The Emerald Quest (6 page)

CHAPTER SIX

COPPER KEY

The Key West Library is a small white building on Fleming Street. Along with its many books, outside there is a palm garden with tropical foliage from around the world. Some days when Noah visited the library, he would sit in the garden and work on his school studies. But today he was focused on one thing only: locating the ‘Island of the Barracudas’.

“They have some old maps,” Noah said, once they were in the Florida History section. “Maybe some of them show an ‘Island of the Barracudas’.”

“Good idea,” Anthony said.

But after checking numerous maps, they still had not found the island.

“This is no good,” Juan Carlo said, rubbing his mustache.

Noah walked along the bookshelves and perused titles. “Here.” He started pulling some books off the shelves. “I’ve read parts of these. I know they talk about the history of the Keys.”

“Then we’ll check them,” Anthony said, taking a book and sitting down.

Noah brought more books to the table and began reading. They turned pages in silence. As time flew by, Noah grew more concerned. He kept glancing at a clock on the wall above the door. He finally slammed his book closed.

“We’ve been at this for more than an hour and haven’t found anything about Barracuda Island. And look at all the books that are left. This is taking too long.”

“I know,” Juan Carlo said. “But we have to keep looking.”

Noah shook his head in frustration. “I’ve got a better idea.” He had noticed that Mrs. Turner, the elderly librarian, had returned from lunch. He waited while she helped another patron, then walked quietly up to her desk.

“Hi, Mrs. Turner, I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Hello, Noah,” Mrs. Turner smiled at him. “How are your folks?”

“They’re just fine.” Noah almost choked on the words. “Um, could I ask you a question?”

“That’s one.” Mrs. Turner laughed at her joke. “Of course you may.”

“I’m trying to find out about a place around here that was called ‘Island of the Barracudas’.”

Mrs. Turner took off her reading glasses. “Now that’s a funny name. Are you sure you don’t mean ‘Key’ instead of ‘Island’?”

“It’s possible. But there isn’t a Barracuda Key either.”

“You’re right about that.” Mrs. Turner primped her silver hair as she thought. “Your parents must be looking for treasure. Did you look in the Florida Keys section?”

“We’re checking in there now,” Noah said.

Mrs. Turner stood up. “There’s one book that’s a great resource. Let me look it up.” She typed for a moment, then wrote something down. “Let’s see if this book will help.”

Noah followed her back into the Florida Keys section. Mrs. Turner scanned the shelves, then pulled out a book. “Let’s look in this one.” She opened it and flipped through pages, muttering to herself. “Hm. Nothing here on ‘Island of the Barracudas’.”

She put the book back and slowly walked along the shelves, periodically pulling a book out. She would quickly scan it and then put it back. Noah fidgeted impatiently.

“I’m just not finding anything,” Mrs. Turner said. “You’ve looked at the maps?”

“Yes,” Noah said. “None of them show an ‘Island of the Barracudas’.”

Mrs. Turner thought some more but shook her head. “I don’t know then. I wish I could be of more help.”

“Thanks, anyway.” Noah walked away, his shoulders drooping.

“Wait,” Mrs. Turner said.

Noah whirled around.

“I have an idea,” she continued. “There’s an old man who lives on Stock Island. James River is his name. He’s somewhat of a history buff about the Keys. He comes around here once in a while, although I haven’t seen him in a month or so. If anyone would know of a place around here called Island of the Barracudas, it would be him.”

Noah brightened. “Do you have his number?”

“He doesn’t have a phone,” Mrs. Turner said. “He doesn’t like them. You’ll have to drop by his house.” She wrote down his address.

“Thanks so much.” Noah hurried back to Anthony and Juan Carlo.

“I heard,” Anthony murmured to Noah. He was already getting the SUV keys out. “Good idea asking her. Let’s go.”

Stock Island was immediately east of Key West. They drove the Overseas Highway, jammed with cars headed to Key West for the weekend, and crossed to Stock Island.

James River lived in a small house on 11
^th
Avenue. The front yard was enclosed in a pink cinderblock fence. The tiny lawn seemed no bigger than a sandbox. Noah, Anthony, and Juan Carlo let themselves in the metal gate and went to the front door. Noah rang the bell.

After a few minutes, Noah sighed. “Shoot, he’s not home. Maybe a neighbor is around.” He started for the gate, then halted when he heard singing coming from the back yard.

“Come on.” Anthony and Juan Carlo followed Noah around the side of the house. He heard the song more clearly. It was “Amazing Grace”. He’d heard it in church many times.

A tall, slender dark-skinned woman was picking mandarin oranges off a tree in the center of the yard. Her shoulder-length, straight hair swirled slightly when she turned toward Noah, and her large hazel eyes sparkled. She kept singing. She looked like she was in her early twenties, and Noah thought she was beautiful.

“Excuse me?” Noah cleared his throat nervously.

“Yes?”

“I, uh, we,” Noah gestured at Anthony and Juan Carlo, “Uh, we’re looking for James River.”

The woman blinked a couple of times, sadness flooding her eyes. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry to say that he passed on a few weeks ago.”

Noah’s heart leaped into his throat. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He really was sorry the old man had died. But he also wondered if his chance of finding ‘Island of the Barracudas’ was gone, too.

“I’m his granddaughter, Deidra.” She set the oranges in her basket, reached out and shook Noah’s hand. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Mrs. Turner, at the library in Key West, told us that Mr. River was a historian of the Keys. We were hoping he could tell us about an island around here that was called ‘Island of the Barracudas’.”

“Hm. I’ve never heard of that one.” Deidra picked up the basket. “Let’s go in the house. I’m a graduate student myself, studying Florida history, so I’ve read through a lot of Poppy’s books and notes.”

“You like history, like your grandfather?” Noah asked.

“It’s in the blood.” Deidra opened the back door and let them in the house. A ceiling fan lightly stirred the hot, humid air. She set the basket down and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Poppy had a few old books about the Keys. Let’s look in them.”

Noah looked hopefully at Anthony and Juan Carlo.

They followed Deidra into the living room. One entire wall was filled with bookcases. Deidra stooped down, where worn volumes of books were laid. She ran a hand along the spines, reading titles.

“I don’t know which books would be the best.” She made a ‘tsk’ sound. “They’re quite old and Poppy didn’t take care of them very well. He should’ve gotten them out of this humidity.”

“Knock, knock,” a voice called, and the front screen door rattled.

Deidra stood up. “Mr. Thorndike, come on in.”

A wizened old man let himself in. “Hello Miss Deidra. How y’all doing today?”

“Fine, thank you. Just cleaning some things up in Poppy’s yard.”

The old man eyed the strangers.

“Mr. Thorndike, I’d like you to meet Noah, Anthony, and Juan Carlo,” Deidra introduced them. “They came here hoping to ask Poppy some questions about the Keys.”

“I see,” Mr. Thorndike said. “James and I spent a lot of years around these Keys, hee-hee. I expect I’m about as old as the Keys myself.”

“Maybe you know the place they’re looking for,” Deidra said. “The Island of the Barracudas?”

“Island of the Barracudas.” Mr. Thorndike rubbed at his gray beard stubble. “Now that takes me back. I seem to recall that folks used to call Copper Key that. ‘Cause of all the barracudas around it.” He winked at Noah.

“Really?” Noah perked up. “Are you sure Copper Key is it?”

Mr. Thorndike nodded slowly. “I believe so. They say a long time ago pirates gave it that name.”

Noah stared at him, eyes wide. “Are there really barracudas there?”

“Not anymore,” Mr. Thorndike laughed. “At least not that I’ve heard.”

“Is there a cave on Copper Key as well?” Anthony asked. “One that’s hard to dive because of the currents?”

“Yes, sir.” Mr. Thorndike answered. “I’ve heard about that cave. Supposed to be on the north side. But you can’t go there. That Key is owned by Isaiah Wright. There’s no way he’ll let you on the island.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Noah said, remembering things he’d heard from his parents.

Isaiah Wright was a recluse who had lived on Copper Key for over fifty years. He rarely left the island, where he had a full staff of house servants to take care of him, and he closely guarded his privacy. Boats patrolled the waters around the Key and sentries watched the boat dock twenty-four hours a day to keep strangers out. Wright himself was an expert marksman, and had been known to shoot at unwanted ‘guests’.

“Thank you for the information.” Juan Carlo reached out and shook Mr. Thorndike’s hand.

“You’ve been very helpful,” Deidra patted Mr. Thorndike on the shoulder. “I don’t know if we would’ve found that in any of Poppy’s books.”

Noah looked at the books on the shelves. After all that time they’d spent in the library, he was grateful for Mr. Thorndike’s information. No more perusing books, at least for now.

“Should we tell Chief Burton about this?” Noah asked as they drove off.

Anthony shook his head. “If we do, who knows what the police will do. They could keep us from looking there ourselves and delay things.”

“I think Anthony is right,” Juan Carlo said. “We must find the chest with the etched-glass pieces ourselves. That is the best hope for your parents.”

“Now I know why Dad didn’t tell me about the 4x4 cave,” Noah said. “He wasn’t supposed to be diving there.”

“And we aren’t either,” Anthony said. “But that’s not going to stop us.”

***

The sun had set by the time the
Explorer
rounded the north end of Copper Key. Located nine miles west of Key West, the thirty-acre island had a beautiful sandy beach with towering palm trees on the south side. Isaiah Wright had built himself a huge mansion close to the shore, complete with a guest house nearby. This part of the island was idyllic. But the north side was lined with a rising rocky shore leading up to a jagged cliff face. Reefs close to the shore made landing a boat here impossible. Approaching without being seen by Wright’s patrolling boats also posed a problem.

Anthony cut the
Explorer
’s engine and walked to the stern of the boat.

“Can you see anything?” he asked.