going off without telling them. It was her sister who finally insisted. The sisters are fairly close. Apparently they talked at least once or twice a week, but the sister hadn’t heard from her in over three weeks at the time they came to us,” he said.
“What about her boyfriend’s family?” said Diane.
“He has a worse record than she does of falling out of sight, under the radar. They’ve had him show up after a year of hearing nothing from him. He’s a free spirit too—taking jobs on merchant ships, research ships, that kind of thing.”
“Perhaps that’s where they are—at sea?” said Diane. “What brought you to the mountains?”
“The boyfriend is an avid treasure hunter. The sister considers him a step up from the dope heads her sister has tried to rescue, thinking they were tortured souls—she’s rather naive,” said Liam. “His family says he’s been interested in treasure stories all his life. But he caught the bug big-time while he was working on a treasure-hunting ship that actually found a sunken wreck with a modest amount of gold. Since then he has followed one lost-treasure story after another. I traced them here—well, to Rendell County—where he was looking for yet another lost treasure.”
Chapter 34
“Treasure? Like buried treasure? Here?” said Diane. “Don’t tell me. It wasn’t the lost wagonloads of Confederate gold?”
“No, not that. And not buried, exactly. But it was gold. He was in search of a lost gold mine,” Liam said.
“You are kidding me,” said Diane.
“Not at all.”
“How did he arrive at that?” she asked.
“Well, in between the boyfriend’s road trips and sea adventures, he worked odd jobs for money to bankroll his treasure hunts. One of his jobs was as a janitor in a nursing home between Rosewood and Atlanta. Not the best of homes, but not too bad either, for what it is. One of the inmates—”
“I think they are called residents,” said Diane.
“Oh, right. There’s an elderly woman, Cora Nell Dickson, with early Alzheimer’s whose room he cleaned,” said Liam. “She grew up in Rendell County. Her family had lived in those parts for generations. According to one of the residents I spoke with, Mrs. Dickson told the story over and over about how her father was cheated out of his share of a lost gold mine. This was close to a hundred years ago she was talking about. Most everybody thought she was just batty. But my boy, being of the particular bent of mind that he was, believed he had found someone with just the kind of once-in-a-lifetime secret information that could lead him to that lost treasure he fantasized about.”
Liam tapped his index finger against his temple. “It became his obsession. He collected all the old stories, tales, and rumors he could get his hands on about lost gold mines in North Georgia. Then he read the account in some history book about Spanish conquistadores looking for Indian gold mines hidden in the mountains. He was convinced that Mrs. Dickson’s father stumbled across one of those lost Indian gold mines.”
“This is nonsense,” said Diane. “There is no Indian gold.”
“This isn’t my delusion. It’s his. But the fact that gold was actually found in North Georgia and that there was a big gold rush there in the early eighteen hundreds added to the credibility of the story,” Liam said.
Diane could see Andie’s attraction to Liam. Not only did he have a handsome face, but dark blue eyes that were almost sad and certainly vulnerable. Liam looked like a guy that many women might have found they had chemistry with.
“How do the Barres fit into all this?” said Diane.
“Mrs. Dickson’s father, Emmet Lacky, knew LeFette Barre, Roy Barre’s grandfather. If they were still alive, Emmet Lacky and LeFette Barre would both be about a hundred and ten now. When they were young they did a lot of rambling around the mountains together—hunting, fishing, the kind of things boys did back then. That would be in the early nineteen hundreds. It was during those ramblings they were supposed to have discovered the lost gold mine. They are reported to have said it had a vein of gold six inches thick.”
Diane raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of gold,” she said.
“I thought so. But I’m not up on that kind of thing. At one point she described slashes of gold and quartz together, and I think that’s about right geologically,” he said.
“In any event, according to Mrs. Dickson, her father, who was only a boy at