35. Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Benji
In retrospect, this wasn’t a good idea.
We’ve been hiking deeper and deeper into the woods for over an hour. I know where we are. I think.
Gus and Sam do not.
I hope.
“So,” I say, “Diana stormed off.” To distract them and hopefully keep them from remembering the way back, I’ve been telling them the entire story, from the night I met Gina to the massive blow-up last night, with one variation.
The ring isn’t lost. It’s in a safe spot, hidden in the hollow of a special tree, deep in the woods. Far, far away from Gina.
I’ll get them lost in the woods, give them the slip, and run back to the lodge. I’ll tell Gina everything, and we can figure out what to do next.
Also, I came up with this plan on the spot after being rudely woken from my sleep, so in my defense, it made sense at the time.
“You’re a dumbass,” Gus tells me for the hundredth time. “Are we there yet? I swear my blisters have blisters.”
They aren’t outdoorsy guys. They aren’t wearing the right shoes for a hike. The ones on their feet look like a cheap version of something Clay would wear.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say brightly. “Almost there.”
“Ugh,” Sam says, slapping another mosquito on his neck. The mosquitoes love him. Pink bites cover his arms, neck, and his face.
Sam and Gus aren’t their real names. At least, I doubt they are.
They also have guns. They haven’t pulled one on me, but they did make a point to show me.
Turns out their associate back in Vegas was given that ring by his father when he planned to propose to his girlfriend.
The ring had belonged to his grandmother, so there‘s some sentimental value. Maybe that’s a true story.
Maybe it’s just that they want the massive diamond back because it’s a massive diamond.
They haven’t admitted to being mobsters. They rolled their eyes when I asked. Maybe they prefer a different term.
I stop at the edge of the trail. There’s a gentle slope off to the right, the trees breaking up a little in the distance, like there might be a pond or lake, even though the map doesn’t show one. Milo said it was just off the path, and I’m pretty sure this is it.
“It’s through there,” I say, pointing.
Milo’s bog. If it’s the kind of place where no one would find my body, it’s probably the kind of place where these two can’t easily find their way out.
Hopefully, I can find my way out.
Okay, this isn’t just a bad plan. It’s a terrible plan.