Deadly Gift

by Heather Graham

  “You’re crazy, too,” she told him.

  He smiled. “There are a number of charts in Sean’s office.”

  “Maritime charts,” she agreed.

  “One of them was taken out of the frame, and lines were drawn on it,” he said.

  “And no one else noticed?”

  “No, it’s subtle, just a darkening of some of the original markings. If Sean were to really study it, he would see it. If I hadn’t been in there looking around last night, I might not have noticed it, either.”

  “So you have a line on a chart?” she asked him.

  “Yes.”

  “And it leads to…?”

  “Cow Cay. Eddie’s boat was found right off of Cow Cay,” he explained.

  She frowned, and met his gaze. “Zach, do you realize that you’ve passed the wharf?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “So where are we going?”

  “To buy supplies.”

  “Like?”

  “Shovels. How else do you dig for buried treasure?”

  “You are crazy,” she told him.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Crazy people never think they’re crazy,” she said.

  He shrugged. “All right, maybe I’m a little crazy. I guess it was the birds last night.”

  “The birds?”

  “You didn’t see them? There must have been hundreds of them.”

  “What kind of birds?”

  To Zach’s surprise, Caer appeared agitated.

  “Crows, I think. Maybe ravens. They were big crows, if they weren’t ravens.”

  “No, I didn’t see them,” she told him. She was looking straight ahead. Had he imagined the tension she suddenly displayed?

  “Are you afraid of birds?”

  “What?”

  “Birds. Do they frighten you?”

  “No, of course not. It would be sad to go through life afraid of birds, don’t you think?”

  “I’m sure plenty of people do,” he told her. “Bridey thought that they were a foretelling of something.”

  “Maybe she’s right,” Caer said, and he realized that she was studying him closely. “I mean, we all go through life believing in what we see and feel, but most of us have some kind of faith, as well.”

  “So you think that a bunch of birds flying around last night means something?” he asked, and he couldn’t help sounding slightly amused.

  She hesitated. “Don’t you sometimes believe in something that you can’t see or feel? Don’t you adhere to some kind of faith?”

  “Are you asking me if I believe in God? Yes, I do. Probably a legacy of my Irish mother,” he told her.

  He was surprised that she seemed to be watching him with such intent passion in her beautiful blue eyes. “If you believe in God, then why not believe in ghosts, in miracles, and even in the devil?” she asked quietly.

  “Because I believe that God expects us to go through life with common sense. And common sense says birds are just birds,” he told her flatly.

  She laughed suddenly.

  “What?” he demanded.

  “All right, granted I haven’t seen much of Cow Cay and it’s not a large island. But you’re just going to buy two shovels and in the course of this afternoon we’re going to solve a centuries-old mystery?”

  “I’d say you’re forgetting the birds,” he said, “but I didn’t fully explain.”

  “So please do.”

  “There’s a border around the chart with pictures of various landmarks in the area. One of them is rather interestingly named.”

  “What is it?”

  “Banshee Rock.”

  “What?”

  “Banshee Rock. It’s an outcrop of granite that just happens to sit on—”

  “Cow Cay?”

  “You guessed it, gorgeous,” he said lightly.

  She blushed, and he found himself wishing desperately that they weren’t going out looking for buried treasure, that they were heading out to a remote ski cabin that boasted a whirlpool and a fireplace, where they could sit and bask in the glow of the fire, and make love without inhibitions.

  He returned his attention to the matter at hand and drove into the parking lot of the little strip mall where he could purchase what they would need.

  He hadn’t come to a major chain store but a smaller, mom-and-pop place run by Slim and Sally Jenkins, a couple he had gotten to know during his trips up this way as a kid.

  He sent Caer to look for the shovels while he went to get a pick and a couple sieves to sift the sand. Even having a fair idea of what Eddie had been up to, he knew they would be looking for a needle in a haystack.

  He recognized the young man behind the counter as Slim’s son.

  “Hey, Jorey, how are you?”

  “I’m fine—going to college down in New York now. How are you? Haven’t seen you in a long time.” He looked at Zach with a sad expression then. “I know you’re close to the O’Rileys. Will you tell them I’m really sorry about Eddie? I don’t know what he was thinking, taking out that weird dude.”

  “You saw him?” Zach asked, startled.

  “I saw Eddie at the coffee shop that day.” Jorey went pale. “Wow, the way you’re looking at me…is something wrong with that?”

  “No, no, it’s just—you never said anything to the cops?”

  “No. I—I guess I should’ve, huh? I only got a glimpse of the guy when I was buying coffee for the drive back to New York, so I never really thought about it. I saw Eddie meet the guy after he left the coffee shop. I’d never recognize him. He was wearing a heavy coat and carrying a duffel bag. And he had on a hat, like a fedora. Who the hell wears a fedora on a boat? Have I done something wrong?”

  “No, of course not. I was just curious. The cops have been asking for any kind of help, though, so you ought to give them a call.”

  “I will. I’m really sorry—I wouldn’t keep back information on purpose.”

  “Jorey, do you think the bag was big enough to hold scuba gear?”

  Jorey’s eyes widened. “Yeah, maybe. It was a big bag. The dude was kinda short, too. The bag seemed heavy for him.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “I didn’t really see his face. The hat was pulled down, and he had a big ugly mustache.”

  Caer returned with the shovels just then and Jorey looked at her, then kept looking.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi,” she returned pleasantly.

  “Can I help you?” Jorey asked.

  “We’re together,” Caer told Jorey, indicating Zach.

  “Irish?” Jorey asked her, still staring and smiling. Smitten.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Jorey, is there anything else you can tell me?” Zach asked.

  “What?” Jorey sounded as if he’d completely forgotten Zach existed, then collected himself.

  “Oh, yeah. Let me think….” After a minute, he said, “He was out of place, know what I mean? Eddie was making fun of him in the coffee shop, asking who the hell went around with that much cash these days. Oh, and Eddie said he’d insisted on the Sea Maiden.” He paused. “You think this guy killed him, huh?”

  Zach nodded grimly.

  “I wish I had paid more attention,” Jorey said. “Tried to stop him, even.”

  “Hey, you didn’t know,” Zach reassured him. “Eddie was a grown man, I doubt if you could have talked him out of taking a paying customer.”

  “I guess not.”

  Zach scribbled down Detective Morrissey’s phone number. “Give this guy a call. He’s a good cop, and he may think of a question I haven’t. But, listen, I need a few more things, and you know what? If anyone wants to know, you never saw me today, okay?”

  “Anything you say,” Jorey said, but he was looking at Caer again, grinning foolishly.

  In no time, they were ready to go, with their shovels, sieves, a pick and two metal detectors, and a canvas duffel to carry everything in.

  When t
hey reached the dockside office, Zach pointed out the Sea Sprite, a small, one-masted boat with a powerful motor and shallow draft. “I need you to go inside, and if Cal and Marni are both in there, give me a wave, then keep them occupied for a few minutes.”

  She stared at him as if she thought he was nuts for playing at being James Bond.

  “Caer, please, we have no idea just who might be involved in all this.”

  “What do I say to them?”

  “Ask Marni if she’s all right after the incident with the pie yesterday.”

  Caer nodded.

  A few moments later, she opened the door and waved to him, then stepped back inside. He hauled his bag onto the little boat, checked the gas gauge and looked her over, then headed for the office.

  “Morning, Zach,” Cal greeted him. “Did you see the paper this morning?”

  “Actually, no. Sean was reading it when we left.”

  “They’re recalling those blueberries,” Cal said grimly. “There was a big article on how they think some psycho is out there, maybe some ex-employee with a grudge.”

  “I’m glad they got right on it,” Marni said. “They can make sure no one else winds up with a mouthful of glass.”

  “Are you absolutely sure you’re all right?” Caer asked her with concern.

  “Oh, I’m fine. Honestly,” Marni said.

  “We could have sued,” Cal said indignantly.

  “And what would that have done? We’re far too litigious in this country,” Marni said firmly, shaking her head. “And I’m just fine.” She lowered her voice, though they were the only ones there. “It’s such a relief to know that some stranger did this, and that it wasn’t someone in the house. You know what I mean. It was awful, Amanda accusing poor Clara, on top of Kat being so certain Amanda has it in for Sean.” Marni dropped her voice even further. “Although who can blame her? Let’s face it, we all think the woman is a total bitch.”

  “Sean loves her,” Cal reminded his wife. “And who knows? Maybe she loves him, too. Who the hell are we to judge? Not to mention that it’s pretty insulting to him to think there’s no way Amanda is actually in love with him. Did that make sense?”

  “It did,” Marni said, looking at her husband affectionately. “It’s just that she and I are about the same age, and I look at Sean like a father figure.”

  “Well, I’m going to show Caer around some more,” Zach interrupted. “See you folks later.”

  “Any action on the wharf?” Marni said. “I get restless when we’re not busy.”

  “I saw some people walking around checking things out,” Zach told her, but it was a lie. He didn’t want either Cal or Marni out on the water, not until he and Caer were long gone.

  Cal led the way to the door, with Marni following close behind them. Zach was anxious to get going, but Cal opened the office door and stepped outside, then gasped sharply.

  “What is it?” Marni demanded, pushing past Zach and Caer to reach her husband.

  It was a bird. A dead bird—and a huge one.

  Not a blackbird. Not a crow.

  A raven.

  It was lying on its back directly in front of the door, talons curled in, sightless eyes wide open.

  Marni let out a frightened scream.

  Cal put his arm around her and pulled her close. “Marni, it’s just a bird. A very big, very dead bird.”

  “What the hell was it doing, dying right in front of the office door?” she demanded. “Oh, God, it’s a bad omen. Something awful’s going to happen.”

  Zach stepped forward, ignoring her, and said firmly, “You got a garbage bag in there? I’ll pick up the poor thing and set it aside. You can call someone to pick it up.”

  “We can just feed it to the fish,” Cal said.

  “I wouldn’t,” Caer said quickly. They all turned to stare at her. “What if it died because something was wrong with it, because it was sick? Maybe animal control ought to incinerate it or something.”

  “She is a nurse,” Marni said. “And it’s a good point. But get it away from me.”

  With a shudder, she hurried back into the office, where she got a large garbage bag. Cal and Zach bagged up the bird together, and then Cal laid it by the Dumpster, saying that he would call animal control.

  At last Zach and Caer waved goodbye to him and headed to the Sea Sprite.

  “Hop on,” Zach said, loosening the mooring ropes after she stepped lithely to the deck, then boarding himself. As he took a seat at the helm and turned on the motor, he told her that she would find both the galley and the head in the small cabin.

  “Thanks, but I love being up here.”

  He smiled as he steered the boat through the channel markers slowly, then opened up the throttle until they were whipping over the water. The air was cold, and the wind was stinging, but he saw that Caer didn’t flinch; indeed, she seemed to love the feel of it. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself as she sat across from him, staring out at the water and the passing scenery.

  Newport was beautiful from the bay. The rocks jutted dramatically, the lighthouse was a piece of bygone charm, and mansions stood sentinel on the cliff. The bridge connecting the city to the mainland rose so high above the waves that the cars crossing it looked like toys.

  When they reached Cow Cay, Zach anchored just offshore and found a couple of pairs of waders. Caer stared at him. “We’re walking? In those?” she asked incredulously.

  “It’s only a few feet, but it’s worth it to stay dry. Trust me—it’s not deep. You’ll be all right.”

  She didn’t look as if she trusted him one little bit, but as he set about zipping himself into the waders, she followed suit. After carefully lowering himself into the water, he reached up to help her. She was skeptical, but she carefully dropped into his embrace.

  She smelled sweet—but not too sweet—from some elusive perfume, and no amount of clothing could impede his instinctive response when he felt the vivid crush of her body against his own. He held her close, grinning, as he let her slide slowly down until her feet touched bottom. “It is a deserted island,” he said teasingly.

  “And it’s freezing,” she told him primly.

  “You’re not much of a romantic,” he said, mock accusingly, then reached for the bag of tools he had left on deck.

  “Walk carefully. You don’t want to get a dunking.”

  She nodded, preceding him through the shallow water to the shore.

  “It’s great out here in summer,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “Well, if you ask me, the water is still freezing, but it’s bearable. Northerners love it. You’re Irish. You would like swimming here.”

  She looked at him as if she didn’t have any idea what he was talking about.

  “Are you telling me you’ve never been swimming?” he asked her.

  “Actually…no. I mean yes. I mean, I haven’t.”

  “You need to learn to swim. And then to dive. Being underwater…it’s another world.” He heard his voice growing husky as he added, “I have to take you south. Home, or to the Caribbean. You can’t imagine what it’s like to dive the reefs. The colors of the fish, the coral…it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

  “I’m sure it is,” she agreed, suddenly cool, then asked, “So where is this Banshee Rock?”

  He pointed. “Right there.”

  He passed her and strode over to the rock. It was an oddly shaped piece of granite, standing by itself as if placed by a giant hand. It stood about ten feet high and four feet wide at the base.

  “We’ll be systematic,” he said. If she was going to be all business, so would he.

  Opening the canvas bag, he took out the metal detectors, pick and shovels. “We could get lucky and find it immediately, but I have a feeling it’s not going to be so easy.” She watched as he walked around the rock, trying to figure if there was a spot where it looked as if someone might have dug centuries before. It took a while, as he kept circling with the metal detecto
r. Caer watched him, then started using her own.

  At one point she cried out with pleasure and dropped down to her knees in the sand. “I found something!”

  He hurried over and started to dig. A moment later, he held up a spoon.

  “I don’t suppose it’s an antique?” Caer asked hopefully.

  “Sorry—it was swiped from a local fish place,” he said, showing her the engraving on the handle. “But now we know your metal detector works. We’ll find more.”

  “There might not be anything to find,” she said glumly. “Nothing that matters, anyway.”

  “There is. I know there is.”

  He went back to searching, and a few minutes later he paused, standing dead still and staring. But not at the rock itself. His vision was focused on a spot twenty feet away, toward the shore, where he suddenly realized that someone else had been digging.

  “Look,” he said, striding toward the area. As he got closer, he could see that there were a number of places where someone had been busy with a shovel.

  Zach used the metal detector to systematically search the sand. Caer started working nearby, emulating the grid pattern he was walking.

  There wasn’t a sound from either of their instruments.

  “Maybe, if there was something, it’s been found,” she suggested.

  He shook his head. “We’d know.”

  “How?”

  “Because something would be different,” he said, turning back to stare at her. “Something in the O’Riley household would be different. Whoever killed Eddie would…well, they wouldn’t be a part of the household anymore.”

  She walked over to him. “Maybe a stranger killed Eddie. Isn’t that what we’re all hoping? Maybe Sean getting sick was just coincidence.”

  She was staring at him earnestly, as if wanting could make it so.

  He sighed. “We don’t know anything. Except that someone else is looking for whatever Nigel Bridgewater might have buried. Let’s get to it, shall we? We’ll start over by the rock where we got a couple of potential readings.”

  “Maybe there’s nothing there except for some kind of tarp protecting the documents he was delivering. Maybe there’s no metal to find,” Caer said.

  “I’m willing to bet there are coins.”