The Old Cape Teapot (26 page)

After entering the first room on his left, he could see a large bed
with two dressers. He straightened his shoulders and felt more confident. His phone showed no text from the General. A careful search through the drawers found nothing. He got on his knees to
look under the bed. As he was about to leave for the next room, he noticed the
closet door was open so he peeked inside. On the floor, beneath the clothes, was a small gray safe with a key dangling from its handle. Inside were some folded papers, a broken piece of pottery, and a small filled pouch. The little black bag felt heavy in the palm of his
trembling hand. With hurried movements he quietly left the same way he’d entered. The only sign of Silas’s illegal entry were the outlines of his wet boot steps left on the small tiled entry foyer floor.

***

Danny and Molly were dozing off on the ride home. Danny clutched the quarter he had happily won in the bet with his father. After pulling into the driveway, Paul carried him over his shoulder from the car. Molly held my hand as we walked up the deck. I waited for Paul to find his keys in his jacket pocket. Molly grew impatient and started to jiggle the handle of the door. It opened.

“Paul, didn’t you lock the door when we left?”

“No. I thought you did. We used the back door, remember?” He carefully stood Danny in an upright position on the deck. “Stay here for a minute. Let me check if everything’s okay.”

I watched him enter and thought of Brian on Antigua. Our son did the same thing to protect me when someone had broken into his place.

The kids and I stood still, watching the lights go on, one by one, in all the rooms, upstairs and down. Thankfully, they didn’t know why we couldn’t go inside, and I wasn’t about to tell them.

A few minutes later, Paul came out to say nothing appeared to
be disturbed. The only thing I noticed was that our wet shoes had made a mess on the foyer floor. I’d wipe it up later. We guided the kids to their bedrooms, helped them get into pajamas and brush their teeth. Then we steered them into their beds and covered each
one with their
quilts. I lingered at Danny’s bedside and watched his little chest rise and fall. If I hadn’t been so strong and healthy the night of that terrible home invasion, four years ago, he might not be here tonight.
My angel. I gently kissed his cheek.

Downstairs, I found Paul searching security companies on the internet. “Next week I’m going to call and see what we can buy for protection.”

“Okay, don’t stay up too late. I’m going to bed.” I kissed him. “Love you.”

Paul waved his hand good night.

I lay in bed thinking that we’d been lucky tonight. Nothing had
happened. Then I remembered how I felt when I was tied up, in the front parlor, while two guys dug up our backyard looking for treasure. I was pregnant with Danny for God’s sake. I could have lost him. I closed my eyes tighter, trying to rid my head of the whole
thing. It could have
been much worse, I thought. I’ve grown stronger since that night. I handled myself pretty well. Thankfully, the rest of my pregnancy with Danny proved to be very healthy. He was a beautiful baby and has grown strong. I could feel my body calming down and drifting
to sleep.

***

The next morning, the little ones woke us up around 7:30. Paul was up before me, as usual, making the coffee. My mind haunted me with the idea that someone might have entered our house again, but
I dispelled
my insecurity with an admittance of being paranoid. A security
system would be a great plan.

Paul kept the gallery closed and the day turned out to be very nice. I was happy to be thinking about the mill site, the number 3 and the letter W again. We had a great dinner of baked ham, potato salad, pickled beets, and fresh bread with a store-bought chocolate cake for dessert. Nice and easy. We were all together as a family and played board games with the kids. Then it was early to bed for Molly and Danny. After we blew the last goodnight kiss to the kids, Paul and I quickly settled in under the covers for a cozy night’s sleep.

“Paul?” I whispered.

“What, honey?”

“Tomorrow, when Martha comes, would you come with me up to that old mill site?”

He was quiet.

“Almost all of the snow is gone and it’s going to be sunny all
week.” I sat up to face him. “If we brought shovels, we could do
some exploring around the site. I could use the muscle.”

“I thought that guy Peter said not to disturb anything until he had a chance to investigate it further.”

“I know, but I have an idea about something.”

“Nancy, please don’t go crazy.”

“I won’t. I’ll be very careful. Besides, you’ll be with me.”

Paul pulled me closer.

“What could happen?” I said.

***

A few miles down the road from the Caldwell home, Nick was in the motel room studying all his notes and the images from his phone. He
had transferred them to his computer so that he could blow them up on a larger screen to check for anything that he might have missed. He spotted the W and the tiny number 3 from the second Thomas Davis
map.

His phone vibrated with an incoming text:
losing patience– you have 2 days to complete. A.D.

“Shit!” He leaned back in the chair and decided he’d better get himself up to the mill site tomorrow. The snow had melted and there shouldn’t be anyone around up there. He was running out of time.

Present Day

BREWSTER/ORLEANS

MARTHA ARRIVED EARLY
on Monday morning. Around 7:30, Paul headed towards the garage to gather shovels for our adventure.

The coffee smelled good as I filled our travel cups and grabbed a
few power bars. I hurried upstairs to take the map from the safe.
When
it was opened, I immediately saw that the pouch of silver coins was gone. I checked under our legal papers, twice. That’s odd, I thought, but wanted to get to the mill site, so I just picked up the map and
closed the safe.

Downstairs, I could see Paul was already outside. I quickly
searched
my pockets to see if I had my phone, a small notebook with a pen,
and a copy of the teapot map showing the same directions from
Tommy D’s old vellum.

“All set?” I asked as I met Paul by the Jeep. “By the way, did you take the pouch of old coins out of the safe upstairs?”

“Nope. Why?”

“It’s missing.” I opened the passenger car door and jumped in. “Do you think that Molly or Danny took it out to play with?”

“I hope not. We told them the coins weren’t toys.”

“Well, let’s get going. I’ll talk to them when they get home from school.” I climbed into the Jeep.

Paul slammed shut the rear hatch of the Wrangler and checked
his pockets for his phone and gloves. “I’ve got as much as we can
carry
into the woods.” Just as he climbed into the driver’s seat, his cell
rang. “Paul Caldwell,” he answered.

I waited, trying to sense who it was.

“Of course, I’ll be here.”

Darn it, I thought. Now what’s going on?

He closed the phone. “Nancy, I need to stay home. Remember the new client that was interested in that big acrylic?”

“Yes.”

“Well, they’re leaving for Europe and want to see it one more time before they make their decision about buying it. They’re flying out tonight.” He gave me a sorry look.

I was angry. “Can’t you be here for me just once in a while?”

“If I don’t sell, we don’t eat. We’ve been doing this for a long time. You should be used to it,” he stepped out of the Jeep and headed towards the gallery.

I yelled after him, “I guess I’m just getting tired of it.”

Over his shoulder, he said, “We’ll talk later.” He stopped and turned towards me. “You still going to go by yourself?”

“Yeah.” I got out of the Jeep and settled into the driver’s seat.
“Just thought it would’ve been nice to go together.”

He walked back towards me. “Be careful.”

By now it was almost eight o’clock and I wanted to get going. I put the gears into reverse and gave him a half-hearted smile.

Before I turned left out of the driveway, I took a sip of coffee and
adjusted my sunglasses. I’ll be fine without Paul. I almost wish he had a regular, nine-to-five job. Then he’d have more time to be with
me. Just forget it, I told myself. I’ll be fine.

After a few minutes, I was in Orleans and getting close to
Pleasant
Bay. It’s not too far, I thought, watching for the convenience store where I would park. Up ahead, on my left, I turned and parked in
the rear of the store’s lot, thinking I should be okay in the back.

As luck would have it, there was very little traffic on the road, which allowed me to cross the street with no problem. I studied the edge of the woods for the opening to the path, and remembered
there was an interesting tree right along the road that marked the opening. I spotted it in a few seconds then headed towards the old fruit tree that had twisted itself around a little maple.

Shifting the shovel in my hand for a better grip, I stepped into the woods to follow the path. Hopefully the yellow caution tape was still marking the second path to turn onto so that I could see which direction to walk in to find the mill site.

As I passed the old walk–in basement foundation I’d discovered
with Nick, the yellow caution tape came into view. I watched my footing up the sloped forest floor alongside the 8x8 foot opening. About three hundred yards ahead, the mill site’s old stones were in front of my feet. I dropped the shovel and pulled out the directions
on the teapot map.

I looked around for anyone else in the woods before I started talking to myself. It was an old habit that helped me think clearly. I read aloud,
“Follow the new road to the river of Namskaket. Travel to the
southern
ridge of where Harwich meets Eastham. The property of Baker and Sons will be marked with a stake 10 yards from the corner of the oak. Follow a
line along the Magnetic North, parallel with the Cove’s inlet.”

I checked a reading on my phone to make sure I was in the right place. “I’m standing on the southern ridge where Harwich meets Eastham.” Scanning the ridgeline, I continued, “I’m also on the Magnetic North and parallel to Pleasant Bay’s Cove. Now, where should I dig first?”

I looked closer at the map. My finger rested on the tiny drawing of the mill, then moved down to the 3W written under it. I stepped back from the stones and zeroed in on the ground to locate the stone displaying the carving of the W. After brushing leaves away from the ground’s surface I saw it about a foot in front of me. Standing up,
I looked at the stones to see the whole picture. Where does the
number 3 fit in to all of this?

Could it be three steps? Of course, that’s it! My shoe size was a good 10 inches long. If I step off and give myself an extra few inches…I walked forward, beginning with the W stone and then reached for my
shovel.

Present Day

BREWSTER - SILAS’S APARTMENT

THE COLD, DRY AIR
drifted through the old house. Silas lay still, not wanting to get off the couch where he’d been sleeping since the General moved in.

“Hey! Get up!” The General yelled from the lone bedroom. “It’s eight o’clock. I got things to do today and you’re my ride…wherever I wanna go.” He limped into the bathroom. “So get your ass up and get dressed!”

Silas muttered under his breath after the bathroom door closed, “Shut up, you fuckin’ old man.”

The General came out of the bathroom to find Silas counting the pieces of eight from the stolen pouch. “Looks like you’re still a sorry little shit, just like your father said you were. You should have looked around for more booty in the house. I would’ve warned you if anyone was coming.”

Silas shoved the gold coins back into the cloth bag. “They might be worth something.” He put the pouch in his coat pocket.

“Awww, I could’ve done better….” The General waved Silas off. “Found something valuable. Not that crap.”

Silas headed for the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

The General took his time going down the rickety outside steps that were barely attached to the dilapidated house. He carried a
large, brown, leather satchel.

Silas trailed behind him with an exasperated look on his face. “Where we goin’?”

The General said nothing.

When they finally reached the bottom, Silas quickly shoved the General aside to unlock the car. “Where we goin’?” he asked again.

The old man regained his balance, opened the car door and
ordered, “Orleans, then get onto Route 28, by Pleasant Bay.”

Silas pulled away from the back of the house and turned out of the driveway.

***

ORLEANS

After a mile and a half, the General barked, “Pull in over there. Park next to the chain-link fence.”

Silas slowed the car. A small sign on the fence read:
Orleans
Water Conservation Area
.

He turned right onto the dirt road and glanced down to check the gas gauge. “Christ, I’m almost empty. Maybe I should drive up ahead to that convenience store. Isn’t there another way to get into these woods?”

“I don’t know.” The General adjusted his eye patch. “No time to get gas now. You can get it after we’re done here.”

Silas was out of the car first. He walked over to the edge of the woods and stared into the thick mass of trees and scrub.

The old man stayed in his seat. He sneered at Silas as he pulled out a plastic garbage bag and the Smith & Wesson from his satchel.
Hiding the gun in the waistband of his jeans, he exited the car, carrying only the black garbage bag. “Hey, Silas! Carry this will ya?”