Chapter 17: Discovery

There is a stunned silence in the room after Barb’s announcement. It is a Saturday afternoon and Barb had called Maggie and Ricky over to her house to give them the latest news she just learned from a private investigator in Norfolk.

“Whoa,” says Maggie. “That will take a minute to wrap my head around. You are saying that your ex-husband is the bastard offspring of Beth Brimble, the wife of the man that built this house? And Nick’s dad committed suicide, but he wrote a note telling Nick that old-man Brimble had a treasure stashed somewhere on the property?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” says Barb.

“Is it true? Is there really a treasure?” asks Maggie.

Ricky finally breaks his silence. “Nick certainly thought it was the truth. His late-night escapades with a flashlight, both inside and out, and then the holes in the walls the last night he was in the house, indicate that he was searching.”

The two women look at Ricky, digesting what he is saying.

“And,” he continues, “so far everything Robin told me has turned out to be true – the bastard child, the scandal and arrest of her father’s friend – which makes me think there may have also been a treasure.”

“May have?” asks Maggie with a trace of disappointment in her voice.

“That was a very long time ago,” says Ricky. “I would assume Darren Brimble probably stole a cache of money from Steve’s house just like some of the papers guessed. But he needed the money the buy this land. Build these houses. And he was well known in the area. He must have been a bit of a philanthropist. With all that spending, would there be any money left? I’m not sure.”

Barb sighs, “You make some really good points.”

Ricky finishes with a final thought. “We’ve lived in our house for almost six years. You’ve been here for a little under a year. At no point have any of us had an inclination that something isn’t right or there is a hidden treasure on the property.”

As Ricky finishes speaking he stands and starts to wander about the room, looking closely at the walls, the crown molding in the ceiling, the floors. Maggie and Barb also start to wander through the house gazing at each room’s architecture with a new eye. Thirty minutes later they all meet in the kitchen.

“I think you’re right,” says Barb. “I just don’t see how a cache of money could be stashed in the house.”

Maggie agrees with her head, but in her heart she still wishes they would find something.

The next few weeks are very busy. Other than in-passing encounters Maggie and Ricky do not have a chance to talk with Barb. Finally, a Saturday night is again free for the three of them and they plan on one of their regular evenings together at Maggie and Ricky’s house.

At 6:30 Barb knocks on the unlocked door and then lets herself into the house, calling out to Maggie and Ricky that she has arrived. She sees Maggie in the kitchen amid a semi-controlled mess.

“What in the world?” says Barb as she takes the two bottles of wine and lemon pie she is carrying and deposits them in the refrigerator.

“I had the bright idea that we’d try a fondue dinner tonight. I knew we had a cooking set, but it turned out to be buried deeper in the pantry than I remembered.”

Barb chuckles as she surveys the myriad collection of small appliances and foodstuffs that are scattered on top of the counter.

“If nothing else, you can take this opportunity to clean out anything that is out of date,” she jokes.

“Ha, ha,” says Maggie. “Now make yourself useful. Had me the crock pot.”

Maggie plants herself in the pantry and asks Barb to giver her various appliances. She tightly packs everything back onto shelves, ultimately ending up with a tightly arranged, but still equally full pantry.

“At least it’s all back on a shelf,” rationalizes Maggie.

Barb starts to help Maggie prep the meats and vegetables for dinner.

“Hey,” yells Maggie to her husband. “Dinner is served in 10 minutes.” She hears what sounds to be a positive comeback from Ricky and returns her focus to the task at hand.

As the three finish dinner Barb says, “The fondue pot may have been a pain to get to, but it was well worth it. This was fantastic.”

Ricky agrees and leans back patting his stomach.

“As usual, I ate too much,” he says.

“I’m sure there is room for some lemon pie,” says Maggie with a smirk. She knows it is one of Ricky’s favorites and he won’t say no to dessert.

“Oh, the torture,” he says, “I’m going to explode.”

Dessert is produced, along with more wine, and the three settle into a comfortable after-dinner bliss.

“Have you two thought any more about our last conversation? A possible treasure?” asks Barb.

“Are you kidding,” says Barb. “We have obsessed over it for the past few weeks. We walk from room to room just staring, but not really seeing anything.”

Barb nods. “Me, too. I can’t go into a room without scanning it for the thousandth time.”

Barb and Maggie are looking at each corner of the kitchen as they speak. Ricky shakes his head and says, “Why don’t you two make another round of the house. I’ll clean up the dishes and we can then play some cards.”

Barb and Maggie walk from one room to the next, just like they have done countless times in the past. Neither one says anything as they are lost in thought. They finally relent and return to the kitchen to find it spotless, cards and a score sheet on the table, and a pot of coffee brewing.

Somehow they are able to put the treasure hunt out of their mind and get through a couple of card games. Maggie is ecstatic. She usually comes in third at any card game they plan, but tonight she won both games.

At the end of the game Barb rises and says that she needs to call it a night. The following Friday and Saturday evenings are booked so they agree on a Sunday brunch. Ricky walks Barb next door and sees her safely inside before he returns to his house. When he enters he is met with a surprise. Maggie had started to undress for bed, but is sitting on a chair in the living room with her shoes in one had and her shirt hanging open.

“Do you think...” is all Maggie can say as she looks absentmindedly at the ceiling.

Ricky falls heavily onto a matching chair and looks around the room.

“I don’t know. I really don’t.”

The next day Maggie is still distracted. After weeks of guessing she cannot let go of the idea of a treasure. Ricky finally makes a suggestion that he hopes will quell Maggie’s unsubstantiated passion.

“Listen, let’s make one final, detailed pass through the house. If we don’t find anything that may give us a clue we agree to let this idea go.”

Maggie agrees, at least in principle.

Before they start Ricky makes a run to the garage and his toolbox, as well as the office. When he returns he has a yellow pad, a pencil, a ruler, his electronic tape measure, and a rubber mallet. They start in the master bedroom and make measurements along each wall which Ricky carefully transfers to his yellow pad. They also use the mallet and gently tap it against the walls listening for any telltale response.

Two hours later they have measured, tapped, and documented every room in the house with no obvious leads. Their last stop is the living room where they look at one another.

“I guess that’s that,” says Maggie.

Ricky doesn’t want to discourage Maggie, but also wants her to face reality.

“I think so,” he says.

An uneasy agreement settles between Maggie and Ricky. She knows her desire to keep looking is in contrast with Ricky’s more practical, and likely, belief that there is nothing to be found after all these years. He occasionally catches her casting a hopeful eye around each room.

On Saturday they spend the day out of the house. They run errands and do grocery shopping, returning to the house only to drop off the food before a date night – dinner and a movie.

Ricky parks the car and they head inside.

Maggie says, “How about you make us some margaritas and meet me on the veranda?”

Ricky likes the idea and gives Maggie a quick kiss and squeeze on her butt before heading to the kitchen to make their drinks. Fifteen minutes later he finds her out back leaning against the wooden rail wearing nothing but the small red panties she put on earlier.

He walks up behind her and rubs himself against her backside as he reaches around and hands her a margarita. After she frees his hand he uses it to cup a breast. The two make short work of the drinks so they can get to the real fun. After they please each other Maggie snuggles into Ricky’s chest as they lay on the chaise lounge.

“Do you think Barb ever hears us?” asks Maggie.

“Yes,” answers Ricky.

Maggie bolts up and stares at her husband. “Really?”

Ricky says, “Sure, haven’t you noticed the look she give us when she comes over the day after we’ve made love out here?”

Maggie nods her head.

“Don’t worry about it. Remember the first time she saw you? I had just sprayed you with the house and you were sporting a flimsy wet t-shirt. I think she finds it amusing that we’re so active – inside and outside.”

Maggie playfully slaps Ricky on the shoulder.

“Here, take care of this,” she says as she hands him her glass. “Then hurry back. We’ve got the ‘outside’ checked off for tonight, but I think we need to also check off the ‘inside’.”

Ricky takes the glasses and nakedly heads to the kitchen to put them in the sink. Instead he quickly washes them and puts them in the strainer before turning to the bedroom. When he passes the living room something catches his eye and he turns to stand in the doorway. It’s the same room he has investigated countless times, but tonight something feels different.

He doesn’t know how long he has stood in the doorway, but he feels a hand caress his shoulder and then seductively work its way down his bare back.