We're back in the Corvette. This time, I'm driving. I made Kiran pull over and get out after he almost swerved into a fire hydrant trying to put a tape in the cassette player.
The Corvette is a smooth ride, and for the first time in my life, I understand why guys are so obsessed with their cars. If I had fifty thousand dollars to throw away, you can bet I'd be cruising around town in a sports car like this, sticking it to the speed limit. I press my foot against the gas pedal and Kiran lets out a delighted whoop as we hit on ninety on the highway. We speed into Dusty Valley with the wind at our backs, the morning electric and alive with possibilities.
After we left the Joshua tree behind in the dust, Kiran declared, seemingly out of nowhere, "I know how to find the gold. We have to go back to the beginning."
I didn't ask any questions. I just believed him. I'd never heard Kiran sound so sure about anything before.
So here we are, back at the beginning, idling in front of Sorrento's Pizza. Sunlight bounces off the restaurant windows and the neon sign advertising the best calzones in Dusty Valley. The streetlights start to flicker off, one by one, down a deserted Main Street, like the town itself is trying to show us the way to the gold. I ease the Corvette into an empty parking spot and we hop out onto the sidewalk.
Kiran digs a set of keys out of his pockets and unlocks the front door to Sorrento's. "Don't tell Talia," he says with a grin. I draw an X over my heart.
It feels strange to be in the restaurant before opening. Like we're on a movie set and the director is about to yell, "Cut!" Everything is too clean -- the floor has been swept free of crumpled napkins and pizza crusts, all the Formica counter-tops freshly scrubbed. It smells like oil from the deep fryer and lemony Fabuloso spray.
Could this really be where it all began -- a treasure hunt spanning generations? It looks more like where a twelve year-old would go to celebrate their birthday.
Kiran dips into the kitchen, returning with a bag of Ruffles. "I know what you're thinking. Why the hell would the gold be here?" He offers me a chip, which I accept. (My stomach isn't pleased about skipping breakfast to go on a treasure hunt.) "I thought the same thing. I I ruled this place out when Talia started working here, figuring that she would've noticed anything usual, so there was no point in pissing her off by searching again."
"What made you reconsider?"
He crunches down thoughtfully on a chip. "Something that Rachel said. It's starting, it's ending. I know she wasn't talking about the gold, but it made me think of Sorrento's. This is where my sister first looked, but what if she wasn't looking in the right place? What if the gold has been hiding in plain sight all along?"
I cast my gaze around the empty restaurant. "I don't see anything."
"That's because we're looking for the gold in 1989. This building was originally constructed in 1842. We're not going to find anything up here in the modern-day -- we need to start with the foundations."
"I thought Andy and Talia already searched the cellar."
"They did, but not with someone who was born in Dusty Valley." Kiran gives me a significant look, the moment slightly ruined by him wiping cheese dust on his jeans. "Like I said. You might be the key to everything, Becca Fisher."
"Just as long as it doesn't require a blood sacrifice."
"I doubt that," he says with a grin. "But we are going to need this."
He pulls a silver necklace out from under his t-shirt. Dangling from the chain is an ancient-looking skeleton key.
The last time I saw that key, it was hanging from Rachel's neck. And the last time I saw Rachel, she was dissolving into a spell of her own creation. Everything -- including the knife Leigh used to complete the sacrifice -- vanished with her. "How the hell did you get that?" I ask, leaning forward to get a better look.
"Rachel knocked it off when she was trying to swat that spider," Kiran explains, his voice slightly muffled by a mouthful of chips. "I guess she didn't realize it was missing."
I think about what Talia said in the Prickly Cactus parking lot. Even with the key, you'll never find what you're looking for. It feels wrong solving this mystery without her. But Kiran and I have made it so far, I can't imagine turning back now. Sixty-forty. That's the split he promised me. With that money, I can change my life. I can pay my grandmother's medical bills. Julia and I can go to college without debt.
If we find the gold, I'll be able to do anything. That includes finding a way to make it up to Talia and Andy.
"You could've told me about the key," I point out "We're supposed to be partners."
"I'm telling you now, aren't I? Besides, there was a lot going on before. Your friends are involved in some weird shit." Kiran slides the skeleton key off the chain and hands it to me. "I know you don't trust me. Honestly, I don't blame you. But I hope you can believe me when I say that we're a team."
I curl my fingers around the key, still warm to the touch. "I believe you."
Kiran beams at me. "Great! Then let's get this show on the road." He crumples up his empty Ruffles bag and free-throws it into the trash can. Then he digs around in his pockets until he retrieves a small penlight. "A good treasure-hunter never goes anywhere without a flashlight. And where we're going, we're gonna need one."
I help him shove the stack of boxes away from the cellar entrance, and he uses the employee keys he stole from Talia to unlock the door. A wooden staircase winds downward into the gloom.
"Ready?" Kiran asks, clicking on his penlight.
"Ready," I say. Together, we follow the tiny beam of light into the unknown.
***
There's nothing magical about Sorrento's cellar. It looks like, well, what you would expect from the basement of a pizza parlor. There are sacks of flour piled up on the dirt floor and industrial vats of tomato sauce stacked against the walls. We manage to find a light switch, and a single dusty Edison bulb sputters to life, illuminating more... flour. And tomato sauce. Our most interesting find is a cardboard box filled with cheap red wine.
"At least we can get drunk when this turns out to be another failure," I mutter, brushing cobwebs off my arms.
Kiran isn't so easily discouraged. "Help me move this," he says, gesturing to a rickety shelf full of -- you guessed it -- more bags of flour.
"If this doesn't pan out," I say, breaking a sweat as we drag the shelf away from the wall, "you're gonna owe me a lot of mint-chocolate chip ice-cream."
Kiran wipes a hand across his forehead, leaving behind streaks of flour. "Objectively the worst flavor, but okay. Do you see anything usual behind the shelf?"
"I see a lot of flour."
"What about the wall?"
"It's just a normal wall," I grumble, but I give it a closer look anyway. The foundation of the cellar definitely seems older than the rest of the building, the gray stones weathered and marked with age. I sweep away some more cobwebs. "What the hell am I supposed to be looking for again?"
Kiran adjusts the penlight beam for me. "Initials, a keyhole, a section of the wall that's a different color than the rest..."
"I don't see anything. Like I said, it's just a normal wall."
We put our backs into moving the other shelf. I'm really starting to work up a sweat now. The stuffy cellar air feels like it's a hundred degrees, and every wasted minute reminds me that the restaurant opens at 9AM, about two hours from now, and Talia's boss probably won't be pleased to find a pair of teenagers digging around in his basement.
"What about here?" Kiran asks, shining the penlight against the wall. "C'mon, there's got to be something. I can feel it."
I run my hands along the wall, searching for a hidden keyhole, a seam, anything. "Still nothing."
"No. We're so close. I know the gold is here somewhere. I know it!" There's a frenetic energy to Kiran's voice, vibrating like a live current. "We can't give up now."
"Kiran, if it's not here, then it's not here..."
"It's here," he says firmly. "I know it's here. I know."
I blow a sweaty strand of hair out of my eyes and keep searching. The stone walls are rough, gouged with marks from the shelves and boxes. I close my eyes and let my fingertips feel for anything out of place. I'm looking for something, and I think you're the key. The legend states that only someone born in Dusty Valley can uncover the gold.
A memory of my grandmother in her hospital bed. I think you're stronger than you realize...
"It's here," I whisper to myself, as if I can summon the words into existence. I have to believe it. Because if anyone can find the gold, it's me. Not Kiran. Not Rachel. Not even Talia and Andy. I was born in this town. And Mimi was right -- I am stronger than I realize. I used to be afraid of what I was capable of. I'm not anymore.
It's here. It has to be here.
I'm about to move on to a different part of the wall when my fingers hit a curved line -- but not a dent or a scratch left behind from the shelf. A letter. The letter J. It's followed by a second line, the letter S. JS. Initials.
"Wait," I say. "I think I found something."
Kiran shines his penlight at the letters. I know what he's thinking -- it could be a coincidence, it could be graffiti left behind by a bored employee. I sweep my hands across the wall, brushing away the dust and revealing a square that's lighter than the rest. I press my palm against it.
It starts to turn.
The stone swivels on an axis, like a revolving door. I can't see what's beyond it. After a complete 180, the other side of the square clicks into place and the wall is complete once more. But this time, in the center there's a keyhole.
"We found it," Kiran whispers, as if he's afraid that speaking up will make our discovery disappear. I get it. Something about this wall, this keyhole, feels infinitesimally delicate, a fragile thread connecting past to present. We're balanced on a tightrope between two worlds, and one wrong step will put an end to it all.
It's here.
I fit the skeleton key into the keyhole and give it a twist.
The entire wall rumbles, dust puffing into the air. Kiran and I both take a nervous step back. This cellar is over a hundred-years-old -- and I don't doubt that it's violating just as many safety codes. Luckily, the shaking subsides a few seconds later, and when the wall goes still, my heartbeat quickens at the sight of cracks in the stone forming the outline of a secret door.
Not even in my wildest dream could I imagine my summer ending like this. I hold my palms up to the wall, then turn to glance at Kiran. "Ready?"
His eyes shine with excitement as he says, "So freakin' ready."
I dig my shoulder into the wall to give it a push. It swings inward, invisible hinges groaning like the door to a haunted house. Kiran flashes his penlight into a dark chamber. I can't make out anything except the dirt floor.
"Ladies first," he says, gesturing to the doorway.
I raise my eyebrows at him. "Afraid of the dark?"
"You found the door," he says. "You deserve to be the first one to see the gold."
He sounds so sure of himself. Like the mysterious J.S. themselves promised him that there'll be a stack of gold bars waiting for us inside. Personally, I don't want to get my hopes up -- no expectations, no disappointment -- but I still feel my pulse quicken with anticipation as I follow the beam of the penlight into the darkness.
The air is at least ten degrees cooler inside the chamber. It also feels slightly damp, like I'm standing at the bottom of a well. The ceiling is so low that I have to crouch down not to bruise my skull. "I can't see anything," I say. "Give me a light."
Kiran steps into the chamber, his penlight darting across the bare stone walls. It's so dark that the beam only seems to make the shadows thicken. With a shudder, I realize that if the door closed behind us now, we'd be trapped down here until the next treasure hunter stumbled upon our bodies. I can almost feel the hundreds of feet of earth packed above our heads.
Not reassuring.
I delve deeper into the chamber. The ceiling slopes downward until I'm forced to continue at a crawl. I keep going until my hands collide with the far wall, but there's no sign of the treasure. Is it possible that the gold is on the other side of the chamber? How big is this place? My lungs tighten at the thought of being stuck in this claustrophobic room for hours, searching aimlessly in the dark.
"Anything?" Kiran asks.
"Not yet," I reply. I keep crawling until I hit the right side of the chamber, the stones smooth and cold to the touch. I can't discern any more marks or initials, though I do feel something with way too many legs skitter across the back of my hand. I stifle a yelp, pivot, and scoot forward until I reach the left wall.
Nothing.
The chamber is empty.
"What's going on in there?" Kiran asks, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Have you found anything? Do you think there's another room?"
"No." I bump my head against the ceiling and wince. The tight squeeze is starting to feel suffocating. "I'll keep looking, but I think I've searched the entire chamber."
Kiran shines the penlight in my direction, and I catch a spark out of the corner of my eye. There's something in here! Something that can reflect light! I lunge forward like a child trying to catch fireflies, and my arms knock against something hard and metallic.
My whole body trembles as I lift it off the ground.
"What is it?" Kiran calls out. "Do you need the penlight?"
"No," I whisper, crouched in the darkness, entranced by an object I can't see.
I don't need the penlight to prove that the weight in my hand is a bar of gold.
With my free hand, I scrabble through the dirt, searching for the rest of the fortune. Kiran made it sound like there'd be dozens of gold bars. Hundreds. Millions of dollars worth of lost treasure. But all I find is a thin, flat square -- an envelope?
It doesn't make any sense. Who would've left a letter down here? Did J.S. leave a note telling us where they hid the rest of the gold?
I stick the gold bar and the envelope into the waistband of my jean shorts and start crawling towards the door. I can't get out of the chamber fast enough. The darkness seems to close in around me as I scramble through the doorway and back into the cellar.
Kiran catches me before I can hit the floor. "Whoa, are you okay?"
As soon as I regain my balance, I hold up my discovery to let it catch the light for the first time in a hundred years. "I'm more than okay," I tell him. "I'm golden."
***
Kiran double-checks the chamber to make sure I didn't miss anything. He climbs out a few minutes later, muddy and discouraged. "You were right," he says. "It's gone."
After that, there's nothing left to do except shut the door and withdraw the skeleton key. The wall slides neatly into place, and the chamber vanishes from sight as if it was never there at all. The whole situation feels surreal. If I wasn't still holding the gold bar, I could be convinced that it happened only in imagination.
"I don't understand," Kiran says, sitting down on a bucket of tomato sauce. "Who the hell is JS? And why did they go to all that trouble just to hide one gold bar?"
I pass him the envelope. My hands are still covered in mud, and I don't want to risk making the letter unreadable. "I don't know, but this might help explain."
"You found this with the gold?" Kiran asks, perplexed. "It's not even that old."
He's right -- the envelope doesn't have the fading or discoloration you'd expect from a nineteenth century artifact. It looks a bit worse for wear, but not like it was left in the chamber a hundred years ago. Just another piece of this puzzle that doesn't make any sense.
"Wait," he says, squinting at the writing. "It's addressed to someone. Does the name Rachel Clark ring a bell?"
"No. But it sounds a lot like Rachel Clairvaux."
"The scary real estate lady who went poof?"
"That's the one."
"Well, I think this was written by her husband," Kiran says. He starts reading. "My beloved. I've left a little something for you to remember me by. You know I always keep my promises. And... that's it."
"That's it?" I repeat, incredulous. "No mention of the gold?"
"Nope. But there's a signature. Jay Cassidy." He frowns. "Huh. That name sounds kind of familiar, doesn't it?"
"Jason Cassidy is the senator of California."
"What a weird coincidence. Do you think they're related?"
"No. I think they're the same person." I turn the gold bar over in my hands, studying the shiny surface as if a clue will appear and tell us what Jay Cassidy did with the rest of the treasure. "Congressional campaigns cost a lot of money. A fortune, actually. Maybe he found the gold and used it to help him get elected."
"Sure, but what the hell is the state senator doing in Dusty Valley? And why would he be married to Rachel?"
I shake my head. "I have no idea."
We sit there in silence for a moment, each of us processing the significance of our discovery. It's not the treasure trove we were looking for, but at least we're not walking out of this cellar empty-handed. One gold bar is better than none, right?
"I just wanted to be the first," Kiran says quietly. He twists the skeleton key between his fingers, his gaze traveling somewhere far away. "I grew up hearing stories about the lost gold of Dusty Valley. Dreamed that I'd be the first to find it. That was all I ever wanted -- the recognition, you know? Then my grandfather died and left the key to Talia in his will. It was like he wanted me to know that I didn't have a chance."
"Hey, at least we found something," I say. "A solid gold bar has to be worth a decent amount of cash, right?"
Kiran stares down at the key in his hands. Then he slides it back onto the chain and lets the necklace disappear underneath his t-shirt. "It was never about the money."
"Yeah, let me guess, it was about the friendships we made along the way." I roll my eyes at him and say, "I don't care if this was a symbolic coming-of-age journey for you. I still expect my forty-percent cut."
Kiran lets out a dry laugh. Then he stands up and smacks some of the dried mud off his jeans, a hint of his trademark grin returning to his face. "Don't worry. I know a place where we can pawn the gold. But first, we have to get out of this basement."
***
We sneak out of Sorrento's an hour before it opens, just early enough to avoid drawing unwanted attention on Main Street. The smell of roasted coffee beans wafting over from a nearby cafe makes me realize just how exhausted I am. In the past twenty-four hours, I've driven to Arizona, gotten into college, had a psychic awakening, and witnessed one of my best friends trying to sell their soul. Oh, and now I'm carrying a gold bar in my pocket. Just your average summer vacation!
I trudge after Kiran as he strides down the sidewalk to check on his precious Corvette. He climbs into the driver's seat and retrieves something from the glove-box -- a magnifying glass? (What a nerd. No wonder he goes to Yale.)
"Can I see that?" he asks, gesturing to the gold. "I want to make sure it's not a fake before we take it to the pawn shop. I prefer my kneecaps intact."
I shrug and hand it over. After a few minutes of inspecting the bar with his magnifying glass, scratching it with his fingernail, and at one point actually biting down on it, Kiran seems satisfied with his findings. "It's real," he announces.
"Great," I say, heading over to the passenger side. "Let's sell this thing before Jay Cassidy changes his mind and decides he wants the rest of his fortune back."
I pull on the door handle. It's locked.
Typical. I yank on the handle again, just to make sure it wasn't stuck, and then let out an exasperated sigh. "Dude. I'm tired and I want to get this over with so I can sit in the AC for the rest of the day. Let me in."
Kiran places the magnifying glass and the gold bar back into the glove-box. My first hint that something isn't right is the way he refuses to make eye contact with me. As if he's about to be the bearer of bad news. "I'm leaving, Fisher."
"I know that. We're going to the pawn shop, right?"
"No," he says softly. "I wish I didn't have to break it to you this way, Fisher. But this is how the game is played." When he finally turns to face me, his expression is full of regret. "We made a good team. We really did."
When the truth finally dawns on me, it's embarrassingly late. Kiran is leaving me and taking the gold with him. He was never going to pay me my split. He's going to drive away with the gold and leave me here empty-handed -- because that was always his plan, from the day we made our deal at the pancake diner.
My mind spins as I try to think of potential solutions. The Corvette is a convertible -- I could probably leap over the door and take the gold from Kiran, but I don't want to fight him for it. This is about principle, not money. I don't want to force the gold from him kicking and screaming. I want him to apologize and be the decent human being I thought he was.
"We made a deal," I say. I wish I didn't sound so hurt. "You gave me your word."
"No. I didn't promise you anything. And don't give me that look -- don't act like you weren't just as eager to stab Andy and Talia in the back the second I said I knew how to find the gold. We're two sides of the same coin, Fisher."
"We are nothing alike!" I exclaim, earning a strange look from a dog walker passing by us on the sidewalk. In a lower, furious voice, I continue, "I wasn't trying to betray Andy or Talia. I was always going to give them a share of my split."
Kiran drums his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel, his gold ring gleaming in the morning light. "You're honorable. I respect that. But treasure hunting isn't an honorable business -- and the sooner you figure that out, the better."
"I don't care about the business. I thought we were friends! I introduced you to my mother, for Christ's sake!" I imagine taking a crowbar to his windshield, trying to think of the words that'll deal just as much damage. "No wonder your own sister despises you. You're just a selfish asshole obsessed with winning."
Kiran winces. "That was deserved. But, ouch."
"You still owe me a third question. Were you ever going to give me my forty percent? Or were you always planning to screw me over?"
"I'm sorry, Becca, really. But this is how I roll. It's just --"
"If you say the word business one more time, I'm breaking a window."
He holds up his hands. "You're upset. I understand. But please leave the Corvette out of this. It didn't do anything wrong."
His stupid Corvette. I can't believe I let myself get tricked by a boy with nice hair and a fancy car. Some psychic I am!
"Fine," I snap. I can't believe I'm giving up on thousands of dollars of solid gold -- but if chasing after it turns me into someone like Kiran, then it's not worth it. "Keep the gold. I don't want anything to do with you. I never want to see you again."
"Becca..." Kiran begins, looking truly remorseful.
"Get out of here," I tell him. When the car doesn't budge, I shout, "Go!"
He slams his foot down on the gas pedal and the Corvette screeches away, swerving down Main Street in a cloud of sand and exhaust. Then he's gone. Really, truly gone.
I sit down on the curb and let my head fall into my hands. I've never felt so weary in my life. As angry as I am with Kiran, I didn't want things to end like that between us, either.
God, I would do anything for a coffee right now.
The dog walker passes by again, this time with a more sympathetic expression. "Are you okay, dear?" she asks. "Break-ups can be terrible." Her dog -- a wiry, scrappy thing that looks dismayed to be living in the desert -- lets out a huff and sits down in the grass, as if it's used to her conversing with strangers. Small towns are like that.
"I'm fine," I mutter.
"Trust me, I know the feeling. I just divorced my husband of thirty years."
"My condolences?"
The dog walker flashes me a smile that I think is supposed to be encouraging. "You're better off without him, anyway." Then she tugs on the leash, and her dog gives another exasperated huff before following her in the direction of the coffee shop.
I debate following her and commiserating over a cup of espresso, but before I can stand up, a yellow blur catches my eye. Cussing, I leap away from the curb just in time for Kiran to almost run me over as he attempts the worst parallel parking job I've ever seen.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I demand. "You could've killed me!"
"I couldn't do it," Kiran says. He looks totally bewildered, as if even he can't believe what he's saying. "You were right, Becca. I can't."
"You can't run me over? Because you almost did five seconds ago."
He lets out a string of mumbled curse words and rests his head against the steering wheel. "No. You were right about me being selfish, an asshole, and obsessed with winning. I'm all those things and more. And I understand if you never want to see me again -- but I don't want you to think that I'm a bad person, too."
"Well, it's a little too late for that --"
He holds out his hand. Offering me something. "I hope it's not too late."
It takes me a moment to realize that the glimmering object is the gold bar he just drove off with. Now it's my turn to be bewildered. "You're giving it back? Why?"
"I don't know why! It was never supposed to end like this. You were supposed to be a mark -- not my friend." Kiran lets his forehead thud once, twice against the wheel. "I hate having a conscience."
I reach out and take the gold bar before he can change his mind. Again. "And you said this wasn't an honorable business."
"It's not. I'm just bad at it."
"Are you still upset about not being the first one to find the gold? It's not like we walked away empty-handed. I'm sure your family will understand."
"My family is a lot more complicated than that." Kiran glances up at me, fidgeting agitatedly with his ring. "If you see Talia, will you tell her that I'm sorry about New Orleans? Please? She'll know what I mean."
"Why don't you tell her yourself?"
"Because she'd probably punch me, and I happen to value my face."
"Fine." I don't feel like doing him any favors, but I guess he did redeem himself a bit by returning the gold.
Kiran's shoulders relax. "Thanks. I owe you one. Seriously."
"You don't owe me anything. We're even now." I wave the gold bar at him. "Now, get out of here. I meant what I said about never wanting to see you again."
"Are you sure about that? We make a pretty good team..."
"Get out of here, Kiran, or I really will break a window."
He grins at me as if nothing has changed. "Call me if you ever get bored at college, Becca. The East Coast isn't that far away."
The Corvette pulls away from the curb as swiftly as it arrived, merging choppily into the traffic on Main Street and causing more than a few angry drivers to honk their horns. I watch it leave from the sidewalk, a gold bar in my hand and the beginnings of a smile on my face, and when Kiran is finally out of sight, I lift my hand and wave goodbye.
There will be other treasures to discover.