Search Me(12)

As Drew flushed ten shades of red, I fought the urge to smack Maddox. “Uh, yeah, I’m coming,” Drew replied.

“Talk to you later,” I said.

He nodded before scurrying away. I caught Maddox’s eye, and he gave me a wicked grin. I responded by shooting him a death glare before stalking back inside. I ran into Maudie after I slammed the back door. “Lane, are you all right?”

“Fine.”

Maudie gave me a suspicious look before saying, “I was coming to see if you were ready to eat lunch? I made some of that chicken salad you like.”

“That sounds great.”

She smiled. “Go on and get the stuff out of the fridge, and I’ll grab us something to drink.”

“Okay,” I replied, as I started across the store to her office. I scooped up the bread and chicken salad container in my arms and thought of Maddox’s comment to Drew. If he kept it up, we’d never be able to have a decent conversation the entire summer. He was such an infuriating egomaniac.

Huffing, I plopped down in Maudie’s chair. The exertion sent the wheels into overdrive, catapulting me backward. The loaf of bread and container went flying out of my arms. They fell to the floor just as the chair smacked against the wall. Well, at least what I thought was the wall.

I started sliding back to the desk when I heard something crash onto the ground. “Shit!”

The last time I’d seen the painting was this morning when it was on Maudie’s sofa, so it was only natural to assume it was either there or had made its way onto the wall.

Nope, I was wrong.

A quick glance at the wall showed the nails primed and ready to hold up the painting. I could only assume that she hadn’t been able to lift it herself and had brought it over to the desk to call for someone to come and help her when she’d gotten interrupted with something or another.

When I finally dared to pick up the painting, my stomach lurched. The canvas had separated from the frame. My shaky fingers ran over the edges. Fortunately, I didn’t feel any rips or tears in the painting itself. But the frame was totally ruined. “Oh hell no!”

The door creaked open, and I whirled around. Maudie bustled through the door with our drinks. She stopped dead in her tracks at what must’ve been the horror on my face.

“Lane, what’s wrong?”

“I…uh…um…”

“You’re pale as a sheet.” She set the apple cider glasses down on the desk and then started feeling my forehead. “No fever.” She eyed me from head to toe before lowering her voice and asking, “Is it woman troubles?”

Her concern made me feel even worse. “No, Maudie, it’s nothing like that. It’s just…I’ve done something terrible.” At her widening eyes, I quickly rushed on, “Trust me that I didn’t mean to do it, but it happened all the same.”

“Well, what is it?”

Grimacing, I murmured, “I accidentally broke your new painting.”

Maudie gasped as her hand flew to her throat. She stood motionless for a moment before she stooped over and snatched up the frame. As she did an inventory of the damage, the breath I assumed she’d been holding whooshed out. “Lane, it’s okay. We can fix this. I’ll just get one of my woodworking buddies to get the canvas back into the frame.”

“Are you sure?” I felt horrible because it seemed I was getting off way too easy.

Maudie nodded as she fingered along the painting edge. Suddenly a frown dotted her brow. “Now that’s funny.”

“What?”

“It feels like there’s something stuck behind the canvas and the frame. Like a piece of paper or something.” Maudie’s tongue poked out as she tried pinching the paper’s edge. When it didn’t budge, she examined her swollen, arthritic fingers before glancing over at mine. “You better give it a try.”

Maudie held the painting steady for me. Using my index finger and thumb like a pair of tweezers, I grasped at a thin piece of paper. Slowly, I wiggled it back and forth to get a better hold. But just when I was making headway, it got stuck.

I froze and then glanced up at Maudie. She gave me an encouraging smile. “If you have to break more of the frame, go right on ahead. I gotta know what’s behind there!”

“Okay, then.”

I applied more pressure to the wood. With a loud pop, the frame and canvas completely separated on the bottom. My fingers once again delved inside, and I slid out the paper. It was yellowed with age and smelled of musty earth. Rectangular in shape, it had been folded over twice.

“Guess we better see what’s inside?” Maudie suggested.

Gently, I unfolded it. I stared down at strange lettering and symbols. Flashbacks of watching The Goonies and Pirates of the Caribbean with Maddox and his sister, Neely, flooded my mind. “Yeah right,” I murmured in disbelief.

“What do you mean?” Maudie asked.

“It looks like some sort of treasure map.”

Chapter Five

Maudie’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “I can’t believe it.”

My fingers ran over the parchment. “It’s definitely old, and the paper feels like…”

Maudie took the map from me and felt along the paper. “Animal skin.”

“Weird, huh?” I glanced at the map’s writing. “There’s not an ‘x marks the spot’ kinda thing like you see in the movies, but it certainly looks like these symbols and letters are leading to something.” I shook my head. “Of course, I can’t imagine there being an actual treasure, least of all why someone would have gone to the trouble to put it behind the painting.”