by Mark Romang
“I don’t see a doorknob anywhere,” Annie said as she inched forward, scanning the walls.
“I’m thinking there won’t be one. A secret room has to have a hidden door.” Rafter set his longbow down. “We’re going to have to run our hands along the wall and feel for anomalies. Bobby and Rose fell into the room, so I assume the hidden door swings inward.”
“That makes sense,” Annie said as she ran a hand along the wall.
“Look for seams, probably next to the vertical trim pieces. Or push in on the trim boards.”
“I know this sounds crazy, but my heart is pounding, Jon. This is exciting.”
“Mine, too.” Rafter mumbled. He didn’t think it necessary to tell Annie his heart pounded because of the looming showdown with the Charbonneaus, and not from looking for a secret room.
Annie stopped in her tracks. “I just felt the wall give a bit.”
Rafter joined her. “Here, hold the flashlight, will you?”
Annie took the light and aimed it on the spot in question. “Right there is where my hand was when the wall began to give.”
Rafter examined the wall. He saw no seam or anything else that might indicate a hidden door. He turned and held out a hand to Annie. He smiled. “I think the key to opening the wall is to make out with a pretty girl.”
Annie rolled her eyes and stepped closer to him. “You really want to make out with me now? I’m all sweaty.”
“Anytime is good for me, Babe,” Rafter said.
Annie shook her head in disbelief, but then giggled. “Okay, you crazy man,” she said and lifted her face to meet his.
Their lips came together shyly at first, but then they soon kissed hungrily like Rose and Bobby had many years ago. Rafter pulled Annie closer, enjoying the intimacy of her embrace, the curves of her body pressing against his. As they kissed, he pushed gently against the wall with their combined weight. The wall gave way and revolved inward. The secret room appeared.
Annie pulled away. She shone the flashlight into the room. And then they walked inside. “It’s empty, Jon. The box is gone,” she said breathlessly.
“The Charbonneau brothers are going to be disappointed. Someone else has already found it.”
“Or maybe someone moved it after Rose and Bobby found it,” Annie speculated. “It could still be here somewhere.” She squatted down and shone the flashlight across the floor. “Whoever moved the box did it a long time ago. The dust on the floor hasn’t been disturbed in a long, long time.”
Rafter picked up the longbow. “I think we’ve seen all there is to see here. Let’s go down the servant’s staircase to the pantry. Maybe we can break out of here. But let’s go slow. If a step should creak I don’t want anyone to hear it.”
Annie stood up and looked at his face, zeroing in on his eyes. Her eyebrows tilted into a scowl. “I’ve seen that look in your eyes before, Jon. You wore it when you rescued Gabby Witherspoon and me from the Boudreaux fishing shack. It’s the look you have when you’re about to go into your action hero mode.”
“It may come to a fight, Annie. The police aren’t even aware of our situation. We have no way to contact them. They can’t help us.”
Annie poked him gently in the chest. “You pushed your luck the last time, Jon. You almost died.”
“I’m ready to die protecting you, Annie. I love you that much.”
“You’re not leaving me a widow. If someone has to die, we both die together.”
Rafter stepped forward and embraced his wife, did his best to comfort and reassure her that everything would work out. And yet he could use some assurance himself. He harbored the same doubts as Annie. The Charbonneau brothers didn’t seem like coldblooded killers. But treasure, especially gold, can change a person. “God is on our side, Annie. And no matter how this turns out, nothing can separate us from His love. He’s always with us.”
“I know…but it’s so hard believing that sometimes. Right now it doesn’t seem like God is with us at all.”
Rafter caressed her hair. “It isn’t easy trusting God. But no one ever said it would be. I struggle with my faith all the time.”
“But why does God keep allowing this to happen to us? We’re like magnets for criminals.”
Rafter shrugged. “Maybe it’s our calling to get rid of Louisiana’s bad apples.”
“I want a different calling—a peaceful one.”
“Well, at least this time we don’t have to contend with a hurricane.”
“I guess that is the one positive in all this,” Annie said with a sigh.
“I think a prayer is in order. We need some supernatural guidance,” Rafter said.
“I agree.” Annie bowed her head and closed her eyes. Rafter held her hands and started to pray. “Dear God, you know our circumstances and you know how this will all turn out. We place our lives into your hands. I ask you to give us strength and courage. Please help us to think clearly. Foil the plans of Arcadias and his brother. You gave us this house, and you know every board in it. If it’s your will, help us to escape this house. Show us how to get out undetected. Please make something beautiful come out of this ugly situation. In Christ’s name I pray, amen.”
They headed down the narrow staircase, dodging the cobweb drapery and treading lightly on the steps, the flashlight working hard to illuminate their way. Despite their tiptoeing efforts, the steps creaked in places, slowing their descent. A dozen seconds later they negotiated the last step.
Rafter’s head and shoulders sank when the flashlight revealed a dead-end. A formidable concrete wall blocked their way into the pantry. “Whoever removed the box from the secret room must’ve also poured this concrete wall. We’re not getting into the pantry,” he said in a low voice.
Annie ran a hand along the concrete. “This stinks. We’re trapped. What do we do now?”
“We’re revert back to plan A. We go back to the attic and try to find a way through the roof.”
“I don’t think there is a way through the roof, Jon. We need some kind of saw to do it. And I don’t think there’s one up there.”
“Maybe you should read more entries from Rose’s journal. Maybe the journal will show us the way out.”
Annie nodded. “Okay, if nothing else it’s an entertaining read.”
They retraced their steps, walking as if on eggshells to avoid making the steps creak. A few seconds later they reentered the attic. Annie sat down in a chair, while Rafter leaned up against the mammoth brick chimney that jutted into the attic, his mind churning for answers.
Annie flipped open the journal to the next entry. She looked up at him. “Are you ready?”
“I’m ready.”
Annie began to read aloud.
Chapter 13
Whitcomb plantation—1942
Her bare feet dangling over the arm of the porch swing, and her head lying in Bobby’s lap, Rose rested as a ceiling fan lazily stirred air over their heads. Bobby stroked her hair gently. The caressing relaxed her to the point she felt she would drift off to sleep at any moment.
“Who else knew we went up the servant’s staircase other than your maid? Do you think she told your parents?” Bobby asked.
“What does it matter? We’re not in trouble?”
“But don’t you think it’s odd? Two days after the party we snuck back up there and the box was gone? Someone knew we found it. And someone didn’t want us to find it again.”
Rose sat up. She yawned and looked at her boyfriend. “It wasn’t Mary who told. It was me. I talked to mother about it.”
“Why did you tell her? Was your conscience getting to you?”
“I don’t know, maybe a little. I suppose I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
“I know how you feel, Rose. I can’t stop thinking about the box either. So what did your mother say when you told her?”
Rose stretched her arms. She then held out a hand toward Bobby. “Let’s go for a walk, you want to?”
Bobby nodded and stood up.
He took her hand. They walked down the gallery steps and onto the grass. They followed the long driveway, hemmed in by magnolia and live oak trees for nearly one-hundred yards. “You never answered my question, Rose.”
Rose cast a sideways glance at Bobby. “I think you’re more interested in this treasure box than me.”
“I’m just curious is all, no different than you.”
“I saw the briefest hint of alarm flash across my mother’s face. And then she just kind of giggled a little bit. She winked at me and said, ‘Oh, you just found your great-great grandfather’s pirate treasure is all.’”
“I knew it, Rose. I knew that box was some kind of treasure chest. And did you see the Spanish writing carved onto the chest? I bet Spanish gold is inside it,” Bobby said excitedly. “So what did you say to your mother then?”
Rose shrugged. “I don’t remember exactly. I pressed her some more on what was inside the box. And she winked at me again and said, ‘Wasn’t that kind of Mr. Lafitte to bury his fortune on this property so Rutherford could find it?’”
“This is unbelievable, Rose,” Bobby said, beaming from ear to ear.
“You can’t tell anyone. Promise me you won’t. People will break into our house to look for it. And dig holes all over our yard.”
“I swear I won’t tell anyone, Rose. It’s our secret. Everything about the night when we found the secret room was amazing. I’ll think of that night often when I’m fighting the Krauts.”
“Did you have to bring the war up? What is it with violence and war that fascinates men and boys so much?”
Bobby led her over to an enormous live oak tree. Thick and twisted limbs jutted out and reached for the southern sky. Bobby leaned against the immense trunk. “Rose, we have to stand up against Hitler. We can’t ignore him while he takes over the world one country at a time. He’s evil, Rose, pure evil. Someone or some country needs to kill him.”
“Killing is so barbaric.”
“Of course it is, Rose. But Hitler is committing unspeakable atrocities against innocent people. His death is warranted.”
“What time does your bus leave tomorrow morning for basic training in Miami Beach?”
“Seven o’clock.”
“Can I ride with you and your parents to the bus station in Baton Rouge?”
“Sure, I’d like that. But you’ll have to get up early.”
“I can make myself get up. What time are you leaving?”
“Six o’clock sharp.”
“I’ll be there. Nothing can stop me.” Rose said. And then she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
****
Rafter let out a low whistle after Annie closed the journal. “You really think the box has Jean Lafitte treasure in it? It seems so farfetched.”
“I don’t know, could be. Treasure hunters have been hunting for Lafitte’s fortune for who knows how long. Apparently he stashed his money all over Louisiana. I see people with metal detectors all the time,” Annie said.
“But how did Arcadias know the treasure might be here? Something tipped him off to it. We live here for crying out loud, and we never would’ve known about it had you not found Rose’s journal.”
“That’s a good question, Jon. And I don’t know the answer. At least we know what the Charbonneaus are after now.”
His left leg stiffening up, Rafter shifted his stance. His left heel bumped a brick on the chimney. Rafter heard a scraping sound. He bent down and saw that mortar had crumbled, allowing a brick to come loose. He looked over at Annie. “I think God might be showing me a way out of here.”
Annie stared back at him, bewilderment in her eyes.
Rafter got down on his hands and knees and examined the bricks near the attic floor. He tested several of them and found many more that were loose, the mortar crumbling in several spots. He stood up and grinned. “For once I’m glad something is falling apart on this old house.”
“So, Houdini, have you got something up your sleeve I don’t know about?” Annie asked.
Rafter nodded. “If I can remove enough bricks to make a sufficient hole, we can climb up the chimney to the roof.”
“I’m not following, Jon. How can we scale the inside of the chimney?”
“It’s easy. There are rungs bolted into the bricks inside the chimney. We climb up them like we’re on a ladder.”
“How do you know rungs are inside the chimney? And what about the chimney cap? We’re a little bit bigger than squirrels.”
“Before you arrived here and swept me off my feet, Rose asked me to clean the chimney. I discovered the rungs then. I don’t know why they are there. Maybe they were installed to help with the cleaning process. But we can use them.”
“What about the chimney cap?” Annie persisted.
The chimney cap is about twenty inches above the chimney. I think we can fit through. The only thing that might cause issue is an iron grate affixed to the chimney under the cap. But I think the bolts holding the grate in place are so corroded and loose I can pry it off, or maybe even push it off.”
“Maybe God is with us here in the attic after all.”
“Of course He is. He’s living in our hearts. So He has to be here with us.”
“But you just said a prayer asking God to show us a way out of the attic. Do you really think He answered you that quickly? God isn’t a genie in a bottle that immediately grants us wishes whenever we ask.”
“Sometimes God answers my prayers right away. And then there are many times when He just seems to collect my prayers. But I’ve found that if I can shove aside all distractions and just force myself to be still, I can feel God’s presence guiding and leading me. And oftentimes just knowing God is forging ahead of me and protecting my flanks from behind is enough.”
“I guess you’re more perceptive than me, Jon.”
“You’re being modest, Annie. Your past as an FBI agent required you to be perceptive. You’re just new to the faith. It will come in time.”
“So you think God led you to lean up against the chimney so you could discover loose bricks?”
Rafter nodded. “There’s plenty of furniture up here I could’ve parked my rump on. Yet for some reason I stood and leaned against the chimney. Miracles happen all the time, Babe. They don’t have to earthshattering. They can be small.”
“Maybe we should pray you up a pry bar?”
“Actually, when I was up here months ago and left the flashlight I think I also left behind a screwdriver. I might be able to use it to dislodge the bricks.” Rafter hurried over to where he’d retrieved the flashlight earlier. He scanned the area close by. Annie came over and helped him look.
After a few minutes of fruitless hunting he was about to give up the search. But then Annie looked inside a chest of drawers and found the screwdriver lying next to a neatly folded American flag. She grinned as she handed it to him. “I prayed that God would help me find it. So would you count that as an answered prayer?”
Rafter took the flat-bladed screwdriver. “I sure would. Sometimes you just have to take things on faith and say, ‘that was a “God thing” that just happened there.’” Rafter headed back to the chimney, determined to create an escape hole. This was their best chance at leaving the house. He had to make it work. And he needed to do it quickly.
Rafter dropped to his knees and started chipping at the crumbling mortar. “Remind me to fix these bricks when this is all over. We’ll asphyxiate our guests if I forget.”
Annie came over and observed him work. “You need a hammer to help you with the chipping,” she said.
“A hammer would definitely help. Do you know where one is?”
“Not off the top of my head. But I’ll go snoop around for one. Maybe you left a hammer up here too.”
“You’re funny. Before you go can you give the Victor Talking Machine a few cranks? I don’t want the Charbonneaus to hear me chipping and become suspicious.”
Annie headed for the phonograph. “One, very old love song comin
g up, Jon.”
Chapter 14
As twilight settled over the plantation house and grounds, Damien Charbonneau turned off his metal detector. He’d just finished scanning the entire yard, a sizeable feat. Over the past two hours he’d dug up a few interesting objects for sure: an old brooch, some buttons from a civil war military uniform, and a pair of black-powder bullets.
But what he wanted to find most eluded him and dejection took a firm hold on his resolve. Finding the treasure looked more and more like a fantasy that would never come true.
Damien stood wearily near the carriage house. I suppose I should take a look in there, he thought, eyeing the structure.
He leaned the metal detector against the carriage house and next to the door. “Why did I let Arcadias talk me into this stunt?” he grumbled aloud.
He knew the answer to his question. It just hurt his pride to confess the answer. It all came down to making a sizable chunk of money. He’d poured concrete for two decades now, barely making ends meet. And his body couldn’t hack the physical strain any longer. So after Arcadias showed him the small iron box with all the gold coins in it, as well as the note pinpointing where to find a much larger stash, he jumped at the chance.
Arcadias had practically guaranteed him a two-million-dollar share in the treasure. The thought of that much money and the realization he would never again have to pour concrete, influenced his rationale.
As he often did on a daily basis, Damien thought of his late father. Joe Charbonneau was likely turning over in his grave. He’d raised his two boys to work hard and abide by the law, not break it. Yet a prison cell likely awaited them both.
Damien shook his head. Joe had never shown much affection to his sons, but he did seem to favor Arcadias, who had always been the smart one. Joe worked three jobs to put Arcadias through college. Even as a child, Arcadias preferred reading over playing outside with other kids. And when he did put down his books to play with other kids he always insisted on playing pirates. It almost seemed like it was Arcadias’s fate to one day hunt for pirate treasure.