Beloved Captive (26 page)

“Are we keeping accounts now?” He winked. “Then I will have to start paying closer attention. I find you occupy my thoughts far more than you ought. I’m thinking of charging you for the space.”

Before she could respond, he turned to leave.

Chapter 27

In the two days since Caleb Spencer had arrived anonymously on Fairweather Key, he’d found it hard to keep his identity a secret without resorting to outright lying. The proprietor of the boardinghouse, a portly woman of great humor and culinary talents, alternated between feeding him and attempting to identify him.

After working so hard to arrive without fanfare in order to better learn about the island he would be governing, Caleb’s careful plans had nearly been unraveled with one accidental encounter. That he’d been caught surveying the shack that substituted for a schoolhouse nearly undid him. Had the woman not fled, he might have had to offer up an explanation for the early morning visit.
 

As far as he could tell, she’d only seen him from behind, so his face would not be known to her. The fact that he’d chosen a nondescript outfit rather than full naval uniform also worked to his advantage.

Last night’s wreck had nearly caused him to admit his identity, such was his interest in watching the process of salvaging the great ship
Vindication
. The fellow at the mercantile let slip that he’d heard the
Vindication
had a less than illustrious history, first as a slaver and then upon its capture in the waters near Havana as a pirate vessel.
 

Caleb had been anxious to validate this information, though he’d thus far found no way to ask further questions without arousing suspicion. It was enough to be a stranger in a small village with no visible reason for being there without calling further attention to oneself by inquiring too deeply into anything.

He’d seen the docks where the wreckers and fishermen kept their vessels and the larger quay where oceangoing vessels made port and unloaded their cargo and the mail schooner did its weekly business. In addition to the mercantile, visits had been paid to the barber, the auction house, the tiny but serviceable livery, and the carpentry shop where fine furniture sat next to orders for boat fittings and replacement pieces for gaps in the town’s notoriously ill-repaired wooden sidewalks.

The only two places he could not easily investigate were, for obvious reasons, the doctor’s office and the funeral parlor. With this visit to the courthouse, his tour of the island would be complete.
 

Caleb had saved this important venue for last, knowing he would be forced to admit his identity to the outgoing judge in order to gain the information he sought. Considering and discarding the idea of making an appointment, he decided a direct approach and a surprise arrival would be the best means of handling a man whose reputation was known all the way to Washington.

Even those who had heard of Judge Campbell’s fiery temperament and penchant for using the jail as his own personal rooming house for unwanted visitors had to admire his ability to earn money from the lucrative wrecking industry.

His was far and away the most profitable island of its size in all of the keys. To be sent to follow him was a daunting task, one Caleb was more than ready to assume.

The idea of doing even better than the old judge filled Caleb with anticipation, while the idea of showing Admiral Griffin he’d not sent Caleb to exile but rather to flourish made him smile.

He made his way past the kitchen where Mrs. Campbell worked with her back to the door. He’d nearly reached the exit when he heard her cheery good-bye. Responding in kind, Caleb rushed out onto the street and turned toward the courthouse square before the persistent woman chased him down.

He found the building easily enough, having been told by the dockhands upon his arrival that the judge, jail, and courthouse were situated in the same spot in the shadows of the great Fairweather Key warehouses.

Inside the nondescript wooden buildings was the bounty salvaged from last night’s wreck as well as others awaiting visits from insurance men or auctioneers. Fortunes would be made by ship owners smart enough to purchase insurance for their vessel and cargo, while lesser monies would be doled out to the men who risked their lives to save the trinkets and baubles that would never see their original destination.

Always the first funds were paid to the judge, who then added them to coffers already bulging with the labor of the wreckers. This he knew from the reports turned in by Judge Campbell, the man he now intended to see.

While the massive warehouses held treasure, the squat structure nearby housed something even more important: the office where Caleb would take on his first judgeship.

He took the steps two at a time and swung the door open to find the judge was not alone. “Come on in,” Judge Campbell called before Caleb could excuse himself. “Mr. Tate and I were just finishing up our business. He’s the master on last evening’s wreck.”

A lanky redhead rose to offer Caleb a surprisingly strong hand-shake. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. . . ?”

“Spencer.” Caleb noted the lack of surprise on the judge’s face and wondered if the old man had figured out who he was before now. “Congratulations,” Caleb said. “Master on a wreck like the
Vindication
is quite an accomplishment.”

“Nah, it just means I’ve got the fastest boat.” He gave Caleb a hard look. “Spencer, you say? Is that your first or your last?”
 

“Last. First name’s Caleb. Caleb Spencer.”

The wrecker’s expression softened, barely. “You passing through or staying awhile?”

“I’m staying,” Caleb said, “which is why I’m paying this visit to the judge.” He gestured toward Judge Campbell. “I can come back if it’s more convenient.”

“No,” Mr. Tate said. “I need to be going anyway. I promised a lady I’d come back and be sure she was safe.”

Judge Campbell frowned. “What’s going on, Micah?”

He shrugged. “Emilie saw some fellow nosing around the schoolhouse this morning who she didn’t recognize. Came running after me, and we looked but couldn’t find him. I told her I’d come check back with her to see that she and the children weren’t being bothered.”

Now was his chance to speak up. Caleb shrugged. “I fear the man you’re looking for is me.”

Both men stared at him as if he’d grown an extra ear. The redhead moved an inch closer. “I don’t reckon I understand why a man would be nosing around and scaring women when the sun’s barely up, but I intend to wait right here until you tell me why.”

Had he not the skills to best this man without breaking a sweat, Caleb might have been concerned for his own safety. Rather, he drew out a deep breath and put on his most contrite look.

“Purely accidental, I promise. I followed the road up thinking I would find the island’s highest vantage point. The better to get the lay of the land, as it were.”
 

The wrecker didn’t budge. “That explains how you got there, but it doesn’t tell me what business you had scaring my Emilie.”

“Your Emilie?” The judge snickered. “Since when?”

“Hush,” he said. “I want to hear what this man’s got to say for himself. If he can’t explain why he was scaring an innocent schoolteacher, then I plan to swear out a warrant to have him arrested.”

“On what grounds?” Judge Campbell asked.
 

“I’ll think of something,” came the hotheaded wrecker’s response.

“Gentlemen,” Caleb said. “There’s a simple explanation. I did not intend to frighten anyone. This woman—”

“Emilie,” Micah Tate supplied.

“Emilie. Yes, well, she came upon me while I was enjoying the view of the ocean. I did not hear her approach and only heard her leave when she screamed. Thinking there might be something wrong with her, I turned to follow. She ran so fast I decided she was perfectly healthy and merely skittish.”

“Skittish?” Tate’s face was close to matching his hair. “You’d be skittish too if you expected to be alone but came upon some stranger at your schoolhouse.”

It was a stretch, but Caleb supposed he could imagine the scenario. “Then I owe your Emilie an apology.”

Obviously, the wrecker had no idea what to do with such a statement. He stared for a moment, then jammed his hat back on his head and looked toward the judge. “He seems like he’s all right, Judge Campbell, but I want to reserve the right to have him jailed if I find out he’s making any of this up.”

“Fair enough,” Judge Campbell said.

Micah turned to address Caleb. “The children go home for lunch from eleven to one. I’ll have Emilie back up here in Judge Campbell’s office by eleven fifteen.” He leaned forward with what appeared to be the intention of frightening Caleb.

It failed.

Miserably.

But recognizing this was a man in love, and obviously a man who needed his pride soothed, Caleb made to inch back a notch. “Eleven fifteen,” he said and tipped his hat.

The wrecker stormed past without returning the gesture. When he’d gone, Caleb turned his attention to the old judge. “Are all of them like that one?”

“No more than all judges are like me,” he said evenly. “That’s who you are, isn’t it?”

“You’ve caught me.” Caleb gestured to the chair nearest the judge’s cluttered desk. “May I?”

He nodded.

“Last I heard, they couldn’t find anyone to take my job.” He walked around the desk and landed heavily in an ornately carved chair and stared at Caleb. “So,” he finally said, “did you lose a bet?”

“I beg your pardon?”

The judge grinned. “Nah, I don’t figure you for a betting man.” He gave Caleb another long look. “Somebody’s daughter?”

The question hit its mark. Still, Caleb made an attempt to deflect the intention. “I’m a legal man who ended up with a navy department position. I couldn’t pass up a chance to return to my judicial roots.”

The judge cocked his head to one side and peered at Caleb from beneath gray brows in need of a good trim. “It was somebody’s daughter, wasn’t it?”

“Sir, why can’t you believe I would be here only because I want this judgeship?”

The old man leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “Son, nobody wants to come to Fairweather Key, especially not some hotshot lawyer type with career plans.”

Caleb decided to take the high road. He also decided this man’s poor reputation was well earned. “I wish to see your records and your warehouse, the warehouse first. And,” he paused to intentionally speak in the most casual voice possible, “we’ll start with last night’s wreck.”

Judge Campbell paused a moment before nodding. “It’s still being catalogued,” he said, “and witnesses are being kept at the boardinghouse and in several locations around town.”

“I see. And what of the captain of the vessel?” he said, again keeping his interest level as professional as possible. “I would like to interview him first so as to better know what questions to ask the others.”

“Well, that’s the million-dollar question.” Judge Campbell gathered up a sheath of papers and handed them to Caleb. “When that ship went aground, he and his crew either bailed off her and skedaddled before the wreckers showed, or he wasn’t on her to begin with.”
 

“What do you mean?”

“How much do you know about sailing, son?”

Caleb’s breath caught but he recovered quickly. “I know some,” he said. “Why?”

The judge rose and Caleb followed suit, tucking the papers under his arm. “We had a good rain last night,” he said, “but the seas weren’t the worst we’d seen by any stretch of the imagination. It was a new moon, so there’s a case to be made that they just weren’t familiar enough with our waters to keep off the reef.”

“Understandable.”

“Yes, but here’s what’s not understandable.” He pointed a gnarled finger at Caleb. “That ship was full of treasure. Loaded down with it, which was why it ran aground and stuck. Thing is, it was all up in a subfloor that nobody would have found had it not been wrecked. Why an experienced captain with something to hide would be sailing his vessel so close to me and my jail doesn’t make sense.” He gestured to the door. “Walk while we talk, Spencer.”

Caleb nodded and joined the judge on the porch.
 

“Warehouse is this way,” he said as he headed down the stairs. “Now back to the treasure from the
Vindication
. We see all kinds come through the auction house after they’ve been wrecked. Pirates, privateers, merchantmen, mail boats.” He turned the corner, and Caleb followed. “Never in all my years have I seen a vessel so full that gold bars were used alongside the ballast.”

“Gold bars?” Caleb shook his head. “Where would a slaver get treasure like that?”

Judge Campbell stopped short and turned to face Caleb. “How’d you know the
Vindication
used to be a slaver?”

“Just doing my job, sir,” he said. “I asked a few questions.”

“Well, whoever told you that was right. She’s a slaver that someone converted to a treasure carrier.” He paused to pull a small ring of keys from his pocket. “Only one kind of ship carries that, and only one kind of captain hides his cargo between floors.”

“A pirate,” Caleb supplied.

“Indeed.” The judge stared a moment, then proceeded toward the first warehouse door. “And one who either hit it big with one strike or kept at it awhile. You hear anything else about that ship?”

“Nothing else about the ship,” he answered truthfully as he followed the judge.

He stabbed the key into the lock and easily opened the door. Caleb stepped into a darkened space that smelled of seawater and dampness. Slender streams of sunlight pierced the walls where the chinking and weathering had failed. Otherwise, the vast room was plunged into inky darkness.

“Give me a second,” the judge said, “and I’ll get the lamps going.”

Caleb waited in the dark while he heard the judge fumbling around. In a moment, Judge Campbell’s lamp flamed, and a circle of orange light filled one corner of the enormous space. He lit another and handed it to Caleb.

Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Caleb faced an amazing sight. Row upon row of items had been neatly stacked in lines that disappeared into the darkness. Upon each item was a tag indicating the name of the vessel and the date it was declared unsalvageable.