Chapter 15 #2
“Why don’t you start by explaining who your brother is?” Nash suggested, keeping his tone conversational despite the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. His legal training had taught him that sometimes a softer approach yielded more information than direct confrontation.
Dr. Martinez sighed. “This is my brother, George. He lives in Tooele.” His eyes darted between the men holding them. “He’s heard about the Porter Rockwell gold legends his whole life. When I started researching Rockwell’s activities, he … got involved.”
“Involved how?” Trent pressed.
“Don’t answer that!” George snapped.
Dr. Martinez ignored his brother’s warning. “A month ago, a man approached me and said he represented the Ferrante family.” He swallowed hard. “He asked about my research on Porter Rockwell’s gold. He seemed to know about Bill Harris, about Professor Blair’s work …”
Amy stiffened beside Nash. “So you sold Bill and me out?”
The shame in Dr. Martinez’s eyes answered before his words could. “You were connected to Bill. But I have tried to protect you. I told them that you were just an assistant, that you don’t know anything.”
Relief washed over Nash, but it was short-lived. “But they do know about her.”
Dr. Martinez shook his head. “I tried to warn you all last night. And clearly, she hasn’t stopped. They questioned me yesterday evening. You should just get out of this situation.”
Amy blinked rapidly. “It’s not so simple.” Her jaw set tighter. “Did you tell them about the tunnels?”
“No. I was trying to figure this out and find something to give them.” Dr. Martinez took a deep breath as if steadying himself for a confession.
“There are no leads with the Rockwell gold,” he said flatly.
“These tunnels are a dead end. You can search them all you want, but it was all false information.”
Nash felt Amy tense beside him.
“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “Bill’s research—”
“He was chasing ghosts,” Dr. Martinez interrupted. “The more I learn, the more I’m convinced that because Porter Rockwell had a stagecoach business and transported gold or valuable artifacts, people assumed he hid treasure. But it’s not true.”
Amy stared at him, her expression a mixture of disbelief and anger. “That’s not what Bill believed. His research shows—”
“I read his research.”
Amy frowned.
“I have all of his research. I read it all. There’s nothing here,” Dr. Martinez insisted, cutting her off. “Nothing but toxic air and false hopes.”
Police cruisers pulled up, their spotlights sweeping the area.
Brooks was already walking toward them, badge in hand, his posture relaxed but authoritative.
Nash noticed something in the professor’s expression—a flicker of calculation behind the fear.
His years in law school had taught him to read people, to spot the microexpressions that betrayed their true feelings.
“If that’s true,” he asked carefully, “then why are you here, Dr. Martinez? Why risk coming into these tunnels if you’re so convinced there’s nothing to find? ”
Dr. Martinez hesitated, his gaze darting to his brother and back. “Because … because I did uncover mention of the conquistador gold in a file that I … confiscated from Bill Harris’s notes.”
Amy’s face went completely still, like the calm before a thunderstorm. “I didn’t see that.”
“I took some things from Bill.”
Her face reddened. “You thief.”
Her voice was low, but it carried a force that made Dr. Martinez flinch.
“I had no choice,” he said weakly. “The Ferrantes threatened me, threatened my family! I was scared and didn’t know what to do.” He looked around at the circle of stern faces. “But if you protect my family, I will tell you everything I discovered about the conquistador gold.”
“And why should we believe anything you say?” Nash demanded, feeling his lawyer’s instincts take over. “First you tell us the tunnels are worthless, then you admit to stealing research.”
“Bill had one piece of research that was sent to him by a man that I think you all know,” Dr. Martinez said, his eyes darting from Nash to Trey.
There was instant silence.
“What man?” Brooks asked sharply, rejoining them after briefly speaking with the officers.
Dr. Martinez shook his head. “Not until you agree to protect my family. Not until I have your word.”
Nash watched the exchange, acutely aware of Amy trembling slightly beside him—not from fear, he realized, but from barely contained fury. He inched closer to her, his arm brushing against hers in silent support.
“Why should we believe anything you say?” Nash repeated. “We should just turn you into the cops.”
The cops were talking with Brooks.
George’s jaw worked for a moment before he spat out, “Listen, I did five years in the state pen for selling drugs. That’s how the Ferrantes got to my brother—through me.
I got out a little over a month ago, and they wanted me to let my brother know they would kill his family if he didn’t cooperate. ”
“What?” Trey shook his head. “Seriously?”
Amy took a step forward, her expression softer now. “The Ferrantes don’t play fair,” she said quietly. “They find your vulnerabilities, and they exploit them. I’ve … I’ve seen what they can do.”
Chance sighed. “What piece of information do you have for us, Dr. Martinez?”
Dr. Martinez scowled. “It’s from a man named Truman Birch.”
“What is it?” Trent demanded.
Dr. Martinez shook his head. “Not until you tell me you’ll protect my family.”
Trey glared at Dr. Martinez with intensity. “Tell us what Truman sent Bill Harris.”
Brooks walked over. “The cops are giving us a minute, but not long.”
Nash filled him in.
Brooks scowled at Dr. Martinez. “What can you tell us?”
“No.” He turned to Brooks. “I know you can guarantee me that you’ll protect my family. Give me your word.”
Brooks looked wary, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll make arrangements for protective custody. What did Truman send Bill Harris?”
Dr. Martinez looked tired. “I didn’t really understand it. Can I get it out of my pocket?”
Trey loosened his grip, allowing the professor to move. Dr. Martinez pulled out a folded paper, his hands trembling slightly as he offered it to Brooks.
Brooks took it, unfolded it, stared at it, then grimaced. “No way.”
“What?” everyone seemed to say at once.
Brooks held it out for the others to see.
Nash and Amy leaned forward, inspecting it. It was a hand-drawn picture of an island with a bird flying over it.
Marshall grunted. “That place has been searched. That doesn’t mean anything.”
Chance moved to inspect it more closely. “But wait, look at the bottom right corner. There’s a small symbol.”
“What is it?” Porter asked.
Nash peered at the corner of the page. There, almost too small to notice, was a tiny symbol: a broken arrow crossed with a palm leaf.
“It’s both symbols,” Amy breathed, her fingers hovering over the drawing. “The broken arrow and the palm leaf. They’re connected.”
Nash shook his head, his mind racing through the implications. “And maybe it never had anything to do with the Rockwell gold then?”
“It didn’t have anything to do with it,” Dr. Martinez said. “I took a page out of Bill’s notes that explicitly said this was the conquistador gold.”
“No.” Amy looked stunned.
Dr. Martinez shrugged. “I couldn’t tell anyone, I had to let you think it was something else.”
A police officer approached their group. “We need to process this scene and take statements.”
Trey cocked an eyebrow at Brooks. “These guys need to come with us.”
Brooks nodded. “Of course. These two men are being detained for questioning in connection with an ongoing federal investigation. I’ll be taking them into custody.”
The cop looked confused. “I don’t think so.”
Brooks whipped out his phone. “I’ll make a call now.”
Dr. Martinez’s shoulders slumped in what looked like relief rather than defeat.
Brooks said a few words and moments later the cop was answering his phone. He frowned. “Fine, take them,” he said to Brooks.
As the police began securing the area, Brooks pulled Nash, Amy, and the others aside. “I’m having some agents come get these two, but we need to get back to the house, regroup,” he said quietly. “This changes everything.”
Nash looked at the map again, the significance of the symbol sinking in. “Bird Island,” he murmured. “Where the Stone family search began.”
Trey nodded grimly. “I guess we’re going back to where it all started.”