Garden of Death

by Chrystle Fiedler

  “I know,” I said. “But I think we’ve got the key to Frank Fox’s locker—and maybe there’s something inside that will tell us where the treasure is. If we can find it, we can save Merrily’s life. We have to try.”

  Jackson jiggled the picks. “Let’s just hope Koren and Coyle don’t find out about this. It’s all they’d need to put me away.”

  “It won’t come to that,” I said, praying I was right. Seconds later, the lock clicked open, and the two of us and Simon climbed the stairs to the club’s main room. Simon flipped a light switch, turning on the overhead chandelier. The décor was dated, with dingy old-fashioned wallpaper, dusty lamps, and a threadbare rug.

  Immediately, I went over to the painting of the men’s club that Joe Larson had purchased and that now hung over the fireplace. “There it is,” I said, pointing to the Roman numerals for forty-nine. “The exact same number that’s on the key that Frank Fox hid in the book. And he’s the one who had Fred Monsell put the Roman numerals in the painting. He must have been leaving some sort of message.”

  “Yeah, but he’s been dead nearly a year,” Simon pointed out. “Wouldn’t the other club members have cleaned out his locker by now? Or one of the treasure hunters like Dr. White or Harold, since they’re members?”

  “Maybe not if this is the only key. Unless they broke in,” I said. “Where are the lockers, Simon?”

  “Up front.” Simon led us into the next room, which overlooked the street and contained a small kitchen, a seating area, and a wall of antique lockers. “We’d better close these curtains.”

  “You two do that while I find locker forty-nine.” I began looking; it didn’t take long to find it. “I’ve got it.” I pointed to a locker in the middle of the wall.

  “Open it,” Jackson said.

  “This should be good,” Simon added.

  “Let’s hope so.” I inserted the key into the lock and tried to turn it. At first, it wouldn’t budge. I tried again. On the third try, there was a click and the door creaked opened. But there was nothing inside.

  “Someone obviously got here first,” Simon said, sounding disappointed.

  “Someone with a key, since it doesn’t look forced,” Jackson said.

  “Maybe one of the head honchos of the club, like Harold,” Simon said.

  “They’d have a key,” Jackson said.

  “Now what do we do?” Simon said, looking at me.

  “Let me think.” Instead of panicking, I forced myself to remain calm, then, moments later, I got an idea. “I need to look at the painting again.” I left the room with Jackson and Simon following me.

  “What are you doing?” Jackson said.

  When I got to the fireplace, I said, “Look for another number. Maybe together with forty-nine it will add up to the right number and the right locker.”

  The three of us stood there in silence, reviewing every brushstroke. After five minutes, Simon said, “I don’t see anything.”

  “Me either,” Jackson said.

  “Wait,” I said, leaning in for a closer look. There, in the upstairs window of the building, a tiny book leaned against the sash. On the spine was the number VI. “Look, right here, another book, and another number.”

  “It’s the number six,” Simon said. “I don’t need to look that one up.”

  “Forty-nine and six is fifty-five,” I said.

  “Right,” Jackson said. “But what does it mean?”

  “Let’s check locker fifty-five and find out,” I said.

  The three of us ran back into the locker room and searched for number fifty-five. After a few moments, we found it, on the very bottom shelf, three lockers from the end. I inserted the key and turned. This time it moved easily, like a knife through butter—Frank had probably visited this box in secret often before he died—and the door opened. I reached inside and pulled out an old metal box, which was embossed with strange symbols.

  “Good job, McQuade,” Jackson said, squeezing my arm.

  “You’re a genius Willow!” Simon said.

  “Wow,” I said, pretty amazed myself. “Let’s see what’s inside.”

  “Why don’t you bring it over to the table and we can examine it?” Jackson suggested.

  I carried the box over, put it down, and used a napkin that had been left on the table to wipe it off.

  “It looks old,” Simon said. “Maybe not pirate-­treasure-old, but I’m guessing at least a hundred years.”

  “Luckily, it doesn’t seem to have a lock,” Jackson said.

  I took a deep breath. “This has been a long road,” I said. “So let’s open it together. For Merrily.”

  “For Merrily,” Jackson and Simon repeated.

  Together, we pulled back the lid and looked inside. There was only one object in the box. “It’s a piece of parchment paper,” I said, carefully lifting it out.

  “Maybe it’s a map,” Simon said. “Unfold it.”

  I did so, and put the oversized piece of paper on the table and smoothed it out. “It is a map.”

  “It’s a map of the lot,” Jackson said. “See, there’s the boundary between your store and Frank Fox’s lot.”

  “And there’s Fox’s old home,” Simon added. “But where’s the X to mark the spot?”

  “Good question.” I leaned over and carefully examined the map, which was old and tattered and had obviously been handled many times. After a few moments, I spotted it. “Right here. See?”

  There was a tiny X in the middle of the lot, next to a drawing of a hedge. “The X is at the midpoint of his lot.”

  “Let’s hope it marks the spot,” Jackson said. “Let get back to Nature’s Way and see what we find.”

  But when we headed back downstairs and peered through the window in the door, we saw a cop was patrolling the alley. “Can’t go that way, at least not right now,” Jackson said. “Is there another way out, Simon? “

  “Yeah, you can go out the front, but we’d better check it first.”

  The three of us went back upstairs and into the front room. Jackson pulled back a section of the curtain and looked out. “We’ve got a problem here, too. There’s a patrolman right in front of the store.”

  “What’s with all the police?” Simon asked.

  “There are a lot of people in town this weekend,” Jackson said.

  “There’s a lot going on,” I said. “There’s the electric boat ride around the harbor, and another performance of The Tempest in Mitchell Park. Plus, there’s the seafood restaurant crawl and a wine tasting from all the local vineyards at the Vine.”

  “No wonder it’s so crowded,” Simon said.

  “The police need to keep an eye on things,” Jackson said. “We’ll just have to wait until they leave.”

  • • •

  Unfortunately, the cop continued to patrol the alley and the other cop stayed out front. I wondered if there had been a tip about some possible crime in the area, or maybe they were looking all over town for Merrily. While we waited, I called Detective Coyle to get an update on the investigation into Merrily’s disappearance. The police were searching all over the village, which might explain the cops in the area, but there was no word yet, and no more faxes. So, hopefully, whoever it was was honoring the deadline.

  “The cop in front is walking away,” Jackson finally said from the window. “But I can’t tell who else is down there. Simon, go check things out okay?”

  “On it.” Moments later, Simon returned from his check of the street, the alley, and the boatyard. “No cops.”

  I looked at Simon, and then at Jackson. “Let’s go find that pirate treasure and save Merrily.”

  chapter thirty-two

  Willow McQuade’s

  Favorite Medicinal Plants

  TURMERIC

  Botanical Name: Curcuma longa

 
Medicinal uses: A shrub related to ginger, turmeric is grown throughout India, other parts of Asia, and Africa. Known for its warm, bitter taste and golden color, turmeric is commonly used in foods such as curry. Turmeric contains two natural compounds, curcumin and curcuminoids, that decrease inflammation naturally. A study in the medical journal Arthritis and Rheumatism in 2006 showed that turmeric is effective in helping to relieve symptoms of rheumatoid arthritis.

  Turmeric’s powerful healing properties also enable it to improve immune function, and cold and chest complaints. It aids digestion, cools off heartburn, improves liver function, and regulates menstruation. Since turmeric is antibacterial, it is often applied directly to the skin for wound healing. Turmeric’s fingerlike underground stems (rhizomes) are dried and taken by mouth as a powder or in capsules, teas, or liquid extracts. Add it to your favorite dishes for an immediate health boost.

  We returned to the garden and found Tony standing guard at the front gate. “Anything happen while we were gone, Tony?” Jackson asked.

  “Quiet tonight,” Tony said. “Although there are a lot of people on the street. Had a couple of folks ask about the garden and if it would be open tomorrow.”

  “I hope so,” I said.

  Jackson opened the gate. “We’ve got something to do inside, so keep an eye out, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  Simon and I trailed Jackson inside and down the path. Using my flashlight, we followed the map to the place that was marked. “It looks like we got lucky,” I said, pointing to the path between two planting beds. “If this map is accurate, the treasure is buried here, which means we won’t have to dig up all these beds, and will be able to get to the treasure quicker.”

  “Good,” Jackson said, grabbing a shovel and digging it into the ground. He deposited the first shovelful in the path behind him.

  Simon picked up the other shovel and joined him. Together, they made quick progress, and a hole soon took shape.

  “I need the big clippers, Willow,” Jackson said. “I’m hitting some pretty big roots here and I need to clear them if I’m going to go deeper.”

  “We need light, too,” Simon said. “I can’t see what I’m doing.”

  “I’ll go get the clippers, and then I’ll hold the flashlight for you.”

  Using the flashlight to guide me, I stepped along the path to the toolshed. The night was still and the garden was dark, and suddenly I felt unsettled being alone. I just wanted to get what they needed and get back to Jackson and Simon.

  Opening the door, I stepped inside and used the flashlight to locate the large pair of clippers, which were on the floor at the back of the shed. But as I picked them up, I heard a voice behind me say, “Willow?”

  “Merrily?” I turned around. Merrily stood in the doorway of the shed, shivering and looking frightened. But as I stepped toward her, Nate Marshall stepped between us and shoved a gun into my face. “Hi, boss.”

  Jackson had been right, even though I hadn’t wanted to believe it. “I’m so sorry, Willow.” Merrily started to cry. “He made me do it.”

  I fought to keep my voice calm. “It’s okay, Merrily. What do you want, Nate?”

  He used to the gun to motion me outside and grabbed the clippers with his other hand. “I want what I came here for.”

  “Which is—?”

  “What do you think? Now move.” Nate held the gun on both of us and prodded us back toward Jackson and Simon.

  Still concentrating on the hole he was digging, Jackson said, “Willow? Did you get the clippers?”

  “Yes, and I found Merrily and Nate.”

  Jackson looked up. “That’s great . . .” But then he saw Nate and the gun. Instantly, his voice became calm. “What are you doing, Nate? You don’t want to hurt Merrily or Willow.”

  “So Jackson was right?” Simon said. “But how could you kidnap Merrily? She’s your girlfriend. Why would you do this?”

  Nate smiled. “So many questions. Well, here’s my answer. Either you dig up the treasure or I’m going to kill your best employee.”

  Merrily started shaking and crying again. I went to put my arm around her, but Nate pushed me away. “Get back.”

  “I guess suing Willow wasn’t enough,” Jackson said. “You wanted more.”

  “Let’s just say that a few gambling debts caught up with me, and the people I owe want their money now. I wanted the sword you found, but I know that you no longer have it, and that the goblet is in the bank. So we’ll have to settle for what we find here. Keep digging.”

  Jackson and Simon began to shovel again while Nate stood to the side with his gun trained on Merrily and me. My phone was in my pocket, and I wondered if I could possibly call 911 without Nate noticing. Even if I couldn’t talk into the phone, the 911 operator would pick up my location—and possibly overhear enough to send help to us.

  To distract Nate, I started asking questions. “How did you find out about the treasure in the garden? Is that why you came to work here?”

  He laughed. “Well, I did need some college credits, but searching for buried treasure trumped that.”

  “Frank Fox told you about it, didn’t he?”

  “Frank was quite a character. I actually liked spending time with him at the nursing home when I wasn’t planting roses.”

  “It became even more interesting when he began talking about his love of history, in particular the adventures of Captain Kidd and other pirates, particularly on the East End. I’d heard the rumors all my life that pirate treasure might be out here, but it wasn’t until I met Frank that I realized those rumors could really be true.”

  “What exactly did he tell you?” I asked, thinking that whatever it was, Frank Fox might have told the identical things to Charles White.

  Nate shrugged. “Frank said there were several places on the East End where treasure might be buried and encouraged me to go after it. But I checked out all the other possibilities and found nothing. When Frank died and left this lot to the village, I knew it had to be here.” He smiled at me. “So I applied for the job to work for you. It was just too convenient to pass up.”

  “How perfect,” I muttered, and noticed that Jackson and Simon were digging but were also talking quietly to each other. They were probably trying to figure out a way to disarm Nate. I wondered if Jackson had tried to call Tony.

  “So, Dr. White figured it out, too.”

  “Yes, we came to the same conclusion and unfortunately both of us came here last Friday night to look for it. Of course, I’d been searching for it while I was working, but I did my best work after hours.”

  “So you’re the one who made all of those holes since then? You’re the one who was all in black with the rucksack?”

  “That was me. I did see someone else in here a couple of times, but I didn’t catch his face. And I never found what I was looking for, so I had to resort to more desperate measures.” He pointed the gun at Merrily, and she gave a little whimper of fear.

  Then I realized why Nate was talking so freely: he wasn’t worried about anyone spilling his secrets, because he was planning to kill us all. I tried to divert his attention. “Why did you kill Dr. White?”

  He gave a casual shrug. “I never planned to kill him, but we got into a fight, and before I knew what I was doing, I’d hit him over the head with the shovel.”

  “You didn’t plan it,” Jackson said in a skeptical tone. “But you were wearing gloves. Which is why the police found my prints on the shovel.”

  “Correct, now get back to work.” He pointed the pistol at him.

  “No!” I yelled. “Don’t hurt him.”

  “Chill, Nate,” Simon said. “We’ll get you what you want. Just don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  “What I regret is having to waste all this time looking for whatever Frank Fox buried in this lot. That’s why I took your employee
here. So I could enlist all of you to help.” He pointed the gun back at Merrily.

  Merrily dabbed her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “Nate, please don’t do this.”

  “Sorry, babe, I have to. What you and I had was fun, but there are some very bad people after me. Granted, this was a long shot, but I think it’s about to pay off.” He was looking at her when he spoke, and I slid my phone out of my back pocket. All I had to do was press the On button, slide to the first screen, and press Emergency. But first I had to press the button that turned off the sound, so Nate wouldn’t hear it dialing 911. Unfortunately, pressing that button made a distinctive buzzing sound, which I couldn’t risk.

  He turned to me, and I quickly dropped the phone back into my pocket. “How did you figure out where to dig?” he demanded.

  I explained what had happened at the nursing home, meeting Emily, the nurse, and her giving us the box of Frank’s effects, and how I found the key, which led to finding the map.

  “Aren’t you the clever one?” Nate said, smiling. “I knew I sent that fax to the right person.”

  “I think we’ve got something,” Jackson said. He used his shovel to strike the dirt and it made a metallic clang.

  Nate moved closer to the hole and looked down at what they were doing. “That’s it!” he said. “Keep digging.”

  Jackson and Simon used the shovels to dig most of the dirt out around whatever was there, and the edges of what looked like a box began to emerge in the dirt. Jackson brushed off the top and tried to move it, but it remained in the ground.

  “Dig deeper!” Nate said. “You’ve got to get under it.”

  While Nate’s attention was fixed on what they were doing, I noticed a small flash of light in the corner of the garden. Was it Tony?

  Jackson and Simon dug around the bottom of the box some more. “I think we’ve got it now,” Jackson finally said. He and Simon grabbed the box and pulled it from the earth. The box actually looked like an antique treasure chest. It had a domed lid and was covered with dozens of what looked like gems, and had a heavy clasp.

  Jackson tried to open the latch. “It’s locked.”