Of course, even if we understood the whole thing, what difference would it make now? The woman was dead. Her husband was dead. Their home was destroyed. I don’t think they prosecute dead people.
Beckett shook his head. “I’m not sure. But she ran our house, always did. Dad obeyed her every wish, or he had hell to pay. I think she had something over him. But I never knew what it was.” He slid an arm tighter around Jane. “She didn’t want me to go to college. It all started happening when I began to look at schools. I was very interested in Boston University. I wanted to stay close enough to see Jane, but far enough away that I could move out. And she fought me tooth and nail on the idea. She wanted me to do online courses.” He grimaced. “Can you believe that?”
It was midnight. Robbie had gone to bed earlier, having explained that he’d not slept well in a long time. It wasn’t easy to sleep in a dungeon, and the poor man had suffered for months.
We’d still had no luck reaching the authorities and had pretty much given up. They’d just have to investigate Winston’s death tomorrow. The mansion had burned itself out, with only a few blackened walls and the central chimney remaining. The garage had been spared, and after retrieving Albert’s car keys, we’d safely transferred both my car and his back to the Cook’s driveway.
The baby monitor on the coffee table buzzed and Mason’s little voice came over it. “Mama!” He began to fuss, and Jane slid out of Beckett’s arm.
“I’d better go to him,” she said. She disappeared up the stairs.
Albert had been standing at the window, staring at the ocean, hands in pockets. He let out a long sigh and turned toward us, shuffling over to his favorite rocker. He dropped heavily into the chair and began to rock.
Beckett sat quietly, once again staring into the distance.
Albert cleared his throat. “I have something to say.”
Beckett glanced at him with apprehension. They’d been avoiding each other.
“I have to make an apology.” He turned to Beckett. “To you, boy.” He stopped rocking and lowered his eyes. “I’m real sorry I misjudged you.”
Nobody said a word.
Albert continued. “It was the feud, mostly. I was brought up to hate the McNabbs since I was a kid. And then, when Mason came, I blamed only you.” He glanced toward the ceiling. “Not that I don’t love that boy.”
Sounds of Jane comforting her son came through the speaker.
“Thank you, sir.” Beckett locked eyes with Albert. “I’m going to take care of Jane and Mason now.”
Albert raised a hand. “Good to hear, but I’m not done.” He rose and approached the young man, offering his hand. “I wanna make a truce between our families. You need to stay with us. You’re Mason’s daddy. You lost your home. And now, you’ll be part of our family. That is, if you want to.”
“Yes, I want to.” Beckett’s mouth quivered, but he didn’t let the tears out yet. Instead, he stood and shook Albert’s hand. “I won’t let you down.”
Now the tears came. Albert opened his arms and held the boy, who cried on his shoulder. Albert patted his back with his rough hands and muttered comforting words.
I motioned to Camille, who came to my chair and slid onto my lap. I just held her for a while, enjoying the feeling of her leaning against me.
Jane came down with the baby. “He’s still upset from today, I think. I’m just going to rock him for a while.”
“We should go home,” Camille whispered.
I agreed, and we stood to go.
“Come back tomorrow?” Jane said. “We have so much to talk about.”
“Of course.” I put my hand in my pocket for my keys, but felt the pouch of pearls instead. I drew them out. “I forgot about these.”
Jane accepted the velvet bag with confusion in her eyes. “What’s that?”
“I found them in an empty room underground. I thought you should have them.”
She opened the bag with one hand, still cradling her son in her lap. He drank the cuppy she’d refilled for him and seemed ready to fall asleep again.
“Pearls?” She held one string of opalescent spheres up in the light of the nearest lamp. The bag jiggled with the rest of the unbound pearls. “They’re beautiful. But they belong to Beckett’s family, don’t they?”
Beckett approached her. “You’re my family now,” he said. “Everything that’s down there goes to you and Mason.”
Jane’s eyes went round. “You mean, the treasure chests Gus told us about?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
She glanced at her grandfather. “Does this mean we won’t lose the house, Gramps?”
Albert just stared at the boy.
Beckett reached down to caress his son’s hair. “It means we’ll have money for a while. Until I can graduate college and take care of you all properly.”
I wondered if there might even be a big life insurance policy on his parents. He could be set for life, and be able to properly care for his new family for a very long time.
We gradually worked our way toward the front door, promising Albert we’d be back at ten the next morning.
Chapter 39
I slept heavily that night and didn’t wake until nine the next morning. Camille still snuggled under the comforter, mumbling something about coffee cake and a princess. I kissed her forehead, wondering what fanciful story had invaded her morning dreams. She moaned, and pulled the covers over her head.
The sun shone into the room with a renewed brightness, with a promise of better days to come. I left my wife still sleeping soundly, crept downstairs, and started the coffee. While it brewed, I stepped outside to survey the storm damage. Last night it had been too dark to see anything, so we’d just tumbled into bed.
Several of the pines were down in the woods behind the house. One had fallen across the back deck, but it was a young sapling, and I was able to drag it over to the treeline. I grabbed a push broom from the garage and swept a thick carpet of pine needles from the deck. Next, I reconnected one end of the clothesline that had come loose in the high winds.
I inspected the outside of the house, making a slow circle around it. Except for a couple of deck chairs that must have blown over from a neighbors’ yard, I didn’t see anything amiss. No roof shingles lay on the grass and no windows were cracked or broken. I dragged the two chairs out to the edge of the road where they’d be seen, and hoped someone would claim them.
The lights had been on when we arrived home last night, and there was no evidence the house had lost power. The clock on the microwave wasn’t blinking, so the folks on Run Hill Road had been lucky.
Back inside, I opened the cellar door to check for evidence of flooding. The cement floor was dry and dusty, so it wasn’t likely that any water had penetrated the building.
Satisfied, I sent a quick email to the owners, who lived south of Boston, to let them know their property had come through the storm without damage.
When I finished, I stole upstairs to shower. The hot water felt soothing on my sore knee and aching limbs. I stood under it for a long time, letting it loosen the tight muscles.
The shower curtain pulled back and a sleepy Camille smiled at me. “Are you going to use up all the hot water?”
I chuckled. “I’m almost done. You wanna join me?”
She yawned. “Not this morning, honey. Maybe later.”
I stepped out and dried off. I planned to take her up on that offer this time.
***
We arrived at the Cooks’ house a few minutes after ten. Albert met us at the front door, having just returned from his morning search for treasure on the beach. I wondered if today would be his last day ever that he searched for the golden crosses. I hoped we’d find answers for him down in the tunnels beneath the sand.
“Mornin’, you two.” He leaned the metal detector up against the side of the house and opened the door for us. “Except for all the boats up on the shore, you’d never know we just came through a hurricane.” He gesture
d to the sky. “Look at that.”
He was right. The sapphire sky held puffs of cumulus clouds unmoving in its tender grasp. There was no wind, and the cobalt sea stretched calm toward the horizon, its colors changing from blue to green and back again, reflecting the various depths of water. There were even a few kayakers out on the ocean this morning.
“It’s beautiful,” Camille said, hooking her arm through his. “How’s everyone doing?”
Albert walked stiffly up the steps, favoring his left hip. “They’re doin’ okay. Everyone’s excited about your visit.”
We stepped into the entryway and found Beckett folding up a sheet and blanket from the couch where he’d apparently slept last night.
“Morning.” He laid them on a pillow and stored the bundle on a side table. “It’s pretty comfortable.” He gestured to the old lumpy couch.
Robbie poked his head out of the library to say good morning. I assumed he’d been going over the papers one more time before we resumed our search.
Jane yelled “hello” over the clatter of dishes in the sink. “Be out in a minute.”
Mason crawled along the floor, throwing and chasing a blue plastic ball. He crawled so fast I cringed, thinking his little knees would be smarting from the hard wooden floor. But he didn’t seem to notice and kept it up. When the ball rolled under a deacon bench on the side of the room, he reached for it but his arms weren’t long enough. He struggled to squeeze his head and body under the wooden rungs, cupped the ball in his chubby hand, but then froze and began to wail when he realized he was stuck.
“Here you go, little guy.” I crouched down and helped him back out without hitting his head.
He turned toward me for a minute, and I was afraid he’d cry because he didn’t know me. But instead, he offered a wide grin. “Ball.” In seconds, he was off again, madly throwing and chasing.
Albert gestured toward the couch. “Have a seat, folks.”
We settled side by side and waited for the family to convene.
Jane came out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “The men want to go treasure hunting today.” She tossed a sweet smile at Beckett. “They hope you’ll lead them to the chamber where you found Mason and the blacksmith’s skeleton.”
Robbie emerged with books and papers in his hands. “She’s right. I’m convinced the gold crosses must be hidden in there. Why else have a secret door, right?”
“Right,” I said. “And I never got to investigate the whole chamber. We lost our lights and had to get out of there before Marla came chasing after us for the baby.”
Beckett blinked and in seconds, his face fell.
I felt awful for reminding him of his mother’s final hours of insanity. “Sorry, Beckett.”
He met my eyes. “It’s okay, Gus. I know what she did.”
Albert pointed to Beckett. “The boy says it’s okay for us to investigate. It’s still his property, of course.”
Beckett straightened. “Of course. Knowing what you two have taught me this morning about the history of the McNabbs and Cooks, about the poor Reverend who lost his wife, and of the fate of the blacksmith…how could I ever refuse you?” He went to Jane’s side and took her hand. “Besides. I want to return your family’s treasure to its rightful owners.”
Albert pointed to a collection of flashlights on a chest in the center of the room. “Been rounding up all the batteries and lights I could find. I doubt if the electric still works down in that dungeon after the fire.”
“Nice work,” I said. “We’ll need them.”
Camille looked out the window. “What if the police show up? Who’s going to show them the—” She paused and glanced at Beckett. I knew she’d been going to say “the body,” but she didn’t want to upset the young man again. “Who’s going to explain everything to them?”
Robbie shook his head. “I still can’t get hold of anyone. It’s nuts. I tried to drive down there this morning, but the roads are almost impassable. Spoke to a local on Main Street who said the authorities are still flat out helping to pump basements and rescue folks who need the hospital. A number of telephone poles loosened in the muddy ground and toppled over on Rte. 24, on both sides of the Police Station. So that’s making access even more difficult.”
“It’ll come back to normal eventually,” I said. “And I’m sure if the young jogger got through to them, they’ll be out as soon as they can free someone up.”
Jane spoke up. “I’m not going down into those awful tunnels with Mason. I think it would scare both of us. So I’ll be right here while you men have your fun underground.”
“I can’t blame you.” Camille turned to her. “I’ll stay with you. And if the cops come, I’ll help you handle them.”
Jane flashed a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
Albert picked up a headlamp and strapped it onto his forehead. “Okay, then it’s just us men.”
I took out my phone—which was 100% charged. The simple fact gave me a ridiculously happy feeling. I knew we all depended way too much on electricity, and even more on our gadgets, but I loved my phone. “I’m calling Jack to alert him. The only way down there is to go down through the hole in The Seacrest’s barn floor.”
Scout answered Jack’s phone. “Oh, good morning, Gus. Jack’s not here. You might’ve seen him; he’s in his red kayak. He likes to paddle Paines Creek on the calm mornings.”
I thought back to the array of kayaks I’d seen. There had been one red one out on the bay, and now I guessed it might have been Jack. “I think I did see him, Scout.”
“Are you folks okay? Did the police come yet? Jack filled me in on you two finding Mr. Waterford, and about the fire. It must have been so awful.”
“It was pretty bad. But we still can’t get through to the police.”
“Do you want me to try for you?”
“It couldn’t hurt,” I said. “But we’ve got power back here and the family’s been trying off and on all morning. Robbie even tried to get to the station in person, but the roads were blocked.”
“I heard the village is still under water and still has no operating power or phone lines,” she said. “Boy, did we luck out. Usually the coastal homes get the worst of it.”
“I know, right?” I paused for a second. “Listen, the Cook men and Beckett would like to take another look down in those tunnels. Is it okay if we go through your barn floor again to check it out?”
She laughed. “You actually want to go back down there, Gus?”
I smiled ruefully, although I knew she couldn’t see me. “I do. We think there may be items down there that could settle centuries of unanswered questions.”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“Thank you.”
“Sure. Do you want Jack to come with you?”
“I’d love to have him along, if he’s back in time. We’re heading over now. Is that okay?”
“Sure. I’m just getting Iris up from her nap. The horses are out in their pasture, so it’s okay to leave the boards up when you open the floor again. They won’t be coming in until feeding time tonight, so you have about five hours to do your investigating.”
“Thanks, Scout.”
“My pleasure, Gus. I hope you find some answers.”
I disconnected and returned the phone to my pocket.
I hoped so, too. I wanted to see this whole thing put to bed, to see the haunted look leave Albert’s eyes, to see Robbie finally relax and find peace. More than anything, I wanted to find those elusive gold crosses.
Chapter 40
When we arrived at The Seacrest, Scout stood in front of the big barn door with a woman I didn’t recognize. She looked to be in her fifties. A graying bun nestled neatly at the nape of her neck and she wore a blue housedress that would have been right at home on the “I Love Lucy” show. She pushed Iris’s stroller slowly to and fro, and gave us a warm, welcoming smile.
“Hallo.” Her accent was decidedly German, and for one strange moment I fel
t at home. I missed Siegfried and his still-strong German tones.
Scout made the introductions, and I, in turn, introduced Robbie to her. “And this,” she said with a flourish, “is our Fritzi. She’s Libby’s mom and the grandmother of Libby’s four girls. She’s also Iris’s honorary grandma.”
Fritzi gave a pleased chuckle and hugged Scout sideways. “Ja. I love my little Iris.”
“Pleased to meet you, Fritzi.” I gently shook one work-roughened hand.
“Guten Morgen,” she said.
“My first wife was Deutsch,” I said. “Her name was Elsbeth. I met her when I was five years old, and fell in love with her on the spot." The minute the words came out of my mouth I stopped and wondered what had prompted me to burble on like that. I guessed it was some kind of reaching out, an effort to reconnect to that part of my life that had been so important, so special. So full of Elsbeth and her twin brother Siegfried’s companionship and love.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, sehr gut. What area of Germany did they come from?”
I told her how Elsbeth and Sig’s parents had escaped from East Germany when they were just four years old, how they’d settled beside us on Sullivan Hill in a farm house just a few fields away, and how we’d become instant best friends. She asked questions, and I told her much more than I’d intended. I couldn’t seem to stop the flow.
The others nodded and said hello, but it was clear they were anxious to get down to business.
Albert shifted in place. “Um, Gus? Ready to go down?”
“Sure, Albert. Be there in a sec.” I hated to leave Fritzi; it felt as if we had connected on a very deep level. Talking with her was so comforting, and I didn’t want to let go. I realized I was probably thinking nutty thoughts and tried to stop romanticizing like a fool. Why was I so needy?
She took both of my hands in hers. “You’ll come back to see me, Ja? I want to learn more about your family, Gus.”
Murder on the Brewster Flats Page 17