2 Dead & Buried (10 page)

Inside, Jolene, Cal and Celeste were huddled over a piece of paper on the kitchen island.
 

“I hope you guys can help us decipher this poem—it’s a haiku,” Celeste said.

Morgan and Fiona crossed over to the island and Celeste slid the paper around so they could read it.

Those seeking the map

Find joy in the turtle’s dome

And under the rhomb

Morgan’s brows mashed together. “Huh? What’s this mean?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Jolene said.

“Turtle? What turtle?” Fiona asked.

“And what the hell is a rhomb?” Morgan added.

“Who knows?” Jolene shrugged as she tapped something into her smart phone. “Oh, here, it says it’s another word for rhombus … you know, the geometric figure.”

Morgan raised her brows. “This poem doesn’t even make any sense. Could it be another code of some sort?”

“It could,” Cal said. “Don’t forget it was written long ago—and probably meant for someone who would understand the hidden meaning.”

“The important thing is it seems to verify there is some sort of map.” Celeste pointed to the first line of the poem.

“Or was,” Morgan said.

“Right. Now if we only knew what it meant by turtle dome we might be on to something.” Jolene settled back into her chair with a sigh.

Morgan felt something niggle at the back of her brain. Turtle. Dome.
Why did that seem familiar?

Morgan snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it!”
 

She ran for the stairs to the attic with everyone following. At the top she surveyed the space, trying to remember where she had seen the little trunk.
 

“Mew.”
 

She should have known Belladonna would be up here and she followed the sound.

“What is it?” Fiona’s slightly out of breath voice came from behind her.

“I saw a domed box when I was up here before and I think it was made of tortoise. That could be the
turtle’s dome
mentioned in the poem.”

The cat led them to an alcove and Morgan’s heart clenched when she saw the box. She reached down and picked it up, holding it in front of her for the others to see.

Cal reached out and she handed it to him.

“This is really old,” Cal said. “It definitely could be from the era of the poem.”

His words sent a chill up Morgan’s spine.
Could there really be a treasure map inside?

“What are you waiting for?
 
Open it up,” Jolene said, leaning over Cal’s shoulder to look at the box.

Cal held it out to Morgan. “Go ahead.”

Morgan took the box in her hand, thinking how delicate it looked. A ripple of excitement surged through her like an electric current as she held the box. She grabbed the top and pulled.
 

Her heart sunk like a stone.
 

“It won’t open.” She tried to pull harder, but the box was sealed tight.

“It’s probably locked.” Cal pointed to the tiny keyhole on the front.

Morgan’s excitement deflated. “What are the odds of finding the key in this?” She spread her hands to indicate the vast space.

“Let me see.” Jolene held out her hand and Morgan placed the box in it.

Jolene squinted at the lock, turned the box this way and that then rummaged in an open trunk that was sitting on the floor. She pulled out an antique hairpin which was about eight inches long and had a large pearl on the end. She stuck the pin end into the keyhole, wiggled it around and the box popped open.

Morgan’s heart dropped when she looked inside. It was empty.

“Hey, where’d you learn to do that?” Fiona furrowed her brow at Jolene.

“Oh, I’ve been looking into some private investigator stuff online … just a little trick I picked up.” Jolene shrugged.

“Figures, it’s empty,” Morgan said. “I guess it was silly to think an old treasure map would still be in here after all these years.”

“It’s a nice box though.” Celeste took the box from Jolene.

“Very nice … and very valuable,” Cal said.

Morgan shrugged. “I guess we should put it back.”

“Wait,” Cal said. “A lot of times, these old boxes had false bottoms.”

Morgan peered over Celeste’s shoulder into the box.
 

“It doesn’t look like it has a false bottom,” she said, bending down to look at the box from underneath.

She held out her hand and Celeste put the box in it. The inside bottom was an indigo blue velvety material—worn and faded over the years. She could barely make out the pattern, oddly shaped diamonds in gold.

A jolt of electricity shot through her heart as she remembered the last line of the poem “
and under the rhomb
”. She jerked her head in Jolene’s direction. “What shape is a rhombus?”

Jolene made a face. “I think it’s like a diamond with equal sides or something. Why?”

Morgan didn’t answer. She was too busy ripping out the velvet lining. Her stomach flip-flopped when she saw the aged parchment underneath. Gently, she reached into the box and pulled it out.

Celeste, Fiona and Jolene gasped as she held it up by the corner.

“It’s the map!”
 

“Careful, that looks awfully brittle,” Cal said. “Let’s bring it over to this bureau.

He indicated a large Eastlake style bureau a few feet away and Morgan carried it over and spread it out on the marble top.

The dry parchment was tattered on the edges, the ink faded, but there was enough for them to make out a small map and some writing. The map depicted a point of land with water on three sides. Arrows pointed toward a large tree and the writing gave further directions.

“That looks like our land.” Fiona looked out the window.

“Yes!” Jolene pointed excitedly. “Here’s the Atlantic on this side and the channel leading to the cove on the other … there’s no big tree there though.”

“Maybe there was a tree three hundred years ago,” Celeste offered.

“We need to copy this so that we don’t damage the original,” Cal said.

“Right,” Morgan agreed, looking around for a paper and pencil.

“There’s a paper and pencil over by the bookcase, where I copied some of the journal,” Celeste said and Cal started off in that direction.

“Do you really think this is our yard?” Fiona asked.

“Sure looks like it.” Jolene’s eyes sparkled as she studied the map.

“There could be buried treasure right out there.” Celeste pointed out the window.

 
Morgan looked out to where Celeste was pointing, a familiar tingle forming in her lower belly. Even though her logical brain kept telling her the thought of pirate treasure being buried in her yard was ridiculous, her gut instincts were telling her something big was about to happen.

The sun was about to set by the time Celeste had copied the map. They stood in the side yard, huddled around the copy, shovels at the ready. The wind from the ocean licked at the edges of the paper, threatening to tear it from Cal’s hand.

“It says start at the tree. Anyone know where the tree was?” Cal asked.

Morgan didn’t remember any tree, so she tried to figure it out by looking at the map.

“Meow.” Belladonna sat off to the left, her tail twitching in the grass.

“From looking at the map, it looks like the tree was right about where Belladonna is.” Morgan was getting used to the cat showing up in the exact right spot and at the right time.

“Okay, it looks like it says thirty paces east.” Cal walked over to Belladonna’s spot, then turned east and took thirty steps.
 
Everyone ran over to stand beside him.

“Then ten steps toward the point. What’s that mean?” Celeste asked.

“I assume the point of the cliff.” Cal took the ten steps.

“Now three quarter turn as the sun rises.”

“Does that mean toward the east? That’s where the sun rises,” Jolene said.

“I guess so. Let’s try that.” Morgan watched Cal turn then take a few more steps indicated by the directions on the map.
 
After a few more turns and paces he stopped.

“Well, if I followed the directions correctly, this is the spot.” Cal pointed to an area of grass right in front of him.

The five of them looked at each other uncertainly.
 

Should they start digging?

Jolene broke the ice by plunging her shovel into the grass and the rest followed suit.

Morgan jabbed her shovel into the rocky ground. It wasn’t as easy as she thought it was going to be and she had to jump on the edge of the blade in order to get it to sink in. She removed a small shovel full of dirt and placed it aside.

“How deep do you think this thing is buried?”

Cal shrugged. “Who knows? Probably not too deep, I mean it’s not like whoever buried it in 1722 had machinery. They would have had to dig by hand. Just like we are.”

Morgan wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Well I hope he went easy with the digging, this could take a long time.”

“That’s why I called in a favor from a friend,” Jolene said as her cellphone chimed. She looked at the display, then jogged toward the front of the house.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at Fiona who shrugged and continued digging. Morgan’s enthusiasm waned as she looked in the hole.
 

“I don’t see any sign of treasure,” she said.

“We’re not that far down ye—”

Fiona’s words were cut off by the sound of an engine coming from the side of the house and Morgan turned to see Jolene directing a small Bobcat bulldozer toward them. She gladly set her shovel aside and waved them over.

“This is the favor you called in?”
 

“Yep,” Jolene said. “It pays to have friends that owe you. This is Randy.” Jolene went through the round of introductions between her sisters, Cal and the Bobcat operator.

They stood back while Randy operated the machine, expertly digging just a little bit at a time so as not to damage whatever might be in there.

Out of the corner of her eye, Morgan could see Belladonna about fifteen feet away, watching them, her tail flicking animatedly. She tried to focus on the digging, but her attention was drawn more and more toward the cat who was now digging furiously.

Morgan walked over and squatted next to her. “What are you doing Belladonna?”

“Meow!” The cat glanced over at her, then resumed her frenzied digging.

Morgan reached out to pet her, but the cat moved away, looked at her reproachfully, and attacked the hole from another angle.
 

Morgan noticed she’d dug about six inches down. Peering into the hole, her heart lurched when she saw a sliver of light reflecting off something.
 

What was that?
 

She reached into the hole and Belladonna sat back on her haunches, proceeding to clean the dirt from her front paws. Morgan’s fingers closed on something cool and smooth, about the size of a quarter.
 
She pulled it out.
 

Adrenalin shot through her body as she held it up to the light. The fading sun glinted off the small round object like it was gold. Morgan’s heartbeat quickened when she realized it probably
was
gold.
 

But what was it?
 

She laid it flat in her palm to take a better look. It looked like it could be some sort of coin, but the edges were unevenly cut. There was writing and images on it, but they were well worn. One side had what looked like a cross in the middle, the other a grid which reminded her of tic tac toe.

“Hey guys …” She rose to her feet holding the coin out for them to see.

Cal’s eyes grew wide. He came over and held his hand out for the coin.
 

“Where did you get this?”

“In the hole Belladonna was digging.” Morgan gestured toward the hole and Cal looked down at it, then back at the coin.

“This is an 8 Escudo—a gold Spanish coin. It dates to the early 1700s. This thing is worth about ten grand.”

Morgan looked at the Bobcat, then down at the little hole that had produced the coin.
 

“Do you think we could be digging in the wrong spot?”

“I don’t know … we’re digging where the map said.” Cal rubbed his chin. “Unless the map was in some sort of code, like instead of going right we should have gone left.”

He whistled toward the other group and they stopped and turned to look at him.

“Hey, bring that thing over here. Morgan found something.” He held up the coin and everyone came over to admire it.

“I found it in this hole. We should dig it out, just in case there is more.”

“What made you decide to dig over here?” Fiona asked.

“I didn’t. It was Belladonna.” Morgan nodded toward the cat who was now laying on the top granite step at the kitchen door.

Fiona raised an eyebrow and Belladonna stared at them, flicking her tail.

The Bobcat started up and Cal directed the operator to dig slowly, only a little bit at a time.

Morgan and her sisters stared anxiously into the hole, waiting. For what, she had no idea, but she had a feeling she’d know it when she saw it.

It didn’t take long. She heard a metallic scrape and saw something silver flash in the hole. Cal must have heard it too because he held up his hand.

“Hold up!”
 

The Bobcat shovel stopped in midair. Cal bent down and reached into the hole, lifting out a silver box. It was beautiful with a flowery carved, repousse design and gold details on the corners. Beautiful, but small, Morgan thought. Cal passed it around, handing it to Celeste, who admired it for a minute then handed it to Jolene.

How much treasure could that thing possibly hold?

She was about to reach for the box when a voice cut through the air behind her and stopped her cold.

“Hold it right there!”

Morgan’s heart froze as she turned toward the sound of the voice—Sheriff Overton.

He ambled over to them, the ever present toothpick sticking out of the side of his mouth, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face.