Searching for Treasure
By L.C. Davenport
Copyright © L.C. Davenport 2013.
The right of L.C. Davenport to be identified as the authour of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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Chapter 1
Jack, as usual, got right to the point. "We've been had."
Dana studied the rundown, rather unfriendly-looking castle at the end of the drive and stifled a small sigh. This was to be their weekend getaway home-away-from-home for the next few days. The once proud castle estate, which was surrounded by ancient oaks that dominated rambling unkempt grounds, had an angry, accusatory air about it. Almost as if to say, "You did this to me, you and your kind.”
"Maybe the inside isn't as bad as it looks on the outside," she offered.
Jack cut her a skeptical glance. "Right."
Noah had been uncharacteristically silent since she had stopped the car. Dana peeked into the rear view mirror to where her brother sat in the back seat and had to grin. Noah's soon-to-be manly jaw looked to be in danger of becoming totally unhinged and fall from his face.
Dana dug the brochure from her purse and read it out loud. "Treat yourself to a true adventure."
"Translation: watch out for the bats as you find your way through a rotting castle," Jack said.
Her lips twitched as she continued reading. "Experience the lost charm of the old Raven Keep Castle."
"Emphasis on the old. And doesn't 'lost charm' mean it can't be found? Like I said, we've been had."
Noah spoke for the first time since their arrival. "Yeah and if Freddy Krueger pops his head out from around that tree, I'm heading back to town."
Dana glanced again at Noah in her mirror. He was staring moodily at the old castle, which was growing larger in their view with each jarring bounce. Each passenger in the car, as well as the driver, was soaking with sweat as the air conditioner struggled and failed to compete with the heat wave of British summer.
Moss, hanging from low branches, occasionally scraped the top of the car. The interior reeked of the mosquito repellant they had applied to themselves earlier.
Dana decided to blame Jack. It had been his idea, after all, to respond to the call of a haunted treasure-castle, although she was honest enough with herself to admit that it hadn't taken a lot of coaxing to get her to agree. Each of them possessed a thirst for adventure and new experiences, which had been the foundation of a friendship that stretched back to sixth grade.
They'd been best friends since the day Mrs. Corman had paired them up as line-dancing partners. Through the years they had discovered many shared interests, not the least of which was a desire to try the new and unknown. They had tried to instill the same attitude into Noah, but had only met with partial success. They feared Noah was in danger of turning into a fuddy-duddy at age nineteen by concentrating all his energies on his college studies. That concern had prompted this trip.
******
Days before, Jack had bounded into Dana's house, vibrating with excitement and waving a brochure. "Attention!" he read. "Can you find the treasure hidden inside Raven Keep Castle? Do you dare brave the ghosts that roam the halls? Treat yourself to true adventure. Experience the lost charm of an old castle. Fine dining. Well-appointed rooms. Entertainment. Immerse yourself in a forgotten era. Come to Raven Keep Castle."
"It's a scam," Dana had said.
"No, it's legit. I looked it up on the Internet. There is such a place. It is reputed to be haunted and there is a story about lost treasure associated with the castle. According to the article I read, some Frenchguy bought it and is turning it into a weekend resort, patterned after those mystery weekends that were so popular a while back. Only his gimmick is ghosts and treasure." Jack finally noticed the pile of wood and glue on the dining room table in front of Dana. "What’s that?"
"It's a toothpick sculpture," she replied.
"Okay, but why?"
"I'm exploring my creativity."
"By making a blob out of toothpicks?"
Jinx the cat, sat near Dana's elbow. She was surveying the scattered slithers of wood all around her. With studied nonchalance she batted a toothpick off the edge of the table with her paw. Dana caught it neatly without so much as a glance and attached it to the top of her sculpture at a forty-five degree angle. She cocked her head and studied it.
"If you're waiting for that thing to speak to you, D, I think it's mute."
"Hmmm."
"Let's get back to the treasure-castle. I think this is just the thing we need to get Noah out of his rut."
"I don't know, Jack, it doesn't really seem like Noah's thing."
"That's just it. I haven't noticed him having a thing. At least, not lately. Really, D, I feel like we've failed him. All he does is study."
"Well, he's dedicated. He's really keen on becoming a sport psychologist.
"Which is great, but all work and no play. The only other thing he seems to be interested in is our social lives or lack thereof."
As if on cue, Noah sauntered in through the back door.
"Hi guys. You know, Dana, I keep hoping you'll start telling me to knock before I come in here."
"If that's what you want," Dana replied absently as she added another toothpick to her sculpture. "But why?"
"Because if you start telling me to knock before I come waltzing in the door, I'll know that finally you'll be doing something that you wouldn't want your little brother busting in on."
"Such as?"
"You know," Noah said wagging his eyebrows. He dropped his voice and finished in a dramatic tone, "Men."
"He means sex, D," Jack said, grinning.
Dana glared at both of them. "Excuse me, when did I suddenly become a spinster old maid?"
Noah grinned. "Be honest, when was the last time you went out?"
"I go out with Jack all the time."
"I don't mean Jack. Jack's your best buddy and mine. Jack's family. You know, I mean with..." Noah said again with the dramatic tone, "...a man."
"I'm sure Jack resents not being included in the man category," Dana said.
Noah rolled his eyes. "You are being deliberately dense. All right I'll use simple words so you'll understand. When was the last time you were on a date?" He paused. "A hot date."
Dana opened her mouth and then closed it again. It had been a long time. But she would never admit the reason, at least not to Noah. Dana had been mother and father as well as big sister to Noah since their parents had died in a car crash nine years earlier. Jack had stepped in as the predominant male role model in her brother's life.
Money had often been tight, but through sheer will and creative determination, Dana had managed to make a comfortable living for them both. However, recently college tuition had been taking a huge bite out of the household budget, prompting longer hours spent at her home-based business.
Dating, going through the ritual of getting to know new people, took too much time. It was just easier to hang out with Jack.
"Earth to Dana…Earth to Dana. Sorry, that wasn't meant to be a stumper," Noah said.
Dana's eyes twinkled mischievously. "What was the question?"
Noah heaved a huge sigh worthy of the theatre. "When did you last go on a hot date?"
"Let's see, nineteen fifty-"
"Very funny." Noah cocked his head in thought. "It was Liam, wasn't it?"
"What? Are you keeping track?" Dana asked.
"I worry about you. Sure I keep track. So, whatever happened to Liam? I know you liked him."
"He didn't understand my sense of humor," she said, smiling.
"Who does?" Dana rolled her eyes. "Okay, so what about Dave?"
"He decided I was too smart for him."
"He was right. Kyle?"
"I'm too adventurous."
"Danny?"
"I'm too offbeat."
"Daniel?"
"I'm too easygoing."
"Allen?"
Dana, irritated with this line of questioning–especially now that he'd gone all the way back to her prom date–gave Noah a disgusted look. "He didn't like my shoes." Jack laughed as Noah stared at her.
"You're kidding," Noah asked.
Dana sighed. "Yes, I'm kidding."
"Dana, have you noticed that you keep picking guys that can't appreciate you?"
"Or maybe I really am too 'too'."
"You're not the problem." Brother and sister turned to look at Jack, surprised by the unusually serious tone to his remark. "There's nothing wrong with you." He then went back to studying the tips of his shoes.
There was a beat of charged silence. Dana felt unaccountably warm and turned away to scratch Jinx under her chin. Noah, who was nobody's fool, looked at both of them speculatively.
Not wanting to continue this conversation, but needing to say something, Dana cleared her throat. "Remember what Dad used to say? Don't hide your light under a bushel? He told me that once when I was twelve. I came home crying one day because Rob Lawson told me that no boy was going to like a girl who was clever."
Jack looked up at that. "You liked Rob Lawson? He and his sisters used to eat bugs! Why would you want to kiss a boy who eats bugs?"
"I realized later," she continued with a glare, "that the real reason was because I could run faster than most of the boys in school. But that's beside the point."
"Hallelujah, she has a point," Noah said.
"I had decided that if I wanted the boys in school to like me, I had to pretend to be dumb. But Dad said, 'Never hide your light under a bushel. Never let anyone make you deny who you are. Maybe you don't understand that right now. And maybe some of the boys at school don't appreciate you right now, but someday there will be others who will. And those boys, will be true blue and solid gold treasure.' I took his advice to heart. So I guess, I'm still searching for treasure."
Noah could sense tension in Jack at these words, a tension Dana seemed to be totally unaware of, and he almost blurted out, "What about Jack?" But Jack changed the subject abruptly.
"Which brings me to my point." Jack began brandishing his brochure again. "Noah, I think you and I should take your sister out to this haunted treasure-castle for a long weekend in England. The ghosts won't know what hit them."
Noah surprised both of them by readily agreeing, each missing the glint of purpose in his mischievous eyes.
*****
There had been a definite undercurrent in the conversation that day, Dana decided, as the car finally jolted over its last rut, but she had been unwilling to examine it too closely. Turning the key off, she pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind as she climbed out of the car and stretched the kinks out of her back. The sixty miles they had driven from the airport to get here had been nothing. The last one hundred feet had been murder.
Noah scrambled out of the car, stretched mightily and began dragging overnight cases from the back. Jack leaned against the passenger door and stared morosely at the castle. "What kind of fine dining do you think we're apt to find in there?"
Dana leaned comfortably against him and he rested his chin on the top of her head. "This was your idea."
"Don't remind me," he muttered.
A small group of people had already arrived and was clustered around a gate–apparently locked–set in an elaborately worked wrought iron fence. One, a roly-poly man of about sixty-five, broke away and headed in their direction, bristling with vitality and good-humor.
"Well I swear to the heavens! I thought the way the ad read, this was really going to be something. But this place! This place don't amount to a hill of beans in a cornfield. Howdy folks, I'm Henry Hudson from Oklahoma."
"I'm Dana Parker. This is my brother Noah. And this is Jack Harrison."
"Well, I tell you. We all look like sensible folks. What are we doing here?" Henry asked.
"I guess looks can be deceiving," said Noah.
"Out of the mouth of babes. No offense meant, son. But at my age, everyone under the age of forty is a mere babe."
"None taken. At my age, anyone over the age of thirty is old."
Dana thumped her brother on the head.
"Ow!"
Henry chuckled. "Now, children. Over by the gate, the one on the left is my grandson Mark. He's fourteen, though you couldn't tell it from here."
"He's a big kid," Noah remarked.
"That he is. Only a freshman and already on the varsity football team. I declare, if we don't think he's something on a stick back home. The other two, best that I can tell, are honest-to-God treasure hunters. I figured the thing about treasure was just a gimmick to get rubes like us to plop our nickel down, but these guys are taking it seriously. They've got equipment in their car and everything, like they expect to dig the place up."
The murmuring conversation at the gate stopped abruptly. Dana stepped forward to get a better look at the front of the castle. A distinguished-looking, elderly man was coming out of the door with a large ring of keys and was headed towards the gate. Dana looked back at Jack. The bad temper of earlier was gone and his eyes were shining with anticipation. Dana grinned at him and he winked. "Are you ready, Freddy?" Jack said.
"I was born ready," she replied.
Chapter 2
"I thought I heard people out here. Welcome." The handsome old gentleman gazed around the group in front of him as if counting heads. "I do believe we are expecting a couple more. But please, feel free to come on in."
After a bit of fumbling, the gate was unlocked and one by one the visitors entered. One of the men that Henry Hudson had identified as treasure hunters shouldered past the others and pumped their host's hand vigorously.
"The name is Brett Murphy. And this is my associate, Austin Jones. Mister, I hope you were serious about that treasure."
Brett, who had an English accent, looked like the stereotypical favorite uncle, except for the glint of avarice in his eyes. He continued to shake hands, but his eyes constantly flitted around as if expecting the treasure to be right there in front of him. Austin was good-looking in a brutish, bad-boy kind of way that many women found attractive. Not Dana. She had often wondered why some women found dangerous-looking men to be so appealing.
"My name is Oscar Gaston," replied the older man, slightly taken aback. "I know what you're probably thinking. French name, no accent. Well, I was raised in the south of England."
"Fascinating. But, the treasure?" Brett asked impatiently.
Dana looked at Jack and rolled her eyes. There's one in every group, her expression said.
Oscar looked at the two men in front of him. Brett was staring at him too intently and he especially didn't like the hard, calculating glint in Austin's eyes. He cleared his throat nervously. "Oh, there are many stories about treasure surrounding this castle, as well as stories about ghosts. But, I cannot guarantee that you will discover either one."
Austin spoke for the first time. "But we are free to look, for the treasure that is." It was a statement, not a question. It was spoken in an arrogant, challenging way
that immediately put Dana's back up.
"Err, within reason, of course. Now please, I have not met the rest of you fine people." Introductions were made all around. They all trooped forward to deposit their luggage on the wide front porch flanked by fluted columns.
"I wouldn't drop them too hard," grumbled Austin to no one in particular, "they're liable to go right through."
"The castle is perfectly safe I assure you. Structurally sound. I know it doesn't look like much on the outside, but it is clean and is in reasonably good repair. I've seen to that. And you will be glad to know I have acquired the most wonderful cook who will have you drooling over her cuisine," Oscar said.
Finally, everyone entered the front door. Although it was nowhere near the grandness of the olden glory days, it was clean and appeared to be freshly painted. It was obvious that Oscar had concentrated his repairs to the inside of the castle. The sound of an approaching car had Noah glancing out the door.
"There's someone coming," Noah said.
Oscar smiled. "That must be the rest of our little group."
"Yoo-hoo, we're here!" Charging through the door were two bright and cheerful bundles of female energy. Both ladies were probably in their late- fifties or early sixties, sporting nearly identical short haircuts, wearing colorful vacation garb and bursting with such vitality that Jack felt old in comparison.
The first one through the door launched into an apology. "Sorry we're late, but my friend here won't let me drive, so that tends to slow us down. Although,”she said turning to her companion, "I am a perfectly safe driver." It was obviously an old argument.
"My driving is good enough for the both of us," said the other woman. She pushed up her bracelets and held out her hand to the first person she came to, which happened to be Henry. "Hi, Rose from Virginia. Timmons is the last name. My friend here is Grace. Grace Braise."
Henry took her hand as if he was afraid it would go off in his. "Henry Hudson."
"Oklahoma,”said Rose
"How could you tell?" he asked.
"My great-grandmother,”she replied, as if that should explain everything.
Grace attempted to enlighten him. "She has a knack for dialects. She's hardly ever wrong. Oh my, will you look at this place."
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