Disoriented Dutchman's Gold Mine

Rick Allen

Description

Joe Waltz is the great-grandson of the famous Lost Dutchman, Jacob Waltz. The location of the gold mine was lost with the death of Joe's grandmother, or so he thought. His parents have been loose-lipped about their heritage, a mistake that forces them into hiding, and now places their lives in jeopardy because of an eavesdropping con man, bent on obtaining the treasure at any cost. Joe's ex-girlfriend, now privy to his true identity, also joins in the search, and has enlisted the help of her bumbling brother and friend in her scheme. With clues left by his late grandmother now surfacing, Joe's life and the famous Lost Dutchman's gold are in growing peril.

Informations

• Publié par: First Edition Design Publishing
• Date de parution: 15 décembre 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781622877850
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Disoriented Dutchman’s Gold Mine


By
Rick Allen
The Disoriented Dutchman’s Gold Mine
Copyright ©2014 Rick Allen

ISBN 978-1622-877-85-0 EBOOK

December 2014

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com



ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns ─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r or publisher .
CHAPTER 1

It came as no surprise to Frijole Joe, when he drove to the rear entrance of his restaurant that his girlfriend of five months, Melanie Fairbanks, had once again taken his reserved parking spot. This was something she had made a habit of doing over the past couple of months, a habit that he chose to think of as endearing rather than irritating. He wended his way across the loose-dirt of the crowded, parking lot, and scanned for an open space.
The restaurant bustled, the sounds of Mariachis hinting at a festive mood inside. It was Melanie’s birthday and despite the brevity of their relationship, Joe had decided to pop the question to her tonight. He eased his Ford Explorer into an empty parking spot, glanced down at the dozen roses lying on the seat next to him and felt for the ring in his pocket. Despite the light coating of dirt on his windshield, he could still make out the sign above the back entrance. It read:

FRIJOLE JOE’S MEXICAN FOOD RESTAURANT

Below it, in smaller lettering, was the query:

HOW YOU BEAN?

Although the restaurant, nestled at the base of the Superstition Mountains in Apache Junction, Arizona, bore his name, technically it belonged to his parents. They had left him in charge when they had abruptly left on an extended vacation. Joe felt that, even for his parents, this had been erratic behavior. Now, nearly one year to the day since their departure, he was less inclined to think of it as a joke, despite their keen sense of humor. They did, however, make it a point to keep in touch, and called him from remote locales around the world, to inquire about the restaurant and his prospects for marriage.
Despite their urgency concerning his marital status, Frijole Joe, now in his early thirties, did not consider himself desperate when it came to matters of the heart. On the contrary, as far as he was concerned, he could be classified as a romantic. He had first seen Melanie Fairbanks five months earlier at the Herberger Theater, in downtown Phoenix, playing the role of Lina Lamont in the musical, Singin’ in the Rain , a performance which left him so smitten that he had returned for the following night’s engagement, without the previous night’s date, roses in hand.
Their brief meeting had been electric. From the first moment, he was struck spellbound by her exquisite beauty. When she opened her mouth, however, it became apparent that the voice she had used in the role of Lina Lamont had been no act. Only by a Herculean effort had he been able to refrain from laughing.
However Joe had felt a connection with Melanie from the beginning and after five short months was without question in love, even though he was not entirely certain she reciprocated that particular emotion. It was for this reason that his stomach was now doing flip-flops as he shuffled his way through the dirt parking lot and paused at the restaurant’s entrance. Music and the scent of refried beans filled the air. Clearly the Mariachi’s were in rare form tonight. Taking a deep breath, he strode through the door.
“Joe! You look terrible. Where have you been?” Sylvia, who had been the hostess at Frijole Joe’s since the restaurant had opened, declared. And then, without waiting for an answer, “Melanie’s been driving us all crazy, asking us every couple of minutes if we’d heard from you.”
“It’s good to see you too, Sylvia. Me? Oh, I’m great. Thanks for asking. How are the acting classes going?”
“Way to change the subject, Joe,” she replied, sweeping her dark hair back from her face. “They’re going okay I guess. Still waiting for my big break.”
“Is Melanie out on the patio?”
“No. I tried to get her to take a seat on the patio like you asked, but she said it was too cold. She made it quite clear that she wanted to be seated in the dining room and not outside.”
“Did you tell her about the new space heaters?”
“I told her.”
“That’s all right then. Is she at table nine?”
“Yes. Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You look a little nervous.”
He took a long breath. “I’m fine, Sylvia. I could use a little privacy, though. If we need a waitress, I’ll let you know. Incidentally, how’s your daughter doing?”
Joe knew that he was using every excuse in the book to keep from popping the question, but now that the time had come to fish or cut bait, he had to fight the impulse to cut and run, roses and all.
“We had to stop Crystal’s treatment,” she told him. “Insurance won’t cover them anymore. I’m sure she’ll be fine, though. Thanks for asking. You’d better hustle.”
Flashing Sylvia his best disarming smile, Joe rounded the corner into the dining area, nodding and waving to a few regulars en route to his table. As he approached Melanie looked up and returned his smile with one which had on so many occasions in the last months, melted his heart.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he said, handing her the bouquet of roses. “I’m sorry I’m late. Have you been waiting long?”
“No, not long,” she said, fussing with the flowers. “I’ve been trying your cell phone. Why haven’t you answered?”
“I’m sorry. The battery just hasn’t been holding a charge. I really need to get that thing replaced.”
“The flowers are beautiful.. I love roses.”
“I know. Do you remember the first time –?”
Melanie did not let him finish. “Joe, we didn’t have to come here tonight. We could’ve gone to that new Italian place downtown. I hear their shrimp linguini is to die for.”
“That’s true. We could have gone somewhere else. But tonight’s your birthday and I wanted this to be the place…”
“This to be what place? What are you trying to say, Joe? Don’t mumble.”
Joe pushed back from the table and fell on one knee at Melanie’s side. “Melanie Fairbanks,” he declared. “I’m in love with you. Helplessly, head over heels in love with you. I count the minutes we’re apart. It pains me to be away from you. I asked you here tonight because I wanted this to be the place that I asked for your hand in marriage.”
Melanie pulled the roses to her face and inhaled deeply.
“Search your heart, Melanie. I think you love me just as much as I love you. We belong together.”
“Get up, Joe,” she urged him. “People are staring. I probably should have stopped this earlier.”
“Stopped what?” he said, rising.
“I’m afraid I don’t love you. Joe, you’re a nice guy, but I refuse to settle.”
“Settle?” He stared at her, bewildered. “What are you talking about?”
“Now don’t get me wrong. You do okay for yourself, but this restaurant isn’t even yours. It’s your parents. I’ve got bigger aspirations than Apache Junction, Arizona. I’m going to make it someday in Hollywood. ”
All this was taking him completely by surprise. She’d mentioned Hollywood before, sure, but he’d thought of it as just one of those things, just Melanie thinking big.
“You’re a gifted actress, Melanie. I’ll give you that. I think you’ve got a descent enough shot at making it in Hollywood, if that’s what you really want. I just think –”
“It is what I want, Joe. Thanks for being so understanding.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to give it some thought? Maybe sleep on it? You might –”
“Come on, Joe. In all seriousness what’s there really to think about? Listen. I’m sorry to be so blunt. Are you going to be okay?”
“Oh, I think I’ll pull through,” he said, reaching below the table. “I guess I’ll just have to hang on to this for a while longer.”
Joe pulled an elegant gold ring from his pocket with a diamond perched on top easily five karats. Several heads turned in Joe’s direction when the light bounced off the diamond causing a momentary disco ball effect, in the dining room. Melanie’s jaw nearly hit the bowl of salsa on the table in front of her.
Miguel, who had clearly been waiting for the ring to make its appearance, gave the word and his band of Mariachis quickly gathered around the table and began to serenade the happy couple.
Frijole Joe drew his right hand with the thumb extended across his throat, intimating to Miguel that the music be killed. Miguel waved his right arm and shook his head. The band members stopped playing, and quickly retreated to the other end of the dining room.
Joe turned his attention back to Melanie. Her mouth was still agape and she had yet to utter a word.
“You’re probably wondering how I could afford a ring like this.”
Melanie nodded, but her gaze remained transfixed on the ring, and she said nothing.
“Are you familiar with the legend of the Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine?” Joe asked.
At this, Melanie did take her eyes off the ring and looked at Joe. “Of course I’ve heard of the Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine. We’re sitting at the base of the Superstition Mountains in Apache Junction, Arizona. That’s all anybody around here talks about. Are you going to tell me you’ve found the mine?”
Much as Joe wanted to leave and nurse his disappointment in private, he decided to feed her curiosity and tell her what she wanted to know.
“First of all, Frijole is the nickname my parents gave me when they opened the restaurant. They thought it would fuel sales. As it turned out, they were right.”
He then, taking a certain pleasure in seeing her eyes grow wider and wider, went on to tell her that he was actually