IT WAS LESS THAN A TEN-MINUTE DRIVE TO THE WELLS FARGO ON Broadway. Gage pulled up in front of the impressive glass-domed structure, parallel parked, and fed the meter; then he set a hand at Abby’s waist and they went inside.

Though he knew the morning had upset her, she’d handled the arrest of her no-good cousin with her usual courage and strength. She was moving forward. Gage was proud of her.

He thought about what had happened in his office earlier that morning. He still couldn’t believe it. After the incredible night they’d shared, how could she possibly believe he’d grown tired of her? Abby thought he’d had enough of her luscious body and passionate responses?

What a joke. He was more than a little afraid he would never grow tired of Abby.

Since he had no idea what to do with the thought, Gage shoved it back where it belonged and escorted her across the granite floor to the counter, the echo of their footsteps rattling around them. A few minutes later, a woman in her forties with buzz-cut blond hair walked up.

“May I help you?”

“I’d like to get into my safe deposit box,” Abby said, holding up the key.

“Certainly. Right this way.”

Gage followed Abby through a swinging gate into a small private room. For the first time that morning, she seemed nervous, clenching her hand around the key hard enough for it to make an imprint in her palm.

True, King had left another chunk of gold in the desert, one he claimed was part of the treasure. But if the Peralta mine existed, it had vanished over a hundred and seventy years ago. The gold—if any real quantity had survived through the ages—could be anywhere.

The woman returned with the box, and she and Abby used their keys together to unlock it. The woman left, closing the door behind her to give them privacy.

Abby held his gaze for several seconds, then looked back down at the box. Her fingers stroked the metal surface, then she took a deep breath and lifted the lid. Two gold bars glittered at the bottom of the metal box.

“I knew it,” Abby said softly. “King found it. I remember the last time I heard from him. We spoke on the phone. Just a brief conversation, then he was gone. He must have made the arrangements with Silas to take the box into the Superstitions, spoken to his attorney, then headed back to Mexico to bring out the rest of the treasure.”

And never returned, Gage thought but made no comment. His gaze remained on the ingots. There was something hypnotic about the gleam of pure gold, something even a hardened treasure hunter couldn’t resist.