The Smuggler's Gambit (Adam Fletcher Adventure Series Book 1)

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The Smuggler's Gambit (Adam Fletcher Adventure Series Book 1) Page 12

by Sara Whitford


  Adam’s mouth was agape. He couldn’t believe all this really happened—and right there in tiny Port Beaufort.

  Mary soon appeared at the table again with a huge tray full of food. She served Adam first and then Martin. Then she placed a basket of hot bread in the center of the table, along with a jar of strawberry preserves and another of butter.

  “How’s this, boys?”

  Adam and Martin both smiled and assured her that everything looked great.

  “Alright then. Y’all enjoy.”

  Adam and Martin bowed their heads to give thanks before digging in. Right away Martin commented on the difference between the food on their plates. They both had several strips of thick bacon, eggs that had been scrambled in grease, buttery grits, and each of them had a thick link of rope sausage, but on Adam’s plate a couple of the strips of bacon had already been torn up into pieces and stirred into his grits.

  “Aww. How sweet!” Martin teased. “That cook must really know you, huh?”

  Adam just rolled his eyes and shook his head. His mouth was too full of food to answer right away.

  “I mean, I haven’t had anyone fix my grits like that for me since I was a tiny thing,” said Martin.

  Adam nodded and swallowed, then chuckled. “Yeah, well, Aunt Franny has been the cook here since before even my mama came to this tavern. She helped look after me when I was a baby and knows the way I like to eat everything.”

  “Must be nice,” said Martin. “Maybe I should meet her,” he joked.

  Adam laughed. “Well, you’d never go hungry.” He grabbed a piece of bread from the basket and smeared on some butter and preserves, then took a bite. “So tell me the rest of that story,” he said through a mouthful of bread.

  “Oh, right. Where were we?”

  “Something about that man was planning to use his sister to distract Boaz while he stole from Emmanuel.”

  “Oh, that’s right. So what do you think happened?”

  Adam just shrugged.

  “Well, it turned out Bo was chivalrous. He wanted to preserve the girl’s virtue, so he wouldn’t give in to her advances. The whole plan of Freddy and Josephine kind of fell apart right there. Once Bo realized she was trying to seduce him, he left and told her they’d be married soon, that they ought to wait. He went right back to the warehouse and noticed Freddy wasn’t there working. He heard noises upstairs and figured Emmanuel might be there, so he went up to the living quarters and there was Freddy, filling a sack full of all kinds of things.”

  “You’re joking!” Adam exclaimed.

  “I’m not. Well, you can imagine Bo was mad as fire. He confronted Freddy about what he was doing—told him to put everything back, that he was going to turn him in to the authorities. But Freddy wasn’t gonna let him do that. He tried to push past Bo to leave the apartment. Bo tackled him and they ended up fighting. Somehow in the middle of it all, Freddy had a knife. Bo tried to wrestle it away from him, but Freddy wasn’t giving up. Somehow Freddy ended up with the knife in his gut, and that was the end of him.”

  “That’s awful! But it doesn’t sound like Boaz actually killed him. Sounds like the man fell on his own knife.”

  “Well, I reckon it was sort of like that, but it wouldn’t have happened if Bo had just let him go and then reported him to the authorities.”

  “So what happened with the girl? Josephine?”

  Martin grinned, excited to be able to recount such a shocking tale. “You’ll never believe it.”

  “What?”

  “Turns out Josephine wasn’t really Freddy’s sister. She was his wife. They had done robberies like this in other towns before but had just never gotten caught. Well, this time they did.”

  “Oh, man! I reckon Boaz was torn up about it.”

  “He was, and after that he swore off women. That was his first and only sweetheart, and for him to find out she was another man’s wife and how she had just used him so her husband could rob Emmanuel—well, it was all too much for him to take.”

  “That’s incredible,” said Adam. “I had no idea anything so exciting ever happened at the warehouse. I’ll never look at Mr. Rogers’s sitting room, or Boaz, without thinking about that now.”

  Martin nodded.

  The two quickly gobbled up the rest of their food. As they did, Adam had more questions for Martin.

  “I keep hearing about how Mr. Rogers never brings in anybody new. And I hear about how everybody who works for him is connected to him somehow. What’s the story with your family? How’d you end up working for him?”

  “I already told you my daddy was a cooper. Well, my mama, she’s Laney’s aunt, like I told you. She and her brother William had other brothers and sisters, too. Well, their daddy—my granddaddy—was good friends with Emmanuel back when they were young. They sailed together.”

  “Oh, really?” said Adam. “Was that before Emmanuel came to North Carolina or after he was already living here?”

  What Adam really wanted to ask was if Martin’s grandfather had also sailed with Blackbeard, but he didn’t think it would be a good idea.

  “Oh, well, my granddaddy and Emmanuel became good friends before Emmanuel ever came to North Carolina. In fact, he was one of a crowd of ’em from Bath who met Emmanuel after he lost his sloop down in the Caribbean. He ever tell you about that?”

  “He sure did,” said Adam. “He told me a lot of exciting things about when he was younger.”

  “I’ll bet. Did he tell you who used to be his captain?”

  Adam hesitated. He didn’t know if he should answer, then he decided he would, but without saying too much. “I believe he did.”

  “Come on now! You believe he did? You’d know for sure if he’d have told you.”

  Adam started to grin and looked away. “Yeah, well, I know what he told me. I just don’t know what you were told.”

  “Blackbeard, damnit!” Martin exclaimed under his breath.

  Adam nodded. “Yep. So your grandfather sailed with him, too?”

  Martin nodded. “Uh-huh. My granddaddy was one of his friends in Bath. You should know there ain’t nobody working for Emmanuel today who ain’t connected to those days somehow. Everybody in his company knows about it. And that’s why he don’t bring in nobody else. So you know what that means, don’t you?”

  Adam shook his head. “No. What?”

  “It means you must have some kind of connection to those days, too. You just don’t know it.”

  “What? Me? To Blackbeard?”

  Martin nodded. “Yeah, but don’t act so surprised. You wouldn’t ever believe how many folks got family members who sailed with him once upon a time. Here, over in New Bern, and in Beaufort County on the Bay River—all over the place.”

  “Eh, I don’t know. Why is this the first I’m hearing about it, then?”

  “Don’t know. Prob’ly cause a lot of folks ain’t proud of having pirates in the old family tree. It ain’t really like having a duke or a duchess, now is it?”

  Adam laughed. “No, I don’t reckon it is.”

  “Prob’ly the main difference is in those of us who descend from pirates. The ones who just have men in their families who were pirates, like uncles or cousins, they prob’ly don’t know the truth and all the stories. They just know what they read in the papers or in books. What was that one by Captain Johnson, or something or other?”

  “I read that book. Always figured it was all true,” said Adam.

  “Yeah. Everyone does. Let ’em. I wouldn’t want there to be some book out there with a real history of my family, would you?”

  Adam chuckled. “No, I don’t guess I would. So you’re saying that I must have some sort of connection to Emmanuel’s days of piracy? When were those days over?”

  “Hmm . . . seems like it was round about 1718, something like that.”

  “Huh.” Adam was trying to calculate dates in his head. “Couldn’t have had anything to do with my mother or father’s generation, then. My mama’s barely
thirty-five. I don’t know my father, but I do know he wasn’t much older than her. That means they weren’t even born by the time Mr. Rogers was already done with piracy.”

  “Maybe one of your grandfathers, then,” Martin suggested.

  “Maybe.” Adam’s eyes grew wide. “Or maybe even Valentine’s father.”

  “Maybe so,” said Martin. “You oughta ask him.”

  “Right. I’m just supposed to go up to Valentine and ask him if his daddy sailed with Blackbeard. Just like that, huh?”

  Martin laughed. “I don’t know. You’ll figure it out.”

  “Yeah, I reckon. Eventually. For right now, maybe we ought to get on back. I want to try to make peace with Boaz.”

  After he and Martin left the tavern, they returned to the warehouse, where they found a much calmer Boaz. Emmanuel was back upstairs in the living quarters going over the different orders for the pending arrival of the Elizabeth Ella.

  Adam wasted no time apologizing for how he’d acted earlier. He explained that he understood why Boaz might have said what he did, but he assured him that he didn’t need to worry about him doing anything to betray Emmanuel. By the end of the conversation, the two of them shook hands and agreed to be at peace with one another.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ADAM AND BOAZ AVOIDED ANY more confrontations for the rest of the day Monday and all day Tuesday. It was a relief to all of Emmanuel’s crew, who had to work later than usual readying the warehouse for the pending shipments.

  As soon as the day was done, Adam joined Emmanuel and Boaz for supper at the warehouse. Afterwards, he journeyed back to the tavern to visit for a little while. He enjoyed a brief chat with his mother in between her waiting tables and talked with Valentine while they closed up the tavern for the night.

  Just as he was about to bid them farewell, Aunt Franny’s son, Tim, appeared at the doorway from the kitchen. “I’m sorry to interrupt y’all, but there’s a man here to see you, Mr. Adam.”

  Adam glanced quickly at Valentine and Mary before Valentine said to Tim, “Who is it? We ain’t expectin anyone.”

  “He didn’t say nothin ’bout who he is, ’cept that Mr. Adam was expecting him for a meetin.”

  “Thank you, Tim,” said Adam. “Send him in, please.” He quickly motioned for his mother to go on upstairs out of sight.

  Just as she had gotten out of view, Richard Rasquelle entered the tavern from the kitchen—an unsettling sight for both Valentine and Adam.

  “What are you doing coming into my tavern after-hours?” demanded Valentine.

  “What coarse manners, Mr. Hodges!” said Rasquelle. “Surely our boy here has told you about our arrangement.” He looked over at Adam with a saccharine smile.

  “Actually, I haven’t told him anything specific, Mr. Rasquelle. You had told me to keep everything in confidence. And anyway, I wasn’t sure when you would want to meet.”

  “Meet about what?” said Valentine. He was quite convincing at feigning ignorance about the situation.

  “Young Mr. Fletcher and I have some business we need to discuss, but we’ll require a private room. Where might you be able to accommodate us?” Rasquelle turned his focus back to Adam. “Perhaps your mother’s quarters.”

  “No, sir. I’m sorry,” said Valentine. “No one enters the living quarters here unless they’re renting a room or they live here. Well, you don’t live here, and you can’t rent a room, because we don’t have any available right now.”

  “Mr. Hodges,” said Rasquelle, “Mr. Fletcher here assured me that you’d—”

  “How about in here, sir?” Adam offered. “The tavern is closed now, and Valentine is just about to retire for the night. We can talk in private right here.”

  Rasquelle was hesitant.

  “Sir, I’m sure you understand that I’m uncomfortable with bringing a gentleman up to my mother’s quarters. I wouldn’t want to do anything that might provoke gossip. I’m sure you understand.”

  Rasquelle reluctantly conceded to Adam’s request.

  “Very well then. We’ll meet in here, but Mr. Hodges, we do require privacy, so if you wouldn’t mind.”

  The tavern keeper glared at Rasquelle and grumbled under his breath as he dried his hands on the towel he’d been using to wipe down the counter. Just before he exited through the kitchen, he turned to Adam and said, “You be sure and lock up before you leave.”

  Adam nodded. “I will.”

  Rasquelle waited until Valentine disappeared into the kitchen before he began his inquisition.

  He turned his attention to Adam. “So tell me. What information do you have to report?”

  Adam shrugged. “What kind of information would you like to know, sir?”

  “Several days have passed since we met in my office. I’d like you to start with Saturday and work forward to today and tell me everything that’s happened.”

  “Alright, sir.” Adam gave the man a confused look, then thought for a moment before he began. “Well, as you said, we met on Saturday. Let me see . . .”

  He acted as if he was searching his memory for every detail. He even sat down at a bar stool, rested his elbow on the bar, and rubbed his forehead.

  “Hmm . . . After I left your office, I went back to the warehouse, but Boaz, my boss, said we were already done for the day, so he gave us the afternoon off. I ended up spending the rest of the day hanging around with a friend of mine.”

  Rasquelle narrowed his eyes with skepticism.

  Adam continued: “The next day . . . Let’s see . . . Since it was Sunday, there was no work. I went to church, then went straight home because I needed to wash my clothes so I’d have clean ones for this week. You know, I don’t have as many clothes as you, sir. Then, let’s see. I reckon I spent the rest of the day fishing, resting, visiting with friends and family, that sort of thing.”

  Rasquelle let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t care about how you spent your Sunday, boy. Just tell me about everything related to the workweek.”

  “Yes, sir.” Adam paused and thought for a moment or two before he began to recount the details of Monday.

  “Monday I woke up real early. I mean, real, real early. Mr. Rogers’s sloop set sail that day. After that I—”

  “Wait a minute,” said Rasquelle. “Rogers’s sloop left on Monday. Where to? What was her destination? What all did she carry?”

  “Oh, I don’t know the answers to all that. I mean, I just helped load up what was in the casks—I think some of them were full of pitch or something or other. And I had to make sure that the livestock on board were fed and watered. Then I came here and had breakfast.”

  “What about today?” Rasquelle asked. “Tell me what you did today.”

  “Oh, you know, just worked on making more casks. And I have to tell you, sir, I had no idea cooper’s work was so hard.”

  He could tell Rasquelle’s patience was growing thin. “Listen, boy—”

  “But you know, I have to tell you there was this one thing that kind of surprised me.”

  Rasquelle raised his eyebrows in anticipation. “Well . . . What is it?”

  “Did you know you have to use white oak for the casks that hold liquid but different kinds of wood, like pine or spruce, for the ones that hold dry things?”

  Rasquelle gave him a blank stare.

  “Aw, what am I thinking?” said Adam. “Of course you’d know all about that, but I didn’t. Just shows how much I have to learn about this business.”

  Rasquelle opted for a more direct approach. “Have you heard any talk about any shipments coming in or anything going out?”

  “I don’t know how to tell you this, sir,” said Adam, “but the one thing I’ve learned since I was brought on at Emmanuel Rogers is this . . .”

  “What?” Rasquelle said in a sharp tone.

  “He never brings anyone new into his warehouse. You already know that. You told me that the other day. Well, do you really think that they would take time to talk to me about things
coming in or going out at that warehouse? They’ve moved me from staves to hoops, and that’s near about all the action I’ve seen these last couple of weeks.”

  “So you’ve told me everything you have to report. Am I to understand you correctly?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Adam. “It has only been a few days, after all.”

  “You’re certain?”

  Adam nodded.

  “Well, maybe I can jostle your memory. I received word that you and one of Rogers’s men were seen going out to Lennoxville Point, to the Martin estate, right after you left my warehouse on Saturday. Would you like to tell me about that?”

  Adam was caught off guard. Who could have told Rasquelle that? Who could have seen them? Rasquelle must have more spies working for him, he reckoned.

  Adam thought quick and concocted a story to explain what Rasquelle’s spy had seen.

  “Oh, that? Well, I told you I spent the day on Saturday after I left your warehouse hanging around with a friend. It was Martin Smith. He works for Mr. Rogers, and he’s the cousin of the lady of the house, Miss Laney Martin. You may not know this, but Laney’s father is deceased and has left her in the care of a gentleman called Mr. Reading. Well, unfortunately Mr. Reading has been away on some business, so he had asked Martin to come by to check on Miss Laney, and since we were done with work anyway, Mr. Rogers gave us leave to go over there. When we got there, turned out there were a couple of things she needed done around the place, so we were happy to oblige.”

  “I see,” said Rasquelle. He paced across the room and then walked back. “Explain this to me, then: Why did this Mr. Smith need to take you with him to check on his cousin?”

  Adam smiled. “Well, uh, you see, this is a little embarrassing, but I asked Martin if I could come along so I could see the girl—his cousin. Lovely girl. But then again you’ve met her, haven’t you, sir?”

  Rasquelle was dismissive. “No, I haven’t had the pleasure.”

 

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