Fatal Fortune (Blackmoore Sisters Mystery Book 8)

by Leighann Dobbs

  She didn’t mention how Celeste could help, but why should she? Celeste didn’t have any special skills that would help them should they get attacked in the tunnels. Unless she could disarm a paranormal with a karate kick, she was pretty much useless.

  The only thing she could do was talk to ghosts and cast spells, and even that wasn’t working very well. While Cal was engrossed in his decryption and everyone else was talking about the plans for the next day, Celeste slipped away. She’d been drawn toward a cliff that she could see past the last cabin, and she walked slowly in that direction.

  It faced east toward the open ocean, and the view was magnificent. Someone had put a thick log lengthwise on its side there long ago, and Celeste sat on it, listening to the pound of the surf on the rocks below. A seagull swooped overhead, its lonely call echoing into the slowly darkening sky. Up above, a crescent moon shone brightly even though the sky was still blue.

  She closed her eyes and focused on her breath. Meditating always made her feel better, and soon she felt content. Peaceful.

  She was happy to be here with her sisters, and even if she didn’t contribute as much as them, she would try to be as helpful as possible. Who knew—maybe one of her spells really would come in handy.

  “Why so glum?”

  Celeste’s eyes snapped open to see a swirling mist of a figure in wide, flowing pants, a flowing sash at its waist, and brandishing what looked like a big, shiny saber.

  The appearance of a misty figure was nothing new to Celeste. She was used to talking to ghosts. But this one certainly had the fanciest outfit she’d ever encountered. With the wide-legged pants, scarves, and scabbard, she guessed her to be a pirate.

  “Who are you?”

  “Mirabella de Lafleur at your service.” The ghost bowed, gesturing in front of her in an exaggerated manner, then her face turned serious as she studied Celeste. “Why aren’t you with the others? I sense sadness about you.”

  “I’m not really sad—it’s just that my sisters have special gifts, and I don’t.” That made her sound like a spoiled brat. She was happy that her sisters had these great gifts. “I mean I just wish I could help them more.”

  Mirabella fisted her hands on her hips. “Oh, I know just how you feel.”

  “You do?”

  “Yep. I bet you contribute more than you think. But your sisters’ skills are showier. They get all the credit.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t exactly put it that way.”

  “Right, but you don’t get your fair share. Same exact thing happens to me, matey.” Mirabella gestured to her person. “I mean, let’s face it—women pirates hardly get any of the credit. It’s always about the men. Blackbeard this and Captain Kidd that. I can tell you plenty of women pirates did lots of things that these guys took the credit for.”

  “No doubt. But my sisters would never take credit for anything I did. It’s just that…” Celeste chewed her bottom lip, feeling even more like a jerk. She should be proud of her sisters, not sitting here feeling sorry for herself. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter. We’re a team, and it doesn’t matter who gets credit for what.”

  “Now, that’s the spirit. Besides, I bet you contribute a lot and have lots of special gifts. You’re talking to me, and that seems like a pretty good gift. Communicating across three centuries isn’t something everyone can do.”

  Celeste smiled. “Yeah, I guess. So, who are you exactly, and why are you here now?”

  Mirabella plopped down next to Celeste on the log and leaned her forearms on her knees. “I used to sail the Caribbean as a privateer and provided my services to those who could afford it. I worked for kings and queens. I’ve recovered treasure and sent men to watery graves.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been busy.”

  She nodded, her eyes narrowing. “But my last commission was by far my most important.”

  “Oh?”

  “I was commissioned by Marie Antoinette herself on the most important day of the French Revolution to deliver a certain item. I vowed to protect it with my life.”

  Celeste’s pulse quickened. “Her jewels.”

  Mirabella nodded. “We set sail for the new world. I had a contact there.” She looked out over the ocean, her expression turning grim. “But the pirate Jon Dubonnet followed me.”

  “And you ended up here.”

  “We saw the sails of the ship behind us and veered off course to lose him. We landed here, and I barely had time to hide my cargo before Dubonnet was upon us.” She turned back to Celeste. “He killed us all. And so I’ve spent that last two hundred and thirty years waiting for you.”

  “For me?”

  “You’re the only one so far who has been able to see me. I need you to complete my mission. To get the stone into the right hands. I must honor my vow to protect them, before I can move on.”

  Celeste nodded. Mirabella was stuck on the physical plane, bound by her vow until the stones were in their rightful place. She would be destined to walk this island as a ghost until then. Celeste felt a surge of compassion for Mirabella and a renewed enthusiasm for their mission.

  “Sounds like our goals are aligned,” Celeste said. “But you hid the jewel—the relic—long ago, and lots of people have been here since. Is it still here?”

  “Arghh. Of that I am sure.” Mirabella jumped to her feet and paced in front of Celeste. “Much treasure has been buried here by me and those that came after me, but the jewels… I know no one has yet found them, though it is not for lack of trying. In that sense, Dubonnet has unwittingly helped us.”

  “Oh, he’s still here too?”

  Mirabella nodded. “’Fraid so. And attempting to thwart the efforts of every treasure hunter that has come upon the island.”

  Was Dubonnet’s ghost behind all the accidents that had happened on the island? Did Mirabella have anything to do with them?

  “Do you know anything about the mysterious deaths that have occurred here?” Celeste asked.

  Mirabella looked at her sharply. “Some of it is the doing of Dubonnet. But some of it is the doing of more physical beings. Beings with strange powers.”

  Paranormals. “And what about you? Were you responsible for any of the accidents?”

  “No. I would not harm an innocent treasure hunter.” Mirabella’s face clouded. “Though I saw many harmed… Perhaps I should have interceded.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Mirabella looked down at the ground. “I dare not leave this general vicinity.”

  “Why?”

  “My husband and ship navigator, Constantine, was murdered by Dubonnet. I buried him here.” Mirabella pointed to a patch of ground that was slightly sunken in, then her gaze drifted out over the ocean. The sky was darkening now, indigo blue in front of them fading to royal blue on the sides. “I wanted him to have a view of the constellations and our beloved sea. I fought on the island for two more days before Dubonnet killed me as well. My body was thrown off the cliff, but I cannot leave Constantine’s side now for fear we will not be together in eternity.”

  “So you don’t venture far from this piece of land, then?” Celeste’s hopes dimmed. If Mirabella wouldn’t leave this cliff, she couldn’t show her where the relic was hidden. “I need you to show me where the relic is.”

  “Nay, I couldn’t show you even if I could leave. You see, I gave the relic to Constantine to hide. He etched a treasure map in the rocks while I was fighting Dubonnet’s men in case he perished before he could tell me where he’d hidden it. He managed to tell me at least that much, but he was killed before he could show me where it was.”

  Mirabella must have been referring to the rock they’d found. There was no way two people would have inscribed clues on rocks. “We found part of the rock he etched. It had broken from the main rock, and we need the rest of it. Where is it?”

  “I was never able to make it there. I’m not sure about the rock, but Constantine did say something about three large Scotch pines.”

  Three large
Scotch pines? Celeste knew they could grow sixty feet tall, but she hadn’t seen any that tall on the island. Then again, they were talking about trees that had been there two hundred years ago. Maybe they no longer existed.

  Celeste took another glance around. “Where are those?”

  Mirabella waved toward the northwest. “Over there. Can’t you see them?”

  “No. Didn’t he tell you where he hid the actual relic?”

  “Of course. Well, not exactly, since we had little time, but I can tell you it is buried down below, in the tunnels. There’s a natural vein of white quartz sediment in the rocks. A white line that runs along the wall. Follow that to the junction of three tunnels, and take the right-most path. You will see that the line shoots straight up. Go below the line, and you will find the gem.”

  Hope flickered in Celeste’s chest. Maybe she wasn’t such a boat anchor after all. The others were back at the camp with no clue as to where to look, and now she had a key piece of information on what to look for.

  Celeste pushed up from the log. “Thanks. I promise you I will find the gem and get it to where it was meant to be.” She glanced down at the depression in the ground. “Then you and Constantine can be reunited on the other side.”

  “I’m grateful.” Mirabella swirled, drops of mist peppered the ground, then she stopped and came close enough for Celeste to feel her chill. “But you must be careful. Dubonnet’s ghost still lurks in the caves, trying to do harm to those who seek the treasure.”

  It wouldn’t be the first time Celeste and her sisters had had to do battle with an angry ghost. Luckily, they had that down to a science, and it was something even Celeste could help with. “Don’t worry—we ain’t afraid of no ghost.”

  Celeste turned back toward the cabins, a spring in her step. She felt a kinship with Mirabella, who had always played second fiddle to the male pirates just as Celeste sometimes felt she played second fiddle to her sisters. Her mission would help Mirabella, and now she knew exactly where to look for the relic. Maybe she really was more helpful to their missions than she’d thought.

  Chapter Five

  The next day, Celeste was up in time to see the glorious sunrise over the ocean. As promised, it was warmer, allowing for hooded sweatshirts to be warm enough for the morning. Come noontime, she figured short sleeves would suffice.

  The night before, she’d told the others about her conversation with Mirabella, and they’d decided to stick to their original plan, with the girls exploring the cave and the guys going to the cove.

  Since Mirabella hadn’t been able to tell her exactly where the treasure was buried, they still didn’t have an exact destination, although at least now she had something to look for.

  The treasure pit had been discovered in the late 1800s, when enterprising treasure hunters noticed the ground was unnaturally sunken in on one area of the island. They reasoned that pirates had buried treasure hundreds of years earlier in that area, and over the centuries, the ground had sunken in because of the disturbance.

  Digging had revealed a series of caves and tunnels. Were they natural or previously dug by pirates to be used as hiding places for treasure?

  Armed with mountain-climbing gear and determination, the girls headed toward the area. A large hole had been dug in the center of a depression. Inside the hole was a precarious system of natural steps and rocks that led to a wide opening that was the beginning of the caves. One misstep would send them plunging down hundreds of feet to dark waters below. How deep that water was, no one knew. Celeste didn’t care to find out. She double-checked the rope at her waist and followed her sisters down the slippery slope to the mouth of the cave. After one last glance up at the blue sky and Cal’s smiling face, she gave him a thumbs-up and disappeared into the gloom.

  The mouth of the tunnel was wide, about fifteen feet across and six feet tall. The girls stood in a cluster in the waning patch of light and tied their ropes off to a ring that Morgan had jammed into a crack in the rock. They’d need those ropes to get out.

  “Meow.” Belladonna trotted into the mouth of the tunnel behind them.

  “Where did she come from?” The beam of Fiona’s LED flashlight illuminated Belladonna’s white fur. She sat on her haunches as if waiting for further instructions.

  “I guess she followed us.” Jolene bent and scratched the cat behind the ears. “She’ll be okay, right?”

  Celeste flipped on her headlamp and shrugged. “She usually is. Besides, I doubt she would leave if we asked her.”

  “Okay then, which way do we go?” Morgan swooped the beam of her flashlight along the sides of the tunnel, revealing walls of jagged, moist rock. Celeste did the same, looking for the vein of white quartz.

  “Hold on,” Jolene said. “Let’s take a reading and make sure we’re not walking into a paranormal trap or something.”

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Celeste knew that she was amping up her paranormal energy, something her sisters usually kept running at low levels so as not to be overwhelmed with their extrasensory perceptions.

  Jolene turned slowly, her gaze sweeping over the ceiling, walls, and floors of the tunnel. Then she stopped. “I don’t sense any bad energy. Just a faint yellow-energy trail, but it’s kind of hopeful. Nonthreatening. Might be from a bird or animal. Whatever it is is long gone. I don’t think there is any danger lurking here.”

  Morgan nodded. “I agree. My intuition is flat on normal. I think I might be getting a reading from Mirabella or the last people to treasure-hunt here, though, as I sense someone looking for something.”

  “I don’t see anything strange with any of the rocks.” Fiona bent down and scooped up a handful of pebbles and put them in her pocket. “It wouldn’t hurt for me to be armed with some just in case.”

  Fiona’s special gift was to be able to infuse the energy of rocks. She could take healing carnelian stones and make them ten times more powerful. Celeste had seen her use them to heal an open wound in hours. She’d perfected her gifts so that she could employ regular, everyday rocks and pebbles as defensive weapons. She could infuse them with a red-hot energy and then fling them as projectiles toward their enemies.

  “Good. Then we continue on. And there’s only one way to go.” Jolene pointed toward the dark bowels of the cave. “That way.”

  The sisters hesitated for a second. Belladonna not so much. She gave a short “mew” then trotted off into the darkness, her white fur looking ghostly against the stark blackness of the tunnel.

  “You heard her. Let’s go.” Morgan aimed her flashlight and moved forward.

  The farther into the tunnel they got, the damper the air became. Celeste put the hood of her gray sweatshirt up over her head and tugged the strings together. She used the small penlight in her right hand to periodically sweep the sides of the tunnel, looking for that white vein of quartz, while the brighter light on her head illuminated the path before them.

  They walked in silence, the drip, drip, drip, of water somewhere inside the cave and the dull scrape of their hiking boots the only sounds.

  “It sure is quiet in here,” Jolene whispered. “How many pirates do you think traveled this same path?”

  “I hope at least Mirabella’s husband was one of them,” Fiona said. “I don’t see this quartz line you told us about, Celeste.”

  “He wouldn’t have come this way, I don’t think. This treasure pit was dug out in the 1800s. A hundred years after Mirabella’s time. So they probably entered the cave system at another point, but hopefully, this entry leads to that point,” Morgan said.

  How many tunnels were in here? What were the odds of them stumbling across the spot Constantine had buried the relic?

  “I’ll see if I can scare her up tonight and find out more about where the entry point was,” Celeste said.

  “It’s a good thing we have Luke and Jake checking things out from the cove. That might be a more likely place for them to have gained entry,” Fiona said.

  “A lot has pro
bably changed since Mirabella’s time, but these tunnels existed before the men dug in the 1800s,” Morgan pointed out. “That’s why they dug the treasure pit, because of the indentation. So Constantine could have followed this same path.”

  “Someone did.” Jolene flashed her light on an old metal axe.

  “Yeah, someone has been in here for sure.” Fiona picked up a rusted buckle off the ground. It was wide, with the buckle side elongated, and had remnants of fancy carving. Definitely not of modern design. “Looks like a shoe buckle, probably from the 1700s.”

  “So we’re on the right path.” Jolene shone her light ahead to show a cross section where the tunnel split, with one side going to the right and the other to the left. “Now which way do we go?”

  “Meow!” Belladonna’s cry came from the path on the left.

  Celeste swung toward it, her headlamp illuminating something long and white. Beyond it, the path continued but took a sharp dip downward, as if it were going downhill. The cat batted at the white thing, and it spun, clattering hollowly.

  “What the heck?” Jolene bent down to look at it. “Holy smokes, it’s a bone!”

  “Look. Here’s more.” Fiona moved farther downhill and pointed to a pile of rotting fabric. Amidst the colorful swatches lay a femur, a jawbone, and part of a skeletal hand.

  “Meow!” Belladonna’s voice was insistent as she started back toward the entrance.

  “It’s okay, Belladonna. He can’t hurt us now.” Morgan turned back to the skeleton. “Looks like those rumors of accidents weren’t just stories.”

  “Mew!” Belladonna looked serious.

  “We get the picture. Danger,” Jolene said.

  “This looks like pirate clothing. I don’t think this guy was from the 1950s or even the 1900s,” Morgan said.

  “But how did he get here, and what happened to him?” Celeste asked.

  Jolene frowned. “Do you think your evil pirate had something to do with it?”

  “Maybe.”

  Morgan glanced behind them. “And do you think his ghost could be here waiting to do the same thing to us?”