by Matt Lincoln
“Jesse is waiting at the house,” he assured us. “Anything they couldn’t do for your wounds on the boat, we can do there.”
“Thank you,” I muttered. I wanted to yell at him for keeping Holm’s condition from me, but I couldn’t muster the strength at the moment.
“Are you sure we can’t take them to the hospital?” Tessa begged in a tone that suggested this wasn’t the first time she asked. Farr sighed and looked over at her, his hand hovering over the shifter.
“I’m sure,” he replied calmly. “There are multiple bullet wounds. Hospitals ask questions.”
“Isn’t their safety more important than that?” She sounded like she was on the verge of panic, but her uncle stayed calm.
“Their safety is of the utmost importance,” he insisted. He shifted into gear and began driving back through the gates. The sky was still dark, though the morning wouldn’t be too far off. “The scene they left behind will be found by law enforcement. They will be searching for gunshot victims in hospitals. This isn’t the first time I’m reminding you that we are operating outside the law here. We need to keep these injuries under the radar. Besides, Jesse is the best there is. He can handle this.”
Tessa pouted but knew better than to argue further. I managed to reach forward and rest my hand on her forearm. She turned and offered me a sad smile, and I returned it.
“Thank you for looking out for me,” I groaned. “I trust Farr. He’s right. This is the best way to do this.”
Tessa nodded silently, and I slipped away from her as I collapsed against the back of my seat. It had been painful leaning forward to touch her, and I wasn’t going to be able to continue to do that for the duration of the trip.
When the familiar gates of the military base came into view, I began to breathe a little easier. As we rounded the last corner and headed toward the house, I saw Jesse’s car and was immediately grateful.
Tessa eased me down out of the SUV and helped me hobble my way into the house. Warner and Bonnie were both anxiously awaiting our arrival, and after quickly cheering me on, they ran outside to help get the rest of the team out of the vehicle and into the house. Since I was the first one through the door, I was the one that Jesse began working on first. He worked quickly and efficiently, redressing the wounds and assessing the damage as I stripped down to my white t-shirt and pants. Tessa ran upstairs to grab a pair of gym shorts for me so that Jesse could deal with the wound in my calf, and before long, I was sprawled out on the couch, drinking water and waiting for the pain medication to kick in.
“So, what’s the plan now?” Header asked as he approached Jesse to take my place on the ground. “Are we done? Are there any more strings?”
I looked over at Farr, who looked a bit too serious for such a major victory.
“I need to make a few phone calls,” he said tentatively, “but yes, I think we’ve done it.”
“What phone calls?” Bonnie asked. She had perched herself at the dining room table in an attempt to stay out of the way.
Farr sighed. “I know we did this for the Holms, and it will take time to follow the path and make sure they are safe. We also did this for MBLIS, though, and that is a much more concrete path to follow. I will be making some calls over the next few days to ensure that the puppet strings have well and truly been severed, but from the looks of it, we’ve done what we set out to do. The head of the Mezzanotte mob was dead, along with several other bosses. This was a major success. So even if there are loose ends, there won’t be many, and it should be easy to clean up.”
“So, we can celebrate?” Warner asked from his seat across from Bonnie.
Farr beamed for the first time. “Yes. Yes, we can celebrate.”
From the floor, I heard Header belt out a loud cheer. I chuckled from my seat, and the laughter and cheers that followed lifted our spirits.
“In that case,” Tessa announced once the noise had settled to a more reasonable level, “I came prepared.” She flounced into the kitchen, causing my heart to skip a beat, and pulled out a bottle of nice champagne.
“A victory drink, anyone?” she sang, and the room erupted with joy again. She took her time popping the cork and pouring the champagne into small plastic cups. It wasn’t the most elegant way to drink champagne, but it was the thought that counted, and it would taste just the same to me.
“You guys are pretty seriously hurt,” Jesse interjected as they passed the cups around the room. “Alcohol thins the blood. With your injuries, you really shouldn’t…” His voice trailed off as he looked around the room. “No one is going to listen to me, I take it.”
“Nope!” I announced, holding my cup as high into the air as I possibly could. “To the safety of friends and family, and to a well-funded place of employment!”
Everyone’s cups raised up with mine, and together we drank and laughed while Jesse continued to work his way through our team’s injuries. One by one, Header, Paul, and Jay all joined me in the living room. Once we were all taken care of, I turned to Tessa.
“Is there any more champagne?” I called out to her. “Jesse needs some.”
Jesse opened his mouth to argue, but he closed it quickly. I was sure that between the extent of our injuries and the fact that none of us were ready to heed his advice, he needed and deserved that drink.
We spent a good portion of the morning discussing the details of the mission and making plans for dinner the next day. Farr had wanted to treat us to a five-star meal before we left, but in our current condition, we had to make a few adjustments to his plan. He ended up coordinating with the kitchen staff of his restaurant of choice, though, and scheduled an at-home restaurant experience for us the next evening.
In the meantime, Bonnie and Warner busied themselves in the kitchen, cooking up bacon and eggs and French toast for the whole crew. With most of the crew busy talking amongst themselves, Tessa took the opportunity to sit beside me and fill me in on her evening.
“I finally called George back,” she said softly as she sat beside me on the edge of the couch cushions. “I felt bad about hanging up on him the other day in the middle of discussing our map discovery. I explained the situation, and he said he is happy to come up here and discuss Winston Marcus’s journal with you. This way, you won’t have to worry about traveling if you’re injured.”
“That’s mighty convenient,” I teased, looking down at my battered body. Tessa giggled lightly.
“I didn’t think you’d be quite this bad,” she admitted, “but I’m glad I took the precaution. He will be here tomorrow afternoon.”
“Perfect,” I nodded. “That gives me a bit of time to rest up.”
“I agree,” she grinned. “I hope after breakfast, you get to rest.”
“Mmm,” I groaned happily. Sleep sounded like the most amazing thing in the world at the moment, though I knew that putting some food in my stomach was a smart decision.
When breakfast was ready, I demolished my plate without moving from the couch, barely taking the time to taste any of the food. Tessa saw my heavy eyelids and took my empty plate before calling on Warner to help her get me up the stairs. Once they set me up in bed, I thanked them profusely and then sunk into a deep, restorative sleep.
Chapter 30: Tessa
Ethan had slept most of the day and all through the night, and although she missed him, Tessa was glad that he was able to rest up and heal his injuries. George was set to be at the house at two in the afternoon, and she wanted Ethan to be able to enjoy his experience fully.
Paul and Jay had said their goodbyes earlier in the morning when their buddy swung by to pick them up, so after lunch, Jake and Ethan made themselves comfortable in the living room as we awaited George’s arrival. Bonnie and TJ cleaned up the kitchen and then sat by the computer in the corner, alternating between researching the aftermath of the shootout and gossiping about George’s upcoming visit. By the time the doorbell announced George’s arrival, Tessa could have sworn that Bonnie and TJ were more excited abo
ut his visit than Ethan was.
Tessa opened the door to find a man with a weathered face and kind eyes. He clutched a large brown leather briefcase in one hand.
“You must be George,” she said, stepping back to welcome him into the house. He smiled at her and stepped over the threshold.
“You must be Tessa,” he replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she beamed. “Come in. I’d like you to meet Ethan Marston.”
When they entered the living room, Ethan groaned as he attempted to sit up. George rushed over to him and waved his arms insistently.
“Don’t get up. Please don’t get up.” He reached Ethan’s side and shook his hand enthusiastically. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. You are the man that dove and found what I’ve spent my life searching for.”
“To be fair, it wasn’t what I was looking for,” Ethan chuckled. “It’s the closest I’ve gotten to my goal so far, so that’s something.”
“That is something,” George agreed. He looked around the room, and his eyes landed on Tessa’s notepaper map. He chuckled and pointed at it. “This was pretty genius, I’m not going to lie.”
“Tessa figured it out,” Ethan admitted. “I still don’t know what it means, though.”
“I do,” George announced with a mischievous grin.
Tessa grabbed a dining room chair and carried it into the living room for George. She perched at the edge of the sofa and rested a hand gently on Ethan’s leg. When she locked eyes with him, his smile warmed her heart.
“Please tell us,” she insisted. “We’re dying to know.”
George chuckled and gestured to the coffee table. “May I?”
Tessa nodded and leaned forward as George set his briefcase down on the table. When he opened it, it was filled to the brim with papers and maps. He pulled out a map of the East coast and spread it out across the bare surface of the table.
“As you can see from your map,” he said, gesturing behind him to our notepaper map, “there is a gap in the coastline.”
Tessa sat up straighter and looked over at her collage. She’d known it wasn’t perfect, but she hadn’t considered that something might purposefully be missing.
“What does that mean?” Ethan asked, struggling to sit back up. Tessa tightened her grip on his leg in an attempt to keep him from straining himself too much. He narrowed his eyes at her but relented, sinking back against the pillows.
“It means there was something he didn’t want someone to find,” he pointed out slyly. “Check this out.”
George traced the coastline down from the tip of Maine down, slowing to a stop at the southern end of Virginia. Tessa studied his movements before looking back at the wall.
“Virginia’s shoreline is smoother,” she pointed out.
“So what?” Ethan commented. “The shoreline has changed over the years.”
“Sure,” George nodded. “The Chesapeake Bay didn’t grow overnight, though. I’ve pulled plenty of old maps out over the years, trying to trace the path of the Searcher’s Chance. The bay was there.”
“It is a crudely drawn map,” Ethan suggested. Tessa cocked her head in Ethan’s direction. She wondered why he was fighting this information so much. He met her eyes and shrugged. “It’s a genuine statement. I’m not trying to argue.”
“Crudely drawn? Perhaps.” George smoothed the map out onto the table again. “This one spot is the least focused area on the entire map. Marcus took the time to draw all of the other inlets and bodies of water except for this one. That’s telling.”
“Of what?” That question came from the corner where the computer had been set up. When everyone turned to that corner, Bonnie’s eyes widened, and she shrank back a bit. “I’m sorry. Don’t mind me. I’m just dying of morbid curiosity over here.”
George chuckled lightly. “I don’t mind at all. This is my life’s work here. I am over the moon. Ask all of the questions. If I can’t answer them, then it gives me a reason to keep digging.”
Bonnie grinned widely at him. “We’ve been following Marston’s progress on this ship since the beginning. It’s safe to say we’re all invested.”
George turned back to Ethan. “You’ve got a good team here.”
Ethan cleared his throat and looked up at George. “They’re the best.”
George turned back to Bonnie. “To answer your question, the missing bay on the map is telling. He avoided detail to avoid drawing attention to that area. I believe something happened in that area that he was trying to keep hidden.”
“He was chasing after Grendel,” Ethan pointed out. “Do you think that’s where he caught him?”
“Perhaps,” George shrugged. “More likely, I think he hid something there.”
Ethan’s eyebrows shot up with interest, and Tessa could see him putting the puzzle together in his head.
“Are you saying we need an excursion to Virginia?” Ethan asked.
George chuckled to himself and opened another map, this one zoomed in on the Virginia coastline. “The fascinating thing about this entire area is that it is drenched in history. The thing we need to figure out is exactly where Marcus is leading us.”
“How do we do that?” Ethan asked. This time, he pushed himself upright much to Tessa’s chagrin. She could tell that he was too engrossed in this story to be able to sit still.
“Well, I made a few phone calls to some friends of mine in the area,” George continued. “There is a maritime museum in Newport News. They focus on a lot of the history behind the waterways of Virginia, and one of my contacts there is responsible for collecting and cataloging all of the incoming artifacts.”
“That sounds like a cool job,” Tessa gushed.
“Oh, it is,” George nodded, exchanging a knowing look with her. “He sees everything first and verifies its authenticity. The thing about these old pirate ships and their hidden treasures is that a lot of those treasures have since been uncovered.”
“Wait,” Ethan stilled beside Tessa, “they found it?”
George nodded proudly. “They found it.”
“What the hell is it?” Bonnie blurted. She shrank back again, but she refrained from an apology.
George let out a deep laugh before continuing. “Have you ever found any of Grendel’s journal pages?”
“Shut up!” Bonnie bolted upright, causing both Ethan and George to burst into laughter. Ethan recovered quicker, though, and refocused the conversation.
“Do they have more journal entries?” he breathed as if he was afraid to hear the answer.
“Hmm, so you have found a few pages,” George deduced.
“Yes,” Tessa murmured, astonished by this potential discovery. “They led Ethan to a wife in… the Bahamas?” She looked to Ethan for confirmation.
“That’s right,” Ethan nodded. “Grand Bahama, on the West End.”
“Interesting,” George mused. “They have an entire journal, but it seems to have a few missing pages.”
“An entire journal?” Ethan went from joyful surprise to groaning in pain as he realized he had bolted upright a bit too fast. He clutched his side and sank back down. Tessa shot him a reprimanding look that he ignored, but she rubbed her hand on his leg in a small attempt at comfort.
“An entire journal,” George confirmed. “I asked them to process the pages and forward them on to me, but I haven’t gotten the pages yet. It’s a painstaking process, so it will take some time.”
“So, we don’t need to go to Virginia then?” Ethan chuckled.
“No trip necessary,” George assured him. “I’ll forward you the files as soon as I get them.”
George’s tone indicated that there was more to his story, so Tessa leaned forward on the couch.
“What are you not telling us?” she pressed.
He smiled at her, the lines in his weathered face deepening. “You’re intuitive. I like it. I do know a lot about Grendel due to Marcus’s ramblings in past writings I have found. I know that Mar
cus hated Grendel’s habit of giving his pilfered findings to those that were struggling. Marcus believed in working for your riches, and if you were poor, it was your own fault. Marcus didn’t bother paying attention to who he stole from, and he didn’t share his wealth. He thought Grendel was a poor excuse for a pirate. Neither of them was a good man, but at least Grendel tried to share his wealth.”
“Marcus sounds like a real jerk,” Tessa observed.
“That’s the nice way to put it,” George teased. “From what I was told, this journal of Grendel’s was rife with paranoia and worry. He was incredibly paranoid, the kind of paranoid that generally leads to…”
“Death?” Ethan guessed.
George sighed. “I was going to say the truth, but yes. Death is appropriate, too.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “Are you saying this may be his final journal?”
“If it isn’t, I’d be highly curious about reading his final journal. Paranoia only tends to get worse, not better.” George sat back with a raised eyebrow. “I think that once you get your hands on this journal, your search will be over sooner than you think.”
“That would be amazing,” Ethan gushed. “Although I have been working on this for so long, I’m not sure what I’d do with all of my spare time once the search is over.”
“Ehh,” George shrugged. “You found my ship. That doesn’t mean I’m done learning. There’s still plenty of information out there. I simply need to find it. My search may be over, but I’m not done.” He grinned confidently at Ethan, and Ethan returned his smile. “Anyway, that’s all I have for the moment. I think the journal will be your key, and I’m happy to help if you need anything else.”
“Thank you, man,” Ethan replied, his tone genuine and grateful. “This was a great step forward. I’ve never felt so close to the truth.”