The Harvey Girl - Part 9

Quick Recap: Willa, Fin & Dori follow the treasure map. It takes them on a hike into the Kansas City countryside, looking for the highest spot. If they can find one of the overlays, it could get them closer to the treasure and closer to finding Willa’s father.

Short on time? Scan the story and just read the Bold parts to get the gist of the story. Then come back later and read the whole thing!

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LINKS: Start Here, Last Part (#8), Harvey Girl Page

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“Oh, my pumpkins!”

I gulped for air, hugging the cliffside and trying to calm a racing heart. My bold statement about ‘no mountain being too high’ mocked me. Regret filled my very soul, fighting valiantly against a numbing fear.

My father’s treasure map had led us to the limestone bluffs overlooking the Missouri River that ran through Kansas City. Pitted and weathered, the landscape was dense with vegetation. It jutted precariously in spots, especially those leading to the highest point. During our climb, we’d spotted a log cabin but had not encountered another soul. I worried a bit over trespassing, but surely we’d talk our way out of that particular danger. Taking a nasty fall was far more likely.

I’d insisted on this journey, putting my new friends’ lives in danger, not to mention my own. Although my companions did not seem as concerned. Fin, up ahead on the winding path, kept a steady pace forward. He glanced back regularly, possibly to see if we were still following or had regained our sanity, and backtracked to a safe spot.

Chancing a look over my shoulder, I checked on Dori, bringing up the rear of our group. She smiled back, nary a care in the world. “We’re almost there!” she shouted encouragement.

Perched as we were between gnarly tree trunks and a slope leading to a sheer drop, the wind whistled through the leaves and tugged at our clothes. I put a hand to my hair, feeling the loose bun. Only a big horn sheep could manage the pitch, making me think animals had worn the trail. It was not meant for human feet. However, it matched a twisting red line on my father’s map. Dori noticed it immediately, indicating we had found the right hiking spot.

Hike. I grumbled the word, knowing I only had myself to blame… well, Father should shoulder a bit of the burden. All of this was to find him. Not physically, at this point, but if we located one of the map’s overlays, we’d be closer to finding the treasure—and thus Father.

The questions I had about his treasure hunt were mounting. After all I’d learned, I found it confusing that he’d left his search to come home to New York City. Why had he left the search, and what had drawn him back so suddenly? At first, I did not believe he’d left home by choice, but my doubts on that front had doubled.

I’d had no time to sort it all out, but the questions lingered. I couldn’t avoid them forever. Especially the ones concerning Father’s actions. Plus, I fretted over how long I could keep it all from Mother. She’d be mortified, but possibly more over my actions than the man she’d married. Did she know the extent of his duplicity? Should I learn anything if I were to confide in her? A letter would not do. It required a face-to-face conversation, which would not happen anytime soon.

Worrying would have to wait. I needed all my attention to navigate the narrow path. While I wanted to keep my eyes on the horizon or on the tree line, that would be folly. I had to look down. Had to spot each step since only inches separated my right foot from slipping downward. The limestone had given way in several spots, and trees had uprooted and pitched in awkward angles. Looking down took my breath away, but I had to look. 

“This is the highest point!” Fin shouted. He’d reached a natural lookout. The trees were thicker, affording us some safety. 

I reached him first, and Dori quickly closed the distance. Her speed made my stomach lurch. “Do take care,” I warned her.

Dori smiled back. “There it is!” she pointed at a solid rock formation between a clump of trees. The elements had done their magic, carving a slot over time in the exposed rock. “Is it too high to reach? The overlay would be wrapped in animal skin and oiled to protect it. Shoved into the slot, I should guess.”

She looked between Fin and me as if waiting for one of us to climb up onto the rock for a proper inspection.

“I can help you up,” Fin offered. He laced his fingers together and held them low. They presented a step to get me closer to the hidden spot.

I quickly glanced at the slope to our right and decided we were on sturdy ground. I stepped onto Fin’s hand, reaching to steady myself against the rocky outcropping. He pushed me high enough to see into the crevice. “It’s empty,” I moaned. 

Carefully bringing me back to his level, Fin’s hands went to my waist. I ended up facing him, grasping his broad shoulders. The closeness was like nothing I’d ever experienced, leaving me quite breathless.

“We are too late,” I whispered. “The overlay is gone.”

Fin tilted his head to the side. I could feel his disappointment, more for me than himself. He’d taken up my adventure, and I owed him for all his help. I wanted to acknowledge as much, but the words failed me. They also seemed to escape him as his eyes held mine in a silent communication that made my toes tingle.

“Do you think your father already found this one?” Dori asked, ever practical and clueless to the moment unfolding between me and the perplexing Pinkerton Man.

“I should have considered that possibility,” I said, realizing that the treasure map would only be left on Father’s wall if he no longer needed it. “Do you suppose they’ve located all the overlays?”

“Very likely,” Fin said. “I suppose your father and his partners got here first.”

His hands fell away from my waist. His eyes went up to the tiny alcove, contemplating perhaps that we were not the only ones following the clues of the treasure map.

I blinked, shocked that our luck had run out, but I saw something. “What’s that?” I nodded my chin up at the space. “Are those symbols?”

We all came together to stare at the spot. Indeed, three symbols were etched in the stone at the back of the tiny alcove. Darkened with age, they were barely visible. I squinted. The hieroglyphs were unfamiliar. Dori took out a little notebook and sketched the figures. She was full of valuable skills.

“More clues,” Fin said as if it were some kind of curse.

“Father and his partners may have all the overlays.” I sighed, closing my eyes against a horrifying thought. “Had Mr. Reggie Brown been killed for the overlays? Could he have possessed them and gone to Father’s house for the map?”

Dori put away her sketchbook. “If so, the killer will be after the map next.”

Since the treasure map was snuggly hidden under my mattress, I didn’t worry about anyone finding it. “No one knows about me.”

“Yet,” Fin warned. “We’ll have to speak with the local authorities now, I’m afraid. They might find a treasure hunt pure folly, but they will have seen many a crime erupt over such shenanigans.”

The outing had taken three days to plan. I couldn’t believe it had come to nothing. Less than nothing, as I now had to speak with the local constable or sheriff or whatever form of law they had in Kansas City. I was ashamed that I did not know.

“What of the other overlays?” Dori asked. “We can’t assume they were found.”

“I believe we can, for now.” Fin crossed his arms over his chest.

Leaning against a tree, I marveled at the view of Kansas City. The town spread out before us, stretching farther than I had imagined. We’d driven to the bluff by buggy, Fin insisting on renting one. His help had been invaluable. I was about to say as much when the ground shifted under our feet. I looked down, finding my boots sinking with the limestone. Fin and Dori were further back from the edge, but the tree—and my feet—were too close to the edge. Birds flew away, alarmed, and a hissing, twisting, crunching of earth rumbled as the ground disappeared under my feet, and I fell, along with a big chunk of the hillside.

I looked up just in time to see Fin’s shocked face, and then my stomach lurched as my world shifted downward.

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