Always Friday (11 page)

“Here is the Bible Laffite gave to his daughter Violet.” She
opened a wooden case that was about ten by twelve inches. Inside the worn,
velvet lining was a remarkably well-preserved Bible. She opened it carefully. “This
is the date of Violet’s wedding. And here are the names of her parents.”

“But it says her father was named Theodore Lucas.”

“I’ll explain that later. Look at all these dates that are
recorded.” She pointed out the birth of twin daughters, Electra and Amelia,
born to Violet the year after her wedding. Also listed were various births and
deaths and marriages of the generations up to the birth of Tess’s mother Anna,
the death of Anna’s father in the early days of Viet Nam, and Anna’s marriage
to Robert Thomas Cameron.

“Aunt Olivia told me her grandmother Casey Prophet, the one
who was married to the Texas Ranger, died several years before I was born. She
must have recorded the last entries, and then the Bible was packed away with
her things.”

“I still don’t understand what this has to do with the
pirate.”

“Privateer,” Tess corrected. “Be patient and I’ll show you.
Notice the front of the Bible case.”

Dan closed the wooden box and looked at the crazed surface
with seven multicolored stones embedded in a meandering rainbow trail. “What am
I supposed to see?”

“I’m coming to that.” She handed him two sheets of yellowed,
worn paper encased in plastic. A corner of one—the sample she’d sent to Dr. Staats—was
missing. “This is the letter that was in the Bible.”

Dan looked exasperated. “It’s in
French
.”

“I know that! Laffite was French.”

“What does it say? In English, please.”

Tess laughed. “In essence, it’s written to ‘My darling
daughter’ and says that he had left her because he had many enemies intent on
doing him harm. Her mother’s family had told Violet that
Theodore Lucas
,
her father, was dead, because they didn’t approve of his privateering. Although
he assures her that it was an honorable endeavor and he always secured the
appropriate letters of marque. He says that he had thought of Violet often and
that now on the occasion of her marriage, he wanted her to have this Bible,
that would provide for the spiritual and material benefit of herself, her
children, and her children’s children. Each time she looked at the stones on
the case she was to remember the wealth of love that her father felt for her.”

Dan frowned. “It’s a very nice story, Tess. But I haven’t
heard anything that convinces me her father was really Jean Laffite. During
that period there were lots of privateers.”

Tess handed him a photocopied sheet of paper. “This is a
page from a translation of Laffite’s memoirs which were written between 1845
and 1850. The original journal, in French, is in a museum near here. Don’t
raise your eyebrows at me, Daniel Friday. I’ll admit that there is some
controversy about its authenticity, but several prominent historians, including
Dr. Staats, believe that it’s genuine. Notice the highlighted area. He says
that he gave his name as Theodore Lucas to some English captain. It was one of
the many aliases Laffite used.” She smiled smugly.

“Does the journal mention Violet or Contessa?”

Her face fell. “Well, no. But I’m sure there’s some
plausible explanation.”

He took her hand and brought it to his lips. His eyes were
gentle and his expression tender. “Honey, I’ll admit there are some strong
coincidences, but don’t pin your hopes on something so flimsy. I don’t want you
to be hurt.”

Tess should have felt warmed by his concern, but she didn’t.
His condescending attitude irritated her to no end. “Give me credit for some
brains!” She snatched her hand away. “I never realized just how stubborn you
are, Friday. When you make up your mind about something, an act of Congress
wouldn’t change it.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m closed-minded?”

“I’m not insinuating anything. I’m telling you flat out. You’re
closed-minded. You haven’t even heard all the evidence and already you’ve
decided that I’m suffering from some sort of nutty delusion. What is it with
you? I thought you were getting over your stick-in-the-mud attitudes, but they’ve
just been lurking in a dark corner waiting to reappear, haven’t they? You’re
quick to claim that you don’t jump to conclusions, but let me tell you, up
until now I haven’t seen any evidence that would convince me of it.”

Dan started to say something, then paused and took a breath.
“I’m sorry, Tess. Perhaps you’re right. I know this is important to you. Why
don’t you show me the rest of the things?”

“No!”

“Now who’s being stubborn?”

Tess shot to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. Her
eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to prove anything to you. None of this is any of
your business anyway.”

“Children, children,” Olivia said as she came into the room
with Martha close on her heels. “What’s going on? We could hear you all the way
downstairs.”

“Your grandson,” Tess said to Martha, “is undoubtedly the
most pig-headed man I’ve ever met!”

Martha cocked her head. “Danny always has been a wee bit
stubborn.”

“
Gram
!”

Tess crossed her arms and gave Dan a smug, I-told-you-so
look. “He doesn’t believe that we know where Laffite’s treasure is buried.”

“But, Danny, the map shows exactly where it is.”

“What map?”

“
This
map,” Tess said, whipping out another sheet of
tattered parchment encased in plastic. “The one that marks seven areas and
gives explicit directions to where treasure was stashed. The one that says: ‘Some
of these I buried myself during the time my commune at Campeche was flourishing,
and others were hidden for me by my good and trusted friends, the Bowie
brothers.’“

Dan looked stunned. “Let me see that.” He reached toward the
map.

She held the map away from him and tilted her nose in the
air. “Oh, I think not. If you will excuse me, I’m going to take a shower.”

Tess fluttered her fingers in a farewell gesture and
strolled from the room, taking the map with her.

“Tess, come back here!” Dan roared. But she ignored him and
hurried upstairs to her spacious third floor bedroom.

She’d barely locked the door behind her when Dan started
rapping on it, demanding to talk to her. Stifling a giggle, she sauntered to
her desk and laid the map beside Casey Prophet’s journal and the other material
she’d been collecting. Serves him right for being such a spoilsport, she
thought, listening to him knock and call to her. It would do him good to stew
for a while. Daniel Friday might as well begin learning right now that he
should never ever underestimate her.

*    *    *

At dinner that night, the excitement was running high as
they started making plans for the treasure hunt. Everyone was talking at once. Everyone
except Dan. He sat picking at the casserole Ivan had left for them.

“I just know we’ll find it. Providence had a hand in this,”
chattered Martha Craven. “Why just the weekend before I found the journals,
Olivia and I were at Delta Downs and found out Pirate’s Pleasure was for sale.
We were wishing we could buy him, weren’t we, Olivia?”

Olivia nodded. “He reminded me of a thoroughbred my granddaddy
used to have. Pirate’s Bounty, his name was. Fast as the wind. When we
investigated, we found out that that Pirate’s Pleasure’s bloodlines could be
traced back to that very same horse.”

“What in the world would you two do with a racehorse?” Dan
asked.

“Why”—Olivia’s face was perfectly straight—”we’d planned to
tether him in the backyard and sell rides on him for a dollar.”

Dan looked appalled.

“Miss Olivia’s pulling your leg,” Hook told Dan, his gold
tooth flashing as he grinned. “Don’t let her fool you. Miss Olivia’s a fine
businesswoman and she knows horses. Had a bunch of winners last year. She’s got
a nice little string of fillies on her farm in Louisiana, and she’s had her eye
out for a good stallion for stud.”

Tess couldn’t resist a satisfied smirk and a smug little dip
of her chin. “Jumping to conclusions about people will get you every time,
Friday.”

“Danny, we’ll need to get the RV right away. Would you take
care of transferring the cash to my checking account?”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want,” Dan said, “but I don’t
understand why you need an RV, Gram.”

“Tess says that we’ll be much more comfortable with a
portable place to rest and refresh ourselves while we’re searching for the
treasure. We thought about renting one, but if we buy Pirate’s Pleasure, we’ll
be following the races more. Most of the owners have RVs at the track since
they’re so convenient.”

“I see.”

Tess was beginning to feel a little sorry for Dan. At every
turn, his misgivings had been countered. “I’ll get the dessert,” she said,
pushing away from the table.

“I’ll help you.” Dan followed her into the kitchen. “Tess,
we need to talk.”

She sliced the pound cake and distributed it to the dessert
plates, then leaned back against the counter. “Dan, I know you still probably
think this treasure hunt is bunk, but trust me, I’ve researched it very
carefully for a long time. The authentication from Dr. Staats was simply a
final verification of what I already knew.”

“I’ll admit I still think the whole idea seems farfetched,
but I’m more interested in talking about us.” He wrapped his fingers around the
side of her neck and stroked the edge of her jaw with his thumb. “We have some
unfinished business to discuss.”

He was so close that she could feel the heat from his body,
and his blue-gray gaze was on her mouth. Her lips tingled and she parted them
to moisten them with her tongue. His fingers tightened around her neck and he
pulled her closer.

“Do you have any idea of what just the scent of you does to
me, Tess?”

She shook her head slowly. “Tell me,” she whispered, her
voice husky.

“It sets me on fire.”

He was lowering his mouth to hers when a voice said, “Oops!”

They both turned to see the flash of Olivia’s long red hair
and green dress as she slipped back out of the kitchen.

Dan smiled. “Later.”

She chuckled, then turned and ladled lemon-butter sauce over
the cake slices. When Dan helped her carry the plates to the dining room,
Martha and Olivia, who had their heads together, ceased their whispering and
jumped apart. Tess could almost see canary feathers dangling from the mouths of
the two smiling ladies whose eyes darted back and forth between Tess and Dan.

*    *    *

Tess rose from the tub where she’d been soaking in a warm
bubble bath and dried off. Wrapping the towel around her, she went to the door,
opened it, and poked her head out, listening. The late-night news had been over
for half an hour and the house was quiet. Not even the usual drone of Johnny
Carson and his guests marred the silence. She smiled and closed the door.

What did one wear to a seduction?

Particularly when the seducer might meet a restless
chaperone while sneaking in or out of the house? That precaution eliminated
some of her more obvious choices. And it was a bit nippy out for some of the
things she had considered. With a wicked grin, she finally settled on a slinky
silk robe in pulsating purple. It was split up each side, cut low in front, and
decorated with a long gold tassel attached to its zipper.

Dan was good with zippers.

Grinning as she dressed, she thought of how surprised Dan
would be when she showed up on his doorstep in nothing but a whisper of silk
and a smile. He’d never be able to resist; she was going to turn his libido
every which way but loose.

Tess picked up the map and the journal and, carrying her
slippers in her hand, quietly tiptoed downstairs. She paused at the second
floor landing to listen. The only sound she heard was the tick of the
grandfather clock in the hallway below. She shrugged and, descending close to
the wall to avoid squeaks and creaks, stole down the stairs and out the back
door.

She stopped to pull on her slippers, then made her way to
the guest cottage. The short hairs on her neck prickled and she glanced over
her shoulder. A movement at a second floor window of the big house made her
freeze. She could have sworn that a curtain had fluttered, but she saw nothing.

How silly, she scolded herself. She was acting like a guilty
teenager. Certainly Aunt Olivia wouldn’t care if she visited a man alone at
night, even if she knew Tess’s purpose. In her day, her aunt had been quite a
coquette, and she was extremely broad-minded. But Dan’s grandmother was another
matter. She seemed a bit more old-fashioned than Olivia, and Tess didn’t want
to embarrass Aunt Martha.

Waiting in the shadows and staring at the window until she
was sure that the movement had been a figment of her imagination, Tess bit back
a nervous giggle. The whole thing was beginning to feel like a scene from a
Pink Panther cartoon. Her heart was racing and she could feel the flush of
excitement on her cheeks.

She only hoped that Dan wouldn’t throw her out. She’d given
him a hard time after dinner. Instead of maneuvering for a way to talk with him
privately, she’d insisted that they join Olivia and Martha for a few rubbers of
bridge. Dan hadn’t been able to concentrate on the game at all; the two older
ladies had thoroughly trounced them. Perhaps it was because Tess had kicked off
her sandals and run her toes up his leg while they played. The first time it
happened, he’d made a funny strangling sound and trumped her ace.

Grinning as she remembered the look on his face, she went to
the door of the cottage and stepped out of her dew-dampened slippers. Her hand
was raised to knock when the door swung open.

Her eyes glazed and her mouth went dry.

Soft music was playing inside, and there, outlined in the
dim lamplight of the living room, stood Dan. Leaning with one hand on the knob
and the other on his out-thrust hip, he wore the low-slung bottoms of the loden
green silk pajamas she’d bought for him. She’d had an idea those pajamas would
look good on him. They did. They were dynamite. If the women of America could
see him now, by noon tomorrow there wouldn’t be another pair of pegged silk
pajama bottoms left in the country.