was a kid. She'd ask God to send His angels to watch over me. She prayed for me when I was in the service, too, asking God to bring me back alive. Today, when you told Jim you'd pray for him, it brought back those old memories. My mom's been gone for several years now, but I wish I had her kind of faith."

"Oh, Tracy. You can have. God loves you. It says so in the Bible. He wants you to trust him, to be his friend." Jenelli's voice was soft, almost a whisper. Even as she spoke, she asked God for the wisdom to know what to say to her friend.

"I . . . I don't know, Jenelli." Tracy suddenly turned, pulled on his coat, and started toward the door. "I'd better go have a look outside," he said over his shoulder, "but I'll be back in a few minutes." Then he turned back. "Don't give up on me, Jenelli."

"Oh, I won't. You can count on that." Jenelli's green eyes lit up and she smiled at him. "I'll pray for you, Tracy, just like your mother did." Wouldn't it be wonderful if Tracy came to know Jesus!

For the first time since she'd met him, Jenelli saw Tracy smile. "Thank you," he whispered.

* * * * *

"So let me ask you something, Jenelli. That is, if you feel like talking." Tracy was back inside the cabin now.

"Sure?"

"Whoever has been calling you seems to think that Tony had some serious cash stashed somewhere. They think you know about it and could lead them to it."

"Yes, I . . . I guess so."

"Well, did he?"

The direct question startled her. "Did . . . Did Tony have cash stashed away?"

"That's my question." Tracy's eyes now were dark, penetrating.

Jenelli flinched at the troubling question. "I . . . I don't know. What . . . What makes you think . . . .?" Her voice trailed off as she tried to understand how Tracy might think she'd know where Tony had hidden some of his cash.

"Take it easy, Jenelli," Tracy responded. "Sometimes people know more than they think they know. Maybe we could locate that cash, if it exists at all, before your mystery caller does. You could probably use some extra cash right about now."

"Well, yes. Yes, I sure could." Jenelli brightened. "How . . . How would we go about finding it?"

"Think like Tony for a minute," Tracy suggested. "If you were going to stash a briefcase or backpack or shoe box or whatever filled with cash, where would you put it? It's got to be a place where nobody would think to look, yet where Tony could get at it easily without arousing suspicion."

"I . . . I don't know."

Tracy ignored her statement. "There are certain places around the city where people can easily stash things. Let's start with these. There are public lockers in the bus station and at the airport. And every gym has a locker room. What kinds of places did Tony patronize that had a private locker? Maybe a place where the guys looking for that cash wouldn't think to look?"

Jenelli closed her eyes and sat quietly, thinking. What Tracy said about her needing money certainly was true, considering the fact that Tony had cleaned out her personal bank accounts the day before he died. That memory sickened her, but she pushed it aside. Now, where would Tony have stashed cash? "Okay, Tracy," she breathed. "I hear you, and I'm trying to think along those lines."

"Think about his general style of doing things, where he went, what he did, who he saw."

Jenelli tried to relive Tony's days. Finally, she spoke. "I'm going to think out loud for a minute. Tony did belong to a gym, but that was common knowledge and anyone looking for his stash would surely think of a locker there."

"Perhaps so, but we'll check it out for ourselves. Which gym?"

"Jackson's Gym. It was named after Allen Jackson, the professional boxer."

"Yeah, I know that place. It's a possibility." Tracy made notes in his notebook. "Any other places you can think of?"

Suddenly Jenelli's eyes brightened. "Here's a thought. It's a place some people might not know of where Tony just might have stashed some cash."

"Okay. Where's that?"

"Tony was on the Board of Directors of an insurance company, Merchant's Mutual Insurance. The main office building is located over on Court Street. It's around the 1700 block. I don't know the exact address." Jenelli paused. "Here's what I'm thinking. They had a fitness center for their employees, including their directors, and I remember Tony talking about working out there several times. One of his friends worked at Merchant's Mutual, and they worked out together. They'd have had lockers of some sort in that fitness center, wouldn't they?"

"Probably so." Tracy smiled. "Keen thinking, Jenelli. We'll check that out, too. Any other ideas?"

"No. Not at the moment."

"Did Tony have any kind of storage unit, say at the golf course, or maybe just a general rental storage unit. Some place where he kept his golf cart or--"

"Yes! Yes, he did!" Jenelli broke in, excited now. "He belonged to the Highland Golf Club, and he kept his cart and clubs there. They'd have had a locker room, too, where the guys could change clothes."

"Now we're thinking. What about some place nobody would know about except Tony and you?"

"I don't--"

"G-Gr-Growl!" Tracy sprang up at Ben's low growl. His hand darted into his jacket pocket and came out wrapped around his .45 Colt as he moved toward the window. Now he saw what Ben had heard. Car lights were moving up the drive from the highway toward the cabin.

"Somebody's coming. It's probably okay, but I'll go outside and keep an eye on things." With that, Tracy slipped outside the back door and into the nearby shadows behind the pile of wood from which Jim fed his fireplace throughout the colder months.

It was okay. Tracy recognized John Murphy's Ford as the detective parked under the security light in front of the cabin. "Hello, John," he called.

"That you, Tracy?"

"Yes. Come on in." Tracy followed the detective inside.

John looked terribly tired. "You've had a hard day, haven't you?" Jenelli asked. The detective nodded and sat down heavily.

"Want something to eat?"

Again the detective nodded. "Yeah."

"You want me to move your car?" Tracy asked. "I can park it in the storage shed where it'll be out of sight."

"No, that won't be necessary. I won't be here long. I've been meeting with the County Attorney and the FBI and Internal Affairs, and we're continuing into the evening after a short break. I had to get away for a little while to clear my head, so I thought I'd drive out here. Make sure things were all right."

"What's been going on, John,?" Jenelli asked as she got up and went to the kitchen.

The detective sighed and shook his head, then turned to Tracy. "Those MPs you called, oh, brother! What a mess!" His voice trailed off.

"What happened?"

"They got fingerprints off that cut-up doll."

"Yeah?" Tracy's eyes lit up.

"That's not all they got."

"What else?" Both Tracy and Jenelli were listening intently now.

"They got a recording off that voice-mail recording, made a voice-print, and started matching it with some voice-prints they got from television station recordings. Well, what do you know? The voice-prints matched the fingerprints."

"And whose fingerprints are we talking about?" Tracy asked.

John looked at Tracy for a long, long moment before answering: "Richard Claw. He's the Deputy Chief of Police."
CHAPTER 12

"Have you thought of any other place where Tony might have stashed money?" Tracy asked later that night after John left.

Jenelli shook her head. "No. Sorry."

"Somebody seemed to know about the safe in your house. Did Tony keep a lot of cash there?"

"I really didn't know what was in that safe," Jenelli replied, "but I'd guess that Tony did keep at least some cash there. Whoever came in that night sure cleaned it out, all right. From the ease with which they opened it, they almost had to have known the combination."

"Um-hmm. I'd agree. To change the subject, did Tony seem particularly friendly with Richard Claw, the Deputy Chief of Police?"

"Oh, sure. Richard Claw was at our house any number of times. Whenever Tony threw a party, he'd invite the guy. He thought it was cool to have high ranking cops at his parties." Jenelli thought for a moment. "Richard Claw was one of the most obnoxious guys Tony had around, especially after he got a few drinks under his belt. I'm sure he thought he was the life of the party, but to me he was just another fat ol' drunk."

"Would Claw have had the opportunity to watch Tony open that safe?" Tracy questioned.

Jenelli thought for a few moments. "I remember that Tony opened that safe during at least one party when Claw was there. He got something out of the safe to show off. So, yes, I'd guess that Claw watched him open the safe, and he sure could have noted the combination. Tony wouldn't have been on his guard, either, because he'd had a few drinks, and besides, who'd think a cop would come back and try to rob the safe.

"And Tony liked to show off valuable things," Jenelli continued. "He probably got into that safe several times while other people were at the house. People crowded around him when he went to open the safe, too, because they knew he'd have something special to show off. Anyone of them could have noted the combination."

"Was Tony especially friendly with any other important cops?" Tracy asked.

Jenelli sighed. "Tony always invited several cops to his parties. He seemed to know quite a few of them. But as to any others he might have been particularly friendly with, well, I just don't remember their names."

Tracy glanced at his watch. "It's getting late, Jenelli. You can go to bed any time you want to. I'll stay up and keep an eye on things."

Jenelli didn't respond to Tracy's suggestion. She suddenly was lost and brooding in her own dark thoughts. "Maybe I really was at fault," she mused.

"You were at fault, Jenelli? For what?"

"Maybe I . . . Maybe I could have been a better wife to Tony and he wouldn't have gotten into all this mess." A tiny tear slipped from Jenelli's eye and rolled down her cheek. "He . . . He wasn't that way when we were first married, but the more and more money he made, the more he had to have his fancy cars and extravagant parties and his luxuries and . . . ." Another tear rolled down her cheek as the words tumbled out. She retrieved a tissue from her purse and daubed at her eyes. "But . . . But I was faithful to him through it all, even when he wasn't . . . when he wasn't faithful to me." Tears rolled down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away.

"No, Jenelli! You've got to stop that line of thinking right now." Tracy's response was gentle but very firm. "Don't blame yourself. Whatever happened with Tony wasn't your fault."

She looked at Tracy, her green eyes wide. "You . . . You don't think so?"

"No! Absolutely not!" Tracy was emphatic. "It wasn't your fault, not in the least. He was an adult. He made the choices in his life. My guess is he wouldn't have listened to you if you'd have disagreed with him about anything he was doing. He had to do things his way."

"That's . . . That's true." Jenelli shook her head. "I . . . I tried to tell him the hard drinking was wrong, and the gambling, too, but he wouldn't listen. And I prayed for him. Oh, how I prayed for him. And I tried to set a good example for him. I really tried . . . ." The words tumbled out as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

* * * * *

"What do you say we take a drive after I take a short nap?" Tracy asked, after they finished breakfast the following morning.

"Okay." Jenelli smiled. "Want to tell me where we're going?"

"Treasure hunting," Tracy responded, nonchalantly.

Well, Tracy had said he was a doer and not a talker, just like Jim. And, from the grin on his face, Jenelli had to assume he was teasing her. "Treasure hunting? Okay. I'm not sure I know what that means or where we'll be going, but I trust you," she replied. "Do I need to bring along anything special?"

Tracy's eyes softened. "Yourself, and your smile."

Jenelli couldn't help but smile in response. Was Tracy implying that she was special to him? Of course, she'd figured out quickly enough what he probably had in mind. Treasure hunting probably meant looking for the cash Tony was supposed to have stashed somewhere.

Tracy and Jenelli were half way to town when Tracy's cell phone jangled to indicate that a text message had been received. Tracy pulled the Buick off the road, retrieved his phone, and handed it to Jenelli. "What's it say?" he asked.

"ZABTOWREP3420." She read the letters and numbers, then handed the phone back to Tracy. "What's all that mean?"

"It's code. It's from Jim."

"Oh, my! Oh, my! From Jim! It's . . . It's code!" Jenelli exclaimed. "What's . . . What's it all mean?"

"Well, for one thing, he's still alive. And his work is progressing okay."

"When will he . . . Does it tell you when he'll be back?"

"No," Tracy replied. "He'll let us know later. If I had to guess, he'll be back late tomorrow, or maybe the following day."

Although Jenelli couldn't say it aloud, she was almost bursting with joy at the thought of Jim returning–to her. Oh, that scared her just a little, or maybe a lot, because she didn't know if he could accept her, if he would want her like she wanted him. Dear God, she prayed silently, please bring Jim safely home–to me!

Tracy drove in silence for several moments before he spoke. "We're going to check out the Highland Golf Club lockers first. You'll be the grieving widow, just there to clean out Tony's locker and see what the status of his golf cart storage is. We'll pay any bills he owes. Beyond that, we'll have to play it by ear, but hey! You're a great actress, aren't you?"

"I . . . I--"

"It's not that we're trying to fool anyone," Tracy interrupted, "but we don't want somebody to see you carrying off a bag of cash. Golf clubs, yes. Change of Tony's clothes, yes. Bag of cash, no! You have to realize that the best way to protect yourself from predators is to keep what you do as quiet as possible. If nobody knows you've got the cash, nobody will come looking for it. It's as simple as that."

"Will the Golf Club be open this time of year?" Jenelli had never played golf, so she wasn't sure. "I mean," she explained her reasoning, "it's too cold to play golf, isn't it?"

"The course itself will probably be closed," Tracy responded to her concern, "but I believe they maintain an indoor facility so people can practice in the winter, and the club house itself will be open. There'll be an attendant around. We'll check in with him."

"What will we do with the cash if we do find it? I mean, for safekeeping."

"That's an easy question. For the time being, at least, we'll stash it in Jim's bank–in the vault. It'll be safe there. George Henry and I will see to that. We can put some of it in a checking account for you to use, but for the time being we'll keep the bulk of it out of sight."

"Out of sight? Oh, you mean so that nobody will know I've got it, right?"

"Right. We'll let the Tony Paterson gambling debt thing calm down. In fact, we'll get the bank's attorney to set things up so nobody can touch funds in your personal account to satisfy Tony's debts."

Jenelli nodded her understanding. Tracy obviously had the answers to many things that were haunting her. "That would be good. Oh, Tracy?"

"Yes?"

"You mentioned George Henry. Is he Jim's bank manager?"

"Yes."

"I met him once. Him and his wife." Jenelli thought a few moments. "I think her name is Kay. Am I right?"

"Yes. Where did you meet them?"

"After Tony purchased the great big house where we lived, he just had to show it off," Jenelli explained. "We had party after party after party. At least that was how it seemed to me. For one of those parties, we invited banking professionals from around the area. George and his wife came for a short while." Jenelli suddenly laughed out loud as she remembered the party. "I don't think either George or Kay were very impressed with the house, or with Tony, for that matter."

"No, I don't reckon they would be," Tracy responded. "They actually live quite simply and aren't one bit pretentious."

"That's the impression I got when I met them. They were the only people at the party who weren't dressed to the hilt. They were pleasant and friendly, but they didn't go out of their way to impress people."

Tracy nodded. "I can believe that. George usually wears western shirts and slacks without a tie or jacket and Kay, well, she shows up in jeans and denim shirts a good share of the time. It's rather amusing, because they've done very well financially and could afford to wear the finest clothes and live like kings, but they don't."

Jenelli was silent for a moment. "You know what really impressed me about George and Kay Henry?"

"No. What's that?"

"They simply weren't impressed with our material things. Oh, like I said, they were pleasant and they congratulated Tony and me on the nice house and all, but I could tell that it would take more than spending a lot of money to impress them. Actually, the thing that impressed me most was what I saw of their character."

"Their character? What do you mean?"

"It's hard to describe without sounding prudish, but neither of them seemed interested in the booze," Jenelli reflected on Tracy's question. "I mean, by ten o'clock or so, when George and Kay left, Tony was drunk and really whooping it up. So was that fat cop. And neither George or Kay seemed at all interested in the jokes that were being told, most of which were raunchy. Oh, Tracy, I don't know what I'm trying to say, except that I thought they were the only decent people at that party."

"They're decent people, all right. You'll have a chance to get better acquainted with them. But, hey, Jenelli! Right now, we've got a treasure to locate."

* * * * *

The visit to the Highland Golf Club yielded Tony's set of golf clubs and the expensive bag in which he carried them–and that was all. His locker was empty except for the clubs and Tony's golf shoes, and the young club-house attendant told Jenelli that Tony had sold his golf cart some time ago. "That cart was the best you can buy, and it had all the luxury features," the attendant assured them. "I sure wish I could have bought it, but there was no way I could have afforded it."

"You don't recall who did buy it, do you?" Jenelli asked.

"As a matter of fact, I do. A guy by the name of Richard Claw bought it. I'm not sure, but I think he's a cop. He was out here at the club some with Mr. Paterson." The attendant thought a moment, then continued. "You know, I never knew exactly what Mr. Claw paid for that cart, but I heard some of the guys saying that he got a real bargain. Like maybe Mr. Paterson actually gave it to him. Well, there were stories to that effect. I don't really know, so I probably shouldn't have said anything."

Tracy carried the golf clubs out to the Buick and locked them in the trunk. "Those clubs were custom made for Tony. Are they worth anything?" Jenelli asked once they were driving away.

"I don't know anything about the value of the clubs. We'll have to check with a golf pro, or maybe with the company that made them." Jenelli saw that Tracy was checking the rear-view mirror as he spoke.

"Is . . . Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No, it's just that hearing Richard Claw's name again makes me extra cautious. I hope that attendant didn't call him the moment we left. Anyway, I'm just trying to make sure we aren't being followed."

Once Tracy was assured that they weren't being followed, he pulled off the street and into a convenience store parking lot. "Sit tight, Jenelli," he told her. "I'm going to use the phone."

Jenelli looked around but didn't see the phone anywhere. The thought of Tracy leaving her alone there in that parking lot sparked panic. "You . . . You won't leave me alone here, will you, Tracy? Where's the . . . Where is the phone, anyway?" she gasped.

"Easy, Jenelli." Tracy put his hand on hers. "The phone is right over there." He pointed out the location of the phone. "I'll keep an eye on you all the time I'm using it. Won't take my eyes off of you, I promise."

Once Tracy was back in the Buick, Jenelli seemed to brighten. "Where are we going now?" she asked.

"Crosstown. We're going to meet some people who'll help us look over those golf clubs."

"Look over those golf clubs? Why? They were custom made for Tony. I doubt that anyone else would want them." Jenelli was puzzled.

"Sit tight, Jenelli."

She laughed. "Okay, Tracy. You're full of surprises today, so I'll just wait and see what you've got up your sleeve."

Tracy drove conservatively, keeping an eye on the rear-view mirror and occasionally driving around a block or two just to check to see if anyone might be following them. There didn't appear to be, but Tracy wasn't about to take chances, now that he knew that one of the top cops in the city was behind Jenelli's most recent hassles. Who knew what other cops might be involved?

On the far side of town, Tracy pulled the Buick into the parking lot of a small mall. As he turned into the parking lot, he passed the yellow delivery van that had been parked out near Jenelli's house the day before. The man sitting in that van would watch to see if anyone tailed them into the parking area.

Tracy drove through the parking lot, checking things out for himself, then, satisfied that no one was tailing them, circled around and parked beside the delivery van.

The moment Tracy parked the Buick beside the van, its side door opened. "Climb on in there and introduce yourself. Everything's cool. Don't be afraid," Tracy told Jenelli. "I'll bring the clubs."

As Jenelli stepped from the Buick, a man she remembered from his having attended one of Tony's parties stepped from the van to greet her and extended his hand. "Hi, Jenelli, do you remember me?" he asked.

"Mr. Henry. George Henry? Am I right?"

"Yes. It's nice to see you again, Jenelli. Please call me 'George,' okay?"

"Yes, if you'll call me 'Jenelli.'" They shook hands.

"Come on inside," George invited. He took her hand and steadied her as Jenelli followed him inside the van. They sat in the second row of seats. "The fellow up there in the driver's seat is Billy Burket," George continued. "He's watching out for anyone who might not like what we're doing here."

"Hi, Billy." Jenelli greeted the driver.

Billy Burket did not turn his head but his dark eyes briefly met her's in the rear-view mirror. "Hi, Jenelli. My pleasure to meet you." It was only later that she noticed that there was a large pistol on the van's console, next to Billy's huge right hand.

"I'm curious. Tracy drove me here to meet with you, but I don't know exactly why. What are we doing?" Jenelli asked.

George chuckled. "Tracy didn't tell you, did he?"

"No. He said we were going to look over Tony's golf clubs, but it seems to me that we must be going to do more than that if it involves you."

"We'll soon know what's on his mind," George responded, a faint smile flickering across his face as he spoke. "Here he comes."

Tracy climbed into the front seat. He had removed the clubs from the bag and now was carrying only the golf club bag. "It's funny what some guys will stuff into their golf bag," he said without further ado. "Take a look for yourself." With that, he passed the bag to Jenelli.

"Um? Okay. Where do I look? And for what?"

"Unbutton the flap there on the side of the bag and take a look inside. You'll see."

"Okay." Jenelli opened the flap, pulled the pocket open, and looked inside. "Oh, my! Oh, my!" she gasped. Her hands were shaking so hard she almost dropped the bag. Thank you, dear Jesus, she breathed. Thank you, Jesus.
CHAPTER 13

"How did you know there was cash stuffed into the side pocket on that golf bag?" Jenelli quizzed Tracy as he drove her back to Jim's cabin later that day. The thought that there might be money hidden in that golf bag had never occurred to her, yet somehow Tracy had easily spotted the "hidden treasure," as he'd called it.

They had sent the cash to the bank with George Henry for safe keeping. He'd later let Jenelli know that there had been almost $10,000 in coins and currency stuffed in that golf bag. They'd get a checking account set up with some of it so Jenelli could have access to it, but temporarily keep the rest in the vault, well hidden from Tony's creditors.

Tracy chuckled in response to Jenelli's question. "I used to play a little golf," he explained, "and I have a fairly good idea of what a golf bag should weigh. Tony's bag was heavier than it should have been, even with the fancy clubs. When I felt that pocket, I knew something was in there. What else but cash could it have been?"

"But you were so . . . so cool. You didn't let on about having discovered that cash or . . . or anything. You . . . You just slung that bag over your shoulder and . . . and walked right on out. And . . . And you teased me about being a great actress! You're the great actor! You should get an award for that performance!" Jenelli was giggling in spite of herself.

Tracy laughed. "That's the first time anybody told me I was a great actor!"

"Tracy! Tracy! Tracy!" Jenelli exclaimed, suddenly serious. "You surely were sent from God to help me. If I ever had any doubts about God's goodness, I don't now. And I sure do thank you for being so kind to me."

"Well, Jim told me to take good care of you. I'm just doing my job." Tracy chuckled.

"You have been so good to me." Jenelli's green eyes sparkled with thanks. "I can't thank you enough. And George and that other fellow, too. What was his name?"

"The guy who was driving the van and keeping watch for us?"

"Yes."

"His name is Billy Burket. He works with me," Tracy replied.

"Bank security?"

"Yes. Well, security in general," Tracy explained. "Billy actually spends more time securing some of the other businesses than he does with the bank."

"I didn't get a chance to talk to him. I hope he doesn't think I'm a . . . a snob or . . . or something."

"No, he won't think anything like that," Tracy told Jenelli. "He didn't want to talk right then anyway, because he was focused on keeping us safe."

"Did you know him in the service?"

"Yes. He's an ex-Army Ranger. You couldn't tell it from the way he gets around, but he has an artificial leg. Spent a lot of time in hospitals, same as I did. Went to work with me just as soon as he was discharged."

"He . . . He lost a leg in . . . in combat?"

Tracy nodded. "Yes. He was some place in Africa that nobody around here has ever heard of when it happened."

* * * * *

Tracy's cell phone jangled just as he and Jenelli were walking into Jim's cabin later that day. "It's another text message," he told her as he scanned the readout: "YABTOWREQ3420."

"From Jim?"

"Yes. He's getting things wrapped up and beginning to think about coming home."

"When?" Jenelli could hardly contain her excitement, hoping her enthusiasm did not make Tracy think she hadn't appreciated his company.

"Tomorrow. We'll be able to pick him up tomorrow afternoon. He'll give us a time when he knows." Tracy paused, then continued. "Actually, this was a very short trip for him. He's usually gone at least a week. Sometimes longer."

Thank you! Oh, thank you, Jesus! Jenelli breathed. Thank you for watching over Jim. Please see him safely home. She turned to Tracy. "I'll fix something for us to eat, okay?"

"Sounds great. Ummm. Mind if I watch?"

"Watch me cook? Sure. I don't mind." She'd take it as a superb compliment.

Tracy sat quietly for a few minutes, watching Jenelli prepare their dinner. "Jenelli?" he began.

"Yes?"

"You really do believe that God watches over us, don't you?"

"I sure do." When Tracy didn't respond after a few moments, she continued. "See how God worked both in your life and mine. He sent Jim to help you, and then He sent Jim to help me. But you also were available to help me because of Jim–and I believe all that was God's doing. In fact, when I was a child, I learned a verse in the Bible, Romans 8:28, that tells us that 'things work together for good to those who love God.'"

Tracy was silent for a few moments. "My mom was a Christian," he began, speaking softly. "She used to see patterns in things like that, too. She said God loved each and every one of us, that he wanted us to live for him, and that living for him included helping others."

"I'd certainly agree with your mother."

"Mom used to say that in order to live for God you had to become a Christian, that just doing good deeds didn't count toward going to Heaven."

"Yes, I'd agree," Jenelli replied, "but it's easy to become a Christian. Well, not exactly easy, but not difficult either." Please help Tracy understand, Jenelli prayed silently.

"So how do I become a Christian?"

It was the question Jenelli had prayed Tracy would ask, and she was prepared to answer it. "You have to acknowledge that you have sinned and ask God to forgive you. He'll do that the moment you ask Him to."

"I can understand that. And then what?"

"That's basically it. Once you've ask God's forgiveness for your sins, you can put your trust in him. That's what it means to accept Jesus as Savior. You can talk with him at any time, and study the Bible to learn more about him."

"G-Gr-Growl!" Ben had scrambled inside the cabin through the small access door that opened into a fenced area at the back of the cabin and now stood growling softly, his ears alert, near the front door. He'd heard something. An intruder near by, perhaps.

Tracy jumped up from his chair, slipped his gun from his pocket, and hurried to see what Ben was warning them about. A glance out the window assured him that it was okay. "It's okay, Ben. Good dog!" He patted the big white dog.

"Who or what is it?" Jenelli called. How she wished she could have had just a few more minutes to share Jesus with Tracy. That was the way the devil worked, though. He'd hinder and delay a person's salvation as long as he could–forever, if that was possible. Well, the devil wasn't going to get Tracy. Not if she had anything to say about it. And Jenelli knew that God would be on her side in her efforts to lead Tracy to Jesus.

"John Murphy's just pulling in." Tracy chuckled. "He's getting out of his car, and he looks hungry."

"Okay. I'll fix some extra food," Jenelli responded. Preparing food for appreciative people was a relatively new experience for her because she hadn't had much of an opportunity to actually cook for Tony. He'd wanted to eat out almost every meal. Of course, that was because he wanted to be seen in the most expensive restaurants, to let everyone know that money was no object to him.

Oh, why? Why? Why did she always have to compare her experiences with Jim and Tracy and John with her experiences with Tony? Of course, she knew the answer. These guys took care of her in ways Tony and his friends never had.

* * * * *

"How's the business with Richard Claw?" Tracy asked the detective, once the three had finished eating but still were seated at the kitchen table.

"He's in deep, deep trouble," John replied. "After the FBI talked at length with him and showed him the voice-matchups, he confessed to making the threatening calls to Jenelli." The detective shrugged. "What else could he do, considering the evidence they had? Along with that," John continued, "he confessed to planting the dismembered Barbie doll you guys found. Of course, he says he doesn't know anything about Tony's death. He acts as if he's the innocent victim of Tony's gambling schemes. Actually, he would probably have been released except for one thing."

"What's that?" Tracy asked.

"They found Alycia's missing shoe under the seat of his car."

"So he's the kidnapper!" Jenelli exclaimed.

"It sure looks that way. He had a part in the kidnapping, anyway."

"How can an experienced cop make those kinds of stupid errors, leaving fingerprints, overlooking the little girl's shoe in his car, things like that?" Jenelli asked, puzzled.

"I'd guess that his terrible anger clouded his judgment," John replied. "Then again, he never figured on those MPs getting involved."

"Is he in jail?" Tracy asked.

"Yes, for now, anyway. His attorney wants the judge to set bail, but the County Attorney argued that Richard Claw would run away if he were set free."

"Did he implicate another cop?"

"Another cop?" the detective questioned. "I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

"The stories going around suggest that Tony gambled away the life savings of at least two cops. Got them to take out mortgages on their houses. Cash in their insurance policies. Things like that."

"It sure could be, but I don't think Richard Claw has admitted to knowing anything about another cop being involved with his or Tony's gambling."

"Can't Internal Affairs look into a cop's finances?" Jenelli questioned.

"Yes, and they have been," John replied. "Internal Affairs already had discovered that Richard Claw's finances were in shambles. He'd taken out a second mortgage on his house, and he's way behind in his payments. They knew all that. Worse than that, though, they found that he had sticky fingers in the evidence room."

"How so?"

"He's been stealing drugs and other stuff from the evidence room and selling them on the street, probably to get the cash to support his and Tony's gambling habits," John explained. "His habits apparently have jeopardized the prosecution of several cases."

"But we still don't have a second cop?" Tracy mused. "Not one that's been named, anyway?"

"No. Not that I know of."

Tracy was almost certain they'd find that another cop was involved in Tony's gambling disaster. Sometimes the cops were awfully slow on the uptake, but he couldn't afford to be if he were to do his job of protecting Jenelli. "Are you staying here tonight, John?" Tracy immediately switched the subject.

"Yes, I think so. I'd like to, anyway, if it's okay. I'm so tired, I need to get some rest. I'll sit in the recliner."

"Okay, then. In view of what's been happening, I'd better keep watch tonight from the outside." Tracy got up from the table and shrugged into his coat, then retrieved Jim's night-vision binoculars and night-scoped rifle. Just as he was about to walk out the door, Jenelli came to him and put her hand on his arm. "I'm still praying for you, Tracy," she told him.

Tracy smiled at her. "Thanks. We've got to continue that conversation we started, and we will. I want to know more."

Thank you, Jesus. "Tomorrow?"

Tracy nodded. "Yes, tomorrow. I'll look forward to that." He hesitated for a moment, then added. "There's something else we need to do tomorrow, too."

"What's that?"

"We need to find the rest of Tony's stash."

"Oh! I'd almost forgotten about that money we found. Do you really think there's more?"

"Can't say for sure. We'll see what we can find."

Jenelli clutched at his hand, wishing she didn't have to let Tracy go. "You have been so good to me!" she whispered.

* * * * *

Tracy quietly followed the path that Jim had taken a few nights ago to the vantage point behind and above the cabin. If there had been another cop involved with Tony Paterson and Richard Claw as Tracy was almost certain there was, that cop might well take it upon himself to get rid of Jenelli. Maybe John as well. And by now it would be no mystery to anyone where Jenelli was living. With those thoughts in mind, Tracy placed a call to Billy Burket.

* * * * *

Headlights! There were headlights in the distance. Tracy glanced at his watch. It was two o'clock in the morning, dark and cloudy. Almost no moonlight. Few people traveled that highway at this hour. At least, few people with good intentions. The lights in Jim's cabin had all been extinguished hours ago.

As the vehicle drew nearer to the turn-off to Jim's cabin, the driver turned off its headlights, now using only the parking lights to illuminate the highway. Tracy followed the vehicle's progress with the night-vision binoculars as it went past the turn-off to Jim's cabin. Moving very slowly. No doubt, someone was looking things over. And then it stopped completely--far enough out so it wouldn't have activated any of Jim's surveillence equipment. Somebody was looking things over.

Tracy couldn't see the vehicle now. It was behind a grove of trees. There now were no lights at all. He had to assume it had stopped, although it was out of his line of sight.

What was that movement near the garage? Oh, yes. That had to be Billy. He'd come onto the property by another entrance. Maybe he'd tailed that other car out this way.

Tracy scanned the area between the highway and Jim's cabin. There! Near the highway! There was movement! Human movement! Now he could clearly see a figure cautiously approaching the cabin. "He's coming from the highway toward the cabin," Tracy whispered into his radio. He then gave Billy the intruder's approximate location.

The red light on his radio lit up. Blinked code. Billy had received the message.

Tracy couldn't see Billy anywhere, but he knew he was there. They'd worked together in the service. Worked together well. Billy was the best there was.

The intruder now was making a bee-line for the cabin. He appeared to be carrying something in a can. A can like you'd use to fill a lawn mower's gasoline tank. No doubt that can was filled with gasoline? This guy must be planning arson. Arson and murder. Tracy wasn't surprised.

A shadowy figure was behind the intruder now. Closing fast. Voices! THUD! Silence. Then Billy's whisper came over Tracy's radio. "Come on down, Tracy. I've got him."

Ben would be growling something fierce by now. Tracy had better let Jenelli and John know what was going on so they wouldn't panic. Having done that, Tracy gathered his gear and climbed down the path he'd climbed earlier in the evening. The intruder wouldn't be going anywhere. Not with Billy on the job.

John and Jenelli hurriedly joined Tracy outside at the corner of the cabin where they found a man lying flat on his back at Billy's feet, a can of gasoline and other paraphernalia scattered to his side. The man was breathing, but he was out cold. "What happened?" Tracy asked.

Billy chuckled heartedly. "Instead of stopping in his tracks like I politely asked him to, he dropped the gasoline can he was carrying and took a swing at me while he went for his gun."

Taking a swing at Billy Burket was, of course, a monumental mistake. Billy had been one of the best boxers in his weight class when he was in the service, had even won matches with guys who outweighed him by 50 pounds. Even though Billy now had an artificial leg, the intruder had been no match for him.

"Oh, yeah," Billy continued. "He had this pistol in his jacket pocket. Here it is." He handed the gun he'd confiscated to John. "And I checked him for a hideout weapon. There wasn't one."

"You recognize him?" Tracy asked John.

"Yep," the detective responded, "and I'm going to call the FBI right away. That's Terry Freemont. He's been an assistant to Richard Claw.
CHAPTER 14

"Let's go for a drive," Tracy invited, after he and Jenelli finished breakfast.

"Okay. Just as soon as I check in on Alycia." Jenelli replied.

Jenelli called the hospital, just as she had several times a day since Jim and Ben had found the little girl. Assured that Alycia was doing nicely and would be released in another day or so, Jenelli turned to Tracy. "Where are we going today?"

"Treasure hunting." Tracy teased.

Jenelli grinned, and sighed. Tracy would tell her what she needed to know when the time was right. For that, she trusted Tracy.

They drove directly to Jackson's Gym, managed to find a nearby parking space, and went inside. Tony indeed had maintained a locker there, but when the attendant opened it for them, they found it to be completely empty.

Tracy looked at Jenelli. "Tony's locker is empty. Isn't that rather odd?"

"It sure is," Jenelli replied. "Tony always kept a change of gym clothes here along with a pair of athletic shoes. He told me that. Said it saved him from having to bring things with him every time he came to the gym."

The attendant shuffled his feet and looked at the floor, clearly embarrassed. "Some guy came in a few days ago, claimed he was a business associate of Mr. Paterson's," he told them. "Said he was acting on behalf of Mrs. Paterson. Showed me some papers to that effect. He's the one who cleaned out that locker."

"Papers?" Tracy turned to Jenelli. "Did you sign any papers giving someone authorization to clean out Tony's locker?"

"No. Absolutely not!"

The attendant flushed and looked thoroughly embarrassed. "Er . . . Sorry . . . Sorry if . . . if I did . . . did something wrong," he stammered.

"Hmmm? Did this guy give you a name?"

"Yes, but . . . but I . . . I forgot what he said his name was." The attendant hung his head.

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

"Medium height. Ummm. Short dark hair. Dark eyes. Oh, man do I . . . do I ever remember those eyes. They . . . They went right through me. Scared me, really. Seemed like he was . . . was used to . . . to telling people what to do."

"I see. What else do you remember about him?" Tracy asked.

"I . . . I don't know. Nothing I can think of."

"Any scars or tattoos you could see?"

The attendant thought a few moments, then looked up at Tracy. "No, I don't remember any scars or tattoos."

"How was he dressed?"

"Dark suit, white shirt, and tie. Dress shoes. I remember his shoes."

Tracy retrieved his cell phone, dialed John Murphy, and described the situation at Jackson's Gym. "Can you bring us photographs of Richard Claw and Terry Freemont?" he asked.

"Not for a while," John replied. "I'm meeting with the County Attorney right now."

"Can you provide photographs right away if I send Billy Burket to get them?"

"Sure. I'm at the County Attorney's office. Billy knows where that is. I'll get photographs copied right away and leave them for him with the receptionist."

"Okay." Within ten minutes, Billy Burket was on his way to the County Attorney's office. Half an hour later, the photographs were in Tracy's hands.

The attendant took one look at the photographs and quickly identified Terry Freemont as the man who had cleaned out Tony's locker. Tracy immediately called that information in to John Murphy.

By the time Tracy and Jenelli left Jackson's Gym, it was time for lunch. Merchant's Mutual Insurance Company would have to wait a little while.

It was while they were eating lunch that yet another text message from Jim came in on Tracy's phone: "XBQ3420."

"Jim's on his way," Tracy informed Jenelli. "He's due in for us to pick him up later this evening. He'll let us know his exact time of arrival when he's closer.

Jenelli was elated, yet troubled by something. Tracy had been interested in learning how a person becomes a Christian and she had not yet had the opportunity to pursue that question. Once Jim was home, she and Tracy might not have a ready opportunity to talk. As they walked to Tracy's car, she knew that this might be her best chance. Maybe her last chance for a while. Make it be the right time, Jesus, she breathed the prayer, then turned to Tracy. "Tracy?"

"Yes?"

"We talked about how a person becomes a Christian, but we never got to finish that conversation."

"Yes, I know."

"Is now a good time for us to talk?"

"Yes, and I do remember what you said earlier. You said that a person has to acknowledge that he has sinned and ask God's forgiveness for that sin."

"That's right.'

They faced each other in the front seat of Tracy's Buick. "What then?" he asked.

Jenelli reached into her purse for the small New Testament she kept there, opened it to Romans 10:9, and held it so Tracy could follow. "Follow along with me," she said.

"Okay."

"If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved," Jenelli read the verse.

"So I just have to trust in Jesus to save me?"

"That's right. And if you want to be saved, we'll just take care of that right now. I'll say a prayer to that effect and you repeat it after me, phrase by phrase. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready."

"Dear Jesus," Jenelli began.

"Dear Jesus."

"I know that I am a sinner."

"I know that I am a sinner."

"I know that you love me."

"I know that you love me."

Jenelli continued with the prayer that would lead Tracy to Jesus. Tracy repeated the prayer word for word, following Jenelli's words. "If you meant what you said, you're a Christian now, Tracy," Jenelli said.

"Thank you," Tracy replied. "Is . . . Is that all there is to it?"

"Yes, you're a Christian and on your way to Heaven now, but I do have some suggestions for you."

"Okay."

"You need to do two things. First, you need to start attending a church where you'll hear more about Jesus and his work here on earth. I'll help you find a church. Second, you need to start reading the Bible for yourself. Do you have one?"

"No."

"Here." Jenelli handed him her pocket-sized New Testament. "You can have this one to read until you get a Bible of your own. The New Testament is where you'll want to start reading, and as I suggested, you'll want a church home with a pastor you like so you can ask questions of him or her. Of course, you're welcome to ask me, but a pastor will be able to help you understand things in the Bible better than I can.

"But there's one other thing I wanted to say," Jenelli continued. "Well, two things, actually." Jenelli smiled warmly. "There's a verse in the Bible I want you to see." She opened the New Testament to Luke 15:10. See, the Bible says that the angels in Heaven rejoice when a person becomes a Christian, so they're rejoicing right now over your having become a Christian." They read the verse together. "The angels in Heaven are rejoicing, and I'm rejoicing, too, Tracy. I'm so happy for you. The second thing I want to share with you is to assure you that you'll be able to see your mother again one of these days–in Heaven. I'm sure that she's rejoicing with the angels even now. And . . . And Tracy, now that you're a Christian, I'd like for you to do something for me."

"Um-hmm?"

"Please pray for Jim," Jenelli replied. "He told me he used to be a Christian, that he turned his back on God when Crystal was killed. He needs to come back to Jesus. In Matthew 18:19, the Bible says that if two of us agree on something and ask God for it, it shall be done for us by our Heavenly Father, and I do so want Jim to be in fellowship with us–in Jesus."

* * * * *

Treasure hunting would have to wait. It was time for Jenelli and Tracy to pick up Jim. As they drove to the airport where his helicopter would land, Jenelli sensed a special warmth between herself and Tracy that hadn't been there before–the warmth of God's love that Tracy now had in his heart.

Jim climbed down out of that helicopter and retrieved three bags, a small suitcase and two duffle bags. Jenelli thought he was the most ruggedly handsome man she'd ever seen as she and Tracy walked to meet him. Tracy took the two duffle bags from him and Jenelli threw her arms around him. "Oh, Jim, I'm so glad you're back!" she exclaimed. He was just so handsome!

"Thanks." Jim actually hugged her back, holding her close to him for a long moment. She was so beautiful! "It's good to be back."

They loaded Jim's suitcase and one of the duffle bags into the trunk. Jim climbed into the back seat with the second duffle bag.

"Where to?" Tracy asked, once Jim was in the Buick with them.

"Wherever you arranged to meet George Henry. That's what we need to do first."

"Okay."

Jenelli smiled to herself. She hadn't known that Tracy had made arrangements to take Jim to meet George Henry upon his return, but that didn't surprise her as much as it might have a few days ago. As Tracy had told her, he and Jim were doers and not talkers. She'd come to accept that.

George and Kay Henry were waiting in their Jeep in the mall parking lot where Jim usually met them. Both came over to Tracy's Buick and climbed into the back seat with Jim as soon as Tracy parked beside them. "Welcome home, Jim!" George exclaimed by way of greeting and Kay echoed him, "Yes! Welcome home!" The three shook hands.

"Tracy's kept me up to date on a lot of the things that have been going on," Jim told George, "but I've just got to ask right off how things are going with your mine."

"Wonderful!" Kay exclaimed. Her face radiated her pleasure and delight.

"Yep." George grinned as he echoed Kay's sentiments. "We've got a contract with that company you recommended. They'll start mining just as soon as they get the equipment moved in and set up. They've already cleared a road into the mine site, and they'll begin moving equipment in tomorrow."

"Great!"

Kay was exuberant. "We're looking forward to taking you out there again real soon, Jim!"

"And I'm looking forward to going," Jim replied, "but right now I'd better let you go so I can catch up on some sleep. Hope it's okay if I borrow Tracy for another night or so."

"Sure."

"Tracy told you I was bringing something for you, didn't he?"

"Yep. Can't wait to see what it is," George replied, anticipation in his voice.

Jim hoisted the duffle bag that he'd brought with him from the car floor to his lap. "Well, here's what I brought to you. There are enough rocks in here for each of you to have several."

"Can I look?" Kay asked, her brown eyes now wide with excitement.

"Sure. There are some rocks in there for you, too."

Kay hurriedly unzipped the bag and looked inside, then gasped at what she saw. "Wow! Did you see what's in here, George?"

"Whew! I sure did."

Kay put her hand into the bag and pulled out what appeared to be an irregularly shaped rock. It was the same kind of rock Jenelli had seen on Jim's desk back at his cabin. "That's going to be a beauty!" Kay exclaimed, her eyes seemingly even brighter with excitement and pleasure as she examined the uncut diamond. She turned to George. "Once these are cut, you'll be able to make the most beautiful jewelry ever!" She turned to Jim. "Those are absolutely beautiful, Jim, and . . . and all I can think of to say is . . . is 'thank you.'"

Jim smiled. "You're welcome." He loved these people. Their happiness was all the thanks he needed.

* * * * *

Tracy again stood guard outside Jim's cabin while Jenelli stayed inside and Jim slept in the storage shed bedroom. Unlike the previous night, this one proved peaceful. Tracy wondered just how long things would stay that way.

It was late the next morning when Jim awoke and made his way to the cabin where Jenelli and Tracy had breakfast ready. "I just talked to the hospital," Jenelli excitedly told him, "and they tell me I can take Alycia home this afternoon."

"That's great."

"Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

"Will we be intruding too much if I bring Alycia here for a few days? Until we can make some other arrangements?"

"No." He turned to Tracy. "After you get some rest, I'd like for you to do a threat assessment for Jenelli and Alycia. See what you think the chances are that someone will attack them here tonight. See if you think it warrants either you or Billy or both of you keeping watch yet another night."

"Okay. I'll do that."

"How . . . How will you find out if we're still in danger?" Jenelli broke in. Jim sensed that her voice was strained. She had a right to be spooked.

"We can't know with absolute certainty," Tracy replied, "but I'll check in with John and the others who can give me some ideas about what Richard Claw and Terry Freemont are up to. I'll also check with the MPs who came over to your house to get their take on things. And we'll err on the side of extra protection if we have to err."

"Oh! I see," Jenelli responded. "And Tracy, there's something else that troubles me."

"What's that?"

"We thought that cops might have been involved with Tony's gambling disaster, and so far we've found two of them. But, Tracy, didn't you say that someone with connections to the mob also was watching my house?"

"Yes, there was. We gave that license plate number to the FBI. They think the vehicle's owner represents one of the gambling syndicates that is going after Tony's estate, trying to collect on his unpaid debts through the court system. He probably was looking at the house with an eye to its value. Making sure you or someone else didn't move anything of value out of the house. At any rate, the FBI is keeping an eye on him. They don't think that you're in any particular physical danger from the mob, not right now, anyway. That's the best I can answer that question with what we know now."

Jenelli sighed. "I'm sure giving you guys a lot of trouble and, believe me, I'm sure glad that you're here for me."

"You're welcome," Jim replied, then asked, "What will you have to do to get ready to bring Alycia home?"

Had Jim really said, "bring Alycia home?" Of course, he had. Maybe he hadn't calculated just how that would sound, but it was music to Jenelli's ears. Yes, she'd like to bring Alycia home, home being right here to Jim's cabin. "I'd like to go to my house and get some of her things," she replied, in response to his question. "Ummm, Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

"Will you drive me to my house. I want you to see where those guys left that terrible warning, that . . . that awful doll. Tracy really saved my life that day, just by being there with me, and by calling those MPs. They're the ones who really identified Richard Claw as the man who was after me."

"Yes, I'll drive you to your house. Tracy will be busy for a little while, anyway. And you'll want to go to the grocery store to get things Alycia can eat, right?"

"Yes."

Jim turned to Tracy. "Do you think we're safe in going to Jenelli's house?"

"No. Not completely. I'll call Billy and ask him to keep an eye on the house until after you're out of there. And Jim, take my car. I'll stay here and keep an eye on things until you get back."

"Okay. Take my pickup if you have to leave."

* * * * *

Once in Tracy's Buick with Jim, Jenelli grabbed his hand and leaned her head affectionately against his shoulder. "Oh, Jim," she breathed, "I'm so glad you're back with me. I know I've caused you a lot of trouble, and I thank God every day for sending you and Tracy and the others who have been looking out for me. So, once again, 'thank you.'"

"You're welcome." It wasn't the greatest reply, but it was the best Jim could come up with at the moment.

She looked up into Jim's face. "I'm not supposed to ask you about your trip, am I?"

"No. I can't talk about it."

"Well then," Jenelli whispered, "I'll just say it again, I'm so very glad you're back."

* * * * *

The yellow delivery van that Billy Burket often drove was parked across and down the street from Jenelli's house. A quick exchange on Jim's radio acknowledged Billy's presence and the fact that he hadn't seen anything going on since he arrived a short while ago. "I've checked the neighborhood for vehicles and didn't see anything that looked unusual, but I've only been watching the house for the past twenty minutes or so," he told Jim, "so you be careful in there."

With that tentative reassurance, Jim pulled the Buick into Jenelli's drive. "Even though Billy hasn't seen anything going on since he got here," Jim said, "I'm going to do a complete walk-through of your house. Billy will keep an eye on you and things outside."

Jenelli wasn't at all sure that was necessary. After all, weren't the two guys suspected of causing her all this trouble already in custody? Still, she knew better than to argue with Jim, and he was looking after her in the best way that he knew how.

* * * * *

"Whatdayamean, they let 'em out?" John Murphy almost shouted into the receiver.

"I thought you'd better be informed," the FBI agent on the phone explained. "The judge granted bail for both Richard Claw and Terry Freemont. They're out."

"When?"

"Last night for Richard Claw. This morning for Terry Freemont."

John immediately dialed Jim's phone at the cabin. There was no answer. After leaving a voice-message, he dialed Jim's cell phone. Again, he was forced to leave a message because Jim's cell phone was turned off. Finally, he reached Tracy with the unexpected and unsettling news. "Where are Jim and Jenelli, anyway?" he asked, after relaying the message.

"On their way over to Jenelli's house."
CHAPTER 15

Jim checked the Colt in his jacket pocket, then unlocked and entered the front door of Jenelli's house, leaving her to wait outside in the car. After quietly closing the door behind him, he listened intently for any sounds of human activity within the house. There were none.

He walked through the main floor and then the basement, cautiously looking into each room and behind each door. Then, as he approached the hallway closet on the second floor, he caught a slight flicker of movement in the bathroom mirror across the hall. As he turned toward the bathroom and reached for his Colt, the closet door flew open and a voice growled, "Get those hands in the air!" At the same time, Jim felt the muzzle of a gun jammed against the small of his back.

He'd taught hundreds of young MPs how to disarm a gun-wielding opponent. For Jim, this was the moment of truth. First of all, keep calm. Jim began to raise his hands in order to momentarily pacify his opponent–as his survival instincts and training began to take over.

It was time to fight back. Twisting violently to his right in order to angle the intruder's pistol along his back rather than having it pointing directly at him, Jim brought his right arm up and under his opponent's gun hand.

BAM!

The deafening pistol shot grazed Jim's left shoulder and plowed into the wall. Jim's ears rang as he got his left hand around the gun and began to force the muzzle up and away from him.

"Yieeeee!" The fat man holding the gun yelped in pain as Jim twisted it loose from his hand, breaking the finger that had been wrapped around the trigger in the process. A moment later, Jim recoiled fast and violently, kicking his opponent's legs out from under him. "Yieeeee!" The man screamed again as he went down hard on his back to land on the hallway floor with a decided THUD!

"Move a muscle and I'll kill you." Jim snarled as he backed away from his fallen opponent, keeping the gun he'd just taken trained on the man, while checking his surroundings for any sign of an accomplice. Eyes glistening with hate glared back at Jim, but the man didn't move. He'd seen Jim's hard eyes and knew that he was perfectly capable of carrying out his threat.

Billy heard the shot from where he was seated in his van across the street and immediately sprang into action, calling Tracy on his cell phone as he ran toward the house, pistol in his hand.

Jenelli also had heard the shot. She was out of the Buick and on her way to the door by the time Billy reached her. "I don't know if you're safer outside or inside, but I'm going in so you stay right behind me," he cautioned, "but stick with me."

"I . . . I will," Jenelli breathed. Please, Jesus. She could only hope and pray that Jim was all right.

"Jim?" Billy called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Come on up, Billy. I'm okay."

Upon hearing Jim speak, Billy Burket came up those stairs in a hurry, gun in his hand and ready for action. Behind him came Jenelli.

"Keep your gun on him and shoot him if he moves," Jim said. "He doesn't get another chance to kill one of us. I'm going to check him over for a hideout weapon."

While Billy kept his gun aimed at the intruder's head, Jim methodically searched the man for a second weapon–and found a small holstered pistol strapped to his ankle. That appeared to be the only hideout weapon the man carried, and Jim quickly confiscated the hideout gun.

With both of the intruder's guns safely out of his reach, Jim turned to Jenelli. "Do you know this guy?"

"I sure do. That's Richard Claw."

Jim turned to use the telephone, and that's when Jenelli saw the blood soaking his bullet-torn jacket. "Jim!" she gasped, "You . . . You've . . . You've been shot!"

"Yeah. I wasn't quite fast enough. He grazed me, but it could have been worse." Jim already had an FBI agent on the phone and was explaining the situation to him. Meanwhile, Billy called John Murphy.

"You . . . You're . . . You're bleeding, Jim. We've . . . We've got to get you to the hospital!" Jenelli wanted to hug him, but she knew she had to stay back and out of the way. Please, Jesus!

The pain from the bullet wound was coming on stronger now. "Yeah, I suppose so," Jim replied, "but let's wait until the FBI and John Murphy get here and take this guy away." He motioned toward Richard Claw. "I can hang on that long."

* * * * *

It was much later that day when Tracy finally took Jim to the hospital. "With Terry Freemont still on the loose, Billy and I are going to stay with you," Tracy told Jim, as he was returned to a hospital room from emergency treatment to repair the bullet wound.

"Thanks."

"We want you to rest easy," Tracy continued. "One of us will be either in or just outside your room. The other of us will be outside. Oh, and we sent Jeff out to keep an eye on your cabin, just in case Terry Freemont comes back out there."

Jim nodded his understanding. He didn't have to worry about a thing. These guys were professionals at security. Then the question hit him: "Where's Jenelli?"

"I'm right here, Jim." Although it hurt to move, Jim turned to his right, and there she was. He reached out a hand and she took it. "I'm going to be right here with you, too, Jim," she said, "and I've been praying for you ever since I heard that shot."

"But what about Alycia?" Jim asked. "We were going to your house to get some things so she could come home with you."

"Right. Billy stayed with me and I did gather up some of her things, but I wanted to be with you so I picked her up and she's right here with me. I'll--"

"How's he doing?" The perky voice of a nurse coming into the room interrupted Jenelli.

"Okay, I think," Jenelli replied.

"Well, let me check him over."

Jenelli and Tracy stepped out of the room.

Jim looked up at the nurse and grinned. "You're Cheryl, aren't you?"

"I sure am. And you're Jim Wilson. I'm the girl you gave flowers to a few days ago. Remember me?"

"Yes, I do remember you," Jim answered. "I didn't know I'd be seeing you again so soon--or under these circumstances."

"Me either."

"John Murphy delivered your message, but I've been out of the country and haven't had a chance to call you."

Cheryl smiled and took Jim's hand. "That's okay. I'm still looking forward to that call." She reminded him just a little of Crystal when she smiled.

"I know," Jim replied, giving her hand a little squeeze, "and I'm looking forward to talking with you."

"You mean that?"

"Absolutely."

"Thank you," Cheryl whispered. "And, believe me, I'm looking forward to talking with you." When their eyes met, she added, "and I mean talking with you in person as well as on the phone."

Jim smiled and nodded. "I'd like that, too."

Cheryl smiled as she checked Jim's vital signs and the bandages, then gave him some medicine. "This stuff will probably make you sleepy," she told him. Then, after she'd finished, the nurse grabbed Jim's hand and whispered, "We're all pulling for you, big guy, and don't you forget to call me." She squeezed Jim's hand affectionately.

Jim smiled up at her. "I told you the other day that you and the other nurses are special and very much appreciated, and I meant it, Cheryl. Thanks. And, yes, I will call you."

The medicine acted quickly. Moments later, Jim was fast asleep.

* * * * *

John Murphy called later that evening. "We have no idea where Terry Freemont went," he told Tracy, "so we need to keep vigilant. The guy's dangerous."

"What about Richard Claw?"

"He's locked up tight. After that fracas at Jenelli's house, the judge revoked his bail. He won't be out again before his trial."

* * * * *

"It's a fine morning out there," George Henry was saying to Jim, who by then was dressed and sitting up in a hospital recliner. "Your doctor says you can go for a short ride with us if you feel like it, and I've got something interesting to show you. What do you say to a short ride?"

"A short ride with you? Sure. I'll have to take it easy, but a ride sounds good to me. Is Kay with you?"

Kay put her hand on Jim's shoulder. "Right here. Behind you."

Jim grinned as he slowly got to his feet. "Sorry, Kay. I didn't see you. Guess my eyes simply weren't turned in your direction."

"I can understand that," Kay said. "I don't think you turn very well in this direction right now, do you?"

Jim laughed. "Nope. Won't for a day or two, either. The truth is, it hurts when I turn too fast or far in either direction."

Kay took Jim's hand and squeezed it. "We're just glad you got that far out of the way of that bullet," she said.

George took his arm. "We're going to sneak you down the back elevator. The Jeep is parked by the back door, and Billy will shadow us with the van."

Jim had thought about asking Jenelli to go along, but had decided against it. This wasn't his show. George was doing the asking. Jim hoped Jenelli wouldn't be upset with him for not inviting her.

Wait a minute! What was he thinking? Why should she be upset with him? He wasn't obligated to take Jenelli with him whenever he went some place, wasn't obligated to take her into his confidence.

She had her own life to consider, her own career, her baby. She certainly would want to spend time with her baby, and rightly so. So, why would she want a rube like him around, anyway? After all, she'd lived the best life that money could buy, and Jim didn't care much about all of the things money could buy. Still, he did have an empty spot in his heart for Jenelli. He missed her when she wasn't around. He'd admit to that--and then he remembered just how comfortable he'd been around Cheryl.

They got Jim seated as comfortably as possible in the Jeep. Kay climbed into the back seat and George slipped under the steering wheel. "I thought you might like to see our new bank," he said.

"I sure would."

George drove across town, taking the less-traveled streets, driving slowly so as not to shake Jim, and then pulled into the parking lot of a small bank. "This is it," George gestured toward the building as he spoke.

"Wow!" Jim exclaimed.

"Looks real nice, doesn't it?" Kay responded.

"It sure does." Indeed, the bank was nicely designed and obviously quite well maintained. It had been constructed of stone and brick with a beautifully landscaped and spacious lawn designed to blend in with the upscale surroundings.

In fact, the building design and construction projected an image of strength, the image both George and Jim preferred in a bank. The design must be welcoming in order to attract customers, of course, but strength meant security–and that was what a bank was all about.

Jim turned to George. "Good job. You can be real proud of this acquisition." Jim had recognized George's exceptional management abilities years ago. They'd worked well together. Jenelli had talked about her being blessed in so many ways. Well, Jim felt himself blessed to have partnered with George Henry.

"Thanks." George chuckled. "We won't go inside today, but one of the things that really sold me on this particular bank is the vault. It's considerably larger than we'll need for everyday banking operations, but we can make use of it for the treasures you bring home, and I do have long-term plans for this bank."

"Long-term plans?" Jim asked.

"Yep. I think that with a little work we can double the revenue within five years. In fact, we might do better than double our revenue within five years, because this part of town is really growing and we can be a big part of that growth. The staff is excellent, friendly and extremely competent. We might have to enlarge the building, but there's plenty of room for us to do that if we want to."

"Sounds good to me. How did you set up the ownership?"

"Pretty much like we talked about," George explained. "We each have a fifty percent share. I'll get copies of the paperwork to you within a few days."

Jim smiled. "It sounds good to me," he repeated, "and my guess is you're considering yet another bank acquisition in the near future."

George chuckled. "Yep."

"The one Tony Paterson destroyed?"

George laughed again, then glanced at his watch. "That one, too, Jim, maybe once the bank examiners get the finances there straightened out, but we'd better be getting you back to the hospital."

"I suppose so, but before we do," Jim countered, "I'd like for you to drive me around our new bank and around the block so I can see the rest of the neighborhood."

"Okay." George drove them around the bank and parked momentarily on the other side so that Jim could watch the drive-through window operate. There was a steady stream of customers and the drive-through seemed to Jim to have been extremely well designed. Not that Jim was surprised. George would have selected a well-designed bank as well as one that was financially sound.

They then drove around the immediate neighborhood, an upscale business district filled with a mixture of small office buildings, retail shops, and several well-maintained residences. Everything seemed to Jim to be neat and well-maintained, an excellent spot for a bank with plenty of growth potential. Well, George would have seen to that!

It was on the way back to the hospital that Jim turned as best he could toward Kay. "How's the gold mine coming along?" he asked.

"Tell you what let's do," Kay began by way of responding to Jim's question, "Let's go for another drive tomorrow so you can see for yourself."
CHAPTER 16

Jenelli did not sleep well that night. They'd arranged for her and Alycia to stay in a hospital room near Jim, and she spent a share of the night thinking about both of her loves. And she had no problem admitting that she loved both Alycia and Jim. No problem at all. It simply was a question of whether Jim could love her in return–and that question troubled Jenelli, troubled her greatly.

For one thing, Jenelli knew that Jim had loved the girl named Crystal. He still was deeply in love with her memory. That was quite obvious. Could he love her as he had Crystal, or would she always be number two? And could she be the love of Jim's life that Crystal had once been? Those were things she must take up with Jim. Please help me to say and do the right thing, Jesus, she prayed.

What she must do, she decided, was trust God to bring her and Jim together, or if that was not to be, let them go their separate ways, having been better off for having known one another. Jenelli could only pray that God's will would be done in her life in the future, and so she prayed throughout the night with that in mind.

Two things troubled Jenelli. First of all, she began to realize that she'd been praying--well, wrong. She'd been self-centered in praying for God to give her Jim's affection. Instead, she'd best pray for God to help her find happiness--and the man He would have her to marry. If, in fact, He wanted her to marry again.

But something else troubled Jenelli that night. Tracy had responded so well to God's wish that he become a Christian. She'd had the privilege of leading him to Jesus, and she would trust that Tracy would find a church where he could grow in the Christian faith. And Jim had said he'd been a Christian once. If that were the case, she'd pray that he would rededicate his life to Jesus. Perhaps she could lead him in this regard. At least, that was the way she'd pray. Dear Jesus, Jenelli felt led to pray, help me to be a blessing to Jim as he has been to me.

And what about her own life now that Tony was gone? Not only was Tony gone, but he'd wasted their life savings and was leaving her with almost nothing at all, financially speaking. Tony's creditors would take the house and her car to pay off his gambling debts. They'd close down the bank. And they'd almost got her little girl. Kidnapped her and left her to die in a ditch during a storm. What a horrible nightmare Tony had left her. If it hadn't been for Jim and his friends . . . . It was simply too horrible to think about.

What if God hadn't sent Jim and his friends to rescue Alycia and help her when He did? But He had. Praise God!

God would help her rebuild her life one step at a time. She'd trust Him to do that. She had some money now, thanks to Tracy, and she had her career. It wouldn't be easy, but she could support herself. Not as lavishly as Tony had wanted to live, but she could support herself and Alycia. But most importantly, she had her new friends, her God-given friends.

She'd always lived in Tony's shadow. He'd been the outgoing one, the one everyone looked up to because of his position as a wealthy bank president and financial manager. Sometimes she'd felt like he only kept her around because she was pretty, something he could show off. Now that she needed friends to help her, she was glad she didn't have to rely on Tony or any of his friends.

Yes, it had been a blessing to meet Jim and the others. As a result of meeting Jim, she'd be able to talk about her future with honest, unpretentious people like George Henry. She'd get in touch with George in the morning.

As she prayed and praised God for His goodness to her, a gentle peace came upon Jenelli and at last she slept. She must simply trust God to work things out. Maybe it wasn't all that important that Jim love her like she loved him. What was important for Jim was that he get right with God. And, even as she prayed that night, God was working things out for her future, a future more eventful than any she'd ever dreamed. She'd trust God for that.

* * * * *

"Hi, Jenelli." She recognized Tracy's voice.

"Hi, Tracy."

"Are you ready to go for a ride?" Tracy sounded cheerful. He obviously was ready to go.

"Sure. Is it okay if we take Alycia?"

"Yes."

She wanted to ask where they were going, but that wasn't the way Tracy preferred to operate, and she trusted him He'd tell her what he wanted her to know when he was ready. It was okay. A few minutes later, Jenelli and Alycia joined Tracy in his Buick.

The Merchant's Mutual Insurance Company building occupied most of a city block. Tracy circled the building twice, looking things over, then parked in the parking lot near the outside entrance to the fitness center.

An attendant was on duty, a tall, muscular young man who looked just like an advertisement for a fitness center. To Jenelli's surprise, there actually were people working out at that hour of the morning. "Oh, yes, we're open 24 hours a day," the attendant told her when she expressed her surprise. "We encourage our employees to use the fitness center and most of them do, from the CEO and directors on down to the pencil-pushers." He grinned. "We've got two attendants who can help people get started if you'd like to give some of the machines a try." He tickled Alycia's little fingers. "Hey! We've even got a play room for little children." Turning back to Jenelli, he asked again, "Want to work out?"

Jenelli smiled at his enthusiasm and shook her head. "No, thank you. Not today."

"Well, okay. Another time, perhaps." The attendant examined her identification and Tony's death certificate. "I knew Tony, and I was really sorry to hear about his accident," he told her as he handed the papers back to her. "I'll show you where to find his locker. Let me get the key and a bag for you to use."

Jenelli and Tracy followed the fitness center attendant into the locker room and watched as he opened the locker that Tony had used. He'd kept a change of clothes and his gym shoes there, and the attendant lifted the clothing out of the locker and began to fold and place them into the bag.

As the attendant was filling the bag he'd provided with Tony's shoes and clothes, Tracy quietly reached into the locker and retrieved a small manilla envelope that was lying in a corner. Seeing that the attendant's head was still down as he fitted things into the carry bag, Tracy quietly slipped the contents of the envelope into his jacket pocket, then handed the empty envelope to the attendant. "Check this, but I think it's empty," he said.

The attendant looked inside the envelope and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, it's empty. I'll throw it away if you wish."

"Thank you. That'll be fine."

There was nothing else in the locker.

"Guess that's it," the attendant said. "Thanks for coming by for Tony's things." He turned to Jenelli. "I'll miss him."

"Thank you."

Once Jenelli and Tracy were in the Buick and driving away from the Merchant's Mutual Insurance Company building, Tracy reached into his jacket pocket and handed Jenelli the contents of the envelope he'd found in Tony's locker.

"What . . . What are these?" She asked, puzzled as she read over the papers.

"Pawn shop receipts."

"I've . . . I've never seen anything like them." She began to look at them intently, then suddenly blurted out, "I . . . I can't . . . can't believe it. Tony must have pawned my . . . my . . . my engagement . . . ring! The . . . The very ring he gave me!" Tears began to trickle down her face. "And . . . And look at this. He . . . He must have pawned the . . . the necklace my . . . my mother gave . . . gave me for a . . . for a wedding gift! And . . . And here's one for . . . ." She daubed at her eyes with a tissue.

"Jenelli?" Tracy's voice brought her back to the present.

"Y-Yes?" Jenelli fought back the tears.

"Let me look at the dates on these receipts."

Jenelli handed the receipts to Tracy. He glanced at the receipts, then turned to Jenelli. "These items should still be at the pawnshop. Would you like to redeem them?"

"Oh, yes. But . . . But I . . . I don't know how to do that."

"You've never dealt with a pawnshop, have you?"

"No."

Tracy turned the Buick around and headed back uptown. "Let's go check in with the pawnbroker and see what we can do about getting these things back for you," he told her.

"I . . . I can't believe that . . . that Tony would be so heartless as to take . . . my . . . take my jewelry and . . . and pawn it."

"He probably was desperate for cash."

"I . . . I know that, but . . . but . . . . I'm . . . I'm sorry." Jenelli dissolved into tears.

"It's okay." Tracy troed to be reassuring. "Dry your tears now, though. We'll go see if we can get the items you want back from the pawnbroker."

"How do we do that?"

"Just come with me. I'll take care of getting them back. You'll want to verify that the things we buy back are really yours, though, okay? You look 'em over carefully to be sure nothing is broken before we buy 'em back."

Jenelli dried her eyes and nodded her understanding. "Okay."

Tracy parked near the pawn shop where Tony had pawned Jenelli's jewelry. Jenelli carried Alycia and the three of them went inside. When Tracy presented the pawn receipts and said they'd like to redeem the items, the pawnbroker brought them out. Jenelli identified each item that belonged to her, and Tracy paid to redeem them.

* * * * *

"Hi, Jim." He recognized Kay's voice.

"Hi, Kay."

"Ready to go for a ride?"

"Umm, Kay?"

"Yes?"

"They're sending me home."

"They're sending you home already?" Kay was pleased that the hospital staff felt that Jim was ready to go home, but she wasn't absolutely sure that he could manage everything he'd need to do for himself.

"Yep. Just as soon as I can get my stuff together."

"Are you sure you can manage everything okay if you go home?"

"I think so. Oh, I'll have to come back in to let them change the dressing on my shoulder, but other than that I should do okay. Besides, I'll have Jenelli and Tracy near by, at least for a few days."

George came into the room just then. "What's this I hear about you going home?" he asked.

"It's so. They're releasing me from the hospital."

"Well, then, do you still want to go for a ride?" He looked around the room. "Where are Jenelli and Tracy?"

"Sure I want to go for a ride. Jenelli and Tracy are off doing some treasure hunting."

"Treasure hunting?"

"That's what Tracy calls it. You see, after they found that cash stuffed into Tony's golf bag, they got some ideas about where he might have stashed some other cash. They're off looking for it right now. But you asked if I wanted to go for a ride, and the answer's 'yes,' just as soon as I check out of the hospital."

* * * * *

"Got any other ideas about where Tony might have stashed some cash?" Tracy asked Jenelli once they were finished at the pawnshop.

Jenelli looked at Tracy, her big green eyes glistening with tears as she hugged Alycia. "I'm so . . . so happy to get these things back, I . . . I can't even think about anything else right now." She hesitated and wiped her eyes. "You guys have been so nice to me. I . . . I don't know how I can ever repay you."

Tracy smiled reassuringly. "You don't have to repay anybody. How about some lunch while we do some thinking about where to look next? Besides, I need to check in with Jim. They're going to release him from the hospital today. You probably already know that."

Jenelli smiled. "I didn't know for sure, but he told me he thought they might. He said that George Henry was meeting with him and that you'd bring me and Alycia out to his cabin when we were finished treasure hunting."

Tracy took Jenelli and Alycia to a small nearby restaurant. Over soup and sandwiches they quietly discussed the events of the morning.

"I've been racking my brain trying to think of some place where Tony might have stashed some more cash," Jenelli told Tracy, "and for the life of me I can't."

"To change the subject for a moment," Tracy countered, "what do you think about this morning's find?"

"You mean the pawn receipts?"

"Yes."

"I think Tony must have pawned those things on his way over to the Merchant's Mutual Insurance Company building," Jenelli replied. "Do you suppose he had a debt to pay over there and . . . and needed the cash?"

Could be."

"What might he have gambled on over there?"

Tracy shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, any number of things. Maybe on a sporting event. Maybe on how many push-ups he could do. Maybe on how many miles it is from New York to San Francisco. Who knows? Gamblers gamble on anything and everything."

"Where else might he have gambled?" Jenelli asked.

"Anywhere. You tell me."

"I've been thinking. Tony used to coach a city-league basketball team. They called themselves the Panthers and played games at that old gym over on Oak Street. Do you know the one I mean?"

"I think so."

"Would they have had lockers where he might have stashed something?"

"Let's go find out."

"The old gym on Oak Street once was a high school gym, but had been abandoned by the school district and sold to the city ten years ago. The city recreation league had taken it over.

A sign on the front door directed people around to a side door. Tracy and Jenelli found the proper entrance. Once inside, they located a suite of offices used by the people who managed the building.

"Yeah, I knew Tony Paterson," an older man wearing overalls who introduced himself as the building manager told them. "Liked him, too." He studied the certificate of death Jenelli presented, and then ask her for identification. Satisfied that she was who she said she was, he told them that there indeed was a locker room where players and coaches could change clothes. "I'll show you where the lockers are and we'll check 'em," he told them.

The manager consulted a clip board that was hanging in his office. "Tony Paterson used locker number 22. I don't suppose you've got a key."

"No. Sorry."

"It's okay," the manager replied. "I've got a master key that should open it, but if you locate the key Tony had checked out, I'd like it back." He walked off down the hallway. Jenelli and Tracy followed.

Locker number 22 was filled with sporting equipment. The manager took one look and turned to Jenelli. "I'll get you a couple of paper bags if you want to take this stuff with you," he said. When she nodded, he turned and walked back toward his office.

There were two pair of gym shoes, six pair of socks, a Panther uniform, a sweat shirt, a rule book, a play book, and two basketballs. One appeared to be a regulation basketball and the other had been autographed by Tony in large letters, his name scrawled completely around the ball.

When Tracy picked up the autographed basketball, it seemed not only heavier than normal but seriously under inflated. Quickly handing it to Jenelli, he whispered, "Hang on to this one." She cradled it in her free arm, opposite Alycia.

Tracy inspected the equipment and carefully searched the locker. Everything except for the one basketball seemed to be normal athletic gear. "Do you want to donate this other stuff to the gym?" he asked Jenelli.

"Yes."

When the manager returned with two heavy paper bags, Jenelli asked him if they could use the equipment. "We sure could," he told her.

"I'm going to keep the basketball that Tony autographed, but you can keep the rest," Jenelli told the manager. "Maybe somebody can use it."

"Thanks." The manager's face brightened. "We sure can use anything like that we can get our hands on because our budget doesn't allow the funds for much in the way of equipment. The shoes and uniform will fit some kid, and some coach will sure go for the rule book."

"Then it's all yours." Tracy loaded the clothing and equipment they'd found into the paper bags and handed them to the manager. "Is there any other place here where Tony might have left things?" Tracy asked.

"Any other place?" The manager thought for a moment. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Another locker, maybe?"

"No, not any place that I can think of. Tony wasn't here all that much so he didn't need much storage space. Besides, he usually brought a backpack of some sort to carry his personal gear."

Tracy and Jenelli thanked the manager. "Want me to carry the basketball for you," Tracy asked Jenelli, "seeing as to how you've got an arm load already?"

Jenelli grinned. "Please do."

The manager saw them to the exit door. As they were about to leave, Jenelli saw him looking intently at Alycia as if he wanted to ask what happened.

"Frostbite," Jenelli responded to his unasked question.

"Frostbite, you say. I saw a lot of that when I lived in northern Canada. Must have been pretty painful."

"Yes, it sure was," Jenelli agreed. "Still is, I guess, but they've got her medicated."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Yes. She was in the hospital for several days, but she's out and healing up now. She's a real trooper."

The gym manager nodded his understanding as he held the door for Tracy and Jenelli. She was grateful that the manager hadn't asked too many questions about Alycia, questions like how she came to be frostbitten. No way did she feel like talking about Alycia's kidnapping and abandonment along the highway in the sleet storm. It was hard enough for her to realize that the kidnapping had indeed happened.

"So Tony carried a back pack!" Jenelli exclaimed as they were driving away from the gym. "That's the first time I've heard mention of his having one!"

* * * * *

"It's high time I paid Paterson's widow a visit, don't you think?" the stocky man said. "Knock a little sense into her. Get her cooperation. Help you get some money back that guy stole from you."

"Yeah, but we'll wait a few more days," his friend replied. "The lawyers are going after the Paterson's house, so they'll have to be moving her into an apartment somewhere. Once they do, she'll be on her own. Won't have all those other guys around." He laughed. "Then you can pay her a visit."

"After what her husband did to you, I'm looking forward to that visit," the stocky man responded, as he rubbed his hands together in pleasure. "She won't be so haughty once I'm through with her. In fact, I'll bet she'll be happy to take that ride with you. Oh, by the way?"

"Yeah?"

"After you and her take that ride, and you get what cash you can from her, umm . . . ?" A twisted smile flitted across his face.

"Yeah? What you thinkin'?"

"I hate that uppity woman," the stocky man sneered. "After you get what you can from her, I'm gonna want to pay her another visit."
CHAPTER 17

The road leading to the Henry's gold mine had indeed been greatly improved by the mining company. What once had been a torturous trip by Jeep was now a relatively smooth ride. That was good because Jim's shoulder was still quite tender and jostling wouldn't have been good for it. Still, despite the occasional pain in his shoulder, he was excited with George and Kay at the prospects for mining gold there on Sycamore Creek.

"These guys really worked fast," George was saying, "once they took a look at the assay reports." He chuckled. "They sunk a couple of exploratory shafts and--"

Kay giggled as she broke in. "Yeah, Jim. They told us to file mining claims on both sides of the one we filed because they think the gold goes back underground a long ways."

Jim sank back into his seat on his good shoulder. "That's just great, Kay. I'm real pleased for you." He meant it.

"You've encouraged us for years," Kay responded, wholeheartedly, "and we appreciate your help. The guys you recommended have been just great to work with."

"We sure do appreciate your help," George agreed, "and . . . and here we are."

The three sat there in the Jeep for a few minutes, watching the activity. Then one of the engineers who was overseeing the mining start-up came over and greeted them. "Come on over here, George," he said. "I want to show you something."

* * * * *

"That's the heaviest basketball I've ever seen!" Jenelli exclaimed, once she and Tracy were back in his Buick.

"Yep."

"What's inside?"

Tracy pulled the Buick into a parking lot. "Let's take a quick look."

Jenelli inspected the basketball, turning it around in her hands. "The ball's been cut open," she whispered excitedly. Squeezing the ball so the cut opened slightly, she started to push her fingers through the cut.

"Wait! Maybe you don't want to stick your hand inside without looking first," Tracy cautioned.

"Oh, you're right." Jenelli grimaced and withdrew her fingers.

"Here, let me squeeze the ball so you can see inside."

"Okay."

Tracy squeezed the ball so that the cut gapped open slightly. Jenelli twisted the ball around until she could look inside with the aid of Tracy's flashlight. "Oh, my! Oh, my!" she gasped.

"Whatcha got in there?" Tracy could guess, but he'd let her tell him.

"Cash!" Jenelli excitedly whispered.

Tracy chuckled. "I thought so."

"Oh, Tracy, you've worked another wonder for me!" Jenelli exclaimed, "and I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"You're welcome. Treasure hunting is kind of fun, isn't it?"

Jenelli giggled. "It is when I'm with an expert like you." Then she got serious. "We'll take this to George Henry to keep for me, right?"

"Yep. On our way home."

Thank you, Jesus, Jenelli breathed a prayer of thanksgiving.

"So what became of Tony's backpack?" Tracy asked, almost interrupting her prayer without meaning to.

"I . . . I don't know," Jenelli replied. "Like I said, I didn't even know he used one. That was news to me."

"Hmmm! So, refresh my memory. Where had he been on the night of his accident?"

Jenelli shook her head. "Sorry. I . . . I don't know that one either."

"Do you know where they took the car he was driving?"

"Not for sure. It was smashed up real bad." Jenelli thought for a few moments. "I think . . . I think some salvage yard ended up with it."

"Probably. Which one?"

"I don't know."

Tracy pulled the Buick to the curb and dialed a number on his cell phone. Moments later, he had the answer. "Greenbriar Auto Salvage," he told Jenelli. "I know that place. It's over on Greenbriar Avenue." He swung the Buick around.

"We're going over there now?" Jenelli questioned.

"Yes. Let's go take a look in the car. Maybe the backpack is still inside."

"I . . . I'm not . . . not sure I want to . . . ." Jenelli's voice trailed off. No way did she want to see the car in which Tony died. She didn't even like to think about that smashed up car.

"You don't want to see the car?" Tracy asked.

"Yes, I . . . I mean 'no,' I don't want to . . . to see the . . . the car." Jenelli stammered.

"Okay. You don't have to look at the car," Tracy told her. "I'll take a look for both of us."

Once Jenelli had introduced herself and shown Tony's death certificate to the manager of the Greenbriar Auto Salvage, she returned to Tracy's Buick to wait with Alycia while he inspected the car in which Tony died. The Auto Salvage people hadn't touched the car since they'd towed it to their lot, or so they said, and Tracy doubted that anyone else had thoroughly searched through it. Or, on second thought, had they?

Tracy searched the interior first. The backpack they were looking for, or at least a backpack, was there, all right, wedged under the front seat. Tracy quietly transferred the small amount of cash in the backpack to his jacket pocket. Either it had not held a lot of cash on the night Tony died or else somebody had already taken most of it. There was no way to know for sure.

He then searched the car trunk and looked under the hood. Other than the backpack, there was nothing of interest or value. In fact, the car almost seemed too clean and Tracy wondered if the police–or someone else–had taken any of Tony's personal items when they'd worked the crash. He'd find out.

They thanked the Auto Salvage manager, showed him the empty backpack, and explained that that was all they'd found. He wished them a "good day" as they left.

* * * * *

Something troubled Jeff Monte from the moment he arrived at Jim's cabin. Although he couldn't see that anything was wrong or that anyone was lurking nearby, the simple fact was that Ben was nervous. Exceedingly nervous. Jeff, like the others, trusted Ben's judgment as a guard dog. When Ben was nervous, it was cause for caution.

Ben did not usually leave the cabin except with Jim. The big white dog had a fenced in yard behind the cabin that was accessible to him via a small door built into the back door of the cabin, but he usually contented himself within the cabin when Jim was gone. That day, however, when Jeff called to him and said, "Let's go look around," the big dog was ready to go.

Jeff checked the .45 Colt he usually carried to be doubly sure it was fully loaded and tucked it into his jacket pocket where it would be readily accessible. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to use it, but it was there if he needed it. Binoculars swung from a strap around his neck.

Once outside, Jeff and Ben circled the cabin and then inspected the garage and storage shed. There was nothing unusual or alarming to be found. Still, Ben appeared to be nervous, pausing every so often to sniff the air and look around suspiciously.

Jeff then began to climb the circuitous path toward Jim's lookout. Ben followed close behind.

"Gr-Grrr!" Halfway up the path, Ben suddenly growled.

Jeff cautiously looked around, saw nothing out of the ordinary, and then dropped down on one knee beside the dog. "What's going on, Ben?"

Ben was intently gazing up toward the lookout, but then turned as if to look out over Jim's cabin and the buildings. Jeff lifted the binoculars and scanned the area. He didn't see any human activity.

The lookout was out of their direct line of vision at that point on the trail. From the way Ben had acted, however, someone just might be up there. They'd have to approach it from another way, and cautiously. That would not be an easy approach because of the way Jim had designed the lookout, but Jeff knew of a way. "This way, Ben," he whispered.

They circled back and around the face of the hill, then approached the lookout from the side. Jeff had the Colt in his hand as they gained access, but there was no one hiding there.

"Gr-Grrr!" Jeff and Ben spotted the cigarette butt on the floor at about the same time. Jim didn't smoke, nor did anyone who worked for him. An intruder had been in that lookout, all right, and not long ago. Ben had known that something was wrong–and the big white dog had been absolutely right.

Someone had discovered the lookout post that Jim had created. It wasn't visible from the highway and was almost invisible from the cabin unless one knew exactly where to look, so either the intruder had stumbled onto it, an unlikely possibility, or had spent a great deal of time snooping around Jim's property. They would have to assume that he knew the lay of the land.

Jeff carefully surveyed the landscape before him using the binoculars. There was nothing amiss that he could spot. "Let's scout around, Ben," he told the big dog.

It was conceivable that someone with a rifle was out there waiting for him or the dog, but most likely they'd be waiting for Jenelli or Jim. Maybe it was that crooked cop who'd tried to set the cabin on fire a few nights ago. Regardless of who was out there, Jeff wasn't afraid. Eight years as a paratrooper in the Special Forces had taught him how to meet danger head on and defeat it, regardless of where he found it.

And Jeff was at home in these hills. He'd hunted and fished around these parts ever since Jim had hired him to assist Tracy and Billy with security at the bank and the other businesses. Although one might think that it would be hard for a man who stood well over six feet tall and weighed over 200 pounds to move swiftly and silently through the thick underbrush, it was exactly what Jeff had been trained to do.

"Stick with me, Ben." Jeff patted the dog's head and let him know that he still wanted him to stay close by and not run on ahead. Ben knew what he wanted. They would stick together.

The two set off together then, carefully searching the ground around the entrance to the lookout, Ben sniffing the ground and brush, and Jeff, gun in his hand and ready for anything, eying the surroundings for a potential ambush.

"Gr-Grrr!" Ben had found the trail, all right. There were broken branches where someone had pushed his way through the brush, and there was a scrape mark on the rock where a shoe had slipped.

Those appeared to be relatively fresh marks. Whoever had been seated in the lookout no doubt had seen Jeff at the cabin and then seen him and the dog starting to search the area. The intruder had to know that they soon would climb to the lookout. And he hadn't taken a shot at them when he had the opportunity, so he must have been waiting for Jim or Jenelli.

There were more broken twigs. The intruder appeared to be climbing almost straight up the hill and away from the lookout. That meant that he was above them, and Jeff did not like that. It would give the intruder an obvious advantage, especially if he were bent on murder and armed with a rifle. "This way, Ben," Jeff whispered. They'd go around the other way and try to get above the intruder.

Wait! They'd better let someone know what was going on. Before Jeff and Ben pursued the intruder any farther, Jeff sat down on a rock, retrieved his cell phone from its holster on his belt, and dialed Jim's number. Jim could get in touch with Tracy while he and Ben went after the intruder. "There's serious mischief about," Jeff concluded. "Keep Jenelli well away from here until you hear from me."
CHAPTER 18

"Come on over here, George. I want to show you guys something," the engineer repeated. "It's not far," he chuckled, "but it's sure worth the walk."

"Okay." George, Kay, and Jim followed the engineer who had been overseeing the work on the Henry's mine site.

They walked for about a quarter of a mile, following the creek as it meandered. Finally, the engineer stopped. "We were digging over here," he pointed, "and, well, take a look for yourselves."

"Wow! What a find!" Jim exclaimed as he saw what the engineer was pointing out. Indeed, the backhoe had exposed a series of steps that once lead into a dugout on the creek bank. Although it now was filled in with dirt and debris, the original steps, a wall, and the dugout floor were clearly visible.

"Do you think that's where the man who first discovered gold here lived?" Kay asked Jim.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Jim replied. "Now, let's take a close look and see if we can discover if he hid any gold in or near the dugout."

The engineer spoke with the man operating the backhoe, then returned to talk with the mine owners. "We're going to remove dirt very slowly and carefully," he told them, "and we'll stop if we uncover anything that looks interesting." He grinned and turned to Jim. "I hope you're right about that guy having hidden some gold around here where we can find it."

"You bet!" Jim replied enthusiastically.

George, Kay, and Jim watched with extreme interest and anticipation as the backhoe operator went to work. The man was an expert at operating the machine, and soon had removed much of the dirt that filled the dugout, exposing the once well-packed floor and partially rocked walls.

"Looks like a well-made dugout," Kay commented, and the others agreed.

There were shards of pottery on the floor, likely the remains of a dish once used by the dugout's original occupant. And there were what appeared to be ashes, likely left over from a fire built just inside the opening that once served as a door.

Inch by inch the backhoe operator uncovered the dugout. Although the roof had caved in long ago, it still was possible to make out where the walls had been–and then they struck paydirt!

As the backhoe operator cautiously lifted dirt away from the outside of the rock walls, he uncovered a hollowed out space. In that space were the gold bars and coins hidden there many years ago by the original miner. So well-devised was the hiding place behind a stone in the wall that countless searchers had overlooked the cache.

The backhoe operator stopped operating and watched with satisfaction as the engineer assisted George and Kay in removing seven small bars of gold and a cast iron pot filled with gold coins.

George and Kay had recognized the possibility of discovering just such a gold cache and had written terms for the division of any such gold into the contact with the mining company. Now they'd be sharing that gold with the workers and there would be no questions about how it would be divided.

Jim smiled as George and Kay examined their share of the gold and showed the find to him. "Nice going, guys," he whispered.

"Thanks to you," Kay replied. "You're the one who got us thinking about a possible gold cache."

Jim examined one of the gold bars. "You'll want to get these assayed, but to judge from the looks of these bars," he told them, "the miner did an excellent job of smelting the ore." He chuckled, then turned to George. "You may have to buy another bank for the vault to stash your gold in," he suggested.

George just grinned in response.

The backhoe operator continued his cautious work of digging out the old dugout. They'd keep looking for any additional caches of gold around the site and along the creek bank. Who knew what might be buried there?

* * * * *

"As near as we know, nobody who worked Tony's accident kept any of his personal belongings," John reported back to Tracy.

"Nothing like a briefcase filled with cash?" Tracy sounded a bit skeptical.

"Not that we can determine, anyway, and I know the cops who worked that accident," John replied.

"You know them?"

"Yes, and they're as honest as they come."

Tracy wrote down the names of the cops who'd worked Tony's accident. He'd find out later just how honest these guys were. Not that anyone would ever recover any cash that they might have taken, but he would check them out anyway. Let them know somebody cared about how they handled an accident.

Tony's backpack contained exactly $500 in United States currency, mostly in fifty dollar bills. It would have held considerably more, but maybe Tony was down to that last five hundred dollars and knew it wouldn't last much longer. That knowledge along with the knowledge that he was about to be discovered deeply in debt and that he was going to lose everything certainly could have provided the impetus for him to commit suicide. That is, if he committed suicide. Tracy wasn't convince.

Tracy handed the $500 in currency from Tony's backpack to Jenelli. Whatever money they could find, even in small amounts, would help her as she attempted to establish a new life for herself and Alycia.

Jenelli looked at the cash. "It must have been awful for Tony that night, knowing that he was financially ruined and about to be disgraced," she mused aloud. Her thoughts along those lines were the same as Tracy's.

"I suspect so."

Jenelli nodded in agreement. "Tony had so much going for him, but he got to loving money more than anything else."

"My mom used to tell me that there's a warning in the Bible about not loving money too much," Tracy reflected.

"Jenelli nodded. "Yes there is. That was good teaching!" she exclaimed. "It's in First Timothy 6:10, and it reads, 'For the love of money is the root of all evil.' See, Tracy, it's not the money that's the problem, it's the love of money. That's what got Tony in deep trouble. He loved money, loved showing off the things he could buy, and then he got addicted to gambling--trying to make a killing the easy way. Oh, boy! Did that ever take him down fast. But, you know something, Tracy?"

"What's that?"

"I really believe that God would have helped him overcome his love of money and the addictions–if only he would have trusted Him to do so."

It was moments later when Tracy's cell phone jangled. Jenelli had wanted to speak to Tracy of God's love and concern, but had been thwarted again. "Hello."

"Jim here."

"What's up?" Tracy asked.

Jim relayed the message he'd had from Jeff about an intruder around his cabin. "Better take Jenelli and Alycia over to the hotel for the night," he advised, "or maybe for several nights, whatever it takes until we get this latest threat sorted out."

"I'll do that, and then I'm on my way out to help Jeff," Tracy replied.

"What's going on?" Jenelli asked, a worried look on her face.

Tracy gave her an overview of the situation at the cabin. "So," he added, "at Jim's suggestion, we're going to check you and Alycia into a secure hotel suite for the night."

* * * * *

Tracy walked Jenelli and Alycia through the Elm Street Hotel lobby and to the registration desk where the clerk efficiently assigned them one of the suites and presented their coded passkey. While that was being done, Tracy called Hotel Security, identified himself, and ask the Security Officer on duty to check in with them at the assigned suite. "You'll be safe and secure here," Tracy assured Jenelli as he accompanied her and Alycia to the suite of rooms reserved for her.

Once in her suite, Jenelli thanked Tracy, then asked the question that most interested her. "I can only assume that Jim has a financial interest in this hotel?"

"Yes. Jim and George Henry together own the hotel."

Before Tracy could elaborate on the hotel's ownership, the Security Officer who was on duty arrived and greeted them. "Jim called me a few minutes ago," he told them, "and asked me to make Jenelli and Alycia doubly secure." Tracy explained about some of Jenelli's harassment and the Security Officer assured them that he would personally see that nothing untoward happened. "Enjoy your stay with us and call me if you need anything," he told Jenilli, handing her a card with his telephone number as he left the suite.

"Security here is excellent," Tracy assured her, "and we'll be checking in with you regularly. Right now, though, I've got to go help Jeff track down that intruder." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "I wanted our Security Officer to meet you so he knows who you are."

Jenelli thanked him.

Tracy hesitated at the door. "You have the use of any or all of our facilities, including the restaurant," he told Jenelli. "Just mention your suite number and Jim will take care of any charges." He smiled. "We have families with small children stay here all the time, so our restaurant staff has food suitable for Alycia. All you have to do is ask." He turned. "See you tomorrow."

* * * * *

The intruder now was making straight for the highway. He probably had a vehicle hidden somewhere. But he obviously didn't know the country as well as Jeff did because he was setting a course through some very rugged terrain.

Furthermore, Jeff noted, the intruder wasn't a very good woodsman. Instead of going around thick brush, he forged ahead right into it. Nor was he good at covering his tracks. In fact, for a while Jeff wondered if he was deliberately trying to make his trail easy to follow, perhaps to lead his pursuer into an ambush. Jeff would not be fooled into that action.

Once he noted the direction the intruder was taking, Jeff called Tracy and gave him that information. "I'll search along the highway for his vehicle," Tracy replied, "and I'm on my way out there right now."

* * * * *

The intruder now was moving in a circular pattern. He had determine that Jeff and the big dog were on his trail, and he was trying to find a more direct approach to his vehicle. He should never allowed himself to be discovered, and he now knew that he had a suburb tracker on his trail. Well, there was one sure way he knew to stop or at least slow his pursuer.

The rocky outcrop ahead made an ideal place to set up an ambush. He would simply sit there with his rifle and wait until his pursuer and the dog came into sight–and kill both of them. By now, his pursuer would have alerted others, so he couldn't go right back to that lookout above the cabin but that was all right. He'd get Jenelli Paterson later, after they'd stopped protecting her. After all, it was her worthless husband who'd ruined him, and he'd take anything Tony Paterson had of value to even the score–including his wife and baby. He hated them both. He'd kill 'em. Kill 'em both.

Richard Claw had thought Tony Paterson's wife would lead him to where the gambler had stashed cash and a lot of it. He'd tried to tell Richard that was nonsense, tried to tell him that even before he'd kidnapped the kid. That had been a stupid move, as Richard had quickly discovered to his regret.

As for himself, he'd never believed Tony Paterson had any cash left, not after he'd searched the wrecked car in which Tony had died and found absolutely nothing except that measly $500 in a backpack. No! That was it! The stupid guy had gambled it all away–his own fortune, his bank's money, Richard Claw's lifetime savings, and his, too. Maybe he'd gambled other people's money away as well.

He'd not taken the money in that backpack when he had the chance. No! Let whoever found it have it. $500. Who cared? He'd be content without that piddling sum. He knew he'd never get his money back, but what he wanted was revenge. Pure and simple. REVENGE. He'd have it, too. He'd start by taking out the guy who was after him. Settling down behind the outcrop, he cradled his rifle, released the safety, and prepared to ambush his pursuer.

Wait a minute! Something was wrong. There suddenly was no sign of the intruder's pursuer. Whereas he had heard the man and dog close fairly behind him on the trail only a short time ago, he now could not hear a sound.

Better clear out. Forget the ambush. He still could make it to his car. If he had calculated correctly, it had to be less than half a mile away. He'd get out of there and come back later, and kill them all. He'd get Jenelli Paterson, too. Get her first, and the baby, and then the others.

Trecking through that brush had been hard work. He was tired, but he could make it. Better keep an eye out for his pursuer, though. The guy might have circled around him, might have gotten between him and his car.

* * * * *

Jeff focused his binoculars on the spot where he knew the intruder was holed up. There he was! Jeff now was close enough to identify the intruder. It was the man he's suspected all along–Terry Freemont. And there was a high-powered rifle in Terry Freemont's hands. The guy was intent on murder!

The big white dog silently watched the man up ahead. He was stretched out along side Jeff, but he made no move. He wouldn't, not when Jeff had commanded him to be quiet and stay at his side. Ben knew the man up ahead as the one who'd been captured outside the cabin a few nights ago when he'd wanted to set the cabin on fire.

As Jeff watched from his hiding place, Terry Freemont stood up and looked around. He'd had what he thought was a perfect spot for an ambush, but Jeff hadn't taken the bait. Now, it appeared that Terry Freemont was going to keep moving.

Jeff called Tracy on his cell phone and advised him of Terry Freemont's approximate location and the direction he seemed to be heading. He also warned him about the rifle Freemont carried. Then Jeff and Ben cautiously got to their feet and began again to stalk the intruder.

Terry Freemont obviously was unfamiliar with the terrain because he was headed directly into a most rugged and treacherous part of the country. Now he was on the very edge of a steep, rocky ravine. Wasn't he paying attention to where he was going? And then Jeff herd the scream.

Using caution so as not to be lured into an ambush by the terrible scream, Jeff approached the spot where he'd last seen Terry Freemont–and looked straight down nearly a hundred feet into a rocky gulch.

Terry Freemont was down there all right, lying awkwardly among some boulders some eighty feet below. His head was at an awkward angle, suggesting he'd broken his neck. The rifle he'd been carrying was a good twenty feet away.

Gun in hand, Jeff made his way down into the ravine and to the man's side. Terry Freemont was dead, all right, his neck broken. Moments later, Jeff sat down beside Ben and called Tracy with the news. "It's all over for Terry Freemont," he said.
CHAPTER 19

It would take time. Jenelli knew that. It would take time for her to regain her life without Tony, although she had to admit that she hadn't had much of her own life while she was with him. So it would take time to find herself again, too, to find her own special niche in the world.

How she wished Jim were there with her now. She'd come to love that man, but she also knew that it would take time for their relationship to develop, assuming Jim wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Still, Jim might not be the man God wanted her to have and to hold. Now that she could relax and think a bit about her and Jim, she could see that they were quite different in some ways. And, furthermore, she'd recently met a number of men who had been very kind to her--men that she had really admired. One thing she did know, she wanted the man that God wanted her to have. She'd trust Him to pick the man for her.

She and Jim were different people with different lifestyles. Sometimes Jenelli wondered what she'd ever seen in Tony now that she'd met a man who so throughly captivated her. Still, marriage to Jim would mean many changes for both of them, assuming Jim even wanted her hand in marriage. And Jim just might not be the man God intended for her.

And there was one thing that absolutely must happen before she could seriously consider marriage to Jim. She wanted to be absolutely certain that Jim was a Christian. She'd rededicate her life to Jesus, and hope that Jim would, too.

Still, Jenelli could understand Jim's feelings toward God after Crystal was taken away from him. There was no way to understand why God allowed things like that to happen, but she'd try to share her thoughts with Jim to help him understand that God was in control, regardless of what happened. Hard as it was to understand, God had planned Crystal's life–and Jim's and hers. The Bible said so in Psalms 19:16, and that settled it for Jenelli. With God holding her hand, she could face with courage whatever He had planned for her future.

After all, hadn't God sent Jim and his friends into her life, first to rescue Alycia, and then to rescue her? Of course, He had. Otherwise, she'd still be dealing with a man who wanted to beat her up or kill her if she couldn't help him locate Tony's cash, something she would not have been able to do. Yes, God was in control. Thank you, Jesus.

Jenelli tried to think of all the good things God had done for her, to count her many blessings, as her long-ago Sunday School teacher had insisted that she should do. God had been so good to her. There was, however, something that troubled her, had troubled her for some time, as a matter of fact. She'd thought Tony was a Christian when she married him. He talked the talk of a Christian, quoting the Bible and attending church with her each time the doors opened, but once he fell in love with money, he didn't act like a Christian at all. Jim, on the other hand, didn't claim to be a Christian, but he acted like one should. He obviously had money, but he used it to help people in need, people like her, and not to impress people or show off. It simply didn't make sense.

What Jenelli did know was this: Jim Wilson was the most wonderful man she'd ever met, and he was so handsome! Still, she had to ask herself how much Jim would have to change in order for her to spend the rest of her life with him. Could she and Alycia live in that cabin with him? With no television? What would they do?

For that night, though, her thoughts didn't have to make sense. Here she was in a wonderful hotel room with her precious Alycia, secure from all the hurt she'd faced at the hands of other people following Tony's death, all thanks to Jim Wilson and his friends. Even though it still was early in the evening, Jenelli suddenly felt very, very tired.

Jenelli knew she couldn't go on living like this, however, nor did she want to. Tomorrow would be a new day, God willing. Tomorrow she'd get busy rebuilding her life, and Jesus would help her. With that encouraging thought, Jenelli prayed that Jesus would hold her hand as she walked into the future. Still, Jenelli's thoughts kept coming back to focus on Jim as she fell asleep. Her head might tell her to proceed with caution, but her heart already belonged to Jim.

Marriage to Tony had taught Jenelli many things, and she had matured greatly since they'd courted. Perhaps the most valuable thing she had learned was that the best marriages were somehow triangular in nature in that a man, a woman, and God must join together in order for there to be a lasting love-based relationship. Jim, Jenelli, and God–together forever! That was her wish.

* * * * *

George and Kay drove Jim back to his cabin late that afternoon. Tracy had called them to confirm that Terry Freemont was indeed dead and that as near as anyone could tell he had acted alone. They'd involved the FBI in the investigation.

Ben was especially glad to see Jim. Jeff had brought the big white dog back to Jim's cabin, and the moment Ben saw Jim he wanted to play. "Woof! Woof! Woof!" The dog barked and ran circles around Jim, all the time wagging his tail furiously, until Jim sat down on the floor and hugged him tight.

"Are you going to be all right here by yourself tonight?" Kay asked, concern evident in her voice.

Jim smiled at her from his seat on the floor. "I think so."

"We can take you somewhere?"

"No, I'll stay here with Ben. We'll be okay. Richard Claw is in jail and Terry Freemont is dead. I don't know of anyone else who's out to give us trouble."

Kay still wasn't convinced. "Well, okay. Will you give us a call if you need anything?"

"Sure."

"Is your shoulder doing okay?"

"I think so. I'll go in to the hospital tomorrow and let them change the bandages. Check me over, hopefully for the last time."

"I'm sounding like an old mother hen," Kay said, "but I don't want you driving yourself. One of us will come get you."

Jim knew better than to argue with Kay. She had good sense, more than most people he knew, and he appreciated her concern. "Okay. I'll be in touch."

Kay reached out her hand. She knew Jim wouldn't call them for anything if he didn't absolutely need to, but she'd made the offer. "Thanks for all you've done, Jim," she said.

"You're welcome. And I want you to thank Tracy and Billy and Jeff for me when you see them. I'll thank them myself as soon as I get a bit of rest and some energy back."

George shook hands with Jim. "We'll do that, and we'll coordinate things with Tracy and the rest of the guys."

* * * * *

It seemed like ages since Jim had been in his silver mine. Even thought he was exhausted from the day's exciting activities at the Henry's mine, he wanted to go there. After a bite to eat and a brief rest in his recliner, he called to Ben and together they went down the steps and through the tunnel into Jim's mine.

Jim did not intend to actually work the mine that night. He simply wanted to experience the peace that came to him when he was in that place. There was a place there where he could just sit and think. Tonight, he would sit and think.

And there were things he wanted to sort out in his mind. There was no doubt that Jenelli liked him, maybe even loved him. She'd as much as said she wanted him for her own when that lovely nurse, Cheryl, indicated her interest in him.

Well, Jim was not going to be rushed into a relationship with Jenelli. Oh, she was beautiful and they related very well to each other, and there was a tremendous warmth between them when she'd hugged him and when she'd held his hand. Still, in Jim's mind, affairs of the heart were best time-tested. No, he was not going to be rushed into a permanent relationship with Jenelli.

Besides, Jenelli deserved to match up with someone who believed as she did, someone who shared her faith in God. And the simple fact was that he had doubted God's goodness ever since Crystal had been taken away from him.

Of course, he realized that God hadn't killed her. And he realized that Crystal now was in Heaven, with the God she loved. Still, God had permitted her to die, had taken her away from him.

The best thing to do, Jim decided, was to get to know Jenelli better, assuming, of course, that she'd want to get better acquainted with him, to talk with her about her interests, about her work, about her God. It would, he admitted to himself, be wonderful to have her friendship and her companionship. He'd thought that about Crystal, too!

And could Jenelli replace Crystal in his life? Would he somehow be disloyal to Crystal's memory if he were to marry Jenelli? Crystal would have wanted him to be happy, wouldn't she have? That was another issue he'd have to deal with, but not right now. Right now, Jim needed rest.

Then the memories of Jenelli's first visit to his cabin came back to Jim. Her eyes had flitted around and around his cabin, no doubt noting the many things he didn't have. Things that Tony had. Things that she might need--or want. Well, it wasn't likely that he was going to change his lifestyle to mimic Tony's. If she needed all of the material possessions Tony had provided, she'd need to find a man who was interested in those things. That should pose no problem for a beautiful woman like her.

As Jim and Ben walked through that tunnel and back to his cabin much later that night, Jim had to admit one thing. He'd really wanted Jenelli. Affairs of the heart can derail the best of logical thinking, he told himself. And then he laughed aloud. Exactly what was he thinking, anyway?

Maybe Crystal had been right about God directing the paths of His children. Maybe God had allowed him to cross paths with Jenelli for a purpose.

For the second time since he'd met Jenelli, Jim prayed before he went to sleep. Crystal always said a person should thank God for what He has given them, and ask that His will be done instead of just asking Him to give you what you want. He'd follow that reasoning. That night, Jim thanked God for having allowed their paths to cross, and then asked Him for His will to be done for both of them.

* * * * *

Cheryl Andrews also was on Jim's mind that night. Very much so, in fact. She'd wanted to get better acquainted with him, too. Said so herself. The following morning, Jim quickly found the hospital's telephone number, dialed, and asked for her. Moments later, she was on the line: "Hello?"

"Hello Cheryl," Jim began, "Jim--"

"Jim!" Cheryl interrupted him before he could mention his full name, "Oh, I'm so happy to hear from you!" she exclaimed. Jim could sense the enthusiasm in her voice.

"When's a good time to call you when we can visit a bit?" Jim asked. "Or for you to call me, if that's more convenient?"

"I'm off work at seven tonight and it takes me about fifteen minutes to get to my apartment. How about if I call you when I get home?"

"That would be just great. I'll look forward to your call," Jim replied. He meant it, too.

* * * * *

Although he wouldn't tell anyone just yet, Jim enjoyed getting acquainted with Cheryl more than he'd enjoyed anything for a long, long time. He'd found her to be sincere in what she said, not playing games with him as some other girls had in the past. Something else about her that he especially enjoyed was the fact that she seemed to be totally unpretentious. Extremely competent in what she did, but totally unpretentious.

In fact, he was looking forward to seeing her when he next was at the hospital, and he was especially looking forward to accepting her invitation to have dinner with her at her apartment in the very near future.

* * * * *

Early the following morning, Jenelli placed a call to George Henry and asked to meet with him. "I'm going to need all kinds of help in getting my life back together," she said, "and I'd like your help."

He asked a number of questions, mostly related to Tony's problems, and she answered them as best she could. "You're going to need an attorney," George responded, "and I can recommend a good one."

"Thank you. I'd certainly appreciate that, but I don't know how I'm going to pay an attorney, or you, or Jim, or any of the people who have been so good to me."

George didn't hesitate. "Not to worry. We'll take care of things, and you can pay us back once you get things straightened out." Jenelli took it as a simple statement of trust in her integrity, something she needed very badly right then.

They made arrangements to meet later that morning at the attorney's office. "I'll pick you up," George assured her.

Things were going to work out. Jenelli knew that. Thank you Jesus, she breathed.

Now to call Jim.

* * * * *

Jim slept soundly for almost ten hours and awoke refreshed, except for his aching shoulder. He'd shut off his cell phone and turned off the ringer on his land-line phone so as not to be disturbed. Then, on his way to the kitchen, he noticed that the red light on his phone was blinking. He had voice-mail waiting:

"Hi, Jim. It's Jenelli." She briefly outlined her plans to meet with George Henry and an attorney, then closed by saying, "Jim, I . . . I guess you know this, but I really do like you, and I hope you like me, too. Thanks for all that you've done for me. Now that I'm out from under some of the pressure, I hope we can get together and get better acquainted. At least, I'd like that, and I hope you will, too. I'll call you later today." She started to add, "I love you, Jim," but thought that might not be appropriate, not just yet. Someday, if she had her way, it would be the natural thing to say. That is, if God intended Jim for her--and if she could get some of her reservations about life with Jim out of her mind.

Jim filled Ben's food bowl, then prepared breakfast for himself. He was scheduled to stop by the hospital to let someone look at his shoulder and the weather looked threatening, like maybe it would start sleeting soon, so he'd better get moving. Not that he minded being out in the icy sleet, but getting going before the storm got there seemed like the prudent thing to do.

Before he finished eating breakfast the telephone rang. This time it was Kay Henry: "I'm just checking up on you, Jim," she said. "Did you sleep okay last night?"

Jim told her that he'd had a good night's sleep, that he was getting around okay, that he'd fixed himself breakfast, and that he was going to check in at the hospital before long. To his relief, Kay didn't argue about his driving himself to the hospital.

Once he'd finished talking to Kay, Jim sat back in his recliner. He certainly was fortunate to have friends like George and Kay as well as Tracy and Billy and Jeff. They'd all been awfully good to him, as had John Murphy. And Ben. Don't forget Ben. Maybe his friendship with Jenelli would develop in the same positive way. Time would tell. Now, however, it was time for him to drive to the hospital--where he looked forward to seeing Cheryl as well as getting his wound dressed.

* * * * *

It was late that afternoon when Jenelli called. "Oh, Jim!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement, "I had the most wonderful experience today!"

"How's that?" Jim asked.

"You know that George arranged for me to meet with an attorney."

"Yes."

"Well, when I saw her, I recognized her as someone who had spoken to a group of Christian businesswomen I used to belong to."

"Very interesting."

"Oh, yes, very interesting, indeed. I told her that I'd heard her speak and that I'd appreciated her message. Oh, Jim. It was so wonderful to discover that the attorney George recommended is a Christian."

"Um-hmm. How did your meeting with her go?"

"Oh, just wonderful, but before I tell you about that, let me tell you about the second wonderful thing that happened to me today."

"Okay."

"Well, after I met with the attorney, I had a chance to talk with George, and I thanked him for guiding me to a Christian attorney."

"Um-hmm."

"And George told me that he and Kay have always done their best to associate with and employ Christians. Well, to make a long story short, we got to talking and I found out what I should already have known. George and Kay are Christians!" Jenelli's voice radiated her excitement.

"Yes, they are Christians," Jim replied. "They're very fine people. In fact, I was rather hoping that you could get better acquainted with them."

"Oh, Jim, I do want to get better acquainted with them."

"Um-hmm. How did your meeting go with the attorney?"

"Oh, Jim," Jenelli responded, "I couldn't have asked for a better attorney. I mean, not only is she a Christian, but she has the professional experience to represent me against these people who want to get their hands on Tony's assets."

"Good."

"Oh, it won't be easy," Jenelli continued. "She can't work miracles, and what's been done is done. My guess is that the house and furnishings and my car will be sold to pay on Tony's debts. I say 'my car' but it was registered in Tony's name, so they'll get it. But my attorney will handle the paperwork for me and she will try to salvage what she can. That's the best I can hope for. Of course, the bank Tony managed is another deal. The bank examiners have shut it down while they go over the books. She won't be involved in that mess, but George is keeping an eye on that bank."

"Right." Jim knew that George was keeping a very close eye on that bank as a possible acquisition. "Will you have a chance to buy back the house or any of the furnishings?"

"Maybe, but aside from my personal things, I don't want a thing. I . . . I just want to forget the past and get on with the future." She almost said "our future" but caught herself in time. This wasn't the time to build that hope into the conversation–or was it? "Oh, and there's something else, Jim."

"What's that?"

"I had a call from Kay Henry just after I got back to my hotel room."

"Um-hmm?"

"She's invited you and me to have dinner with her and George and a few other people at their house tomorrow evening. Can . . . I mean . . . well," Jenelli stammered before she asked, "Would . . . Would you like to do that?"

"Sure, if you would."

"Oh, Jim, of course, I would!" Jenelli exclaimed. "And the hotel has a babysitting service for Alycia. I'll call Kay back a little later and accept her invitation."

"Good. Tell her I'll be there, too."

"I will. Oh, Jim?"

"Yes?"

Jenelli giggled. "Kay said she knew that you'd be agreeable, so she went ahead and made arrangements to have George pick me up. I . . . I hope that was okay with you."

"Um-hmm, it is, and Jenelli?"

"Yes?"

"You're going to be wanting a car for yourself, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but I've got to have George help me get my finances in order first. I mean, a car's a major purchase."

"I know, but I've got an idea. You see, Billy and Jeff are car buffs. Between them, they own half a dozen vehicles, mostly antiques or classics. They like looking at cars, including new ones as well as older ones. You make arrangements with Tracy for them to take you shopping for a new car, and I'll pay for it. Get yourself a nice one. You can pay me back later."

"Jim? I . . . I . . . ." Jenelli's voice choked up. "I . . . I'm sorry."

"It's okay, but you don't have to be sorry about anything."

"Jim, I like your offer of a new car, but you've . . . you've given so much to me already."

"That's okay. You go ahead and find yourself a new car and--"

"But, I don't need a new car," Jenelli interrupted. "I'd be content and happy with a reliable used one."

Jim was skeptical. After all, he'd seen the mansion where Jenelli lived, and in that neighborhood everyone traded cars every year, sometimes more often, trying for a more expensive and showy one each time to impress the neighbors. "Are you sure? You've always had a fine new car to drive."

Jenelli sensed Jim's skepticism. "Of course, I'm sure. Oh, Jim, I'm not so impressed with expensive cars that I've got to have one. Believe me, I'm just as happy with a reliable used one."

"Then you need a couple of car buffs to help find you a good one. In fact, it may be that Billy or Jeff already has an eye out for a car for you."

* * * * *

It was time for Jim to get back to work in his mine. He didn't have to work the mine for an income now, of course, not like he had to in the past, but the fact was that he still enjoyed working in the mine.

His shoulder still hurt and he knew he wasn't going to work very hard or long in the mine, but he'd spend some time there, nonetheless. Ben instinctively knew what Jim was going to do, so he happily followed Jim down those steep steps and through the tunnel leading to the silver mine.

Jim worked slowly that morning, enjoying the underground quietness as he always did. The time passed quickly and before he realized just how long he'd been in the mine, Ben barked to let him know it was time for both of them to eat.

And then it was time for some much needed rest before he got ready to drive to the Henry's for dinner.

* * * * *

Jenelli's first glimpse of the Henry's longhorn cattle told her that she was in for a number of new experiences that evening. The cattle were feeding on hay in small fenced pastures to either side of the lane that led to the log house where the Henry's lived. She'd never seen live cattle up close before, let alone the sturdy longhorn breed. And George kept them for a hobby, albeit, she correctly guessed, a very profitable one! Amazing!

Stepping into the Henry's small log house was, for Jenelli, like stepping back in time. It was furnished quite simply with sturdy furniture made from rough-hewn lumber with relatively few frills. Most of all, the house looked "lived-in" and not maintained to impress people.

Several mid-sized and large oil paintings on the walls maintained the Western theme. One was of cowboys herding a large herd of longhorn cattle. Another depicted an old-fashioned gold mine in which the ore-wagon was being drawn by donkeys. Still a third picture depicted an early settler's cabin.

Jenelli was quite taken with the paintings. After she'd greeted Kay and George, she stood admiring them. She had studied art herself, although her's was a degree in commercial art and not focused on oil painting, and she recognized the rich colors blended with shadows as well as the realism portrayed in each painting. These paintings did not depict a glorified "Hollywood Wild West" but were so real it seemed as if she might easily step right into one of the pictures, and be transported back 140 years in time. And then she noticed the author's initials, "KH," circled on the canvas in the form of a cattle brand.

Kay noticed Jenelli's attraction to the paintings and came to stand beside her. "You did those, didn't you, Kay?" Jenelli asked.

"Yes."

"I love them! They're simply wonderful!" Jenelli exclaimed.

Kay graciously thanked Jenelli for her compliment, then took her arm. "Dinner's ready," she said. "Come with me. I'll tell you about the pictures later if you're interested." With that, Kay escorted Jenelli to the table she'd set for four.

Jim was there, all right. With her interest riveted on Kay's paintings, Jenelli hadn't heard him come in. "Oh, Jim!" she exclaimed, "I've been looking at Kay's paintings. Aren't they just wonderful?"

"Yes, they are." He paused a moment. "These are both simply wonderful people. Not only is Kay an extremely talented artist as well as a geologist, but George is a suburb artist in his own right, as well as well as a top-notch banker and businessman."

Jenelli looked to George. "I . . . I'm amazed. What kind of artistic work do you do?"

George smiled. "I make jewelry."

Jim chuckled. "Yeah, you make jewelry! Like how many of your pieces did the governor wear at her inaugural celebration last year?"

Before George could answer, Kay came from the kitchen with the roast beef and potatoes she'd prepared. "Time to eat, guys," she said. "Before we do, though, George, would you ask the blessing."

* * * * *

"They're wonderful people!" Jenelli echoed Jim's statement of last evening as she talked with him the following morning. "They're very talented, too!" she added.

"Yes, they both are wonderful and talented," Jim agreed, "but then, so are you."

Jenelli's giggle retained a hint of pleased embarrassment. She was glad Jim couldn't see her blush. "Oh, Jim, I'm . . . I'm glad you think so."

"Well you are. You've won at least three top-notch awards for your advertising art while you've been working for Allen and Beam, three that I know of, that is. And two of those awards were in international competition."

"Yes, I have won some awards for my work. Only it seems like nobody much ever noticed outside of a few people at the company. Maybe that was because everyone focused on Tony's many achievements instead of mine."

"Perhaps so, but I'd say you impressed George and Kay–and me."

"You know, I wasn't trying to impress them--or you."

"I know, but with people like George and Kay, you don't have to down-play your achievements. They aren't threatened by people who have talents and know how to use them. After all, as Crystal used to say, Christians ought to be the best they can be at whatever they do."

"Yes, I'd agree with that, and Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

"You've known all along that George and Kay are Christians, but you didn't tell me."

"No, I didn't tell you, but then they don't go around shouting 'I'm a Christian, look at me.' And I tend to go on how people act, not what they say about themselves, anyway. George and Kay have always been square and honest and kind to me, while some people who've promoted themselves as religious, well, they haven't been honest with me at all."

"I know that's true, Jim. What people do speaks so loudly that nobody can hear what they say, right?"

"Right."

"I'm not saying that non-Christians can't do good things, Jim," Jenelli continued, "but there's a special motivation for Christians to do things, the motivation to be like Jesus."

"I understand that. Crystal used to say that good works won't get a person into Heaven, but once a person accepts Jesus, the good works should follow as evidence of that acceptance. Do you agree?"

"Oh, absolutely. The Bible says in Ephesians 2:8 that Jesus saves us by his grace. But then, once we are saved, James 2:18 tells us that we are to show our faith by our works.

Jenelli had called at nine o'clock. It was twelve-thirty by the time they wished each other a good day. Jenelli had been determined to focus on Jim's need to rededicate his life to Jesus, but she didn't want to push him. And she felt thrilled that Jim remembered the things from the Bible that Crystal had taught him years ago. You don't have to preach at Jim, Jenelli told herself, because Crystal already opened the door for him to understand how faith in Jesus works. She'd pray for him, of course, pray for him and for herself. After all, despite the horrible things she'd been through the past few weeks, she knew that God was still in control, that He'd sent Jim and the others into her life, and that in the end things would work to His glory if she kept loving and serving Him.

* * * * *

Jim's telephone rang shortly after he finished lunch. It was Kay. "Just checking in on you, Jim," she told him after they exchanged greetings. Then Kay giggled. "Your phone was busy all morning, so I figured Jenelli already was checking in with you."

"You're right. It was Jenelli," Jim acknowledged. "We talked a long time. She really enjoyed getting to know you and George, and I'll thank you again for inviting us. You're special people, and I hope you know I mean that."

"I know you do, and you have to know that we think highly of both you and Jenelli as well," Kay replied. "So, how is your shoulder?"

"It still hurts when I put a little strain on it, but it's feeling better. I'll go in to the hospital again tomorrow and have them change the bandage. I thought the last time I went in would be the last, but they said no."

"I'm glad they're taking good care of you. Um, Jim?"

When Kay used that tone of voice, something was up. "Um-hmm?"

"I felt a little sorry for Jenelli. She's never been out in the rugged country east of here, out to what George and I think is the most beautiful place on earth. I'm thinking about taking her out to see our mine tomorrow afternoon, and I'd like for you to be along."

Jim chuckled. "Um, Kay? Are you being a matchmaker?"

Kay giggled mischievously. "You bet I am. I'm glad you and Jenelli got together, even though you took a roundabout way to get together, I must admit. She's a fine woman, and you know both George and I think you're tops. You do like her, don't you? I mean, the two of you just talked for well over two hours."

"Kay?" Jim's voice let her know that he was serious now.

"Yes."

"I do like Jenelli, and I'm sure she likes me. There's one hitch, though, and, well, I don't know . . . ." Jim's voice trailed off.

"A hitch? What kind of a hitch?" Kay questioned.

"Jenelli's a Christian. You know that."

"Right."

"One of the first times we talked, she asked if I was a Christian. So, I told Jenelli how I used to be a Christian, back when Crystal was with me, and how I . . . well, turned my back on God after He let Crystal die in that fire."

"So?"

"So Jenelli wants me to, how would she put it, get back into fellowship with God."

Kay didn't hesitate. "Well, Jim, so do I."

Kay's words surprised Jim. "You do!"

"Sure. We all do. I've been praying for you, praying that you'd put your trust back in Jesus like you had it when Crystal was alive."

"That'll be hard for me to do."

"No, Jim, really it won't."

"Wow! You don't think so?"

"Jim, all you have to do is bow your head and ask Jesus to forgive you for turning your back on Him," Kay responded. "Ask Him to help you focus on the future, your future, and guide you into what He has in store for you. Maybe He brought Jenelli into your life for a purpose. I don't know what that purpose is, of course, but maybe He wants the two of you to get closer and closer . . . ." Jim could feel the warm smile creep into Kay's voice. ". . . and closer."

"Do you think God would take me back after all these years?" Jim questioned.

"Sure He would. He'd welcome you back into what Christians call 'fellowship' with Him. All you have to do is ask Him. And you know something else, Jim?"

"What's that?"

"Crystal would be proud of you."

"She would? Do you really think so?"

"I sure do. From what I've heard, she was a wonderful Christian. I'm sure she's up there in Heaven right now, and I know she'd be happy if you'd put your hand in Jesus's hand and walk with Him." Kay paused a moment. "I'm sorry, Jim. Here I am being preachy, and I don't intend to preach at you. It's just that we, that's George and I, both love you as a brother in Christ. And, to put it bluntly, I believe Jenelli loves you in Jesus, too."

Jim wasn't sure how to respond so he simply said, "Thanks, Kay. I do appreciate your being kind to Jenelli, and I do accept your offer to ride out to your mine tomorrow."

"Great!" Kay sounded elated that he would go with them. "I'll get back with you about the details, and Jim?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to be praying awfully hard for you to make the right decisions–about everything you have to make decisions about." He'd know exactly what she meant, of that Kay was certain.

Jim felt the warmth in Kay's voice. Somehow he just had to say to her what he was thinking, silly as it might sound. "Kay, I . . . I don't want you to misinterpret this, but . . . but I . . . I love you."

"Thanks, Jim," Kay replied, "and in the same way, I love you, too."
CHAPTER 20

Jenelli had never been back into the rugged country to the east of the city, nor had she ever seen a gold mine under development. Even though she enjoyed the beautiful scenery to be seen from this access road, her thoughts were even more focused on the man seated beside her in the back seat of George's Jeep Wrangler. He was oh so handsome! His very closeness was attraction enough for her to want to throw her arms around him, and feel his arms tight around her in response. In fact, she told herself, she felt just like a schoolgirl on a date with the most handsome hunk in school, a little scared, but wanting him to hold her tight nonetheless. There had been a boy in high school who'd given her the same thrill and . . . . Those memories were sweet!

Once they reached the mine, though, and Jim helped her from the Jeep, she was thoroughly astounded at the mining process. Jim was beginning to explain the various activities to her when the mining engineer came over and motioned George and Kay aside. "I want to talk to you!" he exclaimed.

"What's up?" George asked.

"Let me show you what we discovered a little ways down the creek." The engineer chuckled. "Come on. It's just a little walk."

The engineer took off walking, almost scrambling in his haste, George and Kay right behind him, with Kay motioning over her shoulder for Jim and Jenelli to come along with them.

Jim grabbed Jenelli's hand. "Let's go!"

"Where . . . Where are we . . . Where are we going?" Jenelli gasped, trying to keep up with Jim.

Jim slowed down, realizing that Jenelli was not used to climbing over rocks, exposed tree roots, and rough terrain. Furthermore, she wasn't dressed well for that adventure. "Let's just take it easy, Jenelli," he said."We'll catch up with them." She gripped his hand tightly now to steady herself. He was so strong! "As to where we're going," Jim continued, "I don't know. The engineer wants to show us something. Knowing him, it'll be something that's very interesting."

The group followed the engineer for several hundred yards down the creek bank, making their way over jagged rocks, and around boulders, twisted tree roots, and scrub trees that seemed intent on blocking their trail. Finally, however, the engineer stopped, and everyone else caught up with him. "Right over there!" He pointed excitedly to where water was flowing. "Take a look in that spring."

Up ahead of the group was a small, flowing spring. Neither George or Kay remembered it as being there. Perhaps the mining activity had started it flowing. At any rate, at the bottom of the spring were what appeared to be a number of shiny pebbles. "Know what those are?" the engineer asked.

Kay would have rolled up her sleeves and reached into the water to retrieve some of the pebbles, but the engineer stopped her. "Here are a few I fished out earlier," he explained. "I didn't think you'd want to get into that cold water." He handed several of the pebbles to her.

She examined the shiny pebbles carefully. A smile flickered across her face. "I think I know what they are," she said.

The engineer grinned. "I'll bet you do. I think I do, too."

Kay showed the pebbles to George, then passed them to Jim. "What do you think, Jim?" she asked.

Jim carefully examined the pebbles. "I'd say you just found the fabled Grishim's source of silver." He turned to the engineer. "Do you think these pebbles are silver?"

"Yep, as best as I can tell without a genuine assay, I'd say they're nearly pure silver," the engineer replied. "Now what's the story of Grishim's silver that you referred to?"

"I'll tell you what I've read," Jim began. "Back in the early 1800s, a man named Grishim had a cabin around here somewhere on Sycamore Creek. He was a silversmith, and was rumored to have a source of almost pure silver nuggets. One day his body was found, and from the looks of things, he'd lost a fight with a mountain lion. People searched, but nobody ever found the source of his silver nuggets.

"Sometime later," Jim continued, "maybe in the early 1900s, a man got lost while hunting in this area. When he went to get a drink from a spring, he saw shiny pebbles on the bottom. He picked a few out to take with him, but didn't think to have them assayed for a number of years. When he did have them assayed, they proved to be essentially pure silver.

"Once he determined that the pebbles were silver, the man and several of his friends went looking for the spring–to no avail. I'd say you just found the spring."

"Jim?" Kay spoke up.

"Um-hmm?"

"You said this man Grishim was a silversmith, right?"

"That's the story, anyway."

"So, if he was working with silver, do you suppose he buried a hoard of silver somewhere nearby?"

Jim grinned and nodded. "I'd guess so. It'd be worth looking for."

George spoke up. "So, we're looking for a cache of silver as well as a potential silver mine."

The engineer chuckled. "Yep. Get yourself into town with a few of these pebbles and stake out a claim. We're all going to be rich if we keep finding gold and silver like we've done the past few days."

Jenelli had been clinging tightly to Jim's arm to steady herself on the creek bank. "Jim?" she whispered, clutching his arm even more tightly. "Jim?"

He leaned toward her. "Um-hmm?"

"Are there . . . Are there any . . . any mountain lions . . . around here . . . now?" As she was speaking, Jenelli kept glancing nervously around and over her shoulder.

"I don't know," Jim replied. He turned to George. "Are there any mountain lions around here now?"

"Jim!" It was Kay's reproving voice.

"Um-hmm?"

"Are you trying to scare Jenelli with this talk of mountain lions?"

"Oh no, don't blame Jim," Jenelli broke in, not wanting anyone to blame Jim for scaring her as she clung to him. "I just asked him if there were any mountain lions around here now." She turned to Kay. "But you're right. I was a little scared. Well, maybe I still am!"

Kay shook her head. "Not to worry, Jenelli. There probably are a few mountain lions around, but mostly they leave us alone. That is, if we leave them alone, they leave us alone."

Jim turned to Jenelli. She looked so vulnerable, so beautiful, and he was tempted to take her in his arms. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. You stick with us and you'll be okay. We won't let any mountain lions get you."

Jenelli grinned up at him. "I'll be honest. You had me a little scared for a moment. But you'll protect me, right?" She giggled as she squeezed his arm. He was so handsome! So protective!

* * * * *

Jim had been home for less than ten minutes when his telephone rang. It was Jenelli. "Jim," she began, once they'd exchanged greetings, "I want you to know how thrilled I was to be with you this afternoon."

"Well, thank you. I enjoyed the afternoon, too."

"I mean it, Jim," she continued. "I felt like a giddy teenager on a date with the most handsome guy in school. I mean, I've not felt so happy in my entire life as I was this afternoon with you."

"I'm glad you enjoyed the afternoon." It was not a great response and he felt a little embarrassed, but it was all he could think of on the spur of the moment. Furthermore, he didn't want to say anything just then that he might regret later.

Jenelli didn't seem to notice anything lame about his response. "Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

George and Kay are such wonderful people."

"I agree."

"I mean, there they are with plenty of money, and they're so unpretentious, yet they seem to be enjoying life and having a good time. It's hard for me to understand."

"Hard to understand?"

"Yes" Jenelli replied, "I guess the only people I've known who had lots of money wanted to show it off."

"Oh, I see what you mean. Well, George and Kay have some unique ways of spending money. They're not just hoarding it up, and the things they do with their money do bring them a great deal of pleasure."

"No, I'm sure they're not just hoarding their money." Jenelli paused a moment, then continued, "But what do they do with their money that brings them the pleasure you mentioned? They certainly don't seem to be spending it on themselves."

"No, they don't spend a lot of money on themselves. Instead they anonymously support several projects through their church."

"Church projects?" Jenelli questioned. "You mean like missionaries or ministries or charities of some sort?"

"I don't know about the specific projects they support, but you know the kind of things I mean, right?"

"Yes, I think so. And they do this anonymously?"

"Um-hmm," Jim replied. "Unlike a lot of people, they don't seek the credit for what they do."

"That's amazing! I guess the people I've known who supported something wanted to be known for having done so. Um, Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

"I've got to start getting my life back together. Much as I enjoy living here in the hotel, I can't go on living here forever. When I think about how much I'm costing someone, well, . . . ." Jenelli's voice trailed off.

"You don't--" Jim began.

Before Jim could respond, however, she continued. "I've got to find a place to live, get some regular care for Alycia, get back to work so I'll have some income, all those things, and it's simply overwhelming."

"I can understand that."

"Can we talk about possibilities for me?"

"Sure. That is, I can listen, but if you want some real counsel, you need someone like George who has experience in the modern business world and has contacts all over. I can't offer much in the way of advice myself."

"Oh, Jim. Maybe I'll want to talk to George later, but right now, I need you." Although the thought was uppermost on her mind, Jenelli couldn't bring herself to tell Jim that she hoped that a big part of her future revolved about him. That would have to come later, if at all. Jenelli sighed then, realizing that Jim might not be a part of her future. Still . . . .

"I'm here to listen, okay." Jim's reassuring statement brought her back to the present.

* * * * *

Following her conversation with Jim, Jenelli made plans for herself. She'd have to go back to work, at least part-time in order to be independent, and she wasn't about to become a long-term moocher. But Jim had given her an idea she wanted to explore with her boss at Allen and Beam: Perhaps part of her work could be done at home, using her computer. That would let her work, at least part of the time, from home, and she could have Alycia with her.

Of course, she'd have to buy a new computer. Whoever had broken into her home not long ago had taken hers. Maybe her company would have one she could use. She'd inquire about that.

The people who provided baby sitting services at the hotel where she was living also operated a nearby day care center, and they assured Jenelli that Alycia would be welcome there. They could take care of the little girl when Jenelli had to go in to her office to work.

And George had recommended an apartment complex not far from the hotel. Jenelli would go visit with the manager there. She'd made arrangements for Billy and Jeff to go looking at cars. They'd take her by the apartment complex on the way. Things were beginning to happen--and fast!

The discussion with Jim had indeed helped clarify her thinking about her immediate future, except for one thing–Jim. What his part was to be in Jenelli's future would have to be the subject of a great many of her prayers. He had been so good both to her and for her daughter. In fact, she felt like she'd known him forever, although in reality it only had been a few weeks.

* * * * *

There was voice-mail from Kay waiting for Jim when he finished talking to Jenelli: "Please call me, Jim." Moments later, Jim dialed Kay's number.

"Hi, Jim." Kay always was so cheerful, a characteristic reflected in the way she answered her phone. Jim had wished many times that he had her vibrant energy and zest for life.

"Hi, Kay."

Kay giggled. "You must have been talking to Jenelli."

"Right. How'd you ever guess?"

"Woman's intuition." Kay's voice softened. "Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

"You know that Thanksgiving is coming up."

"Um-hmm?"

"Our church is having a Thanksgiving dinner. There'll be a lot of good food there, and the dinner will be followed by a really neat musical performance. I've invited Jenelli, and I wanted to invite you to go with us."

Jim hesitated ever so slightly, and Kay sensed his hesitation. "I'd sure like for you to go with us, Jim. There won't be anything pushy or preachy, just a good meal and a good time. It's Thanksgiving, to be sure, but the musical group is humorous as well as serious. I know you'd enjoy the program. Can I count you in?"

"That's going to be hard for me, Kay. You know that."

"Yes, I know that." Kay wasn't about to give up on her invitation.

"The last time I was in church was for . . . for . . . for her funeral."

"Yes, Jim. I know, but this isn't like a formal church service, this is for a good time among friends. And believe me, Jim, there will be friendly people there. Besides, it is Thanksgiving, and we all have many, many things to be thankful for."

"Well . . . ."

Kay prayed hard while Jim hesitated.

"Well, okay," he finally managed. "Count me in."

Although Jim couldn't see her, Kay was smiling happily. One of her prayers had just been answered. "Good. I'm so glad that you're going with us. We'll pick you up."

* * * * *

Walking into that church was especially hard on Jim because it brought back a host of memories of Crystal and the good times they'd had together in a relatively small church similar to this one. He'd been so proud to be with her. Still, the people Jim met that night were friendly, and there was genuine warmth to be felt there, the warmth of people who shared a common faith and cared about one another. In spite of his earlier misgivings, Jim found himself enjoying the evening.

Jenelli, too, enjoyed herself. She, like Kay, had prayed that Jim would go with them, and she found herself staying close by his side throughout the evening. In fact, although Jenelli had never attended church there, she felt perfectly at home. She liked the pastor and determined that it was a church she could easily become involved in. She'd be attending there from now on, she told herself, and she sincerely hoped Jim would also.

The musical program was excellent. The group sang several traditional Thanksgiving songs as well as a variety of contemporary Christian music. And there was a dramatic skit produced by the youth group. In fact, it was at a particularly dramatic moment during that skit when Jenelli grabbed Jim's hand, and then their eyes met–radiating happiness and love for each other!

All too soon the activities of the evening were over. Now it was time for both Kay and Jenelli to pray that Jim would continue to attend church with them and eventually return to complete fellowship with God.

* * * * *

Back home the following day, Jim went to work in his mine. His shoulder was healed well enough that he could flex it and not risk damage or pain, and he was eager to get the exercise through working in the mine that would help return it to normal.

Jenelli would be busy that day, starting to get her life back to a semblance of normal. It wouldn't be easy, and Jim wished there were some way he could help her. Of course, he guessed he'd helped her by listening to her plans a few nights ago. At least, she'd thanked him for listening and said it had helped her thinking. Beyond that . . . ? Wait, there was something else he could do. Something she'd asked him to do. He could pray for her. And he did. Then and there.

Kay had been right, of course. He did have many things to be thankful for. Maybe he should thank God for those things, too, starting with the wonderful friends he had. There was George and Kay, Tracy, Billy, Jeff, John, and, of course, Jenelli. And Cheryl. He couldn't forget Cheryl.

He had other friends who had been good to him, too, and he'd met some very nice people at the church dinner. Some of the people he'd met would eventually become his friends. At least, he could hope so. Yes, God had been good to him, and he was thankful.

Right then and there in his mine, Jim bowed his head and thanked God for his friends, naming them each in turn, and then thanked God for the many things he'd enjoyed doing over the past year, including the work in his mine. That was his greatest pleasure.

But would God forgive him for turning his back on him these many years? That question troubled Jim.

* * * * *

When Jim came up from working in his mine that evening there were three voice-messages waiting for him on his telephone. The first was from Kay, her voice bubbly with excitement: "Hi, Jim. I'm celebrating today and tomorrow. Please call me." The second was from Jenelli, her voice also keyed with excitement: "Hi, Jim. Just calling to say that I've had a wonderful day and hope that you did, too. Please call me." The third was from George, his voice almost a chuckle: "Hi, Jim. I need to talk with you in person. How about eleven o'clock tomorrow?"

Jim returned George's call and assured him that eleven o'clock tomorrow would be fine. Once they'd agreed to meet, George added, "By the way, Kay's celebrating today and tomorrow, but I'm going to let her tell you about that. Anyway, she wants to take us to lunch tomorrow after we finish talking. Will that work for you?"

"Sure. I'll plan to go with you. Thanks, George."

Now to call Kay. Jim could sense the happiness in her voice when she answered the phone. "Hi, Jim! How are you?"

"I'm fine, and you're celebrating! Tell me about it."

"Oh, Jim, the gallery in New York that is showing my paintings called. They've sold another one for me!" Jenelli exclaimed.

"Isn't that wonderful! I knew you had the talent to be a great artist the very first time I saw your work."

"Jim?" Kay was serious now.

"Um-hmm?"

"You were the only one other than George who encouraged me when I started painting in earnest a few years ago. Some people told me to give it up because I wasn't very good, that I was wasting my time, but you kept after me to keep painting. I've never forgotten just how much your encouragement meant to me."

"Well, thanks," Jim acknowledged her compliment, "but it is you who have the talent, Kay, and I'm very proud of you."

"I'm very serious," Kay responded. "Your encouragement meant a lot to me. Believe me, Jim, it did. You told me my paintings were good and that people would pay nicely for them, but I still can't believe how much people actually will pay for one of my paintings. In fact, the man at the gallery who called with the good news says he has other buyers interested in my paintings and that I should, in his words, 'get to work!'"

Jim chuckled. "I hope you'll do just that, Kay. Oh, by the way, George tells me you want to celebrate by taking us to lunch tomorrow after we talk."

"I sure do, and by the way, 'us' includes Jenelli–and, Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

"I'm so glad you went with us to the Thanksgiving service."

"I'm glad I went, too."

"Now, I've got something else up my sleeve that'll interest you."

"You do?"

"Yep."

"Tell me about it."

"A few weeks ago, an elderly lady who attends our church came to one of the women's breakfasts. Her name is Fern, and she's 95 years old. Anyway, while she was there, we got to visiting, and she had a very interesting tale to tell, one that I know will interest you.

"So," Kay continued, "I will be inviting her to dinner at our house, probably tomorrow evening, and I'd like you to be there, too."

"That I can do. Want to tell me about the lady's story?"

"Ummm, no!"

"Kay, you're teasing me."

"Yep."

"Give me a little hint?"

Kay giggled. "Ummm, no!"

Jim faked a sigh. "Oh, my! Well, I'll see you tomorrow noon and evening."

"Yep. I'll call you if anything changes. No! Just come on over. If the lady in question can't make it, well, we'll have a chance to visit."

What could this elderly lady have to say that would especially interest him? Regardless, knowing Kay, tomorrow promised to be an interesting day.

Now to find out what Jenelli had been doing that day.

* * * * *

The following morning, Jim drove to the mall parking lot where he and George usually "conducted business." George was there as promised, his Jeep parked inconspicuously near a large truck when Jim arrived.

George greeted Jim with a smile, and as was his usual habit, got directly to the point: "I wanted to keep you informed about one of your investments, Jim. You remember how Eric and Benny were on their way to Argentina and Brazil to look for Nazi loot?"

"Right. They'd found a diary kept by one of the Nazi soldiers who helped hide the treasure."

"Yep. Well, guess what. They found the Argentina stash without any trouble. It was right where that diary indicated it would be. They're out of Argentina, and they're bringing your share up this way. It should arrive the first of next week."

"Are there any problems?"

"No, not now that we've bought that bank I showed you the other day. We'll stash your share of the loot in the vault there. I'll let you know when it comes in, and we'll go take a look at it."

"Good. Will Benny and Eric be staying long enough to talk with us?"

"I don't think so. They're eager to get back to Brazil. They figure that one's going to be tougher and they're eager to get started searching for it." George looked at his watch. "We'd better be going. Kay wants us to meet her at the restaurant right about now."

Kay and Jenelli already were seated in the restaurant when George and Jim arrived. Kay smiled. "Order whatever you'd like, guys," she exclaimed, her brown eyes sparkling, once they'd exchanged greetings, "because this treat's on me!"

Kay obviously was elated over the sale of yet another of her paintings. Even so, she had other wonderful things to share with the group. After they'd finished eating, she retrieved several small pebbles from her purse and handed them across the table to Jim. "Remember where we got these?"

Jim grinned. "Yes."

Kay lowered her voice. "Well, I had them assayed. They're almost pure silver, just like we thought. The mining engineer said he thinks there's a lot more silver in that area. He's going to do some excavating. At a minimum, he's fished out a quart jar full of these pebbles from that little spring."

"Great!" Jim whispered. "And you're still looking for the silversmith's hoard."

"Right," Kay replied. "Oh, and to change the subject, I'm expecting both of you tonight." She motioned toward Jim and then Jenelli. "If this lady I told you about will tell her story, you'll be in for quite a treat."
CHAPTER 21

"My grandfather came to this country as a little boy in the 1850s," the elderly woman began, her voice quavering just a little as she spoke. "My father was born in 1883," she continued, "and Grandfather passed this story on to him when he was old enough to understand about it. Father, in turn, passed it on to me."

Fern paused and looked to Kay, George, Jim, and Jenelli in turn to be sure they were following her before she continued. "Grandfather heard this story when he was a young man, so it's an old, old story." Fern hesitated.

Kay spoke up. "Yes, it certainly is. That makes it all the more interesting!"

Fern leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. "As the story goes, there was a druggist who came out here. I don't know exactly when he arrived here, but he was here before Grandfather got here in the 1850s. His name was Conway, Doctor Conway. He established a drugstore up where there were some other businesses way out east on Sycamore Creek--a regular little community there.

"There's nothing there now," she continued, "but there still was a resident or two in the late 1800s." She paused, thinking. "I'll try to get this all straight, but sometimes I don't remember things so well," she explained, apologetically.

"You're doing fine," Kay encouraged her.

"Anyway, as the story goes, this druggist loved a young lady," Fern continued. "I don't know her name. Guess it isn't really important. He loved her dearly, but she didn't love him. That's the way it goes, sometimes, you know. He asked her to marry him, begged her really, but she refused.

"After the young lady rejected him, the druggist became a recluse. Closed his drug store and lived in a single room in the back of the store building. Wouldn't come out for days and days at a time. Didn't want anything to do with anybody.

"People got worried about him when they didn't see him for a long time. Finally, the sheriff broke into his building and they found him dead. They also found thousands of dollars in gold and silver coins scattered around."

Fern turned to Kay. "Now, this is the part that interested you the most. The story was that this druggist was very successful during the years before he became a recluse. The many thousands of dollars scattered around in his building was thought to be only a small part of his fortune.

"Now then," Fern continued, after a moments thought, "where was the rest of the druggist's fortune? You can bet that people searched all over for it. They dug up the ground around and under his drugstore, but they didn't find a thing. They tore down the entire drugstore building, but they didn't find anything hidden in the walls. Somebody remembered that Doctor Conway used to take long walks after dark out along the creek, so people hunted all along Sycamore Creek for his treasure, but they didn't find a thing." Fern looked around. "And that's all I know about Doctor Conway's missing treasure," she concluded abruptly.

Jim put down his note pad. "That's a very interesting story, Fern," he said.

Fern smiled. "Kay said you liked stories about buried treasures."

"Yes, I do."

"Do you think you could find Doctor Conway's treasure?"

"I don't know." Jim turned to Kay. "Do you and George know where the old drugstore was located?"

Kay thought for a moment. "No. There was a settlement about a mile or so up the creek from where we're mining. You can still see an old rock foundation or two and several piles of rubble that used to be buildings of some sort, but who knows exactly where the drugstore was located."

"Maybe we could find out," Jim suggested. "Let's go take a look around the area sometime."

Fern had been following the exchange, her eyes wide. Suddenly she laughed. "If you guys find that treasure, you remember who told you the story, okay?"

"You bet we will!" Kay exclaimed.

The elderly woman spoke up again: "I feel real sorry for Doctor Conway. He must have felt really bad to become a recluse like that, and he certainly didn't need to."

"Why do you say that?" Jim asked, hoping to encourage the woman, and perhaps learn more about the druggist and his treasure.

"Well," Fern explained, "I lost my best friend when I was twenty years old. He died in a car wreck, and I was just devastated. But God saw me through that, and He blessed me over and over again. I still don't know why God had to let him have that wreck, but . . . ." Fern's voice trailed off.

Kay broke the silence. "I'm sorry you lost your friend."

"Yes, it was terrible," Fern continued. "I couldn't understand it, and I ask God, 'Why me?' He didn't answer my question, but He saw me through."

Jenelli leaned forward. "So how did God work to see you through?"

The elderly woman closed her eyes and thought for a moment before she spoke: "You have to talk to God in times like that. He already knows that you're feeling awful. In First Peter 5:7, the Bible says we can cast all of our cares on Him. And don't think for a moment that the devil won't beat up on you. He'll tell you that God doesn't care about you, but the truth is that you belong to God and His word says that He does care about you. So, you have to trust Him.

"Then, too, you've got to count your blessings," she continued. "It's like I think about with Doctor Conway. He already had been blessed to have made a fortune and have a career as a druggist long before he started courting this girl. Then, instead of focusing on his blessings, he focused on the loss of his favored girl. And, who knows? God might have had another girl picked out for him if he'd just have looked around, maybe one he'd have loved more than the one who rejected him." She shrugged her shoulders. "Of course, maybe he didn't know God as his personal Savior.

"Anyway," Fern concluded, "you've got to trust God, count your blessings, and keep praying. Trust and prayer. That's always been what has seen me through the many sorrows I've had."

"Wow! Kay exclaimed. "That's quite a message!"

"Yes, it was," Jenelli added. "Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us."

Jim did not say anything, but he was thinking about what Fern had said. She just might be right, he whispered to himself. She just might be right. He, too, had been blessed in so many ways. Yes, he would try to pray that very night along the lines she had suggested.

As the group broke up for the night, Kay took Jim aside. "Looks like we have another treasure to search for, don't we?" she whispered, her eyes bright with anticipation.

Jim smiled back at her. "Yes, we sure do."

Kay led Jim even further away from the group. "Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

Kay lowered her voice even more. "I'm going to be praying for both you and Jenelli," she whispered.

Jim nodded in agreement. "Thank you."

"You know something, Jim?" Kay still was whispering.

"What's that?" Jim whispered.

Kay glanced around the room to be sure they were alone. "You like to hunt for gold and silver, but Jenelli just might be the most fabulous treasure you'll ever find." Before Jim could quite grasp the full implications of what Kay was saying, she continued, "And, Jim?"

"Um-hmm?"

"Will you consider attending church with us on Sunday?"

This time, Jim didn't hesitate. "Yes, I'll go with you."

* * * * *

Cheryl met Jim at the door to her apartment and smiled sweetly as she ushered him inside. He'd stopped by the florist shop on his way, and immediately handed her the small floral arrangement he'd purchased.

"Oh, Jim," she murmured, as she took the flowers, "you are so nice! Thank you!"

Once dinner was over, Jim suggested that he help her wash the dishes. "We can talk while we do them," he added.

"Okay."

"So, tell me about yourself," Jim began.

"I'm a country girl," Cheryl responded, then paused.

"Um-hmm?"

"I'm sorry, but it's a little difficult for me to talk about some of my earlier years."

"Heartaches?" Jim questioned.

"Yes."

"I've got some of those, too."

Cheryl took Jim's hand in hers. "You, too?"

"Yes."

"Can we share experiences?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then," Cheryl continued, "I lost my parents when I was eight years old. They were killed in a car wreck. So . . . I lived with relatives from then on."

Jim nodded his understanding.

"We lived over in the mountains." She gestured. "We were poor folk, but some of the best times of my life happened in those mountains."

"Tell me about them."

"Okay. It wasn't long after I was living with my uncle and aunt that he lost his job. The factory he'd worked at for years and years closed, and jobs were scarce around where we lived." She paused, then continued. "We always ate well, though, because my aunt had a big garden and my uncle did a lot of hunting and fishing. He took me with him, and those were happy times. Sometimes we'd take our camping gear and spend a night or two in those mountains. Several times we camped in caves. I enjoyed the out-of-doors, the hiking, seeing the sun rise and set. My uncle taught me about the stars, too, and how you could use them to find your way. He taught me how to build a campfire, and . . . and . . . am I boring you, Jim?" Cheryl straightened up, and looked at Jim, anxiously awaiting his response.

"Not at all." He reached out his hand for her. "Come here."

Cheryl took his hand. "We've finished the dishes," she said. "Come with me." Moments later, she led him to her living room and sat beside him on the sofa, studied his face for a moment and then continued.

"I guess you could say I was a regular tomboy. People teased me about that a lot. Does my being a tomboy make you not like me?"

Jim shook his had. "No, Cheryl, not in the least. I've always liked a girl who could take care of herself."

Cheryl grinned up at him, her eyes warm and glowing, then continued to tell Jim about her earlier experiences. "There was another person who was very important to me when I was growing up," she began, "and that was the pastor of the little church my family attended. She encouraged me to pursue my dreams, to go to college and, most of all, maybe, to believe in myself.

"You see," Cheryl continued, "when I graduated from high school, I wanted to go to college. There wasn't any money available from my aunt and uncle, but I was determined, and I worked my way through nursing school. And then, on one of the best days of my life, I met you," her eyes brightened as she smiled at him, clutching his hand in hers. "Now, tell me about yourself."

Jim slipped his arm around her shoulders and she moved close to him, her head now resting on his shoulder. "Okay," he said.

As he and Cheryl talked, Jim noticed something that especially interested him. Over the back of one of Cheryl's chairs was a beautifully crafted quilt. "Tell me about your quilt," he suggested, motioning toward it as he asked.

Cheryl smiled. "My aunt made that quilt," she replied, "and it passed to me when she passed away."

"An heirloom!" Jim responded. "Tell me about it."

"My aunt called it a Christmas quilt, because of the design." Cheryl moved to the chair displaying the quilt and held it so Jim could examine the design.

Jim studied the quilt for several moments. The design was quite lovely, and he noted that the stitching was seemingly flawless. Furthermore, the quilt was quite heavy, indicating that the batting was designed for warmth.

"I'd guess you actually used this quilt," Jim questioned.

"Oh, yes!" Cheryl exclaimed. "It kept me warm and toasty in the winters when I was a girl living with my aunt and uncle."

"It's absolutely beautiful!" Jim told her. He meant it.

Cheryl resumed her seat beside him. "Yes, it is beautiful," she replied, then studied his face for a long moment before she continued. "Would you like to see one that I made all by myself?" she asked.

"Of course."

Cheryl went into her bedroom and returned with a quilt of a design Jim had never seen before. "I call this a star quilt," she said. "Can you make out the stars?"

"A star quilt? Yes, I can see the stars in the pattern," Jim replied.

"I loved watching the stars on a clear night," Cheryl continued, "and this quilt reminds me of them."

"How old were you when you made this quilt?" Jim asked.

"Seventeen."

"Wow!" Jim examined the quilt closely. "This is really well made. You're really good."

Cheryl smiled. "Thank you." She hesitated a moment, then continued. "Actually, I loved making this quilt, and I'd like to make another." She grinned and snuggled close to Jim, then added. "And then another, and then another."

Jim studied her face for a moment. Cheryl had really become animated as she talked about her quilt and her interest in making yet another one. "I have a friend who's an artist, and I'd like for her to see your quilt," he told her.

* * * * *

It was much later that evening as Cheryl walked Jim to the door that she put her arm around his waist, hugged him for a long moment, and looked up at him, her eyes warm and moist. To Jim, she was simply beautiful. "I really enjoyed our time together this evening, Jim," she said, "and I hope we can get together again--and soon."

"So do I," Jim replied, "and next time it's my treat. Oh, and Cheryl, I mentioned that I have some friends I'd like for you to meet. Maybe we can have dinner together with them?"

"Yes. I'd love to meet your friends," Cheryl replied. Her eyes met his. "Will you call me? Please?"

Jim didn't hesitate one bit. "Yes."

* * * * *

"Things are working out for me to pay that Paterson woman a visit," the stocky man reported. "She's been looking at apartments. Her and the kid. Once she's moved in and is living by herself, I'll do just that--pay her a visit she won't ever forget!"

"Right. You let her know that her husband owed us a lot of money," his friend whispered. "He stashed it somewhere, and we want it back. Or else she's gonna end up like he did--black and blue and in the hospital for a good long time."

"She'll be black and blue when I finish with her, all right," the stocky man retorted. He smiled to himself as he relished the thought. "And then if she don't remember good for you after that first visit, she'll be more than black and blue when I get through with her the next time."
CHAPTER 22

Life slowly returned to normal for Jenelli over the next few days. Billy and Jeff helped her find an affordable car that she felt comfortable driving. They'd registered it through Jim's bank so that Tony's creditors couldn't lay claim to it. She and Alycia moved from the hotel suite into an apartment of their own. And she would be able to begin working from her apartment as a commercial artist again just as soon as her new computer and internet connection were ready.

Probably the hardest parts of her days were the hours she spent gathering her personal things from the large house where she and Tony had lived and moving them to her new apartment. Fortunately, Billy and Jeff had offered to help her move, and for their help she was most grateful.

Along with the work of moving, Jenelli found time to pray. She did not forget Fern's reminders to count her blessings, and she thanked God every day for the wonderful friends she'd recently met, but she also spent a great deal of time talking to Jesus about Jim. Was he the man for her? Or, did God have someone else in mind for her? Someone even better?

* * * * *

It was on her second day back at work while she was at her office in the Allen and Beam Advertising Agency building that Jenelli answered the phone to hear a voice she hadn't heard for years, the voice of her high school sweetheart, Kevin Baker. They'd dated regularly when they were in high school, but somehow drifted apart when Kevin, a year older than she, went off to a prestigious eastern university to study business administration, and she'd attended the nearby state university to study commercial art. It was there that she'd met Tony. Met and married him after they'd graduated from college.

"Remember me?" Kevin asked.

"Of course, I remember you," Jenelli replied. "Where are you?"

"I'm here in town on business, and wanted to touch base with you," Kevin replied. Was he ever smooth, just as he'd been in high school! "I was sorry to hear about Tony's accident. Are you getting along okay?"

"Thank you for your concern," Jenelli replied. "Tony's death was very hard on me, but I'm getting along okay." Somehow Kevin's voice sent the same thrills through her as it had years ago. She'd loved him then! Could he be the man God had in mind for her?

"I'd like to see you while I'm here. May I take you to dinner tonight?" Kevin asked.

Oh, my! He was asking her for a date? Would she somehow be disloyal to Jim if she went to dinner with Kevin? Jenelli hesitated, thinking, but only for a moment. It would be so good to see Kevin after all these years, and Jim wouldn't even need to know. Besides, Jim hadn't shown a great deal of interest in her. He hadn't asked her for a date. "I'd like to see you, too. Dinner would be nice," she accepted his offer, then told Kevin how to find her new apartment and arranged for him to pick her up at seven o'clock that evening.

She'd wear something really special that night. Yes, she'd wear the little black dress that Tony had really liked when he showed her off to his friends. She'd turned heads in that litle dress, and she and Tony both knew it. And, she'd enjoyed the attention, all right. She wouldn't deny that. Yes! Kevin would enjoy her best in that little black dress.

And thanks to Tracy and Jim, she now had her best and most expensive jewelry back from that pawn shop. She'd wear her most attractive jewelry for Kevin, too. That would catch his attention. Oh, my! Oh, my! Oh, my! She felt like a high school girl getting ready for her date with the most sought after guy in school.

She'd never have an occasion to wear that dress or the expensive jewelry if Jim asked her out. And she'd guess that his friends like Kay didn't even own clothes or jewelry like that she'd wear for Kevin. Perhaps she wasn't exactly suited to Jim's lifestyle of simple living. Those thoughts momentarily crossed Jenelli's mind, and she quickly repressed them. Tonight, she belonged to Kevin. It would be like old times. Wonderful times.

Jenelli knew that Kevin had done very well as an investment advisor and that he now managed millions of dollars for a number of wealthy individuals. Jenelli knew that because she'd read an article about him in a financial newsletter Tony subscribed to. Not that she'd told Tony she knew Kevin. Or that she and Kevin were high school friends. Well, sweethearts, really. That would have annoyed Tony no end.

The man standing at her door that evening was every bit as handsome as she remembered him. He was dressed the part of a wealthy investment advisor, too, in an immaculate three-piece suit and tie. There was a large diamond ring on his right hand, but no wedding band on his left hand. To Jenelli's knowledge, Kevin had married, but maybe he was divorced. Jenelli wasn't sure, and it really didn't make any difference–did it?

Kevin smiled warmly as he greeted Jenelli, then gently drew her into his arms. "You're absolutely beautiful!" he whispered, holding her close. Somehow, that warm embrace brought back the memories of those wonderful high school dates! Kevin had been so sophisticated even then.

When they were in high school, Kevin owned a yellow Corvette convertible. It was his 'pride and joy.' They used to put the top down and just ride and ride, the wind in their hair, the sun in their faces, having the time of their lives. Jenelli wasn't surprised to find that he still was driving a Corvette convertible, although she'd rather expected that he'd be driving an expensive exotic import.

The snugness of the sports car kept her close to Kevin as he drove them to one of the nicest restaurants in the city, a place she and Tony had been a few times when Tony had wanted to impress a client. The warmth of Kevin's nearness mesmerized Jenelli, bringing a host of memories of happy times spent with Kevin to consciousness. Yes, she admitted to herself, she'd been in love with him.

And Kevin had always had impeccable manners. That night he treated Jenelli wonderfully, attending to her every need as they visited and ate dinner together. Although they talked about many things, Kevin never once mentioned Tony's gambling problems. In fact, Jenelli was just a little sorry to find them finishing dinner, drawing the evening's pleasure to a close.

"Good food, wonderful conversation, and a beautiful companion for dinner! I loved being with you tonight, Jenelli," Kevin summarized his feelings as they were again seated in his Corvette. Turning toward her, his lips only inches from hers, he smiled and whispered, "Now, to make the evening complete, how about a little lovin'?"

Jenelli gasped. "A . . . A little loving? What do . . . ?" And then she realized where this conversation was headed.

"Sure, honey," Kevin replied, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "We can go to a nice hotel, have a drink at the lounge, and have the best time of our lives. It'll be the perfect end to a perfect evening. What do you say?"

* * * * *

The stocky, muscular man who'd been watching Jenelli's apartment saw her leave with the well-dressed businessman in his Corvette. He'd been watching Jenelli ever since she'd moved into the apartment, noting when she left, when she came home, when she took her daughter to the baby sitter, learning all he could about her regular activities. Tonight he recorded the license number of the Corvette her obviously well-healed boyfriend was driving. He'd find out who owned the car.

Tony Paterson hadn't owed him any money directly, but he'd owed Richard Claw a small fortune and now that Claw was in prison, it was up to him to get back what he could, and get revenge for what he couldn't get back. Claw had taken good care of him, paying him well to take care of several problems over the past few years, and now it was his turn to take good care of Richard Claw. Get revenge for what that man had done to him.

Besides, he enjoyed his work, had enjoyed teaching that hot-shot banker a lesson by beating him within an inch of his life–-and he'd enjoy beating that high-falutin wife of his until she came up with some serious money for them. The guy with the Corvette wouldn't want to see his sweety all beat up, now would he? The short man chuckled at that thought. No way! That guy showing up when he did just might have helped him get some real money out of beating up on Tony's widow.

He'd been patiently waiting for several days for the opportunity to check out Jenelli's apartment. Knowing that she would be away for the evening and perhaps all night on a date with the Corvette's hot-shot owner, he slipped his ski mask into his jacket pocket and stealthily entered the apartment building by the back entrance. The locks on Jenelli's door held no mysteries for him, and he quickly entered her apartment. Once inside, he memorized the floor-plan, then took his time looking around using only his small flashlight for illumination. There was a sturdy chair. That would work for his purpose. He could tie the boyfriend to that chair, then punch Jenelli a few times to show them he meant business, and that well-healed dude would come across with a ton of cash. He could almost taste the pleasure of punching the woman, punching her hard, getting a measure of revenge for Richard Claw. Maybe he'd take the dude's Corvette, too. Take it for a drive and then get rid of it. He knew a chop-shop that would pay well for it, pay in cash with no questions asked.

From the license plate on the Corvette, he knew that Jenelli's date was from out of town. Maybe he was an infrequent visitor to town. He'd find out who he was later. In the meantime, he'd arrange a little 'welcome home' party for the two of them. It really didn't matter who the guy was. After another stealthy tour of the apartment, he slipped on his ski mask and sat down near a window overlooking the parking lot where he could wait and watch for them.

* * * * *

"Well, what do you say, Jenelli, honey? A little lovin' to end the perfect evening?" Kevin repeated his desire.

"I . . . I'm sorry, Kevin. I . . . I'm not that kind of woman," Jenelli managed to reply, not wanting the evening to end that way, yet not wanting to go to a hotel with Kevin either.

"Aw, come on, sweetheart." Kevin put his arm around her shoulder. "We'll go to a really nice hotel, have a couple of drinks in the lounge, and then head on up for a little lovin'. You'll enjoy it, I promise, and I won't get you pregnant, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, Kevin. Please, no." Jenelli was stronger now. "I've enjoyed seeing you, but I think you'd better take me home now. I've got to pick up Alycia, and I've got a hard day at work coming up tomorrow."

"Well, okay." Kevin shrugged as he gave her a hug.

Kevin didn't seem perturbed with Jenelli's refusal to accompany him to a hotel. By the time they reached her apartment building, she was feeling much better toward him. After all, he was her high school sweetheart. They'd had a lot of good times together in the past. Maybe they could in the future, as well?

"Going to invite me in, aren't you, honey?" he asked as they approached her door.

* * * * *

"Who is that guy in the Corvette?" Billy Burke whispered the question into his telephone. He'd been monitoring the activity around Jenelli's apartment ever since she'd moved there, had seen the Corvette arrive and leave with Jenelli, and called the license number in to Tracy.

"The Corvette belongs to a guy named Kevin Baker," Tracy's reply came a few minutes later. "We're trying to find out something about him, including his relationship, if any, with Jenelli. Is he, by any chance, the enforcer we're watching for?"

"I doubt that he's the guy we're looking for," Billy responded. "He looks like a wealthy banker taking out his girlfriend. Dressed to kill. Three piece suit and all. I tailed them to that fancy restaurant over on Ohio Street and they're still there, having a great time as near as I can tell. Do you think we should alert Jim as to what's going on?"

"No," Tracy replied. "Let's wait until we check Baker out. This guy could be a client."

"Jenelli's client?" Billy snorted. "Not likely, not the way he had his arm around her when he helped her into his car and the way he's draped around her at the restaurant. I thought she was chasin' Jim, although I'm hopin' he goes for that nurse. Now, here Jenelle is out having a good time with another man. From the way they were carrying on, I wouldn't be surprised if they went straight to his hotel room. At least, I assume he has a hotel room, because the car's from out of state."

Billy could sense Tracy's frown. "Yeah, I thought she was chasin' Jim, too, but they're not engaged or anything like that, so you can't really say she's two-timing him. Besides, it would make Jim feel bad to know she's out with another man. Do you remember how he reacted when he saw her with her brother?"

"Yeah, I remember, all right. He didn't want anything to do with her when he thought she had a boyfriend, and I can't say that I blame him. Anyway, this doesn't look quite right to me," Billy replied, "so I'm going to be interested in seeing them come back some time tonight, assuming they do come back. Jim ought to know what's going on, but I'll let you decide when and if and what we should tell him. Anyway, I'm going to keep an eye on things, so let me know who the guy is and what he does when you find out."

"Okay. Now, Billy, let me ask once again, do you think he's the guy, the thug, we're looking for?" Tracy asked.

"I doubt it," Billy replied. "The guy who beat up on Tony Paterson was a professional enforcer. He gets his kicks out of beating up people. This guy Jenelli's with tonight doesn't look like he could punch his way out of a paper bag. Actually, he looks to me like a clone of her late husband--fancy clothes and all."

* * * * *

"I'll invite you in if you'll promise to behave yourself." Jenelli giggled, as she invited Kevin in to her apartment. "And you can't stay too long," she added, as she turned the key, "because I have to pick up Alycia before it get's too late." Kevin hugged her, then reached around her, pushed open the door, and fumbled for a light switch.

The man in the ski mask had his gun on them even before the lights came on. "Don't make a sound, either of you, if you want to live," he growled.

"Okay! Okay! Don't shoot!" Jenelli whimpered.

"Hands in the air, both of you!"

Both Jenelli and Kevin raised their hands.

"Do as I say, and maybe I'll let you live." The man's eyes were filled with hate. "You!" he pointed at Kevin. "Empty your pockets on that table. Do it slow so I can keep an eye on you. Go for a gun, and you're both dead."

"Yes, sir!" Kevin began to empty his pockets.

The man in the ski mask watched as Kevin placed his car keys, his wallet, and some loose change on the table. "That everything?" he growled.

"Yes, sir!"

"Your ring. Put it on the table."

"Yes, sir!" Kevin slipped the diamond ring from his finger and placed it on the table.

The stocky man turned to Jenelli. "You," he snarled. "Take off that necklace and put it there on the table. Your rings, too."

"Yes, sir!" Jenelli placed her necklace and rings on the table.

Suddenly and without warning the masked man's left fist jabbed out. Jenelli gasped and staggered backwards as he punched her in the stomach, then went to her knees, her face distorted with pain.

Kevin instinctively stepped forward to protect Jenelli, only to find himself staring at the barrel of the man's gun. "Back off!" he growled. Kevin took a step backwards and then another. "Lie down on the floor!" Kevin got down on the floor.

The intruder kept his gun on Kevin as he walked to the table, picked up the man's wallet and car keys, and put them in his pocket. Jenelli's jewelry and the man's ring were quickly thrust into another pocket.

Turning to Jenelli and motioning with the gun, he said, "Get up." Even though her stomach hurt something terrible, Jenelli managed to get to her feet. The man with the gun retrieved some plastic electrician's ties from his pocket and placed them on the table. "Tie the man's hands!" he ordered. "Be quick about it."

Jenelli's hands were shaking but she managed to loop one of the ties around Kevin's wrists and draw it tight. "Now his ankles!" She managed to loop one of the ties around his ankles.

Once assured that the ties were tight, the intruder produced a small roll of duct tape. "Tape his mouth!" he commanded Jenelli. She obeyed. "Now his eyes!"

Satisfied that Kevin's mouth was tightly taped and that he was effectively blindfolded, the intruder turned to Jenelli. "On your knees, hands behind your back!" he growled. Moments later, he had her wrists tied behind her back and tape across her mouth. "Now, get up on your feet!" The intruder grabbed her shoulder and helped her to her feet.

The terrible eyes behind the ski mask burned into Jenelli as the intruder stood before her, eyes focused directly on her's. "Consider this little incident a down-payment on Tony Paterson's debt." Jenelli cringed as he emphasized the term 'down-payment.' He slipped the gun into his pocket.

It was time for the part the masked intruder enjoyed most. A sharp jab with his left fist smashed into Jenelli's right breast; a sharp jab with his right smacked her left breast. Even as she reeled, another left jab drove into her stomach.

None of the punches he'd thrown would do much in the way of permanent damage. She'd be black and blue and sore for a good long while, though, exactly the way he wanted her. She'd remember his visit for a long time, and she'd be much more pliable the next time he came calling. "Listen up," he snarled, kneeling beside her as she writhed in pain on the floor. "I hate your guts, and I'll be back, and if you don't come up with more cash next time, you'll hurt even more than you do now. Then I'll have some fun with you." With a final look-around to assure himself that neither Kevin or Jenelli would be able to follow him or call anyone on the telephone, he let himself out and slipped off the ski mask.

* * * * *

Billy watched the short, muscular man he'd never seen before come out of the apartment building but didn't pay much attention to him until he walked straight to the Corvette and unlocked its door. "Oh! Oh!" he breathed, speed-dialing Tracy on his cell-phone even as he started the van he was driving that night.

He'd parked the van down the street ahead of the Corvette, and as it pulled out of its parking place on the street, Billy swung the van in front of the car, blocking the street.

eeeeeeeee! There was a screech of brakes as the Corvette skidded to a stop in front of the van.

Billy was out of the van fast, his pistol in his hand, but the driver of the Corvette was even faster, out of the Corvette and running away through an alley across the street. There was no way Billy could catch him on foot, not with his artificial leg. Checking on Jenelli and her boyfriend would take priority over catching the short man, but Tracy was already on his way over to Jenelli's apartment.

Tracy could take care of the Corvette as well. Billy would see if he could spot the man who had abandoned the car. Quickly turning his van around in the street, Billy drove right down that alley where the man had disappeared, his eyes alert for any places where he might be ambushed.

As Billy emerged from the alley, he saw the man running down the street and gave chase, calling a description of the man and his whereabouts to Tracy on his cell-phone as he drove. Moments later, the man ducked into a bar.

"You watch the front entrance of the bar," Billy told Tracy, who now was only a few blocks away. "I'll drive down the alley and see if he tries to go out the back door."

The stocky man went out the back door of the bar. Watched. Waited. Gun in hand.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The van's windshield shattered as Billy drove cautiously down the alley. And then Billy was out of the van and returning fire.

BAM! BAM!

The two shots were enough. The man who'd terrorized Jenelli and Kevin and who knew how many others, lay sprawled in the alley–dead!

While Billy waited for the police, Tracy hurried to Jenelli's apartment.

* * * * *

Tracy and Billy drove to Jim's cabin later that night and told him what had happened. "I think Jenelli would want you with her at the hospital, Jim," Tracy suggested. He wasn't convinced that Jim should go see Jenelli, but he was sure she would be asking for him.

"You guys can go and be with her at the hospital if you want to, Tracy," Jim responded, shaking his head, "but I assume this Kevin Baker is with her, so she doesn't need me. Anyway, I'm glad you got the guy who gave them all the trouble. He won't come around hurting anyone anymore."

"I know how it looks with Jenelli and Kevin Baker, Jim," Tracy said, "but you ought to give her a chance to explain. Maybe it's not like it seems."

Jim shook his head and sighed. "From what you've said, the picture is clear. Kevin Baker is a wealthy investment advisor, and Jenelli's high school sweetheart. He dresses like a success story, drives a fine sports car, and probably lives in a mansion somewhere. Jenelli would be a lot more suited to him than me. Never mind that the guy's been through a couple of wives already. Jenelli's obviously made her choice. I'm sure he'll take good care of her. Besides, I have to ask myself what a woman like Jenelli who's used to the good life would have to do with somebody like me."

Tracy and Billy exchanged brief glances. Each knew what the other was thinking. Neither could imagine Jenelle and Jim having much in common. In fact, both of them had been pleased when Jim had shown an interest in Cheryl--and she in him. Still, it would hurt Jim to know that Jenelle had been out with another man--her old high school sweetheart, at that, after the way she'd come on to Jim. "Do you want me to stay out here with you tonight, Jim?" Tracy asked.

Jim shook his head. "No. I'm okay." He thought for a moment. "There is one thing you could do for me, though. Give George and Kay a call in the morning and explain to them what's been happening. I'm sure they'd want to know what's been going on, and Kay may want to check in on Jenelli."

"I'll do that, Jim," Tracy said.

Jim nodded. "Thanks."

Tracy and Billy got to their feet. Neither of them wanted to leave Jim alone with the news they'd had to bring to him. Still, they knew that he'd enjoyed the time he'd spent with Cheryl--so maybe Jenelli didn't matter so much. She certainly wouldn't now. Of that, both men were absolutely certain. And maybe they were just a little pleased that Jim now knew that Jenelli didn't need him. "You're sure you're going to be all right?" Billy echoed Tracy's concern.

"Yeah," Jim replied. "I'll be all right." Moments later, he watched the taillights of Tracy's Buick disappear down the drive toward the highway.

* * * * *

Once Tracy and Billy were gone, Jim sank down on the rug in front of his fireplace. Ben joined him there, and Jim lovingly stroked the big white dog. "You're going to enjoy meeting Cheryl, Ben," Jim murmured, "'cause I really do like her." Ben snuggled close.

He'd get on with that introduction soon.
CHAPTER 23

The ringing of Jim's telephone awoke him from a fitful sleep the following morning. He did not answer it, nor did he check to see who was calling or if the caller had left a voice-mail message. If anyone left a message, he'd find it later. He'd switched off his cell phone the night before. There was no one he wanted to talk to right then--certainly not Jenelli. Cheryl? Yes! He'd call Cheryl later.

Still, he'd liked Jenelli, had liked her a lot. What man wouldn't enjoy the company of a beautiful woman like her. Not that he'd ever thought she'd be comfortable with his lifestyle, not after living the good life as she had with Tony Paterson. And she'd apparently enjoyed the company of still another hot-shot banker, or investment advisor--or whatever he was. No. He'd look forward to seeing Cheryl again, but not Jenelli. In his mind, that relationship was over.

Ever since Crystal had died, there had been one place where Jim could find peace and solitude. After eating breakfast, he called to Ben and the two of them climbed the steps that led them down and into Jim's silver mine. It was peaceful and quiet in the mine and the physical work of mining helped distract Jim from the realities of last night's visit from Tracy and Billy. No one could reach him on the telephone there, and no one could find him if they came calling at his cabin.

What was it Kay had said about Jenelli maybe being the most fabulous treasure he'd ever find, Jim thought, derisively. Kay had meant well, of that Jim had no doubt, but she'd not have known that an old high school sweetheart would show up--before they'd even had a chance to get acquainted. And Jim had promised Kay he'd go to church with them. With her and George–and Jenelli. Well, that wasn't going to happen now. Jenelli and Kevin Baker could go with them, if Baker were of such a mind. Jim doubted that he was.

As Jim worked in his mine, he began to think about the gold mine George and Kay were developing. In addition to the gold mine, they'd found treasure that had been hidden for well over a hundred years. Jim had been searching for the gold hidden by outlaws on the run when he found Alycia, and he'd worked on that project several times since. But there was yet another rumored treasure that interested Jim, one that might have been buried around in an abandoned stone quarry in the rugged hills to the east of his cabin. Now might be the perfect time for him and Ben to go take a look.

They'd have to hike in and camp for a few days because there were no roads leading into that territory any more. They could do that. The colder weather and the possibility of snow wouldn't discourage them.

He'd call Cheryl to let her know that he'd be away for a few days. Maybe talk with her just a little. She'd no doubt know that Jenelli was in the hospital--no doubt with Kevin Baker at her bedside. Once he was back from his adventure into that old stone quarry, he'd call Cheryl and arrange to see her again.

Back in his cabin that night, Jim deleted the voice-mail messages from Jenelli that had accumulated over the day without even listening to them. What was she bothering him for, anyway? She had her high school sweetheart. And he had a new friend in Cheryl Andrews. Not that he'd consider her as a girlfriend just yet, but that might happen. With no hesitation whatsoever, Jim dialed Cheryl's number.

Cheryl greeted Jim warmly, apparently happy that he'd called. After thanking her again for the enjoyable time he'd had with her earlier, he told her of his plans to be camping and searching for a treasure. To Jim's delight, this adventure he was about to undertake delighted her. "I'd love to go with you!" she exclaimed, then asked, "Would you take me camping with you, sometime? We could look for treasure together!"

He assured her that he most certainly would take her with him--and before long. They'd have to arrange for her to take some time off from her work at the hospital, and she could and would do that.

"I love the mountains!" she exclaimed, as they were finishing the conversation for the evening, "and I'm not a girl you'll have to pamper."

From what Cheryl had told him about her enjoying the mountains with her uncle while she was growing up, Jim could believe that she'd be able to enjoy the mountains with him. That he wouldn't have to pamper her. He'd never explored the mountains with anyone as his companion except for Ben. Maybe he'd just met someone who would enjoy going with him. They'd work on that.

Once Jim finsihed talking with Cheryl and arranged to call her later in the week, he retrieved his folder on the treasure that just might be buried far to the east of his cabin and sat down at his desk to study the information.

As the story went, a party of three miners were returning from the gold fields in California in 1866. Between them, they had about $20,000 in gold dust and nuggets. That was an 1866 valuation. They had camped for the night near an old stone quarry about one mile south of a small settlement called Jewell City. The town itself had disappeared long ago.

Before going to sleep each night, as men who knew them later related, each miner buried his share of the gold in iron or stone pots for safekeeping until the morning. On this particular night, however, the three miners were murdered in their sleep. The killers were never caught.

Years later, one of the killers on his deathbed confessed to the crime. He said that he and his companions had buried the bodies of the miners and then searched for their buried gold, but had never found it. Some credence was given to the story when a settler later found a human skeleton that had been buried near the stone quarry--a skeleton with a bullet hole in the skull.

A number of people had searched for the miner's buried treasure over the years, but to the best of Jim's knowledge, it had never been found. "What do you say we go take a look for ourselves, Ben?" Jim asked, as he patted the big white dog. Ben nuzzled his hand. He was ready to go.

Jim and Ben hadn't been out camping for some time. Jim began to gather up the supplies they'd need. They'd leave early in the morning.

* * * * *

It took most of a day for Jim and Ben to hike to the abandoned stone quarry. Once there, Jim set up camp. Tomorrow, they'd take a careful look around the area, trying to recreate the events of that fateful night in 1866 when three miners arrived here, set up camp, buried their gold, and were murdered.

Jim did not want to think about Jenelli and her boyfriend, and this wilderness setting provided an alternative environment. He'd known from the first time they'd met that he wasn't really good enough for her. He simply wasn't in her league, what with her sophisticated life style. Well, his infatuation with her was over. He'd simply stay out of sight for a while, out of sight and out in the wilds where he belonged. He could take care of himself in the wilds. And he'd really enjoyed meeting Cheryl. He wished she was with him. Maybe the next time he came out here she would be.

* * * * *

Jenelli was mildly sedated when Kay saw her in the hospital the day following her beating by the ski-masked intruder. "How are you doing, Jenelli?" Kay asked, seating herself at Jenelli's bedside.

"I hurt all over," Jenelli replied, her voice just a little slurred by the medication.

"I'm sorry," Kay responded. "Jim was afraid the man who'd beaten Tony would come around looking for you, maybe trying to get money or maybe just trying to hurt you in some way. That's why he asked Tracy and Billy to keep an eye on you."

"I'm so . . . so glad they . . . they did," Jenelli whimpered, "but . . . but, where is Jim anyway? He's . . . He's not answering his phone."

"I don't know where Jim is." Kay would try to be kind, but she'd tell the truth as she saw it. "Sometimes he goes off camping in the wilderness or looking for buried treasure. He's very self-reliant. Anyway, I don't think you'll have to worry about him being around any more."

"But . . . But . . . ." Tears welled up in Jenelli's eyes. "It's not . . . It wasn't like it seemed."

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Jenelli," Kay replied, softly. "Is your friend, Kevin Baker, around?"

Jenelli nodded. "Yes, he's staying a few days to be with me. In fact, he just stepped out to make a few phone calls. Arrange a meeting with a client, he said. Something like that, anyway. He'll be back soon. I'd like for you to meet him."

"Umm, maybe later," Kay said. She glanced at her watch. "Right now, I've got to meet George, but I'll be back. I just wanted to make sure you were getting along all right and that someone was here with you. Give us a call if you need anything."

George had checked with some friends of his who knew Kevin Baker, and from their comments he wasn't someone Kay especially wanted to meet. She hoped Jenelli wouldn't take up with another man with Tony's love for extravagance and booze and parties, but that's exactly what was happening. Well, it was her life.

"Wait!" Jenelli exclaimed, clutching for Kay's hand as Kay rose from her chair.

Kay paused. "What is it, Jenelli?"

"Will you please tell Jim that I . . . that I love him?"

Kay didn't answer immediately. When she did, she said, "I'm going to let you tell him that."

* * * * *

The mining engineer overseeing the Henry's mine almost didn't recognize the man in the winter gear with the big white dog coming across the creek and toward the camping trailer set up as his office. Then, as they came closer, he recognized Jim Wilson and walked hurriedly to meet him.

"Are George and Kay going to be out here today?" Jim asked, once the two men exchanged greetings.

"Yeah, I think so," the engineer replied. "They usually come out around one o'clock, at least for a short visit." He looked at his watch. "It's about noon, so they should be here in another hour or so. Why don't you eat with us in our trailer?"

Jim shook his head. "No, thanks. I've got a little grub left in my backpack. I'll climb up there where Ben and I can watch the activity until George and Kay get here." He motioned toward the opposite creek bank.

"Aw, come on and eat with us. It's warm in the trailer," the engineer invited. "Your dog's welcome, too."

"Thanks, but 'no.'" Jim declined. "I don't want to impose on you. Besides, I'm dressed for the weather, and I'll be going as soon as I talk with George and Kay for a moment."

Before the engineer could respond, Jim turned and climbed back the way he'd come. Ben followed happily, tail wagging. He didn't mind the cold weather one bit, as long as Jim was near.

* * * * *

"You've got a fellow sitting up there who wants to see you," the mining engineer told George when he and Kay arrived at the mine, motioning toward where Jim was seated on the opposite bank.

The moment Kay saw Jim, she waved and started toward him just as fast as she could safely scramble up the embankment. George hurried to keep up with her.

Jim stood up as they approached. "Hi, Kay. Hi, George."

"Jim!" Kay exclaimed. "It's so good to see you!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him close to her. "I was worried about you," she whispered.

George extended his hand and Jim took it. "Are you okay, Jim?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay." His voice seemed sad. "I've got a favor to ask of you guys, and then I'll be going. Well, two favors, actually."

"A favor? Two favors?" George asked. "All right. What are they?"

Jim reached into his duffle bag, retrieved a small stone pot, and handed it to George. "I'd like for you to take this back to town with you for me," he said. "Put it where it'll be safe. Go ahead. Take a look inside."

George lifted the lid. He and Kay looked inside–at the gold nuggets and dust that filled the pot. "Oh, Jim!" Kay breathed. "That's pure gold!"

"Yeah, it's pure gold, near as I can tell without a proper assay. You guys take half for your trouble," Jim said. He glanced at his watch. "I'll have to tell you the story about finding the gold later, though, because I've got to get going."

"You've got to get going?" Kay questioned. "Why, Jim? Where are you going? Back to look for more gold?"

"No, I'm not looking for more gold now, although I think there's more near where I found this. Maybe twice or three times as much. I'll check it out some other time. Right now, though, I'm heading home. Well, toward home, anyway. If I don't get there tonight, well, maybe tomorrow."

"Let us drive you home," George invited.

"No, thanks. I need the walk." He turned to go.

Kay reached for his hand. "Jim. Please wait."

Jim paused and looked at her. His eyes were horribly sad.

"Please call me when you get home. Will you do that, Jim?" Kay begged. "Let me know you're all right?"

"Yeah, I'll give you a call." Kay and George had been so good to him.

"What's your second request?" George asked.

"You may remember a nurse at the hospital named Cheryl Andrews."

Kay nodded. "Yes, I know who she is."

"I had a really nice visit with her a night or so ago. She invited me to her apartment for dinner, and then we had a really nice time--just visiting. I really like her, and I'd like for you both to meet her. As soon as I get back home, we're going to find some time to get together, and I'd like you to join us for dinner."

Kay smiled. "That's wonderful, Jim. And we'll be happy to join you. Right, George?"

"Yes. We'll look forward to that."

"Oh, there's something else I want to mention," Jim said, turning to Kay as he spoke.

"Okay."

"Cheryl has a beautiful quilt she made when she was seventeen. It's a star pattern. That's what she calls it." He hesitated. "To me, it looks to be flawless. I'd like for you to see it."

Kay nodded. "I'd like that."

"She said she'd like to make others, and it seems to me she's quite talented," Jim continued. "If you think she's got the talent, maybe we can encourage her to make another one."

"Sure," Kay replied. "I'll look forward to seeing Cheryl's quilt--and getting acquainted with her."

* * * * *

It was hard for Kay to see Jim looking so sad when she'd first seen him. She could only assume he was sad because of what Jenelli had done. Still, Jenelli was not his girl. She had to live her own life, and it was well that Jim was finding out that she could be someone else's girl. And that that someone might be more to her liking than he was.

And now, Jim seemed to have met a girl who could make him happy. And from what she had seen of the nurse, Cheryl might well be a perfect match for Jim. She'd look forward to getting acquainted with Cheryl.

All Kay could think of to do right then was to throw her arms around Jim, and she was happy when he hugged her back. "I love you, Jim," she whispered, looking into his eyes as she spoke. "I really do love you."

* * * * *

"Why don't you hang in there with me, baby?" Kevin was saying as he held Jenelli's hand that afternoon. "Come on home with me as soon as they check you out of this hospital, and we'll have a good time like we used to when we were in high school together. Just you and me, babe. Together again! Like we were meant to be."

"But what about my work?"

"You'll never have to work again, babe," Kevin replied, "'cause I'll take care of you. Give you everything you want. Hey, we'll live the good life together. What do you say?"

* * * * *

Kay and George watched Jim and Ben walk away, then walked back to their Jeep, arm in arm. Both were saddened at seeing Jim unhappy, yet they were pleased to learn that he'd found a girl who just might be the right girl for him. And, he was coping with his feelings as only Jim could--searching for and locating long-lost treasure. Witness the stone pot filled with gold he'd found.

* * * * *

Jim walked slowly, rather aimlessly, in the general direction of his cabin. There was no way he could reach there by nightfall, but he could make it back to the abandoned stone quarry. Clouds had built up in the sky and wind-driven snow was a distinct possibility, so at least minimum shelter for the night would be welcome, and there were sheltered niches in that quarry.

Once at the quarry, Jim found a spot that was sheltered on three sides and pitched what amounted to the top of a small tent. That would shelter him and his gear in his sleeping bag as well as Ben. Once the improvised camp was set up, Jim filled Ben's food and water bowls, then ate the last of his food save for one energy bar. He'd eat that one in the morning. By tomorrow night, he should be back at his cabin.

* * * * *

"So what do you say, Jenelli, babe?" Kevin repeated, his lips brushing her forehead and then her lips as he leaned close. "Want to come home with me for a while? Or, better yet, forever?"

Jenelli felt absolutely sick. She'd agreed to the dinner date with Kevin because she'd wanted to see him, but she had no idea that he would take it as an opportunity to invite her to a hotel room after their dinner together. Now he was actually inviting her to go home with him!

In accepting that dinner date with him, Jenelli was sure she had really hurt the one man who'd been so good to her, the one who'd never placed any demands on her at all. She knew that, now. Would she ever be able to make amends? Would Jim even speak to her again? Well, she'd made up her mind about one thing. She'd be nothing but a plaything to Kevin, just as she had been to Tony. No way was she going home with Kevin Baker.

"It'll be just like old times," Kevin repeated. "Come with me, and we'll pretend we're still in high school."

"But, my work, Kevin," Jenelli whispered. "What about my job?"

"Stick with me, babe," Kevin responded. "I'll take care of you like you were meant to be cared for. You won't need a job. I'll throw a party so my friends can meet you. You're a beautiful woman. You'll be the hit of the party. What do you say, babe?"

"No, Kevin," Jenelli replied softly, "I'm not going home with you."

Kevin almost sprang to his feet. "Well then, I'll be going." His lips curled in a sneer as he realized that his plans had been thwarted. "Maybe we'll see each other again sometime." With that, he picked up his briefcase, and without so much as a wave of his hand, walked right out the door, not even looking back.

Jenelli watched him stalk out the door. Her body ached. Her heart pounded. Please, Jesus, help me, she breathed. Moments later, her hands still shaking with pent up anxiety at the way Kevin had abruptly left her, Jenelli picked up her phone and dialed Kay Henry's number.

"Hello!"

"Kay?"

Kay didn't recognize Jenelli's tearful, anxiety-distorted voice. "Yes. This is Kay Henry."

"This is Jenelli."

"Hi, Jenelli. Where are you?"

"I'm . . . I'm in the hospital. Could . . . Could you . . . Would . . . Would you come . . . Would you . . . come . . . see me? . . . Right away? . . . Please?" Tears welled up in Jenelli's eyes as she blurted out the words.

"Yes, I'll come see you," Kay replied. "It'll take me about an hour to get there."

Thank you, Jesus. Jenelli was crying so hard she could hardly reply. "Oh, thank you, Kay. Please . . . hurry."

* * * * *

"I really messed up!" Jenelli blurted out, the moment Kay pulled a chair to her bedside. Tears trickled down her already tear-stained cheeks.

Kay took Jenelli's hand. She wished she could tell Jenelli that everything would be okay, but she wasn't at all sure it would ever again be okay between Jenelli and Jim. Well, regardless, Jenelli was a human being in need of love and prayer, and she'd asked Kay to come to her bedside. It wasn't Kay's place to condemn Jenelli. "Where's Kevin Baker?" Kay asked.

"He . . . He asked me to go home with him. When I said 'no,' he . . . he just walked out," Jenelli whimpered.

"I see." Kay wasn't surprised.

"Do . . . Do you think Jim can ever forgive me?" Jenelli whispered, as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks.

Kay sighed. "I don't know," she replied. It wasn't her place to tell Jenelli that Jim had found a woman that likely was far more suited to him than Jenelli could ever be.

"I really messed up!" Jenelli whimpered.

"Jenelli?" Kay's measured voice cut through her thoughts.

"Ye . . . Yes?"

"What's done is done. You can't go back and redo the past, so it won't do any good to dwell on what you did or didn't do or should have done. What you can do is make a fresh start, starting right now."

"I . . . I guess so, but I don't know how. It seems like I just ruined everything of value in my life. Jim has been so good to me." The words tumbled out. "Oh, Kay?"

"Yes?"

"Would you talk to Jim for me. Tell him I'm sorry. Tell him I know I made a terrible mistake. Tell him that all I can do now is ask for his forgiveness. Tell him . . . Tell him I want to get better acquainted with him."

"Are you being honest with me, Jenelli?" Kay asked.

"I . . . I--"

"Or will you be out with another old boyfriend tomorrow?" Kay interrupted.

"I . . . I--"

"I'm asking," Kay broke in, "because there are some things you should think about regarding your relationship with Jim."

"What . . . What are they?"

Kay chose her words carefully. "Kevin Baker, like Tony, is a very flamboyant person. He's wealthy, and he lives in what some people call the 'fast lane.' I can see where he would appeal to you. Jim, on the other hand, is not that kind of guy, nor for that matter is my husband, George. You've lived for a number of years as a socialite, having all the things money could buy. Life with Jim would be far different for you, because he doesn't elect to live that way. There's no point in your trying to make up with Jim if you prefer the life style of a glamorous socialite."

"I . . . I--"

"On the other hand," Kay continued, ignoring Jenelli's response, "I don't believe Jim ever invited you to go to bed with him or to go home with him. Mind you, I'm not saying Kevin invited you to go to bed, but George checked him out and he has the reputation as a womanizer who's been married and divorced several times. And Jim never showed you off at parties as his arm-candy while he was chasing other women, either, not to mention the gambling. The choice is yours to make, but you need to consider what you want out of a relationship."

"I . . . I--"

Kay again ignored Jenelli. "You're young, you're beautiful, and you're talented," she added. "Believe me, you'll have suitors galore once you get back to work. Some of them will be wealthy and willing to show you a great time. You need to think about what's important to you, Jenelli, and I want you to do that."

"You will talk to Jim?" Jenelli asked.

"Yes, I'll talk to him, but not until you carefully consider what life with him would be like for you. Do you understand what I'm asking?"

"I . . . I think so."

"And now" Kay continued, "I'm going to tell you something that I probably shouldn't."

"What's that?"

"Jim had a really nice evening a few nights ago with a young woman named Cheryl, a woman who's probably much more suited to Jim than anyone he's met for a long time."

"But that won't keep me from trying to interest him in me!" Jenelli exclaimed.

"No, but I think you'd better think carefully about what you and Jim would have in common, anyway. His is not the glamorous lifestyle you're used to."

"You really do like Jim, don't you?" Jenelli whispered, not responding to Kay's suggestion.

"Jim and I go back a long ways," Kay replied. "I'm very fond of him, and I don't want to see him hurt. He's had enough hurt in his life, some of which you most likely don't know anything about."

Tears filled Jenelli's eyes. "I . . . I'm sorry I hurt him."

"I hear you." Kay tried her best to be sympathetic, then changed the subject. "They'll be releasing you from the hospital tomorrow morning. I'll come over and drive you home. We'll talk more once you're settled."

* * * * *

Jim and Ben did not make good time on the way home. Perhaps it was because of the cold wind that was blowing in their faces, but more likely it was because Jim was not especially anxious to arrive back home. By the time the two arrived home it was early evening and Jim was hungry and exhausted. A little later, however, he had a fire going in the fireplace. That would warm the chilly cabin. Next he filled Ben's food and water bowls with fresh food and water. He didn't feel like fixing something to eat and he didn't have the energy to undress and climb into bed, so he simply lay down on the rug in front of the fireplace, wrapped a blanket around himself, and went to sleep.

As he was going to sleep, Jim remembered that he'd promised to call Kay when he arrived home. That would have to wait until morning. He simply didn't have the energy to call her that night. As he drifted off to sleep, Jim's eyes filled with tears thinking about how wonderful Kay had been to him. They'd been friends for a long time. She'd been the only woman other than Crystal that had ever cared about him. One other thing was certain: He looked forward to seeing Cheryl again--and soon. Very soon.

By the next morning, the fireplace along with a small space-heater had warmed Jim's cabin. He got up, showered, and fixed himself a hearty breakfast. As he began his second cup of coffee, he dialed Kay's number. Six rings later, the phone rolled over to voice-mail, and Jim left a message: "It's Jim, Kay. I'm home." He didn't need to explain anything else to her. She'd understand.

Once he'd called Kay, Jim studied the sketches he'd made when he'd searched for the pots of buried gold near the abandoned rock quarry. He'd found one of the pots, all right, but there should be two or more others buried somewhere in the area. That first discovery had been relatively easy. Give him time. He'd find the others.

* * * * *

Jim was not surprised when his telephone rang and he found that Kay was on the line. "I'm so glad you're home safe and sound," she began, "and I want to ask a favor."

"A favor? What's that?"

"I want to invite you to dinner at our house this evening. It'll just be you and me and George." Kay hesitated. Jim could see her grinning as she waited for him to respond.

This was Kay's way of teasing him and he knew it. "You must be asking a really big favor if you're inviting me to dinner," Jim said, trying to keep his voice serious but with little success.

Kay laughed. "Yep."

Jim chuckled. "Are you going to tell me about the favor you want, or are you going to feed me first?"

"Let's eat first," Kay teased.

"Okay." He'd go along with whatever Kay had going. "It's a deal."
CHAPTER 24

"Do you remember Fern's story about the early-day druggist on Sycamore Creek?" Kay began, once they'd enjoyed the meal Kay had prepared and were seated in the Henry's living room.

Jim nodded. "Yes."

"I've been doing some research into that story," Kay continued. "I went to the library and actually found a little information on that settlement in some of the early newspapers they have on microfilm." She turned to Jim. "You've spent some time with those newspapers, too, haven't you?"

"Yes. What did you find out?"

"This druggist, Doctor Conway, did a little advertising and his drug store is mentioned in an article or two, and from what I can piece together, the drug store was located on the south side of the street on the east end of the business district," Kay replied, then looked at Jim to be sure he was following her reasoning before she detailed other information she'd learned about the settlement.

"Um-hmm?" He pulled the notebook from his shirt pocket and began to sketch a view of the business section of the community Kay was describing.

"We can't be sure of the name of the young lady he courted, but there is frequent mention of one girl in town who appears to have been the daughter of the man who laid out the town site. She's mentioned as being 'charming' and 'beautiful,' so she just might be the girl the druggist was infatuated with." Kay grinned. "This just might be important, as I'll explain later."

Jim chuckled. Kay was teasing him. "Okay."

"George and I were out there to the old town site a few days ago, just looking around," Kay continued. "We may have located where the main street was, and maybe where the drug store was located. Anyway, to judge from the dead trees and the few that still are living, there was a grove of trees behind the row of businesses on the south side of main street.

"We walked around in the trees some, because I thought that grove of trees might have been a place for Doctor Conway to hide his fortune. Most of the trees are rotted out now, and when George pushed a little on one of them, it crumbled–and this little gem fell out amidst a hollow spot in the rotted wood." Kay reached into her pocket, produced a small golden disk, and handed it to Jim. "Did you ever see anything like this?" she asked.

Jim examined the disk, then nodded. "Yes, I've seen something like this before. They called them 'love tokens.' They're made from coins, usually silver but sometimes gold," he explained. "They smoothed off one side of the coin and engraved something, perhaps a name or initials or maybe a brief message. Guys back then often gave them to their best girl.

"This one started life as a ten dollar gold coin," Jim continued. "One side, in this case the side with the date, has been smoothed off, and the name 'MARY' has been engraved inside an ornate border of tiny stars. There is a small hole in the top of the coin so it might have been worn on a chain or a charm bracelet. Now, Kay, let me guess. The girl you found mentioned in the newspaper was named Mary. Am I right?" Jim asked.

"You're right!" Kay exclaimed, her eyes dancing with pleasure.

"Maybe this is a love token the good Doctor Conway had made for his girlfriend, Mary," Jim continued. "Maybe she wouldn't accept it. Who knows, but you've got a nice collectible. Have you any leads on where the rest of the druggist's treasure might be hidden?"

Kay shook her head. "Not yet, but we'd like for you to go out and explore the old town site with us one of these days."

Jim grinned happily. "I'd like to do just that."

* * * * *

Kay was pleased that Jim had taken an interest in the love token. She had not intended to discuss anything that night that might be hurtful to him, and she did not. That would have to come later, after Jenelli had a chance to think about what message she wanted conveyed to Jim. Tomorrow, Kay would help Jenelli move from the hospital to her apartment and they'd have time to talk then. For now, it was enough that Jim was not feeling so terribly sad as he was when she'd seen him a few days ago out at the mine. In fact, Jim seemed downright happy at the thought of helping her and George search for treasure. Thank you, Jesus, Kay breathed the prayer. She had been praying for Jim ever since that morning when she'd learned what had happened with Jenelli, and she'd continue to pray for Jim–just as she had for a number of years.

* * * * *

"I've been doing a lot of thinking about what you said," Jenelli began, once she and Kay were alone in her apartment.

"And?" Kay questioned.

"There's nothing in the world I want more than I want Jim." Tears welled up in Jenelli's eyes. "We had such a good time, talking and doing things together. He was so good to me. I . . . I just hope I haven't ruined our relationship."

"I hope not, too," Kay replied, "because Jim was responding to our prayers. Do you remember how happy he was when he attended the Thanksgiving service with us?"

"Oh, yes. I . . . I'd been praying for Jim, too, wanting him to rededicate himself to Jesus, and I was so pleased when he accepted your invitation to attend church." Jenelli hesitated for a moment. "Do . . . Do you think he'll want to . . . ." Jenelli broke off, realizing how Jim most likely would not want to attend church with her now, at least not until their relationship had been restored. "Kay?"

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid that Jim won't want to go to church with us, well, with me, anyway," Jenelli reasoned. "If I stay away, maybe he'll go with you. Do you think so?"

Kay frowned. "I don't want you to stay away from church, Jenelli. You need God's touch just as much as Jim." She sighed. "Let me talk to Jim. But first, let me be sure of what you want me to say about your relationship with him."

"What I want you to say to Jim on my behalf is very simple," Jenelli replied. "Please tell him I'm very sorry that I hurt him, and that I love him."

Kay stood up. "Well, I'll talk to him," she said, "but I can't make any promises. I told you he now has a special friend, a girl that he's very fond of."

* * * * *

"I want to show you something, Jim," George was saying, "and then Kay and I would like to show you where we found that ghost town out beyond the gold mine on Sycamore Creek. What say we pick you up about one o'clock this afternoon?"

"Okay. I'll be ready."

"Wait!" George exclaimed before Jim could hang up.

"Um-hmm?"

"Kay says we should take you to lunch first. How about if we pick you up about eleven-thirty?"

"Okay."

* * * * *

George indeed had something to show Jim. Once they'd finished lunch, George drove Jim to the parking lot of another small bank he'd just purchased for them. "We're getting the paperwork finished up today, and by this time tomorrow it'll be ours," he explained.

The bank was relatively small, yet very nicely designed. It had been set on a spacious, well-landscaped lot and the drive-through window was situated to easily accommodate through-traffic.

"The building has been well-maintained and Tracy says the security is top-notch," George explained.

"It looks really nice," Jim commented. It was a plus for him to own appealing yet unpretentious property.

"It's situated near the Army Base," George continued, "and we're going to appeal to the servicemen and their families. Maybe we'll have some special promotions to bring them in."

"Great!" Jim liked that idea.

Once he'd shown Jim the new bank, George drove the three of them out to the gold mine. "We'll have to hike on down the creek for a ways," Kay said, "but first, Jim, take a look at this map I constructed of the old town."

They sat in the Henry's Jeep for a few minutes while Jim examined Kay's map, then set out for the ghost town. Just as Kay had said, some of the old foundations were still visible and a pile of rubble marked the spot where a stone building once stood. There wasn't much there now, of course, but that didn't deter treasure hunters like Jim, and Kay was becoming an excellent treasure hunter herself.

Although the wind was cold, it was interesting to explore the ghost town. Whereas the hike Jim had made to search for the miner's gold had been made to get his mind off Jenelli, this venture was more enjoyable because Kay and George were there.

It was while they were driving back to town late that afternoon that Kay summoned her courage and said, "Jim, there are a couple of things I want to talk to you about. How about if you come over to our house and we'll talk after dinner?"

"Okay."

That part had been easy, Kay thought. The hard part would come later.

* * * * *

"Christmas is coming, Jim," Kay began, once she'd cleared the dinner table and was seated next to Jim.

"Um-hmm."

"It's a time when we think about things eternal and celebrate the birth of Jesus. As such, it's a very special time for Christians. Our church will be having several special services during the Christmas season, and I'd like for you to join us."

Jim sighed.

"I think I know why you're hesitating," Kay continued, when Jim didn't respond, "and that brings me to the second important thing I want to discuss with you."

Jim lifted his head and for a moment his eyes met Kay's. They were the most loving eyes he'd ever seen besides Crystal's--and just maybe, Cheryl's. He knew what was coming, and he could trust Kay. They went back a long ways, and she'd never failed him yet. "Okay."

"Hear me out, okay?" Kay began.

"Okay."

"I've had several serious talks with Jenelli," Kay continued, "and the bottom line is that she says she's sorry, asks your forgiveness, and wants you to know that she loves you." Kay smiled warmly. "The truth is, Jim, she'd marry you tomorrow if you'd ask her."

Jim shook his head. "I'm not going to do that, for sure not just yet, anyway. I can't give her the glamorous life she's used to," he replied, "and there's no use pretending I can. Nor can she be much of a day-to-day companion to me."

"She knows that, Jim, but her old lifestyle isn't important to her now. At least, that's what she says. Actually, I don't think it ever was."

"That's what she says, but when this guy, this old boyfriend who can offer her the same galmouous life, comes along, well, away she goes."

"I don't think so, Jim."

"You don't?"

"No. I think Jenelli had no idea of what Kevin Baker was like. Well, she knew he was a wealthy investment advisor, but she couldn't have known much if anything about his character. He was her boyfriend in high school, and she wanted to see him. That was all. She certainly didn't mean to hurt you, and she's really sorry now that she went out with him. You see, Jim, Jenelli now sees him for the kind of guy he really is. And, yes, he could offer her the glamorous lifestyle that she had with Tony, but I don't think she wants that. You see, she's found something much better. She's found you."

"Do you really believe that?" Jim asked.

"I'd really like to," Kay replied, with some hesitation. "And I can understand your not wanting to go to church and have to sit with Jenelli feeling the way you have, but I think you both should be in church with George and me this coming Sunday."

Jim shook his head. "I don't know, Kay. I'd like to believe what you've just said because I really did enjoy being with Jenelli, but I'm just not sure she could ever be a real companion to me. She's beautiful, but beyond that, well . . . ."

Seeing the hurt in Jim's eyes made Kay hurt for him. "Why don't you give her a chance, Jim?"

"You think I should, don't you, Kay?"

"Yes, I do. You see, Jim, I've been talking to Jenelli, and believe me, she's been just as lost without your companionship, and by that I mean the phone calls and the times you spent with her, as you have been without her. Kevin Baker certainly didn't satisfy her, and she knows that he never could. He's been married twice, and chased women all across the country. She's had experience with a guy like that. No way. Jenelli doesn't want that kind of a relationship with a guy."

"I . . . I wish I could be the kind of guy Jenelli wants, but I'm not sure I can be," Jim began. "I . . . I know you'd like for me to attend church with you, and in a way I want to be there, but . . . seeing Jenelli would just be too much.

"You see, Kay," Jim continued, "I've met a girl who is about as much my soulmate as any girl could ever be. She's not the beautiful and glamorous woman that Jenelli is, but she's real--if you know what I mean. Life hasn't been easy for her, and yet, well, I'm going to get better acquainted with her before I make any decisions about marriage--to anyone."

Kay wanted to hug him, wanted to tell him that Jenelli wouldn't hurt him again, but the hurt in Jim's eyes when she'd mentioned Jenelli was too real. She'd keep praying for him and trust that God would somehow ease the pain and heal the broken relationship--if that was what God wanted. For now, though, it was time to focus on something else. "I want to show you something, Jim," Kay said. She walked to her desk, withdrew a photograph from a manila envelope, and handed it to Jim.

"I found a photograph of the community where the druggist had his store," Kay began. "It was in one of the old newspapers on file at the library. Of course, the community was well passed it's prime when this photo was taken, but it may be the only picture we can easily locate. Anyway, it was quite faint, so I had it enhanced on a computer."

Jim studied the photograph. "Point out some of the buildings that are most important to our search for the buried treasure," he suggested.

"Okay. Here's the drug store." She pointed. "It had fallen into disrepair when this picture was taken," Kay explained, "but you can see where it was. Maybe this was taken years after the druggist had closed the store and become a hermit. Anyway, see these trees back here?" Kay pointed out the landmarks as she spoke.

"Um-hmm."

"That's the grove of trees where we found the love token. Of course, the trees in that photo may be dead now, but there still is a grove of trees right there and some of the dead ones just might have existed back when the photo was taken."

Kay and Jim studied the photo for some time. They compared the sketches he'd made of the ghost town as he'd seen it with the photograph. "So," Kay asked, "if you were that heartsick druggist, where would you have stashed a fortune in gold and silver coins?"

* * * * *

Two weeks before Christmas, Cheryl called Jim and invited him to attend church with her on Christmas Eve. They would be attending the small country church that Cheryl had attended as a child, most of her life, actually, and Jim readily agreed to go with her. In addition, she invited him to spend Christmas Day with her. No way could Jim turn down an invitation like that.

* * * * *

Jim had declined Kay's invitation to attend church with her and George because Jenelli would be going with them. He told Kay of his plans to attend church with Cheryl. She'd approved of that.

Kay had not given up on Jim becoming even more active as a Christian. She'd prayed for him every day and regularly visited with him by telephone. He was not ready to embrace Jenelli's expressed love for him, and probably never would. Cheryl was his best friend now, and having met her, Kay could understand that, because Cheryl and Jim were very much alike.

* * * * *

Jenelli had devoted herself to working for the advertising agency. It wasn't easy to lose herself in her work because she kept thinking about Jim, however, and now that Christmas was near, she wished more than ever that she could do something with him. Kay had told her to give him time, but that was awfully hard to do. She didn't have forever.

Furthermore, although Jenelli had thought she wouldn't miss the large house and the expensive furnishings she'd shared with Tony, the apartment where she now lived seemed, well, small--and inhibiting. Furthermore, she'd miss the glamor of the Christmas parties Tony used to throw as well as those they attended at the homes of their friends. Yes, she told herself, this was shaping up to be a very sad Christmas. The fact that she'd been invited to attend church and Christmas dinner with Kay and George Henry only emphasized the fact that she was alone on what should be the happiest time of the year. Not that she didn't like the couple, and they had been very good to her, but it just wouldn't be the same as the holidays she and Tony had celebrated in years past.

* * * * *

"Hello babe! Kevin Baker here! How are you?" To Jenelli's complete surprise, Kevin Baker called with a hearty greeting just three days before Christmas.

"Hello Kevin. What's going on?"

"Hey, babe, it's Christmas time. Are you ready to party?" he asked.

"Party? Well, um, what did you have in mind?" Jenelli asked.

"I'm going to be in your town for at least three days," Kevin responded. "What say we get started celebrating Christmas tonight?" There was excitement and energy in his voice.

"Tonight?"

"Sure. There isn't a better time than tonight. We'll celebrate tonight, and then Christmas Eve tomorrow night, and then Christmas Day. One, two, three days in a row. Party, party, party. Maybe I'll stay over another day and we can make it four in a row. What time shall I pick you up tonight?"

Maybe there was going to be some Christmas celebration for her after all, Jenelli thought. If Jim didn't want to celebrate with her, well, why not Kevin? "Can you pick me up at seven o'clock?" she asked.

"Sure, babe! See you then," Kevin responded, then added, "Oh, and wear something sexy, babe."

"Something sexy?"

"Yeah, you know. A little black dress, maybe. Something that'll make you and me the envy of everybody else on the dance floor."

"Okay. I'll do it!" That was the Kevin she'd known in high school--out to make an impression on everyone. "See you at seven."

* * * * *

Kay had invited Jenelli to attend Christmas Eve services at the Henry's church as well as Christmas dinner at their house and Jenelli had accepted--but that was before she'd known that Kevin would be in town and inviting her out. As soon as she'd finished talking with Keven, Jenelli called Kay to tell her of her change of plans.

Kay didn't argue. If Jenelli wanted to spend the next three or four days on the party circuit with Kevin Baker, that was her business. Who could know where that relationship would lead, but Kay had a bad feeling about Jenelli's decision.

Once Kay knew that Jenelli wouldn't be spending Christmas with them, she called Jim. "I know that you plan to attend a Christmas eve service with Cheryl, but if the two of you don't have definite Christmas Day plans, we'd like you to consider having dinner with us."

"Um--mmm?" Jim hesitated.

Kay sensed his hesitation. "Jenelli won't be here, if that's what you're thinking."

"She won't?"

"No," Kay told him the latest on Jenelli. "Kevin Baker's back in town, and she's going to party with him for the next three or four days. She told me she wouldn't be going to church with us." Kay did not tell Jim of her suspicion that Jenelli wouldn't be interested in being with her or George or Jim much longer. She could hope that Jenelli wouldn't give in to the advances of another wealthy bum--as George referred to Kevin Baker--for that was for Jenelli to decide. It wasn't a decision Kay or anyone else could make for her.

"Okay. Just a minute," Jim replied. "Cheryl's right here with me, and I'll ask her." Moments later, Jim was back. "Cheryl says that will be absolutely wonderful. She wants to know if we can bring anything for dinner."

"Just bring yourselves," Kay's voice brightened. "One o'clock, Christmas Day, and we'll look forward to seeing both of you." Kay was almost ready to say goodbye, then hesitated, and added, "Depending on the weather, are you two available for a ride after we finish eating?"

Jim chuckled. "Sure. Can you tell me where we're going?"

"No way. It's a mystery trip!" Jim could sense the smile in Kay's voice.

* * * * *

The Christmas Eve service Jim attended with Cheryl proved to be one of the most enjoyable services he'd ever attended. The people were friendly and the pastor's message was one of joy and hope and peace. Jim suddenly found himself thinking that he'd missed a great deal when he'd not attended church over the past years.

Yes, the church service reminded him of the times he'd attended church with Crystal, but he also realized that he'd enjoyed himself that night--especially with Cheryl by his side. When the pastor had told Jim that she hoped he would come back to church for their regular services, he assured her that he would.

Furthermore, the pastor had commented on how happy she was that Cheryl continued to attend church there even though she now was a nurse and working in the big city. "You bring Cheryl and come back, Jim," she invited. Then drawing close to Jim, she looked up into his eyes with a warm smile and whispered, "She's a wonderful girl."

Jim smiled back. "Yes, I know that." he replied.

Cheryl snuggled close to Jim. "Are you guys talking about me?" She asked, pretending to be annoyed but with warmth in her voice.

"Yep!" The pastor exclaimed, "We are, and everything we said about you is good." Cheryl smiled lovingly up at Jim.

Jim would be true to his word. He and Cheryl would attend church together there as often as they could. Now for that mystery trip with Kay and George? Exactly what did the two of them have going that they wanted to share with him and Cheryl?
CHAPTER 25

Christmas Day! Jim picked up Cheryl at her apartment and drove the two of them out to Kay and George's home. The time passed all too quickly and, with dinner over, Kay turned to Jim and Cheryl. "It's time for us to take our mystery trip," she said.

Once they were in the Henry's Jeep, George drove them downtown. Once there, he pulled into a parking place. "This isn't really a part of Kay's mystery trip, Jim, but I wanted to show you something on the way," George said.

"Okay."

"See that building over there?" George asked Jim.

"Yep."

"That was Tony Paterson's bank."

"Closed up tight?" Jim asked.

"Yeah. Closed up tight, and up for sale," George responded.

"The regulators have finished with it?"

"Yeah. They've finished what they had to do, and the bank's up for sale. Tracy and Billy and I looked it over yesterday, courtesy of the attorneys who are working on settling up Paterson's affairs."

"What do you think of the bank?" Jim asked.

George shrugged his shoulders. "Not much."

"Really? We talked about buying it earlier?"

"Yeah," George replied, "but I don't think so now. It's nothing we want."

"What's the problem?"

"The building hasn't had much done to it by way of maintenance for the past several years," George explained. "Among other things, the roof is leaking badly, and has been for some time. What once was a really nice interior is starting to show the results of neglect. There's mildew and mold all over the upstairs. My guess is that Paterson was gambling away the money that should have been used to keep up the building--as well as all the other things he should have been doing.

"In addition to the problems with the building," George continued, "Tracy says the security measures at the bank are way out of date. Furthermore, when I looked at the books, some of the banks best customers had started pulling their money out some time ago. We'd have to work pretty hard to get them back, and I'm not sure we could."

"Just forget it, then. We don't need something like that."

"No, we don't," George agreed. "I'm inclined to let it go. Let someone else have the pleasure of fixing it up and trying to build up the business. Anyway, I wanted to show it to you because we'd talked about it once and it was right on our way--on Kay's mystery trip."

"I'll trust your judgment," Jim replied. He meant it. If George questioned that particular bank's value as an investment, it probably was not a good one. All of their other business ventures were first class. That was the way they both wanted them.

George pulled out of the parking spot, and then continued down the street. Soon they had left the city and were heading into the mountains.

A light snow had fallen over the previous night, turning the mountains into a beautiful wonderland. Cheryl moved close to Jim and whispered, "Isn't it beautiful out here?"

Jim put his arm around her shoulders. "Yes."

Kay turned toward Jim and Cheryl. "Jim, you know that the library now has the earlier newspapers from the surrounding area on microfilm and DVDs."

"Yes."

"I've been looking over some of the early newspapers from the surrounding area."

"Yes?"

"And," Kay continued, "I discovered an article about a stagecoach robbery." Her eyes were twinkling.

"Yes? And?"

"The robbers were caught, but they didn't have the strongbox with them, nor did they have any cash on them to speak of."

"And?"

"As the sheriff's posse was bringing in the robbers, they tried to escape--and were shot dead."

"And?"

"According to the newspaper articles that followed, nobody every found the strongbox--and a bunch of people tried. The stage company even offered a hefty reward, but nobody ever claimed it."

"And?"

"I wanted to show you the country where this robbery took place. Once the weather warms up a little, we could go out and have a look-around. Maybe decide what we'd do if we were on the run with a strongbox," Kay concluded. "What do you think?"

"Sure. Let's do it."

* * * * *

It was New Year's Day when Jenelli called Kay. "I'm going to be moving away soon," she said, excitement in her voice, once they had greeted each other, "and I want to thank you for all that you and George did for me."

"You're moving away?" Surprise was evident in Kay's voice.

"Yes, and Kay?" Jenelli continued.

"Yes?"

"I want you to thank Jim and Tracy and all the others who were so good to me."

"I sure will," Kay responded, a bit of surprise in her voice, "but I didn't know that you would be moving. That's a real surprise for me. Can you tell me what's happening and where you're going?"  
"Oh, yes! I'm so excited!" Jenelli exclaimed "You see, Kevin asked me to marry him--and I accepted. He said that New Year's Day would be a good day to start a new life together--and I agreed. We've made arrangements to be officially married tomorrow. It'll be just like when we were in high school together. That was so much fun. We did everything together!"

"Will you continue working with the advertising agency?" Kay asked.

"Oh, no!" Jenelli exclaimed. "Kevin said I'd never have to work another day in my life, and I quit my job yesterday. It'll be so nice to just stay home with my baby. Oh, and Kevin showed me pictures of his house. It's absolutely beautiful--a mansion, really." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "Kevin and I will do a lot of entertaining, so I'll keep busy." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "It'll be just like it was when we were in high school together--simply wonderful!"

"Well, Jenelli, I'm very happy for you," Kay replied, trying all the time to keep the disappointment she felt at hearing that news out of her voice. "I hope everything works out to your satisfaction. When will you be leaving?"

"We'll be leaving just as soon as I can get my things packed," Jenelli replied. "Either late today or early tomorrow."

* * * * *

Although she wasn't surprised, Kay felt very sad at hearing Jenelli's latest news. Something her pastor said in one of his sermons came to mind. "Your values will catch up with you," he'd said. "If they are worthwhile, you'll find worthwhile things in life. If they're not, say they're based on greed and a love for all the things money will buy, you'll probably fall over them."

It seemed to Kay that Jenelli had already fallen down hard over the values she'd shared with her first husband; now Jenelli had entered into another relationship based in many ways on the same value system. It was likely she'd never see Jenelli or Kevin again. All anyone could do now that Jenelli had made her decision was to pray for her and Kevin.

And pray for them Kay would. After all, even though they might have made choices she disapproved of, they were still precious people in God's sight. Jenelli was a Christian, too, and with God's help, she might be able to influence Kevin's life to God's glory. One could hope.

* * * * *

Richard Claw may have been locked in prison, but he'd done enough favors over the years that he could call in some powerful resources when he needed them to further his evil wishes. He'd been taken advantage of by Tony Paterson's gambling addiction, was still, in fact, seething over his tremendous financial loss, and he wanted revenge--and what Richard Claw wanted, Richard Claw was going to get.

There was no way he could get his money back, not now, and he knew that. But there was one thing he could do. The money was long gone, but he'd make that woman pay. Maybe he'd get some of the others who'd helped her avoid him earlier. Make them pay, too, and pay dearly. With cold deliberation, he placed a call to one of his old acquaintences--a man he'd done a huge favor for in the past. Yes! It was time to call in that favor.

* * * * *

Cheryl and Jim found themselves spending several wonderful evenings with George and Kay. It was on one of their evenings together that Cheryl brought the quilt she'd made.

Both Kay and George examined the quilt and praised Cheryl's work. Although they brought different perspectives to the work Cheryl had put into the quilt, both Kay and George appreciated the beautiful work she'd done. Both of them were talented in their own specialities, and they appreciated talent in others. They'd certainly encourage Cheryl.

"There's somebody I'd like you to meet," Kay told Cheryl, "someone who not only crafts quilts herself, but who markets and sells them all over the world."

"Yes," George added, "we have a friend who could likely sell any quilt as well made as this one, and at an exceptional price, too."

* * * * *

New Year's Day was past. Gradually the weather improved. Before long, it would be time for Jim to search the area he was certain contained the hastily buried outlaw gold. Once that project was completed, he could and would turn his attention to the stolen strongbox Kay had read about in the early-day newspapers.

Once he'd shared his plans with Cheryl, she'd grabbed his hand. "Please take me with you," she whispered, her eyes searching his. "Please, Jim."

"Okay."

Together, they studied the maps Jim had used to mark out where he thought the treasure might be buried. Then, when Cheryl had a day off from work, they and Ben drove off in Jim's pickup.

Jim and Cheryl easily located the place where the pioneer's cabin once stood, it being one of the landmarks Jim had determined might have been used by the outlaws to mark the location of their hidden treasure. They also explored the surrounding area before going on to the spot where Jim believed the treassure to be buried.

Although Jim searched the area with his metal detector, there was no indication that anything was buried there. "Let's go have another look around the site where the cabin once stood," Jim suggested. "We'll see if we can find anything else that might have served as a landmark for the outlaws."

"What do you make of those old tree stumps, the ones this side of the site where the cabin once stood?" Cheryl asked, as they explored the area around the cabin.

Jim thought for a moment as he studied the stumps. "The trees would likely have been standing when the cabin was here," he murmured, "and they just might have provided a landmark for the outlaws." Taking his notebook from his pocket, Jim sketched the trees into his map of the area.

By then it was getting late, and time for them to go back to Jim's cabin. They'd have to search again, and they would. Those tree stumps just might provide the third landmark the outlaws used as they buried the treasure.

"You know what I'm wondering?" Cheryl asked, as they drove back to Jim's cabin.

"What's that?"

"Questions first. Was that cabin standing when the outlaws rode by? Also, was someone living there at that time?"

"I don't know, but I think I know what you're thinking."

Cheryl grinned. "The outlaws just might have buried the treasure somewhere near that cabin, maybe even with the help of the man who lived there. Or they might have given him part of the treasure in exchange for his keeping it for them."

"That's possible, all right."

"So, maybe the treasure is buried right around that cabin?"

"Could be. We'll search there."

"You know where my uncle told me that the early pioneers sometimes buried their valuables?"

"Where's that?"

"Under a wooden fence post."

"Yes, I know. That was a common practice in the old West, before reliable banks were established. Why don't we try to locate where any fence would have been located around that old cabin? We'll go out there the next day you have off and see what we can find out. Maybe they used those trees as a marker, but we'll search around the cabin as well." What Jim didn't say was that he thoroughly loved having Cheryl with him, even if they hadn't found the treasure. There was a girl he could actually partner with! And they would find that treasure. It had to be there, just waiting for them.

* * * * *

Likewise, Cheryl found herself thoroughly enjoying the outdoors with Jim, and with George and Kay Henry whenever the four of them got together. It was on one of the visits to the Henry's gold mining operation, that Cheryl remembered something from her youth that she shared with them.

"You mentioned Sycamore Creek," she began, "and the druggist who lived there, the one who was unlucky in love and might have hidden a treasure."

"Yes," Kay responded.

Cheryl grinned. "I'll have to tell you my story about Sycamore Creek."

"Please do."

"I've told you how my uncle took me hunting with him all the time when I was a little girl," Cheryl began.

"Yes."

"One day we were out hunting along Sycamore Creek. It was late November, I think, but the weather had been good up to that time. Then, it started to snow on us, and the wind began to pick up.

"My uncle said that he knew where there was a cave we could camp in to get out of the storm, but it was tough to get to. To climb to, that is. Well, we had to find shelter, so we headed for the cave.

" Anyway," Cheryl continued, "the cave was located maybe as much as a hundred feet up the side of a rocky cliff. You could see the opening from where we were. I wasn't sure how we'd ever get up there to it. Then my uncle showed me how someone, I don't know who, had cut notches in the rock so that a person could climb it--up toward that cave.

"The notches didn't lead directly to the cave, however. Instead, they led to a narrow ledge, about a foot or so, maybe two feet, wide, and that ledge went directly across the face of the cliff and under the cave.

"It was scary," Cheryl confided, "what with the howling wind, but we managed to climb those notches to the ledge and inch our way over to the cave. Once in that cave, though, we were sheltered from the wind and snow.

"Interesting thing about that cave was that I found some little bottles way back in a corner. I think, looking back, that to judge by the shape, they must have been medicine bottles. I have no idea as to how those bottles got there, but your mention of a druggist reminded me of them."

"That's very interesting," Kay responded. "Do you think you could show us that cave?"

"I think so. I'll sure do my best," Cheryl responded. "Could we go out that way one of these days?"

"Sure. Let us know when you can go with us, and we'll do it," Kay replied. This was shaping up to be an exciting adventure, regardless of what they might find in or around that cave.

And Kay had to admit that she enjoyed watching Cheryl interact with Jim--in a loving way that Jenelli never had. In Kay's book, Cheryl's values were rock-solid as well as lofty--as were Jim's.

* * * * *

It was the following morning when Jim answered his telephone. George Henry's name was on his caller ID. "Jim here?"

"Hello Jim. George here. Got a moment?"

"Sure."

"We're planning our bank employee's dinner for next Saturday night," George said, "and I'm calling to make sure you're going to be able to attend."

"I'll sure plan to," Jim replied. "In fact, I'm looking forward to it."

"Good, now, here's Kay. She wants to talk to you."

"Okay."

"Jim?"

"Hi, Kay."

"I wanted to make sure you know that Cheryl would certainly be welcome at the bank dinner. Would it be okay if I invite her?"

"Sure," Jim responded. "Make sure she can take the evening off from work. I'll pick her up."

"I'll talk to her and let you know. How about if George and I pick up both of you? We'll be out your way that afternoon to drop off something for one of George's business associates."

"Great!" Jim exclaimed. " I'll let you pick both Cheryl and me up, and I'll look forward to that dinner."

* * * * *

Minutes later Jim's phone jangled.

"Jim Wilson here."

"Hi, Jim. It's me, Cheryl."

"Hi, Cheryl. How are you?"

"I'm wonderful, and you know I just had the most wonderful call from Kay."

"Um-hmm?"

"You probably already know," Cheryl told him, "but she was inviting me to go with you and her and George to the bank employee's dinner next Saturday night."

"You're going with us, aren't you?"

"Oh, my, yes!" Cheryl exclaimed. "No way would I miss the chance to be with you and your friends."

Cheryl meant that, too. George and Kay and Jim and Tracy and the others were her kind of people. Honest and unpretentious, yet competent in everything they did. How she loved being with Jim and his friends.

"Great!" Cheryl's enthusiams always delighted Jim.

"Jim, I'm at work and I've got to go," Cheryl explained. "Can't talk now, but I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay. Call me when you have a chance."

"Will do. Bye."

* * * * *

Sycamore Creek had carried a rather large amount of water over the years, but today had only a shallow stream flowing. Today was the day Kay, George, Jim, and Cheryl would search for the cave Cheryl and her uncle had camped in when she was a youngster.

As Cheryl remembered that adventure, they'd hiked along Sycamore Creek well past where the Henry's mine was located, through some thick brush, and then turned left down a gorge. After following the gorge for some time, her uncle had pointed up--to where she could just make out an opening in the rocky cliff.

Jim and Cheryl had studied topographical maps of the area and determined two or three possibilities for the cave's location. Even though the day was cold and cloudy, the group was anxious to explore the rough terrain, and they'd keep an eye out for any signs of mineral deposits as well as that cave--a cave that perhaps still contained the ancient medicine bottles Cheryl had found there years ago. Could those have been left there by the discouraged and depressed druggist, Doctor Conway? What other doctor or druggist or patient might have carried medicine bottles to that cave? It was almost too much to hope for, yet Jim had a feeling that those bottles just might provide a clue to the druggist's missing treasure.

The group located the cave a little later. Cheryl pointed out the notches that had been cut into the rocky slope. They were just large enough for a boot to fit partway into, and spaced so that a person could steady himself with his hands in the higher notches.

"Want to climb up there?" Cheryl asked.

"In a little bit," Jim replied. "Let's sit here a few minutes and look around some before we do."

The area was extremely rugged, beset with giant boulders and jagged rocks. Few people, if any, would have spent much time there over the years, except for the occasional hunter. They'd look for any signs of human activity, any signs that a man might have stashed or buried treasure of any kind.

"Where would you have stashed treasure, Jim?" Kay asked.

"I don't know," Jim replied. "How about you?"

"Up that slope over there," Kay pointed, "there's a depression that looks a little out of place." She paused, then asked, "Did the doctor know how to use dynamite?"

"Enough so to dynamite a cave opening?"

"That's what I'm wondering," Kay replied.

"He sure might have been able to do that."

"You're thinking he might have placed something in a small cave up there, and then dynamited the entrance to seal it?" Cheryl asked.

"Maybe," Jim replied. "Let's go take a look at your cave first, though."

"I think Kay and I will let you two go up to that cave," George said. "We'll watch."

"Okay."

Cheryl led the way up those notches, across the narrow ledge, and into the cave she and her uncle had camped in years before. Jim followed.

Looking out from the cave's entrance and across the area, Jim could see that there well might have been a small cave that had been sealed with a dynamite blast. That would be something to explore at a later time; for now, they'd explore the cave they were in.

There indeed was evidence that someone had been in that cave many years ago. There were two small bottles of the kind once used for medicine. Cheryl found them right where she remembered having seen them years ago, in a crevice toward the back of the cave. The paper labels had faded badly and were unreadable, but they'd take the bottles and see if they could enhance the labels. Jim would bet they could.

A thorough search of the cave yielded no further clues to the former visitor or visitors. It just might have been the Sycamore Creek druggist. And someone certainly had disturbed the earth across from the cave. They would bring a ground-probe with them the next time they were out this way, but for now it was time to be going home.

* * * * *

Saturday night. The bank employees dinner was just underway when Jim's cell phone vibrated. Quickly excusing himself, he answered, "Jim Wilson, here."

"John Murphy, Jim. Sorry to interrupt you, but it's important."

"Okay. What's going on?"

"I've got a confidential informant who gave me a bit of information that I felt I should pass on to you. It seems that Richard Claw has been in contact with somebody he's asking to do some dirty work for him. He's apparently still extremely angry about the money Tony Paterson lost, and somehow wants revenge on Jenelli. He figures Jenelli spent a lot of money on high living, and that was his money she was spending. Twisted thinking, but that's apparently how it appears now to him. How he's going to get his revenge, we don't know. Not yet.

"We're almost certain that Claw is the one who sent the man that beat up Tony some time back, the same one who roughed up Jenelli just a few weeks ago," the detective continued. "At any rate, I've contacted Jenelli and the police in her new community to let her know about Claw's threats, and I wanted you to know what's happening--especially since you helped Jenelli and also had contact with Richard Claw."

"Okay. Is there an immediate specific threat to any of us?" Jim asked.

"No. Not so far as we know," the detective replied. "However, you may want to alert your friends. We're monitoring Claws telephone conversations and keeping an eye on his visitors from now on, and I'll let you know if anything develops."

"Do you know the person he's contacted?" Jim asked.

"No, but we're working on finding out. I'll let you know when we do, and I'll update you on any further developments."

"Thanks, John."

As soon as Jim finished the telephone conversation, he alerted Tracy Hays and George Henry to this latest threat.They could and would contact the other security personnel.

Tracy wasted no time in contacting Billy Burket and Jeff Monte. He also called John Murphy and confirmed what he'd relayed to Jim.

* * * * *

It was later that night as they were leaving the bank employees dinner and seated in George's Jeep that Jim indicated he had something for George.

"What's that?" George asked.

Jim carefully removed a small box from the backpack he'd left in the Jeep while they'd attended dinner and handed it to George.

George lifted the lid while Kay and Cheryl looked over his shoulder. Inside the box were a number of small, tissue-wrapped stones. Kay's dark eyes grew wide as George unwrapped the first one, to reveal a large, deep-red ruby. "Oh, Jim!" she exclaimed. "That's a beautiful stone!"

"I thought you might be able to use these stones in some of your jewelry, George," Jim said.

"Thank you! I sure will!" George exclaimed. He unwrapped a second gem-stone and studied it, then looked at Jim. "I suppose I shouldn't ask about them?"

"No." Jim shrugged his shoulders. "Let's just say that I did a favor for a man a few years ago. He recently returned the favor with these gemstones. They looked pretty good to me, but I'm not an expert on rubies."

"These are top-quality stones," George said, carefully examining one of the stones as he spoke, "and I'll try to design something worthy of them." He looked at Jim and was quiet for a moment. "You know, Jim," he continued, "we, that's you and me I'm referring to, are rather strange people."

Jim chuckled. "Yeah, in a lot of ways, I suppose. What did you have in mind?"

"Just this," George replied. "I enjoy designing and constructing jewelry and you seem to enjoy gathering the gemstones and precious metals used to make jewelry, but neither one of us actually wears any jewelry." Then George got serious. "Is there any way I can pay you for these stones, Jim? I'd be happy to, you know."

Jim smiled. "Yeah, there is."

"How's that?"

"Make something really nice for Cheryl," Jim responded. "Maybe a couple of pieces."

Cheryl clutched at Jim's hand. "Oh, Jim, I'd really like that!" she gasped. "I've never had any really nice jewelry," she explained, "and I'd appreciate anything you could make for me."

"Okay," George replied, turning to Cheryl. "I'll tell you what let's do. Let me get a few designs in mind and we'll talk about which ones you'd most like. Once we do that, I'll get to work on them."

Cheryl sank back in the seat against Jim, looked up at him, and softly whispered, "Thank you, Jim." She'd already thought of one piece of jewelry she'd like, and she'd talk with George about that one the first chance she got.

* * * * *

Jim walked Cheryl to her door, reluctantly said "Good Night," and then came back to the Jeep. It was when they were just starting up the highway that led to Jim's cabin that his cell phone vibrated.

"Jim here," he answered.

"Tracy here."

"What's up?"

"We need to talk in private," Tracy said. "Tell George to pull over. I'm about a block behind you."

"Okay."

George pulled the Jeep to the side of the road. Tracy pulled his Buick to a stop behind them, climbed out of his car, and into the Jeep along side Jim. "Sorry for the interruption," Tracy said, "but you heard John Murphy's warning about Richard Claw's latest schemes."

"Yes. Do you think there might be trouble ahead for me--tonight?" Jim asked.

"I don't know," Tracy replied, "but you're the one who helped Jenelli the most, and Claw had a most unsatisfactory encounter with you at Paterson's house. If it's revenge he wants, he'll be gunning for you as well as Jenelli. Since Jenelli moved away and might not be so easy to locate, he might try to get you tonight."

Jim nodded. "Yeah. I reckon so."

"I'm thinking that I will go out to your property ahead of you guys," Tracy continued. "I'll go on past your driveway. Have a look-around where anyone might park a car on the other access roads. If I don't see any vehicles around, I'll park out of sight and go on up to your cabin on foot. See if anything looks suspicious." He paused and thought for a moment. "You guys give me twenty or thirty minutes head start. I'll let you know when I think it's okay for you to come on out. Okay?"

"Okay."

Kay spoke up. "What about Cheryl, Tracy? Is she in any danger?"

"We don't think so," Tracy replied, "but Billy is going to keep an eye on her parking lot and apartment building for the night."

"Does she know?"

"No. There's no need to alarm her."

"I think it would be good if you alerted her," Jim said. "She can pray for us, and I know she would."

"Okay. I'll call Billy," Tracy responded. "Ask him to talk to her. Reassure her. Let her know what's going on."

"Good. Make sure she knows how to get in touch with Billy or you if anything comes up," Jim suggested.

"I'll do that."

"Have you alerted any of the other guys?" Jim asked.

"Jeff Monte is on standby."

"Okay, then. We'll wait to hear from you."

"One more question, Jim. Are you armed?" Tracy asked.

"Yes."
CHAPTER 26

Tracy Hays drove past Jim's driveway and continued on down the highway. Along that highway is where somebody would likely park if he was planning to attack Jim. He'd park there and walk up to the cabin. Terry Freemont had parked there the night when he planned to burn Jim's cabin.

When Jim had first acquired the property, he'd had an access road constructed that led from the highway to a rock quarry located north of his cabin. It was on that road that Tracy spotted a car parked that night, a dark blue Toyota. Someone who had no business being there was there, all right.

Tracy went on past the Toyota, then turned off into another small parking area Jim had developed. The Buick would be well-hidden there behind shrubs from casual observers. Tracy quickly dialed Jim's phone number.

"Somebody's out here near your cabin," Tracy informed Jim. "Let me look around a little more before you come out."

"Okay."

Tracy slipped out of the Buick and quietly made his way to where the intruder's Toyota was parked. No one was in the car, but to Tracy's amazement, the keys were in the ignition. Was this guy an amateur, leaving keys in the ignition like that? Tracy took the keys.

The car's hood felt warm. The intruder hadn't been parked there long. Tracy noted the license plate number, and then called one of the MPs who'd helped them earler. Asked him to run the number. They'd find out who owned the car.

Minutes later, Tracy had his answer. That car was owned by a man by the name of Jacob Slader. Tracy called John Murphy. Gave him the name.

"I know that name," the detective replied.

"He connected with Richard Claw?"

"Yep," the detective responded. "Jacob Slader, better known as 'Jake Slader' beat a murder rap a few years ago because the evidence against him went missing from police storage. I've always suspected that Richard Claw helped that evidence disappear. Can't prove it, but I think that's what happened."

"Why? What was Claw's motivation for doing that?" Tracy questioned.

"I don't know, but if that's what happened," John responded, "Slader would surely have the motivation to help Claw get revenge on the people he hates, and that help might involve murder. The guy likely killed once; he's capable of killing again. I'll get Jake Slader's name out. In the meantime, you be cautious out there."

Now that he knew who he was confronting, Tracy dialed Jeff Monte and explained the situation. "I'll be right out," Jeff replied.

After they'd discussed their strategy for dealing with Jake Slader, Tracy called Jim. "I'd recommend that you spend the night away from here," Tracy cautioned. "Give us time to take care of this guy."

"Come on home with us, Jim," George invited. "You can spend the night with us."

* * * * *

The moon gave enough light for Tracy to easily track the intruder, the man they assumed to be Jake Slader. He'd followed the access road for a quarter mile or so, and then headed straight for Jim's cabin, which was now visible to him cross-country in the distance.

Tracy quickly picked up the trail--a trail marked by trampled brush and an occasional footprint in the soft dirt. Slader was apparently not adept at hiking through rugged country. In fact, it appeared to Tracy that he was an amateur. Maybe he was an amateur at killing, too. Then again, maybe he was a pro at killing.

"He's heading straight for Jim's cabin," Tracy whispered into his telephone.

Jeff's response was brief. "The cabin looks secure. I'm on my way to the lookout."

Jeff Monte carefully scanned the area around Jim's cabin with night-vision binoculars. Minutes later, he detected motion in the brush to the left of the cabin, exactly where Tracy had indicated the man was heading.

As the man emerged from the brush and made directly for the cabin, Jeff detected additional movement in the brush. Tracy had caught up with and was right behind the intruder.

The intruder was armed with a shotgun. As Jeff watched, he made his way to the front door of the cabin and knocked loudly, holding the shotgun aimed at that door.

Nobody was home. There was no answer.

The intruder knocked again. Louder this time. This guy was an amateur at killing people, all right, if that was his intent. He hadn't even checked to determine that Jim was home. His being an amateur would make their job easier.

"Hello!" Tracy called from behind a tree.

As Jeff watched, the intruder spun around, brought the shotgun up, and fired in the direction of the voice behind him.

KER-BOOM!

CRACK!

One return shot from Tracy's pistol was all it took. Jake Slader wouldn't threaten anyone again.

"Come on out and get what's left of him," Tracy told John Murphy a few minutes later. "Jake Slader won't trouble anyone again."

* * * * *

George studied the precious stones Jim had given him with an eye to making something that Cheryl would like. He'd work up several designs and show them to her. Let her pick out what she'd like best. Work with her and the stones to get a perfect match. Designing and constructing jewelry with a specific individual in mind was the part of designing jewelry that George liked best.

Once George had several designs in mind, he called Cheryl and asked her to meet with him. She looked carefully at each of the designs and studied the stones George intended to use. "These are all wonderful designs," she told him, "and I especially like that one." She pointed out her favorite.

"But," she continued, "I've got another request."

"Okay. Tell me about it," George replied.

Cheryl outlined her request.

"I like that idea very much," George said, "and I'll get right to work on both of these items."

* * * * *

Richard Claw cursed aloud when he heard the news that his old pal, Jake Slader, was dead. They'd connect him and Slader now, and they would be closely monitoring his phone calls and visitors from now on. Revenge on Tony Paterson's wife and the others would have to wait until he was out of prison, and that might be a long time.
CHAPTER 27

January passed quickly. With February came slightly warmer weather and Jim spent a great deal of time out in the surrounding mountains doing what he most liked doing--hunting treasure. Cheryl went with him every chance she got. In fact, it seemed to their friends that they very much disliked being apart.

Something else had happened that pleased Cheryl. While she was visiting with Tracy, he'd shared something with her and asked her advice. He'd said that he was interested in finding a church to attend, and asked her about the one she and Jim attended.

"Would a beat-up ol' guy with scars like me be welcome there?" he'd asked.

"You certainly would," Cheryl told him. She thought a moment, and then added, "Why don't you come with us next Sunday? We'll introduce you around."

Tracy smiled. "Okay."

Cheryl called her pastor to let her know that Tracy would be attending with her and Jim on the following Sunday. Both Cheryl and her pastor were delighted. "I'll be looking forward to meeting him," the pastor said.

* * * * *

It was the following Monday when Cheryl's pastor called Tracy. She told him just how much she'd enjoyed meeting him, and then welcomed him to the church. Once they'd visited just a little, the pastor asked if he might do her a favor.

"Sure," Tracy responded. "What can I help you with?"

"I've been counseling with a young woman and I think it might do her a lot of good if you would talk with her."

"Okay?" Tracy was puzzled. "How so?"

"You see, Tracy," the pastor responded, "Cheryl told me a little about your background and how you'd overcome a number of difficulties in your life."

"Um-hmm?"

"The young woman I'm counseling with lost an arm and a leg in a terrorist attack on the Army base where she was stationed overseas," the pastor continued. "She's just now about to get out of the third hospital where she's been treated. They've fitted her with prosthesies, but she's having trouble thinking of herself as worthwhile."

"I can understand that."

"Anyway," the pastor continued, "she's going to be coming to church next Sunday, and I thought I might introduce you. Maybe the three of us could get together and help her think about her future. Would you help me help her?"

"I'd be pleased to," Tracy replied, "and I've got several friends who are veterans who were badly hurt in the service. All of them would be pleased to help another veteran. Maybe we could form a support group for her. Give her some friends to rely on when things don't go right."

"Yes, that would be helpful. You see, her family has all but disowned her, and so she's mostly alone in the world."

"Something else I'm thinking about," Tracy continued. "Will she be looking for a job?"

"Yes, she needs to find employment."

"Maybe I can help with that, too," Tracy said. "The man I work for, George Henry, manages a number of businesses, and he's constantly looking for good and loyal employes. He's hired a number of veterans over they years, and some of us were badly damaged people."

* * * * *

Although Jenelli had faded somewhat in Jim's thinking, one thing she'd said still puzzled him. She'd said that she believed God had placed him and Ben on that seldom-traveled highway one wintry day so that he might find and rescue Alycia.

Because he had been on that highway and found Alycia, he'd met Jenelli. And because of Jenelli's being in the hospital, he'd met Cheryl. Did God actually order events in that manner? Jim didn't know. He'd find the opportunity to talk about that idea with the one person he knew who'd understand--Kay. Regardless, he was thankful that he'd found Cheryl. Or, had she found him? What delighted him most of all, of course, was that they'd found each other.

* * * * *

Jim had certainly found a great deal of inner peace as he'd attended church with Cheryl. If Jenelli were to ask him if he were a Christian now, Jim could easily answer "yes." And he'd told Cheryl just how much he enjoyed attending church with her.

But why, Cheryl asked herself, why hadn't Jim ask for her hand in marriage? What was he hesitating for? He'd told her that he loved her any number of times, and she certainly loved him and had told him so. Guys were like that sometimes. Cheryl knew that.

Well, Cheryl told herself, she was not about to let Jim get away from her. No way! She loved him, and she'd told him so, and he'd had no hesitation about telling her that he loved her. They'd spent a lot of time together, much of it out in the mountains, and were quite comfortable with each other and the way each other lived. But Jim still hadn't ask for her hand in marriage.

Some guys needed just a little nudge when it came to affairs of the heart. Cheryl knew that, too, and given the right opportunity, she might just give Jim a little nudge.

There was only one thing she could do--and she'd do it. Yes. Cheryl made careful plans. Then, as February was drawing to a close, Cheryl called Kay. "I'm planning a little surprise for Jim," she told Kay, "and I'd like for you and George to be in on it with me."

Kay listened carefully. "That's a great idea. Count us in," she said.

"We'd like to have you and Cheryl come over for dinner, day after tomorrow," Kay began to put Cheryl's plan into action by calling Jim with a dinner invitation.

"I'd like that, and we'd like that," Jim replied.

So far, so good! The rest was up to Cheryl.

Once dinner was over and Cheryl had helped Kay clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher, the four of them retired to the living room. It was now--or never!

"Jim," Kay began, "I think Cheryl has a question, or maybe several questions, for you."

"Okay." He turned to Cheryl.

"Do you know what day this is?" Cheryl asked. Jim sensed a smile in her voice.

"Um . . . February 29th."

"Yep. Do you know what that day is?" Cheryl teased.

"Leap Year Day."

"Yep, and what else?" Cheryl persisted.

Jim shook his head, then looked around. Everyone was looking at him. Smiling. "I don't know. What else is it?"

Cheryl grinned. "It's the day when a girl gets to propose to her true love, and I'm going to do that right now." She took his hand, snuggled close, and looked up into his eyes. "Jim, I love you," she whispered. "Will you marry me?"

Jim grinned broadly and hugged Cheryl. "I love you, Cheryl, and you know I will!" he exclaimed.

"Congratulations to both of you!" Kay exclaimed. "Oh, and I believe George has something for you."

"Something for us?" Cheryl asked, not wanting to alert Jim that something was in the works.

"Yes," George replied. "Let me go get something."

"Remember those rough diamonds you brought back for us from your latest consulting trip, Jim?" Kay asked when George returned.

"Yes."

"Well, George made something from one of them for you and Cheryl"

"Hm-mmm. George made something . . . for me and Cheryl?" Jim appeared to be absolutely puzzled.

Kay giggled. "Can you guess what they might be?"

Jim was puzzled. "Um-mmm? No."

George grinned as he went to his workroom and came back with a small jewelry box in his hand. "Take a look," he invited.

Jim opened the jewelry box--to discover the most beautiful, hand-crafted diamond engagement ring he'd ever seen.

"What do you think?" George asked, as Kay looked on over Jim's shoulder.

"It's beautiful!" Jim knew that his response didn't do the ring justice, but it was the best observation he could think of at the moment. By now, the Henry's, like Cheryl, knew he wasn't the best with words.

And the ring indeed was beautiful. George had had the diamond cut professionally and then hand-crafted the band and setting himself from gold and silver. "You helped us find the gold and silver that ring is made from," George related, "and I'm just returning a little bit of the precious metals to you."

"It makes a perfect engagement ring!" Kay exclaimed. "Why don't you just give it to Cheryl right now?"

Cheryl held out her hand and Jim slipped the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly, because George had carefully fitted it to her finger a few days ago. "Thank you," Cheryl whispered.

"You're welcome, and thank you," Jim responded.

Kay smiled. "Do you remember that night when you gave the stones to George and suggested he make something for Cheryl?" she asked.

"Yep."

"That ring was exactly what I wanted," Cheryl added.

Kay turned to George. "I think you have something else for Cheryl and Jim, don't you?"

"Yes."

George returned a few minutes later with another jewelry box containing two wedding bands, one for Jim and one for Cheryl. "You'll need these in a few days," he said, "and we're expecting an invitation to your wedding soon."

"God is good," Cheryl whispered.

"Yes," Jim agreed, "and I've just found out how good God can be."

THE END

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