Treasure Point Secrets

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Treasure Point Secrets Page 7

by Sarah Varland


  “Exactly.” Shiloh opened her mouth, closed it again, unable to say what she needed to. “But the thing is, since Annie believed the whole case was tied to pirate treasure, the consultant she needed was someone who knew the history of pirate treasure, legends and all of that.”

  Seconds passed in silence. Shiloh shivered again, this time not from the storm but from the reality of her next words.

  “I was the consultant.”

  SEVEN

  Lightning flashed outside, accompanied by a loud crash of thunder, but the drama of the storm was nothing compared to the feelings in his heart at that moment.

  Shiloh was the consultant.

  He sat in silence, feeling her eyes on him, knowing she was waiting for a response but unable to say anything as he processed what he knew. Gradually the puzzle pieces fell into place.

  Shiloh was the consultant. Whoever had killed her cousin was after her.

  The thought made his stomach churn, and he felt the hurt of not knowing, the fear for her, joined by anger. Forget the disagreement they’d had over women on the police force. At least they were trained for that kind of danger. When she’d agreed to be a consultant, Shiloh had been just a history professor. What had she been thinking?

  Thoughts tumbled in Adam’s head faster than he could sort them out. She hadn’t told him. They’d been engaged, about to get married and merge two lives into one, and she hadn’t told him.

  She didn’t trust him.

  Adam looked up to meet her eyes, wishing he could believe that everything he saw revealed in them was true. She looked...regretful.

  “I should have told you.”

  It was little more than a whisper, but it did do a little to ease Adam’s tension. He exhaled. “This changes things.”

  “Yes.”

  “Those men who ran us off the road and vandalized your car—you think they’re the same ones?” But Adam didn’t know why he had asked the question. He’d seen the answer in that threatening note on her car window.

  “Yes.”

  Not caring that they had more history to overcome than a textbook could hold, Adam did the only thing that made sense.

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her. Tight.

  He felt her relax in his embrace immediately. And unlike earlier in the kitchen, she didn’t pull back. Instead she melted into him, leaving no doubt in his mind that he wasn’t the only one wrestling with feelings that went far beyond friendship.

  But they hadn’t been able to make their relationship work under pressure last time. Everything had fallen apart when Annie had been killed. How would it be any different now, especially since he was aware of the fact that Shiloh’s life was in danger?

  No, there were too many things working against them, too many reasons why Adam and Shiloh together again was a bad idea.

  This time Adam was the one who pulled away. As he did so, he saw Shiloh wipe a tear from her eye. Aside from the days following her cousin’s death, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Shiloh cry.

  “What do we do now?”

  Her voice wobbled, and his heart felt as though it could break. She was asking him? He wasn’t law enforcement. Not even close. “The chief should know, Shiloh.”

  She shook her head. “Not yet. Someone’s watching me—you know it as well as I do. And until I find out who’s responsible, I can’t trust anybody.”

  Adam stared at her in disbelief. “You think the chief might be involved with the killers?”

  “No, absolutely not—but anything I say to him runs the risk of being overheard or of someone mentioning something in passing to the wrong person. Besides, there isn’t anything the chief can do that I’m not already doing myself. No one knows this case better than I do. I know all of the background, even details that never made it into the case files because they were just speculations Annie and I made that weren’t proven facts.”

  Adam considered that. “One question. If you’ve been working Annie’s case for five years, why attack you now? I mean, what did you find that made you a target?”

  Shiloh shrugged. “I have no idea.” She raised her gaze to meet his. “I think it’s entirely too coincidental that my life is quiet and then you come to town and suddenly it’s chaos again.”

  “I don’t know anything about this case.”

  “But maybe you coming back into my life gave them the impression that you did.” Shiloh let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m reaching here. But it’s all I’ve got.”

  “Which is why you need another mind working on this. Talk to the chief.”

  She shook her head again. “It’s too risky.”

  Several beats of silence passed as Adam searched his thoughts to see if there was anything else he could do that might help. “Do you think...? I mean, I don’t know how, but do you think I can help?”

  Hope flickered in her gaze. “I do. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind.”

  Wouldn’t mind. That was one way to put it. He’d give anything to help and make all this go away—that was another way to put it.

  “What do we need to do?”

  “I need to walk back through the case in my mind and go over the details. You can be my sounding board and tell me if I’m overlooking anything.”

  “You mean, because you’re so familiar with it.”

  Shiloh nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Why don’t you tell me the basics of the case itself? Then we’ll backtrack, and you can walk me through things. All I know is that it had something to do with pirates.”

  “Not just any pirates.” A slight grin crept across Shiloh’s face, and her eyes lit up like they did when she was talking about history or any good story. “Blackbeard himself.”

  He felt his eyebrows rise.

  “Blackbeard was real,” she continued.

  Apparently, she’d gotten that kind of surprised reaction before.

  “His real name was Edward Teach. He was probably English, though we’re not positive, and we believe he spent a lot of time in the West Indies and on the East Coast of America, especially in the South. Georgia and the Carolinas seemed to be favorite spots for him, and there are so many stories, I couldn’t tell you all of them in a year. Anyway, one of the reasons people are so fascinated by Blackbeard as a person and pirate is that he was kind of a classy pirate. A noble one, if you will. According to the stories, his crew worked willingly, and he hardly ever used violence against anyone, just intimidated them with his name, his ferocious-looking black beard and his reputation for being someone deserving of fear.”

  “So...the case?”

  The look on her face betrayed her frustration.

  Well, sue him; he’d hated history. Besides, she was in danger, and he wanted to cut to the chase and figure out why. Not learn historical facts that may or may not be important. “Sorry.”

  “You have to understand the past before anything that’s happened recently will make sense.”

  Wasn’t that the truth about life? Suddenly, history didn’t seem so useless after all. He nodded and told himself to focus. “Go on.”

  “His ship was named Queen Anne’s Revenge. Historians think they may have found the remains of it off of North Carolina’s coast. But anyway, from this ship he performed all his famous pirate deeds and amassed a huge amount of treasure. At least we speculate that it was huge. Some treasure was found in the wreck of what may have been his ship, but plenty is rumored to be buried all up and down the coast. This is where it ties in to the case.

  “The killers are treasure hunters. That in and of itself isn’t necessarily illegal, as long as they don’t start digging on someone else’s property or government lands. The problem came when they started killing people who got in their way. I don’t know how Annie made the connection, but it mu
st be right since that’s what we were investigating when she was...” Shiloh swallowed hard.

  “We’d done some research on Blackbeard, pinpointed possible locations for the treasure.” Shiloh shook her head. “Annie and I searched all over the coast near Savannah. We went to Tybee Island, even kayaked over to Little Tybee Island. There was nothing there. I’ve been researching more and strategizing since then, but I haven’t searched much yet.”

  “I like the plan of getting to the treasure first. Basically, you want to use it as a trap.”

  She nodded. “Exactly.”

  “So did you figure out where it might be hidden?”

  There was that slow grin again.

  Adam’s heart pounded, whether from nerves, anticipation or downright attraction to the lady delivering the information, he wasn’t sure.

  “Ever heard of a place called Blackbeard Island?”

  “No, but I’d say if I were Blackbeard, hiding my treasure at a place named for me would make all kinds of sense.” He laughed as Shiloh rolled her eyes at his attempt at humor.

  “It’s one of the many barrier islands off the coast of Georgia.” She hesitated. “It’s an ideal hiding spot, and I should have gone before now, but...” A tinge of pink flooded her cheeks. “It’s stupid that I’ve waited. But I didn’t want to go alone.”

  “Sounds like something we should check out. I’m guessing there’s no bridge.”

  She shook her head.

  “Is there a ferry or something that goes to it?”

  “Nope. You have to get to it by boat.”

  Adam’s spirits sank. He should have known it wouldn’t be this easy. He looked up at Shiloh and frowned at the smile in her expression. “What? You’ve already figured out a way to get us there?”

  “I thought we’d take my boat.”

  He blinked. “You have a boat? Can I see it?”

  “Sure.” Shiloh stood and motioned for him to follow her as she led him to the garage. “Oh, and, Adam?” She tossed the words over her shoulder.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t get any ideas—I’m driving.”

  He was still laughing when he drove home half an hour later.

  He wasn’t laughing, however, when he listened to the voice mail he’d gotten while he’d been at Shiloh’s. He must not have heard his phone ring. It was Hal Smith, calling to comment on the amount of time that Adam had spent at Shiloh’s house. The man didn’t come right out and say it, but he seemed disturbed that Adam had spent so long there.

  It made him uncomfortable to think the deacons had been watching him, knew where he’d had dinner, but he guessed that was why people referred to ministry life as the “fishbowl.” He’d done nothing wrong, so he tried to push the entire issue out of his mind.

  But it lingered there as he got ready for bed. There was no reason for his dinner with a friend to bother anyone. That didn’t change the fact that it had. And Adam needed the good opinion of his deacons to keep his job, to minister to the church members and to make an impact on the community.

  But Shiloh needed his help, too. As long as they were only friends, that couldn’t affect the deacons or the congregation members at all. That was what Adam told himself as he laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes. If only the feeling of uneasiness in his gut would listen.

  * * *

  Shiloh lay in bed hours later, unable to sleep but feeling lighter in her spirit than she had in weeks. Years, maybe. Telling Adam had been the right choice. She was sure.

  She nestled her face deeper into her pillow as she thought about his arms around her, how tightly he’d held her as she had cried. It made the reasons she’d broken up with him seem unimportant, but they weren’t...were they? When she’d made the decision to go into police training, she’d needed his support, his belief that she could do this. But when she’d counted on him to speak up, she’d only gotten silence.

  And a thoroughly shattered heart.

  Thunder rumbled low in the distance, the remnants of the summer storm that had chased them inside. The worst of it was over, though, so the gentle rumbles were almost comforting. They were reminders of how much better things had gotten, even in the past several hours. She and Adam finally had a plan, and that was doing wonders to ease her unsettledness.

  Of course, she had no idea when they’d actually be able to act on their plan. The next few days would be busy for Adam. Word that he’d been accepted at the police department had gotten around town, and people were more willing to give this “newcomer” a chance. Adam’s effort to win the trust of the townspeople impressed Shiloh. He genuinely cared about them and wanted to be a help to them. The way he lived out his faith in the love he showed to these people he barely knew...it was different than any pastor she’d known before. More passionate, more humble.

  Adam had explained that he had several meetings scheduled but after that would do the best he could to be available during the hours she had off so they could work on the case. First she’d do more online research and make sure they both understood all the details that could figure into their physical search. Then they’d make a trip to Blackbeard Island.

  Shiloh’s heart raced. Blackbeard Island wasn’t far. What if the people who were after her had set up a base for their operations here? They’d been lying low since the murders in Savannah, at least as far as she could tell. Maybe they’d just been working their way down the coast and had finally ended up here.

  This sleepy coastal town of Treasure Point was Shiloh’s safe haven, and she had embraced it over the past several years. Surely criminals would stick out like a sore thumb here. The men who had been harassing her must be living out of town somewhere and then coming to Treasure Point...but why?

  Some of the pieces still felt as if they were missing, yet Shiloh was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. It was either get up and make more coffee or worry about it tomorrow.

  Before she could make a conscious decision, her eyes drifted shut, and Shiloh was powerless to stop sleep from overtaking her.

  * * *

  Her bedroom was bathed in darkness and moonlight when Shiloh’s eyes snapped open. The night was still and quiet, and as far as she could tell, she’d been sleeping peacefully.

  She lay there for another minute, but sleep wouldn’t return. Instead the drowsiness of hours earlier had been replaced by an overwhelming feeling of alertness.

  Something wasn’t right.

  She pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out her Glock. She held it low at her side, praying she wouldn’t have to use it. It wasn’t unusual for her to wake up in the middle of the night; she hadn’t slept well since she’d started this case five years ago, but this felt different.

  She opened her bedroom door, wincing as it let out a low creak. Usually she appreciated the warning sound it gave—should someone try to break into her room while she was asleep. The noise was less appealing when it let an intruder know she was coming out.

  The hallway was clear, nothing unusual or out of place. Shiloh continued to sweep the house as thoroughly as she would have done for a civilian. The guest bedroom and both bathrooms were clear. That was half of the house.

  She entered the living room slowly, easing one foot in front of the other. The big room and its openness to the kitchen were two of the reasons she’d chosen this house. She loved how it looked. In the daylight. At night it was a vast span of unprotected square footage to cover. Perfect for someone hiding in the shadows to take a shot at her without her ever seeing them.

  She scanned the room, pushing back her fear and inspecting every possible hiding place. Everything was as it should have been. Except...

  Every sense on alert, she walked to her desk. Nothing was messy. In fact, everything was too tidy, and
there were neat piles of papers where once there had been haphazard stacks. Her pulse quickened. She knew better than to keep anything important, professionally or personally, on or in the desk. It was the first place someone seeking information would check. But the fact that she suspected someone had been there looking...in her house, while she slept...

  It scared her.

  Shiloh flipped on a light, knowing she was done sleeping for the night, even if the clock on the wall read only 3:52 a.m. She was going to give this place another check. Better to be safe than sorry. She scanned the living room again, this time knowing she was looking for signs of anything being disturbed. She squinted a little and cocked her head.

  Her bookshelf. Something didn’t seem right there. Had they expected her to hide something important between the books? Maybe have one of those hollow books? She didn’t, so she knew that search would have come up empty. She surveyed the books once more. She couldn’t pinpoint what looked off about them but knew to trust her instincts. If she had harbored any doubt that someone had been here, she was unable to now.

  She cleared the kitchen and laundry room for the second time. Walking back into the living room, alarmed at the knowledge that someone had been here, Shiloh realized something else was wrong. She paused; the outside noises she could usually hear—crickets, frogs—were louder than when she’d walked through this room before. And then she caught an odd hint of light out of the corner of her eye.

  Moonlight spilled onto the floor of the entryway. The front door, which had been shut when she’d walked through the first time, stood wide open.

  Someone had still been in her house while she’d been checking things. Watching her from somewhere in the darkness.

  Shiloh shivered, overcome by a chill that went straight to her bones.

  EIGHT

  Adam knocked on Shiloh’s door and then rubbed sweaty palms against his pants. He hadn’t been to the police station yet today. One of his new congregation members had been rushed to the hospital. It had turned out to be nothing more than heartburn, but Adam had gone to visit anyway. Just to show his support. His dad had drilled into him from an early age the importance of being involved in his church members’ lives, of being there for them.

 

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