Page 22 of Spring Break with a Treasure Hunter
“What?” He was taken aback. “What are you talking about? I don’t steal.” Now he was totally confused, as well as offended. “I think you need to explain.”
Daisy was silent, and she continued to stare at him, her hands tightened on the handles of her bag. She was going to leave. He raised his hands and dropped them next to his hips.
“I saw something. In the papers that Beck gave me.” She didn’t move to the door or put her bags down.
“What did you see?” He was curious what could’ve caused such a reaction from her.
She sighed and walked over to the table, dropped her bags on the floor, and riffled through one of them until she pulled out a file. She slapped it on the table and pointed at it. “In there.”
“OK, something in there upset you. Let’s look at it.” He opened the folder and scanned the papers. “I don’t see anything concerning.”
“For crying out loud, you’re not looking very hard.” She pushed some papers around and pulled out sticky notes clipped together. “This. Right here. Your name.”
Cork picked them up and narrowed his eyes. He glanced at her and then back at the pages. “How can you read anything on these? They’re water stained, and the writing has faded.”
Cork picked up on Daisy’s frustration. She plucked the papers from his fingers, selected one and held it to him. “Read this one.”
He squinted and held it close. Barely legible, he could make out smudged words written in pencil and his eyebrows shot up when he saw his name. He looked at Daisy, held up the paper. “OK, so my name is on it, why has it got you so upset?”
“Can you see the other words there?”
He refocused. “Not really. Oh, it looks like it says treasure and collector.” He put the paper on the table and faced her. “So? I am a treasure hunter and a collector. That’s nothing new.”
“I know that, but why is your name in with this pile of information? Beck gave us all this paperwork, sent us on a wild goose chase to that site, then invested in my museum and time.It all seems so contrived. Like you guys are working in cahoots with each other. You’re both rich, you can get whatever you want, and what if you want theSirena?
Cork was stunned, then burst out laughing. But he quickly clapped his mouth shut when he saw the thunder in her face.
He reached forward to hold her shoulders and gazed deep into her eyes. “You have an extremely vivid imagination. Which is wonderful because that’s what helps you find all these wonderful treasures. But you’ve got this all wrong. I’m in cahoots with you. Maybe in the beginning I was interested in adding to my collection, but after working with you and seeing your dedication and love for finding lost treasure, I want to help you preserve it.”
The look on her face dismayed him. She didn’t believe him.
“Daisy, I have enjoyed these last weeks with you so much. You’ve taught me a lot, challenged my thinking, taken me on a journey unlike any I’ve been on before.” He paused and dropped his arms by his side, feeling defeated. “I’m not sure what more I can say.”
Silence filled the suite. Cork pulled out a chair and sat, spreading the papers before him. He fingered the sticky note and leaned over it. It was so damn hard to read, but it appeared to be Beck’s writing. He pulled out his phone.
He dialed and handed the phone to Daisy. “Here, you ask Beck about the papers. I won’t say a word and let him answer of his own accord.”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and took the phone, pressing speaker. Moments later Beck’s voice boomed through the phone.
“Cork! Missing me already?”
“Actually, Beck, it’s Daisy.”
“Oh hey, great to hear from you. I was thinking about you. What’s up?
“I have to ask you something about the research papers you gave me.”
“Shoot, what do you need to know?”
She didn’t hesitate at all and dove right into the question. “Some papers are difficult to read and I want to confirm what’s on some sticky notes. Do you recall those slips of paper?”
“Yeah, I do. What can’t you read? They got a bit waterlogged and I had to let them dry out before putting them away.”
Daisy glanced at me and then at the papers on the desk. “Well, you’re right, they are difficult to read and look smudged from being wet. But on one of them, there’s a name and a few other words that are barely legible. I wanted to ask you about those. “
“What about them? They aren’t very old, I think I was scribbling on them when talking about this location a few months ago with the people that brought it to my attention.”
“Do you remember what you wrote on them?” she asked him.
