by fox, angie
He seemed utterly convinced, and for that, I was grateful. "You're a good man, Mayor Steward."
He passed his cane to his other hand and reached out to shake my hand. The old man's grip was firm, even if his skin felt soft and paper-thin.
"You're a good girl, Verity Long." He gave my hand an extra squeeze. "Your Grandma would be really proud of the way you're taking care of her house."
It touched me that he understood in that way. Of course he loved this place as much as I did. "I'm glad I stayed in Sugarland."
His eyes twinkled and his mouth curved into a smile. "Me, too."
Chapter Fifteen
After my talk with the mayor, I figured I'd better be on top of my game. And so I made a quick stop before continuing on to the Wilson's Creek property. Yes, I'd be a bit late to meet Ellis, but he'd forgive me when he saw what I had. I couldn't help but smile. I hoped he liked surprises.
This one fit neatly into the trunk. Well, as long as I smushed my assorted bags, catalogues, and coupon books to the side and tossed my jumper cables in the back seat.
I slid into the land yacht and stowed my hemp bag on the floor of the passenger side.
"You doing okay, Frankie?" I asked. He hadn't bugged me much when I talked to Melody, or at all when I spent time with the mayor. "Frankie?"
I half expected him to shimmer into focus, sitting on the seat next to me. He didn't.
I supposed I should be glad he was resting up in the ether. I hoped it was comfortable.
The urn in my bag rattled as we bounced over the older, rougher roads south of Main. Thick, mature trees lined the road. The neat, bungalow-style houses along Magnolia Street had stood since the early 1900's. I loved the wide variety of styles and personal touches as well as the inviting porches. No two were alike.
I fiddled with the radio as the town gave way to country roads and farms.
"Are you with me?" I asked Frankie, as we turned right onto the drive.
Silence.
There were times when I didn't mind him quiet. Believe me. But this had me worried. I needed him tonight.
The old brick carriage house hunkered under gray skies as I pulled up. Perhaps it looked more ominous because I knew what resided there. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. If I couldn't see the spirits lingering on the property, if I had no warning before a poltergeist attacked, it could get ugly.
Ellis sat on the front steps, taking a break, and oh my—he looked filthy. His gray t-shirt stuck to his chest and arms and a layer of dust coated him from head to toe. A construction helmet lay at his feet and his hair spiked up like he'd been rubbing out a serious case of hat head. I did a double take when I saw his gun holstered at his side, but I supposed he couldn't be too careful.
I parked next to his black Jeep and put on a brave face as I slammed my car door shut.
"Tough day at the mine?" I asked, going for a little levity.
He grinned and poured lemonade from a round cooler. "I was excavating the tunnel."
My chest pinched at the thought. "I'm glad you're okay. Did you find anything?"
"Stale air, rocks," he said. "I got closer to the cave in. It looks old."
"You shouldn't go down there," I said, trying to think of the best way to bring up Mayor Steward's warning. And his revelation about the cliffs.
So I went behind your back and talked to the previous owner of the property…
"Want some?" he asked, holding out an empty glass for me. When I hesitated, he went ahead and poured. "Homemade from the diner," he said, pressing the cool glass into my hand. It was a genteel kind of offer, a very southern one, even if it came from a beat up cooler leaning against the crumbling porch. "I also grabbed us some cold chicken," he added. "Since dinner time's coming up."
My stomach growled at the thought. I hadn't eaten anything but granola bars and Life Savers all day. "You're spoiling me here," I told him, embarrassed that he'd done all of it, and that I liked it.
Of course I couldn't get used to it. I was about to torpedo the good will we'd built.
I took a sip of lemonade. It tasted sweet and refreshing with the right amount of tart.
"Maybe I just don't want you to quit," he said, glancing at me as he tightened up the cooler lid.
I tried not to read too much into that. Last night had been a disaster by all accounts. Of course Ellis wanted to stay and protect his property.
I needed to tell him about what could be buried out back. He deserved my honesty and he also needed a true picture of who could be poking around.
"Listen," I said, placing my glass down. "I did some investigating on my own. I stopped and talked to the mayor on the way over here."
"Thad Steward?" Ellis's shoulders tensed as he turned to face me. "I asked you to keep our arrangement private."
"He's not a gossip. And we need to know more about what's happening here."
He pressed his lips together. "And you think he's the one to tell you."
"He drew me a map of things to look at today," I said. "And he told me not to show it to you. I don't think he's made peace with your family yet," I added guiltily.
He flinched at that. "Who else did you tell?"
I drew back, offended. That was assuming a lot. Although I couldn't get too miffed because he was right.
"I told my sister Melody," I said, trying to make it sound as innocent as possible. Who was I kidding? It was innocent. I didn't share his story around town for kicks and giggles. I was looking for answers, same as Ellis. "I thought someone in my family ought to know where I am, just in case something happens. Besides, she did some research at the library and learned that you may have goodies from a 1920's jewel heist buried out back by Wilson's Cave."
He stiffened. "I know where that is."
"The mayor confirmed it. He also told me about the tunnel you were in and said it's been in danger of collapsing for years."
He made a dismissive noise. "The old man hadn't been down there in decades, I guarantee. Thad can barely walk a flight of stairs."
"So you think it's grown more stable over time?" I'd rather be safe than sorry when it came to cave-ins. "There's a ghost down there asking for help. Another trying to block us from the place."
"And the poltergeist in the kitchen," he finished for me.
"That about sums it up," I said.
Ellis sighed. "We should stick to the kitchen tonight. I need you to solve my vandalism problem first."
"I agree," I told him. "But your ghost always comes after dark." And Frankie hadn't even lent me his power yet. I hadn't specifically asked the gangster, but from what I'd experienced, it appeared he had more power at night as well. "In the mean time, we need to explore every lead we have. It'll give us the best chance to figure out what's going on around here."
He shook his head. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"
Of course not. "Maybe there's another underground tunnel from the kitchen to the cliffs out back. It can't hurt to check it out while we still have some daylight left. Come on," I said, standing. "I have a surprise for you."
A grin flashed across his features. "Lady, you're a walking, talking surprise."
He had me there. "You find it charming. I know you do." I drew the keys from my pocket. "You're going to like this even better."
He followed me to the car. "I can't wait," he said with a touch of irony as I popped open the trunk.
Maybe this would wipe the smile off his face. I presented my find with the panache of a Price is Right model. "This is the Garrett ATX ultimate multi-frequency detector. It has a military grade design, advanced pulse-induction technology, and the new DD coil design for enhanced sensitivity."
"It's a metal detector," he said, a little underwhelmed considering what he had in front of him.
"It's the George Clooney of metal detectors," I corrected. "I borrowed it from Lauralee."
Her husband made a hobby of hunting for civil war memorabilia, things like belt buckles and lead bullets, and even
the occasional pocket watch.
Of course he'd needed the Garrett ATX metal detector. Well, Lauralee hadn't been so happy about that. She'd thought the military grade design and the "deep seeker" package with a super steady hand grip was overkill.
For my purposes, it was ideal.
"This can search up to twenty feet deep," I told Ellis. He needed to get how impressive this was. "We can also submerge it in up to ten feet of water."
"I sure hope we don't need to do that," he said.
"I hope we don't either, but it's nice to know we can," I said. "If we don't get any pings, then we'll know the cliffs are a bust. We can focus on hunkering down in the carriage house and we'll just cross our fingers that the poltergeist attacks us tonight."
Ellis gave me the once-over. "That's very practical of you." He held the metal detector for me as I closed up my car and slung my bag over my shoulder. "I can't believe I'm doing this."
"You'll see," I said.
***
We headed for the woods at the back of the carriage house. The trees and shrubs grew tall there, wild with tangled blackberry vines and undergrowth. I could hear the river churning far below. The drop-off had to be steep. And close.
"I'm going to have to fence this off before I open," Ellis said, carrying the metal detector easily as we navigated the uneven ground. "The trails down to the river are downright dangerous."
"I'll stick close," I promised.
Movement rattled the woods to the left and I jumped as a man emerged from the brush. He wore a brown jacket and jeans, and seemed to be as startled by us as I was by him.
"Harry," Ellis said, his voice warming.
The handyman appeared even grungier up close.
Harry tilted his head up, frowning. "Hey," he said, his voice rusty, as if he never used it.
He could have been handsome if his face weren't gaunt and unshaven. He wrapped his jacket around his body and brought his shoulders up.
"My name is Verity. I'm working here too," I said, smiling even though he had a wildness to his eyes that made me distinctly uncomfortable.
He gave a curt nod.
"We're heading down to the cliffs," Ellis said, as if he were having a conversation with a normal person and not some guy who looked like a wild mountain man. "If you've got a minute, I'd like if you could show us the best way down to Wilson's Cave."
Harry angled his head away. "I got glue drying. Got to put the tiles up now."
"We need five minutes," Ellis said.
The strange man's breath came harder. His eyes darted from side to side. "It'll dry. I'll have to scrape it." Panic tinged his voice.
"Hey," Ellis said. "No worries. Go take care of your gluing. We'll take the curved path, the one that washes out at the bottom."
Harry nodded in agreement and brushed past us.
I watched him go. That man was odd on top of strange. Truth be told, I found myself glad he didn't come along. Besides, if he had taken this job to dig up treasure on the side, he'd be hindering us instead of helping.
"Come on." Ellis led me to the break in the woods. "Don't let Harry get to you," he added under his breath. "He's a good guy."
We'd see.
I glanced back and saw him standing at the back of the carriage house, watching us. He frowned as I pushed through the opening in the brush.
Insects buzzed all around me. I batted back tree limbs and thorny bushes and scratchy parts of Lord knew what kinds of plants.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Think of it as a nature walk.
In the South's version of a jungle, on the edge of a cliff.
The hill sloped downward fast and I had to brace myself as the path curved sharply to the left. Railroad ties supported it along the sides, but some of those had fallen down the hill. The rest sagged under the tumbling weight of the trail.
"You okay?" Ellis asked, as he waited for me to catch up.
"Yes," I said. "Of course." Bits of rock and earth dislodged under my feet as I moved slowly, carefully. A natural spring bubbled from the rock face next to me, spilling a steady trickle of water over the trail. What a lovely way to make it even more slippery and unstable. Go, nature.
I never could have dragged the metal detector down here by myself. "Wait," I said, as Ellis pulled ahead. I stopped and pulled the mayor's map from my bag. His hastily drawn curve didn't at all accurately portray the steepness or danger of this trail. I hoped he hadn't underestimated the rest.
"Sorry," Ellis said, steadying himself against an ash tree. "It's harder to go slow."
"I'm going to forget you said that." I wiped the sweat from my forehead and shoved back the hair tangled in it. Leaves rustled in the trees and I felt the steady, low presence of something. "Do you feel that?" I could have sworn I sensed movement behind me, a chill in the air. But when I turned, I saw nothing. Only leaves, trees, and shadows.
And here I'd believed the mayor had been trying to scare me.
"We're almost there," Ellis said, encouraging me as we continued down.
The hillside grew steeper and I heard the bubbling of another stream farther down. It emptied out into a pool near a rock face below. I could see the glistening water through the thinning leaves on the trees.
A leaning juniper bush caught my eye. I used it to brace myself and peer over the slippery shale overhang. Below, I saw a larger overhang on the edge of a steep cliff. Great.
"You can do it," Ellis said, reading the fear in my eyes, the stiffness in my movements as I picked my way down the rest of the trail. I wasn't cut out to be a mountain goat.
I leapt the last few feet to get it over with.
"Wilson's Cave," Ellis said, nudging the nose of the metal detector toward the small opening burrowed into the hillside we'd tackled. I realized with a sinking in my gut that the opening stretched about five feet across and three feet high. There couldn't be a lot of hiding places in a space that small. I found the flashlight on my keychain and shone it inside. The dull grey rock arched back about eight feet, narrowing as it went, until it ended in a cluster of leaves and debris.
"It looks like something may have built a nest back there," I said, panning the light over the sticks and twigs.
"Bobcat," Ellis said with certainty.
The light in my hand jumped as I whirled to glare at him.
"Kidding," he grinned.
Yes, well, as a police officer, he may be good at joking around in serious situations, but I found my nerves to be a bit prickly at the moment. "I need the metal detector," I said.
It felt weird to be five feet from the edge of a thirty-foot drop-off. But we'd made it down here and I'd gotten us the equipment we needed to see if there was still any truth to the rumor of treasure. I had to think it would have been picked clean by now. Metal detectors had been around for decades.
Of course, I had the monster of them all.
Ellis wiped the sweat from his forehead as I powered it up. His lips quirked. "And here I thought you weren't a Ghostbuster. That looks about as complicated as a proton pack." He moved closer. "You need help?"
"Lauralee showed me how to work it," I said, adjusting the sensors, calibrating like an expert, "plus it's light enough for me." At about thirty pounds it would wear on me eventually, but he didn't need to know that. "Let's start here," I said, hovering over a spot of dirt and rock at the entrance. It didn't look at all special.
We'd see soon enough.
"You're enjoying this," he said, giving me a lopsided look as I pulled out a pair of deluxe submersible headphones.
"You're right," I said. No harm being honest about it. I'd done too much worrying lately—about the house, about my finances, about a ghost trapped on my property. It felt good to have a problem that I could actually do something about.
Either there was treasure here or there wasn't. I liked the certainty. And the idea of buried loot.
I swept the round sensor coil over the entrance to the cave. Nothing. I marked the searched area wi
th a swipe of my foot in the dirt. I backed up a step to make sure I had the whole entrance covered before we moved inside. With uniform precision, I made another pass.
Ping.
"Ha!" I said, admittedly loud because after all I was wearing headphones. I swept the scope of the detector over the rocky soil. Ping. It grew louder. I moved the scope toward Ellis's work boots. Ping. And then up and then all the way to his pocket.
"Oh," he said, pulling out a pair of keys. "Wait," he added when he saw my disappointment. "I found this in the tunnel."
In his hand, he held a rusted decorative button shaped like a daisy.
I braced the detector against my leg and took the button from him, turning it over. "What is that? From the 60's or something?" I didn't think Victorian women wore trendy buttons.
"Exactly. Here," he said, retreating. "I'll get rid of this and anything else I still have in my pockets."
I watched him stash his things on the rock face behind us. "You can put it in my bag," I called to him.
Dang. He'd see Frankie's urn. I didn't feel like explaining why I carried it with me. While I was borrowing trouble, I also didn't like that my bag was only a few feet from the edge. But we couldn't have our stuff on us with the metal detector going. The narrow rock face made it impossible to do anything else.
I nudged the earphones back up and resumed my scan of the cave. I didn't imagine myself as any sort of expert, but I was thorough and that counted for a lot.
About six feet back, I was on my hands and knees, sweating, the heavy metal detector braced out in front of me when—Ping.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Ping.
There was no mistaking it.
Ping.
I held still over the spot, just to hear it again.
Ping.
The depth gauge estimated its depth at less than a foot. "I've got something!" I set the metal detector aside and began digging with my hands.
"Let me help," Ellis drew the detector out of the cave and settled in next to me. He passed me a stick and started in with one of his own.
"Too bad we didn't think of shovels," I grinned, working hard, but not caring. Then my stick hit hard metal.
