The Treasure Box (The Grace Series Book 2)

by Mark Romang

  “That will never happen, Cam. Rosie is a bona fide hero. She went to the neighbors to get help when the Charbonneaus held us hostage. That’s how the police showed up here. Besides, she’ll be a great companion for Grace. I can envision Grace riding around on Rosie like she’s a horse.”

  “But she rips up your paintings. We can’t have that happening.”

  “Rosie is over that. She didn’t eat the Bertocchi while it’s been on the floor leaning up against the wall.” Rosie lifted her broad head. She looked over at Ross and woofed gently.

  “Well, okay. But if it was me I’d keep her out of the studio and chained up. But then again I’m a cat person. Dogs are just too unrefined for me. They’re classless.” Ross stood up. He placed his Bible under his arm and scooped up the Bertocchi with his other hand. “I must be going, Jon. Congrats on your new daughter. And I’m so glad you and Annie are safe.”

  “Stay in touch, Cam. Come visit anytime.”

  “I will. And I’ll put the word out in the art world about your restoration abilities. I’ll bring you some work.”

  “Okay. Goodbye, Cam.”

  After he heard the front door shut, Rafter nestled his head against Grace’s body. Her body heat on his chest made him drowsy. And before long his eyes closed and he drifted to sleep.

  Chapter 60

  Rafter felt a tug on his arm. Startled, he snapped open his eyes. He saw Annie smiling at him. He yawned and blinked several times. “How long have I been sleeping?”

  Annie looked at her watch. “I’d say about five minutes.”

  “Oh, that’s good. I was afraid I’d been out for awhile.”

  “I hated to wake you. You and Grace looked so innocent sleeping together. But there are some people out on the gallery you should meet.”

  Rafter scooted forward to the sofa’s edge, and then stood up slowly so as not to wake Grace. “Cameron said you were talking to some ladies out there,” he said quietly.

  “Yes. They’re mother and daughter, and they’re good people.” Annie held up her hands. “Do you want me to take her?”

  “Sure, she’s like a little furnace. I’m burning up.” Rafter handed Grace over to Annie. He waited for Annie to secure Grace to her breast and shoulder, and then followed Annie out the front door. A woman in her mid to late forties sat with a teenager on a swing on the gallery.

  “Jon, this is Lorelei Charbonneau and her daughter Alisha,” Annie said.

  For a split second he couldn’t speak, but thankfully he found his voice. He stepped forward and extended a hand to Lorelei. “Hello, Lorelei, I’m Jon Rafter.” The woman took his hand and shook it warmly. He then offered his hand to the girl, a pretty young woman who bore an unmistakable resemblance to Arcadias. “Hello, Alisha, good to meet you.” The girl shyly took his hand and shook it.

  “And this is our daughter, Grace,” Annie said proudly.

  “How old is she?” Alisha asked, her shyness forgotten.

  “She’s two weeks old today.”

  “Can I hold her?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Annie said. She bent down and carefully put Grace in Alisha’s outstretched hands.

  “So I take it you are Arcadias’s wife,” Rafter said to the woman.

  “I’m his ex-wife. Alisha is our daughter we had together.”

  “May I ask what brings you here?” Rafter said, eyeing Grace in the girl’s arms. He was a little unnerved by the whole scenario.

  “I came here to apologize for the terrible thing Arcadias did here. I am so sorry he brought violence into your beautiful home. I never would’ve dreamed he would do something so horrible.”

  “How long have you been divorced from Arcadias?”

  “Almost seven years. And we haven’t talked for two years. Had I any inkling he planned to do this I would’ve reported him. You must believe me, Mr. Rafter.”

  “If you haven’t talked to Arcadias in two years there is no way you could’ve known. You shouldn’t feel guilt for something he did on his own.”

  Lorelei shook her head. “I feel partially to blame because I’m the one who introduced Arcadias to relic hunting. I even bought him his first metal detector. My father was a Civil War buff. He used to relic hunt quite a bit. So I thought since Arcadias was a history major he might enjoy looking for Civil War relics with my dad. You know, have something in common. But I greatly underestimated how much he would enjoy relic hunting. He quickly became obsessed with it. And he even vowed to me he would one day hold Jean Lafitte’s gold in his hands. I told him he was crazy and that it would never happen. But I’m afraid I only made Arcadias more determined to prove me wrong. Eventually he abandoned Alisha and me to treasure hunt around the clock.”

  “He made his own bed, Lorelei. Arcadias chose to break the law all on his own. You didn’t play any part in this,” Annie said.

  Rafter continued to watch Alisha. She was a pretty girl, and seemed down to earth, even modest. He didn’t understand how Arcadias could discard his wife and daughter so thoughtlessly. Rafter never wanted to be selfish like Arcadias and take Annie and Grace for granted. He couldn’t imagine missing a moment of Grace growing up.

  “Thank you for saying that,” Lorelei said quietly. She looked over at her daughter. “What makes this all so poignant is that we drove down to Grand Isle the night of the incident. We stopped at Arcadias’s treasure shop. Alisha wanted to extend forgiveness to her father, and offer to have a relationship with him. But of course he wasn’t there.”

  Rafter spoke to the girl. “Alisha, I admire your courage. Most girls your age wouldn’t have considered doing what you attempted to do.”

  Alisha looked up at him. Her brown eyes had grown moist. “I had to do it. I couldn’t stay angry at my dad any longer. The bitterness was changing my personality little by little. I hated what I was becoming. And Jesus said in Matthew 6:15, ‘But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.’ This verse convicts me. I can’t get it out of my head.”

  Lorelei placed an arm around her daughter. “Alisha just turned sixteen and she’s already more mature than me. I’m still not sure I’ve completely forgiven Arcadias. And if he’s ever found, I don’t know if I can attend his trial.”

  “Most people stumble over this verse, Lorelei. I know I do,” Annie said. “But just think if everyone on the planet kept the verse. Peace would rule the world.”

  A sudden prompting entered Rafter’s head. He’d never been an impulsive person. He preferred to weigh his options, research the cause and affects, the pros and cons before acting on an idea. But this prompting seemed divine in nature. An invisible hand pushed at his back, urging him to respond. “Alisha, do you have a summer job lined up?”

  “Not yet. I intend to get one though. I want to save up for a car.”

  Rafter looked at his wife. “We haven’t talked this over, Annie, but I didn’t think of it until now. We’re about ready to reopen for business. And summer is right around the corner. We’ll be swamped with guests and weddings. And now we have Grace to take care of. I think it might be time we hire our first ever employee to help us out.”

  Annie nodded. “I think you’re right, Jon. So what do you say, Alisha. Would you like to work here?”

  Alisha smiled. “Sure I would. What would I be doing?”

  “Mostly cleaning and preparing rooms, assisting me with weddings, running to town for supplies, and probably helping me with Grace.”

  “I can do all those things, no problem.”

  “Great, you’re hired,” Rafter said. “But there is only one stipulation. When you go to town for groceries, you have to drive my old truck, the one sitting by my art studio. Whenever I go to town for something I drive the pickup and skip the big supermarket. I go straight to McDougal’s General Store. I feel like I’m stepping back in time. It’s the coolest thing.”

  Alisha looked over at the restored 1954 Ford F-100 pickup truck. “It’s cute, but I only know how to drive an automatic.”


  “That’s okay. I can teach you. We have a long driveway and the road is quiet. Hardly anyone drives down it.”

  “Okay, that sounds fun.”

  Lorelei looked at Annie and then Jon. “But wouldn’t this be like a conflict of interest at the trial? My husband tried to kill you and now you’re employing his daughter.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, Lorelei. As slow as it takes the judicial system to work, summer will be over and Alisha back in school before the jury is even selected,” Annie said.

  Lorelei wiped at her eyes. “You two are so kind. I didn’t know what to expect when we came here. If anything I expected to receive cold indifference. But you’ve offered only grace. I can’t begin to thank you.”

  “Life is a challenge for everybody. But if we all help each other out life becomes easier,” Rafter said. He looked at his daughter Grace, awake now but content in Alisha’s arms. “God knows we all need a little grace every day.”

  Chapter 61

  That same moment

  Sitting in his recliner and surrounded by his grown children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, Ned Hoxley felt conflicted. He celebrated his ninetieth birthday today, and the love and attention showered on him made him feel young, but seeing his great grandchildren growing up so quickly made him feel old.

  The whole family had come over and squeezed into his tiny house to help him celebrate his milestone birthday. His daughters had helped Cora prepare a delicious meal of jambalaya and corn on the cob. After the main course they served him cake and ice cream. Stuffed to the gills, he forced down the dessert obligingly. And then he’d opened a few gifts. Now everyone sat around him and talked. Laughter rang out often.

  Connor Hoxley, his oldest great-grandchild moved from his spot and squatted down next to him. He held a pen and spiral notebook in his hands. “Hey, great-Grandpa Ned, I need your help with something,” Connor said.

  Ned looked at Connor, a strapping fourteen-year-old boy who reminded him a great deal of Bobby. His size and mannerisms, personality, and even hairstyle brought Bobby to mind. “Sure, I’ll be glad to help you any way I can. Do you need money?”

  Connor laughed. “No, I have a school assignment I need your help with, Grandpa.”

  “What subject? If its math you better find a different tutor.”

  Connor shook his head. “It’s a history assignment. I have to write a paper on World War II. This paper is worth a lot of points. It’s taking the place of our final.”

  “Okay, how can I help you?”

  Connor looked down at his notebook and fiddled with his pen, shoving it up and down into the metal rings. He looked back up. “I need your insight, Grandpa. And I need your story. I know you’ve never told anyone about your war experience. I understand it must be painful. But I’m hoping you can share a little with me today.”

  Ned closed his eyes and sighed. He said nothing for a moment. And then he opened his mud-colored eyes. “I’ve held in my war experience for 72 years. And it’s been an unwanted companion all this time. So maybe it is time I let it out.”

  “If the memories become too painful, we’ll stop. I’ll figure something else out,” Connor said as he flipped open his notebook.

  Ned cleared his throat and began. “The invasion of Normandy, or D-Day as it is most often called took place early on the morning of June 6, 1944. It was the largest amphibious assault to ever be launched. The landing took place on five beaches: Utah Beach, Omaha Beach, Gold Beach, Juno Beach, and Sword Beach. The main purpose of the invasion was to gain a foothold in France and liberate Paris, and then bring the war to Germany’s western border.

  “Over a hundred and fifty thousand Allied soldiers stormed the beaches that day. And I was one of them. Unfortunately I landed on Omaha Beach—a beach surrounded by steep cliffs and fortified by three German infantry battalions. The Germans had dug in well and used their 8 bunkers with 75 mm guns; 35 pillboxes; 85 machine gun nests; and dozens of rocket-launching sites to their advantage.

  “Before we landed an aerial bombardment was supposed to cripple the German artillery placements. But the weather worked against us. Dark, heavy clouds and mist rising up off the beach that morning hid the placements and the Allied shelling mostly missed their targets. To make matters worse only two of the 29 amphibious tanks launched from the sea even made it ashore because of the English Channel’s rough waters.

  “The landing craft I was on didn’t make it to shore either. About fifty yards from shore its hull was breached by one of the many hidden obstacles placed into the water by the Germans. We had to swim to the beach.

  “We were pinned down as soon as we stepped onto the sand. It was like we walked into a firing squad. The Germans strafed us with machine-gun fire from their pillboxes. Men dropped like flies. It was so bad General Omar Bradley almost nixed the whole operation.”

  Ned looked around the room. Everyone looked back at him. Tears filled his daughters’ eyes. Even his son’s eyes looked misty. Ned’s voice began to quaver. “I was just a wide-eyed Army private. I’d never fought any battles before. I remember my hands were shaking so badly I could barely hang onto my rifle.

  “Sergeant Harry Jacobs led our squad onto the beach. I followed close behind, scared out of my mind and praying the whole time. Sergeant Jacobs got hit immediately. He dropped right in front of me. I tripped over him and fell down. From on the sand I was face to face with the big sergeant. Half his face was gone, and I could see his brain through a big hole in his skull.

  “I screamed and scrambled to my feet. I mistakenly took three or four steps in the wrong direction back toward our landing craft. Someone pushed me back. I started to turn around and charge up the beach, but didn’t make it far. Somewhere close by a mine exploded and I felt shrapnel slice into my back. I went down again.

  “And I didn’t get up this time. I froze, too scared to move. Soon, bodies fell on top of me. They were men from my squad. I pretended to be dead the rest of the day. All the while dead and dying men lay on top me.” Ned paused to swallow. “Those dead and dying men saved my life. Their weight pressed against my back and staunched the blood flowing from my wound.

  “Hours ticked slowly by. The sounds of surf and screams and gunfire filled my ears. I heard dying men reciting Psalms 23. Every so often a stray round would find its way into the pile of bodies. I got hit in the leg and shoulder. Eventually I passed out. I was lucky I didn’t drown. The incoming tide drowned many of the wounded unable to move. Near sunset a medic found me and attended to my injuries.”

  Ned fell silent. He watched Connor furiously scribble notes into his notebook. He looked up. “What happened then, Grandpa?”

  “I was loaded onto a hospital ship and taken back across the English Channel to a hospital in England. I spent several weeks there recovering and then was discharged and flown home.”

  “Don’t forget to tell Connor how the people of Copeland gave you a hero’s welcome,” Cora Hoxley said.

  “They gave me a parade,” Ned said through clenched teeth. “I sat in a convertible as it drove me through the town square. People clapped for me. It was awful. I felt shame and guilt and remember thinking ‘this is the worst day of my life.’ I did nothing but play dead on a beach. And they gave me a parade for it. I remember thinking I wish I really had died on Omaha Beach.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t die, Grandpa. This room wouldn’t have nearly as many people in it had you died. And I wouldn’t be here,” Connor said.

  “Losing your life in battle is an honorable way to die. My buddies that I went ashore with, who died fighting are the true heroes.” Ned held out a hand toward Connor. “Let me see what you’ve written down so far.”

  Connor handed Ned his spiral notebook. Ned ripped off the top page and tore it into pieces. He threw the pieces onto the floor.

  “Grandpa Ned, this paper is due in four days. I have to read it aloud in front of my classmates. And the paper makes up one third of my grade.”

  Ned han
ded the notebook back to his great-grandson. “If you want to get an A on this paper you need to write about my brother Bobby and his girlfriend Rose. Bobby is a true war hero. And Rose is an example of the worst kind of war casualty, a casualty not mentioned enough. Families of the fallen are left behind to grieve the rest of their days. Their wounds never heal. And although Rose was never part of the Hoxley family, she would’ve been had Bobby survived the war. They had plans to marry. And no one grieved longer or harder than Rose Whitcomb.”

  “Okay, Grandpa, I’ll do whatever you wish.” Connor said, poising his pen over the notebook.

  Ned spent the next several minutes talking about Bobby and his contribution to the war effort as a tail-gunner on a B-17 bomber. He recited everything he knew about the plane crash and Bobby’s imprisonment, his escape, missing-in-action status and death high in the German Alps. He also described Rose in great detail and her great love for Bobby, leaving out only the couple’s discovery of a secret room and treasure box in Rose’s house.

  “That’s quite the story, Grandpa,” Connor said. “But I think this paper needs to be about all three of you.”

  Ned shook his head. “I’m not quite finished yet, Connor. I can be longwinded sometimes. So bear with me. When word reached this town that Bobby’s remains were found, a vicious rumor spread throughout Copeland. The townspeople accused Bobby of being a deserter and Nazi sympathizer. Some people even said he was never really missing, that he denounced his U.S. citizenship and lived out his days willingly in Germany.”

  “That’s awful, Grandpa. Why would someone start a rumor like that?”

  Ned shook his head. “I haven’t the foggiest idea. And would you believe only the Hoxley family and Rose attended Bobby’s funeral? Not one resident from Copeland attended. They all believed the lie. So Connor, this is your chance to right a terrible wrong. At least your classmates can know the truth. And this is your chance to honor Bobby, a true war hero and the finest patriot I’ve ever known.”