Emerald Fire

by Monica McCabe

  “Good morning, Dad.” Finn grinned at him.

  Ronan lifted one side of his mouth in an almost smile. “Son.”

  “Everything okay?” Finn asked.

  “Well as can be expected,” his dad replied with a reassuring nod to Chloe. He then turned his attention to their captors. “Why the guns?”

  “Enough chatting,” Lisa demanded. “We don’t have all day. Where are they?”

  “They who?” Ronan asked.

  “The damn emeralds,” said Owen. He appeared tense, his eyes constantly darting around like he expected the boogieman to jump out and snatch him.

  Finn sort of felt that way, too, but he had the advantage of knowing NorthStar inside out. He didn’t have a clue where the emeralds were hiding, however. Didn’t even know where to begin looking.

  “Don’t know about any emeralds.” Ronan looked mystified, like they’d just asked him where the Martians were hiding. “You sure you’re in the right place?”

  Finn fought back a laugh. He always did enjoy his dad’s droll sense of humor. The fact that he used it to antagonize the criminals was a bonus, even if it wasn’t wise.

  “One more crack, and I will end this the easy way and get rid of the three of you. Then I’ll level this dump.” Owen waved his gun around, indicating their surroundings. “I’ll eventually find the emeralds.”

  “You never did have any class, Owen.” Apparently Chloe wasn’t done baiting her cousin despite his threat. “From the day you were born, you’ve been bitter and malicious. And it seems you’ve found a perfect mate.”

  Lisa leveled her gun straight at Chloe, but spoke to Finn. “If all of you don’t stop playing games, I’ll start doing to her what I did to that SUV.”

  That was a warning Finn took seriously. “Maybe you should take your own advice. Stop hurling threats, and let’s get busy. It isn’t going to take Hosea long to find you.”

  “I don’t see any damn pirates here,” Owen snapped. “That lame scare tactic isn’t going to work, pal.”

  Finn wasn’t so sure he agreed, a nagging tickle on the back of his neck said something was wrong.

  “You made one big mistake, Owen.” Chloe had that look, the one Finn had come to recognize as drawing the line. “The day you teamed up with this guttersnipe is the day you signed your own death warrant. She’s already condoned murder. What makes you think she’ll allow you to live once the emeralds are in her possession?”

  Finn’s jaw tightened in dread. She’d just laid down a gauntlet to a woman who defined the word unstable. That was a problem because there were two things he’d fiercely protect, Chloe and NorthStar. He wasn’t sure exactly when she became as important to him as the inheritance he’d been trying to rebuild, but there it was.

  “I’ve had all I’m going to take of your mouth,” Lisa said with narrowed eyes. “I had a good thing going on with Jonathan until you poisoned it.”

  “I poisoned it?” Chloe asked in amazement. “You hired pirates to murder him and his crew. Owen is a fool to ever trust you.”

  Lisa screeched in fury and, to Finn’s horror, aimed the gun toward Chloe and fired.

  * * * *

  The shot went wide, hitting the side of the house, and Chloe stared at Lisa in total disbelief. “You tried to shoot me. You’re completely crazy!”

  “My next one won’t miss,” Lisa vowed.

  Ronan grabbed his son’s arm. “Nay, Finnegan.”

  He’d tried to get to her. And do what? Protect her from a bullet by taking one himself? She was a hundred times an idiot. Her hatred of Lisa could cost her and those she loved if she didn’t get herself under control.

  “What the fuck, Lisa!” Owen had his gun trained on Finn and Ronan. “Stop being stupid. We need her right now.”

  “Why is she willing to kill me over a few pieces of jewelry?” Chloe asked, though she shouldn’t be surprised. She’d already hired assassins. What was one more death?

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” Owen answered. “It’s priceless jewelry, and it’s going to set me up for life. Do yourself a favor and stay out of my way.”

  “Set us up, Owen dear.” Lisa sounded miffed. “Us.”

  They were both nuts and deserved each other.

  The sky had lightened to a twilight shade and the yard lights reduced to a halo in the moisture-laden air. She risked a glance at Finn and clearly saw cold fury in his expression. Was it aimed at her for stupidly baiting Lisa, or at Lisa for shooting the gun? Probably both.

  Honestly, if he clenched his jaw any tighter, he’d start breaking teeth. The effort for him to remain stock-still had to be superhuman. His self-control was impressive, bordering on scary, and she had no doubt that he was gauging the right time to strike. That both worried her and gave her hope. Finn had a lot to lose if they didn’t win this war, and he would hit them with the force of freight train. But Lisa and Owen were desperate, and they’d fight back with lethal intent.

  A curtain shifted at the window, catching her attention. Uncle Jon. He would’ve heard the gunshot, and Chloe prayed the only thing he’d do was call the police. Because she didn’t doubt for minute that Lisa would try to finish the job she started if she laid eyes on him.

  “Let’s make a deal,” Chloe blurted out. “We won’t interfere.” She stared point blank at Finn as she stressed the last part. “We help find the emeralds. You get in the car and leave. No one gets hurt.”

  “Fine by me,” Owen stated. “Work for you, dear?”

  Lisa settled a resentful glare on Chloe. “I don’t think she does anything without an ulterior motive. Being mouthy and butting in is more her style. Why are you willing to cooperate all of a sudden?”

  Her spiteful words were intended to hurt, but it had the opposite effect. Chloe was all too happy to be a thorn in her step-aunt’s side. “Maybe it’s because I’m standing here on the wrong end of a gun and you have an itchy trigger finger.”

  “Where is Jonathan?” Lisa asked.

  The change in questioning came out of the blue. Was she wondering if her husband was going to appear with guns blazing or call out the National Guard? Chloe hoped for the latter. The Guard, or the police, would be a welcome sight. But until then, it was three against two. The numbers were in their favor, except the other two held guns and Lisa was crazy.

  “Uncle Jon is recovering from a stab wound,” Chloe finally answered. “After that he plans on prosecuting you for murder.” There she went again, baiting a lunatic with an indiscriminate aim and penchant to shoot.

  “I’ll be long gone by then,” Lisa claimed, unconcerned.

  “We will be long gone,” Owen corrected her.

  Oh, yeah. These two had issues. Surely there was a way to use that against them.

  “Can we get back to the search?” Finn growled. “Watching the three of you go at each other is getting old.”

  He said that last part with a pointed glare her direction. She got the message. And he was angry. Very, very, angry. She couldn’t blame him.

  “I know why she’s in this,” Lisa pointed at Chloe. “But why are you helping her?” She gave a calculated look Finn’s way. “Did you honestly think she’d share the wealth with you?”

  Finn didn’t reply. He just stood there with his fists clenched, spine rigid, and wearing the look of someone who seriously ached to do some damage.

  Owen barked in laughter. “Who’s the idiot now? Chloe doesn’t share. Never has, never will.”

  “Maybe that’s because she learned the hard way not to trust her family.” Finn didn’t even blink, just let the implication of his words sink into Owen’s brain.

  Warmth infused Chloe. He wasn’t mad at her. He’d stood up for her. They had to get out of this alive and in one piece, if for no other reason than she wanted to tell Finn how much that meant to her.

  “You really are a fool,” Lisa declared. “Trust is an illusion for the ignorant. If you were banking on that, I’m delighted to say
that none of this is going to end well for you.”

  Chloe prayed she was wrong.

  And Owen was frowning at his girlfriend. Learning that little truth about the woman you plotted federal crimes with couldn’t be reassuring.

  But time really was running out. Dawn had chased away all but the brightest stars, Uncle Jon wouldn’t stay hidden for much longer, and Hosea was a serious threat whether Owen believed it or not. They needed to get cracking.

  Apparently Lisa thought so, too. “Enough…where are the emeralds?”

  Chloe met Finn’s eyes. He still had the same rigid stance of anger, but she no longer thought it directed her way.

  “We have a lot of ground to cover,” Finn said. “And no real clue where to begin.”

  “I believe I can help narrow it down,” Ronan stated.

  Relief surged through Chloe.

  “What have you got?” Finn calmly asked his dad, a surefire clue he was measuring every step and weighing options with each one.

  Ronan turned to Chloe with the answer. “The maritime star is the connecting theme, right?”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “It’s in the journal, on the chalice, and it marked the crypt where Desmond was buried.”

  “Reward is a folly belowground,” Ronan repeated the chalice inscription. “It pertained to a crypt?”

  “The folly was built overtop an underground tomb,” she replied. “Finn and I got inside and found Desmond’s coffin. There was also an ornate wooden chest that held the queen’s emeralds, but it was empty.”

  “We think they were taken by Reginald Mathis,” Finn added stiffly. “For safekeeping.”

  Ronan turned to his son. “NorthStar has had the same logo since the very beginning, the oddly shaped maritime star.”

  “Aye, I know.”

  “Sometimes it turns up in unlikely places,” his dad continued. “Like yesterday. I noticed it in a spot that I’ve seen many times before, but was never significant until now.” He pointed toward the water.

  The morning sun had cracked the horizon with colors of coral and gold, and the glow reflected on the old dry dock that was half pier, half two-story building. The wood slat siding was aged and in need of a paint brush, but high up on the back wall was the weathered shape of the top-pointing star that once hung there, the memory imprinted with countless years of dirt and rain.

  “I’ll be damned,” Finn muttered. “It’s the oldest structure on the property.”

  Chloe contemplated the antique building. “That star has been the key so far. It’s as good a place to start as any.”

  “Agreed,” Finn said, but his brows drew together in a frown, and his eyes searched the property.

  It gave Chloe the willies. “What is it?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Something feels off.” He scanned the driveway, the storage sheds, and the docks. With an uneasy shake of his head, he focused back on the situation and waved his hands to the entourage. “Shall we?”

  “No.” Owen stood off to the side, also checking out the boatyard. “There are too many of us. He stays.” He pointed toward Ronan.

  “Okay,” Ronan agreed. “I’ll just go inside, have some tea, wait for you to finish up.”

  “Funny, old man.” Owen marched over to the small tool shed just off the back porch and opened the door. “Inside,” he ordered.

  Ronan stepped in and turned to face the crowd with a salute. “Be quick about it, will you son? I think there are spiders in here.”

  Owen slammed the door and wedged a two-by-four against the knob to lock Finn’s dad inside. Chloe hoped he wouldn’t have to be in there long.

  They headed across the grounds and onto an old wooden dock. The lumber at their feet was the weathered gray brown that comes from years of exposure to the elements, the boards warped with cracks large enough to see water splashing beneath. They walked to the end and rounded the corner where the harbor seemed deep enough to sail a boat right inside the dry dock. Two huge sliding doors took up most of the front space, but they entered through a pedestrian door off the pier. The inside was cavernous and illuminated with pale morning sunlight filtering in through old leaded glass windows.

  The interior was shaped like a square horseshoe, the center high and open to allow boats to sail inside, while the walls were ringed with wide walking ramps designed to hold shipbuilders and their tools as they worked. Large beams crisscrossed beneath both the floors for support as well as under the open roofline. And scattered ladders gave access to different levels, top to bottom.

  Their steps echoed over the sound of gently splashing water as they all moved inside. For Chloe it was like entering a time capsule. She could touch the past, feel the emotion that had soaked into the old wood. And if she closed her eyes, she could imagine the sailors shouting at each other as they worked. The place was musty, weatherworn, and forgotten, but beautiful in the way that history could be.

  “Any idea where to start?” Chloe asked Finn.

  Chapter 29

  They began on the first floor, opening and closing every storage cabinet, carefully shifting old wooden tool stands, rope piles, and sawhorses. Chloe even inspected the walls and floor, looking for any anomaly that might be a secret hiding location.

  After tearing through everything moveable and coming up with nothing, they proceeded to the next floor and repeated the process. She and Finn did most of the heavy lifting. Owen and Lisa showed a complete lack of concern for antique shipbuilding materials and kicked over old stools, dumped barrels, and stirred up enough dust to choke a mule.

  “This is taking too long!” Lisa whined.

  Chloe agreed. It was starting to warm up in the humid building, and the labor of moving things around had begun to take its toll. She wiped her brow with her sleeve again, frustrated by their lack of success, but fascinated with every little find. For a quick minute, her heart skipped a beat because in a small corner cabinet, she found a crude metal box exactly the right size for a cache of jewels. She’d pulled it out and brushed off decades of dirt and dust, only to discover it held a set of wood awls used to shave out connection fittings.

  That was a little disappointing. Still, if they hadn’t been at gunpoint, she might have enjoyed the exploration. As it was, Lisa’s constant complaining began to grate on her nerves.

  “There’s nothing here but a bunch of junk,” Lisa snapped. “We’re wasting time.”

  Chloe shook her head and went back to digging around inside an old wayfarer’s chest. But it was also a bust, so she closed the lid and stood up, stretching out her back and searching for Finn, only to see him standing at one of the windows, staring intently outside.

  She quietly moved over beside him. “What is it?”

  He glanced at her. “Nothing as far as I can tell.” His gaze roamed back out the window. “I just have this nagging itch. And it’s rarely wrong.”

  “You two think you’re on a break or something?” Owen used his pistol to knock over a coffee can. Nails, bolts, and wood screws scattered across the rough tabletop. “This place is useless. Got any other bright ideas?”

  Finn shot Owen a drop-dead glare and turned his attention to Chloe. “I’ve been thinking about that star.” He rubbed a hand across the nape of his neck. “It’s unique in that the top point stretches north.”

  She caught on. “The star on the outside wall was pointing to the roof, wasn’t it?”

  “It’s the only place left to search, other than the dock’s underbelly. That involves swimming and barnacles, so I doubt we’d find anything there.”

  “Then the roof it is.” Chloe did a quick spin in place, looking for a ladder.

  “Opposite corner,” Finn pointed. “Over by the stack of ship crossbeams.”

  She headed that way, but he beat her to it and was first up the ladder, opening the roof hatch and climbing out. Lisa went up next.

  “She’s going to betray you, Owen,” Chloe said quietly. She didn’t fi
gure it would do any good to appeal to his conscience—he didn’t have one—but trust was an obvious issue between him and Lisa, so she played on it, trying to make it worse. “She loved the high life my uncle gave her. The parties, the shopping, but most of all, the money. What do you think she’ll do if we don’t find the emeralds? Think she’ll be happy living life busted broke and on the run?”

  Owen glared at her. “Shut up, cousin.”

  She shrugged. “US authorities want her for murder, and Caribbean pirates are after blood. There’ll not be many safe places for either of you.”

  “What are you waiting for? Get up here!” Lisa yelled from the hatch.

  Chloe sent Owen a look. “Pleasant woman. I’m sure you’ll have many blissful years together.”

  With that, she hit the rickety ladder and climbed.

  Blue skies and white summer clouds joined the rising sun as she climbed out onto the gabled pitch roof. Chloe got her footing, breathed deep the fresh air, and stared out at the picturesque view. Mason’s Island dominated the horizon across the harbor, while fish and shrimp boats wound their way through the waters.

  Owen climbed out behind her and shoved her out of the way, an angry act that let her know she’d gotten to him. The roof had a good slope to allow for snow and rain runoff, and she had to hop a couple of steps to keep from tumbling headlong into the harbor below. Or worse, the two-story drop to the ground on the yard side.

  As expected, the roof was sparse. Just moss-covered shingles, a couple of fake owls to scare off the seagulls, and a large square cupola centered on the pitch line. Finn stood beside it, waiting for her.

  “A long time ago, there was a twisted-up weathervane on that thing,” Finn said when she joined him. “I think it was a mermaid. It finally snapped off in a nor’easter several years ago.”

  He ran his fingers along the timeworn edges of the cupola. The four sides were made of horizontal slats to allow for wind flow, and he wiggled a couple, testing until he found a loose one.

  “I need a light,” he said, trying to peer inside.