Maritime Caper (Coastal Fury Book 12)

by Matt Lincoln

  “Oh, you’d love Henry,” the old woman gushed. “He’ll talk your ear off for hours about all this nautical stuff. But I’m afraid he’s been ill lately, and he went to stay with his grandson in Charleston.”

  “Ah, that’s too bad,” I said, my shoulders slumping slightly as I exchanged a look with Tessa. “I wish him well. Do you have any idea when he might be back?”

  “Ah, I couldn’t begin to tell you,” she sighed, shaking her head and laughing slightly. “You know us old folks. Something’s always breaking down on us. I just hope he makes it out of this alright, even if he has to retire and stay with that grandson of his. A handsome young man, you know, he grew up here in Walldale. And I think he married Patricia’s daughter…”

  The old woman rambled on about the town gossip as Tessa and I followed along behind her down the hallway. We met each other’s eyes, and I knew that she was thinking exactly what I was thinking: it was kind of convenient that the person single-handedly responsible for keeping track of all the museum’s artifacts all of a sudden went missing when someone was looking for Grendel’s journal.

  “When was it that the artifact collector got sick?” Tessa called after Paulina, talking over her gossip. “Sorry, I was just wondering.”

  “Oh, no worries, dear,” Paulina said, waving a hand dismissively in the air and giving Tessa a warm smile. “I would say a few months ago, perhaps. Three, maybe four? The poor dear, he must be very sick. I reached out to him, but he hasn’t responded. I hope he’s feeling better…”

  Tessa and I looked at each other again. That was right around the time that we had been in New York together taking on the mob and that Tessa’s friend George had contacted this Henry character about Grendel’s journal and the Dragon’s Rogue. Suspicious timing, indeed. Add to that the fact that the man wasn’t even responding to his friends’ inquiries, and things weren’t quite adding up surrounding Henry’s mysterious illness.

  “What are you thinking?” Tessa asked in a whisper, leaning in close to me and trailing even further behind Paulina.

  “Exactly what you’re thinking,” I muttered back. “Henry’s not where everyone thinks he is, or if he is, it’s not because he’s sick.”

  “God, you don’t think someone would hurt an innocent old man, do you?” Tessa asked, her big green eyes looking up at me hopefully.

  “I’ve learned never to underestimate people’s propensity to be awful to each other when there’s something in it for them,” I said darkly. “But I hope not. Especially not for some old pirate ship.”

  “Here we are,” Paulina said, not seeming to have noticed or cared that we’d been whispering amongst ourselves.

  We had rounded a corner and come to a halt in front of an office door at the end of the hallway, on the back wall. It had the name ‘Martha Willis’ imbued on a plaque on the front door. It was hanging ajar, perhaps in anticipation of our arrival.

  “Martha, are you in there?” Paulina called out, rapping on the door with her knobby knuckles.

  “Yes, Paulina, come in,” a voice I recognized to belong to the woman I’d spoken with on the phone the previous morning called out. “I’m so glad you stopped by. Pierce said you have some of your tourists with you?”

  We all piled inside her office, which was nice and cozy, with bookshelves lining the walls and pictures of her family across a desk. A painting of a ship in the harbor I recognized to be right here in Walldale hung on the wall behind the desk.

  The woman from the website sat at the desk, and the second she saw Tessa and me standing behind Paulina, her jaw dropped open, and she fumbled for a landline in front of her.

  “Security!” she called into it as she pressed a few buttons, her hands shaking. “Security!”

  Well, there went any hope that she wouldn’t recognize our faces as her intern hadn’t.

  16

  Ethan

  It wasn’t long before three security guards with tasers and mace showed up to escort us off the premises. Tessa and I didn’t even have time to try to reason with Martha or to explain the situation to poor Paulina, who looked like she just might have a heart attack from the whole ordeal.

  Martha had the security guards take her with us downstairs and out the back door to the garden area where Tessa and I had had that odd feeling of being watched the night before.

  “Hold on, hold on,” I said when we were out the door, holding my hands up in the air.

  I hadn’t wanted to make a scene in front of all the museum’s patrons, so I’d waited to try to reason with the security guards until we got outside.

  “It’s not negotiable,” the one holding on to my elbow grumbled. “If the boss wants you out, the boss wants you out.”

  I looked him up and down. He was bald, a bit overweight, and looked to be in his late forties to early fifties. He was chewing gum and walked with slumped shoulders. The other two guards looked similarly bored with the whole situation. One was an older guy with white hair, and the other was a gangly kid who couldn’t be more than twenty-two.

  I decided that these guys probably weren’t privy to what was going on with Martha and the museum. Otherwise, they would’ve been more nervous about the whole thing like she was. This just seemed like another day at work for them.

  “Look, guys, my name is Ethan Marston, and I’m with MBLIS,” I said, wrestling my elbow away from the bald guy and reaching into my jacket to retrieve my badge.

  “Em-bel-what’s it?” the guy asked, giving me a quizzical look and continuing to smack loudly on his gum.

  “That stands for the Military Border Liaison Investigative Services,” I said, handing my badge over to him. “It’s a federal agency. We investigate criminal activity along shorelines and sometimes in international waters.”

  The security guard blinked down at my badge, almost uncomprehendingly, and then passed it around for the other two to take a look, as well, before the young guy returned it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking it from him and returning the badge to the inside of my jacket. “Now look, I’m here on an investigation, and Martha Willis has been giving me the runaround for weeks now. I’d really appreciate that we do not do this the hard way.”

  This was only technically true. I was here on an investigation, but it was a personal one. These guys didn’t need to know that, though.

  The two older security guards exchanged a look while the younger guy took a step away from me as if he was afraid I was going to investigate him if he got too close. Paulina nearly gaped at me, looking between Tessa and me with her mouth hanging open as she continued to clutch her purse in front of her chest.

  “Like the FBI?” the older guy asked, scratching at the salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin.

  “Huh?” I asked, not sure what he meant by this.

  “You said you were with some kind of agency… a government thing,” he clarified, still scratching his chin. “You mean like the FBI?”

  “Yes, kind of like that,” I said. “Well, exactly like that, just for water and islands and things like that. We work with the FBI a lot.”

  A lot was pushing it, I thought, but we had worked with them a lot lately, so I figured that it was still technically true.

  “And she is…?” the bald guy asked, pointing at Tessa.

  “I’m a photojournalist,” she said quickly. “I help them out sometimes with their assignments.”

  Also technically true, sort of, but we were starting to push it here, so I just rested my hand on her shoulder to tell her that that was enough on that subject.

  “So… so you’re here on an investigation?” Paulina asked, seeming to have found her voice again, though it came out even hoarser than usual as she stared at me with wide, almost excited eyes. “You’re investigating the museum?”

  “The museum is a part of my investigation, yes,” I confirmed, thinking that I detected more than a hint of excitement in the old woman about finding herself in the middle of so much hot gossip. “And I really need to talk
with Ms. Willis.”

  “I don’t see Martha having anything to do with any of this,” the bald guy said, giving me a skeptical look. “She’s just a sweet old lady who likes reading old books and stuff.”

  “I understand,” I said, nodding to the man in appreciation for his loyalty to his boss. “And I think you’re right. I think that she’s gotten herself caught up in something she doesn’t understand or that someone is threatening her. That’s why it’s so important that I talk with her.”

  “You mean she could get in some kind of trouble with your agency or whatever?” the bald guy asked, scratching the back of his head.

  “It’s possible, yes,” I said with a nod. “But I’m most concerned that she could be in trouble with someone much worse.”

  “Oh dear,” Paulina gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. “You don’t think that Martha could be mixed up in anything bad, do you? She’s such a nice woman. She would never do such a thing.”

  I detected that Paulina’s concern for her friend was genuine, but also that she was excited at the prospect of being the first in town to know about whatever this was and to be able to tell everyone else about it. I made a mental note to make sure she knew she had to keep her mouth shut about this later.

  “I hope not,” I reiterated. “But again, that’s why I’m here. I just need to talk to her, is all. So if you could just let me back inside so we can clear this all up…”

  “Oh, no, sir, the boss told us to get you out,” the bald guy said, shaking his head vigorously, and I couldn’t help but sigh in frustration.

  “Uh, do you think that maybe he’s a bigger boss than she is?” the young kid piped in for the first time, jerking his thumb in my direction but taking care not to look at me himself. He was still keeping himself a safe distance away from me.

  “Smart kid,” I remarked, shooting him a half-grin, but this only seemed to alarm him more, and he slid even further away from me.

  Tessa snickered and covered her mouth to try to pass the reaction off as a cough. It didn’t work, but everyone ignored her anyway.

  “Look, I don’t know,” the bald guy said, shaking his head and looking at the older guy next to him.

  The older guy just shrugged as if to say, ‘Why are you asking me?’

  Finally, the bald guy heaved a sigh and shrugged himself.

  “I guess I can let you back in,” he said. “Seems legit and all. But if I get fired for this…”

  “My agency can vouch for you in the event that your employer attempts to take action against you for cooperating with me,” I said quickly, hoping that this was true even though I wasn’t technically on duty. I would have to be really nice to Diane for the next couple of weeks.

  The bald guy hesitated but then nodded, and I reached inside my jacket and passed around a copy of my card to each of the security guards.

  “Here’s my contact information,” I said. “You can call the top number to get ahold of my office in Miami. That’ll confirm who I am. The bottom number will reach my voicemail directly.”

  “Uh, thanks,” the bald guy said, pocketing the card, and the old guy did the same.

  The younger guy, who had taken my card so gingerly that he might as well have been afraid it was poison, didn’t seem to know what to do with his, so he just kind of stood there with it, unmoving.

  “Hey, so can I ask you guys a couple of questions before we head back inside?” I asked, suddenly thinking of something.

  “I guess so,” the older guy said, giving me a wary look that said that he didn’t think he could refuse.

  I didn’t blame the security guards for being skeptical of me. They were just doing their jobs, after all, and they probably weren’t used to anyone like me coming around. I could be anybody, for all they knew, and they no doubt trusted their boss, who was just a sweet little old lady who liked books, as they’d said. That said, I needed their cooperation if I was going to get to the bottom of whatever was going on here at the museum.

  “So, have you all worked here for a while?” I asked, and they all nodded.

  “Jimmy here’s the most recent hire,” the old guy said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder almost violently, startling him into dropping my card. “He just graduated from a community college in December. Worked here since January.”

  “Congratulations,” I told the kid genuinely as he scrambled to pick up my card and pocket it like the others.

  “Thanks,” he said sheepishly, braving a look up in my direction and smiling slightly.

  “Right, so are you only here during the day, or do you also look after the place at night?” I asked, and Tessa swiveled her head to look at me, no doubt catching on to my meaning.

  I was, of course, hoping that one or more of these guys had been on patrol at the museum the night before and that their presence there explained the strange experience Tessa and I had had in the garden. But alas, it wasn’t to be.

  “Ah, no,” the bald guy said, shaking his head dismissively. “We’re not that big of an operation. We just hang out during the day, make sure kids don’t touch the old stuff with their sticky fingers and all that.”

  “I understand,” I said, more than a little crestfallen. “So you don’t know of anyone who could’ve been inside the museum last night?”

  “I guess it could’ve been Martha,” the bald guy suggested. “But she doesn’t usually stay late. No one does. Except for Henry, sometimes, but he’s not here right now.”

  “Have you heard from Henry since he left?” I asked. All three guys shook their heads. “What about just in general? Has anything strange been going on lately at the museum? Anything unusual?”

  “Eh, the staff’s been pretty keen to avoid some guy who keeps calling about one of the artifacts,” the bald guy pointed out. “I don’t know why.”

  “And that would be me,” I chuckled. “I’m the one they’ve been avoiding. You never overheard anything indicating why?”

  They all shook their heads again.

  “Alright, thanks, guys,” I said, nodding to them each in turn. “Can one of you take Paulina home for us?”

  “Sure thing,” the old guy said, crossing over to Paulina. “I can take her.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “And Paulina, if you could please not mention any of this to anyone, for the time being, we would really appreciate it.”

  She hesitated, but to her credit, it was only slightly.

  “Of course, Agent Marston, I wouldn’t want to jeopardize an important case,” she said, puffing out her chest a little with her newfound importance, and as she and the security guard walked away, Tessa and I both laughed.

  17

  Ethan

  The younger security card, Jimmy, escorted Tessa and me all the way back up to the manager’s office. He continued to fidget and give me occasional nervous glances on the way.

  “You okay there, son?” I asked him as we rode the elevator back up to the submarine-like fish tank area on the second floor.

  “Yeah, fine,” he mumbled, staring at the floor.

  “You just seem a little nervous,” I remarked.

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” Tessa added, placing a hand on his shoulder kindly, though this caused him to flinch. “We don’t bite.”

  The kid just stood there for a few moments, staring at the floor some more, before seeming to make a decision and blurting out, “I smoked pot once, but I didn’t like it, and I never did it again, and I don’t know who the dealer was, okay?”

  Tessa and I exchanged a bemused look, and then we both burst out laughing. And here I had been thinking the kid was actually hiding something substantial about the museum.

  “I think you’re good, kid,” I chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, MBLIS doesn’t care about anything like that. But good on you for not doing it again. Keep that up. Anyway, if you think of anything about the museum or Martha Willis, just call the number on my card, okay? You still have it?”

  “Y
eah,” Jimmy said with a nervous laugh, running a hand through his mat of blond hair and pulling my creased card out of his pocket.

  “Good man,” I said, patting him on the back again as the elevator dinged open. “I think we can take it from here, okay?”

  “Just don’t let her try to kick us out again, all right?” Tessa asked him, and he nodded. “And don’t tell anyone about this just yet.”

  Jimmy nodded again, and we left him behind in the elevator.

  “Cute kid,” Tessa laughed, shaking her head as we walked past all the fish tanks once more.

  I looked back longingly at the mariner’s exhibit again, but we had work to do.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I chuckled. “I don’t know why he thought I’d care about that, but that he did means he probably stays out of trouble most of the time, anyway.”

  “Exactly,” Tessa agreed as we opened the staff door again, it having been left open for us by the security guards. “How are we going to play this, then? She’s probably not expecting us to come back to try to talk to her again.”

  “There’s no doubt,” I murmured darkly as we rounded the corner toward Martha’s office door, which was shut tight now. “Just follow my lead.”

  When we got to the door, I tried the handle. Unsurprisingly, it was locked.

  “Who is it?” the old woman’s voice asked sharply, having noticed the doorknob moving when I tried to open it.

  “It’s Agent Ethan Marston from MBLIS,” I called through the door. “Your security guards didn’t want to mess with a federal agent. They’re smart like that. You might want to follow their lead.”

  There was a long period of silence as the woman considered this.

  “I thought I warned you not to come here,” she said at long last in a hushed tone that barely carried through the door.

  “Are you aware that it’s a federal crime to threaten someone like me?” I asked her, flashing Tessa a grin that my companion quickly returned.