lot' is an empty term," Jen lectured smugly. "It's a measurement of exactly nothing. It's unspecific. It's not quantifiable. It's --"
"Did he sleep with all his female students?" Maybe that was specific enough for her.
"Not at the same time!" Shelly piped up. "He was hot, he wasn't kinky."
"I have a question of my own," Jen fired back at me. "Who the hell are you?"
I gave her a palms up. "Just someone who's out looking for buried treasure, like you. I saw that map and I couldn't resist. How many times in your life do you run into an honest-to-goodness treasure map?"
"Not often," Shelly said affably. "We don't even know what we're looking for, but I guess we'll know it when we see it."
"That's what I figure, too," I agreed. "Where'd you get your map?"
"From -- Ow!" Shelly dropped her spoon and cradled her hand against her chest. "Watch what you're doing, will you?" She glowered at Jen. "That hurt! Look, you broke the skin."
Jen expelled an exasperated sigh. "So hit the infirmary when you get back and ask for some Neosporin."
"She can even show you where it is," I informed Shelly, then redirected my attention to Jen. "Talk around the watercooler is that you went ballistic on Bailey when she was leaving the infirmary last night."
Her eyes lengthened to unfriendly slits. "Who told you that?"
I shrugged. "It's a confined space. Word gets around."
"Listen, Sherlock, whatever I said to Bailey is my business, so why don't you go dig a hole someplace and do us all a favor by jumping into it."
To borrow a phrase from Nana, "I don't think we're going to be here that long." I smiled and gave her an impish wink, but as I turned away, I was struck with an impulsive thought that caused me to turn back. "Was Professor Smoker sleeping with Bailey, too?"
Jen studied me evenly. "Bailey never made the cut. Dori had this...rule. The women he slept with?" Her lips curved into an icy smile. "They had to be viviparous."
"Warm-blooded," Tilly explained a few minutes later, her voice uncharacteristically dull. "Or more technically, bringing forth living young instead of eggs. Nearly all mammals are viviparous."
So Jen was implying that Bailey wasn't warm-blooded? Euw. That wasn't very nice.
We were sitting on a craggy rock near the flowage from the falls, Tilly in a near depression as she observed the chaotic methodology of the treasure hunters. "I hope they realize they can't leave those holes exposed like that. They have to fill them in. This is a state park. All park entrants are required to leave things exactly the way they found them."
"Are you going to do any digging yourself? That's why you're here. That's why Nana's packing stolen flatware. Come on, Tilly. It's your treasure."
"There'll be nothing left to dig when these scavengers finish their assault. Look at them. How could any treasure survive this kind of destruction?"
I could think of only one way to console her. "Have you eaten lunch yet?" Carbohydrates worked wonders for depression.
She waved off my offer. "I've lost my appetite." Her eyes flitted toward the flattened white box I dug out of my shoulder bag. "They must have provided us with more than one lunch option. My box doesn't look like that."
I raised the crushed container to eye level. "That's because Jonathan didn't step on yours."
Halfway through my mashed peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I glanced at the three Norwegians to find Ansgar and Gjurd high-fiving Nils, then hunkering back down to observe something in their hole. Uh-oh. Looked as if they might actually have found something.
Their wide backs formed a protective shield as Nils fussed with his backpack. He removed a towel and handed it to Ansgar, who glanced cautiously over his shoulder, obviously on the lookout for prying eyes.
"I say!" I heard Basil call out. "I've found it! I've really found it this time."
Percy smacked him on the head as groans and hisses filled the air. I watched people fling clumps of earth toward them, followed by moss, leaves, and what looked like a rusty engine part. "We don't believe you!" a woman yelled.
"You ever heard of the boy who cried wolf?" the guy in the muscle shirt yelled.
Basil and Percy tented their arms over their heads and knelt protectively over their pothole while the Norwegians shrugged into their backpacks, tamped all the soil back into their hole, and headed out. Considering that their ancient ancestors hadn't gotten beyond the pillage and burn stage, these guys were