Plundered Christmas (17 page)

We found a fallen palm tree that was relatively dampness free on top and each took a seat.

Josie sat on one of the branches so she could face the rest of us. “So why did you make a copy, Mom? I mean, you had the map. The original.”

James answered for me. “Your mom heard some people talking last night. People who sounded like they wanted to take the map from her. So she made a copy and hid it in our luggage. That's why it took her a while to come out to join us. Right, Neenie?”

“Mostly.” I told them about what I had asked Frau Schmidt combined with what James had surmised earlier that morning.

“So someone put something in the apple cider to make us really sleepy?” Josie asked. “I'm glad I didn't drink all of mine, then.”

She looked so concerned; I had to say something. “I don't think it was anything dangerous, because we're all up and moving around. Even Justin is OK, and he had two cups full of it. Just whoever did it wanted to make sure we slept so soundly that I wouldn't notice the map being taken and none of you would wake up and see the person doing it.”

I passed around the copy so everyone could take a good look at it. “Now we know that Charlie and Margo's husband Mark found the star's letter in the water when they were boys. Margo helped us to find the one in the cellar just a couple of days ago. That leaves the one in the marsh, the one in the graveyard and the one southeast of the house, with no markers by it. I think that last one would be the hardest to find.”

“So why don't we try that one?” Josie exclaimed. “Whoever is looking for the marked spots hoping for treasure isn't going to try for something difficult right off the bat. If I were them and looking for an easy target, I'd go to the graveyard.”

James kept a hold of the map when it reached him. “The square is where the original house sat, right?”

I agreed. I reminded them that Margo had said the cellar had been a part of the original house which had burned down during the war of 1812. The cellar now sat behind the existing manor which faced northeast towards the wading beach.

James pulled out a pencil. “Can I sketch in where the manor sits now so we can use that as a starting point?”

We all agreed. When he had finished, and we had to agree he was close to the proportions, the rear of the manor covered part of the early house. It also covered part of the curved line near the top. We hadn't figured out what that was yet. If it had been a stream, like Josie surmised, I hadn't seen any sign of it during our walks around the island.

Josie looked over her Dad's work. “You draw almost as well as Megan.” Megan was Josie's best friend at home. Since Ann began to homeschool Megan, she'd made sure her daughter had art lessons and the girl had exhibited a real knack for drawing.

“Well, thank you.” Her dad half bowed since he was sitting and couldn't do the full courtly thing.

“But I was wondering…” Josie looked at the map again. “Did anyone notice that the words are where the current dock is? And that's where Miss Margo went from the compass, not any of these other places.”

I had amazingly smart children. They had to get it from their dad because they were always reminding me of these things. “You're right. We'll have to check that out, too, but maybe after the Coast Guard official is done looking the area over.”

They were ruling what happened to Miss Margo as attempted manslaughter. What was happening on this beautiful island that was worth killing for?

“All right.” James was accustomed to leading his men, so he prepared to get our troops in order. “Let's head over to the back side of manor and get our bearings.”

Quietly and carefully, we walked over the downed branches and through the scrub bushes and straw-like grass patches to the back of the manor. We made sure to stay out of sight of the kitchen windows. One, we didn't want anyone in the house to notice what we were doing. But two, and probably more important, we didn't want Jelly to sense our presence and think he could accompany us on our adventure. Later, we'd call upon our loyal dog's skills. But right now, he was helping Frau Schmidt. It was always wise to stay on the good side of a cook!

Using James's additional pencil drawing as our starting point, we tried to line ourselves up with the other points on the map. “If we start at the southeastern-most part of the house, that should set us up fairly well to find the star's location.” Standing there, I realized we were probably the closest I had been to William's still form since he was brought in the house. As we were getting lined up, I heard the familiar buzz of a helicopter's rotors.

James quickly led us to a clump of trees and brush, where we waited.

The side of the chopper said, Coast Guard, Forensics Division.

“They must be done evaluating William's body on this end. They will send him to the nearest stateside point to run the remaining checks and analysis on him,” James said.

It landed in the front courtyard, the wide open spot not too far from the benches. From our position, we couldn't see how many people had arrived. We waited for about ten minutes. It still sat there, gently spinning the rotors.

“It may take them a while, especially if they brought a coroner with them,” James said. “If we stay aligned with the east wing and head towards the fifth star, no one should notice us.” He beckoned us forward. “Even so, let's keep the talking to a minimum, OK?”

All three of us nodded, following his lead.

Based on the map and the manor that he drew in, if we headed due south from the corner where the main body of the house joined the east wing, we should almost stumble upon the star's location. That is, providing we walked straight and the terrain hadn't changed in the last three hundred years. We walked slowly, staring at our feet. The beach grass grew thicker.

As warm as it was, I had been tempted to exchange my jeans for shorts. Walking through this stiff, rough foliage, I was grateful that I hadn't.

As we walked, James looked at his watch. He had said that depending on our pace, it would be between five and ten minutes away from the house. At five, he held up his hand.

We stopped moving and scoured the ground immediately in front of us. It all looked the same to me. Low-growing shrubs, a couple of small palm trees and beach grass everywhere.

“Anyone see anything unusual?” he asked softly. One by one, he watched us shake our heads, no. “OK, from now on, we keep our eyes on the ground and move slowly. Look at each step for something, anything different than the rest of the topography.”

Step by step, we moved forward, always analyzing the ground beneath us. We kept hold of each other's hands so that we could control the pace and the view.

About a dozen steps out from the five minute point, Josie tugged us back. She was on the farthest west end of our line. “That has to be it,” she whispered, pointing in front of her and slightly to the right.

We all huddled around what she had found. It was a rock.

Now if it had been just another pebble or the boulders that made up a lot of the island's surface, I don't think any of us would have accepted Josie's judgment. But this stone was flat, level with the ground. It was obscured from view by some of the brush. Had we not been looking for it, we would have walked right by.

And engraved, right on top, were the letters HLEF—the same as on the map.

Justin took my multi-tool from me, and his dad brought out his, and our two guys dug away at the edge of the stone. Hundreds of years ago, it probably lifted easily. But now, soil and sand had blown in and around it, locking it in place with the surrounding earth.

Josie and I helplessly watched the guys chisel away the dirt. But from our vertical vantage point, we noticed before they did when it was loosening up.

“Try… “ I began.

But Josie had already crouched down next to Justin and was pointing to the clear corner. “Lift here.”

They angled both of their screwdriver parts of the tools underneath and lifted.

It came up easily, like a door in the earth.

And underneath, to no one's surprise, was a small box with the initials A.B. in gold filigree.

“This must have been her jewelry box,” I sighed.

I hadn't remembered to bring any gloves with, nor had anyone else, so using the nail file, the guys slowly opened the lid. Inside was a pair of gold earrings and another scroll.

Using the end of my shirt as gloves to keep from touching it, I pulled it out and unrolled it. The words, once again, took me back in time.

The year of our Lord, 1721, March

Little Margaret came into the world nearly a month ago. Though her dark hair comes from her natural father, James has taken her to heart. It was at his suggestion that we named her after my mother.

Would Jack have enjoyed the sight of his daughter? Or would we have deposited her with a nurse and sailed away? I am glad I have not left this one behind. I adore her more each day.

Since the child still suckles, I have not yet joined James in our venture. I will soon, though. He has already gathered a small and silent group. They achieved their first success a little over a month ago. Like the sharks that gather in the northwestern cove, he struck quickly and left no evidence of his attack.

We will do quite well, I think.

Any bounty that is too noticeable, too identifiable, we will send to Father, and he will discreetly find buyers for the item who do not object to questionable origins. Thus, he will know we continue in the trade, and we will both profit.

We have changed our name to match the island. Even so, I will stay out of sight, free of name or identity for as long as possible. Some reputations are difficult to leave behind. With mine, it has become more than I ever was. To hear the tales, I could shoot the eye out of a sparrow and would rather stab a person than befriend them. And the rumors they repeat about Mary and me? They make even this former pirate blush with shame. Day by day and year by year, the stories grow. Did you know that I used my witchery to blind the guards of my jail cell and then flew away into the night? Neither did I. Even people I worked with on the ships spread these lies and sell their tales for a bottle of rum or a piece of eight.

Nevertheless, they do not know me. They fail to comprehend who Anne really is or what I like or how I cried for days when my mother, the only angel who knew how to give me boundaries, passed from this earth. Now, in the effort to live and live long and well, I attempt to teach her lessons to my soul. When I manage to do that, I will pass those same lessons on to little Margaret.

A life well lived in love is the truest treasure. James's forgiveness and mercy as well as my little one's unconditional trust, teach me these things day by day.

I have been spared for another chance at life. I shall not waste it.

This, I certify, is my third missive to honor the promise to my father.

Anne Banet

I scanned it over after I read it out loud. No matter what this woman had done in her youth, I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. Most of those she had called her friends had died from living the rough and dangerous life of a pirate. She had watched her closest friend die in jail. She had watched her lover, the father of little Margaret, hang on the gallows. Now, she had only her husband, when at home, and her baby for company. Though it was silly, and she was long since dead, I prayed that she would find a true friend again and real peace. I wished I could go back in time, give her a hug, and tell her the world at large had forgiven her.

Josie woke me from my reverie. “Should we check the dock next? Or should we go back and get Jelly?”

While I pondered my answer to the question, the roar of the helicopter grew again, and it lifted up. I could see a gurney carried beneath it. Poor William.

“Let's take the letter, box and earrings back to Miss Margo, first,” said James. He looked down at his watch. “Maybe then we should have lunch, and then plan on taking Jelly out with us for the remaining hunts?”

I agreed. It was afternoon. And likely, unless checking the refrigerator contents had smelled him out, he'd be a big help down at the docks to see what he noticed.

We put the scroll back in the little box and shut it. Since my T-shirt was fairly big on me, I used the ends of it to pick up the box and carry it back to the house. As we were coming from the back side, we decided to enter through the kitchen rather than going around the front of the house.

I was not prepared for what greeted me when we opened the door.

Frau Schmidt was banging cupboards shut and crying hysterically. When she saw me, she stopped. “Oh, Mrs. Talbott! I am so glad to see you! I have been calling and calling.
Ich fragt Charlie, wo ist Jeanine?
He did not know and I did not know what to do.”

I went over to her to calm her, passing the box to Josie.

“Frau Schmidt! What is troubling you?” I followed where she was looking. My slobbering pooch was no longer in the kitchen.

“Such a good
hund!
And she dognapped him!”

By her reaction, I was starting to panic myself. Where was Jelly? Who had dognapped him?

James must have noticed my inability to focus.

The dog was almost as much of a kid to me as the kids. We'd had him ever since Josie turned one.

“Mrs. Schmidt,” he said. “Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

She listened. It must be that leadership stuff he does.

I found myself taking a deep breath, too, according to his instructions.

“It was that Juliana. She was using Jelly to check out the second refrigerator. I was wiping mine out with baking soda, so that everything would smell
frischt
before I started lunch. I turned when I heard the back door, and she ran off with Jelly.”

Had he barked for us and we didn't hear him because of our focus on the map and the clues? I felt horrid. I'd feel worse if anything happened to my puppy. “Do you have any idea which way she went?”