Chapter 3
Three
Two days of silence, and Eden still wouldn’t look at him.
Teague leaned against the back wall of the conference room, arms crossed, watching the back of her head three rows up.
She sat perfectly still—posture erect, hands folded in her lap.
Professional. Contained. Everything she’d been since he’d walked out of her cabin and she’d made it crystal clear where she stood.
I’m done letting myself care about people who do.
The words had kept him up two nights running, replaying every time he closed his eyes. He was reckless. Dangerous. Someone who chased adrenaline without counting the cost.
And she wanted no part of it.
Or him.
The part that gutted him? Knowing why.
Her fiancé had died climbing. When she’d said it—voice brittle, eyes bright—something in Teague had wanted to pull her into his arms. Tell her he understood that kind of loss.
That kind of guilt that followed you everywhere, that wrapped around your chest in the dark and squeezed until you couldn’t breathe.
But it wasn’t his place.
Would never be his place, apparently.
Eden’s head turned slightly. As if she could feel his stare burning into the back of her skull.
Their eyes met for half a second.
Then she looked away. Her shoulders tensed.
Yeah. Two days hadn’t made it any less awkward.
“Thanks for coming.” Virgil moved to the front of the room, his voice cutting through the low murmur of conversation.
“First, congratulations on getting it done. You all stepped up, and now the park is officially closed, trails blocked, and jobs have been reassigned. I know many of you are as anxious as I am to get the park back open. You may think we haven’t taken the idea of finding the third chest of gold seriously, but nothing could be further from the truth.
However, we wanted to approach the search with focus and planning.
And with the removal of the tourists, we can work on a timeline that is purposeful but not emergency status. ”
Virgil nodded to someone in the front row. “Which brings me to the introduction of Marcus Roosevelt.”
A man stood and joined Virgil at the podium. Early thirties, maybe younger. Expensive hiking boots that had never seen a trail. Designer outdoor gear with the tags probably removed that morning. Dark hair styled with product. A Rolex catching the fluorescent light.
Everything about him screamed money and inexperience.
And something in his eyes. Guarded. Careful. The look of a man holding cards close to his chest.
Virgil gestured to Marcus. “He’s a great-great-great-grandson of Theodore Roosevelt, and his grandfather—Theodore Roosevelt’s great-grandson—hid all three chests of gold in the park back in the seventies. Marcus has information that might help us find the last one.”
A ripple of interest moved through the room.
Teague straightened, attention sharpening. One more treasure to find. And maybe—maybe—the park could reopen.
Marcus stepped forward, his expression serious.
“Thank you, Virgil. I’ll keep this brief.
” He pulled out a worn notebook—leather cover cracked with age, pages soft from decades of handling.
“I know you have heard that the chests were hid as a publicity stunt. Something done to boost tourism in the national parks. That isn’t exactly true. ”
A murmur traveled through the crowd, and Virgil raised his hand to quiet everyone.
“My grandfather hid the chests back in the seventies because he felt as if his three sons had lost what it meant to be a Roosevelt. He had hoped the search would bring the brothers together. However, it ended up dividing them more. All he told them was that they were all hidden in the same national park. My father spent years researching and searching, but without knowing which park to start in, it always seemed impossible. When it was clear they weren’t going to find them, the brothers spun the story to elicit the help of the public.
It worked for a while, but by the nineties, it had faded into myth. ”
Teague’s gaze shot to Virgil. The guy’s jaw was clenched tight.
Marcus cleared his throat. “After the first discovery over a month ago, we finally knew the park, and I started digging through my father’s old papers. And my grandfather’s.”
He opened the notebook, revealing pages of handwritten notes and copied documents—faded ink, careful diagrams, margin notes in different hands. “I’m sure you’re all familiar with the poem that describes the three locations. If not, we’re passing out copies for you.”
Half sheets of paper began to pass through the rows. Teague took one, then passed it on.
Where the river carved its deepest mark,
In shadows hidden in a crevasse dark,
A treasure rests in canyon deep,
Where ancient stones their secrets keep.
High above where eagles soar,
On cliffs where no footsteps came before,
Where birds find rest on rocky ledge,
A chest awaits at heaven’s edge.
In caverns hidden from the light,
Where darkness reigns both day and night,
Tucked in the rocks, it waits for you,
A chest hides where the spring flows through.
Marcus cleared his throat. “We believe the chests mentioned in the first and third stanzas are the two chests already found, so that leaves us with stanza two for our clue.”
“Where eagles soar, cliffs, rocky ledge?” Liam released a laugh. “Have you looked at the canyon? That doesn’t really narrow it down.”
No kidding. Teague’s jaw tightened. They had been going over that since the poem surfaced.
“True. But based on what I’ve found in the documents, I believe I can narrow down the search area significantly,” Marcus continued. “But I need help. Someone who knows this terrain. Someone with technical climbing experience and backcountry navigation skills.”
Noah leaned forward. “How much are we talking about narrowing it down?”
“Ten, maybe twenty locations. Maybe more.”
The room released a collective groan. That didn’t sound very narrow.
Marcus set the notebook on the table. “I don’t know the exact spot, but we’re narrowing it more every day.
However, all of our potential locations are cliff faces with natural ledges—small enough to conceal the chest, accessible by someone in the seventies, but closed to the public now.
And all of them are reachable only through a technical climb. ”
Noah shifted in his seat and pressed his hand against his side. “If this could end the madness and reopen the park”—he nodded slowly—“it’s worth pursuing.”
“Agreed.” Virgil looked around the room. “But I’m not ordering anyone to do this. This isn’t what you were hired for. It needs to be a volunteer.”
The room fell silent.
Teague could feel eyes turning toward him. The unspoken question hanging as heavy as the Arizona heat.
But something about Marcus was off.
Not wrong, exactly. The guy seemed genuine enough. His research looked legitimate. But there was something he wasn’t saying. Some piece he was holding back. The guardedness in his eyes. The way his fingers tightened on the notebook when he talked about his family.
Marcus Roosevelt wanted to find that cache. That much was real.
But why?
To help reopen the park? To collect the money? To make things right? Or was there something else?
With Noah still injured, it really fell to him or Liam. And if Marcus was hiding something—if this search turned dangerous—Teague wasn’t going to let his friends put themselves at risk.
He pushed off the wall and moved forward. “I’ll do it.”
Heads turned. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Eden’s lips press into a thin line. Her shoulders going rigid.
He didn’t look at her.
“Thank you.” Marcus’s handshake was firm, but his palms were soft. This guy lived behind a desk. Probably hadn’t touched a real rock face in his life.
Virgil nodded, relief crossing his weathered face. “I was hoping you’d volunteer. You know the backcountry better than almost anyone here, and your technical skills are solid.”
“Glad to help.” Teague released Marcus’s grip. “We need to find this cache. The sooner the better.”
“All right then.” Virgil checked his watch. “Meeting adjourned. Teague, Marcus, stay back a minute. The rest of you—thanks for coming. You all have your reassignments.”
The room emptied in a shuffling of chairs and boots on linoleum. Marcus stepped toward Teague, that grateful-but-guarded expression still in place. “Do you think we can hit the trail in the morning?”
Teague lifted a brow. “There’s a lot we need to decide before we hit any trail.
Not to mention, it sounds like we may need to narrow the search a little more.
And like Virgil said, this isn’t emergency status.
We want to be timely but purposeful, and that takes preparation.
Not to mention I would like a team of more than just two. ”
Who, he wasn’t exactly sure yet.
“Right.” Marcus clapped his hands—the gesture too quick, too eager. “I have survey maps and copies of the historical documents in my truck. I’ll go get them.”
“Let’s meet in the ranger station in ten.” Virgil glanced at his watch and followed Marcus out.
Teague walked over to grab his pack when Eden’s voice stopped him cold.
“You can’t seriously be doing this.” She stood a few feet away. Arms crossed. Jaw set. Those ice-blue eyes sharp enough to cut.
Teague kept his tone light. “Hello to you too. Nice weather we’re having. How’s your day going?”
“Teague.”
“Eden.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. It’s very dry and hot. Classic Arizona.”
Eden’s eyes flashed. “There’s something off about Marcus Roosevelt.”
“I noticed.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Then why did you volunteer?”