Chapter 8 #4
“That would be huge though.” He was warming to the idea now. “Virgil might actually go for it. Practical. Necessary. And—”
The door burst open.
Meg’s heart lurched. Her hand tightened on Noah’s.
Tevin—the son of one the senior rangers—stuck his head in, face flushed with excitement. “You guys hear about the solar storm?”
“What solar storm?” Noah straightened immediately.
“Massive one. Biggest in years.” Tevin’s eyes were bright, practically sparking. “Started hitting Earth’s magnetic field a few hours ago. They’re saying it might produce northern lights visible this far south.”
Northern lights over the Grand Canyon. Any other day, Meg might have been excited.
Instead, something clicked. “That could affect radio communications.”
“Definitely.” Tevin nodded. “Especially long-range frequencies. Satellite phones should be okay, but standard radio might be spotty.”
Noah was already pulling up data on the computer. “Why didn’t anyone mention this earlier?”
“It ramped up fast. Weather service just issued the alert.” Tevin was already backing toward the door. “Anyway, thought you’d want to know. Off to get cake from the lodge.”
He disappeared, leaving them staring at each other.
The silence was different. Less ominous. More…hopeful?
“The radios.” Meg moved closer to the screen—real-time solar data scrolling in waves of red and orange. “That’s why they haven’t checked in. The storm’s interfering.”
“Maybe.” Noah’s voice was guarded. He wanted to believe it.
“We should tell Virgil. If it’s the solar storm, he needs to know.”
They found Virgil in his office, phone pressed to his ear, weathered face creased with concern. He held up one finger—wait—and finished the conversation.
“Understood. Yes, I’ll let you know. Thanks for the heads-up.” He hung up. “Have the teams checked in yet?”
“No.” Noah stepped forward. “But we think it’s the solar storm. The magnetic interference could be affecting long-range radio.”
Virgil nodded slowly. “That would explain it. I’m hoping that’s all it is.”
All it is?
Meg caught the edge in his voice. “What else could it be?”
Virgil leaned back, leather creaking beneath him. His fingers drummed against the desk—a nervous tell she’d never noticed.
“That was a contact at park-service headquarters.”
“And?” Noah’s voice was tight.
“There’s an issue with Marcus Roosevelt.” Virgil moved to the window overlooking the canyon. “Another family member came forward. Claims he’s also a Roosevelt descendant. But his story doesn’t match Marcus’s account.”
Meg’s stomach dropped.
“So one of them is lying?”
“That’s what headquarters is trying to determine.” Virgil turned back, expression grim. “The other claimant says part of the Roosevelt inheritance is tied up in whatever treasure is hidden down there. Not just gold. Documents. Letters. A key, maybe. The information isn’t real clear.”
“Marcus never mentioned any of that.” Noah’s hand had found his pocket again. “Why wouldn’t he tell us?”
“Maybe he didn’t think it mattered. Or maybe he knew we wouldn’t let him go if we understood how personally invested he was.”
The implications settled over Meg like cold fog. Marcus was down there with Eden and Teague. With ulterior motives none of them had understood. And they had no way to reach the team.
“The solar storm could explain the radio silence,” she started.
“Or it’s convenient timing.” Noah’s voice had gone flat. Dangerous. “They’re out there with someone who might not be trustworthy, and with the chopper down, we have no way to warn them.”
Virgil held up one hand. “We wait. With both teams out of communication, the storm seems the likely culprit. And you know more than anyone, Noah, that events can cause a delay in communication. I’ve spent a lot of time with Marcus the past few days, and I think he has a good heart.”
Wait? Just…wait?
Teague and Liam were responsible for keeping their teams safe without the full picture.
Meg looked at Noah. Really looked.
The tension had returned full force—etched into every line of his body, the set of his jaw, the white-knuckle grip on his pocket. He was imagining worst-case scenarios. She could practically see them playing out behind his eyes.
“He’s right. It’s the solar storm,” she said firmly. More firmly than she felt. “Has to be. They’ll check in once the interference clears.”
Noah met her eyes. Held them. Something passed between them—gratitude, maybe. Or just the shared weight of hoping she was right.
“That being said”—Virgil removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose—“I need you to man the radios round the clock in case they do check in.”
Noah nodded and sent her a look. So much for a romantic date anytime soon.
His thumb traced a circle on her palm.
“When this is over,” he said quietly, “we’re having that picnic. Even if I have to kidnap you and knock out any ranger that gets in my way.”
“That’s very romantic. Also possibly assault.”
“Worth it.”
Meg smiled despite the worry settling into her chest like a stone.
She really hoped it was the solar storm.
And not something else.