Chapter 28
I drove down the river road, the tires hissing against wet pavement, and hooked left toward Shanty’s Peak.
The rain had eased to a drizzle, soft and persistent, mist curling up from the trees.
I’d ridden this route a hundred times on my bike as a kid while chasing legends, camping with cousins, pretending the hills held gold.
But now, my hands stayed tight on the wheel, the folded map on the seat beside me tugging at my thoughts.
The lines on the paper were faint and warped with age, but the angles of the ridges matched the ones I knew by heart. It wasn’t labeled, but I was sure of it. It had to be Shanty’s Peak, close to Bear Mountain.
I slowed, squinting through the fogging windshield as the road narrowed and turned to gravel. When I spotted a faint turnoff that looked like it hadn’t seen a vehicle in months, I eased the Fiat to the side and cut the engine.
The silence hit first with the low whisper of the wind and the steady drip of water from the trees. I stepped out, boots sinking slightly into the muddy ground. The forest around me was dense, alive with the hush that comes after a storm.
Following the map’s faint lines, I moved between the trees.
The ground was slick, the trail uneven. Ferns brushed against my jeans, and the scent of moss rose with every step.
I searched for the two jagged rocks that had been drawn on the map, the ones my cousins and I had never found as kids.
Back then, it had been a game. Now, it felt like something heavier.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, rolling low and slow across the valley.
I kept walking until the path vanished into thick underbrush.
My foot caught on a tree root, and I stumbled, catching myself against the rough bark of a cedar.
Its trunk was wide and ancient, the kind of tree that had probably been standing when Silverville was still a mining camp.
Wait a minute. What was that?
I pressed a hand to the bark and just breathed for a moment, the rain pattering softly around me. Then I brushed bushes out of the way, finding a bear trap. An illegal one. Grabbing a stick, I wedged it between the trap’s teeth and snapped it shut.
Something rattled in the bush. Adrenaline flooded through me.
I glanced at a barely there trail leading into the trees and then paused, noting a weird wire strung inches off the ground. Taking a deep breath, I inched closer, bending down.
What would happen if someone accidentally tripped on the wire?
A bird cried in the distance.
Something loud sounded down the trail.
Instinct bellowed, and I ran. Fast and hard, back to my car. Who had booby-trapped that area?
I slid into the driver’s seat just as thunder rolled again, closer this time. Fat drops of rain hit the windshield before I even started the engine and hit the gas pedal.
My first call was to the sheriff, and his answering service told me he was at the hospital, so I headed that way.
I called both my sisters to check in as I drove over the pass and to the hospital, jumping out of my car and hurrying inside. I hustled toward Aiden’s hospital room just as Sheriff Franco was heading out, cane tapping against the tile.
“Hi, Sheriff,” I said, resettling my purse over my shoulder. “I went out to Shanty’s Peak and found a bear trap as well as wire strung across a trail.”
His white eyebrows rose. “Like a boobytrap?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Close to where you were shot at, I think.”
He frowned. “Might be a hunter staking an area, or it could be an illegal cannabis operation, but that’s rare because of the climate. I’ll send some deputies out to investigate. Thanks.”
“Sure.” It felt good turning that over to him and giving myself one less thing to worry about.
There were some very territorial hunters in our neck of the woods, and it’s possible that wire would’ve only led to a good tripping and nothing deadly.
But it was out of my hands now. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good. My leg hurts, though. They want me to do something called PT.” He scowled, leaning heavily on the cane. “I’m not doing PT.”
I raised an eyebrow and used my best mom voice. “Sheriff Franco, it’s physical therapy, and yes, you are.”
His frown deepened, carving lines into his weathered face. “Don’t you get all bossy with me, Anna Albertini.”
“I will absolutely get bossy with you. What’s more, if you don’t go to PT, I’m going to tell both of my grandmothers and all of the Lady Elks.”
He reared back, looking horrified. “You wouldn’t.”
“The heck I wouldn’t,” I said sweetly.
“Fine,” he grumbled, limping toward the hall. “I’ll try it once.” He hitched down the corridor, mumbling about nosy kids the entire time.
When I moved into the room, Aiden was finishing what looked like banana Jell-O. He lifted his spoon with a grin. “That was impressive.”
“Thanks.” I dropped into the chair beside his bed. “How are you doing?”
“Good. I’m leaving in about an hour.”
I froze. “You’re not supposed to leave yet.”
“Yet, I am.” He gave me that stubborn half smile that never failed to drive me crazy. “I’m not staying here any longer. The pudding isn’t bad, though.”
I shook my head. “You are just as stubborn as Franco.”
He glanced toward the door where the sheriff had gone. “He’s worse. At least I’m nice about it.”
“Was he just checking in or asking more questions?” I asked. “Did you remember anything?”
Aiden set his spoon down, expression thoughtful. “No, I didn’t remember anything, and he didn’t ask questions. We just talked.”
“That’s good,” I said, touching his hand. “He probably needed it. He’s been through a lot.”
Aiden studied me. “I heard about the bear trap and wire. Could be an illegal grow.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Franco is on it. What did he want to talk about with you?”
Aiden leaned back against the pillow, his eyes unfocused. “He’s thinking about retiring.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really? I mean, I can see that after getting shot again, but still.”
“Yeah. He said he’s tired. He loves the town, but it’s catching up to him.”
“Speaking of that shooting,” I said, my voice dropping, “did they find anything about the poacher?”
He shook his head, jaw tightening. “No. They found some animals poached around the area, but nobody has a line on the shooter yet. The wire and bear trap might be related or could just be a coincidence. I’d like to get out of here and help with the investigation, which is another reason I’m leaving today. ”
I crossed my arms. “You’re supposed to be recovering, not running field ops.”
He gave me a look that said he heard me but planned to ignore every word. Typical. Plus, he looked sexy. Tough and dangerous, bruised and battered, hot and deadly. Nobody should look sexy in a hospital gown. “What?” he asked.
Crap. I forced my brain away from his hot body. “I can’t imagine somebody else being the sheriff.” The elections came around every four years, but Franco had always been the one to win. Actually, he was the only one who even runs.
Aiden hesitated for just a second and then shrugged. “He thought I might want the job.”
My jaw dropped. “Seriously?” Hope bloomed in my chest so fast it hurt, and I shoved the feeling down before it could take shape. “Wow,” I said, trying to sound casual. “What do you think?”
“I think I’m thinking about it,” he said, eyes watching me closely.
I cleared my throat. “You should do what you want for your career. I mean that.” I loved Aiden Devlin.
Seeing him safe, not undercover or bleeding or half-conscious in a hospital bed, would be incredible.
But I would never ask him to be anyone other than who he was.
And who he was—the man who ran toward danger to protect others—wasn’t easily replaced. “Are you thinking about it seriously?”
“Sure. I’m thinking about everything,” he said, voice softer now. His gaze warmed, and I felt it like sunlight across my skin.
“I hate seeing you in a hospital bed,” I blurted. “It just isn’t right. You don’t belong in a hospital. This is totally wrong.”
“Hey,” he said gently, tugging me closer. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
“But you weren’t fine,” I said, my voice cracking. “You were almost blown up, Aiden. And it wasn’t even a big case.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them.
He reached out and pulled me onto the bed, careful to keep me on his uninjured side. His chest was warm beneath my hand, his heartbeat steady.
“I’m okay, Anna,” he murmured. “Really. I don’t usually get blown up.”
I sniffed, still half pressed against him. “We were following a stupid leprechaun,” I muttered.
His chest moved as he exhaled, amusement mixing with exhaustion.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I have to admit, I wasn’t taking this case as seriously as I should have.
It all seemed so ridiculous with the leprechaun, the costumes, and that silly treasure map etched on the bottom of the silver boxes.
It felt like something out of a St. Patrick’s Day festival, not a real investigation. ”
I sighed. “Same here. I figured somebody had stolen the boxes for the silver, to melt them down. But that doesn’t make sense now.”
“Agreed.”
My heart rate picked up. Maybe I was on to something. “If that was the goal, they wouldn’t have left them sitting in a bag. They’d have taken them to a smelter or somewhere remote. So it has to be the map.”
He was quiet for a moment, his eyes distant. “I don’t see how. You kids searched all over that map years ago, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. We totally did.” I reached for my purse from the chair beside the bed and pulled out the folded paper. “But I brought it, just in case.”
He raised an eyebrow as I handed it over. “You still had that thing?”
“Of course,” I said, shrugging. “Nana keeps everything. It was stuffed in a drawer with Monopoly cards.”
Aiden chuckled softly, the sound rough but warm. “You already reached the conclusion that it’s about the map?”