Chapter 2 #2
“Nugget boxes made out of pure silver,” I said before she could. “They once supposedly held large gold nuggets from the Grizzly River, and the boxes are handcrafted, about one pound each, out of silver.”
His eyebrows rose. “No kidding? The melt floor for a pound of silver right now is about five grand.”
Nana reared up. “Melt floor?” Her voice rose. “Those are intricate, well-crafted and beautiful boxes. It’s a collective set, probably worth ten thousand dollars each, and that’s not counting the treasure map on the bottoms when you put them together. That could be priceless.”
Franco sat back, his chin lifting. “Treasure map?” He frowned, studying me. “Is this true?”
I sighed. “Yes. If you put the boxes together, there’s a hand-painted map that features the Grizzly River and some mountain. Could be any mountain. When we were kids, we’d pretend there was really gold out there and would go look. It’s fanciful, Sheriff.”
Nana crossed her arms. “It is not. My great-grandmother painted that, and I’m sure there’s buried treasure out there. Somewhere.” She huffed. “My plan for opening day was to let people take a picture of the map with every purchase over fifty dollars. Darn it. Would’ve made a killing on day one.”
Franco rubbed his chin. “Fiona? Who all knows about the nugget boxes being at your shop?”
I winced.
Nana’s eyes widened. “Everybody. The Timber Gazette featured my new shop in an article just last week, and I told the reporter all about the boxes and map to find the gold nuggets. She even took a picture.” Nana leaned forward. “Didn’t you read my article, Sheriff?”
“No. I just got back to town this morning.” He looked toward the door like he wished he’d have come back tomorrow instead. “Was fishin’ with my nephews up in Alaska.” His tone softened. “I promise I’ll read the article right away.” He focused on me. “What are they worth? I mean, without the map?”
Ah. Good question. “Enough to pawn somewhere,” I affirmed, looking at Nana. “You haven’t taken your good crystals, the big ones worth money, to the shop yet, have you?”
“No,” she replied. “I know I need to take them from my house to the shop, but I haven’t wanted to yet. Good thing, too.”
Very true. “So the most valuable items in the shop were the boxes,” I noted.
Nana pressed her lips together. “My lotions are worth a fortune, Anna. They’re full of magic.”
“Yeah, but magic can’t be pawned,” I said gently.
Franco arched a white eyebrow. “Why would anybody want to blow up the shop?”
“Maybe to hide the theft?” I asked. “It sounds like they didn’t know what they were doing with the dynamite. Like maybe they were goofing off.” This entire thing felt odd—more like a prank than a real danger. Except for that dynamite. “Could this be kids messing around?”
“If it is, they’re gonna regret it,” Bampa boomed from the doorway.
Nana jumped, partially stood, and turned. “Oh, Connor, can you believe it?” Her eyes filled.
Bampa was across the room in a second, reaching for her.
He was just as big as she was petite, with dark red hair streaked liberally with gray and intense green eyes.
“It’s okay, lass. The rumors about the theft are already all over town.
We’ll find whoever took your boxes and make them regret it.
” He pulled her close. “I’ve got ya, girl.
” His Irish brogue was more pronounced than hers, and his voice louder than pretty much anybody’s.
He winked at me over her head. “Anna will help find those boxes, right?”
I nodded—nobody said no to Bampa. “Of course.”
He looked at the sheriff. “Why didn’t you call me? She’s been here for nearly two hours.”
Had it been that long? Wow.
Nana patted his arm. “Now, Connor. Don’t you worry about it. Anna’s here with me, and I didn’t want to interrupt your time with your brothers.”
“You should’ve called,” Bampa said, pressing a kiss to her head before focusing on the sheriff again. “I’ve already heard about the theft and dynamite. Couldn’t get close to the shop, though. It’s cordoned off. For now, have you dealt with this pie malarkey?”
How sweet was he to be just as worried about the pie contest as the explosion? Sometimes my grandparents surprised me.
“Still working on it,” Franco said. “More worried about the dynamite. For now, do you have any enemies, Fiona?”
Bampa snorted. “Of course not. Well, except for Gloria Walton, of course.” He patted Nana’s back with his large mitt. “She’s still yelling about the lotion.”
Of course she was.
Franco grimaced. “Tell me somebody else could’ve messed with her pie.”
Nana pulled her face out of Bampa’s barrel of a chest. “I don’t see how. I have the only key to the new refrigerator.” She sniffled. “We put a lock on it the second we got it so this couldn’t happen.” She leaned back to look at Bampa. “I just don’t know how anybody could’ve gotten in.”
Well, wonderful.
Franco swallowed. “Any other enemies?”
“No,” Nana said.
I stiffened out of instinct. “Sheriff?”
He cleared his throat. “What about Elda Albertini? You two have been at odds forever, and I believe she and Gloria don’t really like each other. Something about Gloria cheating at bingo a decade ago?”
I rapidly shook my head. “Nonna tried to defend Nana earlier.”
“Exactly. That was weird,” Franco said.
Um, true. That had been really odd.
“Maybe Elda was trying to throw us off?” Franco asked, paling as he did so. Nobody wanted to tick off both of my grandmothers at once.
“Not a chance,” I muttered, my heart thundering. Nonna was more of a smack you upside the head with a spoon type than someone into subterfuge.
Franco’s phone buzzed and he lifted it to his ear. “Franco.” He nodded and clicked off. “The explosive unit from Spokane has arrived and assessed the scene. Apparently they’re going to transport the dynamite to a demolition range to set off. It’s too unstable to do anything else with.”
“Did they identify the source of the dynamite?” I asked.
“Aiden didn’t say.” Franco sat back. “All right, Fiona. Let’s start at the beginning.”