I enjoyed holiday decorations, and trimming the tree was one of my favorite things about Christmas, but it always made me a little melancholy too, and I always missed Fletcher a little more during this time of year. The old man had always embraced the holiday spirit, decorating the Pork Pit with lights, tinsel, and mistletoe, conducting toy and food drives, and buying me, Finn, and the Deveraux sisters silly little gifts. This year, I felt even bluer than usual, Fletcher’s loss compounded by all these unanswered questions about my mother.

   “Hey, guys,” Owen called out. “Come check this out.”

   I moved away from the Christmas trees and went over to Owen, who was peering at a large wooden display case. Bria walked over to us as well.

   To my surprise, several pieces of old-fashioned jewelry lay inside the case, perched on black velvet stands. A square pendant, a wide choker, several rings, earrings, and bracelets, even a couple of antique hair combs. All the pieces were done in silverstone, and all were missing the most important things—the gemstones that went in the settings.

   “The Hidden Treasure of Bullet Pointe,” Owen rumbled, reading the information placard inside the glass. “This jewelry belonged to Sweet Sally Sue, a wealthy coal baroness who built the Bullet Pointe hotel and theme park back during the Great Depression.”

   Several photos were also propped up in the case, showing Sweet Sally Sue, a tall, slender woman with blue eyes and long auburn hair curled into fat ringlets. She must have loved her theme park and jewelry because in every single picture she was dressed like an old-fashioned saloon girl and decked out in all her gems.

   I leaned closer, peering at the photos. A large, square sapphire went in the empty pendant, while the choker had featured three rows of diamonds. More sapphires and diamonds adorned the rest of the jewelry, along with generous helpings of rubies, emeralds, and other precious stones. Sweet Sally Sue hadn’t skimped on her baubles. Even back then, the gemstones would have been worth a fortune.

   “Sweet Sally Sue loved puzzles,” Owen continued reading. “To celebrate what would have been Sweet Sally Sue’s one hundred twenty-fifth birthday this year, her jewels were removed from their settings, placed into a black velvet bag, and hidden in the Bullet Pointe theme park, where they remain to this day. Whoever finds the bag of gemstones will be allowed to keep them, as well as their original settings. They will also receive a free lifetime pass to the theme park and hotel.”

   Owen stopped and blinked, as if the final sentence on the placard surprised him. He cleared his throat and finished reading. “The contest was the brainchild of the current resort owner, Deirdre Shaw.”

   I eyed the empty jewelry settings. They reminded me of an engagement ring that Fletcher had once given to Deirdre—one that she’d pried the diamond out of and sold on the sly.

   “Hidden treasure? Up for grabs for whoever can find it in the theme park?” Bria huffed. “Sounds like a publicity stunt. A way to get more people to come to the park and spend their money searching for something that’s not even there.”

   “Probably, knowing Deirdre,” I said. “That, or she sold the stones to pay for her own creature comforts and upgrades to the hotel and didn’t want anyone to realize what she’d done.”

   “Well, don’t tell Finn,” Bria warned, “or he’ll have us all out scouring every park bench and trash can for those rocks.”

   “Actually,” Finn said, coming up behind her, “that is on my to-do list.”

   Bria winced and faced him. He arched his eyebrows, but she shrugged, realizing that it was too late to take back her snarky words.

   “Anyway,” Finn said, “I’ve got us all checked in, and the bellmen are taking our luggage up to our suites. The manager’s expecting me upstairs in her office. Let’s go see what she has to say for herself.”

   He held his arm out to Bria. “Shall we, my lady?”

   She nodded and threaded her arm through his, and the two of them headed for the elevators in the back corner of the lobby.

   I stayed by the display case, still staring down at the empty jewelry settings. They were just metal husks now, stripped of the stones that had made them so lovely, but the longer I looked at them, the more heavy worry weighed down my stomach. Even though Sweet Sally Sue was dead, and Deirdre along with her, I could almost feel their ghosts hovering in the air around me, whispering taunts that I couldn’t quite make out.

   “Gin?” Owen asked. “You ready to go?”

   “Yeah,” I said, once again trying to banish my nagging feeling that something was seriously wrong here. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

7

   Finn held the elevator for Owen and me, and the four of us rode up to the third floor, where the resort manager’s office was.

   The elevator opened up into a long hallway with rooms and offices branching off either side. Unlike the lavish lobby, this floor was much more Spartan and businesslike, with no antlers, wagon wheels, or other Western decor anywhere in sight. The only decorations were the photos that lined the walls, showing scenic views of the hotel, the theme park, and the lake that ringed them both, along with several posed, autographed glamour shots of rich and famous people who’d stayed here over the years.

   I didn’t care about the celebrities, but I would have liked to have lingered and studied the other photos, but Finn was in a rush, and he hurried right on past them to the corner office at the end of the hallway. He knocked on the closed door, then turned the knob and opened it a crack.

   “Ms. Wyatt?” he called out. “It’s Finnegan Lane. I believe you’re expecting me.”

   “Of course, of course,” a bright, cheery voice replied. “Y’all come right on in.”

   Finn opened the door the rest of the way, and the four of us trooped into the office.

   Well, now I knew why the rest of the floor didn’t have any Western decorations. Because they were all in here.