Donna had walked into the kitchen as the message played. “Paul, you need to have some fun and I need a day in the sun, so let’s go! We can relax, have some beers, and just enjoy the day with them. You game?”
“Sounds good to me! You call Sara and tell her we are in. I’ll go pack the cooler. Find out where and when we are meeting them and we are out of here!”
Donna quickly called Sara and they made arrangements to meet at the Reserve Marina in Pawleys Island at 2 pm. “When you get to the security gate just tell the guard you are meeting us at the public boat launch. They know we have our boat stored there. We are thinking of heading down river to Georgetown for a late lunch. That work for y’all?”
“Sara, that works great for us. See you guys in a bit!”
The day was turning out just to be what Paul had needed as it gave him a break from the hunt for the missing Confederate treasury. It was a hunt that was starting to consume all of his energies.
With Sara and Stephen, Paul and Donna enjoyed a great day out on the river. After driving down to Georgetown on their boat, they enjoyed a late lunch at El Dorado, an Italian restaurant on Front Street. They had eaten there twice before and it had become their favorite restaurant since moving south. The meal they enjoyed, as well as the company of two of their newest friends, turned the day into one they thoroughly enjoyed. It never took much for Paul and Donna to enjoy themselves and this day was proving to be one of the most enjoyable ones they had since moving to South Carolina.
Earlier in the afternoon Paul had made a comment to all of them about needing a day to clear his head of several thoughts. Sara and Stephen had interpreted his comment as meaning he did not want to talk about his recent discovery of the soldier. They both had been great about not bringing the subject up, except for one question Sara had asked him. For the rest of the day they talked about everything but Paul’s discovery. It was just what he had needed, a day of mental relaxation. Now as they made their way back up the Waccamaw River, Paul closed his eyes and allowed the sun to warm his face. As he relaxed during the boat ride, he silently thanked Sara and Stephen for not pestering him for any details regarding his discovery. “Good friends realize when certain subjects are not to be broached. I appreciate them not bombarding me with questions about the soldier. I owe them for that.”
As they arrived back at the marina, Stephen deftly maneuvered his boat into the small public boat launch area, easily steering around a large pontoon boat leaving the marina with a group of several couples. As he pulled alongside one of the wooden docks, Paul jumped onto the dock and grabbed the boat’s bow line to keep the boat from banging into the dock. As he did, Stephen cut the engine to the boat. Holding the boat close to the dock, Donna began unloading the coolers and towels they had all brought with them for the day. As she did, Sara walked to the parking lot to get her Jeep and the boat’s trailer so the boat could be towed out of the water. Stephen had made arrangements for the boat to be serviced the following day and then placed back inside the marina’s large boat house for safe keeping.
After helping Stephen fasten the boat to the trailer, Paul looked down the dock to check on Donna. By now she had gathered up their belongings and was walking to where he was waiting for her. As she did, Paul’s eyes casually scanned the grounds of the marina as this was only the second time he had been there. As he looked around, his eyes focused on two large black wrought iron gates and their accompanying brick walls. They appeared to form a large rectangle off to the far right side of the marina. Somehow he had not seen this area adjacent to the marina’s property before now. Looking at where the brick walls sat, he saw they were partially shielded from view by several large moss covered pine trees, as well as by a few large Southern Live Oaks. Wondering why he had not seen the brick walls before now, he figured the large trees had likely blocked his view in the past. The brick walls were a distance away from where he stood, but Paul could still easily see through the large wrought iron gates. He saw what appeared to be several large stones that had been erected within this small plot of land.
As Sara returned from parking her Jeep, she started to help Donna carry all of their gear back to the top of the boat ramp. “Hey, Sara, what’s that I’m looking at over there? Are they monuments of some kind or what?”
Turning around to see what Paul was pointing at, she stopped and answered him before making her way to her Jeep. “I believe that’s some old family cemetery, but I’m not sure. Don’t know, never really paid any attention to it. What’s the interest in that anyhow?”
“No reason, just my morbid curiosity I guess. Hey, Donna and I are going to take a look at whatever it is before we leave. Thanks for the great afternoon! Next time we will take my boat.” They said their goodbyes to Sara and Stephen; promising to get together soon for dinner. Collecting their belongings, they gave a quick wave to Sara and Stephen as they drove out the parking lot. After putting their cooler and towels in the back of his truck, Paul dragged a protesting Donna over to look at the area which had been fenced in by the brick walls and the black wrought iron gates.
As they got closer to the brick walls, Paul could tell it was a small cemetery he had seen. Moving closer, he could also see the two black wrought iron gates were locked by a thick steel chain and a large brass lock. Standing by the wrought iron gates, he could see several soft sandstone headstones, some of which dated back to around the time of the Revolutionary War. Some of the headstones had their wording on them partially erased by time. It was difficult to read what had been engraved into the headstones from where he stood by the closed gate, but he managed to make out the names on a couple of them. Besides the several weather-beaten headstones, he also saw a few small burial vaults that had been built above ground. They appeared to have been made of the same red brick and mortar used to construct the walls of the cemetery. As the headstones were, the burial vaults had also been worn by time as well. Several of the bricks had begun to crumble from their long exposure to the elements.
As he stood by the locked entrance, Paul had somehow not noticed the small sign displayed on the cemetery’s brick wall. It was mounted on the wall to the left of the two gates. Stepping back to inspect the exterior walls of the cemetery, he finally noticed the sign. It caught him completely off guard.
The sign was the one clue Paul had been looking for. Now he found it by sheer luck. He had almost missed it, even though it had been hanging there for him to see. As he started to read the sign, he had no idea of what it would soon lead him to regarding his search for the rest of the missing Confederate treasury. Slowly he read the sign out loud as a somewhat tired and obviously bored Donna stood near the cemetery gate. “Turkey Hill Plantation, Allston Family Cemetery, 1780-1847.” Reading the first part of the sign caused him to momentarily stop from reading the rest of it. Silently now, he quickly reread what he had just read out loud.
“Donna, did you hear what I just said? The sign says this is the Allston family cemetery!” Paul excitedly glanced back and forth between his tired wife and the sign. Then he quickly read the rest of the sign which greeted visitors to this old family cemetery and to its place in American history for the region. The sign told of the Allston family receiving Land Deeds from King George of England prior to the American Revolution. It also told those who read it who had been buried in the cemetery. As he came to the end of what he was reading, the sign ended with the clue he had been looking for. “Among those family members buried here are children of Governor R.F.W. Allston.” He could not help but to react to what he had just read. “What!” His loud and unexpected outburst startled Donna. It also caused other people who were sitting on the marina’s nearby dock to turn and look at him. In a matter of moments their attention returned to what they had been doing and they ignored Paul as he continued to stare at the sign in front of him.
Standing in silence, Paul stared at what he had just read. “Have I just found the children of Governor A
llston who Francis referred to in his letter? But what about the gold and silver, what did they do with it?”
“You OK, Paul? It looks like you just saw a ghost in there.” Donna was not sure what had startled her husband.
“Maybe I did, maybe I did. Just give me a minute. Just be quiet for a minute, please.”
Silent as he walked around the perimeter of the small cemetery, Paul strained to recall exactly what Francis had written in his letter about leaving some of the gold and silver with the children of Governor Allston. His brain could not seem to focus on one single point as it repeatedly bounced back and forth between the contents of the letter, to the discovery he had made of the soldier’s remains, and to the sign he had just read. “Why can’t I concentrate?” He quietly asked himself this as he tried to recall the words Francis had used in his letter.
As she stood nearby, Donna could sense Paul was struggling with something, but she remained quiet. She now allowed him time to work out whatever it was he was trying to figure out without disturbing him. She had learned to recognize when he needed his own time and now she could tell this was one of those times.
It took a few minutes, but then the fog which had clouded Paul’s brain lifted and he remembered exactly what the words were Francis had used in his letter. ‘Those assets were secured within their compound for safe protection. They rest comfortably NW with the money.’ Remembering what he had recently read so many times in the letter over the course of the past week, he quickly walked past Donna, walking back to the locked black gates of the cemetery. Again he stared at the grave markers. The sign he had just read identified the children’s grave stones as being the smallest ones present in the cemetery. Now his eyes quickly located them. Softly he muttered his thought out loud. “I wonder which grave stone is marked with the letters NW as his letter makes reference to?”
“Paul, I’m sorry, I did not hear what you said.”
Excited by what he had just found and by the connection his new find had with the Francis letter, Paul turned and started to run back to his truck. “Donna, lets go!” By now he knew the importance of what he had just found.
Not yet figuring out what had caused Paul to get so excited, Donna struggled to catch up to him as he jogged towards his pickup truck in the marina’s parking lot. Making his way towards his truck, Paul’s mind continued to put the connections together. Reaching the truck before Donna, his mind continued to race, thinking of both the descriptions laid out in the Francis letter and what he had just read from the sign on the cemetery wall. “The family grave site was the ‘compound’ the letter referred to and the lines in his letter about ‘the children resting comfortably with the money’ meant the children had already been dead and buried. Francis had buried the money near one of their graves, the grave marked with the letters NW. Now it makes sense! The Allston cemetery is also on the way from North Carolina to Charleston where Francis was last seen. This has to be the spot where he has left some of the money.” As a somewhat winded Donna finally caught up to him at his truck, Paul tossed her the keys so she could drive them home. As she did, he began to explain to her the clues he had just put together.
“Oh, my goodness! You think he buried some of the money there thinking that no one would look for it in a cemetery?”
“Not sure, perhaps he just stumbled on the cemetery and he needed a spot to hide some of the money. I doubt we will ever know that answer.”
“Very weird, but a great place to hide something if someone wanted to.” Then it came to her and she almost drove off the side of Willbrook Boulevard as she turned to look at her husband. “Wait, you aren’t going to dig in a cemetery are you?” When Paul did not answer her, she quickly knew the answer to her question. “You are, aren’t you?”
Soon after they arrived home, Paul was burning the phone lines to Chick and Bobby Ray, trying to get them to meet him at the diner in the morning. They asked him why, but he refused to tell them. He just told them he had solved one of the clues he had discovered in one of the letters. He told them by the time they met the next morning he hoped to have all of the answers he needed. Before hanging up the phone with each of them, Paul promised he would fill them in with the rest of the details over breakfast. “Chick, get in touch with Jayne and tell Pete to bring one of his small video cameras. I don’t want him attracting too much attention when I show you what I think I have found.” While Chick told Paul he and the others would meet him at the diner, Bobby Ray told him he would have to catch up with them later in the day as he had an arrest warrant to serve early the next morning. “Bobby Ray, call me on my cell when you are done and I will tell you where we are.”
******
Paul arrived at the Waccamaw Diner early the next morning. Entering the diner, Betty could not resist the opportunity to needle him again. “Here he comes, the world famous finder of dead bodies! We ain’t seen you here for days, just where have y’all been?” Expecting some smart comment from her as he walked through the door, he simply gave her a smile and a brief wave as he made his way to his favorite booth in the back of the diner.
“Betty, I’ll take some coffee please. That’s of course when you can find time to do some work around here!” His comment drew a couple of quick laughs from those who were seated at the nearby lunch counter.
As Betty brought over his coffee, Paul looked around the diner and was relieved to see neither Chubby, nor Swamp, were in the diner. “Good,” he thought, “two less people I have to deal with this morning.”
“So where y’all been? I ain’t seen you for some time now. Y’all doing OK?” Betty asked Paul more than he wanted to share with her, but he knew she was just making conversation with him. He had far too much going on his mind to have much of a conversation with her.
“Just been up in North Carolina visiting old friends. All is good with the world though, thanks for asking.” Paul smiled at his comment about visiting old friends. He wished the three Confederate soldiers had been friends of his.
“That’s good. You still plan on telling me about your big discovery someday?”
“Told you I would. I keep my promises, but I don’t have time to talk about it today. Some of my friends are going to be joining me here in a few minutes, just so you know.”
Betty smiled at what Paul told her. Too many men in her life had not kept their promises to her, but for some reason she trusted he would. “Sounds good. Now what can I get ya for breakfast, some grits maybe?” She knew he detested the taste of grits, but it made her laugh each time she asked him if he wanted them.
Somewhat irritated by her grits joke, Paul gave her a sarcastic response back. “No thanks! I’ll pass on them forever, but thanks for asking again. I’ll just have some blueberry pancakes. You can also bring me a side of bacon and a small OJ as well.”
“Coming up!”
Engrossed with his breakfast and with the day’s USA Today, he did not notice the others until they began to sit down in the booth with him. “Too hungry to wait for us?” Jayne looked a bit miffed as she sat down next to him.
Paul had wanted to get his meal out of the way so he could tell them about the clues he had deciphered. “I could have waited, but once I started telling you about what I have uncovered, I did not want to be chewing and talking at the same time. What I have to tell you is going to be kind of freaky, so I hope you are all up for it.”
“In that case, thanks for eating first.”
After Betty refilled Paul’s coffee cup, she took the other breakfast orders. After she left to place their orders with the cook, Paul told them what he had uncovered the previous day.
After hearing what Paul had to say, Chick was the first one to speak. “But if he had nine children and only a couple of them are buried there, what makes you think the gold and silver is with them?”
“I don’t know, but what I do know is they were already dead and buried by the
time Francis came through the area. We don’t know, at least not yet we don’t, where the other children are buried. But like I’ve told you, the letter makes reference to Governor Allston’s children sleeping with the money in the compound. Pretty good chance I have found the right spot. I’m just disappointed that it took me this long to figure it out. I mean the darn cemetery is right there in plain view and it has the Allston name all over it. It was begging to be found. I guess when I was looking for answers to the questions I had, I just kept asking the wrong questions before I accidently found what I was looking for. I guess dumb luck is just as good as good luck is.”
Jayne had almost finished her breakfast as Paul answered Chick’s question about the Allston children. “Paul, you have done a remarkable job so far. I would not worry about fretting away a couple of weeks over this. Others have spent years on this and have found nothing.”
Always the quietest one of the group, Pete was sitting across from Paul in the booth. Paul was grossed out as he watched him eat his breakfast of yellow grits, hash, and scrambled eggs. As he ate his breakfast, Pete paused to ask the obvious question. “So what’s the plan?”
Paul had spent part of the previous night working on a plan for visiting the cemetery. He was ready with his plan when the question was asked. “Here is my idea, tell me what you think. This morning we will drive over to the cemetery and I’ll show you the spot where I think the money has been buried. I’ve got to tell you, this cemetery was well respected when someone developed the area around it. The adjacent property now includes a small marina, a public boat launch, and an upscale neighborhood. Both Governor Allston and Francis would be proud of how the cemetery has been maintained. It’s truly a beautiful setting.” Then he told them the rest of his plan. Soon they were driving to the cemetery.
As they drove up to the security booth outside the Reserve Marina, Jayne, a natural worrier in life, started worrying that their reason for being at the cemetery was going to be discovered by the elderly part-time security guard manning the booth. As Chick put the driver’s window down in his van, Paul leaned across the front seat. He saw the security guard was wearing the typical white short sleeve shirt with the embroidered arm patches which read Security Officer. The white shirt, which had coffee stains across the left breast pocket, had a name badge on it. The badge identified the guard’s first name as Jerry.
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