Seizure(91)

“Test the lock.” I was too amped to say more.

“They built to last back then.” Ben tugged the padlock, but it didn’t budge. “We’ll need a tool of some kind.”

“Try this.” Hi tossed him a shovel.

Ben wedged the blade against the hasp and raised a foot to stomp down.

A voice rang out from the dunes behind us.

“Enough!”

Ben spun, shovel in hand.

I sprang to switch off the lantern, then crab-scuttled back to the chest.

Chance froze, uncertain, blinking to regain his night vision.

Hi and Shelton crouched, eyes wide with fright.

“Who’s there?” I called.

Before us was a short stretch of beach that led to the dunes. Behind, the snaking limbs of the dead cedar hemmed us in on both sides. Drifting clouds temporarily blocked the moon, keeping the beach dim and obscure.

A shadow moved toward us in the darkness. My heart thudded in my chest.

The clouds parted. Moonlight poured through.

I recognized a familiar figure.

“I won’t act like I’m not impressed.”

Chris Fletcher stood a dozen yards away wearing faded jeans and a dark CU hoodie. His hands were tucked into the sweatshirt’s front pouch.

“I’m serious.” His easy smile looked sinister in the pale lunar light. “People have searched for Bonny’s treasure for hundreds of years, but you actually found it. Bravo!”

“What are you doing here?” Stupid. It was all I could think to say. Chris’s unexpected appearance had frightened me badly.

“Just out for a stroll. You?”


“You already seem to know.” Ben’s tone was granite.

“True.” Chris’s blue eyes looked cold in the moonlight. “So maybe we can cut the bullshit.”

“Who are you?” Chance was clueless. “Do you work for the Refuge?”

“His name is Chris Fletcher.” Ben still gripped a shovel. “He’s a grad student at CU, works at the Charleston Museum.”

“Don’t forget my world-famous ghost tour.”

Given the circumstances, Chris’s levity was unnerving.

My instincts screamed in warning.

I caught Hi’s eye, motioned with a hand behind my back. He nodded, tugged Shelton’s sleeve. Together they inched backward around the pit.

I edged to my left. Chris’s eyes followed me, but he made no move.

“Listen up, Grad Student Chris Fletcher.” Chance’s tone was cool. “This is a private party, and you’re not welcome. Run along.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t? Ben. Help me convince good ole Chris here that it’s past time he left.”

The two boys started forward, Ben still holding the shovel.

Chris pulled a Glock 20 semi-automatic pistol from the pocket of his sweatshirt.

The boys stopped dead. Ben dropped the implement and raised both hands.

Shelton gasped. My eyes fixed on the Glock’s muzzle, knowing its deadly power.

Chris spoke in a very low voice. “Get the picture now?”

Chance and Ben retreated a few steps.

“Good.” Chris craned his neck. “And tell the fat kid and his wimpy friend to stop sneaking around back there.”

I took a baby step left. Encountered a branch on its serpentine journey across the sand.

Go. Get help.

I was about to slip under the bough when something clicked in the blackness beside me.

Adrenaline pumping, I turned.

Sallie Fletcher faced me from across the dead limb.

Smiling, she motioned me backward with her own gun.

“They came alone.” Sallie slipped around the branch and walked to Chris’s side. “Just one boat, anchored near the northern point.”

“I expected nothing less,” Chris replied. “These kids are incredibly resourceful.”

Chance, Ben, and I stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the treasure chest. Hi and Shelton were behind, on the far side of the hole.

The cursed tree had us trapped. The only exit was straight through the Fletchers.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Let’s start with answers. How’d you discover Bonny’s escape route? Who told you to look in the Provost Dungeon?”

“No one. We figured it out ourselves.”

“It was you in the tunnels.” Ben’s voice sounded menacing, despite our situation. “You tried to kill us.”

Chris ignored him. “You just figured it out? Impossible. Sallie and I researched Anne Bonny for two solid years. All you did was swipe a worthless map.”

“Map?”

Sallie laughed. “Did you really think you could steal an artifact that easily?”

“I didn’t notice at first.” Chris sounded amused. “But something about you guys seemed … off, so I checked the case the next day. Guess what? No map.”

“Why didn’t you report it stolen?” I was genuinely puzzled.

“We couldn’t believe you swiped it.” Sallie shook her head. “The crime was so audacious, so reckless! You had to know something. We decided to wait and see.”

“Her plan.” Chris squeezed his wife’s side. “And it worked. Glad I listened.”