Wait Until Dark: Carolina Moon Series, Book 3 Page 18

  What was she thinking? Her time was ticking away, and here she was sleeping.

  She rubbed her eyes again and searched the room. She expected to see Brody sleeping on the other couch, but it was empty. He was gone.

  She stood, the blanket dropping to the floor. Instantly, cold surrounded her.

  The house was quiet—too quiet. An instant sense of uneasiness overtook her.

  She wandered into the kitchen and saw a fresh pot of coffee brewing. She poured herself a cup, and her hands hugged it as she continued to wander the house.

  When she walked into the dining room, she found Brody at a computer that had been shoved into the corner. He turned when he saw her, looking bright-eyed and wide-awake.

  “Morning.”

  His grin caused another wave of heat to rise on her cheeks. “Morning.”

  Felicity stared at the screen, trying to figure out what he was doing. She padded closer, still trying to jostle her mind into action. Of all the places he might be searching, the computer was the last one she would have guessed.

  “I’ve been trying to find anything I can online that could help us,” he said.

  “Any luck?”

  He shook his head. “I wish. But, no, I haven’t found anything.”

  “I guess we have no excuse then not to go search in the attic.” She’d delayed doing it last night because it was so late and so dark when they arrived back. She’d hoped with a little sleep, she’d think more clearly.

  “You want to eat first? I can make you something.”

  His gesture warmed her, but she shook her head. “The coffee will do. My stomach is churning too much to eat. Just let me get changed. I’ve got to wake up.”

  “I’ll go on up there. You come up when you’re ready.”

  She quickly showered and dressed. Her throat again felt dry as she headed up those attic stairs. She’d grabbed another lantern to light her way.

  When she reached the top, she spotted Brody sitting in an old wooden chair in front of the filing cabinet. He’d pulled out all the drawers and was searching through papers.

  “Any luck?”

  He shook his head. “No, I wish I had better news. As you can see, I’ve gone through all of this. I figured it was our best option.”

  “I did also.”

  She let out a sigh. “I guess I could look behind some of these pictures and inside some of those old books.”

  Brody nodded. “Let’s exhaust every possibility.”

  Four hours later, they’d exhausted every possibility. They’d found nothing except lots of dust and a few mice.

  At the moment, they were back downstairs. Felicity plopped on the couch, fighting despair. She liked to believe—wanted to believe—there could be a decent outcome to this situation. But her hopes grew dimmer and dimmer with every failure and setback.

  This couldn’t end with her aunt being harmed . . . or worse. It just couldn’t. Yet she felt helpless to do anything about it.

  “Where did you say that sword came from?” Brody nodded toward the sword on the wall.

  “According to my aunt, it’s a hand-me-down from Blackbeard. I did see the initials ET on the handle, and many of the details match the style of that period in time. But it doesn’t offer us any clues.”

  He stood and took it down. “Are you sure?”

  “I can examine it again.”

  He sat beside her and handed her the sword. “Examine away.”

  She held it on her lap, the blade no longer sharp. The sword was heavy—so heavy that she had a hard time imagining having it strapped to her waist.

  Carefully, she raised it toward her eyes and examined the intricate carving along the handle and guard. There were trees, and maybe an owl, maybe a skull. It was so hard to tell.

  The handle was wrapped in leather, typical for the time period

  The strange thing was, this sword didn’t really look like it had ever been used. The thought seemed foreign. She’d seen this sword many times before—assuming it was mostly ornamental in the past. But normally the metal would have scrapes. The handles might have nicks. The leather would be more faded.

  This one had none of those things.

  “Well?” Brody asked.

  She shook her head. “It’s very interesting. The design is intricate—slightly faded. I like to imagine the history of the piece. Its origins, where it came from, who handled this. But we really have no way of knowing that.”

  “It’s a shame.”

  She held the sword closer again, looking at the carving there. “You know. This looks slightly familiar, but I’m not sure from where. The design is rather common. Trees. A skull.”

  “Is there a moon?”

  She squinted. “You know, now that you mention it, there is. It’s a full moon hidden behind those trees.”

  “Coincidence?”

  “It’s hard to say.” She touched the blade, felt its weight in her hand, and ran her finger down what was once a sharp edge. Did this have other clues that would help them? Next, her gaze traveled to that leather-wrapped handle. Was there something beneath the leather? Did she want to risk ruining the piece to find out?

  Gently, she tugged at the handle. Holding the blade in one hand, and the handle in the other, she tugged harder.

  “What are you doing?” Brody asked.

  “Something about this sword feels off. Maybe it’s the weight of it. I don’t know. The handle feels too thick.”

  “May I?” Brody extended his hand.

  “Please do.”

  He held it, bouncing it in his hand for several minutes as if testing the weight himself.

  “Do you know much about fencing?”

  “Would you believe me if I told you I did?” She’d taken lessons all through college, feeling like sword fighting was a stress reliever.

  “I agree that the handle feels thick. But I don’t know anything about swords.”

  “Historically, people were smaller back in the eighteenth century. Based on that information, I’d assume their hands would be smaller.”

  “What are you thinking?” His eyes connected with hers.

  “I know it sounds crazy . . .”

  “We’ll take anything at this point, right?”

  She nodded. “Right. We’re almost out of time.”

  As if on cue, her phone buzzed. She stole another glance at Brody before picking up her cell. “It’s Magnum.”

  “Answer it.” Brody moved closer.

  The tremble in her hands began again as she accepted the call and put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “You don’t appear to be looking very hard.” Magnum’s harsh voice came over the line, that familiar satisfaction in his tone.

  It made Felicity want to leap through the phone line and smack him. “What do you mean?” she finally said.

  “You’re at your house. I thought you’d be out traipsing around, looking for that map. After all, your aunt’s life depends on it.”

  Her back straightened with tension. “There is more than one way to look for something.”

  He grunted. “I suppose. But your time is running out.”

  “How do I know you didn’t find the treasure last night when you followed us?” Tension pinched her spine as she remembered the way events had unfolded.

  “I found a piece of gold. But there’s more out there. A lot more. I want to know where it is.”

  Her heart leaped into her throat. Had she heard him correctly? “You found a piece of Blackbeard’s gold?”

  “Just a couple of pieces. We’re searching for more in the river.”

  She stared at Brody a moment and saw the understanding in his gaze. “Why are you calling, Magnum?”

  “As a reminder that I have your aunt.”

  “You better not have hurt her.”

  “Or what? Or you’ll do a bad appraisal of my pirates’ gold?” He let out a sardonic chuckle.

  His words stung in ways they shouldn’t. But he knew how to hit where it
hurt.

  “As a matter of fact, I talked to your ex. Ricky, right?”

  Her throat tightened. “Why would you do that?”

  “He’s going to help me figure out the value of the treasures I find.”

  “If you find it.”

  She could hear his smirk across the phone line. “I’ll find it.”

  “I want to talk to my aunt.”

  “She’s fine.”

  “Prove it.”

  “Fine. Here she is. You have thirty seconds.”

  Rustling sounded in the background until her aunt’s voice came on the line. “Felicity?”

  “Aunt Bonny?” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “I’m fine. They’ve been feeding me crackers and water, so I guess that counts for food.”

  “They haven’t hurt you?” She closed her eyes, praying for another confirmation.

  “No, they haven’t hurt me. They’re mean men, though, Felicity. I wouldn’t put anything past them.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “I know, Aunt Bonny. I’m doing everything I can.”

  “I know you are, dear. Just know, whatever happens, I’ll be okay. I’m right with my Maker. Are you?”

  “I . . .” She glanced at Brody. “I am. I am now.”

  Brody squeezed her knee.

  “He’s coming back,” her aunt rushed. “But, Felicity, everything I told you is true.”

  “Everything you told me? What do you mean?”

  Before her aunt could answer, Magnum came back on the line. “Your thirty seconds are up. If you’re not careful, that will be the last time you speak with her. You have twenty-four more hours. And, whatever you do, don’t involve the police. You do, your aunt dies.”

  The line went dead.

  She nervously twisted the object in her lap.

  As she did, the sword’s handle popped off.

  She let out a gasp before looking down. There, tucked into the hollow center of the blade, was a piece of parchment paper.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Carefully, she pulled the paper from its sheath. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears, making her chest throb, making her lungs tighten.

  Could this be what they were searching for?

  Under normal circumstances, she’d use tweezers and other equipment to make sure the paper remained preserved. But she didn’t have that luxury now. Time wasn’t on her side.

  The paper popped out, and she carefully unrolled it, still unable to breathe until her eyes were able to ascertain what was inside. As the images appeared, her heart raced even faster.

  It was the other half of the map.

  She glanced behind her. The curtains were still closed. Magnum and his men shouldn’t be watching them right now.

  “We found it.” Brody’s voice rose with excitement.

  She nodded, feeling dumbfounded. “I can’t believe it. Maybe I really will get my aunt back.”

  “What is it?” Brody studied her face a moment. He must have noticed something was wrong.

  It was. Something nagged at the back of her mind, begging for her attention. What was it?

  She shook her head. “I’m not sure. I mean, I vaguely remember the other map, and I’m mentally putting it together in my mind. The thing is: I’m not sure that this map will lead anyone closer to the treasure. It just looks like a common map. There’s nothing marked here that’s out of the ordinary.”

  “Magnum must not agree.”

  “But why? What’s so special?”

  “Is there a hidden message on the back that you need lemon juice and water to see?”

  “That’s a myth. People didn’t really do that.” She stood and walked toward the dining room.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I took a picture of the other half of this map. It’s on my phone camera.”

  “Okay . . .” He kept pace beside her as she hurried past the table.

  “I want to put them together.”

  “You think that will help?”

  “You never know.” She sat at the computer and took a picture of the new map portion. It took several minutes, but she finally managed to manipulate the pieces until they fit together. She then printed out two copies so she could study them.

  Brody remained quiet, giving her space to think, which she greatly appreciated and needed.

  Her mind whirled—something internal begged for her attention. What was she missing? This map held some type of clue. She had to figure out what it was.

  Adrenaline pumping, she grabbed a red marker from the desk drawer. “I know this is a long shot, but I’ve got to try. Teach’s Oak was in Oriental, which was located about here.” She pointed to one area of the map and marked the spot.

  “Legend also said it was buried at Ocracoke,” Brody said.

  She nodded and found the approximate location of Ocracoke. She marked that spot with a red dot as well.

  “And the final place was Holiday Island, which is in the Neuse River,” she said.

  “That would be right about here.” Brody pointed to the area of the map where the river was now located.

  Felicity marked that area as well. Then she held the map back and looked at it. It had a little triangle of three dots.

  Her blood pumped with excitement. Could this really be it?

  “What is it?” Brody asked.

  “I’ll show you.” She got on the computer and searched through the images there until she found what she was looking for. “Here. Look at this.”

  “Blackbeard’s flag?” Brody mumbled.

  She nodded. “This is one version of it. There are several.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “One minute, and I hope this will make sense.” She kept scrolling until she found the one she wanted. She printed several different sizes, hoping one would work.

  “I’m not following this.”

  “You see these three dots on the bottom of his flag?” She pointed to them.

  “Can’t miss them.”

  She held her breath, hoping this would work. Praying it would. “Watch this.”

  Her hands showed her nerves as she lowered the flag on top of the map. The first one didn’t work. But the second appeared to be a perfect match.

  She grabbed a thumbtack and poked a hole through each of the dots.

  When she pulled the papers apart, the dots lined up almost perfectly.

  “His flag was a clue the whole time?” Brody said. “You’re brilliant.”

  She let out a breath. “I don’t know about that. I’m still not sure how much closer we are to finding answers.”

  “Put the flag back down on top of the map,” Brody said.

  She did.

  “Do you see where the arrow of his spear is pointing?” He touched the area. “Could you put a pinprick there?”

  “Why not?”

  She did as he asked and, when she pulled the paper away, she studied the location of the new dot.

  Brody put his hand on the mark. “Felicity, you realize where that spear was pointing, don’t you?”

  “No, where?” The truth was at the cusp of her mind.

  Brody’s eyes locked on hers. “It’s pointing to this very house.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “You really think the treasure is here?” Felicity asked, unable to believe a clue like that had been in front of them the whole time.

  Brody leaned closer to examine the map. “Look at the map, Felicity. This river here is the river outside your house. It branches off here, a little bit farther downstream. Believe me. I study a lot of nautical charts.”

  “You’re right. Has the treasure been here the whole time?” She shook her head, both flabbergasted and thrilled with the thought. “But where? We’ve searched the attic. There’s nowhere else.”

  Brody leaned back and let out a long breath. “Does the phrase we saw yesterday mean anything to you?”

  She recalled the crudely carved words on the wall
of the old cabin. “Wait until dark; the moonlight will be your guide?”

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  She searched her memories for any of her aunt’s old stories or family tales that might tie in but nothing registered. “I don’t think so.

  He squinted with thought before turning toward her. “The answers feel close.”

  “I agree.” She stood. “I need to see that sword again.”

  Brody followed her into the living room. She picked up the sword and studied the design on the hilt. The handle itself was rather plain, as was the guard. But the pommel was interesting with its intricate design. There was also the delicate symbol where the letters “ET” were. She turned it a different angle to examine it again.

  “I know where I recognize this from,” she whispered, the truth smacking her in the face. How had she not seen this before?

  “Where?”

  “There.” She turned and pointed to the stained glass window atop the wall. It had been in front of her the whole time.

  Brody glanced back and forth between the two. “You’re right. It’s a match. It’s hard to tell, but it’s the same.”

  Felicity stepped closer, something bugging her about all of this. “There’s one thing I don’t understand.”

  Brody appeared beside her. “What’s that?”

  “It’s like we talked about earlier: this house wasn’t built until 1802.”

  He turned away and studied the stained glass again. “You’re right. That doesn’t make sense. Yet the clues seem so obvious.”

  She wasn’t ready to let this drop. The answers were here. She just had to find them. “Brody, do you know if the blueprints for this house would be on file as a matter of record?”

  “I doubt they go back that far.”

  “But my grandma did have some work done on her bedroom before she died. Significant work. Maybe there’s record of that.”

  He glanced at his watch. “I think the county clerk works until five. We have about thirty minutes.”

  “You think we can make it?”

  “I say we try.”

  Brody stood beside Felicity in an old, dusty room in the county clerk’s office, pouring over old files. He rubbed her neck, sensing she was getting exhausted. As the saying went, this was like looking for a needle in a haystack. But they had to do everything they could to find answers.