A key, maybe? Brody wondered.
“Did he mention going anywhere?”
“The road leading to the island was washed away, so we’ve been stuck here. The only way to get off the island is by boat. When I didn’t see his at the slip, I just assumed he’d taken it inland to ride out the storm.”
“Thanks for the information. You’ve been very helpful.”
Brody hung up and chewed on what he’d learned. Ivan must have found that key after the nor’easter. It very easily could have been washed up from the Beaufort area where Blackbeard’s ship, the Queen Anne’s Revenge, was found.
Had he then tried to get off the island? Was he running with the key? Trying to meet someone?
Brody didn’t know. But more pieces were falling in place.
Brody hurried to the bathroom to splash some water in his face. As he returned, he saw the food cart leaving and knocked at Felicity’s door.
“Come in,” she called.
He stuck his head inside, surprised to see that Felicity wasn’t eating. No, her eyes were fastened to her phone.
He’d seen the device lying beside her on the road when he found her and had grabbed it. Apparently, the snow had broken its fall. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be working now.
“Anything interesting on that phone?” he asked, knowing he sounded suspicious. But, at this moment, he wasn’t exactly sure whom to trust. There seemed to be a lot of people with a stake in this.
“Yeah, I’d say so. Come look at this,” she said, still staring at the screen.
He came around beside her and peered over her shoulder. As he did, the edge of her hospital gown cascaded down, exposing her shoulder. He looked away, willing his thoughts to remain pure.
She quickly scrambled to pull it back up, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“What did you want me to see?” His voice came out in more of a croak than he would have liked.
“What do you see here?” She held up the phone. It was a photo. Rather blurry. The background was dark bronze, and there were two letters smeared across the screen.
He squinted as he tried to determine what he was looking at. “Initials?”
“What initials?”
He squinted again, wishing it was a clearer picture. “I don’t know. It looks like an E maybe. And there beside it . . . is that a T?”
A satisfied smile crossed her face. “That’s what I thought also.”
He straightened so he could see her face better. “What are you looking at?”
“I took a picture of the key because I saw a small engraving on the back of it and got curious. I wanted to take it to someone who could enlarge it and make it clearer, but I’m not going to have time to do that. I just used my phone instead.”
“This is from the key that was in my pocket? That the man stole from you?” he clarified, things starting to click in his mind.
Felicity smiled again. “That’s right.”
“Edward Teach.” Brody ran a hand through his hair. He’d thought Aunt Bonny’s theory was just comic relief. What if she was on to something?
Her smile widened. “You got it. Otherwise known as Blackbeard.”
Just like they’d talked about last night. He’d like to dismiss the theory, but it kept coming around again. However, he’d talked to his friend about the research project down there . . .
“Speaking of Blackbeard . . . I have some information that you’ll find interesting.” He filled her in with what he’d learned.
“So it’s a researcher from Project Teach? That’s so . . . unethical.”
Brody nodded. “It sounds like this guy had dollar signs in his eyes. It’s the only reason he’d take off and do something like this.”
“We can’t let him do that, Brody.”
He raised an eyebrow as he pondered her words. “You mean, the police can’t let him do that.”
Her eyes lit with fire. “If this man finds anything of historical significance, he’s going to sell it to the highest bidder. The public will never be able to appreciate what he’s found. It will be like a piece of our country’s past has been sold and forgotten.”
“I think we’re jumping ahead of ourselves here.” He needed her to slow down. There was so much they still didn’t know. So many pieces that still needed to fall in place.
She shook her head, her thoughts obviously racing ahead of this conversation. “I’ve got to find that treasure before he does.”
He stared at her in the hospital gown, her hair tousled, her face without a trace of makeup. Even after being in the hospital overnight, after being left for dead in the cold, after being held at gunpoint, she still looked stunning.
And vulnerable. Her logic was obviously compromised.
“You’re in no state to go find any treasure,” he reminded her.
“The doctor said I could go home this morning.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, which read nine a.m. “That should be happening soon.”
“You don’t have a car.” He needed to get her to slow down, to think of her safety. To think this through, period. This was real life. It could be dangerous. And he didn’t want to see her hurt.
She raised her chin. “I’ll get a ride back to the house to get mine.”
Talk some sense into her, Brody. “Where are you even going to start? It’s going to be like a wild goose chase. All we know about is the key. We don’t even know enough about the key to lead us anywhere.”
She frowned. “And the maps. I saw the maps.”
“But you don’t have any of the maps.”
Her frown deepened as determination raised her chin again. “I don’t know yet. But I’ll think of something.”
He crossed his arms, knowing he had no right to tell her what to do. Yet he couldn’t encourage her in this pursuit. She was only going to get hurt, and that was the last thing he wanted. “For the record, I want to state that I don’t think this is a good idea.”
She turned toward him, squirming as her IV caught. The moment quickly passed. “For the record, I understand. And, for the record, I’m not asking for your help.”
Why was she pushing this so hard? It didn’t make sense to him. Most people would have let this drop at the first sign of danger. Besides, the key didn’t really have any significance to her. It just didn’t make sense.
But she wasn’t going to drop this, so he needed to change his tactics. “It’s either I help you or you go at this alone,” he finally said.
Confusion fluttered through her lovely brown eyes. “I don’t know if you helping me is a good idea.”
“If it means being a second set of eyes so you don’t get yourself killed, then it’s a great idea.” He refused to break eye contact. She needed to know how serious this was.
She pressed her lips together before blurting, “Or I could get you killed! Neither is a great option.”
“How about we focus on neither of us getting killed?”
She leaned back into her pillow, her hair fanning out around her. She offered a resolute nod. “It sounds like a plan.”
He fought a frown. His gut was torn between adventure and safety. But he knew whether he was involved or not, Felicity was going after this treasure. He feared the repercussions of what would happen if this guy got his hands on her again.
“I’ll help. But first we need a plan.”
Chapter Seventeen
Three hours later, Felicity stood in Brody’s living room. He lived in a small cottage near the heart of town, yet away from the more expensive, historic homes along the river. The place was neat and well-kept with clean, white siding and a cozy-looking porch.
His house was tiny and old with small, boxy rooms. The decorating needed a woman’s touch, but, since he was single, she didn’t expect him to have that finesse. Instead he had a plain navy-blue couch, some mismatched end tables, and some pictures of the sea decorating the walls.
She could hear the water from the shower rushing through the pipes as Brody prepared for their trip.
He’d insisted on stopping by his place first, and he’d insisted that she stay with him.
His surge of protectiveness sent her emotions into a tizzy. Part of her enjoyed and appreciated the gesture, while the other part fought to be independent. But she knew she’d have a better chance of doing this if Brody were with her. She was no soldier, although she had taken fencing lessons for several years in high school and college. She supposed that would only help her if she ended up in a sword battle with some pirate impersonators—unlikely to happen.
She walked over to the bookshelf and looked for pictures there. There was one of Brody with an older man and woman. Must be his parents, she guessed.
There were no pictures of him with a woman by his side, though.
Why wasn’t someone like Brody snatched up and taken by now? It certainly wasn’t because of his looks. Any woman would find him attractive. Felicity certainly did.
Her cheeks flushed at the thought.
So maybe it was his personality that kept him single. Was he too gruff? Too bossy? Married to his job?
“Hey, everything okay?” a deep voice said.
She looked over and spotted Brody standing there, a clean black T-shirt clinging to his still-damp chest, low-slung jeans hugging his hips, and bare feet. His hair was glistening and wet, and he had a small, white towel in his hands that he was using to rub it dry.
And he’d shaved.
She looked away. “Yeah . . . everything’s . . . it’s good. Just fine.”
Great. Now she was stuttering and fumbling over her words.
All because he had to come out of the shower smelling so spicy and clean and looking so alluring. What was wrong with her? Would she ever learn her lesson?
“Just let me grab a few things. Do you want something to eat? Feel free to help yourself to anything in the fridge.”
“Now that you mention it, I am kind of hungry.”
She went into the kitchen and began putting together some sandwiches. It was better than thinking about Brody fresh from the shower. Way, way better.
Not really. But it was safer. Healthier.
No sooner had she put the food on the table than did Brody step into the room and sit down with her.
“Do you mind if I pray?” he asked.
“Knock yourself out.”
She closed her eyes as he began. “Lord, please give us wisdom. Grant us safety. Bind any danger . . .”
His words eventually faded, but not before moisture warmed her eyes.
Her mom and dad had prayed like that. They’d had such a strong faith. And for what? For nothing. Her grandmother had also had a strong faith, and she’d been murdered. It didn’t appear that God gave any favor at all to those who loved and served Him.
“Felicity?”
She jerked her head up and wiped away the moisture from beneath her eyes. She forced a smile, hoping he didn’t ask questions. She didn’t want to go into that now.
“Dig in,” she said, hoping to divert the subject.
He cast one more glance at her before picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.
“So, where do you want to start?” he said. “I have ideas, but I’ll hear yours first.”
“Naturally, I think we should start by finding out more information on this guy with Project Teach. Maybe that will give us a clue as to where he’s going now that he has the key.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“So we’ll head down to Beaufort. I don’t think they got hit with snow as badly as we did here.”
He glanced at his watch. “If we leave as soon as we’re finished eating, we might make it there before they close today. It will be a couple hours' drive.”
“I think that’s what we should do.” She nodded, a fizz of excitement bubbling inside her. She hadn’t felt this curious about something in a long time.
Could this really be her chance to prove herself? She didn’t want the material wealth such a find would cause. No, she wanted to restore herself professionally.
She couldn’t bring herself to mention that to Brody, though. He wouldn’t understand.
Brody took his last bite. “Let’s go.”
“Felicity. Felicity!” Someone nudged her.
Her eyes popped open, and she sat up straight. She’d fallen asleep, she realized. The last thing she remembered was riding down a country road, heading to Beaufort with Brody. Everything must have caught up with her, and her body had needed rest.
She wiped her mouth, hoping against hope that she hadn’t been drooling or anything else embarrassing.
“We’re here,” Brody said softly.
Thankfully, Brody had swung past her own house before they left. She’d also cleaned up and changed clothes, as well as packed a few things just in case they didn’t make it back tonight. She had no idea where this adventure might end up taking them, but she wanted to be prepared.
She stared at the picturesque town in front of her. What seemed like endless docks stretched near the downtown area, where galleries, restaurants, and gift shops were located. In the summer, she could imagine boats out on the water, enjoying the miles and miles of blue. Small patches of snow still remained in the gutters and beneath trees, though the sun tried to melt them with its bright rays.
Brody turned off the main street, down a few more, and finally pulled to a stop in front of a large building. A sign out front read Project Teach.
“There are a few cars out here, so someone must be inside,” she said.
“That’s a good thing for us.”
“What are we going to say? They’re going to ask us why we’re asking questions,” Felicity said.
“I’ll tell them I’m Coast Guard and we’re investigating an attempted rescue out in the Perquimans that could be connected.”
“But are you?”
He shrugged. “We turn investigations like this over to local police usually. But it’s not unheard of that we might ask some questions ourselves.”
“It sounds like a plan.”
She was surprised at how badly her hands shook as she stepped out of the truck. She had never done anything like this before.
Don’t think of it as deceit, she told herself. You’re not lying. Brody is Coast Guard, and you’re both looking for information. That’s the truth.
When Brody put his hand on the small of her back to lead her inside the building, she nearly jumped out of her skin. It must be her nerves. It had nothing to do with the spark she felt at his touch. Nothing at all.
A young, blonde receptionist greeted them when they walked in, and Brody took the lead. As he approached the desk, Felicity soaked in the area. It was a gray, lifeless welcome to the building—from the carpet, to the walls, to the desk. The only thing in the room that gave any indication that they were researching the infamous pirate was a replica painting of him on his boat behind the receptionist.
“I’m with the Coast Guard, and I need to talk with someone about Archibald Campbell,” Brody started.
In an instant, the woman’s face went from cheery and polite to strained. “One second.”
She rushed toward the back and emerged a moment later with a lanky man who had thinning hair, gold-rimmed glasses, and a coffee stain on his white shirt. The man couldn’t be much older than Felicity. In fact, he almost looked like . . .
“Felicity French?” His eyes lit with recognition.
“Derek Peterson,” she said.
“Long time no see.” He grinned, instantly more relaxed as he stood in the area between reception and a back hallway.
She forced a smile. Derek had always been nice, but a little too nice. She’d suspected he liked her in college, and he hadn’t been one to take a polite hint. “I had no idea you worked here.”
“You know each other?” Brody’s eyes lit with curiosity.
Felicity nodded. “Derek and I went to school together at UNC.”
“You went to UNC?”
She nodded, realizing there was a lot Brody didn’t know abo
ut her. If she were smart, she’d keep it that way. “I did. For undergraduate.”
“Don’t let her humility fool you,” Derek said. “She was brilliant. One of the shining stars of our graduating class. Valedictorian. Fencing champion. Most likely to succeed.”
“He’s overstating it.” Felicity had to change the subject. “How long have you been here, Derek?”
“Just a few years. It’s really an exciting project. I mean, who wouldn’t want to uncover this kind of history about our country? Pirates. Pirate ships. A lost part of our history. If we solve this, we can move on to the lost colony in Manteo next.”
“I can imagine how excited you are,” Felicity said. “All of this is an amazing task and accomplishment.”
He glowed under her compliment, going as far as to glance at her hand.
He was looking for a wedding ring, she realized.
When he didn’t see one, he turned to Brody, seeming to size him up before scowling.
She had to get a handle on this conversation before it went in an undesirable direction.
“We need your help,” she blurted.
“What can I do for you? I heard you were here about Archibald.” Any of his earlier ease disappeared. The subject of Archibald obviously made him uncomfortable.
“Can we speak in private?” Brody asked.
“Of course. Follow me to my office.”
They wound down a short hallway and into a small corner room without windows. It was loaded with papers and books and coffee cups, but he cleared away enough of his research that they could find seats. Then he closed the door before sitting across from them. The space smelled like old Chinese food and Vicks VapoRub.
Derek sat behind a massive, cluttered desk and laced his fingers together. His gaze darted nervously from Brody to Felicity. “Do you know anything about Archibald?”
“Not really,” Felicity said.
Derek’s head went into his palm. “I think he’s gone off the deep end.”
Brody leaned toward him. “What can you tell us about Archibald?”
Derek leaned closer, even though no one was around and the door was closed. “Is all this off the record? I don’t want to lose my job for breaking some kind of confidentiality clause.”
Wait Until Dark: Carolina Moon Series, Book 3 Page 11
