quick kiss to her lips. “Let’s get to the roof.”
She touched her earpiece. “Boone, we think it might be on the roof. Meet us up there.”
“Acknowledged.”
Liam and Aspen headed up the stairs. When he pushed open the door at the top, a stiff wind ruffled his hair.
“Be careful where you step,” he warned. “The roof looks rotten in places, as well.”
“Let’s check all the chimneys,” she said.
Boone appeared out of the darkness. “This roof is shit. Be careful.”
They spread out, checking each of the chimneys. Liam saw Aspen blow out a breath and rest her hands on her hips.
Liam didn’t spot anything out of the ordinary. He glanced over at Boone. “Anything?”
The man shook his head.
“Dammit.” Aspen kicked a brick. “Jake’s life is on the line. It has to be here.”
“Hey.” Liam hugged her. “We aren’t done yet.”
“I can’t let his kid grow up without a father. My friend without her husband.”
“Aspen, we aren’t giving up.”
She nodded and swiped her arm across her face. “Okay. Okay. There, I’ve had my breakdown. Let’s keep looking.”
They continued their search.
“The diary mentioned a sword.” She glanced around. “What could that mean?”
Boone frowned. “No idea.”
“Wait.” Liam said. “There was a picture of the warehouse at Simon’s.”
She nodded.
“It had a billboard on top.” Liam crossed the roof and came across old brackets attached to bricks. The billboard itself was long gone, but its base remained.
Excitement crossed Aspen’s face. “Yes. In the picture, there was definitely a billboard, and I think it had a picture of a sword on it.”
Liam pulled out his phone. “I’ll call him.”
“It’s late—”
“I’m pretty sure he’ll take my call.”
“Hello?” Simon’s voice was sleepy, cautious.
“Simon, it’s Liam Kensington. I’m sorry to be calling so late.”
“Mr. Kensington, how are you?”
“I’m not bad. I have a question for you. You had a picture of your grandfather’s warehouse in the Bronx. There was a billboard on top advertising something.”
“Yes. Cammilus Knives. They were one of the oldest knife manufacturers, and popular at the time. They used crossed swords as their logo.”
Knives. Sword.
“Thank you, Simon.”
“Does that help?”
“I hope so,” Liam said.
“All I ask is that you show me the treasure when you find it.”
“Count on it.”
Liam slipped his phone away. “The billboard advertised Cammilus Knives. They used swords as a logo.”
“Bingo.” Aspen grinned. “It’s here, somewhere.” They circled around the old brackets where the billboard would’ve been.
Liam pondered. Where would I hide a lockbox of treasure?
Somewhere sturdy. Somewhere safe.
He studied the bricks under the billboard brackets. They were all made of the same red brick.
Wait.
On one pillar, some of the bricks were a paler color. Discolored. Or perhaps not as old.
He crouched.
“Liam?” She crouched beside him.
“Look at these bricks.”
“They’re different,” she breathed.
“Move back,” Boone said.
The man lifted a boot, then he kicked at the bricks. He kicked again.
The bricks crumbled inward.
Liam flicked on his flashlight. A second later, he saw the gleam of metal inside. “Hold this.”
Aspen held the flashlight for him, and Liam reached in…and pulled out a lockbox.
“Holy cow,” she breathed.
Boone shook his head. “Here.” He pulled a pair of bolt cutters from his backpack, and cut the old padlock off.
Liam opened the lid.
The box was full of wads of cash, gleaming coins, and glittering diamonds.
Aspen
Wow.
I stared at the diamonds as they glinted in the beam of the flashlight.
They were brilliant, lit by an inner fire.
I met Liam’s gaze.
“Call Doyle,” he said. “Have him meet us here with Jake and the photos.”
I nodded.
“You gonna wear a wire?” Boone asked.
I nodded again. “Doyle isn’t getting anything out of this, except for a jail cell.”
I thumbed the screen of my phone.
Doyle’s voice came over the line. “Time’s almost up, Chandler.” The man’s voice was as hard as stone. “Knox is a dead man, and those photos of that sick fuck Kensington Senior will go out online first thing in the morning.”
“I have the lockbox.”
Silence.
“I found Schultz’s treasure,” I continued.
All I heard was heavy breathing. “You’re lying.”
“I’ll text you a picture. Meet me at the warehouse, and bring the photos and Jake. And none of your goons.”
A long pause. “Have you been playing me, Penn?”
“Yes. My name isn’t Penn. I was hired by Erica Knox to get her husband back. So, let’s all get what we want, Doyle. You give me Jake, you give Kensington the photos, and you get what you really wanted all along. The lockbox.”
“I don’t take kindly to being lied to.” His voice was icy cold.
“That’s rich, considering you’re a criminal. Just get here. No goons. You play me, Doyle, and your precious