Carolina Booty

by T. Lynn Ocean

  I had to laugh. “You’re a walking encyclopedia. How do you know this stuff?”

  “It’s a curse. I can’t help it. Once I read something, it sticks. And I read a lot. I’m a sucker for lists. Surveys. Rankings. Ratings.” He shrugged. “Just love trivia.”

  “Well, a hundred bucks for an oceanfront lot is pretty amazing. I wonder what they sell for today.”

  He grinned. “There aren’t many left, but now you can’t touch an oceanfront lot for less than a million dollars. Just for the dirt. Or rather, sand. And that’s a relatively small one – just big enough for a beach house.”

  As we walked, I studied his feet. Like the rest of his body parts revealed to me in the past day, they were nice and strong-looking. Trimmed clean toenails. And tanned skin with just a smidgeon of curly blond hair on top.

  “Hungry?” he asked.

  I was. From the beach, we walked up to Bumz, a burger and sandwich joint with a large outside deck that faced the ocean. Sitting outside under an umbrella, we ordered grouper sandwiches with French fries and iced teas.

  Offshore, a boat pulling a colorful parasail glided by, and I heard faint laughter from the two people strapped to it. When our food came, we ate leisurely, observing the mix of tourists and locals around us. Afterward, we walked along Ocean Boulevard’s sidewalk, stopped at a few attractions and even rode the SkyWheel—a giant Ferris wheel with fully enclosed gondolas. We forgot about helping Avery and blew the entire afternoon sightseeing. On the way back to the car, we found a grocery and I bought a few things for Pop’s house.

  “This has been fun!” I said, when we were on the road driving back. “There’s something going on at every turn. So much activity.”

  “Rumton’s appeal lies in the exact opposite,” he said. “I bet people would go there to enjoy its quaintness.”

  “You mean it quirkiness,” I said.

  “Call it what you like, but every town has a personality and character. The key is to find a niche and figure out a way to market it.”

  “I thought you were research,” I said. “Not creative.”

  “This weekend, I’m both.”

  Chapter 7

  Flush sunned in the driveway when we got back. Instead of running to greet us like dogs are supposed to do, he rolled over on his back to get his belly scratched. While Justin busied himself getting the fax machine out of the trunk, I obliged the animal. His tongue fell sloppily out the side of his mouth and his eyes rolled back in canine ecstasy.

  Justin shook his head over the bulky box. “Sometimes I wish I were a dog.”

  An image of Justin sprawled in the driveway with his tongue hanging out made me laugh. And wonder if he was flirting with me. I couldn’t wait to tell Sheila that I’d spent the entire day with our vice president of market research. Mister Dullsville. Who admittedly had much more personality than I’d thought. Go figure.

  Inside, Pop and Avery drank beers and studied a printout. An old butcher block in the middle of the floor held some sort analytical equipment. Buzzing with a low-pitch tone, one mechanism seized Bandit’s full attention and she sat staring as though hypnotized.

  “Must have been one fancy fax machine,” Avery said, his eyes moving back and forth between the two of us. “Sure took you a long time to find it.”

  I rolled my eyes at the insinuation.

  Justin put down the big box. “I decided to show Jaxie around Myrtle Beach. A study in tourism.”

  “See anything interesting, Lass?” Pop asked.

  “The beach is inviting, and there are a ton of restaurants. And theaters and shopping. But the city is one giant tourist attraction. Everything has some sort of a theme and it almost overloads your senses. I can see why kids beg to go there for vacation, and I was hoping to pick up some good ideas for our revitalization effort. But I can’t even begin to imagine Rumton looking anything like Myrtle Beach does, even if it did border the beach.”

  “Me either. Wouldn’t want it to.”

  All the locals were happy with their slow-paced lifestyle. If I did manage to come up with a plan to stimulate their economy, the second battle would be to get everyone on board in support of it.

  Justin handed me a beer and opened one for himself. “I know you prefer wine or dry martinis, but your only choice right now is beer or whiskey.”

  He knew what I liked to drink? Spending time with Justin outside of the office was getting weirder by the minute. “Uh, thanks,” I said, and took a gulp of the beer.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, plopping down next to his brother. They eyed each other, communicating without words in only the way best friends or siblings can. Watching his nephews, Pop grinned.

  “So how’d it go today?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Justin said with raised eyebrows. “How did it go? I recognize that shit-eating grin of yours! What did you find?”

  Justin wore something besides suits, drank beer, and actually cursed once in a while? I think I raised my eyebrows, too. I was curious to find out what other surprises were in store. Maybe a night out on the town with him wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

  A wide grin spread across Avery’s face. “Remember the low-lying spot we used to always go play in as kids? We called it Devil’s Tail because it was skinny and curvy and ended in a fork?”

  “Yeah. And we always got in trouble because we’d come back caked in mud,” Justin said. “And then Pop would tell mom that boys will be boys, or something to that effect.”

  “Right. At which point Mom would reply that, at home, we never returned filthy and scraped up after going out to play.”

  Pop laughed. “And then I’d tell my sister that’s why she ought to bring you more often. Because this town is a wonderful place to get muddy and bloody!”

  Avery’s enthusiasm grew as he continued. “Well, I went to Devil’s Tail to look around and take some core sediment samples. I thought that’s where the original inlet might have been. And I wanted to see if it had totally dried out, or if the opposite happened and water is flowing again. I haven’t poked around there in years and years.”

  Realizing Avery’s lab equipment was off limits, Bandit climbed up my leg and hopped to the table to look for food. I pushed her long nose away from my beer. “And?”

  “It’s shifted a mile or so from where it was when we were kids, but there is some definite water flow that appears to be coming from Skirr Creek, which snakes out of the waterway. Water in Devil’s Tail is shallow, even at high tide, but it’s there.”

  Not finding any food on the tabletop, the raccoon scurried up Pop’s chest and settled on his shoulder as though interested in our conversation. “And?” I urged again.

  Avery’s grin grew bigger. “And then we took Pop’s boat out to explore from the ocean, where we found a swash which I think can be traced back to Devil’s Tail.”

  I wasn’t catching Avery’s enthusiasm. “But wait a minute. You said we’d never be allowed to dredge, even if we found the old inlet. So I don’t understand how all this will help.”

  Justin leaned forward and looked into his brother’s eyes. “There’s more. C’mon. Spill it.”

  “I found something else.”

  “What?” I demanded.

  “A piece of a skeleton.”

  The food in my stomach rolled. “Oh, gross.”

  “From a boat,” Avery added. “Just a few ribs of rotted wood. But definitely pieces of an old ship.”

  I was relieved it wasn’t human bones, but I still didn’t understand why he was so excited. “So?”

  “I may have found an undiscovered shipwreck.”

  “Unbelievable!” Justin said. “How old? Where? How deep?”

  Avery chuckled and gave his brother a ‘calm down’ motion with his hand. “I’ll be able to tell you more tomorrow, but since pieces of wood were preserved, it’s either a recently sunk boat, or it was buried deep under sand for a long time and just recently became exposed.” He slid a large cloth-wrapped item across the tabletop. �
�But I found this, still attached to a piece of the wood. It’s the ship’s bell. And it looks really old. Check out the engraving. That was her name.”

  Eyes gleaming as though it were a solid gold bar, Justin unwrapped the bell and leaned forward to read it. “The Aldora. Amazing. Have you told anyone else?”

  Riley came through the back door with Flush at his heels. “Told anyone else what?”

  Justin quickly rewrapped the tarnished bell.

  “It’s alright,” Pop waved a hand at his best friend. “Like any good politician, Riley can keep a secret if you bribe him into it.”

  Avery repeated the day’s events. When he finished, Rumton’s mayor rubbed his bald head and said, “huh.”

  “I don’t mean to undermine your find, but I’m still confused as to how it can help the revitalization effort. What’s the big deal about finding an old, buried boat?” I asked.

  I knew I’d asked an ignorant question when Avery shot me an incredulous look.

  “The ocean floors are peppered with shipwrecks, Jaxie,” Justin explained, shifting into encyclopedia mode. “There are hundreds in the eastern seaboard alone. They were torpedoed during acts of war, sunk in storms, or just mysteriously disappeared.”

  “Divers like to call North Carolina the graveyard of the Atlantic,” Avery said. “And the waters off South Carolina hold their share of failed voyages, too.”

  Justin nodded. “Marine charts pinpoint the location for lots of them, especially ones that scuba divers can explore. But there are plenty more undiscovered. Most of those are totally submerged beneath sand, usually in deep water. They have a tremendous historical value. And some have booty buried with them.”

  “Booty?”

  “Loot. Gemstones, coins, gold and other valuables.”

  Pop nodded. “Aye. Take Odyssey Marine Exploration, for example. It’s a publicly held company out of Florida that locates shipwrecks. They excavate ones that, as rumor has it, went down with booty aboard. Spent years looking for the SS Republic that sank in the eighteen hundreds.”

  “Eighteen sixty-five,” Justin confirmed. “It was a paddlewheel steamer traveling from New York to New Orleans. Got caught in a hurricane.”

  “So they found it?” I said.

  Nodding, Justin slid the heavy bell my way. “And recovered gold and silver coins. Seventy-five million dollars’ worth.”

  “Amazing.” I ran my hands over the bell and wondered about the ship it had been attached to. It was tarnished and dented, but the engraved name was unmistakable. The Aldora. Was it named after a woman, and if so, who was she? “So how does this company find shipwrecks?”

  Of course, Justin knew the answer. “They utilize historians, who do research to narrow the search area. Then they perform scientific research to find targets, usually in very deep water.”

  “Side scan sonar, and magnetometer technology, among other things,” Avery said. “Once they find an anomaly that looks promising, they send down a ROV – a remotely operated vehicle – to take a look around.”

  “So you think our shipwreck could have gold coins?”

  Justin’s eyes gleamed beneath the black rimmed glasses. “Probably not. But to locate a new shipwreck, whether or not there might be valuables associated with it, is very exciting. It’s a piece of history!”

  “We’ll have to see what we can find on The Aldora,” Avery explained. “It could be a supply ship. A wealthy plantation owner’s pleasure boat. Even a pirate’s ship!”

  Pop told me that remains of the Queen Anne’s Revenge, one of Blackbeard’s ships, was discovered in recent years just a few miles off the North Carolina coast.

  “But the reality is that most shipwrecks worth excavating are in very deep water,” Justin said, bringing my enthusiasm level down a notch or two. “They’re the ones that are preserved, and often, undisturbed. Our bell could belong to an old boat that just happened to wash up on Rumton’s shoreline. It might not have been carrying any valuable cargo.”

  “Or it might,” Pop said.

  “And it’s going to be fun to find out!” Avery laid back his head to get the last sip of beer and showed off a magnificently sculpted jaw. One that looked a lot like Justin’s. In fact, the two of them shared the same bone structure, I realized with a start. Seeing them side by side, I noticed that even some of their mannerisms were similar.

  “Huh,” Riley said again.

  “So, who owns it?” I wanted to know. “Do we go by the finder’s keepers rule?”

  “All depends on what our research turns up,” Avery answered, “and if somebody besides us can stake claim to it. If it’s something we wanted to pursue, we’d have to be awarded title and ownership.”

  Wanting to get her paws on the bell, Bandit jumped from Pop’s shoulder to mine, and pulled out some hair when she landed. “Ouch!”

  She chirped out an indignant response and moved on to find a more sympathetic human. I rubbed the stinging spot on my scalp. “Okay, and I don’t mean to sound like a killjoy. But it sounds like you’ll dig this thing up. And maybe even find some gold or something. Your discovery is way cool, but unfortunately, it still doesn’t help my revitalization assignment. Or does it?”

  “First of all, we won’t just dig it up,” Avery told me. “If there is anything left of a ship down there, we would preserve what we can. The first thing we’ve got to do is determine who it belonged to, what it may have been carrying, and why it ended up on Rumton’s doorstep. If there is any loot, we’ll deal with that when we get to it. As for your assignment, I have no idea if or how The Aldora may help. That’s for you to figure out.”

  Justin nodded. “I agree. But regardless of what happens, we need to keep this under wraps until we learn more and know what we’re dealing with.”

  “Absolutely,” Avery said and made a point to look at Riley. “For now, nobody talks to anyone about this, okay?”

  Everyone nodded their agreement.

  While the men conspired to come up with a course of action on the shipwreck, I decided to take care of dinner. I found my car keys to go retrieve homemade takeout from Chat ‘N Chew, and they breathed a collective sigh of relief when they learned that I wasn’t going to actually cook. Flush tagged along, and I didn’t even worry about the dog hair that I’d have to vacuum out at the car wash when I got back to Atlanta. Maybe life in Rumton was de-stressing me. Maybe we’d find a treasure that would bring an influx of money into the town, and I could head home. Maybe I’d even be rewarded with some gold bling for my troubles!

  As usual, Chat ‘N Chew looked empty. A few locals sat at a table playing dominos and a woman leaned against the counter talking to Bull. The black and tan basset hound I’d seen earlier was back, sprawled just inside the doorway, folds of its skin spread loosely around its massive body. Flush leaped over it, and hurried from person to person seeking a handout. One of the dominos players shelled a peanut and passed the nuts over. Flush munched contentedly before backtracking to sniff the hound in greeting. It never woke up.

  I took a closer look to see that it wasn’t dead. “Hey, Bull. Whose dog is this?”

  “Hiya, Hon. She’s a community dog. We all take care of her.”

  The dog let out a long, loud fart. It definitely wasn’t dead. “What’s her name?”

  “Don’t think she has one. I just call her Dog.”

  “Huh,” I said. “I need some takeout. Whatcha got cooking today?”

  “Meatloaf or chicken salad,” Bull said. “How many plates you want this time?”

  I knew Riley would still be there when I got back. “Five,” I told Bull. “Meatloaf. With whatever vegetable you’ve got. And rolls or cornbread, if you have any. And maybe some pie. Just throw in a whole pie.”

  She asked if I wanted extra for Bandit and Flush. I shook my head. “The dog’s already been fed. And I’m mad at the stupid raccoon. She pulled a chunk of my hair out today.”

  Bull hooted. “Probably wasn’t on purpose, Jaxie. I’ll throw in an apple muffin for
her.”

  Bull’s friend suddenly spun around and hugged me tight. “So you’re Jaxie! What a beautiful girl you are!”

  I sneezed. Twice. “Millie?”

  “That’s me, in the flesh! Was wondering when I’d run into ya. Aaron told me you’d be by the house soon. Practically begged me to make a batch of cookies.” Her whole body moved when she chuckled. Short and plump, she reminded me of an actress playing Missus Claus in a Christmas movie.

  I dug two Sudafed pills out of my purse and swallowed them without water, sneezed again, and rubbed my left eyelid to ward off the twitch that I knew would be forthcoming. “Yes, your cookies are famous. He wants me to mail him a box.”

  “I’ve got plenty,” she said brightly. “The secret ingredient that makes them so good is a splash of spiced rum in the dough. My mama’s recipe. Why don’t you come sit a spell after you eat your dinner and I’ll fix you up a Tupperware of them?”

  I’m not sure which came first – another sneeze or the eyelid spasm. My eyes watered from the mere thought of cat dander. “Tell you what. Why don’t you join us for dinner at Pop’s place and you can bring your cookies with you? Justin is actually in town, so he can take them back to Aaron.”

  She cocked her head for several seconds to think about it. “Why not? Don’t care much about breaking bread with Pompous Pop, but meatloaf sounds good. And I haven’t run across Justin in quite some time.”

  “Great,” I smiled, willing the antihistamine sitting in my stomach to dissolve quickly.

  “Make it six plates, Bull!” Mad Millie yelled into the kitchen for me.

  Before leaving Chat ‘N Chew, I used Bull’s phone to call the guys and warn them I’d be returning with a guest in tow. Justin answered and when he relayed the message, Avery’s laughing drowned out Pop’s grumbling in the background.

  Toting six cardboard containers of food, a pie, and one apple muffin, I loaded Flush back into the Range Rover.

  Millie cocked her head sideways. “Whose dog?”