Exiled (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 4) Page 2

  They finally reached the hangar’s blessed warmth.

  Harding closed the door behind them.

  “You’re here.” Jasper King, one of Harding’s team members who worked out of their Denver office looked up from a conference table tucked into an alcove at the structure’s far end. “Just got Shirley and Dude’s financials from Briggs. Nothing remarkable, but their credit card usage laid out a nice breadcrumb trail.” He held out his arms to Olivia, welcoming her into a hug, which she gladly accepted. “How’re you holding up? Eden wanted to come, but at the last minute our sitter bailed.”

  “That was sweet of her. I’m fine. Sort of.” She faintly smiled. “I’m sure we’ll find my grandparents lost in a canyon, living off granola bars and Ensure.”

  Jasper laughed and then made a face. “Let’s hope they’ve at least got good flavors of each.”

  Jasper led her to a chrome and black leather chair at the head of a black lacquer table. The alcove looked straight out of a high-rise corporate office, complete with a black leather sofa, pricey-looking oil landscapes and a buffet loaded with an assortment of beverages and snacks.

  “Hungry? Thirsty?” Jasper asked.

  “No, thank you.” She settled into her chair. “Let’s just talk about this financial trail you found.”

  Harding took a Snickers before joining her and Jasper at the table.

  “The bulk of their finances look unremarkable. Retirement accounts, pensions, savings. No major changes in anything until three weeks ago when they landed at Salt Lake International Airport and rented an SUV. From the airport, they stocked up on supplies at everywhere from REI to Wal-Mart, then headed southeast on US HWY 6. According to their MasterCard, they checked into the Super 7 in Green Fork then had dinner at Ollie’s Truck Stop. Now, the curious thing about that is that they paid two hundred and seventy-three dollars and fifty cents for their meal.”

  Harding whistled.

  “At a truck stop?” Olivia frowned. “Could they have met other people? Paid the whole bill?”

  “That was my initial thought. Although, according to the website, the place does sell souvenirs. Shirley and Dude also could have stocked up on T-shirts.”

  “I suppose,” Olivia said.

  “Only way to know for sure,” Harding said, “is to get down there. Show their photos. Also, we’ll see if they’re able to pull up a detailed copy of their bill.”

  “Good idea,” Olivia said. “What did my grandparents do next?”

  “In the morning, they drove southwest to a speck on the map, called Goblin.”

  “What?” Olivia and Harding asked in unison.

  “I kid you not,” Jasper said. “It’s close to Goblin Valley State Park, renowned for its freaky landscape. They stayed two nights at Rex’s Motor Inn, ate fairly regularly at Spook’s Diner, topped off their gas at Norm’s Convenient Mart, and spent a couple hundred bucks at Dollar General, presumably for more supplies. That’s the last time any of their cards were used. Since Harding relayed they were on some kind of treasure hunt, I assume from there they went into the backcountry, but this place is remote. Like seriously vast. Like you’d have to be crazy to…”

  “We get it.” Harding’s tone was gruff.

  “Ohmygod . . .” Olivia bowed her head, wringing her hands. “What are we going to do?”

  “Not panic.” Harding rolled his chair back to stand, then plant himself behind her. With his hands bracing her shoulders, he said, “I promise, we’ll find them. But you have to stay calm, okay? Trust me that Jasper and the rest of the team know what we’re doing. We love Shirley and Dude as much as you and are determined to get them home.”

  She leaned into his touch, closed her eyes and tried slowing her runaway pulse.

  Her grandma hated being cold. It was why they’d moved from Michigan to Florida right after they’d married. Thinking of her now, possibly injured, exposed to the elements . . .

  Olivia bit her inner lip hard enough to taste coppery blood.

  “Relax,” Harding said. “We’ve got this.”

  As if on cue, one of the hangar’s supersized garage-style doors hummed into action. The sudden cold air made Olivia shiver.

  A driver steered a massive black SUV onto the gleaming white floor. After cutting the engine and opening the door, out hopped Sawyer Crow, another member of the team from Denver. She’d met him on a few occasions while she and Harding dated. He typically wore jeans, a white T-shirt and a battered straw cowboy hat. This night proved no exception to his clothing rule. Black cowboy boots matched his long black hair. A Native American, his skin was golden caramel-toned. “Heard y’all might need a ride.”

  The smell of exhaust hung in the still air.

  “Good to see you, man.” Harding crossed to him to shake his hand. “Thanks for the speedy delivery.”

  Jasper gravitated toward his friends.

  “No problem. I’m assuming my two speeding tickets will be welcomed on my expense account?”

  “Absolutely.” Harding laughed.

  Olivia wandered over. “Hey, Sawyer. Thanks for coming.”

  “Of course.” He gave her a sideways hug. “How have you been? Harding’s been an ass ever since you two cooled off.”

  “Stow it,” Harding said.

  “Sure, boss.” Sawyer held up his hands in surrender. “Anyway, wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

  She sighed. “Me too.”

  Sawyer handed keys to Harding. “I got this hottie from a local outfitting company that specializes in Canyon Country treks. She’s gassed up and good to go. There are two spare tires on top and extra fuel. I’ve got camping gear and food for a week.”

  “You rock.”

  “I know.” He grinned. “While you and Olivia scout out what went down in Green Fork, I’ll be working the hardcore treasure hunting angle. A quick search resulted in four urban myths for supposed treasures, but nothing as big as what Dude described. I found quite a bit on El Diablo’s Gold, but mostly touristy stuff. If there’s enough substance to the story to warrant his and Shirley’s home getting trashed, I’ll sniff it out.”

  “You talked to him about it?” Harding asked.

  “Briefly. We were working the grill during one of Shirley’s epic Sunday suppers when he brought it up. He told me he had a map but didn’t show it to me. He went on for a while bragging about how he was going to find millions in lost Incan treasure that had been hidden by monks. Or was it Franciscan friars? Either way, he had the only map and was not only going to be rich, but famous.”

  Jasper snorted. “From experience, if I never saw another gold statue in my life, it would be too soon. Eden and I went through hell finding her father and his Nazi treasure. A lot of good people died. If you ask me, it wasn’t worth it.”

  “Could we please not talk about good people dying?” Olivia asked.

  “Agreed.” Harding asked her, “Ready to go?”

  Swallowing back tears, she nodded.

  “Thanks again, guys.” She hugged Jasper and Sawyer, then made a mad dash for the SUV before losing her composure.

  All of this was beyond foreign. And for what? She fought a flash of fury with her grandpa for not only putting himself in danger, but her grandmother too. What had he been thinking?

  She and Harding had left Jacksonville so fast that she hadn’t even had time to pack clothes. On the way to the airport, she’d called the hospital where she worked, arranging for indefinite leave.

  How ironic was it that the sole reason she’d broken her beautiful relationship with Harding was because of his constant knack for finding trouble, yet this reunion had been brought about by her own brush with danger. What did that mean?

  Or was it just fate’s idea of a cruel joke?

  3

  Red Falls, Utah

  “I PROMISED LIV we’d be home for Christmas, but nooooo. Now, we’ve even missed New Year’s Eve. What’s it been? Three weeks since we left Florida?” Shirley Burnett hugged herself to ward off
the cavern’s damp chill. They sat in the dark for hours, terrified to move lest it alert the gunmen of their presence.

  “Sorry,” Dude said. His lone word hung in the eerie stillness, broken only by the steady echo of water dripping from stalagmites into a pool. When he’d occasionally shone his light into it, the water’s clear beauty stood in stark contrast to their perilous situation.

  “You should be. All our lives I’ve heard about this stupid treasure. Ever since buying the new map, you’ve been obsessed. I thought it was just a hobby, so why in the world are men now shooting at us? None of this makes sense.”

  “Don’t you get it? I found it, muffin, the ultimate treasure.”

  “No, you didn’t. Otherwise, they would have taken the gold and left us down here to die. Why were they still chasing us?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”

  “Clearly, you haven’t thought about a lot of things other than that stupid map. What is Olivia going to do without us? She’s already lost so much.”

  “We all have to die someday.”

  Shirley landed a smack to the nearest body part she could find in the darkness. She thought it was his shoulder but couldn’t be sure and didn’t much care.

  “Ouch! Why’d you do that?”

  “Because I refuse to die down here. I’m chairwoman of the condo’s Valentine’s Day dance. Plus, we have our fiftieth wedding anniversary in May. I also plan on plenty of dancing there.”

  “I hate dancing.”

  “You hate anything that doesn’t have to do with this stupid treasure.”

  “What is that I hear?” called a male voice from the inky black. “Are we having a lover’s quarrel?”

  Shirley scooted closer to Dude, hugging him for all she was worth. She might hate him in the moment, but she’d loved the darned fool her entire life.

  She gasped when a figure approached. The head glowed green.

  “Ah . . . Look what I found. Palmer! Got ’em!”

  He removed what she could only imagine were some sort of high tech night vision goggles. He flipped on a headlamp, shook two chemical light sticks only to toss them into the pool where they glowed nuclear green, bathing the cavern in eerie light. Finally, he shone a flashlight directly into her eyes.

  Blinking against the sudden glare, Shirley held her husband tighter.

  These weren’t the same men they’d seen earlier. The ones with rifles she recalled having met in town. None of them had high-tech gear.

  “Whatever you want,” Dude said with a firm set to his jaw, “we don’t have.”

  “But you see,” The man crouched in front of them, “there’s a good chance you do. The funny thing is, you don’t even know it.”

  “You already have the gold,” Dude said. “It was back in that first chamber. Just take it and leave us be.”

  The man sighed. “If only it were that simple. The chest you found? All it contained was a pair of boots, a few rusty cans and a bottle. What I’m seeking aren’t historic trinkets but something far more valuable.”

  “What are you talking about?” Dude narrowed his gaze.

  “In due time, I’ll be happy to explain. First, let’s get you and your lovely wife out of these dank surroundings. When I torture information out of good people, I prefer a cozier setting and a nice dry white wine. Much more civilized, don’t you think?”

  Shirley opened her mouth to scream, but during the stranger’s speech, more men flooded the room. One of them gagged her, while the other tied her hands behind her back. A second man did the same to Dude.

  Terror lodged in her throat while her heart pounded terrifyingly loud in her ears.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  Their trip was supposed to have been a fun adventure—not a nightmare.

  “I think,” the man said while two of his goons manhandled her onto her feet, “that we’ll start with fingernails. I know ladies can be vain about their manicures, so I’ll let you choose which ones I take.”

  Shirley struggled and tried screaming, but that only turned her captors meaner. The gag’s dryness and rough texture made her retch. Every forced step made her body hurt all over, grinding like glass shards into her lower back.

  Tears of sheer terror spilled. But with the gag firmly in place, there was no outward sound, only the internal riot of her pounding heart and silent screams.

  After forty-nine years of marriage, was this how she and Dude would die?

  4

  Green Fork, Utah

  HARDING WAS CONCERNED about Olivia. She hadn’t slept since leaving Florida. Not that he had, but he was at least trained in how to deal with sleep deprivation. She looked beautiful but exhausted.

  It was three a.m. by the time they reached the town where Shirley and Dude had first stopped for rest, supplies and, he surmised, to procure information.

  At the truck stop where their receipts showed them as having eaten, he held open the door for Olivia to enter. “Ladies first.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Seat yourselves!” A waitress sung from behind a long counter.

  Olivia faintly smiled before zeroing in on a booth.

  Harding would have preferred sitting at a counter stool where staff tended to be chattier.

  She slid onto a turquoise vinyl seat, crossed her arms on the table, then rested her head atop of them.

  “Long day?” the waitress asked. Her engraved plastic nametag read Ginger. The place was dead. Only two other tables were occupied, both with one man each. Harding assumed by the rigs parked outside that they were truckers.

  “Yes,” Olivia said.

  “I’ve had worse,” Harding said.

  The buxom, bottled red waitress laughed, landing menus in front of them. She wore a turquoise T-shirt with Ollie’s Truck-o-Teria written in blaze orange across the front pocket and back. Around her neck hung one of those gold cursive name necklaces. Ginger had been spelled out in green rhinestones. “While you two figure it out, can I get you a couple of coffees or iced teas?”

  “Do you have hot tea?” Olivia asked.

  “Sure. But no fancy flavors. Just plain old Lipton.”

  “That’s fine. Thanks.”

  “Black coffee for me,” Harding said.

  “Will do.” The waitress left. She soon returned with their drinks. “Give me a wave when you’re ready to order.”

  Harding thanked her.

  “Aren’t you going to ask about my grandparents?” Olivia had three photos of them stashed in a side pocket of her purse.

  “All in due time. Let me do the talking.”

  “Why? They’re my grandparents.” She drummed her short, clear-polished nails in a rapid-fire staccato against the white and gold speckled tabletop.

  He covered her hand with his, trying to calm her, but all his gesture earned him was a dirty look.

  “What’s that about?” She nodded toward her still covered hand. “We’re not together.”

  “You need to calm down.”

  “And you think that’s going to do it?”

  “Sorry.” He removed his hand in favor of downing a few sips of coffee.

  “No. I’m sorry. I still can’t believe we’re here. Together. It feels surreal.”

  “Lean on me.” He took her hand again, this time squeezing hard enough to let her know that no matter what, he wasn’t letting her or her grandparents go. “I get why we’re not an item, Liv, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be a team.”

  She squeezed him back. “I know. Thank you for all you’ve already done.”

  The waitress took their orders.

  When she left, Harding tried making small talk with Olivia, but it was tough chatting about movies or sports when nothing mattered save for finding Dude and Shirley. He should have at least talked about the operation, but even that felt forced. How had he and Olivia grown so far apart in such a short time? They used to lie in bed for hours, kissing, holding hands, whispering hopes and dreams. Now, they were acquaintances. Nothin
g more. He hated that fact—especially, since he was the cause.

  Ginger returned with their meals. “You two passing through on your way to somewhere exotic?”

  “No.” Harding couldn’t have bought a more perfect intro. “We’re actually looking for my wife’s grandparents.” He ignored Olivia’s shock in favor of laying it on thick for the person who could be their only tangible link to the elderly couple. “They came out here hiking and to do a little amateur treasure hunting but were due home by Christmas. My wife’s grandfather has a heart condition, so naturally, we’re concerned.”

  “Sure, sure. We get a lot of sleuths around here. Everyone thinks they’ll be the ones to find El Diablo’s Gold. But if you ask me, it’s an urban myth. I wouldn’t put it past those folks on the Goblin City Council to have made the whole thing up to raise their tourism numbers for the park.”

  “Is the treasure supposedly in Goblin Valley State Park?”

  “No. From what my boys tell me, it’s way more remote.”

  Harding shook his head. “I hate hearing that.” He took a bite of his burger.

  Olivia showed the waitress her grandparents’ photos. “Have you seen them? According to their credit cards, they ate here and spent quite a lot of money.”

  “I’m sorry, sugar.” After staring a decent amount of time at the photos, she added, “They just don’t look familiar. But I only work the late shift. If I were you, I’d come back in the morning. The day shift gals are up on all the best gossip.”

  “Thanks,” Harding said. “We’ll for sure try that route.”

  “Ginger, hon?” A trucker seated a few booths over waved his coffee cup.

  “Duty’s calling. When my shift ends, I’ll tell the girls you’re coming. That way, they’ll have time to refresh their memories.”

  “You’re a doll,” Harding said with a smile and wink combo he’d perfected over the years. “Thank you so much.”

  “My pleasure. Y’all enjoy your meals.”

  “What was that?” Olivia asked under her breath the moment the waitress stepped out of earshot. “You’re a doll? I’m your wife?”