Forrest Fenn died without anyone finding his treasure, or at least that’s what most everyone believes.
I won’t tell you how I did it. I won’t tell you the secret of the poem he wrote which gave me the clues I needed to find millions in gold and jewels.
The old son of a bitch told everyone he hid that treasure in the Rockies in 2010 to inspire the spirit of adventure, but I figured out his real motive. He had been suspected but never charged with antiquities theft by the FBI in 2006. The feds could never find any proof, but I have.
Millionaires like Fenn don’t part with those kinds of riches so easily. It was on his property the whole time. All I had to do was wait until his staff was out of the house, break in, and through pain and fear, get the truth out of him. Then the damn poem made perfect sense.
That makes me a murderer, a thief, and a fugitive, but I’ve got enough money now to get away with it. I’ll spend the rest of my life in some tropical country with no extradition treaty with the U.S.
But what does that make Forrest Fenn who deliberately lied about his buried treasure, luring greedy but otherwise innocent people down a path toward disappointment, disability, and death?
The story about Forrest Fenn and his buried treasure is real. You can read all about it by clicking the links I embedded in my story. There is a poem that supposedly contains the clues to how to find the treasure, and the ex-wife of one of the men who died looking for it says the treasure is a hoax. It’s even true about Fenn being suspected of antiquities theft.
Putting that all together, I came up with a story of my own. Of course, it is fiction, but I think it’s interesting fiction.