Buccaneer (Dane Maddock Adventures)

by David Wood

  “Specifically, Captain Kidd.” Avery must have seen something in his eyes because she hurried on. “Understand, I’m not some nut job or amateur treasure hunter. I’m an associate professor. I teach at the local community college. Captain Kidd is my area of professional interest.”

  “Seems like an odd thing to build your profession around.”

  “I have my reasons.” A shadow passed across her face, but it was gone as quickly as it arrived.

  “What’s so weird about researching Captain Kidd?” Angel asked. “Isn’t it his treasure we’re searching for on the island?”

  “We’re investigating the so-called Money Pit, that’s all.” Bones said. “We’re not necessarily looking for something Kidd left behind.”

  “Kidd’s treasure is a legend,” Dane said, “and a far-fetched one at that. He buried a few chests on an island down south but, other than that, there’s no reason to believe he had more to hide than that. If he had, he would have used it to bargain his way out of prison before they executed him.

  “I think that’s exactly what he did.” Avery’s gaze grew hard. “I’ve done extensive research on Kidd, much of it I’ve kept secret, and probably will continue to do so until I decide I can trust you. But believe me when I tell you I have evidence that he did, in fact, have a treasure of immense value, and he tried to use it to buy his freedom.”

  “Didn’t work out for him, did it?” Bones took a swig of beer.

  “No, but the important thing is, he did have a treasure of immense value.”

  “How do you know?” Dane couldn’t keep the doubt from his voice.

  “I told you, I’ve done extensive research, more anyone who’s studied Kidd or the island.”

  “That might be but, if you want my help, you’ve got to convince me.”

  “Your father believed it.”

  Dane shifted in his chair. She was probably right, but that didn’t make it true.

  “Did you know his father?” Angel asked.

  Avery’s face reddened and she looked down at the table.

  “He’s familiar to me. He and I followed the same trails in our research.”

  “Dad enjoyed his pirate research, but it was a hobby, that’s all. I doubt he took it seriously.” Dane took a long, cold drink of Dos Equis to cover the brief wave of sadness that washed over him. His parents, Hunter and Elizabeth Maddock, had died in an auto accident years before, and he still found it hard to talk about.

  Avery sighed and brushed a stray lock of blonde hair out of her face. She looked down at her hands, eyes narrowed. When she looked up again, her expression was resolute.

  “Captain Kidd hid clues, probably maps, in four sea chests. Your father owned one of these chests.”

  Dane raised an eyebrow.

  “That’s true, or at least he believed it belonged to Kidd. We don’t have it anymore, though. He donated it to...”

  “The New England Pirate Museum.” Avery completed the sentence. “I’ve already examined it.” She saw the confusion in Dane’s eyes and hurried on. “I found a hidden compartment. Inside was a brass cylinder where a document could have been rolled up and hidden inside.”

  “But it was empty?” Dane asked.

  “Afraid so.” Avery nodded. “I think your father found whatever was hidden inside before he donated the chest to the museum. In fact, I’m fairly certain of it.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Dane wanted to dismiss her claim out of hand, but his instincts told him she was reliable.

  “Around the time he donated the chest to the museum, he wrote seeking permission to explore the island.” She paused, probably waiting for Dane to object or question her, but he remained silent, so she went on. “He indicated that he had new evidence that could be authenticated if need be.”

  “I guess they turned him down?” Angel asked.

  “Yes. Around here, you have to throw a lot of cash around to get anywhere.” Bitterness cast a dark shadow across her face. Then, something seemed to click into place and she looked at Bones, eyes wide. “No offense intended toward your uncle.”

  “Get real.” Bones waved the apology away. “We have no illusions about how Charlie does business.”

  “Anyway,” Avery said, visibly relieved, “I don’t know if your father didn’t have the money or simply was unwilling to play the game.”

  “Maybe a little of both.” Dane shrugged. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I looked through my dad’s research shortly after he died, and there was nothing like what you’re talking about.”

  Avery hesitated. “Could I examine his papers? Perhaps there’s something you missed. I mean, you probably weren’t searching for a clue to Captain Kidd’s treasure when you were going through them.”

  Dane considered that. Sorting through those books and papers would dredge up memories he’d buried long ago. Besides, while Avery was correct— he hadn’t been looking for anything in particular when he went through his father’s research, he was certain something like an authentic document from Kidd would have caught his eye.

  “Captain Kidd’s sea chests hold the key to unlocking the secret of Oak Island. I’m certain of it.”

  Dane rested his chin on his fist, thinking it over.

  “If need be, I’ll take you to the museum and show you the secret...” She froze, staring over Dane’s shoulder.

  Dane turned around to see a stout police officer of late middle years standing behind him. He was blocky with gray eyes and hair to match. The calm detachment with which he eyed the people at Dane’s table said, I own this town and everyone knows it. Rodney’s battered face peeked over the man’s shoulder. He spotted Dane and whispered something to the officer, who nodded and approached the table.

  “Good evening.” The man’s gravelly voice held no emotion. He took a chair from a nearby table and sat down. “Miss Halsey.” He nodded to Avery, whose face reddened as she whispered a soft hello.

  “My name is Charles Meade,” he said to Dane and Bones, ignoring Angel. “I am the sheriff and, as such, it is my duty to keep the peace.” The man’s calm demeanor and articulate speech took Dane by surprise— he’d been expecting an older version of Rodney.

  “Everything’s peaceful around here,” Bones said, his tone easy.

  “That is gratifying.” Meade steepled his fingers and his gaze turned flinty. “But I understand that was not the case only a short while ago. I need to see your identification, please.”

  Dane, Bones, and Angel all produced identification, but Meade declined Angel’s proffered driver’s license with a flick of his index finger.

  “Only the gentlemen, please.” He examined the licenses. “Dane Maddock and Uriah Bonebrake,” he pronounced, like a principal calling unruly students into his office. Dane saw Avery glance at Bones when Meade read his name. Bones hated his birth name. “You are a long way from home, gentlemen.”

  “That’s not a crime, Sheriff,” Dane said. “As I’m sure you’re aware.”

  “But aggravated assault is a crime, Mister Maddock. As I’m certain you are aware. I don’t know what your relationship is with Miss Halsey, but I can assure you I do not condone beating up ex-boyfriends.”

  Avery started to argue, but Meade silenced her with a cold glance.

  “You and your friend provoked a fight with my son. Were it not for the presence of his friends, his injuries might have been even worse.”

  Now it was Dane’s turn to quiet Avery. Meade thought the game was his, but Dane held the trump card. He had to play it just right, though.

  “I assume you’ve taken statements from witnesses?” Dane said.

  “Of course.” Meade smiled, leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms across his chest.

  “Witnesses other than your son’s friends, I mean,”

  Meade shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “They all tell the same story. Rodney and Miss Halsey were talking out their differences. You interrupted, my son spoke rudely to you, and the two of yo
u attacked him. His friends pulled you off, both of them sustaining injuries in the process.”

  “Well, allow me to retort,” Bones said, quoting a line from his favorite movie, Pulp Fiction.

  “Did your son and his friends tell you he was manhandling Avery?” Angel snapped, cutting across Bones’ rebuttal with one of her own. “I tried to get her away from him, and was forced to defend myself when one of his friends grabbed me. Or do you condone violence against women in this county?”

  “That is not the story as I heard it.” Meade’s voice remained calm but Dane did not miss the annoyed glance he shot at Rodney, who, beneath his mask of bruises, wore a guilty expression. “Can you produce witnesses to support your version of events?”

  “You’ve got four witnesses sitting right here,” Bones said. “Two of them decorated veterans of the United States Navy.”

  “You’re not in the States, Mister Bonebrake. In any case, your ribbons and medals hold no sway in my county.” Meade looked around the table. “Do you have any unbiased witnesses who can support you?”

  “You know everyone in this county is afraid to testify against Rodney,” Avery said,” because they’re afraid of you.”

  “I’ll take that as a no, then,” Meade said. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you gentlemen to come with me. Please know I have deputies waiting outside should you resist.” His smile indicated he welcomed the thought.

  “You’re an elected official, aren’t you, Sheriff?” Dane asked. The question stopped Meade as he rose, his bottom hovering a few inches above the chair.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I take it you have not yet reviewed the security video.”

  Meade eased back into his chair.

  “The video confirms our story. The owner was kind enough to make a digital clip of the incident and email it to me. I’d rather not post it online and send links to the local news outlets.” From the corner of his eye, Dane saw Rodney shuffle away from his father, who had gone stock-still. “Let’s be realistic,” Dane said. “We both have the power to make trouble for each other, but why bother.” He hardened his voice. “I’ve been in all kinds of battles, Sheriff Meade, and one thing I’ve learned; it’s better to avoid them whenever you can.”

  Meade was intelligent enough to see reason.

  “Clearly I was misinformed. But next time you have a problem with someone, let the authorities deal with it. That is our job, not yours.”

  Angel looked like she was itching to make a sarcastic comment, but Dane nudged her under the table.

  “We will,” Dane said. “Thank you for hearing us out.”

  Meade nodded to the ladies and beat as fast a retreat as dignity would permit.

  “I can’t believe him!” Angel said. “Like it’s so easy to stop and call the cops when some guy’s got his hands all over you.”

  “We let him save face,” Dane explained. “That way, maybe he’ll stay out of our hair.”

  Angel thought for a moment, then nodded. “You know, you’re a lot smarter than Bones gives you credit for.”

  Dane grinned and called the server over for another round of drinks. Their meals arrived, and they passed an easy hour of beer, seafood, and conversation. Angel, who had joined Crazy Charlie’s island work crew at the last minute, steered the conversation away from Kidd’s treasure, asking about the history of Oak Island and its fabled Money Pit.

  “It all goes back to 1795,” Avery began, when a young man found an old block and tackle hanging above a depression in the earth. This area was thick with pirates back in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, and kids around here grew up hearing stories of buried treasure. So, the young man came back with some friends and they started digging. Within a few feet, they hit a layer of flagstones. Not a layer of natural rock, but actual, hewn stones. They kept digging, but kept hitting wooden platforms at regular intervals. That, plus the pick marks on the sides of the shaft made it obvious to them they were dealing with something man-made.”

  “Now the story rings a bell,” Angel said. “I hadn’t put that particular legend together with our project. Bones was always more into legends than I was. If I recall, since that first discovery, treasure hunters have tried to excavate the shaft but, no matter how deep they go, they just hit more platforms.”

  “Correct. And the pit keeps flooding,” Avery said. “The island is filled with underground channels.”

  “Which is where we come in,” Bones said. “Charlie wants us to locate every channel we can find and see if any appear to be man-made.”

  “Which they don’t,” Dane added.

  Bones nodded. “He also wants to see if they can be sealed and the water drained out.”

  “No one’s tried it before?” Angel asked.

  “They have, but they’ve always failed.” Avery shook her head.

  “So why keep trying? It sounds like an impossible task. Has anyone found a single bit of treasure?” Angel’s brow was knotted and she pursed her lips. “Have we signed up for a wild goose chase?”

  “A few things have been found over the years.” Avery stiffened and raised her voice. “Seafaring-related artifacts, bits of gold chain, parchment, and, of course, the stone.”

  “What stone?” Angel asked.

  “A stone inscribed with strange symbols,” Dane said. “The message was translated as ‘Forty Feet below two million pounds are buried.’ Its authenticity is questionable, though.”

  “I have more evidence than that,” Avery said. “Accounts no one else has seen. I know there’s something down there.” She turned to Dane. “That’s why I need to see your father’s research.” She held his gaze. “I’m not a quack treasure hunter. This has been a scholarly endeavor for me from the start. My colleagues haven’t taken me seriously, but I’m right on the verge of proving them wrong. I’ve got everything I need to publish except...” She fell silent and looked down into her half-empty mug of beer.

  “Except proof,” Dane said. Avery nodded and looked up at him again. Dane saw the pleading in her eyes. “I don’t want to get your hopes up,” he sighed. “I’ve been through Dad’s papers, and there’s nothing there. But I’ll take another, closer look. If there’s anything at all that might help you, I’ll give you a call.”

  “I suppose that’s as much as I could have hoped for,” Avery said glumly. “Thanks.”

  Dane went out of his way to avoid looking at Bones. He knew what his friend was thinking, but Bones was wrong. This was not the beginning of another of their crazy adventures.

  Chapter 4

  The door to his parents’ vacation cottage overlooking Mahone Bay felt heavier than usual as Dane pushed it open. Sensing his mood, Bones and Angel slipped past him like shadows to their respective rooms. At Bones’ suggestion, they’d seen Avery home safely before returning to the cottage for the night.

  For a moment, he considered leaving his father’s research where it lay and telling Avery he’d checked, but the coward’s way out was not for him. This reminder of his parents’ death was something he’d have to face.

  In the kitchen, he slid the microwave oven from its cabinet and grinned. Leave it to his father to ignore the seascape painting in the bedroom, where any normal person would hide a safe, and put it behind a kitchen appliance instead.

  He opened the safe and withdrew a fat envelope. He hadn’t touched it since shortly after the accident. Leaving the safe open and the microwave on the counter, he moved mechanically to an armchair by the fireplace, and emptied the contents of the envelope onto the coffee table.

  It was much as he remembered: printouts of articles, scans of documents, and a thick sheaf of notes written in his father’s elegant, yet masculine hand. He let out a low chuckle as he recalled, as a teenager, trying to imitate his father’s signature on a bad report card, only to be forced to own up to the bad grades and the failed forgery.

  Along with the stack of research, a smaller manila envelope held brochures of museums and other pirate-relat
ed sites his father had visited, and loose bits of paper with notes jotted on them. Last was a small, leather-bound print of Edgar Allan Poe’s story, The Gold-Bug. Fitting, he thought, as it told the story of a search for Captain Kidd’s treasure. He turned it over, surprised to discover that the book looked brand new. This was not some old volume his father had taken notes in. He opened it to the middle and flipped through a couple of pages, then turned it over and gave it a shake in case anything was hidden inside, but no luck.

  He set the book aside and started with the pile of research. The first several papers were various Kidd biographies, peppered with handwritten annotations. He read through them and found nothing new or unusual, certainly no references to Oak Island or the Money Pit.

  He laid them on the table, rested his elbows in his knees, and buried his face in his hands. This was a waste of time. He was putting himself through this for nothing. In fact, he’d been foolish to stay here at all, where reminders of his father were everywhere and his presence seemed to hang in the very air. The weight of an unbearable burden of sadness pressed down on him. He should have stayed in the travel trailers Crazy Charlie had set up for the crew, and where Willis, Matt, and Corey were bunking.

  He sensed movement behind him and a pair of gentle hands rested on his shoulders. He looked up to see Angel smiling sadly at him, sympathy shining in her eyes. She kept her silence and, for that, he was grateful. He gave her hand a squeeze and indicated that she should sit down.

  She dropped into the other armchair and picked up the papers he had been examining. Understanding dawned on her face as she scanned them.

  “This can’t be easy for you. I remember when my grandmother died. Seeing to her affairs and taking care of her things wasn’t so painful for me. That just felt like work. It was the personal things, you know. Letters she’d saved, pictures of me she’d written my name on. It was all too... real.”

  Dane nodded.

  “I can do this for you, Maddock. There’s no reason you should have to dredge up painful memories.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve been avoiding this place and these papers for years. Besides, I told Avery I’d do it.”