Pirate

“Don’t worry about me,” Larayne said. “I’m gonna have a friend come get me. Go. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m not alone,” she said, nodding to the woman dusting for prints. “If my friend doesn’t get here by then, I’ll get a ride to his place with the CSI. If that’s okay. He’s just a mile up the road.”

The CSI agreed, saying it wouldn’t be a problem.

“Then, yes,” Bree said to Remi. “I’ll go with you.”

Two hours later, they arrived at the hangar where the jet awaited.

Sam and Remi changed out of their damp clothes that were covered in glass dust from the SUV’s broken window. While Sam was up front in the cockpit discussing their travel plans with the crew, Remi sat with Bree at the table in the main cabin.

Bree was talking on the phone. “Why don’t you try to get some rest. I’ll call as soon as I get home… Talk to you then.”

When Bree disconnected, Remi asked, “Everything okay?”

“I just wanted to check in with Larayne to see if her friend had picked her up. He did. She’d had quite a bit to drink by the time we got out of there.”

“I noticed. Speaking of, would you like something to drink before dinner?”

“Yes,” Bree said. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“What would you like? Coffee, tea, or something stronger?”

“You know…” Bree took a deep breath. “I think something stronger. As long as it’s not vodka. Maybe a little sherry.”

Their flight attendant, Sandra, appeared with a tray bearing cheese and crackers. Remi thanked her. “Two glasses of sherry will do nicely,” she said. “Actually, pour a scotch, too. Sam will undoubtedly join us.”

Sandra returned shortly with the sherry and scotch, then faded into the background. Remi lifted her glass. “So glad to have you back.”

“Thank you.” Bree gave a tired smile, then sipped, catching her breath as the alcohol hit her mouth. “That’s… more than I’m used to.”

Remi smiled as Sam joined them at the table, taking a seat next to her. “So,” he asked, “how is Larayne doing?”

“Fine, I guess. She was pretty upset, apologizing for what happened, saying it was her fault, that she brought Charles Avery into all this.”

Sam picked up a couple of crackers from the tray. “We don’t know yet if he’s behind this.”

“Larayne seems to think he is. She said she remembered one of them talking to someone named Charlie on the phone about looking for these markers.”

“Markers?” Sam said.

“Something to do with the map book. I have to assume it was related to this key or something.”

“Did she say where?” he asked.

“Something about some pit or oak on some island? Larayne was pretty blitzed,” she said as Sandra walked back from the cockpit.

Sandra smiled at Sam. “Excuse me for interrupting, Mr. Fargo. We’ve received clearance for takeoff.”

“Hold up a sec,” Sam said, then looked at Bree. “Is it possible your cousin was talking about the Money Pit at Oak Island?”

“It could have been. It was hard to understand her.”

“What do you think, Remi?” Sam asked.

“Nova Scotia?” She wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery, but she was worried about Bree’s well-being. “Only if Bree is up to the trip.”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

He turned to Sandra. “Inform the pilots we’ll need a change in flight plans. Halifax International. We’ll arrange to get Bree home from there.”

“Very good.”

When she left, Bree said, “What if they’re still out there? I’m not even sure I want to go home.”

Remi gave her a sympathetic smile. “You can stay at our place in La Jolla until this is all over.”

“Trust me,” Sam said. “That house is a fortress. You’ll be safe there.”

Bree shook her head. “I can’t possibly impose—”

“You won’t be,” Remi replied. “Between you and Selma, we may very well get to the bottom of this mystery. Speaking of, Larayne was saying you knew more about the history of this book…?”

“A bit. I know that Uncle Gerald bought it during an estate sale from a distant cousin on my father’s side. The so-called family history that was guarded by the male line of the Marshal family since the time of King John.” She gave a cynical laugh. “Of course, that can’t possibly be true because the book was written in the late seventeen hundreds. And, really, a book on pirates and privateers being passed down from generation to generation?”

“Unless,” Remi asked Bree, “the value had something to do with this key everyone seems so interested in?”

“Even that is historically questionable. After all, the key is to the maps in the book, maps that are related to pirates and privateers who came several centuries after King John. So you see, I don’t know how that could help much.”

Remi smiled at her. “An interesting history nonetheless.”

“You both have been so nice to me. After everything that’s happened—” She stopped, tried to smile, then broke down in tears.

Remi waved at Sam to vacate his seat. Sliding out, she walked over to Bree, put her arms around the girl, then drew her from the table. “Maybe you’d like to wash up, then lie down for a bit? A good nap might be just the thing. There’s plenty of time to go over this later.”

Bree nodded. “Yes. I’d like that.”