“Well, because he and his family have had them in their possession for so long, they do belong to him but…they were originally stolen.”
I knew that if you find anything on your land, then it’s yours, no matter what. Of course, this new treasure was found on public land, so that could be a problem.
He added, “I’m working with our legal department concerning all the parties involved with the items recovered at the mill site.”
“Well, I trust your judgment. You’ve been great so far.” I still couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that there was even a question as to who owned what.
He stood to leave. “Mrs. Caldwell, here are some papers explaining the events that have occurred. I would like you to read them over. There’s a place for you to add anything else you feel is important at the end. Then I need you to sign them.”
The stack of papers could fill a small binder. “I hope I’ll have time to finish reading them before my surgery next week.”
“I would appreciate your quick response in this matter.” He started to close up his briefcase. “Call me when you’ve signed them, and I’ll send someone to pick them up.”
I took the papers and placed them on my desk. He took a step to leave.
“Wait,” I said. “What about the money that was in the backpack? And who were those two guys?”
He turned around. “The money was drug related, so it will be forfeited back to the local police department.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Gerard Simpkins, or as you heard him being referred to as ‘The General,’ was part of a drug network here on the Cape a few years ago. He evidently buried his profits up there on the conservation lands before he was captured. He did some time but not for long; they only had circumstantial evidence against him.”
“Who was the young kid? And is he going to be okay?” I was curious about poor Silas.
“Simpkins and the kid’s father were cellmates in prison. That was their connection. The kid, Silas Maroney, was Simpkin’s driver.” He started for the door again. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He took out a small pouch from his jacket pocket. “Do you recognize this?” he opened the bag and out poured the pieces of eight.
“They’re mine. Where did you find them?”
“In Maroney’s pocket, at the hospital.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Right before all of this happened, we took the family to a movie one night and forgot to lock the door. We suspected someone had entered our house but nothing seemed to be missing at the time. Now it all makes sense.”
The last thing Agent Clark said to me was, “Mrs. Caldwell, you really should be more careful.”
I held the oddly cut coins in my fingers and then spotted the cracked blue teapot on my bookshelf. I stared at its beauty and wondered how many miles it had travelled and how many people had touched it over the centuries. I got up and moved closer to the relic. With my good hand, I removed the lid and placed the pieces of eight inside its rounded body.
“Hide these for me,” I whispered. “I know you can keep a secret.”
EPILOGUE
Five Months Later
THEY SAY THAT a good man finishes last…but maybe not always.
In my journal, I wrote:
Quentin Selucci, the bad guy, was never found guilty of murdering the young Peace Corps volunteer he had impersonated. But they did get him on several counts of manslaughter from previous crimes, so he received a minimum of 20 years. More charges are being discovered against him as I write this.
Did the good guy win? I think so. When John and Angel Julian graciously gave up the rights to their family earrings, and I relinquished my good luck antique necklace, everything fell into place. The queen’s jewels were going to be returned to the Spanish government as a matched set. After several meetings behind closed doors with a judge, the treasure was equitably divided up between John Julian and Tommy D. I had decided that because there were two maps and two owners, Tommy D was entitled to a share; after all, his map was the one clue that actually led me to the mill site. Details about the young man searching for his past were added to my signed papers.
I can only wonder and guess at the changes that are about to happen to these two men, who, at one time, were thousands of miles apart and now are so close. And what a surprise I had when I was awarded a finder’s fee in the tens of thousands.
Spring breezes filled my office with the heady scent of lily-of-the-valley that was in full bloom under the bay window. I contemplated my life; here I was, in the middle of May, with Brian returned to the states and living at home while he planned his future. My physical therapy for my new shoulder was almost over and I was feeling pretty good.
Brian walked into the office. “Mom, did you see the news feed on the internet?”
“No. What’s going on?” I closed my journal, wiggled the mouse and woke up the computer screen.
Brian pointed to the headlines about Antigua that popped up across the screen. “Look! It’s John Julian with Tommy D.”
The image almost made me cry with joy. John Julian was shaking hands with Tommy D, except the caption said that his name was Thomas D. Chandler. His hair was cut short and he was wearing a nice white sport coat, light blue dress shirt, and jeans.
The headline read: Cape Cod Man Opens New Youth Center!
I looked at Brian. “I’m so proud of that kid.”
“Isn’t it great? It says the two men have formed a philanthropic partnership for the benefit of troubled youth in the West Indies. They’re going to help the local island kids through a program using video games and interaction with the community.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
The story went on to report that “Thomas D. Chandler left Cape Cod to permanently make his home in the West Indies, so he can be close to his work.” I was speechless.
Brian leaned over my shoulder. “Mom, you did it again.” Then he stood by my side and faced me. “Ever wonder where I got my perseverance and determination? My will to push on where all else fails?”
I smiled and with a wink, I said, “Mmmm…I wonder.”
“Gotta go, Mom. I’m meeting some friends for lunch. Talk later.”
And with that he was gone.
I watched his car pull away then continued in my journal:
Since Brian’s return to the states and his official termination as Peace Corps, he’s decided he wants to take a few months off to rest before he ventures off again. First up might be a Master’s degree in Public Health, and then he thinks he’ll be off to Alaska, the Last Great Frontier, to follow his dreams.
Jim, our wanderer, has been going from job to job since college. Now, after finally opening and closing a small bistro here in Brewster, he’s decided to try his talent in Hollywood. He’s not sure if he wants to be behind or in front of the camera. He’s been in LA for the last few months. I’ll be flying out to visit him in a few days…some quality mother-and-son time.
Casey will be entering her first year of college and is very involved with the theatre arts. Molly and Danny are simply growing up too fast.
By nine o’clock, I was tired. Bedtime couldn’t come soon enough. My flight to California was fast approaching. I could feel an ache starting to creep into my shoulder from too much packing. Almost finished, I pushed my suitcase to the side of the dresser for tomorrow’s final items.
I walked into the living room. Paul looked over to me from the couch. “Almost done?”
“I think so.”
He patted his hand on the sofa next to his side. “Come here. Let me rub your feet.”
I willingly surrendered to the soft cushions and his gentle touch as he massaged my tired feet. I could feel myself dozing off.
Paul stopped his hands. “I hope, this time, you’re finally going to get an uneventful vacation with our son.”
Even with my eyes closed, I could sense a slight tease in his voice. I just smiled, remembering what had happened when I visited Brian o
n Antigua.
He covered my legs with a fleece blanket.
“Don’t stop. It feels so good,” I begged him.
He continued without hesitation. “Nancy, I’m serious, don’t you think you’ve had enough adventure? I don’t want to lose you. I love you.”
“Don’t worry.” I sat up next to Paul and snuggled with him under the blanket. “All I want to do is roam the beaches, visit with Jim, and just relax.”
“Great idea, but don’t pressure him to do too many things if he’s busy.”
“I promise. I’m going to LA with no expectations. If Jim has to work, I’ll take in the Hollywood sights by myself and just have some fun. After all, it’s only Jim and me, what could possibly happen?”
The End
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Following your dream is never easy but with the help and encouragement of family and friends it becomes less maddening.
So, I would like to first thank my husband, Timothy, and all my children and their spouses, especially my son Tim, who gave me the inspiration to write about a Peace Corps experience.
Next in line for thanks are my two writing groups.
The Monday, Tuesday Group That Meets On Friday: Anita, Joan, Barbara#1, Yvonne, Jerri, Pat, Nikole, Iris, and Carol. They’ve been listening to my words for over eight years and still keep coming back for more.
Writers In Common: Katrina, Jason, Debbie, Diane, Barbara K, Greg, and Susan always catch what the Monday, Tuesday…group misses. Between the two groups there is quite a unique set of talents for critique.
My early readers were astute in their evaluations of the manuscript: Barbara#1, Pat M., Maryanne, Jennifer F, Charlotte, and my daughter Heather.
My editor, Nicola Burnell, who always had the kindness and foresight to argue with me about getting rid of my favorite words, all for the flow and success of my writing.
I can’t forget Michael Farber, who led an eager group of explorers, including me, looking for the cornerstones of Cape Cod.
And without the expert advice on weaponry from my son–in-law Eric, the bad guys wouldn’t have been so nasty.
Finally a big thank you to my wonderful publisher, Booktrope, a company that is there when you need help and expertise within the crazy world of books.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
When the author and her husband Tim, a professional artist, turned forty in the late 1980s, they moved from Ohio with their three teenagers to an old 1880 house in Brewster on Cape Cod. The Cape’s history and brilliant natural light drew them in; this was a place where Tim would paint and Barbara could write.
A storyteller at heart, Barbara’s imagination took flight after she unearthed a mysterious pattern of red bricks under ten inches of soil behind her barn and found a beautiful blue-flowered pottery shard on the tidal flats of Brewster. She conjured up a connection to an old Cape legend about Maria Hallett and her pirate lover Sam Bellamy, captain of the wrecked ship The Whydah.
These unanticipated events catapulted Barbara onto a journey that led to the writing of a series of old Cape stories featuring contemporary character Nancy Caldwell.
She is currently a Member in Letters of the National League of American Pen Women and belongs to two writing groups. She also is a contributing writer to Primetime Magazine. Always a journal writer, she is fascinated by history and writes a blog about the unique facts and myths of Cape Cod.
ALSO BY BARBARA STRUNA
The Old Cape House (Historical Fiction) Contemporary Nancy Caldwell relocates to an old house on Cape Cod with her husband and four children. In her backyard, she finds an old root cellar and at its bottom is evidence that links her land to the 18th century legend of Maria Hallett. As you follow the lives of these two women, a Cape Cod secret, hidden for 300 years, is uncovered.
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