A Treacherous Treasure

by Leighann Dobbs

  Claire made a big show about glancing around the room. Dom knew the identity of the victim would get out once Zambuco started asking questions, but he figured Claire didn’t want to get Robby into trouble if people started finding out before Zambuco let the cat out of the bag. Claire leaned across the table toward Velma and Hazel. “Do you swear not to tell anyone?”

  Their eyes sparkled with eager anticipation, and they straightened in their seats. “We do,” they said at the same time.

  “It was Elbert Daniels.”

  Hazel gasped. Velma’s hand flew up to her chest. “Elbert Daniels? But he was lost at sea.”

  “Apparently not.” Claire stabbed her fork into a chunk of pear.

  Velma and Hazel turned to Dom, who was busy working on his meatball sandwich. “Is it true? Why would someone put Elbert into a pirate chest?”

  “They wanted to hide the body. Whoever it was must have set his boat adrift, knowing it would appear as if he’d been lost at sea.”

  “Premeditated murder,” Hazel whispered.

  “But who would want to murder Elbert? Why, he didn’t have an enemy in the world,” Velma added.

  Dom shrugged. “He must’ve had at least one. Do either of you know who that might have been?”

  They shook their heads. “No. But that does explain something that always bothered me.”

  “What’s that?” Claire asked.

  “Elbert was an expert sailor. I never could figure out how he would’ve been lost at sea or why he would’ve even taken his boat out in that storm in the first place. It didn’t make any sense.” Velma’s eyes had a faraway look as she glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the ocean.

  “That’s right.” Hazel nodded. “Why, I remember Liz harassing the police to look harder. She knew Elbert would’ve never just fallen overboard.”

  “Liz?” Dom asked.

  “His wife … widow,” Hazel answered.

  “Well, I guess Elbert finally found the treasure he was always looking for,” Velma said.

  “A lot of good it did him—he wound up inside the chest!” Hazel added.

  Velma’s eyes darkened. “You don’t think someone in the treasure-hunting club did it, do you?”

  “Treasure-hunting club?” Claire and Dom said in unison.

  Velma looked at Claire. “You’re probably too young to remember, but a few of the guys on the island had a treasure-hunting club back then. They believed all the rumors about pirate treasure being buried here on the island.”

  “Do you remember who was in this club?” Dom asked.

  Velma thought for a while and shook her head. “I can’t remember…it’s been so long. Even his widow has long since left the island. I think she left his treasure-hunting stuff in the locker he had at the storage facility when she left. I don’t know what was done with it after that. The treasure-hunting club didn’t last long after Elbert disappeared. Maybe now we know why…”

  “I remember there were four of them ...” Hazel scrunched up her face and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m pretty sure Benjamin Hill was in it, but I can’t remember who else.”

  Velma pressed her lips together. “Yes, I think Hill was in the Club. I know if I think about it long enough, the rest will come to me.” She looked at Dom apologetically. “You know at my age, it takes a while to dig into the memory banks.”

  Dom nodded, but his mind was not on Velma’s words. He was still thinking about Benjamin Hill. Benjamin Hill had been the one who was so vocal about not digging up the site yesterday. Was that because he knew what they would find?

  Dom grabbed his napkin and patted his lips. “Well, ladies, this has been quite enjoyable, but I think we are ready for the check. Right, Claire?”

  He wasn’t surprised to see Claire nodding eagerly, her plate already pushed away. Like Dom, she didn’t like to waste time once they had a trail of clues. And while they didn’t exactly have a trail of clues, they did have a place to start looking now. And a suspect—Benjamin Hill.

  5

  Claire hurried down the steps of the Gull View Inn, the pear-and-arugula salad barely settled in her stomach. She was excited to be back on the hunt with a trail of clues to follow. She knew that Dom, who was hurrying down the steps at her heels, was just as excited.

  “How well do you know Benjamin Hill?” Dom asked. “I think we need to pay a visit.”

  “Absolutely.” Claire crossed to her car and slid into the driver’s seat, noting that the sun was just barely slanting over the western section of the island. Just a little past noon. She did want to visit Benjamin, but there was still plenty of time, and she had an idea that might produce better clues.

  Velma’s mention of the storage facility had piqued Claire’s interest. She knew human nature, and when humans had something they didn’t want anyone to see but that they wanted to keep, they hid it away in places no one else could get to. Locked places. Like a storage unit. “The storage facility is closer, and I think we might want to make a visit there first to see if there’s any record of what was in that unit.”

  Dom stared at her. “You’re choosing physical clues over the body language of a potential suspect?”

  “I must be picking up some of your bad habits.”

  The island had only one storage facility, so it wasn’t hard to figure out where to go. It was set off the beaten path, far into the woods. Claire drove a little too fast for the narrow dirt road, but she wasn’t worried about speeding tickets—her nephew wouldn’t dare ticket her for fear she’d withhold her delicious pies and other desserts.

  The stately pine trees and centuries-old oaks whizzed by as she navigated the old roads.

  “Watch out for moose,” Dom joked. More than a hundred years ago when the first islanders built their camps, there had been a large population of moose. They had run amuck, so to speak, which was how the island had gotten its name. These days, one rarely saw the majestic creatures, whose dwindling population preferred to stick to the undeveloped sections of the island.

  The storage facility wasn’t much to look at. It had been modernized since its modest beginnings sixty years ago, with the owners adding concrete structures and metal doors.

  Naturally Claire knew the owner, Marcy Dodds, the second generation to run the facility. Marcy lived in the ramshackle house at the edge of the property and, since the storage facility was infrequently visited, she didn’t have normal office hours, preferring to run over and open up when she saw a car drive in. Which made it odd that the office was open now, the light on and Marcy’s rotund figure bustling around inside.

  “Someone must be here.” Claire drove past the upper parking lot to the first row of units. Maybe it was a coincidence that someone was here, but Claire didn’t believe much in coincidence.

  There was someone there, and their car was parked around at the end of the first row of units: a shiny new Volvo.

  “Isn’t that Jane’s car?” Dom asked.

  “Yes, I believe it is.” Claire didn’t remember Jane mentioning she had a storage unit, but then they’d been friends for so long it could have been something she’d said in passing years ago that Claire had long forgotten about. Or it could be fairly recent—Jane’s mother’s dementia had recently worsened, and she’d moved her to an expensive assisted-living facility on the mainland. Jane had moved into the family home and sold her own place, so it made sense she’d need a storage unit to hold the excess items while she sorted through seven decades of memories at her parents’ house.

  The door to the large unit was open, and Claire could see it was packed to the brim. Jane was weaving her way down a narrow aisle, her attention riveted on a small cardboard box in her hands. Claire’s approach must have startled Jane, as the woman jerked her head up and clutched the box to her chest.

  “Claire! You scared me.” Jane glanced nervously over her shoulder into the storage unit, then her eyes drifted back to Claire and then over to Dom. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Actually, we
re following up a lead on the body that was found in the trunk yesterday,” Claire said.

  Jane’s brow creased. “You’re investigating that?”

  Well, we can’t let Zambuco do it and get it all wrong. Claire did not voice her thoughts. Even though Jane hadn't confessed anything to her, Claire knew there was something between her and Zambuco, and she didn't want to hurt her friend’s feelings.

  “We are,” Dom said.

  Jane pulled down the storage unit door and slipped on the lock. Over her shoulder she said, “But isn’t it a three-hundred-year-old murder? How do you expect to be able to solve it?”

  “Actually, it isn’t. The victim turned out to be Elbert Daniels,” Claire said.

  Jane sucked in a breath. Straightening from the task of putting on the lock, she wobbled on her feet.

  “Are you all right, Jane?” Claire put her hand on Jane’s arm to steady her.

  Jane waved her off. “I’m fine. It’s just…it’s shocking, that’s all. I remember Elbert from when I was a little girl. But I thought he drowned in a boat accident.”

  “That’s what everyone thought.” Claire couldn’t shake the feeling that Jane knew more than she was letting on. Maybe it was only the fact that she’d known him as a child, but judging by her body language, Claire had a pretty good idea that Jane might have some information for them. She waited patiently, but Jane didn't say any more.

  “How did you know Elbert?” Dom asked after a few seconds.

  “I didn’t really know him. I was young at the time. What would you say we were, around ten years old, Claire?” Jane turned to Claire, who nodded. “Anyway, I think he was a friend of my dad. I remember meeting him once or twice.”

  That explained it. Jane’s dad had died of a heart attack when they were teens, and it always upset Jane to think about him even after all these years. Bringing up Elbert must remind her of her father. Claire could sympathize, having lost her father a couple years ago.

  “But what brings you here though? Did Elbert have a storage unit? I’m sure it wouldn’t still be occupied if he did,” Jane said.

  “He did have one, according to Velma. We’re just checking the facts, figuring maybe there was some kind of record of what he had. His widow left the island soon after his disappearance, and we don’t know if she even cared what was in it. If the bill wasn’t paid, the contents would have been auctioned off, and there might be an inventory record of the contents. Maybe we can find a clue in that inventory.” Dom shrugged. “You never know.”

  “I’ll leave you guys to it, then,” Jane said. Claire noticed the color had come back to her cheeks, and she seemed cheery enough as she waved good-bye and got into her car. Claire admonished herself for being suspicious of her dearest friend. Sometimes she let her investigative instincts get the best of her.

  Dom watched her car drive away then glanced at the storage unit door. “Did she seem unsettled to you?”

  “With good reason.” Claire came to her friend’s defense. “Her dad died when she was young, and remembering back to those days probably reminds her of losing him. She might’ve even been in the storage unit getting memorabilia from him. Maybe something to bring to her mother at Greenbriar Manor, the assisted-living home on the mainland.”

  Dom’s face turned thoughtful. “I suppose that would do it. It’s not easy losing a loved one.”

  “That’s true.” Claire didn’t want to let Dom dwell on his sad memories. Best to get on with the investigation. That would bring the spark back to his eye and the spring to his step. “Come on, let’s catch Marcy in the office before she goes back home.”

  They walked to the office. As they opened the door, Marcy looked up from her seat at the desk on the other side of the counter, her head barely visible behind the tall countertop.

  Upon recognizing them, she shot out of her chair, which didn’t make her a heck of a lot taller. Claire herself was almost five feet seven inches and judged Marcy to be a good half a foot shorter. Marcy’s pudgy face beamed with a welcoming smile. “So many visitors today! What can I do for you?”

  “Hi, Marcy,” Claire said. “I hope you can help us. We heard that Elbert Daniels had a storage unit here. I don’t suppose you happen to know what was in there? Do you know anything about it?”

  Marcy nodded. “Of course. You’re not the first people to be asking about that unit this week.”

  Dom’s brows shot up in surprise. “We’re not? Who else was asking?”

  “I don’t know her name. She was new to the island, I suppose. Sweet young girl. Tall with dark-brown hair.”

  Great, Claire thought. That kind of description would fit half the population. “Did she have any distinguishing marks?”

  “Distinguishing marks?”

  “You know, birthmarks, something unusual about her?”

  Marcy shook her head. “No. I wasn’t really looking.”

  “So what did you tell her about the unit?” Dom asked. “And what happened to the contents?”

  “Oh, we still have the contents. Daddy always had a rule that unless all the units were rented and a new customer needed the space, we kept the contents of the units that people didn’t pay for.” Marcy shrugged. “He always did have a soft spot for his fellow islanders, and he figured they might make good on the bill someday. He hated to get rid of their stuff, and if we couldn’t rent the space to someone else, then it wasn’t really hurting us. Daddy always thought that one day Liz or one of her children would come back and want to see what Elbert had stored in there.”

  “Do you think maybe we could take a look?” Dom asked.

  Marcy narrowed her eyes. “Well, I don’t know if that would be right …”

  “Technically, if the bill has not been paid, I’d imagine the contents now belong to the storage facility. Most general storage contracts have that clause to allow the owner to sell off the contents to make up for nonpayment. I’m sure your contract is no different. So legally, you’d be free to show it to whoever you want,” Dom said.

  “It could be vitally important,” Claire added.

  “Vitally important? Wait a minute, you mean this has something to do with the body that was found yesterday?” Marcy’s voice rose with the excitement of being involved in a murder investigation.

  “It may.”

  “But I thought that was an old pirate.”

  Claire sighed and glanced at Dom, who nodded. “I suppose the truth will be out all over the island soon, but don’t let Zambuco know we told you. The body was Elbert Daniels.”

  Marcy’s hand flew up to her face. “Oh my. You mean he didn’t die in that boat accident?”

  “No, and you can see why it’s important that we see what he had stored. There could be a clue to his killer in there.”

  “Of course.” Marcy turned around to a row of keys that was tacked up on the board behind her and plucked one off, then came around the counter and headed toward the door, motioning for them to follow. They hurried to the last row of storage units and watched as she bent over and slipped the key into an old, rusted lock.

  She grunted and jammed the key in, yanking and twisting it. “This unit doesn’t get opened often, and the lock is almost rusted shut.”

  “Let me see.” Dom squatted down to help her. After a few seconds of fiddling, the lock clicked open, and he lifted up the squealing metal door.

  Claire eagerly peered inside, her excitement plummeting to disappointment.

  “It’s empty.”

  Confusion registered on Marcy’s face. “I don’t understand. The equipment was still here two weeks ago when I did the monthly check to make sure there were no leaks or mice, and I have the only key. Well, the only key besides the one Elbert had.”

  "What about the girl who asked about it?" Claire asked.

  Marcy shook her head. "No, she never even came to it, as far as I know. I verified he did have a unit here, and she thanked me and drove off."

  Dom walked into the unit, and Claire watched, fascinated, a
s he inspected the floor, the corners, the walls. She had no idea what he found so interesting—to her it was just an empty space—but to Dom, apparently, there were clues to be found.

  She could see the scrapes, impressions, rusted spots, and dark areas that stained the floor from decades of equipment storage. Dom scuffed the floor in the corner with his toe, turning over some peculiar-looking red pebbles. He bent and picked a few up, slipping them into his pocket.

  “Well, I guess there’s not much in the way of clues here.” Dom patted his right brow then turned and met Claire’s gaze. Her gut sank when she saw her own disturbing thoughts reflected in his eyes.

  Someone didn’t want anyone to see what had been in here. But who? And why?

  6

  Benjamin Hill lived on the more affluent side of the island in a large estate with a panoramic ocean view and professionally manicured grounds.

  “So this is how the other half lives,” Dom said as the tires of Claire’s Fiat crunched on the pebble driveway. He got out of the car and scuffed the gravel with his toe. Claire’s questioning look told him that she was thinking about the pebbles from the storage unit, but Dom shook his head. “Not the right color or size.”

  “Now remember, let's act like we're just talking about island events,” Claire cautioned as they approached the imposing wooden door.

  “Agreed. We don’t want to let on that the body was Elbert Daniels. We don’t want to tip Benjamin off if he knows something. He’ll find out soon enough who was in the trunk when word gets around the island.”

  Claire knocked on the door, and a few minutes later, it opened to reveal Allen Hill, surprise registering as he recognized them. “Claire? Dom? What are you doing here?”

  “We’ve come to pay a visit to your grandfather. I was most concerned about him yesterday. A man of his age shouldn’t be getting all riled up like that,” Claire said.

  “That’s very nice of you. Grandpa is fine, though.” Allen didn’t invite them in. In fact, he looked like he was about to shoo them away.