“You’re right. Over the last hundred and seventy years, roughly two hundred and fifty people have died trying to find it. Some were killed by exposure to the harsh desert conditions; others suffered tragic accidents; some were murdered, including several who had their heads severed from their bodies.”

Every serious treasure hunter had heard the stories, many of which were extremely gruesome.

“The Apaches believe the mountains are cursed,” Gage said. “Who knows, maybe they are. The truth is there’s no limit to what people are willing to do to find a fortune in gold—if it actually exists. I assumed the treasure King was hunting was something very different.”

She leaned toward the map, and Gage caught the faint fragrance of jasmine. Another rush of blood headed south. He took a sip of scotch, hoping to relax his body’s reaction to a woman he found extremely attractive.

Abby picked up the map. “You said you’d seen a map like this before.”

“I know they sell copies of it in the Lost Dutchman Museum at the base of the mountains. I’ve even seen them online.”

“Take another look.” She pointed to a spot where the map had been altered. “At one point the trail has been redrawn, veering off from the east toward the south. That’s my grandfather’s handwriting. He was there.” She pointed to an X drawn in black ink on the map. Next to it were the initials KF.

“Let me take a closer look,” Gage said. “Do you mind?”

“Be my guest.” She handed him the thin, stiff piece of rawhide, and he held it up to the light. The black marks had neatly been added. He wished he had one of the reproduction maps to compare it to.

“If King was there and that’s where the gold is, why didn’t he find it?”

“I don’t know. If it was easy, he would have discovered it years ago. I think that’s where he may have been when he died, but no one seems to know. His attorney received a phone call from King a month before he passed away. Apparently, King told him that unless he received another call, at the end of thirty days, he should assume King was dead and implement the will he’d made the last time he was in Denver.”

“King must have known he only had a short time to live.”

Abby glanced away, but Gage caught a glimpse of pain. “I think that’s what happened.”

“What else do you know?”

“Over the years, he told me dozens of stories. Sometimes we talked about clues he’d discovered during a trip he’d made in search of the gold.”