The General heard the crack. He stopped rifling through the bag and cocked his head to listen, his hands curled around a bundle of cash. He sat motionless until his attention was diverted to a gold coin in the dirt next to the woman’s side pocket. Shoving the cash back into the bag, he reached for the yellowed object. Then with one hand holding the coin and the other gripping the strap of the backpack, he tried to push himself up to stand. He fell backwards. Next he rolled over and balanced on his knees in another attempt to get up, but with no luck. He did manage to lift his head, only to see a stranger looking down on him.
“What’re you doing, buddy?” Nick came closer to the old man who was on all fours now. Nick reached for an elbow. “Let me help you.”
The General swatted at the intruder who was interfering with his plans. “I don’t need no help.”
“You sure?” Nick grabbed at the half-open backpack and spotted the cash inside.
The old man wouldn’t let go of it. “Don’t touch that. It’s mine!”
Nick raised his hands in mock submission. “Take it easy, I just want to help you out.” He watched the leather coated geezer eventually stand. Peering beyond him, Nick recognized one of the bodies as Mrs. C. “What’d you do, old man?”
The General clutched the backpack against his chest and turned to get away. Nick knelt down next to Mrs. C. He felt her neck and found a pulse, then he awkwardly reached behind her to unfasten the antique necklace. The clasp wouldn’t open. He fiddled with it for a few seconds before it came free. He shoved it into his coat pocket.
By this time, the General had already started to walk up the slope of the embankment to head out of the woods with his found money.
“Hey, where you going?” Nick yelled out as he hustled after him.
Just as the General reached the high point of the hole, he fumbled for his gun under his coat. Nick took the opportunity to land a solid right onto the old man’s chin, sending him to the ground…out cold.
Nick picked up the bag filled with money and checked the old man’s pockets for anything else that looked interesting. He found a gold coin, a bottle of heart pills, and the Smith & Wesson. He took the gold coin plus the backpack and continued up the path to the old mill site, a sinister grin now darkening his face.
43
Present Day
ORLEANS – CAPE COD
MY EYES SLOWLY OPENED to see gray sky. For a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was. I turned my head slightly to the left, then right and up a little…nothing but dried oak leaves and dirt. My left hand lay listless by my side. Lifting my right hand, I rested it across my stomach then wiggled my feet up and down. I could feel my legs…a good sign. My body started shivering and shaking as shock took over.
I remembered the old man who’d pushed me down. Where’s my phone? Shit! He’d knocked it away from me. I turned my head to the right and gasped when I realized there was a body lying beside me. It was the creepy guy who’d been with the old man. His eyes were closed. Was he dead? Oh, dear God, what have I gotten myself into this time? I looked above me, through the tree branches, where a bird flew across the sky. I had to get out of here.
My body didn’t listen as I tried to sit upright. Each time I thrust forward, I fell back in pain. Maybe I could roll to the side and get up on my elbow; that might work. I took some deep breaths then slowly raised my upper body onto my right elbow and forearm. Everything started spinning. Rolling backwards, I tried to breathe. I felt sick to my stomach. After a few seconds, I rolled over again and managed to stay put, but as my injured left shoulder sagged, its weight pulled my left side closer to the ground. It felt like someone was yanking my arm right out of its socket. I thought I would pass out from the pain. Trying to hold still, I didn’t know how long I could stay on my side. It hurt too much to breathe deeply, but my lungs were screaming for air. An aching pain began to crawl up the side of my neck. I rolled onto my back again.
Dizzy as I was, I coached myself to keep going. It was almost more than I could bear but I was determined to get up. I unzipped my jacket and put my wrist inside of the opening. It acted like a sling and enabled me to try again. Finally once on my side, I pressed my cheek against the ground, then my forehead, turning, pushing, and trying to maneuver myself up so I could sit back onto my legs. With my arm stabilized, the pain subsided long enough for me to think a little. I must stand up, I told myself. The stone walls that surrounded me seemed insurmountable, but maybe they could offer leverage to help me get off my knees. But first I had to roll flat again. I hit the ground with a cry of pain then caught sight of the guy opposite me. He was still not moving.
Moving my upper body closer to him, I gripped my jacket tighter and wiggled my torso nearer to his side. After a deep breath, I was able to roll over just enough so that I could lay my good forearm across his chest to reach the wall. It was agony. I stretched as far as I could for any stone that stuck out from the rest. He groaned a little and I noticed a small amount of blood by the zipper of his jacket.
My fingertips finally found a grip across one of the stone edges. With all my strength, I started lifting and pulling my body up to a sitting position, keeping a hold of the gritty surface. Wet sand crumbled as I clawed up the gray bumps, trying to gain some more height. It felt as if my fingers would break away from my hand. I felt two fingernails split under the pressure but my body was finally rising up. Don’t stop…keep going…pull up! I was able to place a knee on the guy’s upper thigh. This gave me a chance to get my other knee closer so I could stand up. Another groan came from the still body.
Once upright, I peered over the old wall; my head almost level with the ground. I’m going to be okay, I assured myself, only to come face-to-face with the old man, who was lying on his stomach. His eye patch had flipped to one side, revealing a large mottled scar that should have been an eye. I recoiled at the horrifying image. The position of his body gave the impression that he was sleeping. His arm was oddly stretched out beyond his head across the forest floor, as if he was pointing to something.
I heard my cell phone ring to the tune of Pirates of the Caribbean. But where was it? I couldn’t see it anywhere. Just as I took a step to start walking out and away from the old walls, I felt something latch onto my foot. I panicked and almost fell over, but grabbed onto the wall again. Turning, I realized the guy on the ground was holding my ankle.
He pleaded with me, “Lady, don’t go. My name is Silas. Please, help me.”
“Let go!” I screamed back at him, shaking my foot with enough force that his hand broke loose and he fell back to the ground.
He moaned as he closed his eyes. “The General shot me.”
“The General?” Who’s he talking about? I looked down at the scared kid, “I’ll get some help, I promise.” Why the hell did I tell him that?
The old man was still laying on the edge of the hole with his face towards me. He looked like he wouldn’t be doing any more harm to me, but I certainly couldn’t be sure. I decided to come back and help Silas later, but right now I need to save myself.
I was able to regain enough strength to slowly walk to where the ground was level and lift my feet over the rock foundation. My shoulder hurt like hell, but I continued up the embankment and past the old man’s body in search for my phone. It was too painful to bend over, so I kicked my foot around, trying to uncover it. I heard it go off again. I listened for it, but still couldn’t locate it.
I glanced around the woods to get my bearings and to see if anyone else was nearby. There was a body on the ground and a body in the old cellar. What a predicament! I wasn’t sure what to do.
The sound of a shovel slicing into dirt caught my ear. I didn’t have to walk very far before I saw someone digging near the old mill site. I shuffled towards the hunched-over figure. He heard my approach and looked over his shoulder. It was Nick! But I thought he’d left the Cape already.
“Nick! Is that you?” I tried to walk a little faster to get to him but my breathing became labored
and I had to stop. The pain in my shoulder was returning with a vengeance and I could feel my strength growing weaker by the second. The surprise of a familiar face lowered my defenses and everything began to move in slow motion. My eyes wanted to close. I felt faint. No! I’ll be okay, I thought, now that I know Nick is here. He’ll help me.
Nick stood up and came towards me. “Mrs. C, you all right?”
His arm was strong around my waist as he helped me over to a large boulder. I couldn’t even talk. I just wanted to sit down. When my hurt arm finally rested across my lap it actually felt comfortable.
I looked up at Nick. “What are you doing here?” My eyes moved away from him for a second so that I could settle my bottom to a flatter part of the boulder’s hard surface. “I thought you left the Cape.”
Nick picked up a trowel. “I was on my way over the bridge when I got a call from the Corps. My assignment was delayed again.” He knelt down and continued digging. “I decided to hang around a bit; take in some of the sights.”
Questions flew into my head, but every time I moved, even slightly, the pain shot up into my neck and clouded my reasoning. I asked again, “But what are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer. I could see the W stone was moved to the side and he was digging deeper than I had gone. I began to feel uneasy about his coincidental presence in the woods and the fact that he was digging under the W stone.
“Nick?”
He slowly met my eyes with a look that sent a chill up my back. “Look, you bitch, just sit there and shut up!”
44
Present Day
BREWSTER/ORLEANS
PAUL HUNG UP the phone and threw the client’s information into the trash bin. “Boy, that’s disappointing.” He started to leave but stopped to massage the back of his neck and think a minute. Leaning over to retrieve the paper from the trash, he smoothed it out on his drawing table then placed it in the file labeled ‘potential sales’.
The wall clock hadn’t reached 10:00 AM so there was still time for him to join Nancy up at the mill site. He grabbed his phone, pressed Nancy’s number and waited for her to answer. He slid it back into his pants pocket when she didn’t pick up. Once inside the house, a quick peek at her desktop revealed notes as to where the site was located. Paul jotted the directions down and signaled to Martha, “I’ll be back in a few hours.” He went to get his camera in the studio.
“Okay, Paul. No problem.” She glanced up from emptying the dishwasher to look out the kitchen window. A black sedan slowly pulled into the driveway. “Someone’s here,” she called out before he was able to close the door leading to the gallery.
Paul turned around and headed back to the glassed foyer door. He saw two men dressed in black suits get out of the car then walk toward the deck that led to the house, avoiding the path to the gallery. He noticed the closed sign was still out and visible from the street. He opened the door with caution before they could knock on it. “What can I do for you?”
A man with a crew cut asked, “Mr. Caldwell?”
“Yes?”
“We’re from the FBI. I’m Special Agent Clark.” He showed his ID card with badge.
Paul stood taller and stepped back but kept his hand on the door’s handle, holding it open only half way.
“Is Mrs. Caldwell available?”
“No….” Paul’s face paled. “What’s wrong?”
“We have reason to believe that your wife may be in danger. May we come in?”
Paul swallowed hard before he let them in.
As they crossed the threshold, Martha peered out of the kitchen to stare at the two strangers. Paul looked visibly upset. His chest heaved up and down in short panicked breaths.
The agent with glasses asked, “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
“Of course.” Paul led them into Nancy’s office.
Martha met her employer’s wide eyes with a questioning glance as he passed her. He ignored them and ordered her, “Stay in the kitchen, Martha.”
With only a few long strides, he reached the parlor door in seconds. The agents followed him in, and Paul slid the pocket door closed behind the three of them.
Agent Clark located a picture on his cell phone and showed it to Paul. “Do you recognize this man?”
“That looks like Nick,” Paul said with alarm in his voice, “but with the black hair, I can’t really tell if it’s him or not.” He kept studying the image. “What does he have to do with the FBI and with us?”
Clark tapped his phone closed and looked to his partner. “So that’s what he’s calling himself this time…Nick!”
Paul grew anxious, his voice rising. “What do you mean ‘this time’?” He clasped his hand over his mouth, trying to calm himself.
“Take it easy, Mr. Caldwell. We’re aware that he’s used several names over his young career, but his legal name is Quinten Sulicci. A known associate of the New England Mafia, he turned rogue and has been working on his own for a few years now.”
“What?” Paul looked startled then angry. “Tell me what’s going on…now!”
“Where was your wife going this morning?”
“Orleans. I was supposed to go with her but couldn’t.” He pulled the paper with the directions to the mill site out of his jeans pocket and handed it over. “This might help you find her. What kind of danger is she in?” He pulled his phone out and pressed in Nancy’s number again. He looked over to Clark. “I tried to call her before, but she didn’t pick up.” Paul’s hand was shaking as he shut the phone down and shoved it back into his pocket. “She’s still not answering!”
Clark checked his watch. “We don’t have a lot of time to explain any more to you right now. We’re meeting Lieutenant Gale over at the Orleans police station in about twenty minutes.”
“Well, if it involves my wife, I’m coming with you.” He stood in front of the closed door in a feeble attempt to prevent the men from leaving the office if they wouldn’t agree to his tagging along. “You can’t stop me from following you in my own car.”
The two FBI men took a stance, shoulder-to-shoulder, legs spread in anticipation for some trouble. “I’m afraid you need to stay here, Mr. Caldwell.”
There was a two second standoff before Paul slid open the pocket door, stepped aside for them to leave. He followed right behind them through the house, past Martha in the kitchen. They went out the main door without him. He stayed inside and watched the men get into their car and drive away. With a quick twist of his head, he gave Martha another order. “Stay here and wait for the kids to get home. I’ll call you with any news as soon as I know myself.”
“But…?”
“Just stay close to the phone and keep the doors locked.” He slammed the door shut behind him.
The Orleans Police station was not far from the Caldwell house. He knew a short cut and arrived at the station within minutes. Once inside, he found the FBI men standing in the entranceway, talking with a policeman.
“Mr. Caldwell, I thought we asked you to stay home,” said Agent Clark.
Paul looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, you did, but I need to know what’s happening with my wife.” He stood defiant, waiting.
The policeman stepped between the FBI men and came closer to him. He put his face a few inches from Paul’s nose. “Mr. Caldwell? I know you’re worried about your wife, but you need to let us do our job. Understand?”
Paul stood his ground.
“If you’d sit down for a minute, we’ll be able to assess the facts that we do know and then get back to you.”
“Not good enough.”
Lieutenant Gale spun around. “What’d you say?” He placed one hand on his holstered gun and the other on his leather belt.
“Don’t worry,” Paul said with resignation as he backed up onto the bench and sat down. “I’ll stay put.”
The three men looked at each other then disappeared behind the closed door.
Within seconds Paul got up and left.
Once across the road, he looked for the twisted trees. According to Nancy’s notes, they marked the entrance to the path. With the marker in sight, he headed for the hidden opening. Rain started to drizzle, dampening the leaves and forest floor.
45
Present Day
ORLEANS – CAPE COD
AS A CHILD, if I was in a nightmare, I could just stop, turn away from whomever or whatever was chasing me, place my forearm over my eyes and escape. It always worked. I wanted to do that now, but I couldn’t lift my arm and I wasn’t dreaming. I felt sick. Rain began to drip onto my jacket from the trees above my head. I wondered if I was going to die.
Nick never lifted his face to look at me as he continued digging. I wanted to know why he was here in the woods, but I didn’t want to make him angry, so I kept quiet.
He must be after the treasure. If I could keep him talking maybe someone will walk by and see us. I took a chance and whispered, “Nick…what are you looking for?” I remembered we’d talked about finding something valuable, based on the old map, when we came up here together. I never expected he would turn on me like this and steal whatever was buried. I kept watching his hands as they sifted through the gold coins and pieces of eight that were slowly being uncovered. God, what a find! These artifacts have not seen daylight for hundreds of years. As much as my arm hurt, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the strange scene unfolding before me. “Nick?”
Paying no attention to me, he stopped digging. Then he picked up a thin, narrow object that resembled a dagger, or letter opener. I squinted to focus better. It looked like a hairpin. The decoration on top of it also resembled the design on my necklace. I went to touch the good luck charm around my neck. It was gone. I looked to my left, where the old man was lying. I must have lost it somewhere in the leaves when he pushed me.
The Old Cape Teapot Page 21