Саманта Сильвер - Busy As A Beaver

“So Michael’s half of the money is hidden in a bank in the Caymans somewhere,” I said.

“We’ll have to tell Chief Gary,” Charlotte said. “With him dead, maybe law enforcement can get some of that cash back.”

“That reward money should help pay for an epic wedding,” Sophie grinned. “I can’t believe you’re getting married. Well, I can. Maybe this will help Taylor get a move on and put a ring on my finger,” she said with a pointed look at her boyfriend.

“I’m just never sure I can tame such a free spirit as you,” Taylor teased.

“Trust me, if the diamond is big enough, I’ll do anything you want,” Sophie replied.

As we all laughed, I wondered if Charlotte was right. Maybe they were going to be able to uncover the lost money after all.

Lying in bed that night, I couldn’t sleep at all. It was no wonder; the last few days had been among the most hectic – both physically and emotionally – of my life. Was Charlotte right? Did Michael Carlton hide his money in the Cayman Islands? What about Francis? Where would his money be hidden? Had he also picked an overseas bank that couldn’t be traced?

Then, Betty’s words came flooding back to me. The last time she had seen Francis was when that woman killed the hitman her husband had hired. That was right around the same time as the bank robbery, right?

Why would Francis Romano pick that time specifically to come back to Willow Bay for a quick visit?

Obviously, the answer was he’d come back if he had a bunch of stolen cash he wanted to hide. But where would he hide it?

I sat up in bed as I began to think things over.

“Are you ok?” Jason murmured sleepily.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I think I know where Francis Romano might have hidden his cash.”

“Really?” Jason said, sitting up.

“Well, not exactly where. But I have an idea. You coming?”

“To go on a treasure hunt with my fiancé in the middle of the night? Absolutely.”

The two of us slipped on our clothes in silence and made our way to the front door.

“Where are you going? Can I come?” Bee asked.

“No, I need to talk to some animals to figure out where to go, and you always scare the birds away.”

“It’s not my fault I’m a ferocious predator descended from the jungle hunters of old.”

“Well, either way, I can’t have you scaring them off. Stay here, Bee, and I’ll take you to work in the morning.”

This was definitely going to be a day powered by coffee, seeing as I’d barely gotten a wink of sleep and it was already 4am.

As Jason and I left the house, he turned to me. “So what’s the plan?”

“We need to find the place Francis Romano found,” I said. “He said he had found some old bunkers in the woods, maybe from World War 2.

“Seriously?”

“It wouldn’t be super weird. They did do a bunch of training around here before shipping soldiers out to fight in the Pacific.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. Do you know where the bunkers are?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m hoping the animals can help with that.”

The two of us walked down towards the park, but on the way there, I spotted an owl sitting on a lamppost, his keen eyes eagerly looking for his next meal.

“Excuse me, Mr. Owl,” I said, and the owl hooted at me.

“Well, if it isn’t the human with the ability to speak to animals. I have heard of your existence many a time, but I had quite believed you to be a myth.”

“I’m not a myth,” I said with a smile. “I’m very real.”

“So I see. I believe I owe my friend the doe an apology. Why is it that you are out in the middle of the night, when the rest of your kind are sleeping?”

“I’m looking for a place that another human might have found. It’s very important. Do you know of a human-built structure in the woods, one which no humans use anymore, which may be partially hidden in the ground?”

The owl tilted his head for a moment as he thought about my words.

“No, I don’t believe I know of such a place. But then, I spend most of my time in more open spaces. The deep forest is a more difficult hunting ground. However, let me go and find my friend the doe. She may be able to help you. Stay here, and I will return with her.”

“Alright,” I said. “Thank you.”

The owl flew off without another word, and I recanted his side of the conversation to Jason.

“You know, if you told me a few years ago I’d be out here at 4am waiting for a deer to come by and tell me where to find a hidden treasure, I’d have called you insane.”

“Life comes at you fast,” I joked, and a few minutes later, a gorgeous doe hopped over a fence and came towards me on the street.

“You are the human looking for the concrete home?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s us,” I said. Concrete home certainly sounded promising; that sounded like what I imagined a bunker would be.

“Come, follow me. I can take you to it.”

“Thank you so much,” I said, motioning for Jason to follow as the doe made her way down the street before crossing back into the woods.

“We have always wondered why the humans built a concrete home, only to never use it,” the doe told me as Jason and I scrambled through the bush to keep up with her. “It has been there since at least since the time of my mother’s mother’s mother.”

“Yes,” I replied. “It was built around seventy years ago, as far as I know. We humans had a war, and it was likely built to train humans to fight before they went to battle.”

“Oh, I really do hate fighting,” the doe replied. “I’m glad the war is over now.”

“So am I,” I replied as we made our way deeper and deeper into the woods. How on earth Francis had found this place – if we were going to the right place – was beyond me.

After about fifteen minutes of strenuous walking through the forest, with the doe leading almost effortlessly past us, we reached a small clearing. The full moon’s glow lit up just enough for me to see a small concrete bunker built into the ground against a hill.

“This is what you seek, I believe,” the doe said.

“Thank you so much for bringing us here,” I said. “Would you mind staying and taking us back to town afterwards? I’m not sure we can find our way back on our own.”

“Of course,” the doe replied. “I am at your service.”

“Thanks,” I told her with a smile as I made my way towards Jason, who was already at the entrance to the bunker. The concrete had been a little bit worn with age, but there was no graffiti or anything on it which would have indicated that anyone had found it since the second world war had ended.

At the far end was a door, a concrete door that looked like it was pretty solidly jammed into place. Jason looked at it skeptically. “Think we’re going to manage to open it?”

“No problem,” I grinned, pointing at the door. “ Patefioroa. ”

The concrete door creaked open, unveiling a large, black hole. Taking out my phone, I turned on the flashlight, and made my way towards it while Jason did the same.

“This is the creepiest thing I’ve ever done,” Jason admitted as we made our way inside the bunker. It was musty and smelled like no one had been here in a long time, but as I pointed my phone down at the ground, I couldn’t help but notice that some of the moss on the ground looked like it had been trampled on at some point.

Twelve years ago, probably.

“Look,” Jason said suddenly, grabbing me by the arm. I looked over to where his light shone, and it landed on a large hockey bag, sitting in the middle of the bunker about ten feet away. I wasn’t 100% sure, but I was fairly certain CCM wasn’t making modern-looking hockey bags back during WWII. This was definitely what we were after.