Treasure Point Secrets

by Sarah Varland

  Was she scaring herself and allowing the hostile-looking environment to play tricks on her? Or was her subconscious picking up on a threat and warning her to stay alert?

  She glanced behind her and scanned the entire area. Nothing but Adam and utter wilderness. She smiled at him, hoping her unease wasn’t clear in her eyes, and turned back around.

  Yeah, she could definitely see pirates, or any other kind of criminal, being at home here.

  “So how should we be searching?” Adam asked in a low voice, close to her ear. She appreciated how softly he spoke, just in case trouble had followed them here. Or in case they’d followed trouble. In either situation, it was best that they be moderately inconspicuous, like two hikers out for the day, for as long as possible.

  She shrugged. She hadn’t gotten quite that far in her plans. Maybe she should have borrowed a metal detector from someone in Treasure Point. Of course, that would have raised questions. Besides, treasure hunting was illegal on the island. Shiloh was ignoring that by telling herself they weren’t really treasure hunting. They were hunting the treasure hunters themselves. Just in case, she’d tucked her badge and gun in the backpack. She’d still get in trouble, especially if they called the chief and discovered this wasn’t official business, but hopefully, her credentials would keep her from paying an exorbitant fine or landing in jail.

  “Just keep your eyes open,” she finally whispered to Adam.

  They pressed on deeper into the woods, Shiloh still feeling as if every step was taking her further from her comfort zone. A warm breeze rustled through the trees just as the sky darkened, and they lost even more light. What was it about these woods? Everywhere else she’d ever been in coastal Georgia had felt like home to her.

  Careful inspection of the trail and any wildlife paths shooting from it had revealed nothing. If the treasure was hidden in these woods, it was probably undiscoverable, by Shiloh or anyone else. She couldn’t decide if that made her feel relieved or frustrated. On one hand, finding the treasure was her best shot at locating the criminals. On the other, if she couldn’t find it, that meant they probably hadn’t, either. After the murders they’d committed, it just seemed wrong to think that they might get what they wanted.

  Just when Shiloh thought they were lost in these woods forever, the light grew brighter and she realized she could see sandy beaches and the ocean up ahead. “I guess we’ll try another trail.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  They took the north trail. Just the one trail they’d hiked so far had taken several hours, and Shiloh had already decided that if they were here after sunset, she’d want to be on the beach, not on the trail that bordered the wilderness area.

  Especially since the map indicated it led to Crematorium Road. She didn’t even want to ponder what that meant.

  “Is it safe to talk?” Adam asked once they were well on the new trail.

  Shiloh shrugged. “I suppose, a little. What about?”

  “If you have any ideas about...who. In Treasure Point, I mean.”

  She hated the thought that someone she knew might want her dead, but given the way her conversations got back to the criminals, the conclusion was inescapable. No one she’d talked to had reported seeing strangers in town lately. Either they’d done a phenomenal job lying low or it was one of the people in town.

  Maybe it was because she’d made Treasure Point into a modern-day Mayberry in her head, but that thought hit her harder than she would have expected.

  “Who’s behind everything?” she asked just to clarify.

  He nodded.

  She paused for a minute, stopping where she was on the trail as though that would help her figure out who in her little haven might want her dead.

  * * *

  Adam had no idea what he’d said to put that pained look on Shiloh’s face, but he wished he could take it back and return her expression to the carefree one he’d seen on the boat earlier.

  Of course, it was hours too late for that. Her entire demeanor had changed when they’d set foot on this island. And he couldn’t blame her. It was as if he could feel history breathing down his neck here. And since most of the history with Blackbeard Island, from what he’d researched, either had to do with pirates or quarantines...well, neither evoked happy feelings.

  But why the shaded look in her eyes now? The hardening of her features? Was it because he’d asked whom she suspected? It had been a straightforward-enough question, and with her analytical brain, he had a hard time believing it wasn’t something she’d already thought through in detail.

  But since she’d just come to an abrupt halt in front of him, nearly causing him to trip over her, it had apparently touched a nerve somewhere.

  “Should we sit?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before he led her to the side of the trail and a log that would make a good bench. If her faraway look was an indication, she’d miss any clues she was searching for anyway if they kept walking, and he wasn’t sure he was much help in that department. He was doing the best he could, but Shiloh was the cop. And a good one, too, he knew, despite how much he wished she could have chosen another career. Or just stuck with the first one.

  She’d seemed happy with her job back then—and happy with him. But while the history professor she had been had seemed perfect for the businessman Adam once was, there was too much dividing the pastor and the policewoman.

  He settled down beside her on the log. “Want to tell me what’s got you so upset?”

  She sat with her elbows on her knees, head between her hands. “Someone’s trying to kill me.”

  He wasn’t entirely sure how to reply to that.

  Thankfully, she clarified, right after she let out a groan that just about broke his heart in two. “I’ve known that, obviously. But I hadn’t really considered until recently that it’s probably someone I know. But it makes sense. Either this guy is really, really good not to have drawn anyone’s attention or he’s a local.” She choked out the last few words. “I love that silly little town and the people. To think that one of them might...”

  He heard her swallow hard and then she quit talking. Probably to keep from crying—he knew she couldn’t stand that. She’d already come pretty close too many times lately for her taste.

  He waited for a minute and sat quietly, listening to the bugs and frogs and whatever else was in these woods.

  And then she drew a deep breath and spoke with a level of confidence that either scared him or made him proud—he had no idea how someone could shut off their emotions like that and wasn’t sure it was a good thing, although it made her good at what she did.

  “People it could be. Um, I suppose someone from the department could be involved.” She lowered her voice. “Lieutenant Davies showed up at the scene of the shooting fast. Really fast. And running was something I decided to do right when I was leaving the chief’s office. I told him I was going and left—someone must have overheard me to know that’s where I’d be.”

  She paused. “Any of the EMTs who responded to the shooting could have been in the area because they were involved.” She paused again. “Some random person in town is possible...even though I haven’t even really talked to anyone else in the last few weeks—and Mary Hamilton, but I think we can be sure she’s not involved. It’s got to be someone who knows the area, though. Maybe I should look into who’s running charter services to Blackbeard Island these days. Different people have done it over the years. That might be somewhere to start.”

  Adam nodded. Not much of a list, but he couldn’t blame her. Now that he thought about it, it had to be a tough list to make.

  “I’m ready again. Let’s go.” She stood up, and they resumed their trek down the trail.

  Within minutes the scenery changed again—which it did a lot on this island—and the trail circled around a pond.

 
“Think it could be in that somewhere?” he asked, pointing at the murky water.

  Shiloh shook her head. “Rumors about Blackbeard say he came and went from here a lot. If he wanted to be able to easily reach his stash then it would need to be somewhere relatively accessible. That’s why I haven’t bothered to venture off of the main trails. Well, that and snakes. But these paths are here because they were natural game trails, which means they’re the ones animals, like deer, on this island would have been traveling even in Blackbeard’s time. Wherever it is, it will be well hidden but easy to get to.”

  Her theory sounded logical enough but didn’t put them any closer to finding the treasure. Adam picked up the pace to work out some of his frustration, since he didn’t have a punching bag handy. The treasure was beginning to look impossible to find, the case harder and harder to solve.

  TWELVE

  Shiloh’s breath caught in her throat, and chills crept down her arms and legs. The so-called bone graveyard, a vast span of dead trees on the north shore of Blackbeard Island, was like nothing she’d seen before.

  The skeletons of trees stood there in the sand as if time had frozen them.

  “What makes them do that?” she wondered softly, more to herself than anybody else.

  “The ocean’s taking over this spot of the island again. I read about it when I was researching. The tide has started to come all the way up here, and the consistent exposure to salt water kills the trees.”

  “And leaves their bones.” Shiloh walked closer to the otherworldly area to inspect it. She’d been startled when Adam had first spoken up to answer her question. This was yet another place on the island where she felt as if she’d stepped into another world, away from everything that was familiar.

  She stepped around one of the tree skeletons and walked away from the standing water, toward the shore. No sign of treasure that she could see.

  What if there was no treasure at all in connection with Annie’s death? But, no, there had to be. Shiloh had no reason to doubt it. The entire treasure probably wasn’t gold—pirates like Blackbeard tended to diversify and much of the bounty would be parts of ships that were expensive and easy to sell—but there were too many reports of treasure for it to all just be a myth.

  Still...what if the men had already found it? Maybe it was gone, and they had stuck around this part of Georgia only to make her pay for having the audacity to live when she should have died right along with her cousin.

  The cracking of a tree branch in the forest just yards from the beach snapped Shiloh to attention. “Did you hear that?”

  Adam had tensed, too; she could see it in the way he stood. “It’s probably just an animal.”

  But she could tell the words were only meant to reassure her.

  Shiloh shivered. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Aren’t there still miles of beach left to cover?” He looked into her eyes as if searching for something.

  Shiloh darted her gaze to the woods where she’d heard the sound, where she somehow felt as though someone was watching them. “Some other day, maybe. For now, we should go.”

  “Okay.” He nodded slowly. “Which way?”

  Shiloh pulled the map out of her pocket. “I think it’s about an equal distance either way we go.”

  “Let’s go the way we haven’t been yet, then.”

  The glimmer in his eyes said he hadn’t given up on finding a lead today. Shiloh hated the feeling of defeat she’d allowed to steal over her, but she was afraid she was being more realistic than Adam.

  Just another reason a cop and a pastor were incompatible. It was her job to see the world the way it was—grit and sin and all. It was his job to see the best in people.

  But the irrational feelings of warmth that stole over her as he grabbed her hand and walked on the beach alongside her defied logic. Maybe that was how falling in love was supposed to be.

  Love...had she let herself admit yet that love might be exactly what she felt for Adam?

  The walk seemed to take less time now that they were holding hands. She still kept her eyes open for any signs of criminal activity but she was certain the treasure wasn’t here.

  So where was it? Found—as she feared? Or hidden somewhere she hadn’t yet suspected?

  She and Adam stopped several times to rest and drink more water, ever since the hot Georgia sun had started beating down on them hours ago.

  “We forgot to eat lunch,” Shiloh remarked as she drained her last water bottle. She eyed the peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches she’d made last night. “Want one?”

  Adam shook his head. “Too hot to eat.”

  He had a point. Besides, the sandwiches hadn’t taken the heat well, either, and had mushed together in a less-than-appetizing way. Yeah, she’d skip lunch, also.

  Finally, the boat dock was in sight.

  “So is it just me—” she puffed between breaths “—or was this a more intense hike than you’d thought?”

  Shiloh looked over at him and tried not to be jealous. The man was barely out of breath. She knew he worked out, but apparently he was in better shape than she’d realized.

  He shrugged. “Yeah, it was tougher.”

  But nothing about him backed that up. In fact, she had a sneaking suspicion the only reason he’d said so was to make her feel better. Which was ridiculous. And very sweet.

  They climbed into the boat, and Shiloh untied it and then navigated it down the creek back into open water.

  “Take the wheel for a minute?” she asked Adam once they were cruising comfortably. He did so without hesitation, and she pulled her key chain from her pocket and unlocked the storage compartment. She reached for one of the water bottles, twisted open the cap and took a long drink, then reached for another to offer to Adam.

  “Want one?” She reached it out toward him as she stood.

  But the boat shifted under her as she did. Or maybe it was the sky above her that was moving. It tilted one way, then the other, and then everything swirled into chaos.

  Right before it all went black.

  * * *

  One minute Shiloh had been standing, looking like her normal self and ready to resume her place as captain of her boat.

  Seconds later she was sprawled on the deck, her skin a shade of greenish-gray that made Adam feel sick to his stomach.

  He could see the mainland in the distance, but for now they were still in open water. He glanced at the horizon, then at Shiloh’s prone form, debating his options and finally letting go of the wheel to get on his knees to check on her.

  He wasn’t a doctor, but her pulse seemed a little weaker to him than it should have been, and her forehead was warm. Of course, the warmth could be easily explained away by all their exercise and the sun bearing down on them. As for her loss of consciousness...dehydration was a possibility.

  He eyed the water bottle on the floor next to her. Given her appearance, poison was an even better one.

  He shook her gently. “Come on, Shiloh.” No response. He hadn’t expected one, but it had been worth a try. Realizing he was worthless as a doctor, he decided the best thing he could do was get them back to Treasure Point as fast as possible. It would be even better if he could divert their course and get to a bigger city that would have better poison-treatment options, but he would be lucky enough to remember the way back to where they’d come from.

  The vibrations of the steering wheel beneath his hands as he increased his speed did a little to comfort him. At least he was doing what he could. He kept his eyes focused on shore and prayed harder than he ever had before.

  The marsh that lined Treasure Point’s shore grew closer, and he thought he could make out the channel he was supposed to take to get the boat back to the launch.

  And then the boat sputtered. And began to cough in
protest. He felt it shudder beneath him and glanced down to note that even the discordant motions weren’t rousing Shiloh at all. He couldn’t remember for sure from his first-aid classes from years ago, but he thought the longer someone was unconscious, the worse that was for them.

  He was still staring at Shiloh, wondering why she wouldn’t wake up, wondering what he was supposed to do about this malfunctioning boat, when it stopped right there in the water, maybe two hundred yards from shore. Waves tossed the boat, the sound of the spray seeming louder than it should. There were no other boats out. No people in sight.

  They were alone. He looked back at Shiloh. Alone and likely running out of time.

  Adam felt useless. He’d give anything to have the skills of a doctor or a mechanic. But he had neither. So he checked the only thing on the boat he really knew to check. The gas gauge.

  Empty.

  Hadn’t Shiloh told him she’d checked the gas level twice? Either she’d missed something she should have seen...

  He looked down at the half-empty water bottle beside Shiloh.

  Or someone had poisoned her and then siphoned enough gas from the boat to get them tantalizingly close to help—but far enough away that they’d never make it in time.

  Rage made his face heat, and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. What kind of people did this? And how were he and Shiloh supposed to stop them when the bad guys were always one step ahead?

  Dear Lord, please help us.

  He bent down and felt Shiloh’s pulse and forehead again. Her pulse remained the same, which he breathed a prayer of thanks for, but her forehead was burning hot.

  Whatever drugs were in her system, they were working fast. And he was stuck here with no way of getting help.

  He eyed the marshy shoreline. He could swim the distance easily enough, even fully dressed. But leaving Shiloh alone and unconscious when someone was making a habit of trying to kill her didn’t seem like a good idea.