Phantom of Execution Rocks

by MJ Miller

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “This makes no sense.” Luce mumbled aloud. She’d been reading through the journal for hours. Mostly weather related complaints about illness, as best she could tell. Some of the language was difficult to understand. So far all she had was a basic route. They’d travelled from South Carolina up the coast. Each entry was either how many sails were up, the direction of the wind, the nastiness of the humidity or even the food. But nothing to explain the very existence of a ship that had allegedly gone down years before. The journal was from 1840. That was clear.

  Picking up the book she’d retrieved from the library, the one Adeline had been reading, she looked for reference information in the back. Anything to source the information presented. She’d already researched some of it through the new reparations project. Shipping companies were tasked with going back in time and reporting whether or not their ships were used in the slave trade. Not a pleasant task by any means, but necessary and filled with revelations. Even though she hated admitting it, she agreed with Andy wholeheartedly that the only way forward was an honest confrontation with history. But this particular book was too simplistic in its evidence. The author took too many shortcuts and made too many assumptions. She read the short final passage again, trying to focus not on what it presented, but what was left unsaid.

  The MorningStar; 1780-1790 Captain R S Sturgiss

  Bowers Shipping Company

  In the spring of 1790, traveling through the narrow waters between Connecticut and Long Island, the insurrection of the slaves on board The MorningStar was violent and swift. The lack of seamanship however meant they were unable to control the vessel once under their own rule. While they managed to free themselves from bondage, they perished in the darkness of the unforgiving seas.

  If the ship went down in 1790, the journal they found was a fraud. But looking at the entries, Luce knew it wasn’t. The entries were telling her something much different. She just needed to understand. And mid-19th century English was as difficult to understand as the handwriting.

  Glancing at the clock, she realized she hadn’t heard a peep from Andy’s suite next door. She knew he’d gone off to explore a bit down in the tunnels but he should have returned already. Tucking the worry away, he was a cop after all, he could protect himself, she scrutinized the image in front of her once more. It was a strange diagram. The drawings featured long tubes, several circles and arrows, along with a compass indicating direction. There was a small x mirroring itself in the upper corners, but no indication of what they were for. It reminded her of a pirate’s treasure map. X marks the spot. She scrolled to the next image, and there were two notations in particular that caught her eye; the first was a notation about a crew member, that much she could understand.

  10 June 1841 Mate duties now to Jones. H*** abandoned. NorEstr left but 2 cloths. One F lost. Search ended without success.

  It was the second name that was gnawing at her. She closed one eye, hoping to get a better angle on it. She squinted. Blurred. Until it finally was recognizable. And shocking. But it was the second notation that finally made sense of it all.

  12 June 1841 Safe passage found. Arrows left. Liberty for all leave one. Godspeed.

  She grabbed her phone and frantically typed.

  Where are you, come now. Like as in now!!!!

  She waited, holding her breath. No response. This wasn’t like him. Maybe he’d snuck in and fell asleep.

  Andy, wake up, come quick…

  When she again got no response, Luce quietly slipped into the hallway, and headed towards his suite. The door was open a crack, so she pushed it gently. Empty. The bed was made. Everything in its place. As if he hadn’t yet returned. She turned to leave, when it caught her eye. His phone. On the dresser. Flashing rapidly. She went over and looked at the screen, at the series of notifications that had gone unchecked. Where are you Andy Holman?

  The jackhammers in his head were incessant. He tried to open his eyes but failed. Even the light sound of a water drip was painful. Shifting his leg, a pain shot up through his body. Shit. What happened? He’d been in the chamber. Packing up a small collection of bone fragments that had been concealed. Then he’d followed the arrows only this time, he deliberately went in an opposite direction. The next thing he remembered, he’d awoken on the cold damp stone. In immense pain.

  He couldn’t get up. That was for certain. He could try and drag himself but to where? He felt in his pocket for his phone, but it was gone. Did it drop? He must have had it in his hand. Yes, it must have dropped. He felt around the ground with his fingers and tried to move his head and look, but the pain was overwhelming. Reaching up, he felt around his scalp, and immediately hit upon the sticky evidence of blood. Did he fall? Was he hit? He probably should have waited for Chris. Not probably. Should have. That was his own arrogant mistake. He knew better than to explore without backup. How long he’d been out he had no idea, but hopefully, someone realized he was gone. He felt himself drifting off again, somewhere where pain didn’t exist.

  “Oh my god you have got to stop eating like you’re twenty,” Luce huffed out in frustration. She put both of her arms under Andy’s limp shoulders and placed his head on her lap. “And you are so lucky I chose to wear a bra, or this tourniquet wouldn’t be happening,” she went on talking to herself mostly as Andy was barely conscious and she was bordering on a nervous breakdown.

  If she hadn’t printed out the drawing from the journal she’d never have found him. She had realized in a flash that it was a map of the underground passageways, and it had led her to another chamber; one that was very different from the one they’d found originally. The walls had an array of drawings carved on them. She only caught a glimpse of them before she spotted Andy on the ground. Shining her light, she saw the blood next to his head. And her world spun upside down. It felt like minutes but it was only seconds before adrenaline kicked in.

  She’d ripped off her tank top and wrapped it around his head, not too tightly in case his skull was fractured. All her obsessive training came back in a flood of memories. She checked his breathing. Shallow but regular. Checked his pupils. Checked his pulse. She had no bars on her phone. There was only one thing she could do, and that was find the exit. She had to call for help. She hesitated to leave him but she had to. There was no other way.

  “Don’t you dare die on me, Andy,” Luce whispered, her voice wavering. “Don’t you dare.”

  She knew there was an exit somewhere above her, the other x. But whether it would still be there? She couldn’t know for sure. Gently placing his head down on the ground, she stood, and gazed down for a moment. There was no time, she knew that. Turning, she headed at a rapid walk back through the passageways until she was back under the Library. Taking the stairs 2 at a time and hoping she didn’t fall and break her own skull, she hit the button on the panel, only nothing happened.

  “For fucks sake, not now.” She pushed it again, and again, and nothing. “Damn it all.” So she did the only thing she could. She pounded on the door and called out. She still had no bars on her phone. She yelled louder.

  And then she heard them. Voices, faint but clear. Somebody was there.

  “Thank God,” she breathed out. “We need help! An ambulance!” She hoped that even if they couldn’t get the door open, they’d hear her.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Luce awoke with a sense of déjà vu, and dread. The distinct odor of disinfectant, the tense atmosphere. People sprawled across hard back chairs, waiting for news. It was a scene she knew too well and fought too long to forget.

  She looked across the room, saw Andy’s parents. Molly seated quietly, frozen in place while Gil paced back and forth. She knew she should leave. She was suddenly despondent. This was all her fault. All her idea. She should be the one lying in some sterile triage bay, not him. She stood and headed quietly over to the exit. She could slip out and disappear. She stopped as the automatic doors slid open. She couldn’t leave. Not until she kne
w he was OK. What if he wasn’t? What if moving him, even slightly, had left him paralyzed? What if she’d done more harm than good? What if she lost him? She turned back, and keeping her head down, slid back into her chair, hoping to disappear.

  “Luce, honey, wake up dear.”

  Luce opened her eyes, trying to orient herself. A hand gently tapped her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Molly Holman, smiling softly.

  “He’s OK, right?” Luce said quickly, her voice trembling.

  “He will be dear, he will be. Do you want to see him?”

  “Do you think they’ll let me? Is he still in ICU?” Luce had no idea how long she’d slept. But it felt like forever. “I’m so sorry Mrs. Holman, this was all my fault.” She blurted it out without thinking.

  Molly sat down then, next to Luce, and took both her hands, clasping them in hers.

  “Call me Molly, and none of this is your fault, sweetheart. You saved his life.”

  Luce sobbed softly as tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t lose him Molly. I just can’t.”

  The older woman smiled knowingly and letting go of her hands, reached around and took her in her arms and held her. She knew enough about Luce from Andy to know she probably hadn’t had a mother’s hug in a very long time.

  Patting her on the back, Molly pulled back and brushed a tear from Luce’s cheek.

  “Come on, let’s go pay him a visit. He’s still in ICU, but we’ll sneak you in,” she winked. Luce managed a weak smile and sniffed. Then with a deep breath, she nodded.

  “OK, I’m ready. Say where’s Kat?”

  “We sent her to get some rest. She’ll be back tomorrow. Lionel gave her a ride. Imagine a stuffy old bird like Adeline having such a charming grandson. Who knew?”

  Luce smiled ruefully and shook her head. Funny how life moves on no matter what it throws at you.

  “Maybe you can tell me if they know what happened?” Luce still had no idea. It had all been so fast and frenetic.

  “We don’t know much, but I’ll try to fill you in as we walk. Gil? She’s ready, let’s go,” Molly called out. “Now when we get to the nurse’s station, you just follow my lead.”

  As they headed up to the ICU, Molly gave Luce an abbreviated version of what she knew from speaking with the officers on the scene and the doctors attending Andy.

  He’d been struck from behind, suffering a severe concussion, and then in the leg, fracturing a tibia. Possibly a baseball bat or a metal pipe, they weren’t sure yet. The police forensics unit was gathering as much evidence as they could, but clearly Andy was not alone in that chamber. Whoever it was got out before Luce arrived.

  “And Luce, I don’t know where you learned your first aid, but the doctors all agreed, your quick actions were what saved him.” Molly squeezed Luce’s hand, while Gil placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. He hadn’t said much along the way.

  “I took a few classes after my parent’s accident. They never stood a chance, but I vowed that if I ever had an opportunity to be there for someone else’s parents? I would. I briefly considered becoming an EMT, but I found I have an aversion to blood.”

  “Well, looks like you did get that chance to be there for someone, Luce.”

  “Maybe, but it was for selfish reasons you know.”

  Molly smiled knowingly and gave Luce a quick hug. “I know.”

  He was asleep. Of course he was. He’d been asleep the first time she’d come with his parents. And again a few hours later. This was her third attempt. Clearly the universe was conspiring against her. Well, she’d just stay until they kicked her out. She sat and simply watched him sleep. His broad chest rose and fell steadily. Her eyes took in the tufts of blond hair poking out of the gauze wrapped around his head. The minor scrapes along his jaw where he'd hit the ground. She swallowed hard, trying to remain composed.

  “I’m sorry, I’m afraid we’ll need some privacy.” The nurse was polite, but he was clear in his meaning. Time to go. Luce nodded, and stood.

  “Ok, I’ll come back later,” she murmured under a sigh. Turning to go, she stopped at the sound of his voice.

  “Luce?”

  No way she was leaving now. Her heart was beating a mile a minute as she turned back to him.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Her voice broke as she sobbed uncontrollably. The dam bursting at the sound of his voice.

  “Sorry. OK. Next time, could you not…” his voice tapered off.

  “What? Not what?” Luce whispered as she anxiously leaned closer to hear him.

  “Not… bash me… with pipe… leave me for dead?”

  “What, no, I didn’t! Oh my god, I didn’t!” Horrified, the tears gave way to anger. “How could you think that?”

  He smiled crookedly, the sedatives apparently hard at work.

  “Andrew Holman, that is not funny. Not at all.” Luce turned to see Molly in the doorway, and sighed with relief. Her smile meant he was joking, assurance he was going to be ok.

  “OK, folks, I’m going to need some privacy for a few minutes and then we’re going to move your comedian friend here to a room downstairs. He’s been cleared to leave the ICU.”

  Luce sighed but did what was asked, leaning over to give a now sleeping Andy a quick kiss on the cheek before accompanying Molly down the hall and into the elevator.

  “Listen, Luce, you’ve been here for over 48 hours. You’ve barely eaten, barely slept. Why don’t you go back to your sister’s and get some rest, a shower, a decent cup of coffee?” Molly took Luce’s hand and patted it. “Gil will drive you. I’ll stay here and see that Andy gets settled in.”

  “I don’t want to leave, Molly. I can’t explain it, but I feel like I need to stay.”

  “No sweetie, you don’t. You’re no good to him if you don’t take care of yourself. And believe me, he’s going to need all of us at full strength when he gets out of here.”

  There was no use arguing, so Luce took the offer allowing Gil to drop her at Annie’s. Maybe they were right. Maybe she did need some downtime. There was just so much to sort through, but her mind wouldn’t let her focus on anything other than Andy. The scene she’d witnessed. It was burned in her mind.

  She may have reacted quickly, sure, but now the adrenaline was gone. All that was left was the memory of the numbing fear that almost paralyzed her. The image of blood pooled around his head. The sound of his shallow breathing. The silent prayers she sent up begging not to take him just yet.

  She’d fought so hard to keep him at arm’s length, for so long, she knew somewhere in the universe the gods must be looking after her to give her one more chance. One she was determined to make the most of.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “What’s this?”

  Stuart looked up at Luce, his brows crinkled, scowling.

  “My resignation, Stuart. I fucked up. Big time. Broke the rules, and was careless. This is all on me. If he were anyone else he’d be suing our asses. I take full responsibility.”

  “Good. You should. But it doesn’t get you off the hook.”

  Luce bit her lip, knowing this could get a lot uglier than she’d thought. If the station owners wanted to, they could make it so she’d never work again. At least in Broadcast. Or Cable. Probably not even Satellite.

  “I understand. I’ll go ahead and clear my desk, but I’d appreciate it if you’d at least consider keeping my intern for the rest of the summer. This isn’t on her.”

  “Luce, sit down. Please.”

  Luce took a seat, and waited for the other shoe to drop. She’d only come in today because Andy was being brought home, and settled in and everyone was busy getting back to their lives. Except her.

  “Did they get the guy?” Stuart’s question was matter-of-fact.

  “No, not yet.”

  “Good, you find him, you get the exclusive, our ratings will be through the roof.” Stuart leaned back in his chair and nodded as if it was all obvious.

  “But nobody knows about that part of it, h
eck we haven’t even produced the first episode.”

  “You saved a life, Luce, and possibly solved a mystery. Now go find the detective’s attacker, and it’s golden. Make it work.” Stuart nodded toward the door. “Now go, I’ve got work to do.”

  “Kat, that’s a brilliant idea!” Luce jumped up off the sofa in The Holman’s living room and started pacing. “We’ll have a war room there, film it all as we dig into this. We’ll interview everyone who attended both the barbecue, and the opening night dinner.” She looked over at Molly who’d been listening, a bemused expression on her face. “If that’s OK with you and Gil, of course,” she added.

  Molly laughed, and shook her head. “Anything to get him out of our hair and back into the world again. That boy is driving me crazy.”

  Kat smiled, satisfied that everything was working out and grateful to be included in this discussion at all. She had thought it was all over as well, and when Luce texted her to get back to work she was over the moon. And she immediately thought about using her Uncle’s clubhouse as their headquarters for the project.

  “I have an idea, Luce, since Kat is going to stay here with us, why don’t you stay here as well.”

  “I couldn’t impose, Molly, though thanks for the offer. Annie has plenty of room,” Luce replied.

  “Don’t I get a say in any of this?”

  They all looked over in surprise as Andy joined them, hobbling in on his crutches, excruciatingly slowly. Luce immediately went over to help him.