Page 17 of Cheyenne

He nodded, recalling a snippet of something he’d read. “This church has been rebuilt a bunch of times. The original one burned down in the swampland.”

“You’re right,” said a voice behind them. Both of them jumped, spinning around to see a priest in a black robeapproaching. His appearance was somber, yet there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes. “That cross is a treasure. It’s said to have been recovered from a conquistador warship.”

Micah glanced at Cheyenne, whose face lit up with interest. “We’ve been doing some research about the history around here,” she said smoothly. “There’s a lot of talk online about hidden treasure. Is it true people think the gold might be connected to this church?”

The priest smiled knowingly. “Oh, we’ve had plenty of treasure hunters come through here, but most miss the bigger picture. Few of them connect the gold to the stories surrounding this cross—or to the stories of Saint Catherine Lake.”

“Where’s that?” Cheyenne tilted her head.

The priest stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Not where. Who. Catherine Lake was recognized as a saint by the Catholic Church. She lived nearby during the early days of this church. Legend has it she performed a miracle when the original church burned down—saving trapped parishioners by breaking down the locked doors with an axe. She was a woman of courage and faith … and mystery.”

He paused, then added, “She was rumored to own a crystal amulet necklace—a gift from the enslaved people she saved. Some say it’s not just a necklace, but a key. A key to a second map that reveals the location of the remaining treasure from the conquistador ship.”

Micah’s pulse quickened. “A map?”

The priest nodded. “It’s just a legend, of course. The necklace—and the map—were never found. The land where the church stood was turned over countless times. But the story persists.”

Before Micah could press further, a side door creaked open and a voice called for the priest.

“Excuse me,” he said, stepping away. “Feel free to look around. This church holds more history than most realize.”

Micah waited until the priest was gone before turning to Cheyenne. “Did you hear that?”

Cheyenne was already moving toward the altar, her flashlight app glowing faintly. “He said there are crypts beneath this church. Maybe something’s down there.”

“You think the necklace could be?”

She glanced back at him, her braid swinging over her shoulder. “I don’t know, but we won’t find out standing here.”

Micah grinned. “That’s why I like you—you’ve got guts.”

They pulled back the rug near the altar, revealing faint slats in the floor. A latch was embedded into the wood, and with some effort, Micah twisted it open. A hidden hatch revealed a narrow ladder leading into the darkness.

Cheyenne hesitated. “I don’t know about this …”

“It’s just a crawl space,” Micah teased, already climbing down.

“It stinks,” she whispered, but she followed reluctantly.

Once below, they found themselves in a long, damp tunnel that smelled of mildew and decay. Their phone flashlights cut through the darkness, illuminating cobwebs and cracked stone walls.

“This feels like the start of a horror movie,” Cheyenne muttered.

“Relax,” Micah said, squeezing her hand. “We’ll be fine. Let’s check it out.”

They moved carefully, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the narrow walls. Several small chambers branched off from the main passage, some blocked by rusted bars. Names had been carved into the stone above each chamber, mostly Spanish.

Then they found it—a larger chamber, marked by an inscription: Catherine.

Micah stopped, staring at the iron bars guarding the entrance. A key hung from a rusty nail on the wall.

Cheyenne tugged his arm. “Micah, I don’t think we should?—”

“In for a penny, in for a pound,” he said, snatching the key.

The lock groaned and the gate creaked open. Inside was a crypt with a stone coffin at its center. On the wall hung a weathered portrait of a woman, her features delicate but fierce. Around her neck was an amulet necklace that glimmered even in the faded painting.

“That’s it,” Cheyenne breathed.

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