Crown's Vengeance, The (35 page)

“What is it?”

“There is no man left alive who knows of this map, Anne, for I’ve killed them all. Do you recall when I sailed with Teach on
The Queen Anne’s Revenge
?”

It was not well known that Calico had spent several months aboard Edward Teach’s ship. Edward Teach was the only man Calico had ever considered his equal. Killed soon after Calico left Teach’s crew, Anne’s husband had rarely spoken of his time with the notorious killer.

“Of course.”

His voice lowered as he brushed his lips against her cheek.

“When we sailed together, we captured two treasures. This map”-he tapped the scroll concealed within her ample bosom-“leads to them both.”

“Come with me,” she whispered. “Escape from here tonight. We can overpower the guards and we’ll run far away from this wretched island.” Even as she spoke, Anne knew it was impossible.

“If only, my love. Have you a hundred pistols to battle the men outside? Even a single shot? My time has come. Now you must live, and take care of our children.” His rough hand gently stroked her stomach. “Take the map, and when the time is right, gather trusted men and retrieve the treasure. Once Teach and I hid our bounty, we parted ways, and he soon died in battle.”

Which meant she would soon be the only person alive who knew where it lay.

“Use this to care for our family.”

The guard rapped on his cell bars, shattering the moment.

“Be strong, Anne.”

She had fiercely embraced him, then walked quickly through the gate. Her hand touched the leather map tucked in her cloak as she walked, still warm from his strong hand.

Now, Anne shook her head, not wanting to relive that painful parting. From her spot at the crowd’s rear, she could barely see the tops of Calico’s black boots. Without warning, his entire body dropped from view.

The rope snapped taught as a gasp rose from the crowd.

A lifeless body swayed in the air.

Without a word, Anne turned and walked quickly away, gripping her son’s hand tightly.

Chapter 1

Central Pennsylvania

Present Day

The wispy clouds overhead offered little shade on the steamy summer day. Hot air smothered the scalding pavement, the dull green trees on both sides of the four-lane expressway withering under an intense sun. Late in the morning, rush hour was just ending, though the Pennsylvania Turnpike would soon be clogged with cars for this Fourth of July weekend.

East of Harrisburg, a dull whine slipped through the air, the high-pitched squeal of five hundred horses compacted into a square meter of German steel bursting at the seams. A gunmetal gray metallic hood covered a small power plant that enabled the Porsche 997 Turbo to easily reach speeds in excess of a hundred miles per hour.

Tucked into the oxblood red leather driver’s seat, Parker Chase had one hand on the steering wheel and one on the shifter, clicking through the six gears his new toy had to offer.

Five weeks ago, Parker Chase would have had no business in an exotic car dealership. He’d been a modestly successful investment banker, brokering deals for other people who drove vehicles like this. But one chaotic month later, he’d been able to found his own firm with private capital he’d provided.

Fifty million dollars of capital, to be precise.

The money had originally belonged to an assassin for hire. The story of how Parker gained control of the cash he kept to himself. Suffice to say the guy didn’t need it anymore.

Parker’s fledgling investment business was based in his hometown of Pittsburgh, in a downtown office that had three phones, two computers, and one chair. His desk was an old card table. Spartan was an understatement, and he loved it. Newfound appreciation of professional independence aside, he was now headed to Philadelphia in search of a second office, closer to the big boys in New York. A small-time operation like his wouldn’t get enough exposure to attract serious investors without a foothold in a major metropolitan area.

And it didn’t hurt that his girlfriend lived in Philadelphia.

The iPhone on his dash lit up. Speak of the devil. It was Erika.

“Hey, babes.”

“Any speeding tickets yet?”

“No, but I still have a hundred miles to go. This thing is awesome.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying your ludicrously over-priced vehicle. I hope someone scratches the paint tonight.”

“Not funny. Are you still at the office?”

“I’m still here. The speech I’m giving tomorrow is almost finished, so I should be home around the time you get there.”

“No one’s going to come to your presentation anyway. Cut out of there now and pick up some cheesesteaks for us on your way home.”

“Sometimes I don’t know why I put up with you. Do you realize that four hundred people have signed up for my session? People are flying in from all over the country. I had to get approval to move to the auditorium.”

Erika had been contacted by a staff member at Hamilton Grange National Memorial, the preserved home of Alexander Hamilton. A construction worker had stumbled across several ancient but well-preserved storage chests behind a wall in the library. The Memorial staff thought Erika might be interested in the contents, and while digging through the materials, Erika found a map.

“Why do all these nerds care so much about a few old pieces of paper?”

If there was one thing Parker loved, it was giving Erika a hard time. She may have been a respected professor of history at an Ivy League institution, but that only encouraged him.

“Dim-witted though you may be, I hope you appreciate the historical import of what we’re talking about. The map is from Alexander Hamilton’s library, and it’s an amazing piece of history.”

“You can’t seem to get away from that guy.”

Earlier this year, a separate set of artifacts with ties to the illustrious patriot had come into her possession. The results of this find had led to one of the more interesting experiences of her life, in which Parker had played a vital role.

“This map was found in an entirely different location, and if you’d listen for a second, I could explain.”

“By all means, continue,” Parker replied.

“Hamilton was born in the West Indies, and in that era, the 1750s, Saint Kitts and Nevis were hotbeds for pirates. It was the Golden Age of Piracy. This map is a valuable artifact.”

That got his attention. Parker had been so busy lately with his business that he’d not asked what this presentation was all about. He just knew that she’d been working day and night to prepare her speech for tomorrow.

“So you’re telling me that the first Secretary of the Treasury was linked to piracy?”

“I never said that, but it makes you wonder. Hamilton visited the area frequently in retirement, maintaining ties to the community until his death.”

“And you think that somewhere along the line he picked up this map?”

“It certainly makes sense.”

Pistons whined as Parker accelerated around a driver doing sixty in the fast line, oblivious to the world, cell phone pressed to her ear.

“What’s the map look like anyway? I’m guessing a big
X
doesn’t mark the spot or else you’d be on a plane with your shovel.”

“No,
X
doesn’t mark the spot. The focus of this map is an underdeveloped section of North Carolina coastline. It’s just east of the Croatan National Forest near the town of Beaufort.”

That didn’t sound very exotic.

“So what’s the big deal about a map of the coast?”

Hostility crept into her voice. “Other than the fact this map belonged to one of our nation’s founding fathers, there’s also a phrase written in one corner that appears to contain directions of some sort.”

A vague explanation if he’d ever heard one.

“What exactly does it say?”

“Come to the presentation and find out.”

How very like her.

“You’re impossible. See you in an hour.”

He clicked off and lowered the windows, air blasting his face. He’d met Erika his freshman year of college, when both were on athletic scholarships. For most of the past decade they’d been together, and he knew her better than anyone else alive. She’d been there for him through the deaths of his father and uncle. Parker’s father had died in a hunting accident, and his uncle murdered shortly thereafter.

His uncle Joe had been Erika’s mentor at Penn, where he was a renowned researcher. Under his guidance, Erika had blossomed into a formidable faculty member in her own right.

A cloud of despair slid across his sun-drenched face. It was still hard to believe Joe was gone.

As his new car ate up the miles, Parker forced himself to think about the only positive thing that had come from the fiasco: his reunion with Erika. They’d been broken up at the time, but when Joe died and Parker suddenly found himself the sole living member of the Chase family, she’d been there in his time of need. That had been less than a year ago, and they’d been going strong ever since.

Erika lived in Philadelphia, across the Schuylkill River from her office at the University of Pennsylvania. Though it certainly wasn’t home, Parker had a soft spot for the city of brotherly love, rich with history and filled with a vibrant sense of life. As much as he enjoyed his freedom, he realized that eventually he would have to make a serious commitment to Erika. Even still, he doubted she would be willing to give up her dream job at Penn to move west with him. How could he blame her? She was on the verge of tenure, had access to world-class research facilities, and was well respected within the university.

It was all enough to send him running for the nearest barstool. Still, he was excited to see her.

Precision-crafted metal gears slipped into place as he punched the gas to send his new ride rocketing down the highway, the thrill of speed tingling in every pore.

Chapter 2

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Flowing blonde hair framed her tan skin, high cheekbones sloping to dimpled cheeks. Sparkling blue eyes flecked with gold studied the mirror, checking for errant bits of spinach.

Erika Carr was a beautiful woman, not in small part because she had no idea this was the case.

Satisfied, she turned and marched toward her office door.

“Are you honestly not going to tell me what it says? You’re unreal.”

Parker trailed behind her, complaining all the way. She thought he would have figured out by now that the more he let on something bothered him, the more she’d do her best to make it worse.

“I reserved you a front row seat for the conference. You’ll have no problem hearing what I say, just like everyone else in the auditorium.”

Muted grumbling was her thanks as Erika walked out into hot summer air. The crisp white dress she’d chosen for this speech flitted on a sparse breeze. She loved the heat, the chirping birds, loved everything about summer.

What she enjoyed most of all about this time of year, however, was the peace and quiet on campus. Only a handful of students were visible on the spacious lawn, most off to summer internships or back home for the summer. She could actually hear birds chirping, though the effect was somewhat spoiled by blaring car horns.

Hundreds of people were gathered outside of Irvine Auditorium. As a rising star in the academic community, Dr. Erika Carr’s presentations were always well attended. In constructing the announcement for this particular talk, she’d highlighted the possible connection between Hamilton’s map and the notorious pirates who’d terrorized that Atlantic seaboard. It hadn’t been long before word spread and the event was sold out.

Parker’s eyebrows shot up when he saw the crowd.  “Did you tell these people there was an open bar or something?”

“Very funny. Go take your seat and be quiet while I’m talking. You’ll learn something.”

Erika left him behind and headed to a side door, a folder tucked under her arm. Inside it was a copy of the speech that would be published on the Discovery Channel’s website that evening. One of her colleagues was a regular contributor to the channel, and after a few phone calls, a Discovery rep had called and offered to share her find with the world.

It seemed that pirates were back in fashion these days, thanks to Johnny Depp, and the Discovery staff thought it would be a great idea to highlight this research angle on their website. Frankly, Erika didn’t care why her work was being distributed: she was just happy that someone had decided factual research was worth talking about rather than the latest Hollywood version of history.

The ever-present noise that accompanied city life disappeared. Cool air tickled her bare legs as Erika marched through the back of the auditorium performance area, past an array of musical instruments, and, after nearly toppling a tuba, found herself onstage, the curtain already open.

The auditorium’s lower level was nearly full, and attendees continued to stream down the aisles.

I hope they aren’t just after buried treasure.

Truth be told, she highly doubted Alexander Hamilton was involved with piracy in any way, but if it encouraged people to talk about history, why not?

It was challenging enough to get non-academics interested in her work, so Erika ran with the idea. Mention that pirates might be involved, and people were hooked, visions of the skull and crossbones drawing them like sharks to chum.

Combine the mysterious lines scribbled on Hamilton’s map with Blackbeard, and Erika had crafted herself a surefire way to get butts in seats. Which directly served her ulterior purpose of educating the owners of said rumps on the history of America.

“Good morning, Dr. Carr. You look radiant, as always.”

The head of Penn’s theatrical department glided in from behind her, his canary yellow bow tie shouting from the rooftops that this man was a lover of the arts who couldn’t be bothered with such mundane issues as good taste. Wise eyes twinkled beneath a wild shock of graying hair, which would have reached his shoulders if gravity ever won the battle.

“Dr. Bowes, you’re too kind. Again, thank you for allowing me to use this wonderful facility today.”