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it’s not broke, why fix it?”
    “Team One wants to be called somethin’ with more punch,” Nana chimed in, “but we need extra time on account of we got consensus issues.”
    We downshifted past a Braemar eatery with outdoor picnic tables, then slowed to a crawl past a cluster of quaint shops with steep roofs and chimney pots. “One last thing,” Mom continued as we rounded a sharp curve leading toward the town center. “We don’t want anyone to develop ulcers on this trip, so I’m going to suggest that all five teams keep mum about their luck finding the cache, and at a specified time each evening, I’ll make a formal announcement about the day’s results. Does that sound like a good idea, Emily?”
    Bless her heart. Mom was all right, despite what Nana said about her. “Great idea,” I agreed. “So please remember, people, poker faces. No saying anything to anyone until Mom announces the results every night.” Gee, this was working out much better than I ever thought it would.
    As we cruised to a stop in the parking lot of what looked like an upscale highland strip mall, Wally took over again. “Mark the time, everyone. Teams Two, Three, and Four should meet back here in an hour and a half to perform their searches. We board the bus again in two hours. And to remind you again, there’s a cooler up front here with bottled water that’s free for the taking, compliments of Destinations Travel, any time you’re thirsty. You’ll find lots of places to eat in Braemar, plus craft and gift shops and a really fine tartan store if you’re in the market for a cashmere sweater or kilt.”
    Cashmere? I was always in the market for cashmere, especially if I could find it at bargain basement prices.
    The bus emptied in record time. While Bernice and her team members gathered around Mom to receive their coordinates, the other teams scattered, some heading for the elegant stone building with gingerbread trim across the street, some readying their cameras to photograph the rock-strewn river we’d just crossed, and others wandering aimlessly on the sidewalk, looking as if they weren’t quite sure where to go. Dad stood on the street corner, in his mismatched John Deere windbreaker and Pioneer Seed Corn baseball cap, videotaping the helter-skelter departures.
    “Are we eating lunch, or doing something dutiful?” Etienne inquired as he came up behind me.
    I eyed the guests who were still dithering on the sidewalk. “Do those people look like they could use some guidance?”
    “Doing something dutiful,” he conceded. “Allow me to volunteer. I have a printout of every eatery in Braemar.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “And I suspect you might prefer to indulge in an activity that includes the word cashmere.”
    “You wanna come with me?”
    A good-natured smile spread across his handsome face. “It’s shopping, bella. I’m afraid I’d rather chew razor blades .”
    “Suit yourself,” I said, adding with a wink, “but to that point, I’ve heard that the new singled-edged slimlines are really quite tasty.”
    I tracked down Wally in the parking lot. “Which way to the cashmere?”
    “Is your radar broken?” He nodded toward the strip mall. “Right in front of you. And my sources tell me that prices have been slashed to an historic low, so knock yourself out.”
    Yes!
    I scarfed down an energy bar to boost my endurance then crossed the threshold of the tartan shop, pausing for just a moment to inhale the tantalizing smell of highland wool on sale for—I gaped at the sign—forty percent off the original price? Uff-da ! And I only had two hours to shop? Whose stupid idea had it been to spend a measly hundred and twenty minutes in Braemar anyway?
    And then I remembered.
    Oh, yeah. Mine. Damn.
    “Emily? Would you mind coming over here and giving me your honest opinion?”
    I darted a look around the store, spying Alex Hart in front of a curtained fitting room in the far corner, waving me toward