Hargreaves nodded and helped her to the library. Johnny was already there and had the operator on the line. Vi telephoned Rita first and warned her of the danger. The second she ended the call, Vi gave Hargreaves the telephone and asked him to call the doctor and then bring Lila down.
Vi limped to the front of the house, conscious of the fact that Johnny was trailing behind her once more like a mother duck, and found Jack carrying a half-aware Denny inside.
“What happened?” Jack demanded as he laid Denny on the Chesterfield in the parlor.
“Those mad men seeking for the goblet thought we had it. They grabbed us the moment we left the auto and were rather rough with us.”
There was a fury in Jack’s gaze that Vi hadn’t seen in quite some time. “Are you all right?”
“They put a hood over my head and told me to be a good girl. So, I’m furious. Beyond that, I’m just a little scratched up and bruised.” She tucked her arms close so he wouldn’t see the blood right away. She needed him clear-headed and not charging off in a blood-boiling fury.
Vi watched his jaw flex over and over and then he glanced past her as Lila arrived.
“He’ll be fine, Lila.”
She hurried across the parlor and knelt next to Denny. Her big eyes were wide with concern as she looked back at Vi and demanded, “What happened?”
“We got back from our day of hunting treasure, and they must have thought that we had that goblet. Jack—”
He shook his head at the plea for… she didn’t even know what she was looking for. She just wanted to feel as though the last half hour hadn’t happened. Vi shivered and rubbed her arms, forgetting the scratches and blood, but the sting was easy to ignore.
Vi’s gaze turned to Lila. “I…Lila…I…they asked me the questions. When I didn’t answer, they hit him. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to send them to Rita.”
“I understand,” Lila murmured. “We’d have done the same for you and she for us.”
“I’m sorry, Lila. I should have—”
“You should have what?” Lila sniffed and gently took Denny’s hand. “You did the right thing. The good news is that Denny has a hard head. He’ll be fine, and you’ll find the ones who hurt him for a goblet and fictional treasure. It’s…it’s…stupid. We will make them pay.”
The last was said to Jack, and he agreed.
“What happened earlier in the day, Vi?” he asked a little too calmly. He must have seen the scratches.
“Nothing that felt useful. We had fun, but—”
“There must have been something.”
Vi pressed her fingers to her aching temples. “Rita knew someone from the family. We visited her and invited her to the house. She told us about the family, and we looked about a bit. There are scratches on the bottom of the goblet,” she added.
“That doesn’t sound all that useful,” Jack muttered. “This whole thing is just…just…”
“They believe it,” Lila said from her position on her knees, her hand slowly pushing back Denny’s hair. “They believe in the treasure.”
Jack grunted. “You’re right. It’s real to them. And people murder over far less than a mythical treasure.” Jack carefully reached out and took Vi’s hands in his. He turned her wrists over and looked at the scratches.
Vi bit on her bottom lip. “We talked to Harriet Prescott. She didn’t believe in the treasure. Not really. Her cousin Oscar is the believer. He’s always believed. He was the one who told Edward about it.”
Jack nodded. “This just got significantly more dangerous.” He let go of her hands, curling his into fists and breathed deeply. Striving, she thought, for patience.
“I know,” Vi said simply. “I called Rita and Ham and warned them. Ham wasn’t home yet.”
“I don’t like how we’re separated,” Jack affirmed. “We’re more vulnerable this way.”
Their gazes met and she could see all of the worry and the fear and the burning rage in his gaze, and he could see, she hoped, her love and her trust in him.
“We have to find the treasure,” Vi told Jack. “Or discredit the possibility of it. That’s the only way to end this.”
His jaw was flexing again, and his fury was barely contained. Vi didn’t reach out, knowing he needed to gain control before he’d find comfort in her touch.
“We have to find both the treasure and the man who did this,” Jack told her. “Otherwise that house isn’t safe for anyone.”
Vi stepped back and gave him space. He eyed her, and she could see his anger increase with her retreat. He turned and slammed his fist into the wall. It wasn’t clear if the sound woke Denny or if he’d awoken and had been watching, but Jack’s fist through the plaster had Denny hooting a weak laugh.
Lila’s laugh echoed Denny’s and there were tears in her voice when she said, “He’ll be fine.” After a long pause, she added, “Until I kill him.”
Vi’s head tilted at her husband who had pressed his face to the wall and was breathing slowly. “Do you feel better?”
He sighed into the wall and countered, “Are you truly all right? You aren’t going to have nightmares?”
“I like your hands,” she told him easily, “so I suspect I might. What will I do if you turn your fingers to mush by pounding the wall and I have to feed you? If that happens, I can promise you, dear Jack, that I will ensure your food is always cold.”
His arm snaked out and slid around her waist, pulling her close even though he still pressed his face against the wall. His gentle handling of her was completely opposite of the fiend that had pinned her down. “We discovered nothing. You learned nothing?”
Vi cupped his jaw and whispered into his neck, “Please be gentler with yourself.”
“What did you learn?” he asked again. “There must have been something.”
“Only that the story of the treasure is shaky. The idea that there is significance in the scratches someone carved onto the bottom
