The Old Cape Teapot (29 page)

“Okay, Paul. No problem.” She glanced up from emptying the
dishwasher to look out the kitchen window. A black sedan slowly pulled into the driveway. “Someone’s here,” she called out before he
was able to close the door leading to the gallery.

Paul turned around and headed back to the glassed foyer door.
He saw two men dressed in black suits get out of the car then walk toward the deck that led to the house, avoiding the path to the gallery. He noticed the closed sign was still out and visible from the street. He opened the door with caution before they could knock on
it. “What can I do for you?”

A man with a crew cut asked, “Mr. Caldwell?”

“Yes?”

“We’re from the FBI. I’m Special Agent Clark.” He showed his ID card with badge.

Paul stood taller and stepped back but kept his hand on the
door’s handle, holding it open only half way.

“Is Mrs. Caldwell available?”

“No….” Paul’s face paled. “What’s wrong?”

“We have reason to believe that your wife may be in danger. May we come in?”

Paul swallowed hard before he let them in.

As they crossed the threshold, Martha peered out of the kitchen
to stare at the two strangers. Paul looked visibly upset. His chest
heaved up and down in short panicked breaths.

The agent with glasses asked, “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”

“Of course.” Paul led them into Nancy’s office.

Martha met her employer’s wide eyes with a questioning glance as he passed her. He ignored them and ordered her, “Stay in the kitchen, Martha.”

With only a few long strides, he reached the parlor door in
seconds.
The agents followed him in, and Paul slid the pocket door closed
behind the three of them.

Agent Clark located a picture on his cell phone and showed it to Paul. “Do you recognize this man?”

“That looks like Nick,” Paul said with alarm in his voice, “but with the black hair, I can’t really tell if it’s him or not.” He kept studying the image. “What does he have to do with the FBI and with
us?”

Clark tapped his phone closed and looked to his partner. “So that’s what he’s calling himself this time…Nick!”

Paul grew anxious, his voice rising. “What do you mean ‘this time’?” He clasped his hand over his mouth, trying to calm himself.

“Take it easy, Mr. Caldwell. We’re aware that he’s used several names over his young career, but his legal name is Quinten Sulicci. A known associate of the New England Mafia, he turned rogue and has been working on his own for a few years now.”

“What?” Paul looked startled then angry. “Tell me what’s going on…now!”

“Where was your wife going this morning?”

“Orleans. I was supposed to go with her but couldn’t.” He pulled the paper with the directions to the mill site out of his jeans pocket and handed it over. “This might help you find her. What kind
of danger is
she in?” He pulled his phone out and pressed in Nancy’s number again. He looked over to Clark. “I tried to call her before, but she didn’t pick up.” Paul’s hand was shaking as he shut the phone down
and shoved it back into his pocket. “She’s still not answering!”

Clark checked his watch. “We don’t have a lot of time to explain any more to you right now. We’re meeting Lieutenant Gale over at the Orleans police station in about twenty minutes.”

“Well, if it involves my wife, I’m coming with you.” He stood in front of the closed door in a feeble attempt to prevent the men from leaving the office if they wouldn’t agree to his tagging along. “You can’t stop me from following you in my own car.”

The two FBI men took a stance, shoulder-to-shoulder, legs
spread in anticipation for some trouble. “I’m afraid you need to stay here, Mr. Caldwell.”

There was a two second standoff before Paul slid open the pocket door, stepped aside for them to leave. He followed right behind them through the house, past Martha in the kitchen. They
went out the main door without him. He stayed inside and watched the men get into
their car and drive away. With a quick twist of his head, he gave Martha another order. “Stay here and wait for the kids to get home.
I’ll call you with any news as soon as I know myself.”

“But…?”

“Just stay close to the phone and keep the doors locked.” He slammed the door shut behind him.

The Orleans Police station was not far from the Caldwell house. He knew a short cut and arrived at the station within minutes. Once inside, he found the FBI men standing in the entranceway, talking with a policeman.

“Mr. Caldwell, I thought we asked you to stay home,” said
Agent Clark.

Paul looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, you did, but I need to know what’s happening with my wife.” He stood defiant, waiting.

The policeman stepped between the FBI men and came closer to him. He put his face a few inches from Paul’s nose. “Mr. Caldwell? I know you’re worried about your wife, but you need to let us do our job. Understand?”

Paul stood his ground.

“If you’d sit down for a minute, we’ll be able to assess the facts that we do know and then get back to you.”

“Not good enough.”

Lieutenant Gale spun around. “What’d you say?” He placed one hand on his holstered gun and the other on his leather belt.

“Don’t worry,” Paul said with resignation as he backed up onto the bench and sat down. “I’ll stay put.”

The three men looked at each other then disappeared behind the closed door.

Within seconds Paul got up and left.

As he drove toward Pleasant Bay he tried to recall the directions that Nancy had left on her desk. He fumbled around in the glove compartment, looking for his Leatherman, the multi–purpose knife with a lot of tools attached, which he kept in the car for emergencies. The convenience store came up on his left. He spotted Nancy’s car in the rear parking lot. After pulling in beside her car, he opened his trunk and grabbed the tire iron.

Once across the road, he looked for the twisted trees. According to Nancy’s notes, they marked the entrance to the path. With the marker in sight, he headed for the hidden opening. Rain started to
drizzle, dampening the leaves and forest floor.

Present Day

ORLEANS – CAPE COD

AS A CHILD,
if I was in a nightmare, I could just stop, turn away from whomever or whatever was chasing me, place my forearm over my eyes and escape. It always worked. I wanted to do that now, but I couldn’t lift my arm and I wasn’t dreaming. I felt sick. Rain began to drip onto my jacket from the trees above my head. I wondered if I
was going to die.

Nick never lifted his face to look at me as he continued digging. I wanted to know why he was here in the woods, but I didn’t want to make him angry, so I kept quiet.

He must be after the treasure. If I could keep him talking maybe someone will walk by and see us. I took a chance and whispered, “Nick…what are you looking for?” I remembered we’d talked about finding something valuable, based on the old map, when we came up here together. I never expected he would turn on me like this and steal whatever was buried. I kept watching his hands as they sifted through the gold coins and pieces of eight that were slowly being uncovered. God, what a find! These artifacts have not seen daylight for hundreds of years. As much as my arm hurt, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the strange scene unfolding before me. “Nick?”

Paying no attention to me, he stopped digging. Then he picked up a thin, narrow object that resembled a dagger, or letter opener. I squinted to focus better. It looked like a hairpin. The decoration on top of it also resembled the design on my necklace. I went to touch the good luck charm around my neck. It was gone. I looked to my left, where the old man was lying. I must have lost it somewhere in the leaves when he pushed me.

Suddenly the kid Silas appeared over the ridgeline. He was
limping towards Nick and me and looked like he was carrying a gun. His red
hair literally glowed against his pale face. Is this good or bad for me? God, I don’t know what to do. I prayed that he was going to help me.

Big raindrops collected from the branches and dropped on my head. Thank goodness my coat was waterproof. I flipped up my hood. Why was I thinking about keeping dry instead of figuring out
how I was going to make it out of here?

Silas’s footsteps across the forest floor were muted as the leaves
became wet from the rain. Nick didn’t hear or notice his approach; he just kept admiring the object in his hand. The kid hobbled faster towards us. He carried a gun and it was pointed directly at Nick.
When Nick finally turned his head to answer me, he saw Silas coming up on his side.

Silas yelled out in a high-pitched voice, “I want the backpack! Hand it over.”

Nick dropped the hairclip into the hole and swiveled his upper body to face him. Within seconds, he pulled his gun out and shot my potential rescuer. Silas’s body fell forward.

“Nooo….” I cried out. “Why’d you shoot him?” My eyes started to tear. “He’s just a kid.”

Nick’s face twisted into a sneer. “Look, I do what I need to do.”

I was in so much pain. I didn’t want to die now.

Nick finally looked at me. “You know…I really liked you, Mrs.
C.” He bent lower to pick up what he’d found and held it in his hand,
admiring its beauty. “You’ve got a real nice family.” He casually blew some
particles of dirt from the hairpin. Then he studied the ornamentation on its
top.

Maybe I could talk him into letting me go. “Please, Nick. I’m not going to say anything. You seem to have found what you were
looking for. Won’t you please let me go? Take the treasure. I don’t care about it anymore.” I looked right at him, hoping he’d listen with whatever decency he once had inside him.

He ignored me and started to scoop the coins into the canvas bag that lay next to his feet. “You know, you made my job so easy.” He picked up the backpack. The bundles of cash were stuffed into the bag on top of the coins. He held up a stack of bills. “This was a nice bonus.” Then he let out an evil laugh.

“What’re you talking about?” I asked, trying to stall him from completing whatever he was planning to do to me.

“Curious?” He stopped and looked over to me. “Mrs. C,” his
voice was sarcastic now, “not so smart are you? Interested in what’s going on here?”

I nodded and prayed…please take a long time to tell me.

“I was hired to find the missing jewelry from the
San Miguel
.
You know, the Spanish treasure fleet that sank off the coast of Florida; the wreck that Sam Bellamy was going to salvage.” His shovel dug a little deeper and began to unearth the vivid colors of
multiple gemstones. “A discreet collector was very interested in your necklace, which I learned about courtesy of your first adventure. Then you blabbed on about a matching pair of earrings, which I of course stole from Julian
on Antigua. And then you led me right here, for the
piece de
résistance
;
this priceless hair pin.” He put the hairpin into his coat pocket,
scooped up a handful of gems and threw them into the bag.

I watched him kick dirt back into the hole to fill it in. Some of the gold pieces were still lying there as he carelessly tried to cover everything up.

“You won’t get away with this, Nick,” I warned him, hoping to keep him talking.

He just smiled. “I already did.”

Present Day

ORLEANS – CAPE COD

PAUL FOLLOWED
the dirt path until he saw a yellow caution tape blowing in the wind. He heard a shot and slowed up, scanning the woods for any sign of Nancy. A line of old stones appeared on his right. He stopped to look into the partial foundation but saw nothing out of the ordinary. As he turned back onto the path, he spotted a glimpse of red in the far corner of the foundation. He stepped over the small wall of rocks and hurried towards it. Taking a quick breath, he picked up Nancy’s phone.

Paul rushed out of the foundation and started up the sloped path, only to trip over the old man’s prone body. He found an orange bottle of pills, didn’t recognize the name but knew they were
for the heart. He felt for a pulse but found none. As he crouched near the body, he
looked up and spotted a man kicking his feet in the dirt. A woman was sitting on a nearby rock. It was Nancy. She looked hurt. As his eyes focused on the strange scene, he noticed the body of another man, face down on the ground, a few yards up ahead. He stared for
only a few
seconds and then crept to his left, silently crossing the wet oak
leaves.

Present day

ORLEANS

I COULD SEE
Paul sneaking through the woods out of Nick’s sight. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my throat. He was getting closer. Keep asking questions, I told myself. Keep Nick’s attention on me. I quickly uttered, “Nick, could I please see the
hairpin?”

“Why not? It may be the last thing you see.” He took a step towards me and, from his pocket, he pulled out the pin and held it within my clear view. Attached to the top of the silver pin, a delicate
oval piece of
ivory was carved with scrimshaw and tinted with blue. Tiny diamonds surrounded its edge. It was the same design as the
earrings and my necklace. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead as he held it nearer to me. The hairpin was exquisite.

Paul was coming closer, carrying a metal bar in front of his chest. Please be careful, I silently prayed.

Nick withdrew a velvet pouch from his pants pocket. He opened
it onto the palm of his hand. I could see Julian’s earrings and my necklace. “Beautiful, aren’t they? My client will be psyched to
complete his collection.”