Secrets of the Treasure King

by Terry Ambrose

  “He’s not there,” I say.

  “Let’s do this before I lose my nerve.”

  Marquetta opens the top drawer of the desk where my dad keeps a key to his office for emergencies. We’ve never had an actual emergency, but I suppose this kind of is. She clutches the key in her hand, and we go up the stairs. My dad’s office is right next to my room.

  Marquetta knocks on the door and gives me a weak smile. “Just in case.”

  I give her two thumbs up and look at the doorknob. She puts the key in the lock, turns it, and pushes. I’ve been in my dad’s office lots of times, but he’s always been there. Without him in the room, it feels different. All the wood on the walls reminds me of an old museum.

  “Have you ever been in this room by yourself?” I ask.

  “Of course. When I was your age, sometimes Captain Jack would let me come in here after school. He and my mom were doing the same sorts of things that we do now. I remember one time, it was a hot day in September. My mom had a doctor’s appointment that afternoon, so Captain Jack left me here while he worked around the B&B. There was almost no breeze, so the room got very stuffy. My eyelids were so heavy that I curled up on the sofa and took a nap. When I woke up, he was sitting at his desk pretending to read a book.”

  “Pretending? What was he really doing?”

  Marquetta lets out a little laugh. “He was taking a nap. His chin was on his chest and he was snoring.”

  We both laugh, then Marquetta crosses the room to the framed Seaside Cove map hanging on the wall. “Joe Gray said this is where Captain Jack hid the letters.” She fingers the gold necklace me and Daddy gave her as she stares at the map. Takes a breath. Then she lifts it off the wall and turns it over.

  It looks like any other framed picture except that it’s got two sand-colored envelopes taped to the back. I recognize the paper. It’s called linen, and it’s the same kind of paper the B&B still uses, but this looks a lot older. The envelope on top has Marquetta’s name written in a cursive style. The handwriting flows from one letter to the next. The letters are all perfectly formed. It’s a lot like Marquetta’s writing, but it can’t be hers. She didn’t know about the letters.

  “That’s Captain Jack’s writing,” she says. “He had perfect penmanship.”

  My heart is racing as we look at the envelopes. “Do you think the other one’s to your mom like Mr. Gray said?”

  Marquetta takes a deep breath. She swallows. “Let’s find out.”

  Slowly, she pulls the tape from the cardboard backing on the map. She winces when some of the top cardboard layer pulls off with the tape. “Darn it. I was hoping that wouldn’t happen.”

  “It’s only the back. Right? It’s okay.”

  “That’s true, but it still feels like I’m defacing a part of history.”

  “But they’re your letters.”

  Marquetta pulls off the last of the tape and rolls it in a ball. She tosses the wad into the trash can and lays the two letters on the desk. Just like Mr. Gray said, the second letter is addressed to Madeline Weiss.

  “Is that your mom?”

  “Yes, Sweetie. Her name is Madeline. And she’s going to love you as much as I do.”

  “She’s got a pretty name.” Wow. I’m going to have a Grandma Madeline. “Are you gonna open both letters?”

  Marquetta doesn’t answer me. Her eyes are super teary, but she blinks them back and reaches for the envelope with her name on it.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Rick

  CHRISTOPHER JENKS NOT only wanted photos of the B&B, but the fountains and gardens. Though Rick was proud of the immaculate grounds, he found the man’s procrastination irritating. He wanted to indulge Jenks to avoid losing his cooperation, but he also wanted to move Jenks along. Every now and again, he spotted Adam at the French doors, who waved his hand in small circles, a subtle hint for Rick to speed things up.

  “Mr. Jenks, I’m so happy you find our grounds so interesting, but Chief Cunningham has been waiting for us and we shouldn’t be wasting his time. You’re welcome to come back out here after he has a chance to review the photos. Maybe after you’ve charged your phone.”

  “Okay, let me get this last shot.” Jenks squatted near the fountain on the south side of the house everyone referred to as the Three Maidens Fountain. He appeared to be in no hurry, but then grumbled and held his phone in the shade so he could see the screen. “Rats. My battery just died.”

  Irritated that the man’s delays had brought them to this point, Rick said curtly, “Come on, Mr. Jenks. Let’s see what we can do about a power source.” He turned and led the way to the French doors where Adam stood shaking his head.

  As Rick passed Adam, he spoke low enough so only his friend could hear. “Thank goodness. He ran out of juice.” In a louder voice, Rick announced that he was going to get the coffee. He darted through the butler door to the dining room coffee station. Balancing three cups on a tray, he returned to the kitchen. Jenks and Adam were sitting at the island talking. Rick set down the tray and went to the drawer where they kept a phone charging cord. After plugging in the phone, the display eventually lit up.

  “So what kind of photos do you want to see?” Jenks asked as he punched in his security code. “I’m guessing you don’t care about the ones I shoot for work.”

  “No,” Adam said. “We want to see people.”

  Rick signaled his agreement and added, “Let’s qualify that. Candid people photos.”

  “That’s the only kind I shoot,” Jenks said smugly. “Waste of time and effort when everyone’s standing there with a pasted-on smile.” Jenks tapped a few times on his screen, then tried to pass the phone to Adam. “Cord’s not long enough.”

  The two men switched places, and Rick stood directly behind Adam, who was already flipping through images. When he got to the third photo of Gavin Mancini and Heather Sanna together, he stopped and examined it closely. He turned the screen so Jenks could see it.

  “Oh, yeah. Those two. Never could quite figure out what was going on. Heather was supposedly with the captain, but she sure did spend a lot of time around Gavin. I never caught them doing anything, but the way he sometimes looked at her? It struck me as odd.”

  In the next photo, Will Shelley was sitting in the captain’s chair on the bridge. He was hunched over a screen and keyboard.

  “That was taken the day we arrived in Seaside Cove. Captain Carroll and Heather had gone into town and Gavin was busy working on the engine. That was the reason we came here. An engine anomaly. Sounded like BS to all of us. The boat was running just fine, but Carroll insisted Gavin work on it while he was off galavanting around with Heather.”

  Rick pointed at the photo. “What’s Mr. Shelley doing?”

  “He was trying to hack the GPS. Guy was obsessed with knowing where The Treasure King had been before it picked us up in Long Beach. He never did realize I was there.”

  Rick and Adam exchanged a frown. Rick said, “When I talked to him, he never mentioned that interest.”

  “He wouldn’t,” Jenks said. “Will holds his cards very close. He’s in everybody’s business, but nobody knows his.”

  Interesting, thought Rick. Depending on who you talked to, Will Shelley had either been a mediator or a meddler. “How would you describe his interactions with the others?”

  “You mean was he a buttinsky?” Jenks laughed. “Yeah. He’s one of those people who likes to stir the pot. Just when things were settling down, Will’s there to rile everyone up.”

  Adam regarded Jenks for several seconds. “Why were you following him?”

  “What?”

  “It’s a simple question. Why were you following Will Shelley?”

  Jenks turned away and made an odd noise, then cleared his throat. “Okay, Ed kind of thought if Will was going to find something, we should all share in it.”

  “Ed Silverstein?” Adam asked.

  “He kind of...clashed a few times with Will.”

  “So you we
re following Will because Ed thought he was up to something? And that something was hacking the GPS?” Rick let his question hang in the air.

  “Look, I thought you guys just wanted to see some of my photos. I don’t really like the idea of…” Jenks stopped and gritted his teeth.

  Rick was about to offer ‘squealing’ as the word Jenks had left off, but the man continued before he could say it.

  “You know what? None of us will ever see anything now. Will was always sticking his nose in other people’s business and that grated on Ed’s nerves. Ed wanted to get rid of Will, and the only way he could see to do that was to have Captain Carroll throw him off the boat. Ed tricked Will into trying to hack the system, then asked me to shadow him. I was supposed to get the evidence to prove he was trying to get into the boat’s systems. Ed was going to talk to Carroll that night. He figured with my photo of Will on the bridge, it was a sure thing.”

  Rick recalled the moment Captain Carroll had shown up at the Crooked Mast. It was as though he’d been drinking heavily. Had Ed talked with him and that’s why he started drinking? Or did they meet up later and things went badly? “Did Ed talk with the captain?”

  “I don’t know. Really. I don’t. He hasn’t said anything.”

  “Did Shelley ever get into the GPS?” Adam asked.

  “I doubt it. It’s not like he was an expert or anything.”

  Adam jotted a quick note, then looked at Jenks. “Did Mr. Silverstein know where the dive equipment was located?”

  “We all did. It was supposed to be a locked room, but the lock was broken.”

  “So anyone could have entered the room?” Adam asked.

  “That’s right. You could check easy enough. Just look at the security video.”

  Adam grimaced, and Rick felt his frustration. They were having zero luck with the District Attorney. If only they could get a warrant, they could probably solve this case.

  “Adam? Did Deputy Baker dust for fingerprints?”

  “She was able to get permission from the crew members to dust the cabinet. She found at least seven sets of prints, maybe eight. One was a partial. In addition to the two crew members and Captain Carroll, there were prints for four other individuals.” Adam cut his eyes in the direction of Jenks.

  Rick understood immediately. Adam didn’t want to reveal who those prints belonged to. If he even knew.

  “I’m sure you found mine on there,” Jenks said. “There also would have been prints for Will and Ed and maybe Matthew. We were all in there at one point or another. There were life jackets in that room as well. And on the first day out, the captain had us all do a drill with the dive equipment. You’d find prints for almost anyone on board if you looked hard enough.”

  Adam returned to flicking through photos on the screen, but from the look on his face, Rick suspected they’d just hit on a big part of the problem with the DA. Too many suspects and too few ways to prove anything with what they might find.

  “I’d like copies of some of those photos. Is that okay, Mr. Jenks?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  Adam pulled out his phone, and they started transferring the photos Adam wanted. While the photos transferred, Adam looked at Rick. “We can try talking to Will Shelley again. I think maybe there’s a flaw in his alibi.” He looked at Jenks and narrowed his gaze. “As well as yours. How about you tell us where you really were between six and nine?”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Alex

  MY HEART RACES just watching Marquetta hold the envelope in her hands. Her fingers are trembling. I’ve never seen her like this before, but I get it. She’s waited like her whole, entire life to find out what happened to her dad.

  She sits down in one of the chairs and pulls the other one close. I sit next to her. She opens the envelope and we read the letter from Captain Jack together.

  March 11, 2014

  My dearest Marquetta,

  You know me as a man of few words. However, as I approach my final hours, there are so many things I must tell you. I, however, could not bear the thought of you hating me in these last few days, so I have burdened Joe Gray with the delivery of this letter. I trust he will dispatch his duties when, and if, he considers you ready to hear what it contains.

  Thirteen years ago, I watched you on the docks when your father set out to sea on his final voyage. It broke my heart to see this precious little girl standing in the wind and rain alone waving goodbye to her daddy. I’ve shed few tears in my life. I shed many that day.

  It was never my intention to lie, but the burden weighed heavily on my soul. My only light was the love I received from you. The thought of jeopardizing our relationship was more than I could bear, so I held my secret in. By the time you were twelve, my load was so great I could do no more than leave the truth buried in the past.

  On the morning your father set sail, I was there on the docks. I don’t know if you ever saw me, but your father and I argued over him leaving in such foul weather. It wasn’t until years later that I learned you believed he valued a treasure hunt more than you. Nothing could be further from the truth. You were precious to him, and he left because of his dedication to you and your mother. Your mother knows their financial condition at the time. I will only say it was dire.

  This is the second letter I’ve written today. The first was to your mother. I owed her an explanation, too. If I had been stronger, I would have done more to assuage your pain. Instead, I chose the same path I have always taken. It’s the one that has led me to hurt those I cared most about.

  Please accept my deepest apologies for the hurt I caused you,

  Captain Jack

  Marquetta folds the letter and puts it back in the envelope. Her chin is quivering and her eyes are red. “He didn’t say,” she croaks.

  We both look at the letter addressed to Marquetta’s mom, then I look at her. “Maybe it’s in the other one.”

  She nods. Picks up the second envelope. Holds it to her heart.

  “Your mom would want you to know, right?”

  “I’ve never opened mail addressed to someone else. You see what a bad influence you are on me?” Marquetta smiles.

  I lean against her. She kisses the top of my head. She’s gonna be my mom. We can be like this forever and ever. A tear dribbles down my nose and drips on Marquetta’s arm.

  She kisses me again and wipes my cheek with her fingers. “It’s okay, Sweetie.” She takes a deep breath and opens the second envelope.

  March 11, 2014

  Dear Madeline,

  I have just been told by the doctor that I have only a few days left. Why I’m writing this letter, I do not know. I also do not know if you will ever read these words. I’ve made so many mistakes in my life. I’ve driven away those I loved, chased those I could not have, and never been a man prone to second-guessing myself or apologizing. The reality of death, however, has revealed to me the pain I have caused others. In most cases, even that of my own family, I must face another reality—my nearly perpetual absence was driven less by my love of the sea than by my fear of baring my soul to those I loved.

  You and Neal, however, were my second chance. You both took me into your lives willingly and wholeheartedly. And Marquetta, dear Marquetta. She treated me as though I were her own grandfather. Neal once told me that he was smitten from the first moment he saw her face. I understood that feeling the first time she sat on my knee at the B&B.

  Many times after his death you asked me why Neal chose to sail in such foul weather. Never once was I able to tell you the truth. The responsibility, I fear, was solely mine. I was the one who gave him the coordinates for the treasure he chased. I was the one who told him about another expedition that was due to arrive the following week.

  On the day of the sailing, I went to the docks and halfheartedly begged him to delay his departure. But you and I both know Neal was a man determined to protect his family at all costs—and we both know the financial conditions that drove him to desperation. So when he
refused, I wished him godspeed. The truth is we both believed he could succeed where others had failed. I now see how foolish—no, selfish—I was. My weakness cost you your husband, and Marquetta her father.

  Over the years I tried in small ways to compensate for tearing your lives apart, but fear I only hurt you both more. If the B&B were in better financial condition, I would gladly give Marquetta ownership. But I must at last face a second truth—I failed in business, too. You know my folly, and the financial burden I have created for my successor. Your family has borne enough pain. For this reason, I have decided the best way for me to help you and Marquetta is to stop interfering in your lives. How ironic that this epiphany comes only days before my passing.

  If you never read this letter, I have again succumbed to my weaknesses, and for that I will be eternally sorry.

  Jack

  When we’re done reading, Marquetta holds the letter in one hand and wraps her other arm around me. We sit, holding onto each other, just staring at the empty chair where Captain Jack probably wrote the letters.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Rick

  RICK AND ADAM sat at the kitchen counter going back over the photos Adam had gotten from Christopher Jenks. In Rick’s opinion, there were several that stuck out and raised questions. The way Heather Sanna and Gavin Mancini looked in one particular photo gave the impression they were more than coworkers. Was that true? The photo of Will Shelley leaning over the GPS looked incriminating, but was it? And then there was the one of Matthew Redmond at the lighthouse. It put Jenks and Redmond at the lighthouse during the murder window—it also blew apart the alibis of most of the treasure hunters.

  Adam pointed at the image. “The timestamp places Jenks at the lighthouse when he was supposed to be preparing for his conference call with England. So England lied about his alibi.”