2 Dead & Buried (6 page)

Jake looked up at them. “You might
have
to figure out why he was killed … or at least who killed him. Overton is all fired up about the manifest linking the dead guy to your family. I eavesdropped on one of his conversations and he was talking about getting a search warrant.”

Morgan’s stomach clenched. Someone had planted evidence in their yard to try to frame her for Prudence Littlefield’s murder earlier in the summer and she suspected it was Overton.
 

“If he gets a search warrant, who knows what kind of evidence he might plant. We can’t let that happen.”

Jake nodded. “You guys need to be careful, though. If that guy got killed looking for the treasure, it might be dangerous for
you
to look for it, not to mention how dangerous it would be to try to track down his killer.”

Morgan’s heart skipped a beat and she glanced over at Celeste, the memory of the guys who tried to grab them earlier that morning fresh in her head.

Celeste tapped her finger to her lips. “Either someone thinks this supposed treasure is worth killing over, or someone had a beef with this guy and just happened to kill him in our yard.”

“Either way, I think we need to find out more about these treasure hunters. Maybe we can get Jolene to do some research online,” Morgan said.

“I think we need to find out more about the
Ocean’s Revenge
. If we can get a clue as to why this guy was interested in the ship we might uncover a motive for someone wanting to kill him,” Celeste offered.

“And a motive could lead us to the killer,” Jake added. “But be forewarned, you might find out your relative wasn’t the honorable merchant you have been lead to believe.”

The girls exchanged a look.
Was it possible their relative was some sort of pirate?
 

“I think I know one way we can find out,” Celeste said, glancing up at the ceiling toward the attic.

Morgan’s stomach fluttered nervously as she followed Celeste’s gaze. She never liked going up in the attic, but Celeste was right. If there were secrets to be uncovered about their ancestors, the attic was the place to find them.

“I say there’s no time like the present,” Fiona said, as she loaded the last of the dinner dishes into the dishwasher.
 

“To go in the attic?” Celeste asked.

“Why are you going in the attic?” Jolene appeared in the pantry doorway.

“Oh, there you are,” Fiona said. “We just finished eating, are you hungry?”

“No, I ate at the restaurant.”
 

Recently graduated from high school, Jolene had a summer job at
Barnacle Bill’s
, a local restaurant, until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. The side benefit was that she was fed well and often surprised them with some great take out.

“What’s this about going in the attic?” She persisted.

Fiona glanced at Morgan. The two oldest sisters were used to sheltering Jolene from anything unpleasant, but Morgan figured Jolene was all grown up now and, if they wanted her to act like an adult, they should treat her like one. She nodded her head.

“We’ve got some more information on the dead guy Morgan found,” Fiona said, then filled Jolene in about the pirate treasure hunters and the ship’s manifest.

“We were hoping you could do some research online about these treasure hunter guys,” Morgan added.

“Of course, whatever you guys need, just ask.”
 

Celeste stood up, and started over toward the back stairs that led to the attic. “I’m heading up … who’s coming?”

“Meoooow!” Belladonna streaked by her and ran up the stairs in a flash of white causing everyone in the room to laugh.

“Well, I guess one of us is excited,” Morgan said as she followed behind Celeste.

The stairs, originally built for servants to travel from their quarters to the other floors without using the main staircase, were narrow. They ascended in single file amidst the groaning and creaking of the centuries old wood.
 

At each floor, the stairway opened up into a hallway for access—they went up four flights, each one seeming ten degrees warmer than the last.

By the time they got to the top, Morgan was breathing heavy. She bent over and put her hands on her knees. Sweat drenched her tee-shirt.

“Sheesh Celeste, you must be in good shape—you aren’t winded at all,” she said sucking in a deep breath and flapping the bottom of her shirt to let some air in.

Celeste smiled at her and Morgan smiled back despite the butterflies that were swarming in her stomach. The attic always made her feel this way. All that old stuff piled up with God knows what hiding behind it creeped her out.

Morgan looked around. It was dark out and the lighting in the attic wasn’t that great—which made it even creepier. She suddenly had an image of them in old fashioned dresses, carrying torches and lanterns to light the way. She was glad they didn’t have to resort to use torches … even though the image seemed quite real for a split second.

“Where was the book? Do you remember?”

Jake, Fiona and Jolene had caught up to them and the five of them stood in the doorway squinting into the attic. The space was immense, taking up the whole fourth floor and consisted of a main room with alcoves and other rooms beyond it. The stairs dumped them out into the main room which ran the width of the house and was just about as long as it was wide.
 

“It looks different up here now. Because there’s not as much light, I suppose.” Fiona stood on her tiptoes and swiveled her head around. “I think it was in that direction … over by the window.”

They picked their way through the various piles toward the window. The attic was crammed full of old furniture, trunks, rugs and boxes. Morgan could tell they were on the right path as she recognized some of the boxes they had opened on their trip up there earlier in the summer.

“That’s it!” Celeste pointed to a bookcase near one of the dormer windows. Morgan wasn’t surprised to find Belladonna sleeping right on top of it. The cat opened one eye lazily then closed it again.

Celeste carefully took the thick leather bound book out of the shelf and set it on a nearby table. She opened the cover, gently lifting the first page. Morgan held her breath, afraid the old paper might disintegrate into dust with each touch.

They gathered behind Celeste, peeking over her shoulder as she turned the yellowed pages.

“That looks like gibberish,” Fiona said.

Morgan leaned closer, her brows creasing together, and tried to make sense of the writing. It had clearly been done with some sort of quill or fountain pen. The ink had faded almost to nothing and there were swirly flourishes and splotches that made it hard to make out the words.

“Can you understand any of this?
 
The words are so strange.”

“Well, they did have different words and spellings back then … but this seems like the words don’t go together.” Celeste leaned even closer.

“I think it might be some sort of code,” Jolene said.

Everyone turned to her. “Code?”

“Yeah, you know like a secret message where you use code words and then have a key that tells you what the words mean.”

Morgan felt her stomach sink. “Well, how the heck are we going to figure that out?”

“Maybe the key is around here somewhere.” Fiona started poking in the bookcase. “Would it be a paper, or something else?”

“There could be a piece of paper that tells you how to decode it, but it’s probably a code that he knew by heart, I doubt you would find anything here that’s going to help you break the code,” Jolene said.

Morgan felt her shoulder slump. “So we’ll never know what it says?”

“There’s some well-known codes that have been used for ages. You know, like replacing the letters of the alphabet with a number and so on. There were many ways people used to encode writing. We should find out some of the most common methods and see if they work on this book,” Jake offered.

“I bet Cal will know about that,” Celeste said, then looked at her watch. “It’s too late to call him and I don’t want to take the book anywhere—it’s too fragile. Someone get me a paper and pen and I’ll copy some of it down, then hook up with him tomorrow and see if he recognizes any of it.”

Jolene scampered off and Morgan turned her attention to the rest of the room. It was filled with castoffs from previous generations. Family heirlooms … or junk? She wasn’t sure which.
 

Over on the bookcase, Belladonna stretched lazily then jumped off and brushed past Morgan with a flick of her tail and a quick look over her shoulder. Morgan followed her. The cat weaved her way through the maze and Morgan trailed along, mesmerized by her ancestor’s belongings that she passed along the way. A beautiful oak bureau with a marble top, a full length mirror with baroque gilt frame, an old playpen—Morgan wondered if it had been hers—and dozens of boxes and trunks.
 

Belladonna stopped at a small box and started sniffing. Morgan crouched down beside her and studied it. It was shaped like a miniature dome top trunk, about a foot long and four inches tall. It looked ancient.
 

Belladonna scratched at it and Morgan picked it up. It looked to be made from some sort of shiny hard, mottled substance.
Turtle shell?
Morgan felt a familiar tingle in her gut as she remembered the manifest from the
Ocean’s Revenge.

“Morgan? Where are you?”

Celeste’s voice startled her and she looked around, noticing Jake and her sisters were rather far away on the other side of the attic.
Had she really strayed that far?

“Oh, there you are. We’re done here so we’re heading back down. Are you going to stay up here alone?”

Morgan’s heart jerked in her chest.
No way was she staying up here alone.

“I’m coming,” she said, then put the box back where she had found it and hurried to catch up to the rest of them.

“It’s a gorgeous day today,” Morgan said as she opened one of the back windows at
Sticks and Stones
. She poked her head out the window and inhaled the sharp, salty ocean air. The cottage was up on a cliff and set quite a ways in from the ocean, but she could still smell it as well as see the brilliant patch of blue sparkling through the trees.

“That it is.” Fiona joined her at the window, her vanilla latte in hand. The woods behind the cottage were filled with old, thick trees and they watched the birds flitter between the branches, their chirps echoing through the forest. One tree, in particular was Morgan’s favorite because someone had carved a heart with an “X” and two sets of initials in it generations ago—so long ago that the carving was now twenty feet high off the ground.

“Did you sleep good last night? I was up all night with nightmares about the attic.” Fiona broke into her thoughts.

“Oh, I thought all that thrashing had something to do with Jake being in your room.” Morgan teased her sister whose cheeks turned bright red. “But, to answer your question, I did sleep very well, surprisingly enough.”

“Yeah, all this pirate stuff is a little disturbing,” Fiona said as she headed back to her work table. “I mean what if the dead guy on the cliff isn’t just some unrelated incident and more things are going to happen?”

Morgan thought back to the attack on her and Celeste the day before, but said nothing.
What good would it do to get Fiona more worried?
 

“
Well hopefully Jolene will be able to find something on those guys that hunt for treasure and that will give us a lead on the dead guy so we can put this all behind us,” Morgan said, slipping in behind her work table.

“Yeah, Jake said he was getting off early today and he was going to get together with Jo and see what they could come up with. Hopefully they’ll have some answers by the time we get home tonight.”

Morgan nodded her agreement. The sooner they got to the bottom of this, the better—that tingly feeling of being watched was getting to her. She was starting to feel like she was just waiting for the next attack, which made her all nervous and jumpy.

The bell on the shop door tingled and Anastasia LePage floated inside, her aqua and lime green caftan fluttering around her like a cloud.
 

“Girls, I need your help!”

Morgan raised her brow at the elderly, somewhat eccentric woman. One of their regular customers, Anastasia’s quirky personality and repeat business had quickly made her one of Morgan’s favorites.
 

“What do you need Anastasia?”

“Oh, I desperately need something for the gout. My big toe is all swollen and the pain is excruciating!”
 

She shoved her foot out from underneath her dress to illustrate. Morgan caught a glimpse of aqua rhinestone sandals and blue nail polish. Her toe did look a tad swollen.

“Oh, that looks painful,” Morgan said. “Devils claw is good for gout. I think I have some in stock, would you like me to get you some?”

“Oh please dear, a big bag if you will.”

Morgan turned to rummage through her shelves then said over her shoulder “Oh, and eat lots of tart cherries, and drink cherry juice … they’ll help reduce the uric acid that causes gout.”