Seizure(92)

The situation was surreal. Our conversation was amiable, a friendly chat.

Except for the guns pointed at our chests.

“You guys are tough to follow.” Chris scratched his chin. “Boats. Cars. Pawnshops. It got overwhelming. Luckily, you came right to us.”

“The ghost tour,” Ben said sourly.

“You two suck at espionage.” Hi spoke from behind me. “Next time you tail someone, lose the bright red Studebaker.”

Chris’s brow wrinkled. “We drive a Prius, you dope.”

“The ghost tour business is a front, isn’t it?” I asked. “You used it as cover to search underneath East Bay Street.”

“Looking for Lady Peregrine’s roost.” Sallie nodded. “We knew Bonny’s tunnel had to be near the East Bay docks. But we combed the Provost Dungeon a dozen times, and never once noticed a loose stone. How did you know to look there?”

“What was inside the last chamber?” Greed hardened Chris’s voice. “How did you know to come to Bull Island?”

I held out a hand. “Give up the gun and we’ll talk about it.”

“You’ll tell us everything!” Sallie’s sudden anger was alarming. “We study and search for two years, find nothing, but you brats solve the mystery in one week? Impossible. You had help. Who? We know others are looking, too.”

Silence. No point in responding.

“Not knowing is killing me!” Chris said playfully. “When we lost you underground, I was sure you’d stolen our treasure. We almost didn’t bother plugging the bolt-hole, but Sallie convinced me to keep the faith.”


“Always trust your spouse!” Sallie blew him a kiss. “Thankfully, we’d planted a cell phone in your boat. That made tracking you easy. By boat, at least.”

Chris chuckled. “We even searched that ridiculous cabin top to bottom. Found nothing. It was very depressing.”

“You’ll pay for that,” Chance promised. “That’s Claybourne property.”

“Imagine our surprise tonight!” Chris was rolling. “I don’t know how you learned the treasure was out here, but thanks for doing the legwork.”

“Piss off!” Ben spat.

“Step away from the chest.” Suddenly, Sallie was all business. “And hand over the map.”

“We found the chest,” Chance said coldly. “By law it belongs to us. Even if you steal it tonight, we’ll get it back. Only we know how it was found. Good luck explaining yourselves when the police come knocking.”

“Shut up, Chance.” Hi was watching the Fletchers carefully. “These two are dangerous.”

“Your friend is smarter than you, rich boy.” Chris pulled back the slide on his Glock. “Maybe it’d be better if you disappeared. No competing claims that way, right?”

“Just one incredible tale!” Sallie’s teeth flashed. “Meet the fabulous Fletchers! Hear how they decoded an ancient map, discovered long-forgotten tunnels beneath our city’s streets, and found Anne Bonny’s lost treasure!”

“Fortune and glory,” Chris said. “Modern day Indiana Joneses. We’ll be renowned archaeologists before finishing grad school. Not to mention filthy rich.”

“People will search for us,” Shelton said in a timid voice. “Hundreds.”

“But not here,” Chris promised. “No one will ever connect Bull Island to Anne Bonny.”

“Admit it.” Sallie’s tone was taunting. “You snuck out tonight. No one knows you’re here. When your boat is discovered in Breach Inlet, everyone will assume you drowned after capsizing. One midnight cruise too many.”

“Sad,” Chris said.

“And look, honey!” Sallie pointed her gun at the gaping hole in the sand. “The kids were thoughtful enough to dig their own grave.”





THERE WAS NO time to plan.

The Fletchers had us trapped between the twisting branches of the cedar. It’d be over in seconds.

I don’t remember reaching, but my canine double helix suddenly took charge.

SNAP.

The flare burned like a brush fire out of control.

My senses exploded, battering seams at every level of my brain.

Raw energy sizzled through my body, stronger than ever before. The deluge nearly overwhelmed me.

Full moon.

We had only moments. I scanned our attackers, seeking an opening.

Sallie’s chest rose and fell. She licked her lips. Often. Too often. My eyes read “Walther P99” stamped on the barrel of her gun.

Chris’s muscles were taut as piano wire. His knuckles bulged white on the handle of his Glock.

They’d do it. More, they’d enjoy doing it. I knew this with bone-deep certainty.

The Fletchers would murder us all to safeguard their chance at celebrity.

As before, I closed my lids and plumbed the depths of my subconscious.

In my mind’s eye, I stood on an empty black field. Ben appeared beside me. Then Shelton. Then Hi. I felt Coop in the distance, disturbed, tossing in his sleep.

Fiery cables linked the five of us, connecting the group like flashing puppet strings. I reached out and touched the closest one.

Immediately, I heard Ben’s thoughts. Racing. Furious. It was the same connection we’d shared in the underwater tunnel, only clearer and sharper.