“A lot of these old plantations had their own jail cells under the house,” Gage said. “The plantations were located far away from any town, and each estate was its own small village. According to King, in a room under the ruins is where we’ll find the gold.”

Edge studied the drawing. “I didn’t think you were planning to use heavy equipment to dig the place up.”

“I’m not,” Gage said. “King’s already found the gold—or at least that’s the premise we’re working on. So there’s an entrance somewhere we can get to without having to dig very deep.”

Abby shined her own smaller flashlight around. “The property is so overgrown, it’s going to be hard to find our way into the lower level, even with King’s instructions.”

“King said he covered the entrance back up when he left so it looked exactly as it had before.”

“In daylight, it will be easier,” Mateo said. “You have come this far. You will find it.”

Gage glanced over at his friend. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

Abby followed the track of Gage’s flashlight as the beam traveled over the low rock walls that outlined the long rectangular shape of the house.

Somewhere—among the dense shrubs, plants, bushes, leafy trees, and undergrowth within the foundation—was a passage that would lead to untold wealth. Abby felt a little kick of excitement just thinking about it.

“Let’s go get some sleep,” Gage said. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” He took her hand to help her navigate the rough ground back to the passenger side of the Hummer.

Glancing over her shoulder, Abby took a last look at the ruins of the old hacienda. WE’ll find it, King, she promised. And prayed she could keep her word.

* * *

After spending the night in Mérida, Edge’s security team showed up in Alux’ob at eight o’clock the next morning. Finished with a breakfast of huevos motuleños that Carlos had fetched for them from the cantina, Gage walked Abby out to meet them.

Edge made the introductions to his crew. “Guys, this is my brother, Gage. The lady is Abigail Holland. You’ve already met Mateo.” Edge turned to the additional two team members, a man and a woman, both veterans who had served in Afghanistan. “Gage and Abby, meet Trace Elliott and Skye Delaney. Gage, you met Trace at Kade’s wedding. He worked security on the ranch for a while when Kade was having trouble.”

“I remember,” Gage said, reaching out to shake Elliott’s hand. He remembered the man, dark-haired and good-looking, with intense blue eyes.

The woman, Skye Delaney, was average height, her skin suntanned to a smooth bronze. She had softly curling, sun-streaked brown hair, about shoulder-length, pulled back in a low ponytail. Even without makeup, she was strikingly attractive.