Chapter 19
Caleb
The tension in the underground chamber is intense as Richard and Margret stare into one another's eyes. I move closer to Lana, not just so that I’m near her but also so that I can see everyone’s reactions.
“I think you should tell her, Richard,” I say quietly. “No more secrets.”
Richard’s shoulders slump as he nods reluctantly. “You’re right.” He turns to Margret, whose face is a mixture of hurt and confusion. “I’m sorry I’ve kept this from you. The truth is, Thomas Wolf wasn’t just your great-grandfather. He was my great-great-uncle. We’re distant cousins.”
Margret’s hand flies to her mouth. “What? All these years working for me, and you never thought to mention we’re family?”
“I was trying to protect you,” Richard explains, his voice strained. “I’ve been tracking NTM—Northern Tier Mining—for decades. They’re the ones who really killed your brother, not Danny. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
As Richard continues explaining everything—the corporate crimes, the century-old murders, his research—I scan the room more carefully.
Something doesn’t add up. According to Wolf’s journal, this chamber should contain substantial gold reserves, but as I sweep my flashlight across the shelves and corners, I see plenty of documents but no gold bars, only the gold nuggets weighing down the corners of the map on the table.
“Richard,” I interrupt when he pauses for breath. “The journal mentioned significant gold deposits stored with the evidence. Where is it?”
Richard stops mid-sentence, looking around with sudden concern. “It should be here. Thomas documented at least fifty pounds of processed gold bars stored in this chamber, unless NTM got here first. But no, they couldn’t have otherwise; they would have taken everything of importance.”
Lana moves toward the back of the room, her flashlight beam dancing across the dusty floor. “Maybe it’s—” Her words cut off as she stumbles, catching herself against the wall. “Whoa, I tripped over—”
We all turn as her light illuminates what she stumbled on—an old steamer trunk partially hidden behind the last shelf. Its brass fittings are green with age, but the lock appears intact.
“That wasn’t on the inventory,” Richard says, moving quickly toward it.
Lana kneels beside the trunk, examining it. “The lock is broken,” she notes, carefully lifting the lid.
The trunk creaks open, revealing not gold, but more papers—and a sealed envelope on top, yellowed with age. Lana picks it up, turning it over in her hands.
“It’s addressed to ‘The Finder,’” she says, looking up at me with those striking green eyes.
“Open it,” Jake says. “You’re the finder.”
She replies with a nervous laugh, “We all are.” Carefully, she breaks the seal and unfolds the brittle paper inside. As she reads, her expression shifts from curiosity to surprise.
“‘To whoever finds this chamber,’” she reads aloud.
“‘If you are reading this, then the gold is no longer here. I have moved it for safekeeping, as I fear my enemies grow closer by the day. The true treasure lies beneath the place where water meets stone, where the light of the equinox touches the mark of the wolf. The gold will serve its purpose when the time is right, not before. Trust no one who seeks wealth over justice. – Thomas Wolf, January 14, 1881.’ “
“Two months before he died,” Richard murmurs.
“Water meets stone... the equinox...” Jake repeats thoughtfully. “Could he mean the waterfall on the north side of the property? There’s an outcropping there shaped like a wolf’s head if you look at it from the right angle.”
“The spring equinox is less than two weeks away,” Connor adds. “March 20th.”
“We need to get these documents to safety first,” Kane says decisively. “If NTM is watching the property, we don’t have much time.”
Everyone springs into action, carefully gathering portfolios, photographs, and papers. I help Lana fill the trunk with documents and anything else we can grab.
“We should’ve taken pictures of everything before we moved it,” Mia suggests, photographing the map on the table before snagging it off and carefully rolling it.
Richard moves to a shelf near the back wall and reaches for a small metal box tucked behind some ledgers. “We need to find the original deed to the mine,” he explains. “It will prove the Hawthornes never legally—”
A sharp click echoes through the chamber, followed by a mechanical grinding sound from somewhere in the walls. We all freeze.
“Nobody move,” I command, recognizing the sound of a triggered mechanism. My eyes lock with Lana’s across the room, and I see the same realization dawning on her face.
“Oh. My. God. It’s a booby trap,” she whispers.
A low rumbling begins overhead, and small particles of dirt sift down from the ceiling. The timber supports creak ominously.
“Out!” I shout, grabbing the nearest documents. “Everyone out now!”
Jake helps Ella and Nora, who had wisely stayed near the entrance, while Kane is already ushering Kori and Mia out of the room toward the stairs, with Connor right behind them, carrying an armful of records.
Richard stands frozen, the metal box clutched to his chest. Lana is still beside the trunk, gathering as many papers as she can.
“Leave it!” I yell at them both, crossing the room in three quick strides. “We need to go!”
A larger chunk of ceiling crashes down near the center of the table, sending dust billowing through the chamber. The rumbling grows louder, and I can hear the support beams starting to splinter.
“Margret, go!” Richard shouts, pushing her toward the exit before turning back for more documents.
I grab Lana’s arm, pushing her toward the stairs as more debris rains down. “Come on!”
She clutches a bundle of papers to her chest but allows me to guide her toward the exit. Scout is already there, barking frantically.
We’re almost at the stairs when I hear Richard cry out behind us. I turn to see him pinned beneath a fallen beam, the metal box still gripped tightly in his hand.
“Caleb come on!” Lana urges, pulling my arm while she continues toward the stairs.
“I have to help him.” I don’t hesitate, rushing to Richard’s side as the chamber continues to collapse around us. The beam is heavy, but adrenaline surges through me as I brace myself and lift with everything I have, ignoring the screaming pain in my leg.
“Crawl out,” I grunt through gritted teeth.
Richard drags himself free, still clutching the metal box. “The documents,” he gasps, looking back at the table now half-buried in debris.
“Forget them,” I snap, hauling him to his feet. “Move!”
We stagger toward the doorway as the ceiling gives way behind us. I push Richard ahead of me to the stairs, the roar of collapsing earth deafening now. Something strikes my shoulder hard, sending a jolt of pain down my arm, but I keep moving.
The daylight at the top of the stairs seems impossibly far away. My lungs burn with dust, and my vision narrows to that single bright point. I can hear Lana calling my name, her voice cutting through the chaos even as I feel the stairs underneath me start to collapse.
Just a few more steps. Just a little further.
The ground beneath me shudders violently, and I lunge forward, throwing myself up the last few stairs as the world collapses behind me.
I burst out in a cloud of dust, strong hands grabbing me and pulling me clear as the last of the underground chamber implodes behind me. For several seconds, I can’t see anything through the billowing dirt, can’t hear anything over the thunderous rumble, and my own ragged breathing.
“Caleb!” It’s Lana’s voice, frantic and close. Her hands are on my face, brushing away grit. “Are you okay?”
I blink dust from my eyes, coughing violently as my lungs try to expel the debris. “I’m fine,” I manage between coughs, my shoulder throbs with each one. “Everyone okay?”
“All accounted for,” Kane says, handing me a bottle of water. “That was too damn close.”
As the dust settles, I take stock of our group.
Jake and Connor are helping Richard to his feet; the older man is still clutching that metal box like his life depends on it.
Margret stands nearby, her face ashen with shock.
Ella has Nora wrapped protectively in her arms, the girl’s eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement, and Kori and Mia are stuffing documents in crates for transport.
And Lana—her hair now dulled to a dusty mauve—is kneeling beside me, concern etched across her features. “You’re bleeding,” she says, gently touching my temple.
I wince, only now becoming aware of the warm trickle down the side of my face. “Just a scratch.”
She gives me a look that says otherwise. “Let me see your shoulder.”
Before I can protest, she’s carefully pulling aside my jacket, revealing what will undoubtedly become an impressive bruise. Her fingers are gentle as they probe the area, checking for breaks.
“Nothing seems fractured,” she concludes, “but you’ll be feeling this tomorrow.”
“I’m feeling it now,” I admit with a grimace as I push myself to my feet. My leg protests sharply, reminding me that I’ve pushed it well beyond its limits today.
Richard approaches us, his face streaked with dirt and blood from a cut on his cheek. “Thank you,” he says. “You saved my life.”
I nod, accepting his gratitude without a word. My attention is already shifting to our next problem—the documents we managed to rescue and what to do with them.