Finally, the truck came to a stop.
He quickly climbed out and scrambled toward the object.
No, not an object.
It was a woman.
It was Felicity!
He shook her, concerned at her stillness. Her skin was freezing. Her nose was red. A thin layer of ice had formed across her face.
This wasn’t good.
Quickly, he gathered her in his arms and carried her to the truck. He tucked her in before climbing in himself and blasting the heat. He had to get her to the hospital.
There was no time to waste.
Chapter Fifteen
Felicity awoke to coldness.
Whiteness.
Brightness.
The snow, she realized with a start.
She tried to sit up as an instant sense of panic kicked in. But she couldn’t move. Couldn’t. Something held her down. Chains? No. More like a wire. Wires.
And what was that beeping sound?
She forced her eyes open as her heart rate surged.
A white room came into view.
She was indoors, she realized.
It was cold . . . but not blizzard cold. Chilly in a sterile manner—like a hospital.
In an instant, Brody appeared at her side.
At the sight of his handsome face, her throat went dry. Why did he have to have that effect on her? He’d seen her at her worst. At her weakest. Most vulnerable.
She never wanted a man to see her like that again.
“How are you?” His voice sounded husky and anxious. His eyes were laced with surprising concern. The man hardly knew her, yet he’d gone out of his way to help her. He’d stuck around, even after her key-stealing shenanigan. He should get some kind of bonus points for that.
“I’m . . . I’m okay . . . I think.” She paused. “How did I get here?”
The last thing she remembered was talking to her aunt as she walked along the desolate road. Then everything had gone black.
“I found you on the road. In the snow. The man snatched you from your house. Do you remember?” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he studied her.
She closed her eyes as the memories flooded back. That was right. There was that man with the gun who’d forced her into his vehicle. He’d dumped her on the side of the road. She’d tried to walk to safety, but she hadn’t made it.
Her cheeks flushed as she wondered what had played out during those missing moments. Was that what Brody had felt like after his accident? A new surge of compassion rose in her.
“I do remember that man. I can’t believe you found me. I thought for sure I was going to die out there.” Her voice caught as the memories pounded her.
Had God heard her prayers?
Brody seemed to sense her distress and squeezed her hand. “Your aunt called and told Chief Haven what you’d told her. Honestly, it was only by God’s grace I found you when I did.”
“God’s grace, huh?” She wanted to snicker, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. The man had saved her life, so she could at least show some respect. But she’d given up on believing in God a long time ago.
“God’s grace has carried me through some of my darkest moments,” Brody said, his voice growing raspy. Suddenly he straightened, as if pulling himself together. “I’m glad you’re okay. You gave us all a good scare.”
She glanced around the hospital room, trying to get a sense of time. “How long have I been here?”
“About five hours.”
She peered out the window and saw it was dark outside. That made sense. If Brody hadn’t found her when he did . . . she’d probably be dead right now.
“Your aunt wanted to be here, but the roads have iced up again as the temperatures fell,” Brody continued. “I didn’t think it was safe.”
His concern for her aunt caused warmth to spread in her belly. “You actually managed to convince her to listen to you?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Some people say I have a way with women.”
Her eyebrows flinched up as she tried to read his tongue-in-cheek expression. “I’m sure you do.”
“It was a joke.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and she willed the rest of her body to do the same. She’d felt so uptight lately. Even more since she’d moved back here. She hadn’t been like this as a child. No, something had changed in her over the past few years. Since her parents died, for that matter.
“Sorry. I’m on edge,” she finally said.
“Do you really feel okay?”
At his question, she did a mental evaluation before nodding. “I think so. I can move my toes and fingers. That’s a good sign.”
He smiled. “Yes, it is.”
“How long do I have to stay here?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure, but I’d guess at least until morning. I’m sure the doctor will want to keep an eye on you. Besides, it’s not safe for anyone to leave right now. Not even me.”
She swallowed hard. “I just wanted to say thank you. You didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”
“You saved me. I guess we’re even now.”
She nodded resolutely, shifting her thoughts from Brody’s care and concern—things she most definitely should not think about—to the key that was stolen from her . . . er, from Brody.
“Did they catch the man who did this?” she asked.
Brody pressed his lips into a grim line. “Not yet. Joshua is looking into it.”
“Any idea who he is?”
Brody again shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I’m sure Joshua will want to talk to you.”
She pushed herself up higher in bed, careful to keep her unflattering gown around her shoulders amid her IV and heart monitor. She could only imagine what she looked like, even though that was the least of her concerns at the moment. Snippets of her conversation with the man came back to her.
“I think he’s a relic hunter, Brody.”
Brody squinted. “A relic hunter? Why would you think that?”
“Just from our conversation. He kept saying things that led me to believe that he thought I should know more about what was going on. I assure you, I have no idea. But he also had maps, and he had photocopies of something that looked like an old journal entry.”
“And that made you think he was a relic hunter?”
She licked her lips, realizing just how crazy she was going to sound. “I think he’s searching for whatever that key goes to. I think it’s valuable.”
“You mean like treasure?”
“Aunt Bonny would say Blackbeard’s.”
Brody stared at her a moment before letting out a laugh. “You’re joking, right?”
She shook her head. “I know how that sounds. But that key he had . . . it’s an antique. Plus the maps he was toting around were not modern-day maps. Well, a couple of them appeared to be. But there were several that were old, as well.”
“Blackbeard’s treasure is just local lore, Felicity.”
“Not for everyone. There are lots of people out there who believe he really did hide his treasure away. You know that. You’ve lived around here. Certainly you’ve heard stories.”
“About people who are related to pirates? Yeah, I’ve heard them.”
“My aunt believes we have pirate blood in our family.”
His eyebrows flickered upward, but he said nothing.
“At least you can put all of this behind you now,” he finally said. “After all, the police are on the case.”
She nodded. But there was no way she was letting this drop. She didn’t have a job. She had nothing to lose.
She was going to get that key also, and figure out exactly what was going on here. But she’d have to plan her moves carefully.
Brody saw the fire flash in Felicity’s eyes. Exactly what was she thinking? Certainly, she didn’t have any kind of fantasies about going after that guy herself, did she?
No, she was a smart girl. She could see how incredibly stupid it would be to try an
d find that guy. After all, he had murdered that man.
Yes, murdered. Joshua had told him the autopsy results had come back in. The man had died from a fatal blow to the head. And he’d been tortured first. It appeared his teeth had been pulled, one by one.
“You should get some rest,” he told her. “I’ll wait around the hospital, just to make sure trouble doesn’t come find you.”
“Oh, come on. Let’s be truthful: it’s because the roads are too dangerous.” She smiled, and he realized she was teasing.
If she only knew that there was something that was keeping him here beyond mere obligation. He didn’t know what—or he didn’t want to acknowledge what, at least. Felicity had stirred something inside him he’d thought was long dormant.
“Get some rest. It will do your body good,” he finally said.
Nearly before he finished his sentence, her eyes began to droop. The doctors had probably given her some type of medicine that would knock her out.
He stepped into the hallway and called Joshua to give him an update. Then he sat down in a chair outside the room and began to mentally rehash everything Felicity had told him.
Blackbeard’s treasure? Until the past two days, he hadn’t given it a thought in years. Years. Since he was a boy.
Sure, this area was rich with folklore about the pirate. But if that treasure hadn’t been found in more than two hundred years, he doubted it ever would be.
However, long-lost treasure fit in with the man being a relic hunter. Brody had encountered some in his time with the Coast Guard. Most of them searched for sunken treasure off the coast and tried to salvage any valuables. He knew the most successful were rich—some were filthy rich.
What if what Felicity had told him had merit?
Had this guy found some type of clue he thought would lead to this treasure?
Out of curiosity, he called a friend of his who was stationed with the Coast Guard at Fort Macon.
“Hey, man,” Tim Chavers said. “What’s going on?”
“Quick question,” Brody started. “You know anything about the excavation of the Queen Anne’s Revenge down there?”
“I know we have a lot of gawkers. People hoping to get a piece of the pie, so to speak. Why are you asking?”
Brody filled him in on some of the developments as of late.
“It all started with an old key, you said?”
“That’s right. You know anything about that?”
“Maybe you could talk with the guys from Project Teach. They’re the ones who record and document every find.”
“Good idea. Maybe I’ll do that. Speaking of that, have you had any problems with any relic hunters?”
Tim paused for a moment. “Not that I can think of. I did hear something rather interesting the other day, though. Just scuttlebutt around town.”
Brody straightened. “What was that?”
“I’ve gone out with a girl who works at Project Teach. She told me that one of the researchers working on the project disappeared a couple of days ago. They’re trying to keep it on the down-low at the moment before they bring in the authorities.”
He leaned back in the chair, letting that factoid sink in. “Really.”
“Yeah. His boss has been trying to call him, but hasn’t been able to get in touch.”
As much as Brody wanted to believe that this could be something, there could very well be a logical explanation. “We did just have a major snowstorm. Phone lines could be down. Roads closed. He could be checking on relatives. Maybe it’s not that unusual.”
“When you consider that there are three different maps missing, I’d say so.”
Fire heated Brody’s blood. Maps? Now this was getting interesting.
“Any chance you could send me the name and a picture of this guy?” Brody asked.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Twenty minutes later, Brody had the picture. Apparently the man’s name was Archibald Campbell. Brody did an Internet search on him, but nothing came up.
Strange. Everyone left some kind of digital footprint. He needed to look further into this man. It was too bad they hadn’t seen the intruder’s face.
He felt certain it was the man who’d been in Felicity’s house. He must have discovered something through his research that made him believe he could get rich, and he’d gone rogue.
Maybe the man Brody had picked up had found the key, and somehow this other guy—the one who’d abducted Felicity—had discovered that information.
Just then, Joshua showed up. His skin still looked rosy from the cold outside as he pulled off his gloves and stopped by Brody.
“You made it. I thought the roads might be too bad.”
“The main highways aren’t too bad, thankfully.” He glanced at Felicity’s door. “Any changes?”
“She should be released in the morning,” Brody insisted. “Any updates on your end?”
“We’re still searching for the man who grabbed her. Nothing yet. I came to get her statement.”
Brody stopped his friend before he went into Felicity’s room. “Hey, did you ever find out the name of the man who was found dead during the snowstorm?”
“Sure did. His name was Ivan Bordinski. From Hatteras. Despite the name, he was born and raised right here in North Carolina.”
“Know anything else about him?”
Joshua shook his head. “Not yet. But we’re working on it.”
“I know you are. Thanks for the information.”
Joshua nodded toward Felicity’s door. “I’d love to talk more. But my workload has tripled since the storm. I don’t have much time for anything but work.”
“Understood.” That was fine with Brody. He had enough to think about for the time being.
Chapter Sixteen
“Pasture . . .” the man muttered.
Just then, a bullet pierced the back window. Brody glanced in the rearview mirror and spotted a Hummer behind them, gaining speed by the moment.
He sat up with a start, and his eyes darted around him.
“Are you okay, sir?” A nurse stopped and examined him a moment.
He leaned back in the plastic seat perched outside Felicity’s hospital room and nodded. It was a flashback, he realized. More memories of what had happened during those lost hours.
“I’m fine,” he insisted. He ran a hand over his face and realized he was sweating. His heart raced. It was like he was there again.
That had to be what had happened when he’d awoken from his blackout the first time. His mind and body were telling him he was back in the life-or-death situation on the road. Felicity had just happened to be there, and she’d taken the brunt of it.
He swallowed hard, the memory still feeling fresh.
He’d picked up the stranded man. That guy must have been chasing Bordinski. But why?
He glanced at his watch. It was just past eight a.m. He was surprised that he’d slept as long as he had.
He peeked into Felicity’s room and saw that she was still sleeping. Good. She needed to rest.
Knowing that, he picked up his cell phone and began to look into Ivan Bordinski. He’d started the online search last night, but exhaustion had gotten the best of him.
The wonders of the Internet allowed him to quickly pull up several results.
This had to be the same man.
He clicked a couple of links, which brought up a picture.
Yes! This was the man he’d picked up on the side of the road.
Brody quickly gathered all the information he could about the guy. Ivan was in his late sixties, and he’d spent most of his life as a boat captain, based out of Cape Hatteras. He’d primarily done fishing charters.
His boat was a thirty-six-foot Carolina Custom Carman Sportfish.
That was the same kind of boat Brody had found out in the Perquimans during his search in the snowstorm. That boat had been Ivan’s. What had happened?
He found phone numbers for a few other captains who launch
ed from the same marina as Ivan. On impulse, he called one.
The first didn’t answer. The second number went to voice mail. Finally, the third captain he tried picked up.
“I’m Brody Joyner with the Coast Guard. Did you know Ivan Bordinski?”
“Ivan? Yeah, I know Ivan. Why you asking?”
Did the man not know Ivan was dead? He needed to handle this carefully. “I have a few questions for you. Is this a good time?”
“I leave for a charter in ten minutes. You have five. Is Ivan okay? I noticed his boat wasn’t in the slip this morning.”
“I’m sorry to tell you that he’s dead.”
“Dead? No . . . I just talked to him two days ago.”
“We’re looking into his death. I was hoping you could tell me about how he was acting when you last saw him.”
“Didn’t talk to him much. Just long enough to bemoan the lack of charters we were able to take because of that nor’easter and the incoming snowstorm.”
“Anything unusual about your conversations?”
“No, I don’t reckon there was. He was doing a lot of treasure hunting lately. Liked to talk about that a lot. Too much, some people would say.”
His pulse spiked. “Treasure hunting?”
“That’s what he called it. He liked to scour the shoreline here in Hatteras after storms.”
Brody’s hopes sank. For a moment, he’d thought he was onto something. “I see.”
“After this last nor’easter, he told me he found something that I was going to want to see. He had to talk to someone about it first.”
Brody’s interested spiked again. “He didn’t tell you what it was?”
“No, sir. But he sounded awfully excited about it.”
“Did he scour the shoreline often?”
“He mostly looked for shells. He liked to sell them to a few local shops to pick up a few extra dollars. But he did mention some interesting things that had washed ashore after that ship overturned out in the ocean a few months ago. Bags of potato chips! No value, but we all know around here that storms can churn up the strangest things. I wondered what that last nor’easter might have uncovered.”
Wait Until Dark: Carolina Moon Series, Book 3 Page 10