Treasure in Paradise

by Kathi Daley

  “The Sea Islands,” Meg began, “of which Gull Island is a part, are a chain of tidal and barrier islands off the southeastern coast of the United States reaching from South Carolina to northern Florida. Gull Island is the easternmost island in the chain, which, according to oral history, was originally settled by a group of pirates led by John Barkley in the late seventeenth century. Other islands in the area were populated by indigenous people until the Spanish began to colonize the islands in the mid-1700s.”

  “So if the treasure everyone is looking for belonged to a pirate who lived in the seventeenth century, it would be over three hundred years old?” I said.

  “If the legend is correct, John Barkley used the island as a base of operations for several decades until he and his men were forced to head south toward the Caribbean. Unfortunately, the pirates didn’t maintain a written history, nor did they keep any type of records, so what we know about their activity in this area is limited to oral history and hearsay.”

  “Okay, so say the fact that pirates lived on this island is true. And say there actually was a treasure. Why wouldn’t Barkley take it with him when he left?”

  Meg smiled. “That’s where legend trumps history. As far as I know, there’s no way to know exactly what Barkley did or why he did it. If we are to give credence to the legend, we’d be accepting that Barkley made the decision to leave because there were war ships in the area. It’s said Barkley felt it could be difficult to protect his ill-gotten gains at sea, so he left the treasure behind with the intention of returning for it once things cooled down. According to legend, Barkley died before he made it back to this area.”

  “Seems like a stretch.”

  “I agree. Most believe, as I do, that the story of Barkley’s treasure is just that: a legend. However, there were those, such as Garrett’s father and grandfather, who believed very adamantly that the treasure was not only real, but is still buried somewhere on the island.”

  I looked down at the book I’d been thumbing through. It was filled with maps of the islands in the area as surveyed in historical times. If the treasure did exist, and if Garrett’s ancestors did indeed have a map to it, I found it hard to believe that any clues from hundreds of years ago would still make sense in terms of current landmarks.

  “According to Garrett, his father and grandfather possessed a map that provided clues to the location of the treasure,” I commented. “Do you happen to know where the map came from in the first place?”

  “From what I’ve gathered, the map was discovered around a hundred years ago by Garrett’s great-grandfather, who’d found the parchment sealed in a vault in one of the caverns on the island. The Hanford family was said to keep the details of the map close to their chest, so I personally have never been able to verify the authenticity of the document, if it ever existed, though I have no reason to believe their ancestors would lie about such a thing. Having said that, I’d be amazed if the map was actually left on the island by John Barkley, as Garrett’s family believed.”

  “It would seem unlikely,” I agreed.

  “While I very much doubt whatever map they had belonged to John Barkley, I’d still be very much interested in obtaining it for the museum.”

  “According to Garrett, his mother destroyed it after his father’s death.”

  Meg frowned.

  “If a map did indeed exist, I doubt Lillabeth Hanford destroyed it. Lilly was an educated woman who would have understood the intrinsic value of a three-hundred-year-old parchment, even if it didn’t actually lead to a treasure. I suppose she may have told Garrett she destroyed it as a means of preventing him from making the same mistakes his father and grandfather had. It’s my guess that, if there was a map, she would have hidden it rather than destroyed it.”

  “So the map could very well be hidden somewhere that only a dead woman would know,” I mused.

  “Yes, I suppose that could be true. Such a shame. A map of that age would be a huge find for the museum.”

  “Or it might just bring it trouble,” I pointed out. “Whether or not the map actually leads to a treasure, there are treasure hunters—quite a few, from what I’ve gathered—who do believe in its existence. I have a suspicion that if you were to display such an object it wouldn’t take long for someone to break in and steal it.”

  “Yes, you could be right. It’s not as if we have any sort of high-tech security system.”

  “Speaking of security systems, I met a woman named Bev at Gertie’s Café this morning who told me that Norton had been seen loitering around Garrett’s property.”

  “I’ve heard that Norton was snooping on Garrett’s property from two different people,” Meg confirmed. “Both are volunteers with the turtle rescue movement. One was a woman named Mamie Sue who owns a bicycle rental in town and the other is a man named Digger. He’s out at the resort frequently and keeps track of all the treasure hunters in the area to make sure they don’t dig too close to the nests.”

  “Garrett mentioned that I should tread lightly around Digger.”

  “He’s a good man who’s very passionate about the turtles, and the beach just beyond the southern border of the resort is a key nesting area,” Meg informed us. “Garrett had always been good about monitoring the activity on that section of beach.”

  “Do you know where I can find Digger?”

  “He works at the cemetery digging graves and keeping up the grounds.”

  “Hence the name Digger.”

  “Exactly. He’s off on Mondays and Tuesdays, so your best bet is to look for him on the beach. Now that nesting season is upon us, he spends most of his free time checking on the nests.”

  “When exactly is nesting season?”

  “Early May through late August. The eggs begin to hatch in early July.”

  “So the eggs are close to hatching?”

  “They are.” Meg handed me a brochure. “I’m part of an organization that monitors and attempts to ensure the safety of as many nests and hatchlings as possible. We have teams that check on the nests every evening during hatching season.”

  “Do the turtles really require that much help?” Grandpa asked.

  “They can use all the help they can get. Even with education programs and help from groups like ours, only about three-quarters of the eggs hatch, and only a very small percentage of the hatchlings make it to adulthood,” Meg explained.

  “If Mr. Norton gets his way and builds a megaresort on Garrett’s land, it would impact the turtles?” I asked.

  “It would be a disaster. Garrett has assured me that he’ll never sell to the man, but that doesn’t seem to have stopped him from trying. If he gets his way and brings all those tourists to our shores, I can guarantee you all the work we’ve done to protect the nests will have been for naught. One way or another, he has to be stopped.”

  “I intend to go to the meeting on Thursday. I’ll make sure everyone knows Garrett has absolutely no intention of selling to a developer,” I assured Meg.

  “That’s good. It appears you’ve arrived just in time. While there are those who are against the idea, there hasn’t really been a strong opposition, if that makes any sense.”

  “It does. Norton is the only one with an organized campaign. I really don’t see why he’s bothering. He certainly can’t force Garrett to sell to him.”

  “Garrett is a good man who will do the right thing, but I’ve seen instances when a great enough public need has been identified, so the courts forced a sale. It’s rare, but it happens,” Meg said.

  “We’ll just have to be sure Norton doesn’t get the support he needs. The need to protect the turtles can be used as an additional argument against the sale to a developer if it should come down to that. I know one of the ski resorts in the area where I live wanted to expand and even had preliminary approval to do so until it was disc
overed that a rare bird had nested in the area. The ski resort had to change their plans so as not to disturb the bird.”

  “If it comes down to that I’ll be happy to argue on behalf of the turtles.”

  Doc called and informed me that he’d picked up Kyle and the girls from camp since Grandpa and I had lost track of time. I hadn’t meant to stay so long at the museum, but Meg was passionate about her cause and persuasive to boot. By the time we left, she had managed to obtain a promise from Grandpa to serve as a volunteer for both the museum and the Turtle League. His first turtle walk would be with Meg that very evening.

  Later that afternoon I called Jenna to check in even though I’d just spoken to her on Friday. The normal cheeriness of her voice had been replaced with a tone indicating that she was tired and distressed.

  “Hey, Bestie, how’s it goin’?” I asked.

  Jenna immediately began to cry.

  “What’s wrong?” I was suddenly on full alert. “Dennis? The girls? Is everyone okay?”

  “Everyone is fine,” Jenna sobbed. “I’m just having a bad day.”

  I sat down on one of the lounge chairs overlooking the sea. “Tell me everything. Start from the beginning.” I had to admit I was concerned. Jenna wasn’t the sort to cry at the drop of a hat.

  “Everything was fine until I woke up this morning and found that Dennis hadn’t come home last night.”

  “Hadn’t come home? Surely you don’t think…”

  “No, I don’t think Dennis is having an affair. Not with a woman at least. I do think he might be having an affair with his job.”

  I frowned as I tried to make sense of what Jenna was telling me. “Dennis had to work late?”

  “Dennis always has to work late, and he always finds a reason to go in early. Last night he figured there was no use coming home for such a short amount of time so he stayed over with the guys.”

  “Dennis used to do overnight shifts all the time before his promotion,” I pointed out. “You never seemed to mind.”

  “It was his job to stay over before. Now that he has a choice as to whether to come home or not it feels like a betrayal when he doesn’t choose to spend time with me and the girls.”

  Okay. I could see Jenna’s point. “I’m sure it won’t always be this way. Dennis is new in his role as captain, and I’m sure he’s just trying to let the guys know he’s one of the team. I’m sure that once he settles into his new role he’ll settle into a regular routine.”

  “I guess. But right now it’s hard. Add the fact that things have been crazy at the restaurant and my best friend is AWOL and I’m just a mess.”

  “I’m sorry, Jen. Really. I feel like my selfish decision to come to Gull Island might very well have been a mistake with each day that goes by.”

  Jenna paused to blow her nose.

  “No, it’s not your fault. I’m just being emotional. It’s been forever since Dennis and I took a vacation, which is the subject of fight number two.”

  “Dennis doesn’t want to go on the trip you have planned?”

  “He wants to postpone. He doesn’t think it is the right time to be away. I guess maybe he’s right, but I still feel like I’ve somehow become a second priority in his life behind his job.”

  “Come to Gull Island. We have a beautiful house right on the water with tons of extra bedrooms. You and I can visit and the girls can spend some time together.”

  My suggestion was met with silence.

  “Jen?”

  “I’m here. I’m thinking.”

  “Are you considering it?”

  “Actually, I am. I’ll have to figure out what to do about the restaurant, but the girls would love to spend some time with Ashley and Gracie. I think they feel as deserted as I do about the whole thing.”

  “So come.”

  “I’ll talk to Dennis and let you know, but if I can work out the logistics, I’d love to.”

  Chapter 7

  The news that Buck Barnes hadn’t been murdered, as we’d assumed, but had died of natural causes came as quite a shock.

  “Natural causes? But what about the head injury?” I asked Deputy Savage, who had come by the house later that evening while Grandpa and Kyle were out.

  “We believe Buck hit his head when he fell.” He seemed to be sincere, but my instinct told me he was lying. The problem was, his stoic facial expression and monotonous voice pattern made it impossible to know for certain.

  “But he was found lying on his back and the injury was to his temple. Besides, there wasn’t anything nearby for him to have hit his head on.”

  “I can assure you that we’ve taken all the evidence into account, including the placement of the body and the apparent head injury. I really can’t go into detail at this time, so you’ll just have to accept the fact that I’ve been doing this for a long time and I know what to look for. The reason I came by was to inform you that the attic is no longer off-limits. You’re free to clean up as you see fit.”

  “Clean up? Are you sure? What if it’s later determined that foul play was involved? There could be clues to be found in the attic. Fingerprints or other physical evidence, for starters.”

  “The death has been ruled an accident, the investigation has been closed, and Buck Barnes’s body has been cremated. Like I said, you’re free to clean up once I remove the tape from the attic doorway.”

  Deputy Savage took a step toward the stairs as if to do just that.

  “Wait! This doesn’t make any sense. It looked like Buck had been hit over the head and it seems like there are any number of possible suspects who might have had motive to do just that. Buck couldn’t have died of natural causes. The attic was totally trashed. Someone was up there looking for something.”

  Deputy Savage let out a long slow breath that seemed to communicate his frustration with our conversation. “Look, I know you have good intentions, and it seems like foul play was involved, but we’re certain it wasn’t. Like I said, I can’t tell you any more right now, but we’re certain that, other than the fact that Buck obviously broke into this house, most likely to search for a map that doesn’t exist, no crime has been committed. I’m going to suggest you forget all about this unfortunate incident and enjoy the rest of your summer.”

  Seriously?

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must go upstairs to remove the crime scene tape and be on my way.”

  There was no way Buck Barnes broke into the house, trashed the attic, had a heart attack or some other natural event that could have led to his death, and then hit his head as he fell to the floor, making it look like he’d been bludgeoned. The entire situation was ridiculous. More than ridiculous; it was downright unbelievable. And the fact that his body had been cremated was just a bit too convenient.

  “What was that all about?” Doc asked after Deputy Savage left. Since both Kyle and Grandpa were out it was just the two of us with the girls.

  “It seems Buck died of natural causes. The deputy came to remove the police tape from the doorway of the attic.”

  Doc frowned. “Natural causes? Why does he think that?”

  “He declined to say. He just said they’d determined Buck died of natural causes and we were authorized to go ahead and clean up the attic.”

  Doc turned and headed toward the stairs without saying another word. I followed him. When we arrived at the attic he walked immediately to the place where the body had been found. “Have you been up here at all since we found the body?”

  “No.”

  “Has anyone?”

  “Just Deputy Savage. He came by on Friday night. He said he had something he wanted to check. I let him in, but he wouldn’t allow me to follow him up. Why do you ask?”

  “Because something is different. I can’t put my finger on it at the moment, but things h
ave been moved around. I need to take a look at the body. There’s no way the injury to the head was the result of a fall.”

  “Savage said Buck’s body has already been cremated.”

  “That seems convenient.”

  “That’s what I thought. Why would the deputy rule Buck’s death to be the result of some natural cause when there was obviously foul play at work? The whole thing makes no sense.”

  “I’m not sure.” Doc walked around the attic as if he were looking for something that would explain the strange turn of events.

  “Should we do something? Tell someone what we suspect?”

  Doc stopped walking and turned to look at me. “If the deputy has filed a report stating that Buck died of natural causes in order to cover up a murder, which is what I suspect is going on, the coroner must be in on it as well.”

  “Unless the deputy never did have the coroner look at the body,” I suggested. “Remember, it was the man from the funeral home, not the coroner, who came to take the body away. Remember when Zachary died and the sheriff closed the case without even investigating? I was told that when an elderly person dies of what looks like natural causes an investigation is never opened and an autopsy isn’t required. I’m not sure what the protocol is here, but if Deputy Savage is trying to cover something up, it seems that all that he had to do was exactly what he has.”

  Doc frowned. “It does seem as if the whole thing is being swept under the rug.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “I’m not sure. We’re new to the island and folks will have no reason to believe us if we choose to contradict what Savage is telling everyone. Without some sort of proof, it’s our word against his. We’d better tread lightly.”