“It’s all off the record,” Brody said before lowering his voice. “It’s important, Derek. We believe he may have killed someone.”
“Killed someone?” His eyes widened before his forehead went back into his palm again. “This isn’t good. It isn’t good at all.”
“Talk to us, Derek,” Felicity said.
He raised his head and let out a long sigh before focusing. “As you probably know, any of the treasure from the Queen Anne belongs to the state. The state hired several historians and archeologists to examine any of the finds. They call us Project Teach.”
“Keep going,” Felicity encouraged.
“We brought Archibald onboard because he had an outstanding résumé and came with the highest recommendations. He was an outsider to our little community here, but that was okay. Someone with his experience couldn’t be passed over. And he was brilliant. Brilliant.”
“How so?” Brody shifted in his seat, his full attention on this conversation.
“He knew exactly how to handle these artifacts that we’re getting from the Queen Anne. He’s one of the best researchers we’ve got here. But there’s always been something a little different about him, you know? He was so driven . . . but also secretive. I always felt like there were things he wasn’t telling us.”
“But you didn’t know what?” Brody said.
Derek shook his head. “No, but he insisted on working strange hours. He’d be here at night by himself. He was almost obsessed with those maps.”
“Did he ever show any dangerous tendencies?” Brody asked.
Derek shook his head. “I can’t say he did. But he got this fire in his eyes sometimes. Usually it was if someone touched his stuff. I was always afraid he’d go off the deep end.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Felicity asked.
“He was here three days ago. He was working especially hard examining those maps. Like, obsessively. I’m not sure he left here for thirty-six hours straight.”
“Why?” Brody asked.
“He didn’t tell us. He said he wanted to do some research first.”
Felicity’s mind raced with possibilities. “He didn’t even give you any hints?”
Derek shook his head again. “No hints even. We all just thought that he would tell us what it was as soon as he’d correctly preserved the paper. He said it was big. Then he disappeared.”
“And the maps disappeared with him?” Felicity asked.
Derek nodded, his frown deepening. “Exactly. If I knew then what I know now, I would have done things differently. But he was brilliant, and I told myself that people like that want to do things their way.”
“What do you think now?” Felicity asked.
“I think he found some kind of clue.”
“Clue to what?” Brody asked, tensing beside her.
Derek hesitated a moment. “His main obsession was Blackbeard’s treasure. He felt sure it was still out there. That was one of the reasons he wanted to work here. He thought this work could lead people to more answers. I just had no idea he would take it this far.”
“You know anything about this key?” Felicity held up her phone.
Derek’s eyes widened as he took her phone from her. “Yes. Yes. This looks like the keys used during Blackbeard’s time. It’s a classic style of that time period. At least, that’s how it appears just from the picture. I’ve seen keys like this before when researching old castles in France.”
“Does it go to a treasure chest, by chance?” Brody asked. He still wasn’t 100 percent on board with this theory. It would be a stretch for anyone to believe.
“No, no. Of course not. It’s too big. But it does go to a room.”
“Could that be Blackbeard’s key?” Felicity asked.
“It’s hard to say without seeing it. I’d certainly say the style fits the time period, and given Blackbeard’s proclivity to stealing things from French vessels—Spanish and British too, for that matter—I’d definitely say it could be linked to him. Where did you find this?”
Felicity licked her lips, deciding to dive right in. “A man actually found it. He died. Probably at the hands of the man who worked here, whom we believe was working under an alias.”
Derek’s face paled even more. “I see. He must think it’s connected to his mission—no one stands in his way.”
“The initials ET were on the back.” Felicity watched his reaction carefully.
His eyes lit, as he seemed to realize the implications of the find. “Edward Teach. Of course! Do you realize what this means? We could be sitting on one of the most significant finds of this decade. People would go crazy because of this.”
“It sounds to me like people are going crazy over this,” Brody said. “Speaking of maps: where is Blackbeard’s treasure generally thought to be hidden?”
“Three places, primarily. Either somewhere on Ocracoke Island, at a place called Teach’s Oak in Oriental, or on Holiday Island up in the Neuse River.”
“I’m assuming people have looked at all of those places.” Brody tapped his chin with his index finger.
“Extensively,” Derek said.
“And how have people drawn these conclusions exactly?” Brody asked.
“Mostly it’s been handed down through word of mouth. Ocracoke, of course, is because that was where Blackbeard’s last stand was.”
“I see.” Brody leaned closer. “What are your theories?”
Derek seemed surprised at the question. He fluttered around a moment before shrugging. “My theories? Well, I don’t know. There are several ideas I’m fascinated with. You know that he lived as a common man here in North Carolina for a while, right? Not for very long. But most people believe he took a wife in the area. During that time, he could have easily scoped out places to hide his stash.”
“Why would he even hide it?” Brody asked. “Why not just enjoy it?”
“Otherwise, people would steal it. He probably never thought he’d end up dead. He thought he’d escape with his fortune one day—and his favorite wife. Unfortunately, that never happened.”
Brody shifted in the uncomfortable plastic seat. “And I guess he never bothered to tell anyone what he did with it?”
“Not to our knowledge. You would think it would have come out if one of his wives or colleagues knew where it was. They would have come into wealth, which would have made people ask questions and make assumptions.” Just then, Derek’s phone rang. “Excuse me a moment.”
When he hung up, he turned to them. “I’m sorry, but there’s someone here that I need to speak with. I’ve given you everything I know.”
“If you think of anything else, give me a call.” Brody put his card on the table.
“Will do.”
Chapter Eighteen
As they were leaving, the woman at the front desk called to them. Brody paused and walked back toward her as she waved them over. She was slightly overweight, with a doll-like face.
“I heard you say you were asking about Archibald,” she whispered.
“That’s correct. Any idea where he is?” Brody asked.
She looked from side to side as if to make sure no one was listening. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but Archie was a sad excuse for a human. I overheard him on the phone the other night. I came back because I’d left my cell here, but he didn’t know I came in.”
“What was he saying?”
“It was something about a man named Winsome. I thought he said he was taking a bath, but that seemed really odd. He was whispering, like whatever he was saying was top secret. But it just struck me as strange.”
“He talked about him taking a bath?” Brody’s hands went to his hips, obviously skeptical.
“Or could he be talking about the town of Bath—notoriously known as the place where Blackbeard took up residence?” Felicity stared at Brody.
“I think you’re right,” he said. “Smart thinking.”
“Did he say anything else?” Felicity turned back t
o the woman.
The receptionist shrugged. “He’d been acting strange lately. I tried to sneak into the room and see what he was working on, but I wasn’t able to.”
“Was there anything unique in the room?” Felicity asked.
“One of the cannons we recovered. It was only weird because his specialty was maps. That was his project. I wondered why he had the cannon in his office.”
“What’s your theory?” Brody asked.
“I think he discovered something. Something big. Something that he wants all for himself. He was that kind of guy. He thinks only about himself.”
“You seem to feel pretty strongly about that,” Felicity said.
“I’ve got good gut feelings.”
“If you remember anything else, will you let us know?” Brody took out his card.
“Sure. I’d love to see him get what he has coming to him.”
Brody waited until they’d stepped outside before saying anything to Felicity. “That was interesting.”
“To say the least.”
He wanted to ask how exactly she knew Derek, but he didn’t. Derek had mentioned UNC. That she’d been respected. There was a lot he didn’t know about Felicity, but they had other more pressing matters to discuss.
“Archibald definitely discovered something,” Felicity said. “He wants the treasure for himself, and he’s on his way to get it now.”
“What do you say we go to Bath?”
“I think that’s a great idea. We need to figure out who this Winsome guy is.”
“I just pray he’s still alive.”
Brody’s words caused her heart to lurch. She hadn’t thought of that. But she hoped the same thing.
As they drove to Bath, Felicity searched on her phone for anyone with the last name of Winsome. One person in town bore that surname, and his first name was Walter. She hoped he might have some answers. And that he was okay—that Archibald hadn’t gotten to him first.
The trip from Beaufort to Bath took two hours, mostly on country roads. Brody turned on the radio, and a song by Daleigh McDermott came on. Felicity had heard a rumor that she lived in Hertford.
“You met her yet?” Brody asked.
She shook her head. “No. You?”
“Yeah, I know her husband. I had my truck towed to his shop.”
“He’s a mechanic?”
Brody nodded. “Daleigh’s theory is that you should do what you love. That’s what Ryan loves. They’re a really down-to-earth couple. I think you’d like them.”
“I doubt I’ll have a chance to meet her. I won’t be in town long enough.”
“You plan on leaving soon?”
“Staying here was only a temporary stop. I knew that from the start.”
“I see.” He nodded slowly.
His reaction made Felicity wonder if he’d be happy when she was gone. After all, she’d caused him a headache in the short time she’d been around.
“What are you looking up now?”
“The man who grabbed me was wearing a class ring of some sort. I couldn’t read what it said, but it was distinct with a star and sun on it. Plus, the man had an Australian accent. I want to see if I can identify a college Down Under that fits that description. I know it’s a long shot, but . . .”
“It’s worth a try.”
She searched through several screens before stopping. “Ah ha! Here’s something. I think this is the ring.” She showed it to Brody.
“Southwestern University of Australia?” he said.
“Now I need to figure out distinguished relic hunters from the university.” She typed in some new items on the search menu. A moment later, an article popped up on her screen. She enlarged the picture and showed it to Brody.
“Is that him? Archibald?”
His eyes widened. “It is.”
A satisfied smile curled her lips. “His real name is Magnum Lewis.”
She began reading the highlights aloud to Brody.
“Magnum Lewis is one of the leading relic hunters in the United States. Apparently, he made a name for himself after discovering a shipwreck up near Cape Cod. It made him millions—until the government claimed a majority of it.” She scrolled down further. “His former colleagues call him ruthless. Those who admire him say he’s brilliant and focused but disillusioned.”
“Does it say anything about his history?”
She scrolled some more, looking for additional information. “Interestingly enough, he started as part of a documentary crew. He was one of the producers as they hunted for some old treasure left by Native Americans. Part of the treasure that was discovered disappeared, but the crime could never be linked directly to Magnum. However, everyone thought he was guilty.”
“I guess charges were never pressed?”
“It doesn’t appear they were. But shortly after that, Magnum left the production crew and he started his own relic-hunting operation. He hired a crew of . . . it looks like five or six people. Some have backgrounds in water salvage, another in construction. One works security mainly. They’re profiled here in another article.”
“They sound like quite the formidable team.”
“Don’t they? Magnum sounds like someone who won’t let anyone get in his way. I suppose that’s why he went undercover. There was something at Project Teach he wanted.”
They pulled off the country highway, turning toward Bath. Felicity knew enough to know that Bath was North Carolina’s first town and port. Its proximity to the Pamlico River had made it a much-desired area in its early days. It was incorporated in the early 1700s and even considered as a possibility for the state capital at one time.
“Turn here,” she told Brody.
A few narrow, wooded lanes later, they pulled up to a white, clapboard-sided house located on several acres. A small garden peeked out from the back of the house, and a carport had an old, blue Crown Victoria parked beneath it.
Before stepping out, she observed an old cannon in the front yard, painted a glossy black and surrounded by neat red border stones. She imagined in the summertime there were probably cheerful flowers around it. An American flag hung proudly by the front door, right above a grass-green welcome mat.
“Let’s do this,” Brody said.
Felicity nodded, desperately hoping this trip wasn’t a total waste.
Felicity quickly pulled her long hair back into a neat bun and slipped on plastic framed glasses. She found people took her more seriously this way. If she’d had time, she would have worn some sensible khakis and a button-up top. Instead, she had to settle for her boot-cut jeans, thick-soled shoes, and a gray V-neck sweater beneath her black North Face jacket.
Felicity let her gaze wander as they approached the house. Was Magnum here? Was he waiting, ready to pounce from behind one of the trees at the edge of the property? Had he hidden inside, with a gun pointed to Walter’s head?
Or had he already been here? Had he attacked Walter and left him for dead? After all, if he’d tortured and killed Ivan, who said he wouldn’t do that to anyone who got in his way?
She hoped that wasn’t the case. For the first time in a long time, she almost wanted to pray. This situation went way beyond her capabilities, and faith in a higher power would offer some comfort—something she desperately needed.
“You ready for this?” Brody’s gaze fell on her for the first time since they’d left the truck, and his eyes widened when he saw her. She didn’t have time to explain her transformation to him now.
She nodded resolutely. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
As they stepped onto the front stoop, she saw the gun in the back of Brody’s waistband. When they’d stopped by her house, Felicity had grabbed hers also, and she kept it stashed in her purse. They had no idea what they were walking into and had to take precautions.
To her surprise, a man answered the door on the first knock. He was an older gentleman, but he still looked solid. His six-foot-plus massive frame only helped that. He had a shock of white hair,
a square face, and yellowed teeth.
It was his voice that sounded frail, like a direct contradiction to his large frame, as he said, “Can I help you?”
They had to play this carefully. For all they knew, this guy could be on Magnum’s side. They didn’t want to show their hand too easily.
“I’m Felicity, and I’m with Cupperdine University,” she started. “I’m here with my assistant, Brody, doing some research on the rich history of this area.”
“And that brought you to Bath?” he questioned.
She nodded. “It did. This region plays a vital role in North Carolina’s history. I’m doing my PhD on that very subject.”
“What’s this have to do with me?”
“I heard through the grapevine that your family played an interesting role in this area, dating back as far as the early 1700s. I was hoping to ask you a few questions about that.”
“Right now?”
“I know it’s sudden, and I do apologize for that. Your name showed up in my research, however, and I knew I couldn’t leave without stopping by here first.”
He glanced behind him. “Okay, then. Come in for a few minutes. Can I fix you some iced tea?”
“That sounds great,” Felicity said.
As he walked into the kitchen, she and Brody sat on the olive-green, plastic-covered couch complete with hand-stitched doilies on its arms. Brody leaned close enough that his breath tickled her cheek. “Slick move back there with the new look and cover story. You sure you’ve never done this before?”
“Positive. My insides are quivering so badly I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep the tea down.”
“You’re doing great.”
She hoped she didn’t blush under his compliment. Truth was, if she’d had an assistant as handsome as Brody back at the university, she would have been in serious trouble.
Walter returned a moment later and set two glasses of tea on the table. Around here, it was always cold tea. And it was always sweet enough to rot your teeth just by looking at it.
She’d never lost her taste for it, even when she lived across the country.
Wait Until Dark: Carolina Moon Series, Book 3 Page 12
