Seizure(94)

“Stay away!” Chance turned and bolted down the beach.

“Wait! The boat’s in the other direction!”

But he was gone.

“We have to go,” Ben said. “Right now.”

I spread my arms. “And leave Chance out here?”

“No choice.” Hi was already gathering tools. “Shots were fired. We don’t know who heard, or if these two psychopaths came alone. Time to make tracks.”

I groaned, frustrated. But the boys were right.

Working quickly, we broke down the work site, keeping a close watch on the unconscious duo sprawled on the sand. In minutes we were packed and ready to go.

“We just leave them here?” Shelton asked. “They tried to kill us. Twice.”

“You have a better idea?” Ben grabbed the chest by one handle, motioned for Hi to take the other. “We can’t both escape with the loot and deal with police. I choose the treasure. Otherwise, what was the point?”

“Seconded,” Hi said.

“Agreed.” I shook my head to clear it. “We can plot our next move once we’re safe.”

“Okay.” With two semi-automatics tucked in his belt, Shelton looked quite the gangster.

“Ready?” Ben hoisted his end of the chest.

“Ready.” Hi lifted the other.

Shelton and I shouldered the remaining tools, buckets, and other equipment. With our flares still burning, we had strength to spare.

The boys started off down the beach.

I paused, concentrated hard, and fired one last message into the ether.

Thank you, brothers.

Moments later, canine voices yipped in the night.





BEN CUT THE motor.

Sewee bobbed in the current. We’d just rounded Isle of Palms and come alongside Sullivan’s Island. Ahead lay Charleston Harbor, Morris Island, and home.

Dawn was less than an hour away. The moon was setting, but still reflected off the ocean, lighting the night. With my flare extinguished, I was dog tired.

“Why are we stopped?” I suppressed a yawn.

“You can’t be serious.” Ben powered the lamp.

Shelton’s brows rose. “What are you, some kind of robot?”

“What?” I hadn’t a clue.

“Anne Bonny’s infamous, long-lost pirate treasure.” Hi touched his forehead, then his hand shot toward the chest. “Right there. Get it?”

“Time to open this puppy.” Shelton rubbed his palms. “After what we’ve been through, I wanna see some gold bars. Diamond rings!”

I started to protest, then stopped. Why not open it now? There was no real reason to wait, and the boys were clearly out of patience.

“First things first.” I pointed to the two handguns. “Over the side.”

“What?” Ben frowned. “Why?”

“Because we have to get rid of them.”

“The insane curators should be waking up about now,” Ben argued. “And we still don’t know who tailed us in the Studebaker. We need to protect ourselves.”

I crossed my arms. “What do you know about guns?”

“Plenty,” Ben said. “My father has a whole rack.”

“You willing to hide two semi-automatic pistols at your house?” I turned to Hi and Shelton. “How about you two? They aren’t coming home with me.”

“The guns could stay in the bunker,” Shelton said. “We could hide them in the back room near the old mineshaft.”

“We do not need guns.” I caught and held Shelton’s eye. “Are you really ready to shoot someone?”

He looked away.

“I’m with Tory,” Hi said. “I get nervous just talking about firearms. We’ve done fine so far without packing heat.”

“It’s not who we are,” I said. “We don’t need guns to protect ourselves.”

Ben sighed, then picked up both weapons and tossed them overboard.

“Now can we open it?” Hi wheedled.

I flashed a wicked grin. “Try to stop me!”

“Shoot!” Shelton shook a fist in frustration. “I didn’t bring my lock-pick set.”

Ben reached for the excavation tools. “Give me room.”

We spread out as best we could. Ben wedged a chisel against the padlock and began hammering. For five minutes the lock held. Then …

Clunk.

The hasp gave.

“I promise to still hang with you guys when I’m super loaded,” Hi said. “The swank life won’t change me. Much.”

“Open it open it open it!” Shelton squealed.

Ben moved aside. “We found it because of Tory. She has the honor.”

“Tory! Tory! Tory!” Hi and Shelton chanted in unison.

After executing a mock bow, I flipped open the latch and pushed back on the lid.

Ancient hinges creaked.

I peered into the trunk’s dark interior, the boys crowding close around me.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

We gaped, dumbstruck, eyes transfixed by the sight before us.

The chest was empty.





THE FULL MOON glowed like a spotlight, illuminating the lonely parking lot below.