Chapter 12
Twelve
Nature provides exceptions to every rule.
—Margaret Fuller, journalist
Scout was poking at the last of her scrambled eggs, debating whether she was actually hungry enough to finish them, when Frankie slid into the booth beside her, nearly knocking her coffee mug over.
Maisie squeezed in next to Chase, beaming like they were all old friends who’d planned to meet here all along.
“Hey, Scout, you gonna finish that?” Frankie jutted his chin toward her plate.
Scout pushed it toward him. “Be my guest.”
“What are you two doing here?” Chase said.
Maisie leaned against him like she was sharing top-secret intel. “We’re looking for the envelope that Enzo stole from your car. He said he tossed it in a dumpster, but he didn’t say which one.”
Frankie stuffed a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “So I’m dumpster diving all over town.”
Scout burst out laughing. “So that’s what I’m smellin’!”
Frankie ignored her and reached for the basket of biscuits, plucking one out like he owned the place. “Any luck finding gold?”
Frowning, Scout jabbed him with her elbow. “Shush.”
Chase glanced around the diner. “Keep your voice down. We’re working on it.”
Between bites of Scout’s eggs, Frankie said, “What’s the next clue?”
Chase tapped the photo app on his phone. “‘Where the earth bows to the sea, and the sands stretch pale beneath the crag’s shadow, seek where the waters gather to cradle the light of the sun and moon and stars.’”
Maisie leaned over to peer at his phone, but he clicked it off. “What does that mean?”
“We aren’t sure.” Scout let out a sigh. “Naki would know.”
“Don’t need him,” Chase said. “I’ve cracked it. Precipice Trail.”
Scout stilled. “Precipice? Are you sure?”
“No doubt about it. There’s a couple of eagles’ crags up there. All we need to do is get up there and look for the shadows under the crags.”
Then it clicked. “There’s also peregrine nests up there. The trail is closed.”
“To park visitors,” Chase said. “Not to park rangers. Call Rivers. I can guarantee he’ll sign off.”
Scout frowned. Chase never seemed to be in doubt of anything.
With his eyes steady on her, she pulled out her phone, half-hoping the chief wouldn’t pick up.
But he did—on the first ring. She laid out the situation, assuming he would say no, or at least provide a bureaucratic detour—a permit, a form, a delay.
Instead, he didn’t hesitate.
“Yes, go ahead,” Chief Rivers said. “You have my permission. Just be careful, Scout.” And then he hung up before she could say another word.
Chase’s grin said it all—he’d heard every word. He pulled a business card from his wallet and slid it across the table to Frankie. “Listen, if you find that envelope, call me immediately. And I mean . . . immediately. There’s a reward in it for you. Got it?”
Frankie grabbed the card and stuffed it in his jacket pocket with a nonchalant nod.
“Hold it,” Scout said. “That envelope needs to go straight to Ranger Rivers.”
“It will.” Chase put a hand on her shoulder as if to reassure her. “I just need to take a look at it. It’ll end up in the chief’s hands. I promise. But we need to keep this moving forward.”
Scout drained the last of her coffee as Chase stood. “If you’re ready, Scout, I’ll go settle the bill. We need to get rolling before the rain hits.”
“Rain?” Scout said. “If rain is due in—”
“Very low chance of it,” Chase said. “We’ll be up and back in the blink of an eye. I’ve done this trail dozens of times. It’s as easy as Beehive.”
Scout didn’t think Beehive was so easy. “Still, if it rains—”
Chase dismissed that. “If it rains, then we’ll head down.”
“Rain?” Frankie groaned and leaned back in the booth. “I hate rain. Almost as much as I hate dumpsters.”
Paying him no mind, Maisie was lifting the basket of biscuits, hoping for a leftover.
Scout shook her head, grabbing her hat. Poor Maisie. She looked hungry and Frankie smelled horrible. On the way to the ladies’ room, she slipped the waitress some cash and told her that it was to buy their breakfast.
A few minutes later, Scout turned off the faucet in the ladies’ room, the scent of soap lingering as she shook the water from her hands. The restroom door creaked open, and in walked Maisie. “Chase is looking for you.”
“Okay.” Scout reached for a paper towel. “Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”
But Maisie didn’t leave. She leaned against the door, crossing her arms. “Scout, do you have a boyfriend?”
“What? No.”
“Why not?” Maisie said, like it was the most obvious question in the world. “I mean, look at you. You’re smart, you’re pretty, you’re all . . . ranger-y.” She gestured vaguely at Scout’s uniform.
Scout looked in the mirror. “Ranger-y?”
“Yeah. Ranger-y. Capable and tough. It’s a vibe that’s trending right now. Guys totally dig it.” She pushed off the door and stood behind Scout, looking in the mirror over her shoulder. “You and Chase would be perfect together. Seriously perfect. You look so cute together.”
“We look cute,” Scout repeated, her voice flat. “Seems like a low bar for a relationship.”
“Well, I admit that I wasn’t a Chase fan after he pulled a fast one on me and took off with the envelope, but then he confessed to it.
You gotta admit, that’s an impressive quality in a man.
Knowing when he’s wrong. Frankie could learn a few lessons from Chase.
” She gasped. “And guess what? The waitress said someone is buying us breakfast.” She grinned. “Bet it was Chase.”
Oh really? Hmm. Scout felt a prickle of discomfort, her fingers fidgeting with the paper towel.
“Fun fact. If you haven’t found true love by your late twenties, chances start to plummet. Like, dramatically.”
That, Scout thought, was ridiculous. “Thanks for your concern.” She tossed the paper towel in the garbage can.
Maisie moved aside from the door. “Seriously, Chase is the whole package. You should give him a second look.” She held the door open for Scout. “I’m kinda famous for my matchmaking. My friends say I have the gift. We can grab coffee sometime and talk more.”
Not a chance in high heaven that’ll happen. “How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
Scout fixed her ranger hat on her head. “Kids your age shouldn’t drink coffee.”
As she turned to walk down the hall, she heard Maisie sputter, “I am not a kid!”
Fifteen. Scout wouldn’t want to be fifteen again for all the coffee on earth. That was the worst year of her life.
Rain puddles splashed beneath Maisie’s boots as she and Frankie worked their way through dumpster after dumpster.
The thrill of the search had long worn off, replaced by a growing sense of futility.
Frankie was hunched over in the dumpster, muttering under his breath as his hands sifted through the soggy pile of refuse.
“This is hopeless. We are never going to find that thing.”
“Only a few more dumpsters,” she said, trying to sound positive.
As if to prove Frankie’s point, a crack of lightning split the sky.
Maisie glanced at the metal sides of the dumpster, wondering if it could act as a conduit for a lightning strike and whether it would be a quick death.
She didn’t have much time to mull it over before the sky erupted in a deafening roar of thunder.
Frankie leaped out of the dumpster. “That’s it! I’m done.”
Maisie watched him for a second. He was serious. “We can’t quit! The garbage truck will be coming soon.”
As if on cue, the unmistakable rumble of the garbage truck’s engine echoed down the street. The sound of it was like a slap in the face, a reminder of how much time they’d wasted by lingering over breakfast. But it was such a good breakfast!
“Come on, Frankie,” Maisie said, her voice rising with urgency. “Let’s beat the truck to the next dumpster.”
He sighed. “One more.”
But as they reached it, Frankie peered inside and let out a groan of frustration. “Emptied.”
Maisie bit her lip, fighting back the wave of disappointment. They had missed their shot.
“Yoo-hoo! Frankie! Melanie!” Sophie was walking toward them under an umbrella. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Sophie!” Frankie beamed. “Whassup?”
Sophie’s nose wrinkled in exaggerated disgust. “Woooeee, do you two ever stink!”
Frankie laughed, like she’d made a joke. She hadn’t. Frankie did stink. Maisie might be soggy from the rain, but Frankie was the only one who smelled bad.
Sophie pulled something out from under her jacket.
“Turns out Enzo was lying about the dumpster. I was walking past his car and saw the envelope, right on the dashboard. He never thinks to lock his car.” She handed it to them, her voice sweet but with a little twinkle of mischief.
“Sorry if he caused you trouble. He can be such an idiot.” She batted her eyelashes at Frankie, clearly enjoying the moment.
Frankie grinned back at her. “No trouble at all. Dumpster diving has been very educational.” He had a goofy look on his face.
Maisie scowled at both of them. “Yeah, educational.”
Sophie’s grin widened as she eyed Frankie. “I’m late for work. If you come by the coffee shop, I’ll treat you to a mocha latte.”
“I should get a shower first,” Frankie said.
“Most of the customers smell like wet dogs right now. You and Melanie will fit right in.”
“My name’s Maisie.”
Ignoring her, Sophie flashed Frankie a wink, then turned and hurried out of the alley, leaving them standing there in the rain with the very thing they’d been searching for.
Frankie, still grinning, gave Maisie a playful nudge. “You heard her. Let’s go.”
Maisie took a deep breath. “You go. I’m going to let Chase know we found the envelope. Finish what I started.”
He scoffed a laugh. “What you caused, you mean.”
She scowled at him and tucked the envelope inside her shirt to keep it dry. “You and Sophie deserve each other.” She stomped off.
“Hold on. I was just kidding. Wait up, Maisie. You don’t even have Chase’s number.”
She stopped.
He caught up with her and put an arm around her shoulder. “We’re in this together, kid.”