Hoping Gage wouldn’t notice she was trembling, Abby helped Kyle secure the three men, binding their wrists behind their backs with a piece of rope and tying their ankles. She helped Kyle bandage Peters’s wound, but it continued to seep a thin line of blood.

While they worked, Gage walked over to his sat phone to call 911. Abby figured dispatch would be informing the local sheriff’s office as well as the Tonto National Forest Ranger District Office. The use of motorized vehicles in a designated wilderness was forbidden, but the violent assault that had resulted in a man being shot changed the equation.

“Help’s on the way,” Gage said. “Shouldn’t take them long to get here.” Heading straight for the younger man, he searched the guy’s pockets and pulled out his wallet, read his driver’s license. “Sean Younger. Address in Denver.” Gage nudged the guy’s leg with his boot. “You working for Jude Farrell?”

Abby’s chest tightened, though she was fairly sure it was true. When Sean made no reply, Gage reached down and cuffed the back of his dark blond head.

“I asked you a question.”

Abby stared into his face, which was sunburned and beginning to peel. “I know my cousin is involved in this. You might as well admit it.”

“Good idea,” Gage agreed. “Unless you plan to go to jail with these two and let your buddy Jude off the hook.”

Sean looked horrified, his pale eyebrows climbing to the top of his sunburned forehead. “Wait a minute! I didn’t do anything. We were just supposed to follow you, see if there was really any gold. If it was real, Jude figured he’d contest the will and get the money. It was Ray’s idea to use Abby to get the treasure.”

“What about your dead friend, Boyd McGrath?” Gage asked. “I guess you don’t consider that a problem.”

“I-it was an accident. Boyd was scouting ahead when it started to rain. When he didn’t come back, we figured he’d holed up somewhere till the storm was over. We didn’t realize what had happened until we saw the chopper. We followed it, and there he was, dead, pinned in the rocks below.”

“Who hired Peters to follow us?” Gage asked.

“Boyd did. I wanted to go back when I realized Boyd was dead, but Ray refused to quit, and I couldn’t get back on my own.”

Gage nodded sagely. “I get it. Rock and a hard place, right? Next time, consider the consequences before you do something stupid.” Gage looked over at the big bald guy. “Your buddy over there . . . what’s his name?”

“He’s not my buddy. He’s a friend of Ray’s. His name is Mack Ringo. He’s from Phoenix. I helped you, okay? So will you put in a good word for me with the cops?”