Neighborly Complications (Stories of Serendipity #1) (21 page)

“I’ve no idea.” Max grunted, out of breath. He worked for a while longer in silence, except for occasional grunts. Eventually, he turned to Brent, “Are you ready for a turn down here? I need a drink.”

Claire watched as Brent descended into the well, while Max walked into the house. This was certainly taking longer than she hoped it would. Who knew concrete would be so hard to bust up? She had to console herself with the fact that it was indeed protected well. If it had been easier to find, some teenager would have probably found it by now.

Brent’s movements weren’t as frenzied as Max’s had been. Of course he didn’t think he had a personal stake in finding the treasure that Max did. Claire decided right then to share what she found with Brent and Summer. They had helped her immensely, and were becoming really good friends to her. She wanted to repay the generosity they had shown her with their kind, and in Brent’s case, not so kind words.

“Thanks, Brent.” She said softly.

He dropped the sledgehammer down on the chisel. “For what?”

“For helping me with this…and Max.”

“No problem.” He dropped the sledge hammer again.

“If you hadn’t said what you did to me this morning, I wouldn’t have gone over to make up with Max. I appreciate it.”

“I would do anything for Max.” He looked up at her. “Even if it means I’ve got to come over and poke some sense into the love of his life.” He grinned at her, beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. He wiped at it with his forearm and went back to work.

Max came up behind her. “What did you say about poking sense into Claire?” He didn’t sound mad, only curious.

She turned to him, and put her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on his chest, inhaling his scent. “Brent came over this morning to talk to me about you.”

Max’s head fell back in laughter, and the sound made warmth flood Claire’s body. God he was sexy when he laughed. “You didn’t do the pokey thing, did you? Jesus, Brent, one of these days you’re going to get so mad you put somebody’s eyes out with that thing.”

“Yeah well, I was mad. She was going to leave you, and I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing you cry like a baby again. I’ve had enough of that shit.” Brent didn’t look up from his work, but the emotion in his voice was plain.

Max put his arms around Claire and squeezed. “Well, thanks man. You’ve never used the angry poke gesture on my behalf before. I’m honored.”

“Yeah I did. I used it on Brenda after Katherine’s funeral when she was talking to her girlfriends about how you were on the market and she was gonna get herself some of that.”

Claire raised her head to Max. “Brenda from your party?” He nodded at her, a grin still plastered on his face. “She seems so nice.”

“She is nice, but a little needy. I think she’s finally found something in Derrick though.” He turned to Brent. “He’s taking her to the fireman’s picnic next weekend. I’m glad she finally agreed to go out with him. He’s been carrying that girl’s torch since High school.”

“Yeah, so did everybody else on the football team, only most of them actually burned the torch too.”

Claire was shocked. “She didn’t seem that bad.”

“She likes men. She’s one of those women whose identity has always been connected to who she’s dating. I just hope she doesn’t break Derrick’s heart. He’s a good guy.” Brent grunted out while he pounded away at the concrete, before raising the bucket for Claire to dump.

She took it around the back of the house and started a pile in the corner under the azalea bushes. When she came back, Brent was sitting on the edge of the well, and Max was back inside.

“So the gold is Confederate?” She asked him.

He shrugged. “No one really knows exactly where it came from. Nana said it was

Confederate. That your Great, great, great, great, great grandfather was a lieutenant in the army during the war, and pilfered it. He brought it home, but was too scared to spend it. So just passed it down the family.”

Claire’s cell phone rang, and her heart leapt to her throat as she saw Summer’s number come up.

“Everything okay?” She asked instead of saying hello.

“Yeah. The police are here and want to talk to you.” Relief swept over Claire and she chided herself for being so jumpy.

“Okay. I’ll be around in a minute.” She hung up and told the guys before going around to the front, where Summer stood with the detective that had brought the photo line-up by.

“Ms. Dunlap.” He greeted her before she invited him inside. “I just came by to let you know we have Mr. Brothers and Mr. Mavens in custody. If you could come by tomorrow to pick them out of a line-up, we would appreciate it.” He looked at Summer, who was standing off to the side, looking agitated. When Claire looked at her, she cut her eyes to the side and raised her eyebrows in question. Claire shook her head.

The detective stiffened. “What’s going on, ladies?” His hand twitched near his belt, and Claire was quick to offer an explanation.

“We came up with an idea of where the gold might be, and her brother and my neighbor are digging up the old well.”

“Did you get a permit from the city?” His eyes narrowed at her.

“You can’t be serious?” Claire did not believe this.

“No. I’m not serious.” He relaxed, and chuckled at her, which made Claire breathe a sigh of relief. “I mean, I think you do have to have a permit, but that’s not my department. You need to find that gold and put it someplace safe to get yourself out of danger, right?”

Weak with relief, she said, “Right. Thank you.”

After he’d gone, Summer hugged Claire. “I thought we were goners.”

Claire laughed. “No permit? That would have killed me for sure. I’m so glad he didn’t make a huge deal out of it.”

“Do you think I still need to stand guard? Now that they won’t be coming back?”

“Nah. Let’s go check the progress.”

They walked arm in arm around the house to where Max and Brent were still chipping away at the concrete. Claire offered to go get more drinks.

“Y’all go get the cooler off my porch. Some beer sounds real good right now.” Max grunted from his spot in the well. At least he looked deeper, Claire was encouraged. They were making progress.

Claire and Summer brought back the ice chest still full of drinks and sloshing ice water between them, and passed around drinks. Max took his and leaned against the edge of the well to drink a healthy chug from his bottle.

“Thanks.” He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, and Claire admired the way his shirt clung to his chest. She licked her lips unconsciously, and Max’s eyes fastened on them. She realized what he was looking at, and felt heat rising. As if it weren’t hot enough right now.

Brent put his hand out to Max, who took it and allowed his friend to help him out of the well before jumping in. Max sat next to Claire, leaning on an elbow and took another drink.

“We’re getting closer. I can feel it.”

“Yeah. Me too.” She looked at Summer, who was on her hands and knees at the edge of the well, watching Brent. Occasionally she offered suggestions, to which her brother grunted acknowledgement. Claire smiled at them.

She wondered if this was how they all used to be, when Katherine was alive, back in High school. Katherine’s memory would always be a part of Max, Claire didn’t ever want to change that, but would she ever be able to accept her own place in his heart? Or would her psyche continue to propagate the illusion that she couldn’t possibly measure up to Katherine’s memory? Claire knew in her gut that she wasn’t replacing anything, but her stupid self-esteem was constantly trying to chip away at her conscious thoughts with feelings of inadequacy. Would she ever tell her self- esteem issues to just take a hike?

Max’s finger trailed down her arm sending goosebumps rising on the flesh. She wondered when his touch would stop affecting her like this. And his breath. And his smell. And his voice.

“Are you tired?” She touched his cheek, and he leaned his face into the palm of her hand. His caramel eyes looked into her soul as he exhaled a profound breath.

“Not really. You rejuvenate me. Just looking at you gives me the energy to go on.”

“Don’t be corny. I was asking a legitimate question. We can stop if you guys are getting too tired.”

Brent looked up over the edge of the well. “We’ve only been doing this a couple of hours, and I think we’re making good progress. It can’t be too deep. The Dunlaps wanted
somebody
to eventually find it.” His face disappeared again as he went back to work.

“We’re doing fine, Claire.”

“But we might could rent a jack hammer tomorrow and it would be easier on you guys.” She offered.

“Have you ever used a jack hammer?” Max asked her. She shook her head and he chortled. “They’re not lightweight and easy to use. And I’m not even sure it would fit in the well. And the noise is outrageous. It would get every neighbor in a ten mile radius out here to see what we’re doing.”

“And the permit office,” Summer piped up.

“Yeah, okay.”

Claire watched, feeling useless while Brent and Max busted their backs for another hour or so until Max called out of the hole, “I think I’ve got something!”

Claire dropped to her stomach to hang her head over the hole and look down. Max had uncovered what looked like a metal box wrapped in layers of plastic.

“I think that with this plastic, if I can get the top uncovered, we should be able to just pull it out. Can you get something to cut the plastic with?”

Claire ran into the house, retrieved a pocketknife and brought it back to Max, who had uncovered the entire top of the box. It looked like a metal file box of some sort. Taking the knife from Claire, he slit open the plastic, and using the chisel around the edges of the box, he pried enough out of the concrete that he could lift it with his fingers.

“It’s heavy. That’s promising.”

“Here. Hand it to me.” Claire held out her outstretched hands.

“Take it inside. We don’t need to open it in front of the whole neighborhood.”

“Okay.” She watched as he hauled himself out of the well, and she led everybody into her house, where she sat on the floor and pried open the lock with the pocket knife.

Harsh intakes of breath filled the room when they saw the contents of the box.

M
ax watched Claire as she lifted, one at a time, a total of nine bars of gold from the box. She fingered them individually, turning them over in her hands, silently contemplating them. He knew he should leave her alone with her find, but he couldn’t leave her with all that gold in the house alone. He was too protective of her. He’d managed to get Summer and Brent out of the house by telling them he would fill them in on the details later, and thanking them profusely for their help. Claire had been too gobsmacked to say anything.

So he just watched her.

She had forgotten he was here, he could tell. The way she was just fondling the bars, muttering under her breath, told him she was in her own world, oblivious to his presence. Finally, he broke the silence.

“What are you going to do, now?”

She looked up at him, obviously surprised he was still there. “Um…I’m not sure. How much do you think this is worth?”

He reached over to pick up a bar, pausing mid-reach. “May I?”

She nodded, so he picked one up and hefted it. “It’s about two pounds, I would say, which would make it around $50,000 on the current market.” He placed the bar back in front of her, carefully, and looked her square in the eyes. “You have $450,000 sitting in front of you.”

He watched as she blinked once, twice. Her mouth formed a perfect little ‘o’ and he felt the sudden urge to kiss the surprise off her face, but he suppressed it.

She whispered, “I don’t know.”

“How about this. How about I stay here tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll go get you a safety deposit box to put it in. Okay?”

She nodded.

“Claire…” He grasped her hand. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.” She hadn’t spoken more than fifteen words since she’d opened the box forty-five minutes ago. He was afraid she was going into shock.

“I can pay you now.” She looked away from the gold, and up at him. “To fix up this house.”

He laughed. “Claire, I would have fixed up the house without the gold. Swear.” He held up three fingers in the Boy Scout salute of honor. “You could have paid me other ways.”

“I’m not a prostitute!” Her cheeks flushed red, and that sexy flash glinted in her eyes.

“I’m not talking about sex, sugar.” He leaned back, glad that she was returning from the daze she had been in. “You could do my laundry for a couple of years…” He ducked a swat from her, laughing.

“I would turn one load of tee shirts pink before you reneged on that offer.”

“Maybe…”

She grew pensive again, and withdrew into herself. Max watched her, wondering what was going on inside her mind. He didn’t ask, though. He just let her be.

Eventually, she started packing the bars back inside the box and stood.

“I want to share this with Summer and Brent. For their help.”

Max was surprised at the generous gesture. Not that Claire wasn’t generous, it was just so out of the blue. She lowered her eyes under his shocked expression.

“If it weren’t for them, I would be gone, and I wouldn’t have found the gold. Or…” Her eyes rose to his once more, and he lost the air in his lungs at the vibrance that shone from them. “You. I wouldn’t have you, Max. They’re the ones who convinced me to come see you yesterday.”

Max couldn’t help himself. He reached over and pulled her into his arms. Smothering himself in her neck, he inhaled deeply. “Then I owe them something too.” He tasted the skin that joined her neck and shoulders. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d left.”

“You ready to go upstairs?” She asked him with a mischievous gleam in her pretty, hazel eyes.

“Hell, yeah.” Max stood, eagerly. He had to admit to himself, he would follow this woman anywhere.

When they had gotten to the bedroom, Max pulled her down to sit next to him on the bed. He turned her to face him.

“Before we do anything, we need to talk.”