“You people? Wow. You are jaded, aren’t you?”
“I’m a cop, Mr. Atwood. I have to do things by the book. And right now, that book involves getting you off this case. So, if you’ll excuse me. I’m going back to the station to talk to the chief. We’re going to get this straightened out once and for all.”
Letting Baker stride away without fighting for a better resolution felt much to Rick like a defeat. Logically, he knew she was right. But, deep down inside, the way she operated didn’t mesh with life in Seaside Cove. At least, not the Seaside Cove he and Alex had moved to. He turned to take a final look at The Treasure King before heading back to the B&B, but stopped when he saw Joe Gray approaching.
“Can be a bit of a tiger, can’t she?” Joe asked.
Rick snickered. “You might say that. I guess I’d better get used to life as a plain old civilian. What will be harder is convincing Alex she needs to do the same.”
“Don’t be too hard on her. She’s just being herself.”
“That’s what worries me.” Rick felt the tension building within. He hunched his shoulders, then let them drop. He did not need parenting advice from all of his friends, but that was most likely what would soon happen. “Unfortunately, this isn’t playing with dolls or being in a grunge band—do those even still exist?”
Joe peered at Rick. Shook his head. “No idea. You’ll figure it out. You’re a good dad, and Marquetta is good for her, too.”
The mention of Marquetta reminded Rick of his conversation with Jason. “I have a question for you. It’s about the day the town had the big sendoff for Neal Weiss.”
Joe rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, his jaw tight as he gazed off into the distance. “You really should leave that alone. Let the ghosts of the past have their peace, Rick.”
“I can’t. And Marquetta’s okay with this. We’ve talked. There was a reporter there. His name is Jason Keneally. I’ve talked to him on the phone, and he said you were the one who told him about Neal leaving. There’s a photo of Neal and Captain Jack in his article. They both look pretty grim. There’s someone else in the photo, but that person’s been cropped out. According to Keneally, that person is you.”
“It was.”
“Did Neal and Captain Jack have an argument?”
“It’s not my story to tell. I’m sorry.”
“Both men are dead, Joe. What difference does it make?”
“They did have a discussion. A pretty heated one, but I didn’t hear it. There was something going on between those two, but I don’t know what it was. That’s why it’s not my story to tell. I don’t know what really happened. All I know is that Neal was desperate. That’s why he made the trip. He was too good of a sailor to go out with the seas so unpredictable.”
“When we first got to Seaside Cove, you told me Neal was confident he could find the treasure despite the conditions.”
“I did…that was…at first. He’d changed his mind, but he knew he had to go out anyway.”
Rick’s breathing quickened. Joe’s evasiveness was beginning to irritate him. The man was always willing to gossip—he was often at the center of so many rumors. “Who are you protecting?”
Joe let out a heavy sigh. “You. Marquetta. These secrets you’re trying to dredge up—there’s a reason they were kept secret.”
“Isn’t it time we all stopped hiding from the past? Marquetta’s not hiding from it anymore. And yet, when someone like Pamela Baker comes back, it seems like the past is right there in our faces.”
“I told you the truth. I don’t know the details. What I can tell you is that Captain Jack was one of Neal’s backers. There were three of them. The other two were old Navy buddies of your grandfather’s. They financed much of Neal’s treasure hunting.”
“What?” Rick stared at Joe, his brow furrowing with confusion. “I don’t understand. Captain Jack didn’t have that much money.”
“Back in those days, he did. He was a wealthy man by most standards. And, honestly, for a while, he made good money betting on Neal.”
“You told me before that Neal’s luck changed. You didn’t tell me Captain Jack was helping to finance his expeditions. Is that why Neal went out? Because my grandfather pressured him?”
“I don’t know. When I got there, the discussion was over. What I do know is Captain Jack was beside himself about something. Whether he was part of the reason Neal wouldn’t postpone or not…I don’t know.”
Rick massaged his forehead with his fingertips and struggled to take in the story. “So my grandfather caused Neal’s death?”
“I told you, Rick, I don’t know. Captain Jack was a hard man. He could be very demanding. And Neal had been on a long losing streak. The two were a bad combination. Whatever happened between those men that day was a secret Captain Jack kept until just before he died.”
“Are you saying he told somebody what happened? If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”
Joe rolled his neck in small circles. “He didn’t tell anybody anything. What he did do was write two letters. One to Marquetta, the other to her mother.”
“That makes no sense at all. Marquetta says she knows nothing about what happened. If she’d have gotten such a letter…”
Joe held up his hands. “The letters were never delivered. Captain Jack couldn’t bring himself to do it, so he told me where they were and gave me instructions on when to deliver them.”
Unable to take anymore, Rick growled, “Joe, it’s been fifteen years. When were you supposed to deliver these letters?”
“When Marquetta was ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“To deal with the truth about her father’s death.”
Rick’s breath caught. Now he got it. It was a simple instruction. But, even a year ago, Marquetta hadn’t dealt with her feelings. She’d been afraid of the past—of the truth.
“And you’re not sure she’s ready,” Rick said.
“I’ll answer that after you answer one question for me. And I want you to be truthful. Are you sure she’s ready to deal with whatever your grandfather put in that letter? We could be talking about a dying man’s confessions. So, dig deep, Rick. Are you one-hundred percent positive she’s ready? Or would you rather I just carry this secret with me to my grave?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Alex
AFTER I FINISH telling my journal about Captain Carroll and his possible scam, I climb onto the bed to think. My eyelids are super heavy, so I decide to close them for just a minute. When I wake up, it’s been like thirty minutes! Holy cow. I only take naps when I’m sick, but the break also gave me a new idea. I sit at my computer and send a message to Flynn O’Connor. If anybody’s gonna know about this kind of map, it’s her.
It only takes a couple minutes to get her reply.
—Maybe the map is commercially available. Can you send me a copy?
—For sure.
I attach the photo and send it. While I’m waiting, I start to wonder about what Flynn meant. Commercially available? My eyes get wide. So you could buy it online? Who sells maps? I put that in the search field. I get like millions of responses. Everything on the first page is for travel maps. Nothing for treasure.
So I search for that. Okay, I’m down to three-hundred thousand. That’s when Flynn’s response comes through.
—Definitely a commercial product. I’m looking at a website for a company on the east coast that sells cheap imitations. Might have something. See attached.
When I click on the attachment, a web page opens up. The map I’m looking at is super similar to the one Captain Carroll had. I go back to the photo I took in the cabin and zoom down to the lower right corner. There’s some faint print. I didn’t notice it before. But now that I’m looking right at it, I can make out the company name. It’s the same company! And there’s a map number. I copy the number and put it into the search field on the company’s website.
My jaw drops when the page comes up. It’s totally the same
map. I immediately type a new message to Flynn.
—I found the exact, same map. Here’s the link. You can buy it for $29.99.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Rick
A COLD GUST of wind bit into Rick’s skin. He rubbed his arms with his hands, wishing he’d brought a jacket. He’d walked, almost in a daze, taken a left past Ugly Worm Bait & Tackle, and meandered to the northern tip of the docks. He let his attention follow the sheer line of the coast. To his right, the B&B looked down over the marina, and to the left was the Seaside Cove lighthouse. If he looked west, the blue waters of the cove led out to open ocean, and to a string of shipwrecks that lined the California coast.
More than four centuries had passed since the San Manuel had sunk, and during that time plenty of other ships had joined her. The ocean’s treachery, especially along the coast, was well known to sailors. But what about the treachery of men? Was that why Neal Weiss had died? Because Captain Jack had abandoned him and forced him to take an impossible risk?
Rick stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned away from The Treasure King and the ocean to focus on the question that had brought him to the end of the dock. Why had he not been able to answer Joe’s question? Perhaps it was for the same reason he’d postponed the proposal—his own uncertainty about his and Marquetta’s futures.
Before Pamela Baker had shown up, he thought he’d been certain. But now, he wondered if he’d just been fooling himself. Maybe the problem wasn’t Pamela Baker or this murder or Captain Jack’s dying confession, but something much deeper. Was he ready to accept Marquetta no matter what might be in her past? He shivered against another gust. He’d barely known his grandfather, and had no idea if he was the kind of man who would bare his soul before he died. Did that reticence run in the family? Maybe so, which was one reason Rick didn’t know if he could honestly confront his own fears.
Taking a deep breath, Rick retraced his path to the marina entrance. On his way, he took a final look at The Treasure King. More an older sleek yacht than a dive boat, it seemed an unlikely choice of craft for a treasure hunter. But, at more than a hundred feet in length, he supposed it could travel wherever its owner wanted.
He stopped at the foot of Main Street and looked up the block. Standing there, feeling the ocean breeze at his back and watching the sleepy little town’s main drag, he realized Seaside Cove was where he wanted to be. And Marquetta was the woman he wanted to be with. No ifs, no ands, no buts. He needed to deal with whatever cards Captain Jack had dealt him.
It only took a few minutes to walk to the B&B. When he entered through the front door, Rick closed his eyes and listened. Faint voices came from the dining area—the Carstons, if he was correct. It was nearly five, and he supposed Marquetta might be in the kitchen. Alex was probably in her room, most likely grounded. Did he deal with her first? Or talk things out with Marquetta?
Marquetta. He wanted to find out what she’d said to Alex. As he passed through the dining room, he waved to the Carstons, who were sitting at one of the tables, an array of Chinese takeout boxes before them. The aroma filled the air, and Rick decided that if Marquetta hadn’t started dinner yet, they might do the same.
When he entered through the butler door, he found her sitting alone at the kitchen island, a glass of wine in front of her.
“Hey,” Rick said.
“Hey, yourself.” She gave him a weak smile, then took a sip. “I feel terrible about what happened this afternoon.”
He sat on the stool next to her and stroked her cheek. “It’s not your fault. Alex can be…”
Marquetta raised her eyebrows, smiled. “Impulsive? Frustrating? Too inquisitive for her own good?”
“D. All of the above. She’s a definite challenge. Tell me something. Did Adam show up because you called him?”
“I was afraid of how Pamela might treat Alex.”
“All I can say is thank you. Both of us were on a fast track to jail. Adam shut down Deputy Baker’s efforts to ruin my life and Alex’s, and that wouldn’t have happened without your quick thinking. So, thank you again.” He paused and studied her face. Right time or not, he had to tell her what he’d learned. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. It has to do with the day your father set out on his last voyage.”
“Talk about bad timing.” Marquetta’s eyebrows knitted together as she twirled her wineglass absently. Finally, she asked, “You’ve heard something from that reporter?”
“Yes and no. He remembered the photo, but he didn’t know much about what he captured with his camera.” Rick paused. He scrutinized the curve of Marquetta’s cheeks, the underlying tension in her forehead. Was he making things worse by telling her what he knew? Did he even know anything worth telling? “We’ve talked about not keeping secrets.”
“We shouldn’t. It’s not healthy. You know how I feel about honesty, Rick.”
“So you’d tell me if you didn’t want me looking into your dad’s death?” He paused, again hoping for some direction.
After a long silence during which Marquetta watched him closely, she huffed. “What do you want me to say? That I’m okay with you digging into my past? If you want complete honesty, I don’t know how I feel. It’s confusing. For fifteen years I’ve buried those feelings. I can’t just suddenly forget all those years of pain and hurt.”
Rick took Marquetta’s hands in his. “I’m not expecting you to forget everything you went through. I can’t forget my marriage to Giselle or the years of anguish she caused Alex and me. I’m glad she’s out of our lives, but the memories are still there. I just need to know if you want the answers—no matter what they might be.”
“That sounds ominous. What do you know? Is it bad?”
He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I’m not sure. Apparently, Captain Jack wrote two letters—one to you, the other to your mother. I don’t know the content of those letters other than they’re the last thing Captain Jack wrote. The question I need you to answer is whether or not you want me to find them.”
“How did you hear about these letters?”
“Joe Gray. My grandfather asked him to deliver them when Joe felt you were ready to deal with whatever’s in them.”
Marquetta’s brow creased again and she reached up to retie her ponytail. It was another of those moves he’d come to know so well. The angst on her face was driving him crazy. How had he not seen how difficult this was for her?
“I’ll drop it,” Rick said. “I can’t bear to see you in such turmoil.”
A tear formed in the corner of Marquetta’s eye. She sniffled as she gazed out the windows over the kitchen sink. “You should deal with Alex. I have to think about this.”
Deflated, Rick stood. He leaned forward and kissed Marquetta on the forehead. “How about cheap Chinese for dinner?”
“Good idea. I’ll call it in.”
Taking a deep breath, Rick looked at the ceiling as though he could see Alex’s room from where he stood. “I’ll go talk to her and bring her down when we’re done.”
“Okay.”
Rick took a last look at Marquetta as he exited the butler door. She swiped at her cheek, gave him a weak smile, then turned away. He hurried up to Alex’s room and knocked. Alex was sitting at her computer, but she closed the lid and stuck out her lip in a pout when she saw him.
“You’re here to ground me. Right?”
“I’m here to talk. I also want to know what you’re working on.”
“I was messaging Flynn,” Alex said defensively. “I wanted her to know what I discovered.”
“Which was?”
“Captain Carroll had a map on his wall that shows like tons of shipwrecks off the coast. There’s a huge group of them right out there.” She pointed toward the ocean and pulled up a photo showing a map of the California coast on which there were a large number of x-marks and the names of ships. As she spoke, her tone softened and grew more enthusiastic.
As usual, his daughter’s jump to a co
nclusion was supported by a couple of facts and a great deal of supposition. “And what’s the significance of this map? Why’s it matter to Flynn?”
“Because it totally could have been used to sucker the passengers on The Treasure King.”
“Did this map show the location of the San Manuel?”
“No. But Flynn says that’s what makes it work as a scam. He could like show people all these other shipwrecks and tell them the San Manuel has to be kept super secret.”
Rick cleared his throat. Balancing his role as a parent with that of a consultant to the police was the most difficult part of his arrangement. “So you’re thinking one or more of the passengers found out about this scam and killed Captain Carroll. It’s an interesting theory, but the problem with it is you found the map by using an illegal search. Do you understand what that means?”
Alex’s shoulders, along with her enthusiasm, fell. “This is the part where you get mad at me for breaking the rules. Isn’t it?”
“I suppose so,” Rick said. “But before I do, let me see that photo once again.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Alex
I CAN’T HARDLY believe it. Daddy wants to see the map again? That’s awesome! I hold out the phone so he can see the screen.
“Where did you say this map was?”
“On the wall in Captain Carroll’s room.”
“And you said Flynn agrees this could be the secret map Captain Carroll claimed to have?”
“Totally.”
“Let me think about this. Alex, in philosophy, there’s a saying about the ends justifying the means. Are you familiar with that saying?”
“I’m eleven, Daddy. We don’t study philosophy in school. It’s boring.”
“A lot of adults would agree with you. The thing is, with the law, the ends never justify the means. You must follow proper procedures. And because you trespassed to get this photo, you’ve jeopardized the ability to use the photo or any information that might be derived from it.”
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