Trouble & Treasure - Dave Moyer (reading rainbow books .TXT) 📗

stairs that descended down the side of the cliff and onto the wide stone ledge that led around the bottom of the lighthouse, a rusted green, copper colored door visible at the base of the building below. The stairs that led down the side of the cliff looked sturdy; massive metal bolts securing them to the rock.

I turned off the engine, this time pulling the handbrake on; while I had to admit that we might require a quick getaway, I didn’t want to see my car roll off the side of a cliff and into the sea.

I got out of the car, face turning to the sky above, those clouds racing ever quicker.

Amanda got out too, and I watched her wince, pain obvious as she put weight on her feet.

I turned, shook my head, and motioned with my hand back to the car. “You can stay in the car.”

“I know I can stay in the car,” she said as she straightened her back, “Just as I know I can get out of the car and join you in trying to solve this clue.”

I didn't bother repeating myself; it seemed as though she had made her mind up. Though she winced with every step she took on the hard and rough stone of the parking area, I turned away. I considered taking off my own shoes and offering them to her, but I could plainly see that I was a few sizes larger, and I didn’t want her to trip while she was walking down the stairs and fall into the raging sea below.

Then I remembered something. Damn, I had a pair of high heels in my boot, and no, they were not mine. Let's just say they were left over from a one night stand.

I rushed to the boot, searching around my junk until I found them. I had intended to drop them off at the owner's office – a fiery red head who had been ridiculously good-looking. With one thing and another, mostly running into Amanda Stanton and trying to secure the Stargazers before every criminal in the world managed to beat me to them, I hadn’t managed to drop the heels off. When I produced them triumphantly from my boot, you should have seen the look on Amanda's face. Her chin dimpled with amusement as she took a quick look at the heels then down at my feet.

“They aren't mine.” I said, voice too forceful. “They are from a one night stand,” I clarified.

The look on her face didn't improve. She crinkled her nose in disgust.

“Look, if you want to come along, you're going to need some shoes, and this is all I've got.” I dangled them in one hand.

She didn’t look pleased, and she still looked insulted from the one-night-stand comment, if insulted was the right word. But she limped over and took them from me, turning them over in her hands.

“Do they pass?” I said, voice sarcastic.

“They will do, not too high that I’ll break my neck going down the stairs.” She checked the thick and not-too-high heel with her hands, trying to pull it apart as if she was testing the strength. She shrugged, put one hand on the car to support herself, and wriggled into them.

I tried not to watch, though she was showing an appreciable amount of leg from the slit in her skirt; despite my nature, it didn't seem right. So I turned, played with my jaw, and took the opportunity to survey the road. It was a one-way road that terminated at the small area I'd parked in. The only way out was along the way I’d come in. It meant it was fantastic to see oncoming traffic, and bad if we’d to get away, because if someone was blocking the road further up and was waiting for us, there was no way past. Not for the first time, I got the distinct feeling that the best thing to do was to get the hell out of here and find a hotel to stay in for the night.

Something didn't feel right. Maybe it was the fact this clue of Amanda’s was shaky, or maybe it was more. I’d been in this business long enough to realize you had to trust your gut, even though your gut didn’t speak in easy-to-understand, full sentences. Speaking of guts, Amanda's stomach took the opportunity to rumble, and she clutched a hand to it, looking embarrassed.

She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and while Elizabeth's breakfasts were massive, that had been a long time ago. She wouldn’t have drunk anything either. She kept swallowing uncomfortably, even patting a hand to her throat.

“Let's get it over with as quick as we can,” I mumbled.

She walked away from the car, and though she was slow, and had an obvious limp, she managed to stay upright and stable. Rather than pay attention to her injuries, she took the opportunity to stare across at the lighthouse. Playing with her lips, she walked closer to the rails, latching her hands onto them as she leaned forward and tried to track the path of the shadow.

“Do you think the lighthouse is open?” she asked.

No, I didn't. You didn’t leave a lighthouse unlocked, unless you had a big butch lighthouse operator who lived there. The thing about tall abandoned buildings was that every kid in the local district would find some way to vandalize them.

Amanda, one hand on the railing, moved the other around, her fingers drawing a circle in the air. It was obvious she was trying to track where the probable shadow would move and where the light from the flood lamps could cross it.

I stared at a section of the cliff face below us, right near the railing. The railings, though sturdy, looked old. Even if they’d been replaced once or twice since the lighthouse itself had been built, the section of cliff they were dug into looked as if it hadn’t changed.

I walked over to the top of the steps, teeth grating as something distinct caught my eye. With a quick glance across to the lighthouse I realized that the thing catching my eye happened to be in direct line of the lighthouse, both in line with its shadow and with one of the windows its powerful lamps shone through.

Without a word, I took to the stairs, feet dancing out in front of me, metal grating ringing from the impact of my steps.

Amanda asked what I was doing, even came to follow me, but I was too focused to answer. I didn’t want to lose sight of what I’d seen: that glint of metal near the stairs.

I stopped, dropping to my knees and latching a hand onto the railing and pulling myself out from the steps, until I was leaning as far from them as my arms could manage. To my left, just in reach, was a metal trinket. It would have been innocuous were it not for the fact it was lodged into the stone, a crack having been formed in the rock by some fashion, and the metal trinket being shoved tightly down it.

I leaned out as far as I could until my fingers brushed against it.

Amanda stopped several steps above me, both hands on the railing, her body pressed into it, her face tense as she watched me. She didn't ask what I was doing; apparently it was obvious. When I managed to latch my fingers over the trinket and began to pull, I recognized it was an impossible task to yank it out of a stone. I gave it my best shot, grunting all the time, but it didn't work.

I drew myself back in, swearing forcefully.

Amanda stepped down, hovering close to me.

I straightened up, cracked my shoulders, and shook my head.

Amanda grabbed the railing and pressed against it as far as she could, obviously trying to get a better view of the trinket. “Do you think that's it?”

No, I honestly didn't. It had caught my eye, yes, and technically it was in a place where the shadow met the light. That didn’t mean it was our next clue. It was just a shiny trinket that had managed to catch my attention, but god dammit if I wasn't a treasure hunter; when I saw shiny, I tended to move heaven and earth to get to it.

“You know, I think I might be able to reach it.” She stood up onto the step above, grabbing the railing with both hands and leaning forward.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I said, stepping in.

She'd had a big day, and just like you weren’t meant to drive heavy machinery when you were drowsy, you sure as hell were not meant to lean over railings on a cliff when you were dead fatigued.

“Do something useful, and hold my arm,” she said as she brought one leg up and tried to haul herself over the railing.

“No you don't,” I snapped, “Get back over here.”

It was too late; she’d already managed to climb over the railing, still holding on with both hands, one foot on the edge of a step, one wedged onto a tiny rock ledge.

“Amanda,” I snapped, voice even angrier, “Get back here.” I moved in to grab her, to secure an arm around her and to latch my free hand onto the railing to ensure she couldn’t fall. As I did she let go of the railing with one hand, using the other to span the gap and grab hold of the trinket. It was the most precarious of positions, and I had to say my heart beat frantically seeing it.

“Amanda.” I latched one hand onto the railing. I put my other arm flat against her forearm as she held the railing, securing it in place with perhaps the most determined grip I’d ever mustered.

“It will be fine,” she said, voice shaky as she tried to yank at the trinket sunk into the rock.

“No, it won't be fine. Now get the fuck back here.” Keeping my arm were it was, I pressed into the railing further, letting go of it with my other hand and leaning out to grab hold of the back of her skirt.

She fidgeted but kept her stance, and kept trying to yank the object free.

“Amanda.”

There was a monumental clap of thunder from above, accompanied by a massive flash and, you guessed it, the powerful drive of rain.

Neither of us were expecting it, and though Amanda only tensed, flinching a fraction at the surprising sound, it was enough to see her footing slip.

I launched against the railing, grabbing her arm and skirt as I tried to yank her backwards.

Though she tumbled down the rocks, her shoes sliding and scampering wildly against the rough stone, I managed to secure her in place, somehow wrapping my arms around her waist, though I dangled half over the railing myself.

Her breath was sudden and shallow, her diaphragm pressing up against my arm in puffs and spurts. Dammit if I couldn't feel her heartbeat reverberate through my arm as it pressed so closely to her chest.

She hadn't even screamed, though now she started to whine, somewhat like one of those old klaxons from World War II that warned people of air raids.

I pulled her back in, until I had her back secured against the railing, but before I could try and pull her back over, she crossed one of her arms over, grabbed the railing, turned and faced me. She clambered over herself, despite the fact I hardly wanted to let go of her. She somehow wriggled free, and before I knew it, jumped back over the railing and stood beside me, pressing her back into the metal, taking several massive breaths.

I shook my head, it was literally the only thing I could do.

She offered me an awkward, toothy grin. “Thanks.”

I kept shaking my head. This girl was crazy.

The rain began to drive down harder now. I was already sopping wet, and I watched as rivulets ran fast down Amanda's face, pooling off her