Cash Cassidy Adventures: The Complete 5-Book Series (Plus Bonus Novels)

by K. T. Tomb

  It was a short, but passionate kiss. It was initiated as quickly as it was broken. It was the kiss of two people who have been together for a long time and are confident enough in their mutual affection to refrain from the big displays to show everyone else they are in love.

  “So, what are we doing here, exactly?” Tim asked, looking closely at his wife. “I mean, besides the impromptu holiday.” He knew very well the way she could twist things, keeping him half in the dark if she wanted to.

  “Cotta's Box,” Cash said, as she leaned back in her seat.

  “Cotta's Box?” Tim asked, slightly incredulously.

  “Yes, the ornate ivory box that belonged to Aurelia Cotta; a wedding gift from her uncle Marcus Aurelius Cotta. But it’s not really the box I’m worried about; it’s what was in it. A golden statue of a jaguar.”

  “Now that is one relic I'm pretty sure does not exist.”

  “A week ago, I was off on your line of thinking too,” Cash smiled. “I’d never heard of such a thing, but it turns out it exists and it’s going to be on display right here in Heraklion tomorrow night.”

  “Why here?” Tim asked, not very confident.

  “Why not? Isn't this one of the oldest known cities of ancient Greece? And haven’t they got one of the most famous museums here not to mention one of the world’s greatest archeological dig sites?”

  Tim blinked and slapped himself on the forehead. “Hersonissos. I'm just tired, it’s been a long day's travel.”

  Cash grinned and shook her head. “I've been traveling for two days now, and with a kid. You can't be tired in comparison to me.”

  “Really? You don't seem tired to me,” Tim said, suppressing a yawn.

  “That's because I don't want to be tired just now. I've got something to do that requires a bit of energy, and then I can sleep.” Cash looked around the street and into the cathedral square. There was chanting coming from the direction of the cathedral. Someone had explained to her it was the seat of the Orthodox Archbishop of Crete, so she reckoned there was some sort of mass going on.

  “What do you need to do?” Tim asked. “It's bloody late and everything is closed now. We can't go up to the ruins now; Paddy's in bed.”

  “It involves you,” Cash said, barely looking at him. When she did look at him, she found him going red. “Are you blushing?”

  “No.” Tim denied it, but the strain on the front of his pants showed his excitement in spite of his tiredness.

  Back in the room, over an hour later, Tim was reluctant to undress, though. He protested making love with Paddy in the same room. Cash had no such scruples and she undressed quickly. When Tim still didn’t do more than undo the top button of his shirt, she got up and pulled him down onto the bed.

  They spent a long time making love, their son never stirring in the cot at the other end of the room. Even if he woke, he didn’t show it. Cash had known he wouldn’t wake up, not after the day they’d had.

  She couldn’t imagine not making love just because their child was sleeping in the same room. He was a baby who understood nothing much of the things he saw around him. Perhaps she was a bit wilder in that way, and either more logical in thought or more progressive, she was unsure which it was. Tim was more conservative in that way, or perhaps just more English. Eventually, they were both satisfied and, basking in the afterglow, they settled down, their bodies entangled.

  They woke up to Paddy complaining. He had taken his stuffed toy, a red dragon on which his mother had stitched a Southern Cross, and the Barbie doll and was sitting up, looking at them. The sides of the bed were too high for him to get out of it. He brandished the doll as though it was a sword and the dragon was breathing flames at his parents.

  Cash lay looking at him through half-opened eyelids. She felt Tim stirring beside her.

  Paddy hugged the dragon and lay back, then sat up again and ran the doll along the bars on the sides, as a prisoner would run a cup along the bars of his cell.

  “What does he want?” Tim asked lazily.

  “He wants out. Join us.” Cash yawned and raised herself up. She got out of the bed, pulled a robe on and walked over to the cot. She picked up Paddy, who dropped the doll and hugged his mom, the dragon held firmly by the tail.

  Cash lifted him up and smelled his diaper. It wasn’t bad. He had probably only peed once, so changing him could wait half an hour. Her son on her hip, she walked back to bed. She threw the sheets back and got into bed.

  Tim rolled over and reached for his boxers which lay on the floor beside the bed. Tim lay back down and looked at his son. Paddy happily crawled over onto him, laying himself down on his chest. Tim hugged him, relishing the affection of his little son.

  After a while, Paddy pulled himself out of his father's embrace and lay between them again. He closed his eyes for a little while, but his dragon was moving and breathing fire. Eventually, his eyes opened again and the dragon began running over his father's chest, then flew over his head onto his mother's head and down. It walked down over her face, causing Cash to close her eyes and make a face. The dragon walked over her breast and then onto the sheet. “Wraah!” roared Paddy, looking back at his parents. Cash raised her arms to shield herself from the flames.

  “Wraah!” The dragon faced Tim. Tim didn’t react.

  “Wraah!” said Paddy, a bit louder now. His father just looked.

  “I think you just got burned to a crisp,” said Cash.

  “Why's he got a dragon again?” Tim asked, yawning again.

  “Because he picked it out in the toy shop.”

  “A bit too Welsh,” Tim complained.

  “No, it's not. It's a completely lower class dragon. He’s got a Southern Cross tattoo and everything.”

  Tim laughed. The dragon breathed fire in his direction again and now he raised his hands, but the dragon was quicker and snuck underneath to breathe flames into his face, and he screamed as he burned, causing Paddy to laugh in pure delight. Cash tickled him to get him off his father and he squealed. He rolled onto his back to escape his mother's fingers, but now both his mother and father began tickling him and he had no escape, so he just lay there laughing and squirming. Tim looked at his wife over their laughing son and kissed her.

  After breakfast, they headed toward the Historical Museum of Crete, with Paddy now being carried. Cash had decided his dad could carry him because the stroller would just be a nuisance. She needed the stroller for the boy to sleep in and play around in on the ferry journeys. On the mostly uneven sidewalks of Heraklion, it would have been like driving a roller coaster. For Paddy, his daddy's shoulders were a good replacement.

  Until the show at the museum opened that evening, it wouldn’t hold anything which would give Cash any clues; they would need to go to the Hersonissos' ruins for that. But Tim did know the curator of the museum, who was an expert on Hersonissos as well. According to Tim, he had even written an article about the Cottas. Cash was very excited to meet him, but to her disappointment, the man didn’t speak a lick of English.

  At the modern settlement of Hersonissos was the site of the ancient town of Chersonesos. It was an important seaport that served the city of Lyttos from classical Greece through Byzantine times. Today’s modern pleasure port was built over the remains of the ancient Roman port, though some traces of those remains are still visible. In some places, though, most of them are submerged. There is a Roman fountain with mosaics of fishing scenes on the seaside street and on the top of the rocky hill behind the port, an early Christian basilica with floor mosaics stands in ruins.

  The ancient town became important enough in the Roman province of Creta to be among the first to be named a Christian bishopric after the conversion of Rome to Christianity. After the Venetian conquest of Crete in 1212, the existing dioceses, such as Chersonesos, were administered by Latin church bishops.

  Tim attempted to translate between his curator friend and Cash, but she lost interest the moment Paddy began getting restless. Instead, she left it to Ti
m to find out as much as he could, with his working knowledge of Greek, and she went to explore the museum with the boy, hoping to catch a glimpse of the new exhibits.

  The area of the museum that housed the H&H Foundations’ exhibit was cordoned off and out of bounds until the show opened, but the adjacent areas had several exhibitions of ancient paintings, most of which turned out to be ecclesiastic.

  Cash didn’t like touring the rows of pictures of saints and massacres with Paddy, but the boy was fascinated by them. One that caught his eye in particular was one of a man on a hillock, with a dove sitting on his shoulder. Paddy couldn’t take his eyes off it and he wanted to touch it. He still had his dragon in his hand and the dragon seemed to like the painting too.

  Cash tried to read the description, but it was in Greek. She was still tired and so it took a moment for her to realize there was an English text underneath. She laughed heartily when she read the name of the person pictured and picked her son up again. “You’re a bloody little rascal, aren't you?” Paddy just looked at her and blew a raspberry. The person depicted in the picture was Saint David.

  When Tim was done, they headed out again. They hailed a taxi outside and headed for the hills, some six miles from the city. That was where the ruins of the ancient city of Hersonissos lay mostly hidden below the modern city. When they reached the parking lot, which was less full than Cash had expected, they looked down on the city of Heraklion below them and Cash could see the vast complex of ruins stretching before them on the hilltop.

  It was almost noon now. Cash had thought ahead and from her backpack, she produced a picnic blanket, food and drink. She also had the sense to bring the thin mattress from the stroller and Paddy's blanket.

  Tim had marveled at that change in her ever since they’d brought the baby home. She had always been one for taking off on a whim and not thinking about the consequences, but motherhood seemed to have calmed her down. The previous night proved to him she had not changed all that much and was still a wild woman when she wanted to be, but their son had managed to instill a sensible streak in her. She seemed to like the order of things now. She seemed to be organized and planned a lot more. Even though the ferry journey had not been the most sensible, she had not put herself in danger, like she used to do, and she had been strategic in how she’d broken down the traveling.

  They sat down on a patch of grass where they could look out over the city and the Aegean Sea and began their picnic. After eating, they all lay down for a moment. Paddy needed his nap, so Cash rolled out the mattress and covered him with his blanket. He hugged the dragon close and closed his eyes, knowing it was expected of him to sleep. Within moments, he’d dozed off.

  “At least he's like his mom in that. You barely sleep a wink in a tent; I sleep anywhere,” Cash remarked to Tim.

  Tim frowned at her. “Maybe that's because I have a more civilized constitution than you colonials?”

  Cash grinned and rolled onto her stomach, gazing at her husband. “So, what have you been up to since you marooned me on that island?”

  Tim seemed like he would protest, but then he caught on to the wordplay. He touched his nose and winked at her. He laid himself on his side and rested his head on his hand, supported by his elbow. He shifted, finding a rock in the way. “Well, I've been lecturing really. Mid-terms coming up, so prepping the students for that. A little lecturing, a lot of instructing students on how to get through their exams, and on how to write essays.”

  “Writing essays?” Cash frowned, surprised such a thing would even be required.

  “Yeah. Some of them can't write to save their lives. They can’t string two decent thoughts into a paragraph and then they fail the exam miserably all because they can't write a coherent essay.”

  “That's fucking ridiculous.” Cash rolled her eyes and shook her head. “How the hell did they get through their A-levels if they can't write an essay?”

  Tim shrugged. “We can't even call them out on it these days because it might hurt their feelings. Though from what I gather in Wales, that attitude has not caught on as badly as it has in the metropolitan areas of England.”

  Cash shook her head. “Well, maybe I should try to take your mind off that sort of bollocks.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Tim sighed. “Shall we just talk about something else?”

  Cash raised herself up a bit and looked him straight in the eyes. “You really are clueless sometimes, aren't you, pet?”

  When Paddy had finished his nap, they headed into the archeological site itself. Tim had been there several times, though not recently. He was confident enough in showing Cash around as he carried Paddy though.

  Cash had wanted to go there for a long time but had never done so. There just had not been time for it or any reason to go to Crete. She was impressed by the jumble of rocks and stones that had once been the buildings of one of the greatest cities of its time.

  Hersonissos had been the home of the new Roman Christian civilization, but was not nearly as prestigious as Knossos, which had been the center of the Minoans, one of the first known civilizations with an alphabet and with a structured society. As such, she had always wanted to see Crete; so richly involved in the early development of the world.

  Tim explained about how the place had been excavated and what they had discovered there. The most interesting thing, Cash thought, was how they had found a room with hawthorn residue and stones plastered on the wall. She found it fascinating to think this room—which had colors splattered on it using the same process she had used herself— had been used for something she did as well.

  After a while, they walked on through the restored ancient streets. The city was remarkably orderly. It was laid out in a grid shape and the main buildings were obvious. The houses were laid out in streets and in blocks of four, surrounding a small square.

  When they got to the cathedral, Tim set Paddy down. The boy toddled around a bit, trying to find out everything he could. Cash and Tim sat down on the steps of the church.

  “Anything interesting yet?” Tim asked.

  Cash pursed her lips and sighed. “Not really, eh.” She sighed and lay down dramatically. “Maybe this is not a project worth pursuing.”

  “Well, I, for once, am glad you decided to do this.” Tim turned a bit, leaning over her. “We've had more time together these days than we’ve had for a while.”

  “We did spend weeks together earlier,” Cash protested.

  “You know what I mean. Outside holidays.”

  Cash nodded. “It has been nice.” She laid her head on the stone and rolled her eyes back.

  Suddenly she shot up. She got to her feet and raced toward a wall in the big hall of the church. She looked up at a point in the wall and stood there staring at it.

  Tim grabbed her backpack, picked up their son and ran after her. He came to stand beside her and looked up at what she was looking at.

  “What are you looking at?” Tim asked.

  Cash pointed to some figures of a woman in an elaborate feather headdress holding an idol; it looked like a large cat and she like a priestess. But the drawing next to it showed her pointing up a broad river at canoes. What looked like men were coming out of them and making their way to shore. Her eyes traced the line of drawings. There were more. They told a story. The men arrived and then they stood assembled around an altar. There were several items on and around the altar that looked like food and treasure. Something large, bright and round shone on top of the raised dais. The men took the cat statue and other things like necklaces and such and placed them into a box.

  Cash walked along the wall and rounded the corner. There were more drawings on the wall.

  “Come and have a look at this, Tim!” she shouted.

  Tim followed her and looked. The drawings told more. After the last item was placed into the box, a ship landed. The sailors came ashore. One of them bore a yellow-looking skin with a ram's head. The new group of men began assembling, standing opposite from the first group. Thes
e men looked different. They had pale faces. They took the treasure box and sailed away again. The priestess woman was in despair and withered away. The last picture showed the sailors leaving a pale-faced woman who was richly dressed. The sailors had the box and were sailing away.

  “What the hell?” Tim said softly.

  “I know...” Cash said. “Did nobody ever see this?”

  “I imagine they did, but just figured it was another depiction of some family story or irrelevant children’s fairytale.”

  “Fairytale? It’s clearly Greek myth, isn’t it?”

  “Well, not really. The ancient Romans—especially the families like the Claudians and the Cottas, who could commission and patronize the construction of buildings like this—were famous for instilling their sometimes boring family histories with the myths when they told their small children stories. It made the men folk look like heroes when they were often the country’s villains.”

  “Yes, but this is more than what the history ever told us about, isn't it?”

  Tim nodded. “Yes. There is something more to it which is exactly what makes me feel it’s a family fabrication. Something happened here which they decided to embed into the legends.”

  Cash nodded. “But what?”

  Tim looked over the pictures again. “Something was stolen, it seems.”

  Cash punched her husband in the arm. “I can see that, but by whom?”

  “Well, these guys. The ones with that golden fleece thing.” Tim sighed. “Whomever they were.”

  Cash just gazed at him. Then she laughed and kissed him. Paddy protested, half squashed between his father and his mother's breasts. Cash quickly kissed him on the head and then kissed her husband's cheek. “You’re brilliant. A bit thick sometimes, but brilliant.”

  Tim frowned at the weird compliment.

  “The Golden Fleece.” Cash pointed to the man carrying the yellow fur. “Jason and the Argonauts.”

  Tim's jaw dropped. “But...”

  Cash gave him a sharp look. “Paddy, tell your dad his mouth is not an airplane hangar.”