Booty Bones: A Sarah Booth Delaney Mystery (33 page)

“What does that mean?” Randy asked.

“We need to be at the old fort at sunrise with the telescope.” I wasn’t certain what that would yield, but I had no doubt the words of the prisoner Armand Couteau had been left for LuAnn. He knew she would understand. He’d wanted her to claim the treasure, except she was as much a prisoner as he was.

“Do you think we’ll find the treasure?” Tinkie asked. “Is there really a treasure?”

“I think someone is afraid we’ll find it. Angela, who else knew you’d taken the telescope?”

“I didn’t tell anyone, but the assumption by all involved was that I stole it.”

“The correct assumption.” Randy was slightly peeved. “Dammit, Angela. I can’t just ignore this. I never took you for a lawbreaker.”

“And I never took you for a toadie.” Angela was hot.

“Stop it, you two. We’ll worry about the telescope when the storm is over and we’re safe. So who else knew about the theft?”

“Prevatt,” Angela said.

“He’s a skunk,” Tinkie said. “He’s probably in this up to his eyebrows.

I didn’t disagree, but while he was a skunk, he wasn’t a brainy skunk. There was a partner—one who was diabolical enough to plot a devious crime.

“Who else?”

“Snill, Phyllis—”

“And the sheriff,” Randy interrupted. “He knew, and he sent me to check it out. Mobile isn’t even my beat.”

That was the final straw. Benson had set Randy up by saddling him with a murder investigation when he wasn’t a detective, and he’d sent the patrolman to investigate robberies outside his beat. “Benson is involved. Which means we may be confronting law enforcement officials any minute. And there’s no way to tell how they’ll react to whatever Benson told them.”

“The sheriff fooled me. I’m sure he has others duped.” Randy was glum. “If they’re waiting for us to disembark, they’ll swarm us as soon as we’re on the dock. That’s our weakest point. We’ll all be huddled together. They don’t know if we’re armed or not.”

“Which means they might shoot us.” Tinkie wasn’t kidding.

“She’s right.” Randy rubbed his chin. “If the sheriff has made them believe we’re armed and dangerous…”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. And I had to get to the dock. What had they done to Sweetie and Pluto? I knew the consensus was going to be against me, but I had to take action. “I’m going to jump to the dock.”

“No, Sarah Booth!” Tinkie had her stubborn face on. “You are doing no such thing. Let Randy go. He’s a sheriff’s deputy. He stands a better chance than any of us.”

Randy started toward the door. “I’ll do it. She’s right.”

“And if they shoot you dead, they’ll figure out how to frame us for it.” With the highest law official in the county involved, he could make almost anything happen and report it as he saw fit. We were in a definite pickle.

The boat made a radical shift. We grabbed at whatever we could to keep from being pitched to the floor.

“Shit,” Angela said. “We don’t have a choice. We have to get off this boat.”

“Then we’ll all go.” Tinkie intended to stop me from trying it on my own.

We crept up to the deck and stopped dead. In the short space of time we’d been belowdecks, we’d been swallowed by wind and rain.

25

The howl of the wind obliterated all other noises, and the rain lashed my face so harshly I had to throw up an arm to protect my eyes. The boat rose at least eight feet on a swell and then plunged to the bottom. My stomach flipped a dozen times. I stumbled across the deck and grabbed a rope circling the mast. We were all going to be pitched over the side of the boat.

Before anyone could stop him, Chavis leaped over the boat railing. To my utter amazement, he made it to the dock, which was vaguely visible as a darker outline in the storm. Wind-driven rain blasted into our faces with the force of nails. We had to turn away.

“Dammit it all to hell!” There was no way to see if he’d made it safely up the dock or been swept away by the waves crashing over the slick boards. Or predict what he would do once he made it to the marina. Randy Chavis was a wild card. He’d seemed to be on Angela’s side at the end, but there were no guarantees he’d shown his true colors.

And no way to calculate how badly he could damage us.

He could tell Benson we were all on board the boat without weapons. Sitting ducks for whatever plot the sheriff decided to unfold.

And I still didn’t know if my dog and cat were safe. Worry for my pets made me anxious. I didn’t feel so self-satisfied and smug about failing to tell Graf what I was doing on Dauphin Island. He was the only person who might come looking for us, but I’d pretty much kiboshed that possibility.

A tug on my sleeve made me duck below as I followed Tinkie. While I hated being imprisoned in the dark boat, she was right. Rain was coming down like the sky had no bottom.

Angela slammed the hatch shut, and the noise of the storm lessened, though the swaying of the boat made me queasy. To top it off, my teeth were chattering so hard they sounded like castanets. I was soaked, freezing, and nauseated. My equilibrium was taking a beating as the boat lurched again. My stomach roiled, and I fought seasickness.

“Just think, if we had some tequila, some cosmetics, and some light, maybe a little calm weather, and some gourmet snacks, we could play beautician. Sarah Booth desperately needs a makeover, and, Angela, I could update your drowned-rat look.”

Tinkie’s silly comment snapped the tension and gave us all a chance to catch a second wind.

“We need a gun.” Angela was far from defeated. “If they’re out there with the intention of killing us, I’d like to get a few shots off first.”

“Do you have a gun?” I was a good shot, but Tinkie was Dead-Eye Pete.

Angela shook her head. “Dad never believed in guns. I urged him to get one out here in the marina, but he never would. He said he drank too much, and he was afraid he’d shoot himself. Ironic, right?”

“Yeah, ironic.” I felt like a rat in a tunnel with a big hungry cat waiting for me to poke my head out.

Tinkie stepped up to raise our flagging spirits. “Sarah Booth and I have been in much worse places. I concede, we’ve seldom looked this bad, but we’ve been in more danger. Tell me, though, do you think Randy will betray us?” It was the question on all of our minds.

“I don’t know.” Angela pushed her damp hair from her face. “I misread Randy. I never even gave him the shadow of a doubt. I don’t know what he’ll do. I only wish I could get you two off the island and safely away. People have been hurt because of me. Now you two are in this mess and your dog and cat are wandering out in a hurricane.”

“Don’t hog all the credit. Sarah Booth and I are capable of getting into trouble a lot deeper than this on our own.” Tinkie’s words held no sting. “How much longer can this storm last?”

“Maybe two hours. It was moving at a really fast clip. When it gets calm, that’s the eye. Once that passes, it will rain and blow again. That’s the tail of the storm.”

Angela spoke as if she’d weathered more than a few hurricanes. “So it won’t get any worse than this?” I asked.

“If we’re lucky.”

There was enough doubt in her voice to keep me from getting too hopeful. “Can Sweetie and Pluto survive this out in the open?”

“They’ll find shelter. There are plenty of places around the marina for them to duck into cover, and this is going to be a really small storm.”

That made me feel a little better. Maybe it was my imagination, but the storm did seem to be lessening. And I’d always heard that the back end wasn’t as fierce as the leading edge. Maybe the worst was behind us.

“Do you think Renault is in collusion with the sheriff?” I told Angela about the motorboat Arley had heard the night her father was shot. “I think Renault may be the killer. I know he stole that painting. The question is, did he steal it after he killed your dad or before.”

“He was always jealous of Dad. Jealous and lazy. He would sneak over here when Dad was gone to the store and poke around. Dad caught him a couple of times and warned him, but Remy would sneak back.”

“There’s something I don’t understand. What did John’s death accomplish?” Tinkie asked. “No one has been able to recover the treasure.”

I saw where Tinkie was coming from. “Maybe they weren’t after the treasure. Maybe they were determined to stop John from finding it.”

“It was after the telescope went missing that my latest troubles started,” Angela said. “Maybe you’re onto something.”

“Actually, it was after you talked to me about looking into your dad’s murder.”

The wind picked up again, and I thought I felt a small shift. But that wasn’t possible. We were tightly strung between heavy-duty pilings. We should ride out the storm in relative safety.

“So is it the investigation into your father’s murder or the possibility of finding the treasure that’s at the root of these attacks against Angela, and how does that tie into framing Wofford for a murder he didn’t commit?” I asked.

“We don’t have enough evidence to support any of the theories exclusively.” Tinkie was better at adding up the facts than anyone I knew.

“How do we get more evidence?” I asked.

“We could catch Benson and torture him until he talks.” Tinkie was only half-kidding. After the week we’d had, she was game for using the Taser a bit or possibly waxing sensitive body areas. Nothing that would permanently maim a body, yet something that would be certain to elicit a wagging tongue and a bit of screaming.

“As soon as the storm is over, we can confront Prevatt and make him squeal.” Tinkie was looking forward to that possibility. The snippy little museum curator had gotten under her skin. “He knows more than he’s telling. He had the telescope all of those years and kept it locked away in a case. Not until—”

I put it together. “Not until I found that map at the old fort. I sent a photo to Cece.”

“Can the sheriff intercept phone messages?” Tinkie asked Angela.

“They can tap your cell phone. Or get to your phone records. I suppose a text with an image attached would be easy to get.”

“Shit.” Tinkie was grim. “That’s how they knew. The map. When you stole the telescope, they figured you knew how to find the treasure.” Tinkie paced the narrow hall.

At last I was keeping up. “So the map at Fort Gaines does show how to locate the treasure.”

“It’s part of how we’ll find it.”

“The map, painting of Dad’s, and the spyglass of Armand Couteau. It’s just like I thought. Armand could see the beach from the window of his prison before he died.”

“You believe the treasure is real?” Angela asked.

“I believe at one time it was. And I think your father figured this out. He believed it was real, and whoever killed him did, too.”

“Then whoever killed him likely took the treasure already.” Tinkie was the pragmatist in the group.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “If that were the case, no one would be messing with Angela now. She wouldn’t be a threat. There would have been no need to send Wofford to prison or kill your father.”

“You really believe there is a treasure and we might find it?” Angela asked.

“I do.” I dared a look at Tinkie.

“Me too,” she said. “At first I thought it was a bunch of malarkey, but after all of this, there has to be a solid motivation behind the actions. Money is always a good place to start.”

“Dad wasn’t the kind of man people wanted to hurt. It has to be money.” Angela slumped down onto the steps. “I would give all of it away for a week with my father.”

Tinkie sat beside her and patted her back. She was always the first one to offer sympathy or comfort, but Angela’s words pierced my heart. I knew exactly how she felt.

As we sat in the galley, a strange calm settled over the boat.

“It’s the eye. Let’s get on land.” Angela reached up and opened the hatch. For the first time in what seemed an eternity, there was no rain. And no wind. We inched up onto the deck.

The sky was leaden, and the clouds roiled, but we were in the midst of an eerie calm. No seagulls cried for scraps, and the normal sounds of motorboats pulling in and taking off were gone. It was as if all living creatures had been wiped from the planet.

“How long will the eye be over us?” Tinkie was the last out of the hatch, and she looked around with distrust.

“The eye was very small. It’s not a big window of time. Let’s jump to the deck and get out of here.”

“Good plan.” I scanned the dock. Tinkie’s red car was easy to spot now that the torrential rains had stopped. There was no sign of my dog and cat, though.

“I’ll jump first and pull the boat closer to the pier,” Angela offered.

She was about to act on her words when we saw two people coming down the pier toward us. It took a moment to recognize Arley and the sheriff. I clutched Tinkie’s shoulder. We both grabbed Angela before she could make the jump.

“Where’s the spyglass?” Benson called out to us. “I think you’ll want to give it to me.”

“Why should we?” I had a lot of bravado, which vaporized when he pulled the gun from Arley’s back and pointed it at us.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll shoot Arley first and then you. Maybe in the leg, if my aim is good. Maybe in the heart. I only need one of you alive to tell me where to find that damn telescope. I’ve spent way too much effort trying to recover it.”

“There’s no treasure,” Tinkie said. “It was a story John Trotter told everyone. It isn’t true.”

“I’ll say one thing for you ladies. You don’t give up easily. There is a treasure. John knew it, and I know it. John couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and he told too many people how he had found the treasure and was on the verge of bringing it up. He’d made arrangements with a salvage company to haul it from the bottom. All he needed to find the exact location was that damn telescope. Now where is it? I’m not going to ask again. I’m just going to start shooting. Arley here will be the first.”

“Angela, give it to him. He will hurt you.” Arley didn’t attempt to move as he spoke. “Benson, you’ll never get by with this. Why are you even doing it? Everyone on the island knows this was John’s treasure. If you try to claim it, folks are going to start asking a lot of questions you don’t want to answer.”