Brian excused himself after dinner, wanting a walk outside. Honey looked at him questioningly but he shook his head slightly. He really wanted to be alone. Their walk the night before had contributed to his low mood.

Walking with Honey, he had taken her hand, more out of reflex than anything. It was undeniably romantic, to walk along the cliffs with his ex-girlfriend. Which was probably how they ended up in front of the Inn, making out like teenagers again. Things had cooled down when they realized there was no place private they could go to finish things, except the car, and neither had any form of protection.

He pulled her to him and hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head before he suggested they go to their rooms.

Without really thinking, he found himself walking towards the cliff, staring out over the water.

The hunched over figure sitting on a rock surprised him, and he hesitated in his approach. The fedora hat was sitting jauntily on her head, wild hair trying to escape it, but he recognized the green jacket. It was Erica Sentel, he realized, writing furiously on a pad of paper.

Brian started to turn back when she called out to him.

“I know you’re there, you don’t need to run off.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” he answered, noting the breeze gently lifted a few strands of the messy, light blonde and hot pink tendrils of her hair.

She turned, and scrunched up her nose to raise her glasses. “It’s okay. I wasn’t busy. You’re one of the detectives, aren’t you?”

“Not exactly,” he hedged, running one hand through his thick, dark hair. “I’m a doctor.”

“You can come closer, I don’t bite,” she was looking back at her notepad. “Unless I’m eating. And really, that’s more chewing than biting. Biting is only necessary to separate the food. But being a doctor, you’d know that.”

Brian blinked a couple of times as he processed the odd comments, and found himself moving closer to her.

“Yes, I suppose biting and chewing are two different things,” he agreed. “What are you working on?”

She held out the notepad to him and he took it, studying the messy scrawl. It was formulas of some sort, he thought. Not chemistry, but numbers in various patterns.

“You trying to find the treasure by numbers?” he asked lightly. Now was as good a time as any to question her, he thought.

“Something like that.”

She finally raised her head to look directly at him and Brian noted with amusement her glasses enlarged her eyes slightly, in an almost comical, owlish, fashion. She had a pretty mouth that seemed vaguely familiar to him, fair skin and he wasn’t sure about the eyes, though it was hard to tell under the moonlight reflecting off the lenses. They magnified her eyes a bit though, adding to her oddness.

“Interesting concept. I’m pretty good with math but that’s not exactly clear to me.” He handed the pad back to her, taking in the details of her hands. Slender, long fingers, no rings, nails worn down to the quick.

“It’s not about being good with math,” she answered. “It’s about understanding the numbers.”

Brian began to wonder if the woman had forgotten to take some sort of medication.

“So you’re a mathematician?” he asked.

“I suppose so,” she said thoughtfully, staring out over the water. “Logic gets people further than most want to admit. People get so caught up in looking outside the box that they forget to look inside, at the very heart of the matter.”

Brian found himself smiling at her.

“And what is at the very heart of the matter?” he asked. “Finding the treasure and being rich?”

“Sure,” she said casually. “Who wouldn’t want it? Isn’t that why you’re here? Fortune and glory, as Indiana Jones, once said.”

“I’m here because?” Brian caught himself. “A friend invited me.”

“The blonde? No, I’d guess the brunette. Though I suppose she’s not really a brunette, she’s kind of an in-between. I wonder what they would call her? Blonette? Brulonde?”

Brian felt his face flush at the mention of Honey. “The blonde is my sister, the other her best friend.”

She made a non-committal noise.

“I’m Brian, by the way,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Erica. But everyone calls me Mixen.” She reached up and took his hand, surprising him with the strength behind her shake. Her sleeve fell back, revealing a sturdy sports digital watch with too many buttons for Brian’s liking. It reminded him of Jim’s watch, perfect for hiking and camping and outdoors stuff.

“How’d you get that for a nickname?” he asked. She was pretty, he was thinking, trying to see past the hair, hat and glasses.

“I don’t really remember,” she answered vaguely, but Brian realized she was suddenly concentrating very hard on her notepad and numbers.

“You here alone?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yep. Had some vacation time I needed to use and figured this would be the best way. You can sit if you like, though you might wrinkle your pants.”

Brian tried not to let himself turn red. Trixie was forever teasing him about always looking polished and starching his shirts and ironing his pants so the creases were obvious. He joined her on the large flat rock though, and watched her as she wrote. She was left handed, and the numbers formed quickly under her hand.

“So what makes you take a vacation with your sister and friend? Is she trying to hook you two up?”

“Ah, no,” he said quickly. “We’re just close. The guy is another friend and we’ve been buds for years. We often take trips together with our other brother and a couple of other friends. They couldn’t make it this time.”

“Are you in some sort of perverted sexual group?” she asked suddenly, looking up and focusing the big, eerie eyes on him.

“What?” he demanded in shock. “No!”

“Just checking,” she shrugged. “There are lots of them out there you know, traveling in groups and pretending to be old friends. They engage in all sorts of sexual debauchery.”

Brian just stared at her. With a faint smile she stood, notepad in hand.

“It was nice to meet you, Brian. You’re kind of cute for a stuffy doctor who irons his pants.”

Mixen strolled off, leaving a gaping Brian Belden behind her.

***

“I don’t think she’s any real threat.” Brian told Trixie. “She’s got a couple screws loose, actually.”

Dan chuckled. “Sounds like she flummoxed you, old buddy.”

Brian just shook her head, not wanting to admit all the ways she had affected him. “She’s odd. Real odd. Doesn’t seem to have a social filter of any sort, either. It might be some form of high functioning autism.”

“It could just be a lack of tact,” Honey replied. She didn’t want to admit she was a bit bothered by the dazed look on Brian’s face as he spoke about the resident weirdo.

“I spent the day tailing our friend Mr. Congeniality, Johnny Dentan,” Trixie said. “I don’t trust him. He’s squirrely and rude. He seemed to spend a lot of time studying the ground. I’d almost say he was tracking something, but tracking what, is anybody’s guess. Honey, what’d you come up with?”

“Mr. Matten spent the day in the caves, exploring the tunnel. Miss Trask is going to need to hire guards or security of some sort to keep people from poking around. Matten may have denied any interest in the treasure yesterday, but he’s looking for it. His beady little eyes never left the back walls, as if searching for cracks that might lead to a hidden door.”

“We can introduce him to the old dumbwaiter,” Trixie said cheerfully. The others chuckled.

“Most of the staff is pretty friendly. Bloody Bart is something of a moron,” Dan volunteered. “Kind of a surfer dude. He doesn’t seem to care at all about the place, but he has no ambition to do anything else. Maria found three different ways to give me her phone number,” he made a face. “Weasel is Mr. Helpful, and Miss Nola, well, she’s a pistol.”

Trixie noted with amusement how he referred to Maria by first name, but added “Miss” to Nola.

“Brad Gentler isn’t the friendliest either,” Brian said. “Once he realized he couldn’t bring all his equipment, he seems to have lost interest, and spent the day roaming the grounds. I think he may check out of here soon. I’m pretty sure he was stoned or high most of the day.”

“What about the map?” Trixie asked. “Dan?”

“I spent some more time on it this afternoon,” Dan pulled out his small notepad. “I’m pretty sure there’s some sort of water, but I’m guessing a stream, maybe leading to an underground lake. The bird looking marks? Still not sure. Same with the circles. There may be a series of rooms we have to get through, which we can expect to be booby trapped, I’m sure. And those teeth really have me puzzled. I can’t imagine any sort of creature that would be living down there, other than an alligator or croc, and they’re not indigenous to this area, and not one has been seen.”

Trixie tapped her pen against her notepad, thinking.

“I think the ones to watch are Matten and Dentan. They could cause problems. The others aren’t much of a threat,” Trixie mused. “I saw Maria kind of hanging on Dentan earlier. I bet we could work that angle. We know Maria has a big mouth. Maybe one of you guys could come onto her, get a little information on Dentan.”

Both men shuddered.

Dan wasn’t glad Trixie wasn’t questioning the staff yet. He wanted to investigate Nola a bit further, his own way.

Brian’s thoughts turned to Mixen.

***

They agreed dinner was superb, and tonight’s dessert was Pirate’s Booty, a heavenly chocolate cake with tangy icing and small gold wrapped chocolate coins and white chocolate sauce. Trixie and Honey took advantage of Brian’s distraction and split his unfinished piece, to Dan’s amusement. Dan noticed his old friend looking around the room, and suspected Brian wasn’t looking for treasure. Not the gold kind, anyway.

Dan wasn’t a big sweet eater, but he couldn’t resist this and his thoughts were inevitably on Nola and her pretty hands doing things other than rolling pastry. He mentally chastised himself for letting the chef distract him.

In low voices, they made their plans for late that night, to explore the cliff side and see if they could locate a cave opening. Trixie and Dan would go in, leaving Brian and Honey as lookouts to signal them in case of problems or people lurking around.

Dan looked for an opportunity to slip into the kitchen but never found it. The dining room stayed full, and he knew Nola would be busy.

Brian tried to causally look around the dining room but he never saw Mixen.

***

Dan wiggled the doorknob gently. Locked. Glancing down the hallway he slipped out his lock pick set. Within seconds he felt the lock give and opened the door.

Sliding into the room, he closed the door behind him. Nola was still downstairs. He figured he had a few minutes. Guilt nibbled at his mind. He couldn’t deny he was attracted to Nola, yet here he was, breaking into her room because his gut instinct told him she was lying about more than one thing. And yet he was fairly sure it had nothing to do with treasure. She was simply hiding facts, maybe covering up information. There was no rap sheet or blight on her background check, but his instincts were rarely wrong. He wanted to know what she was hiding.

The room was plain, with heavy dark furniture. A fairly large window covered with heavy blue drapes was a contrast to the light blue walls and hardwood floor. A double bed was pushed up against the wall covered with a plain black comforter, light green sheets were just visible under the comforter, he noted.

What was surprising was the bareness. For someone who had such an impressive resume including the Cordon Bleu, there were no indicators of her accomplishments. No diploma or certification. No pictures of family. The desk was so neatly organized that Dan took extra care as he rifled through it.

On the bottom of a short stack of papers, he frowned as he realized he had found a copy of the map. What was the chef doing with a copy of the treasure map? Marge had said she showed her the map, not given her a copy. He glanced through the drawers of the desk quickly, spotting a laptop. Why have it in a drawer, and not out on the desk?

The drawers revealed mostly copies of invoices of food orders. Dan thought it odd she kept them in her room instead of a filing cabinet downstairs or somewhere in the kitchen. Did her room serve as her office too?

Replacing the map where he found it, he opened the closet. A dozen white chef coats hung neatly, pressed and gleaming. Next to them were a dozen pairs of black pants. Dan figured she kept her other clothes in the dresser. What woman in her late twenties didn’t have tons of shoes and at least some skimpy clothing? Dan smiled as he planned to look in the dresser.

Kneeling down, he began to rifle past the hanging slacks, and paused when he saw the trunk. Opening it, he found a long coil of heavy rope, and industrial bright flashlights. No, he thought, lanterns. Heavy boots, slip proof, and a full camping backpack. Also, a pair of heavy gloves.

“What the hell is a French trained chef doing in a tiny spot in the Catskills with cave exploring equipment?” he muttered. Maybe she just liked to hike? No, those weren’t hiking boots. No tent or tarps to indicate camping as a hobby. She had more interest in the treasure than she had let on. Way more, and Dan was disappointed with himself for dismissing her as a possible treasure hunter because he was attracted to her.

A key in the door made him jump and he swore softly. The key turned and he crawled into the bottom of the closet, balancing precariously on the trunk and hoping it was as sturdy as it looked. He shut the closet door softly as the room door opened.

Trying to squeeze his six foot two frame into the back of the closet was easier said than done. The trunk seemed solid so far, well built, possibly military quality. If she opened the door, he would appear to be a perv waiting for her.

But she didn’t, and he could hear her moving around. Finally he dared to crack the door and peek out.

She was brushing out the long red hair that fell down her back, and Dan absently wondered if it was a soft as it looked. Unbuttoning the chef jacket, she tossed it on the bed. Dan almost gasped out loud when he realized she was wearing a shoulder holster. Shrugging out of it, she dropped it on top of the chef jacket. The 9mm lay on the bed. He had seen her twice without her chef jacket, where did the holster come from?

A smile began to cross his lips as she kicked off the black clog styles shoes, then stripped off her t-shirt over her head. A pang of guilt hit for his voyeurism, but the male part of him wouldn’t let him look away from her lovely full figure. He tried not to think too much about the sort of fun he they could have together. She was tall, that was good. Dan found the height a real turn on, especially if she was confident in herself. Full figured, even better. He didn’t like the short, thin women he was always drawing to him. He wanted his women soft and lush. And Nola fit the bill perfectly.

His heart stopped however when she turned and looked over her shoulder, directly at the closet. She knew he was there, he thought in a panic. The allure of her black lace bra faded as his mind raced to come up with an excuse.

Eyes still on the closet, she unbuttoned her slacks slowly and let them drop, revealing black lace bikini panties. Dan felt his pulse pick up rapidly. She was moving deliberately slowly, bending over to pick up the slacks and drop them on the bend. Dan found himself unable to think of any sort of excuse as to why he was there, as she bent over and picked up her shoes, then took a few steps and set them elsewhere. Dan knew he was sweating and not from the adrenaline of getting caught in her closet. He had now had full views of her from different angles, and he knew his job had just gotten a whole hell of a lot more difficult.

Reaching down to the bed, Nola picked up the holster and removed the 9mm.

Dan swallowed. While he could reach his own gun, it wouldn’t do him much good if she threw the door open and had hers at the ready.

With another glance over her shoulder and the gun in her hand, Nola went into the small bathroom, shutting the door most of the way. Dan heard the water of the shower come on. Instead of bolting, he waited until it had been running several minutes.

Finally he stepped out of the closet and made it across the room. Opening the door silently, he stepped into the hallway, shutting it behind him.

Exhaling relief, he bolted down the hall.

***

While Dan was getting a bit of a show, Honey was searching Matten’s room. Trixie kept one eye on him as he pretended to be immersed in a book on pirates in the den, but he made no secret of taking notes. The honeymooners hadn’t been seen all day, and a couple of the families wandered in and out.

Trixie would have preferred to search the room but it was Honey’s turn. Her phone buzzed softly with a text from Honey, This man is a pig! Trixie almost snorted. Fifteen minutes later she got the text the coast was clear.

Standing and pretending to stretch, Trixie tossed down the book she had been reading and ambled out of the den towards the room she was sharing with Honey.

“Well?” she demanded eagerly when she got there.

Honey shuddered. “The man is a mess. There was dirt everywhere. Even on the desk, he must have set his feet up on it. And porn,” she shuddered. “Lots of it. Thank God I was wearing gloves but I feel the need to burn them.”

Trixie giggled.

“Lots of information on pirates, treasure hunting, equipment, signs to look for, hand written notes I couldn’t decipher, and heavy equipment of ropes, shovels, etc. Stuff Dan and Brian told him he couldn’t bring in, but it hasn’t been used. It looked like rappelling equipment too.”

“Rappelling? You think he’s been going down the cliff?” Trixie asked.

Honey nodded. “That’s probably why there’s so much dirt, and it had been used recently. Not a lot of clothes, he was expecting a short stay. Those suitcases he hauled in must have held all the books and things, and he brought in the equipment later, probably at night.”

“Well, Matten certainly takes the top spot for suspicion,” Trixie said out loud.

***

“Danny, I never took you for a peeping tom,” Trixie laughed. “You must be losing your touch if you’re sneaking around women’s rooms!”

Dan rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know she’d come back!”

“Did you learn anything?”

“Other than her underwear preference?” he smirked. She rolled her eyes. “She’s got a gun, and cave exploring equipment. She also has a copy of the map. She’s well established here, no one would suspect her if she was out looking around. She’s become ensconced. Is that a ruse?”

Trixie wrote it all down. “I don’t know, but I think it puts her up pretty close with Matten.”

“It’s a pretty elaborate ruse,” Honey commented. “Unless she’s known about the treasure for a while, maybe from her uncle. But why would it take her so long to move on it?”

“Maybe she didn’t get the map until recently,” Trixie suggested.

“Miss Trask only found that map a few weeks ago,” Brian reminded them. “Until then, the treasure was pure legend. So either, she suspected it was here and brought equipment with her, or she’s looking to do some exploring on her own time.”

“I’m more curious about the plainness of her room,” Dan said. “Especially when she drives what appears to a semi-flashy car, in a custom color. She’s been here six months, but her room looks like she just moved in with no extra baggage.”

“No shoes other than clogs,” Honey muttered in repulsion. “That alone is suspicious!”

“Why did she suddenly start wearing the gun, when I’ve seen her with out it? And why did she take it into the bathroom? What’s she afraid of? What or who would want to attack her?”

“Maybe she did know someone was in the closet,” Honey suggested. “And she could have been hiding the gun all the time. Under the jacket she was carrying, maybe.”

“But to give a slow strip tease that way?” Dan asked. “Egging on an attacker?”

“Well, I feel a lot safer when I have my gun nearby, maybe she figured she’d draw you out and plug you,” Trixie answered cheerfully. “Or, she knew it was you and that you’d enjoy it, you pervy boy.” Trixie was grinning as she said it, causing Dan to roll his eyes.

Brian was staring out the window.

“I don’t know. Maybe guns turn her on,” Dan said, glancing at his friend.

They agreed to meet back at the girl’s room at eleven, and head out to the cliff. Once the guys were back to their room, Dan shut the door and turned to Brian.

“Spill it,” he said.

“What?” Brian asked, distracted.

“You’ve been completely discombobulated since you met that Mixen chick.”

Brian turned red. “She’s interesting,” he admitted.

“Interesting? You’ve never reacted to a woman this way. You describe them as pleasant, or intelligent. Not interesting.”

Brian shrugged.

“Look,” Dan said, kicking off his sneakers, “you like her. Go after her. Ask her to have a drink with you.”

“No,” Brian said quickly. “I’m not looking for a hook up.”

Dan snorted as he lay on his bed, hands behind his head.

“If anyone needs a hookup, it’s you. You’re way too tense, Bri.”

“She’s a crazy treasure hunter,” Brian replied, sitting on his bed to untie his shoe laces.

“Hey, the sex could be great,” Dan pointed out, earning him a withering stare from Brian. “I’m just saying!”

“I’m not into one night stands,” Brian muttered.

“Maybe you should be,” Dan answered. “They can be fun. Two consenting adults, hot sex, working off some frustration. It’s a great stress reliever and trust me old buddy, you need to blow off some steam.”

Brian rolled his eyes.

“Seriously Bri, when the last time you went out on a date? And not with Honey, but a real date.”

Brian shrugged. “I’ve been a little busy with work.”

“That’s my point,” Dan sat up. “You work too much. Look, there’s an interesting, albeit slightly offbeat woman out there just waiting for your attention. After this trip, you never have to see her again unless you want to.”

With a heavy sigh, Brian laid back on his bed. “I’m going to take a nap before we go out.”

Dan just shook his head.

But Brian couldn’t sleep, and when Dan’s breathing told him his friend was asleep, Brian got up and slipped on his shoes and jacket. Closing the door silently behind him, he walked the hallway, hearing the voices of the patrons in the common room, and the television that was on. A couple of kids were still up; playing pirate games, but Brian made his way past them and outside.

The night was cool, and the crickets chirped. Brian found himself on the same path as earlier, heading back to the cliff. And as last night, he saw her sitting on the large rock. But this time she wasn’t writing, she was just looking around.

“Hello again,” he called out.

She turned, and after a few seconds pause, smiled.

“Hello,” she said cheerfully.

“Are you a creature of the night?” he asked, feeling lame. Why couldn’t he have a bit of Dan’s suaveness with the ladies? Maybe because he didn’t devote his free time to scoring with the ladies. Practice and all that, he figured.

“I think I’m more crepuscular, actually,” she commented.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Crepuscular. It means I’m mostly active in twilight. I like the twilight. It seems so eerily peaceful, as opposed to the dark of the night that criminals and spies prefer or the bright sunshine of the morning that those obnoxiously perky people enjoy.”

“Sure,” Brian answered. He wanted to see her with the glasses and hat off, get a good look at her face. Her clothes were a bit loose, hiding her frame and she slouched a lot. It occurred to him he hadn’t seen her all day.

“I would have thought you for early to bed,” she said thoughtfully, standing up and stepping closer. Brian realized she was taller than most women, around five ten, he guessed. Maybe taller if she stood up straight. Strands of blonde and pink hair were escaping her hat. He wondered if she ever actually combed it.

“Sometimes,” Brian answered, unnerved by her sudden closeness to him. The slightly magnified eyes were creeping him out, and at the same time, he had the urge to reach out and touch her. She had gorgeous lips, he thought, and he really wanted to see her without the glasses. Something told him he wouldn’t be disappointed.

Brian turned as she circled him, his eyes on her. If she pulled a weapon of some sort on him, he was in trouble. Hand to hand combat was Dan’s thing, not his.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up as she suddenly stepped closer and grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulling him into a long kiss, and startling him.

Brian almost lost his balance as heat rushed through him, and he found himself reaching for her, drawing her closer as she ran her hands through his dark hair, melting against him. She pressed up against him and his lips opened to hers as she kissed him deeply and Brian felt his body respond in a way he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.

She pulled away just as abruptly, murmured, “Oh dear,” and then hurried away, walking quickly, once again leaving a very stunned Brian behind.

Author’s Notes
- A huge thank you to Julie, my editor, who polished this baby up and gave me the title!
- Word Count, 4,655