Wilde One (26 page)

He grunted. “We have an old house, an ancient, twisted eucalyptus tree and footprints in the sand along the shore. What could those three pictures have in common that’ll lead us to the treasure?”

“I’m not sure, but I noticed a lot of eucalyptus trees when we drove by Golden Gate Park. They seem pretty common in the area. However, the tree in the picture is distinctive with that bend in the trunk.”

“So we have to search the whole frigging city until we find the right one?” His fingers tightened.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.” He bent to kiss the back of her neck then blew out a breath. “I’m frustrated.”

“Then let’s do something about it.” Ainslee pushed him out of the way and stood. Grabbing her computer off the bed, she lifted it from the case and set it on the small, round table in the corner. “Thank heavens this place has free Internet.” She pointed to a card propped up against a vase filled with zinnias. “Password provided by our energetic hostess. Perfect.”

He took the second chair and scooted it around beside her. “What are you looking for?”

“Anything I can find about the Talbots. I bet we can uncover Victor’s last known address in about two minutes.”

Griff laughed. “Go, Ains. I like your confidence.”

Distracted by his warm breath on her ear, it took her three minutes after several false starts. She did her best to ignore the jolts of sensation shooting to her nether regions and focused on the screen. “The Talbot family home is located on Nob Hill, choice neighborhood of the super wealthy. Let’s pull the address up on Google Earth to get a bird’s eye view.” A minute later she frowned. “This isn’t the old house in the picture. That’s what I was hoping for.”

“That mansion looks a whole lot newer. They’ve got a pretty extensive compound, complete with a wall encircling the property. We aren’t going to get inside unless someone lets us through the gate.”

She sighed. “Not much point, considering the place has nothing to do with our pictures. Do you see the eucalyptus tree anywhere?”

“Zoom in a little closer. There’s a big tree in the front corner…no, it’s a cedar. Well, hell. Now what?”

“We dig deeper. Let’s see if we can find any other property Victor might have owned.” She typed on the keyboard, pressed enter then waited. Squinting, she studied the screen.

“Apparently the man amassed his wealth through real estate. There are condominium complexes and office buildings both locally and in cities across the country, not to mention a beach house in Florida and a villa on the Mediterranean.”

Griff scowled and pushed back his chair. “This isn’t helping.”

“No, it’s not.” Reaching back, she pulled the taped-together photos from her purse and laid them on the table. “Does that run down old house look like something a mega-millionaire or billionaire or whatever Victor was, would own?”

“Not in the least. Hey, I just had a thought.” Excitement sparkled in his eyes. “The picture is aged, or at least it’s a copy of an aged picture if the yellow quality is any indication. We’ve been focusing on the old goat’s present instead of his past.”

“Of course.” She slapped her forehead. “This must have been taken years ago, back when Victor was a kid or a young man at the very least. Probably before he went off to war.”

“Can we find out where he lived during the twenties and thirties? Maybe his family sold the property or lost it during the Depression.”

“You’re so smart. I should have thought of that.” Ainslee turned back to the keyboard. “Let’s see if we can find an in-depth newspaper or magazine story about Victor that mentions his background. They might have run a few pieces on his life after he died.”

“You’re probably right. The man must have been an institution in the city if his holdings are any indication.”

The next twenty minutes were spent scanning through articles about Victor. Ainslee clicked on yet another one and crossed her fingers. “They all talk about how he amassed his fortune after he came back from the war. That and what a hero he was. There’s nothing about… Wait!” She pointed at the screen. “This one mentions his parents, who emigrated from England around the turn of the century.” She scanned the article. “His father was a factory worker, and his mother was a cook and housekeeper. The family travelled from New York to San Francisco by train. Victor was born here, the youngest of nine children.”

Griff leaned over her shoulder. “Why’d they move west?”

“It doesn’t say, just that his father had come into a modest inheritance after he rescued a member of a wealthy family, a young boy, from a burning building… Well, well, well.”

“What?” He pressed against her back, hands planted on either side of her as he leaned in.

Another zing of electricity shot through her. Shifting in the chair, Ainslee forced her attention back to the newspaper article. “Victor’s father bought a house in the city with the money and opened a small restaurant. Says their original home was in the Richmond District.”

“Hot damn! The place could be within walking distance of here. Un-freaking-believable. Does the article give an address?”

“No, nothing else useful. Just the same old stuff about Victor’s entrepreneurial skills and how he amassed a fortune through hard work.”

Griff straightened, taking his enticing warmth and scent with him. Ainslee let out a sigh of disappointment.

“So, what? We walk the streets, looking for the house in the photograph, assuming the picture is of the old family home? That could take all day.”

“I have a better idea.” She closed down the computer then stood. He didn’t back away, and she bumped against his chest.

“Or…” He jerked a thumb toward the bed before resting his hands on her shoulders. “We forget about Victor for an hour and test out the mattress for firmness?”

A grin escaped. “As tempting as that is, no. I say we find our hostess and show her the picture. I bet she’ll be able to tell us exactly where the house is located.”

“I may be smart, but you’re a flipping genius. Terrific idea.”

Snapping the leash onto Rocky’s collar, Ainslee coaxed him off the bed and headed for the door. “Let’s go find her.”

The innkeeper was polishing silver in the dining room. She glanced up with a smile, adding more creases to her wrinkled face. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“We hope so.” Letting Rocky greet a willing Aristotle, Ainslee held out the photograph. “Any chance you recognize this house, ma’am. I believe it’s somewhere in this area of the city.”

“First of all, call me Doris. Ma’am makes me feel old.” A broad grin curved her lips as she took the photo from Ainslee. “Old is a state of mind, so as far as I’m concerned, I’m not a day over thirty.” Her attention shifted to the picture. “As for this photo, of course I recognize the place.”

“That’s great.” Ainslee reached back to grip Griff’s hand. “Where is it?”

“Used to be three blocks west then up a couple from there. The house was condemned…oh…maybe fifteen years ago and torn down shortly afterward. They built one of those modern apartment buildings on the site. Total eyesore. I always liked that old house, but it’d been neglected for years and was falling off its foundation.”

Her shoulders slumped. “So, nothing’s left of the building?”

“Not a thing. They leveled the place.”

“Thanks for your help.” Ainslee turned toward the door and tugged on the leash. “Come on, Rocky. Leave the cat alone.”

“Aristotle’s the friendly sort, and they seem to be tickled with each other. Enjoy your afternoon.”

Griff nodded. “Thanks, Doris.” He pushed open the front door then followed Ainslee and Rocky down the steps. “Now what? Wait. Stupid question. Lunch, obviously, then we figure out what to do next.”

“Let’s walk toward the property where the house stood. We can stop for food when we see something that appeals to us. I don’t know what else to do at this point.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He patted her arm. “Don’t look so bummed out. I think we’re still on the right track.”

With an effort, she shook off the fit of depression that gripped her at the news the house no longer existed. “Male intuition?”

“Or simple optimism. It’s a beautiful day with no fog in one of my favorite cities.” He reached to take her hand. “And I’m hanging out with you. Can’t beat that.”

Warmth, which had nothing to do with the sun shining down on her shoulders, filled her. “When you put it that way…”

“Hey” —he slipped his arm around her as he pointed— “the sign says there’s a deli in that corner grocery. Want to grab sandwiches?”

“Sure.”

Walking west a short time later, they devoured ham on fresh rye bread bristling with pickles, tomatoes and lettuce. The monster sandwiches were wrapped in white butcher paper and came with bags of chips and freshly brewed sun tea.

“I feel like I’m leaving a trail of lettuce.” Ainslee glanced over her shoulder. “Probably because I am. Yum. This is so good.”

Griff sipped his tea. “Do you want to find a place to sit down? There must be a bench or something somewhere.”

“No, we should be almost there. According to Doris’s directions, we turn here, and the property’s in the next block. That’s probably it right there.” She indicated the huge structure a little ahead of them.

“Ugh.”

Eyesore was right. A nightmare in glass and chrome, the apartment building towered over the neighboring homes, most of which looked like contemporaries of the one in the picture. Ainslee stuffed the empty sandwich wrappers back into the paper bag as she contemplated the monstrosity.

Hands on his hips, Griff glanced up and down the block. “Maybe Doris was wrong about the one we want being torn down. All these homes look similar. Different colors maybe, but the house in the picture could have been painted a half a dozen times over the years.”

“No, this is the correct lot. Look.” She pointed to the top of a tree, just visible behind the building. “Isn’t that a eucalyptus?”

“Yep. Let’s go check it out.”

“How? There’s a gate across the side yard.”

He stepped around Rocky, who was sniffing something sticky on the sidewalk, and walked over to the wrought iron barrier. Sticking his hand through the bars, he flipped up the latch. The gate swung inward. “Finally, we get a break.”

“About time.”

Tugging on the leash, she followed him down a walkway past a trio of trash cans to the back of the building. A concrete birdbath shaped like a seashell stood in a patch of sparse grass. Pressed up against an old wooden fence at the back of the property, the twisted eucalyptus rose in majestic splendor. Rosebushes planted at regular intervals fanned out on either side of the tree. Rocky lifted his leg to pee on the nearest one.

“Definitely the tree in the picture.” Griff moved closer to run his hand down the smooth bark of the trunk. “Now what?”

“I’m not sure.” Ainslee pulled the beach photograph out of her purse. “We found the house and the tree, but how does this fit in?”

“The nearest beach is blocks from here.” Griff’s brows drew together. “With the sun setting in the background, you get a good indication of the direction.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “Maybe that’s the key. The footsteps in the sand head directly west toward the sunset. Maybe we’re supposed to stand at the base of the tree and take…one, two, three, four, five…steps west.”

“Like the little spots on the tile in the cave. Victor’s losing his creativity.” Griff squinted up into the cloudless sky. “Hard to tell directions when the sun is overhead, but these streets are laid out on a grid. I’m nearly positive the back fence runs east to west.” He took a step and stopped. “Hard to walk in a straight line with those rosebushes in the way.”

“Not steps this time. I bet we’re supposed to count bushes.” She grabbed his arm and squeezed. “Oh, my God, Griff, I think the treasure is buried under the fifth rosebush, the one with the dark red blooms.”

His eyes sparkled as he turned to face her. “We need a shovel.”

The back door of the apartment opened, and an elderly man with a St. Bernard puppy emerged. The ball of fur galloped over to Rocky, tail wagging. Both dogs sniffed with enthusiasm.

“I guess now isn’t an ideal time to dig.” Griff lowered his voice. “Let’s go. We’ll come back later, maybe after dark.”

With a smile for the bearded gentleman in the sweater vest, Ainslee dragged Rocky away from his new pal and hurried back to the gate. She stepped out onto the sidewalk then pulled the gate shut.

“I don’t know how we’re going to dig up that rosebush without attracting attention. What the hell was Victor thinking?” Griff kicked a loose chunk of cement as they headed up the block.

A minute later, Ainslee stopped and grabbed onto his shirt. “Look.” Her breath came out in a hiss as the pulse pounded in her throat. “No, don’t look. Keep your face turned. I don’t think he saw us.”

“Who?” He glanced over his shoulder.

“Ogden Morris.” She darted into an alley between two houses, pulling Griff and the dog with her, then pressed a hand to her chest. “He was on the other side of the street, punching something into his phone.”

“Well, shit. I had high hopes we’d ditched the rest of the group. This puts a new twist on the situation.”

“If he’s the one who was trying to kill us…”

Griff pulled her against his chest and rubbed her back. “Hey, your heart’s racing. Calm down. Morris isn’t going to hurt us.”

“What’re we going to do?”

“First things first. We’re going to go buy a shovel.”

Griff kicked back on the bed while Ainslee debated the merits of two different shirts, one black and one dark green. She finally pulled the black one over her head, hiding the curves he’d grown so fond of, then flipped her hair into place. Coupled with dark jeans and black running shoes, she’d blend into the night. Except for her hair.

“Do you have a hat?”

She glanced up. “I think so. It was cold last night at the campsite…” She dug through the overnight bag and held up a navy blue knit hat. “Will this work?”

He nodded. “It will if you tuck your hair up into it before we get to the apartment building. I’m hoping we can be virtually invisible while we dig. Thank God the fog rolled in to block out the moonlight. With any luck, we’ll unearth the treasure and bolt out of there before anyone notices us and calls the cops.”