elly loitered near the park ranger’s office, listening as Nick gave a report to someone on the phone. From the tone of his voice, he wasn’t enjoying the conversation. When he was done, he emerged from the office and gave everyone a grim smile.
“How’d it go?” Julian asked.
Nick laughed bitterly. “Well. I brought a suspect to a public place while I was supposed to be on guard duty, lost control of my department-issued sidearm, and then allowed the suspect to abscond with it into a crowd. Oh, and fire it. Apparently it hit a goose downriver.”
They all stared at him, wide-eyed and waiting for him to continue. “Let’s just say it didn’t go too well.”
“Have you been shelved?” Kelly asked.
“No. I’ve been given forty-eight hours to fix it.”
Alex had been keeping her distance, but she was edging closer. “You know the only way to find where he’s going is to find the treasure, right?”
Nick narrowed his eyes at her. “Thank you for at least being transparent in your motives.”
Alex shrugged. “What do you say, Detective? You want to work together in this?”
“No,” Nick growled. He headed for the door, and Kelly fell into step beside him.
They reached the door, and Kelly glanced back to find Julian hadn’t moved. He tugged on Nick’s damp shirt, and Nick turned as well.
“You jumping ship?” Kelly asked Julian.
Julian smiled softly. “I have to find Cameron.”
“Good luck to you,” Nick told him. “You have my number if you need it.”
“And you will have mine.”
Nick turned and left the office without another word. Kelly gave Julian a small wave before following his lover out.
“We going after the treasure?” Kelly asked as Nick stalked toward his Range Rover.
“No,” Nick said through gritted teeth. “We are going after my fugitive.”
He opened up the back of the SUV and rummaged around for a duffel bag he kept there. Kelly leaned against the car as Nick pulled out a fresh pair of clothing and began to change, right there in the middle of the parking lot.
Kelly pursed his lips, leering when Nick took his shirt off.
“You’re staring like a pervert,” Nick said without looking over at him.
“So is everyone else in the parking lot,” Kelly shot back. “You should put on dry boxers too. You know. For your health.”
Nick glanced around the lot, then glared at Kelly.
“Come on, Irish. You did everything right, here. You were careful and he still burned you. No way to see it coming.”
“Maybe. Don’t have to bend over and enjoy getting played, though.”
Once Nick had gotten dry clothes on, they climbed into the Range Rover, but Nick didn’t start the car.
“You okay?” Kelly asked him.
“I just… if this was a dead end, what was the point? The plaque we saw on the way there said the original bridge had been dismantled in 1793. Why the hell would you create a clue in 1831 that led to something you knew was gone?”
Kelly nodded, resting his head on the seat. “Maybe we had the clue wrong?” Nick’s green eyes sparkled. “Maybe it didn’t lead us here. I mean, why should it? The treasure was stolen at a tavern between here and Boston. The British were retreating to Boston. They wouldn’t have come back here with the treasure; it’d be hidden between the original theft and the city. So why put a clue that brings you past the treasure? It was a long way by horseback, why all the wasted mileage?”
Nick was nodding as Kelly spoke, his eyes going unfocused.
“What was the whole name on the gravestone?” Kelly asked.
“Russell,” Nick answered. “Russell B. North.”
“We took North as the clue, but what if it’s just the direction we were supposed to head in? Or nothing at all?” Kelly mused. “Is the name Russell important? Is it a town or something?”
Nick sighed heavily and shook his head. “I don’t know. Get your phone out, look it up. I’m going to call Hagan, see if he’s come up with anything in those letters.”
Kelly did a few searches on his phone, trying to combine the words Russell and Revolutionary War with Lexington and Concord. He got results for several soldiers and historians, but one result popped up over and over. “Think I got something,” he told Nick.
Nick had his phone to his ear, but he raised both eyebrows at Kelly. He put the phone on speaker and lowered it to his lap. He was apparently on hold.
“The Jason Russell house?” Kelly said. “This says it was the bloodiest part of the Battles of Lexington and Concord.”
“Where is it?”
“It was in a town called Menotomy. Where is that?”
“That’s what the town of Arlington used to be called,” Nick said as he stuck the keys in the ignition. “It’s not far from here.”
Nick pulled out of the parking lot, sliding his sunglasses on. Kelly grinned at him, kicking his feet up onto the dashboard. “I know I always used to make fun of you and Owen for being history nerds, but I got to say, it’s kind of doing it for me right now.”
Nick glanced at him, and the sun flashed in his aviators.
Kelly nodded, still smiling widely. “The way you just pull facts out of your head like it’s magic? It’s hot.”
Nick chuckled and returned his attention to the road.
“O’Flaherty?” Hagan’s voice came from the phone on Nick’s lap. Nick picked it up and held it against the steering wheel.
“Hey, what you got for me?”
“What do you mean?” Hagan asked.
“The letters you were supposed to be reading over. Have you found anything?”
“Bro, you took the letters with you.”
Nick looked down sharply, then at Kelly. “We didn’t take anything,” Nick told Hagan.
“Your buddy Cross came in before you left, told me you wanted him and JD to skim over the letters last night for a lead. Said you’d decided they would catch more than I could.”
“Fuck!” Nick shouted.
“Did I get played by a CIA hit man?” Hagan asked dejectedly.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! That’s why Cross ditched us, and that’s why he wasn’t interested in finding anything on the bridge. He has the right location already.”
Kelly leaned forward and flipped the flashing lights on. “We better get there first then, huh?”
Nick gunned the engine, and the Range Rover roared to life as he gave Hagan their destination. Kelly settled back to enjoy the ride.
Nick wasn’t trying to hide the Range Rover. It was a distinctive car, especially since everybody and their brother had seen him driving it. He wanted the other players in this to know he was there, that he and Kelly weren’t the stupid grunts they’d assumed.
So he parked it right on the street in front of the swinging white sign that denoted the Jason Russell House. “Site of the bloodiest fighting between the Minutemen and the Redcoats on the first day of the American Revolution,” it claimed.
Kelly gave him a questioning glance, then got out of the car. Between them they only had two guns, and they each carried a knife. Nick had a feeling his badge wasn’t going to be a lot of help to them when this all went down.
“What’s our play?” Kelly asked.
Nick clucked his tongue. “JD and his accomplices in handcuffs. Help Cross retrieve Cameron and then kick his fucking ass. And the location of any possible treasure in the hands of the appropriate authorities.”
“Who are the appropriate authorities in this case?”
“I don’t know. Not me,” Nick growled, and they started off across the lush lawn toward the large yellow house.
“What do you know about this site?” Kelly asked.
“Nothing, why?”
Kelly did a double take as they walked. “Nothing? Seriously? I thought you knew everything.”
“Only thing I know is this is the path the British took when they retreated to Boston. Obviously something important happened and now it’s a museum.”
“Smart-ass.”
Nick stepped up to the door and tried the handle. It was locked. The sign had indicated the place was open from mid-April to October.
“Maybe they mean late mid-April,” Kelly said.
Nick used his badge to knock on the window. They could hear someone moving inside, and finally a woman with a white bonnet and a Revolutionary-era costume came bustling up to the door.
“I’m sorry, dear, we’re closed for the day,” she said through the window.
Nick held the badge up for her to see through the glass. “We’ll only need a minute,” he told her.
She took a deep stuttering breath and glanced furtively over her shoulder. “If you’ll come back tomorrow,” she said, her voice shaky.
Nick cocked his head, looking behind her into the ancient home. The stairs still sported bullet holes from the fighting over two-hundred years ago, and everything had been restored to its original state. Like most homes built in Massachusetts during the early days, the front faced south. The afternoon light streamed through the western windows, and Nick could see a shadow moving on the floorboards in front of the stairwell.
He gave the woman a nod and a smile. “Tomorrow it is then,” he said kindly. “Thank you, ma’am.” He turned away from the door and pulled Kelly with him.
“Someone had a gun on her,” Kelly whispered.
Nick hummed and pointed toward the car, slipping Kelly his gun while their backs were turned to the house. “I want you to go around back, get in the house quiet.”
“Got it.”
Kelly headed around the corner of the house, disappearing within seconds. Nick took out his phone and dialed Hagan. It was still ringing when the door creaked open behind him. He turned, holding the phone away from his ear.
A man stood with the woman in the bonnet, his arm around her neck and a knife to her cheek. “Put that mobile down,” he ordered. His was another Irish accent. “Get inside.”
Nick dropped his phone to the ground without ending the call and put his hands behind his head, walking toward the door obediently.
“You’re a cop?” the man spat. “Son of a bitch.” He slammed the door behind Nick, and shoved the woman at him, forcing them both through a doorway. “Get in there!”
Nick caught her and put an arm around her shoulders. “You okay?” he asked as they moved into the other room.
She nodded jerkily. Nick walked her over to a nearby chair and she sat, then he turned and stood in front of her. Only then did he get a good look at the other players in the room. There was one more man with a gun, and a third hunched against the wall near the fireplace. It took a moment for Nick to recognize him. Cameron Jacobs.
“Cam?” he blurted. “Are you okay?”
“Detective O’Flaherty?” Cameron made to stand, but he winced away from one of his captors when the man made a move toward him. He had a few bruises around his face and arms, and his lip was cracked and bloody. He’d obviously been kept under control through physical means.
“Hey!” Nick shouted. “Touch him again and you deal with me.”
“You want to get hard, motherfucker? Come on!” the man challenged. His accent sounded like home to Nick. It almost made him laugh. Some Southie thug with a gun coming at him like he’d last a minute hand-to-hand with Nick.
“Sit the fuck down!” the other kidnapper shouted at Nick. Nick remained standing, meeting the man’s eyes without flinching. The guy moved closer, putting the muzzle of his gun against Nick’s cheek. “I said sit your arse down.”
Nick cocked his head, lips twitching. “Make me.”
Before the man could react, Kelly whistled behind him. When he turned, Nick grabbed the gun, hitting a pressure point in the man’s arm that would immediately incapacitate his fingers. Kelly hit him with a roundhouse punch that threw him back into Nick, and Nick picked him up and slammed him to his back. The floor shook beneath him, artifacts around the room rattled. Nick kicked the heel of his boot into the man’s head to put him down. The museum curator screamed, covering her face with her bonnet.
Nick turned his stolen gun on the other man, but he had grabbed Cameron and was using him as a shield.
“Oh, son,” Nick drawled. “That wasn’t your smartest move.”
A dark shadow passed in the corner of Nick’s vision.
“You might want to let him go,” Nick warned.
“Fuck you! Put your guns down or he gets one in the skull!”
The door creaked open behind Nick, and Kelly turned to cover their new guests as Nick kept his gun on the Southie kid.
“Looks like we’re having a party.” It was the smooth honey tones of Alex. “Are we invited?” She moved around the corner, a gun pointed at Nick.
“Drop your weapon,” Kelly ordered.
“You first. Ladies can’t be too careful these days.”
“All of you drop your weapons!” the Southie kid shouted.
“Cam, stay calm,” Nick called across the room. There were way too many guns in play now. Nick moved just enough to put his shoulder to Kelly’s, both of them facing opposite directions in the middle of the two forces.
“Cameron?” Julian called. He stepped out into the open. Nick couldn’t see him, but he could tell where he was from his heavy footsteps on the old floorboards. He felt Kelly tense against him.
“Julian!” Cameron cried. He tensed, but the gun at his cheek dug deeper.
“Don’t fucking move!” Southie shouted.
The man on the floor groaned, and Nick turned, preparing to deliver another swift kick to the man’s temple.
“Don’t,” a new voice said urgently. “He’s got information we need.”
Nick’s head jerked up. JD was standing behind Southie, obviously having snuck in from the kitchen. He had Nick’s gun in his hand, but he wasn’t pointing it anywhere. Yet.
“JD,” Nick said in warning.
“Hunt!” Alex called.
Kelly hummed under his breath, and the sound vibrated through Nick’s entire body. They pressed closer together, their first instinct when they were hemmed in. “There are way too many people here.”
“Everyone stay calm,” Nick said in a loud, clear voice. “We can all leave here with what we want. No one has to get hurt.”
“He keeps that gun pointed at my husband, and someone will indeed be hurt,” Julian snarled.
“Tell him to put his gun down,” Southie shouted, nodding his head at Nick. “Or I blow his head off!”
Nick felt Julian move, and Kelly tensed beside him but couldn’t take his attention off Alex and her gun. Nick glanced back in time to see Julian with the barrel of his gun aimed at Kelly.
He sounded apologetic, but deadly serious. “Drop your gun, O’Flaherty.”
The man on the floor groaned again and raised his head, shaking off the stupor. He rolled to his stomach and began to crawl toward his compatriot. His hand went to his belt, where a backup weapon was likely hidden. Nick transferred his aim to the man. “Stop!”
In rapid succession, Southie turned his gun from Cameron’s head to Nick, and JD raised his gun and put it to the back of Southie’s head.
“Don’t!” JD ordered.
No one moved.
“Everyone have a gun on them now?” Alex called. “Is this what boys do for fun?”
Nick grunted, afraid to move with so many nervous and inexperienced personalities involved. Not to mention Julian, who would definitely blow out the brains of an ally to save his husband.
“Okay,” Nick said slowly. “No one move, let’s talk this one out, huh? Bottom line, Cross is here for Cam and the rest of you are here for treasure. I think we can accommodate everyone.”
“What are you here for, cop?” the man on the ground asked.
“I heard they had doughnuts,” Nick said through his teeth.
“Treasure?” the woman in the bonnet asked. She was nearly screaming. “What are you talking about?”
“The Continental payroll,” Nick said to her. “Know about it?”
“Of course,” she said, wiping a hand over her face. “You’re in the wrong town! The Continental payroll was stolen from Buckman Tavern in Lexington!”
“It would have been brought this way,” JD said, speaking to the entire room. “I remembered why we had to break into that bookstore. I remembered everything, Nick.”
Nick glanced up at him briefly, afraid to take his eyes off the kidnapper on the floor for too long.
“They took me from my hotel room,” JD continued. “Alex, I’m sorry, I didn’t leave you guys. Two men came in with guns and said I was dead if I didn’t come with them.”
If Alex responded, she did so silently, because Nick heard nothing from behind him. JD’s blue eyes pleaded with Nick. “I’m not a bad person, Nick. I swear. I remember. Please.”
Nick tried not to examine the melancholy feeling settling in his chest. “I believe you,” he finally whispered. “Tell us what happened.”
“There were three of them,” JD said as he poked his gun at Southie’s head. “Two Irish guys, and this one. They had Cam with them, had him tied up. I kept promising him I’d try to get us out of there and he kept saying his husband would find us, that he was some sort of spy.”
Cameron closed his eyes, swallowing hard.
“They had Julian after the Crown Jewels lead, so they put me on studying the contemporary writings, trying to pinpoint when and where the wagon of treasure had been spotted. I knew about the letters in the bookstore because I’d requested to read them a couple months back. I had the digital copies, but I needed to see the original ones. So much in that time period was done in secret, the originals could have had messages concealed in them. That’s why we went to the store, that’s why they robbed it. I hid the letters to slow them down until someone figured out we needed help or we could get away.”
Nick couldn’t take his eyes off JD as he spoke. His voice was shaky, his eyes were sincere. Every bone in Nick’s body told him JD was telling the truth.
“How’d you figure out it was here?” Kelly asked without turning around.
“When I started remembering things, I remembered a diary entry about this place. How a wagon was seen being guarded by the redcoats. It was the last sighting. And then the name on the headstone, Russell. As soon as I remembered everything, I knew it had to be here.”
“We did the same,” Julian offered. “As soon as I told her what I knew, she directed us here.”
Nick growled softly. “Yeah, we need to talk about the stealing evidence thing.”
“I’d rather talk about the gun to my head thing,” Kelly said wryly.
“Where is it?” the man on the ground asked. “We’ll let him go without hurting him if you tell us.”
Julian growled.
“How did you get here?” JD asked him.
“I called them,” Julian answered.
“Great, so no one actually knows where we’re looking?” Kelly asked.
“There’s no treasure here!” the curator cried. “This museum commemorates a battle!”
“What happened here?” Nick asked her. “What’s the story? Give us the tour.”
“Are… are you serious?”
Nick nodded, still not looking away from the man on the ground.
The woman glanced around at all the hardware being wielded, at all the people filling a little house that must have seen so much violence in its history, if the bullet holes still in the walls were any indication. She took a deep breath.
“After their defeat at Lexington and Concord, the redcoats were retreating to Boston. Along Battle Road there were many skirmishes, and the retreating forces were ordered to clear out any houses they came across to prevent snipers from attacking. Jason Russell, the man who lived here, evacuated his family, but then returned to his home. Nearby, along the stone wall you probably saw when you came in, the minutemen had set up an ambush. They concentrated on the main body of the redcoats coming through, but were outflanked and retreated to this home.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. It was obvious that giving her lecture was helping to calm her a little. Nick’s mind was whirring, trying to fit the puzzle together as she gave them more pieces.
“Jason Russell was an old man, and he arrived at his home just as the minutemen were retreating. He was gunned down just outside his door and then stabbed by bayonets eleven times. The British soldiers massacred everyone else in the house, save for eight minutemen who were able to barricade themselves in the basement. When Jason Russell’s widow returned to her home, she found her husband and the rest of the dead, numbering twelve men total, laid out in rows in the kitchen. She is said to have claimed the blood on the kitchen floor rose to her ankles. Jason Russell and the dead Continental soldiers were buried in a mass grave, no coffins and no services. It took over seventy years for a monument to be erected over the grave.”
She fell silent, swallowing repeatedly, blinking rapidly as she fought off tears.
“That’s it?” the Irishman on the ground asked.
“That is… it. Yes. There is no treasure.”
“What about the basement?” Alex suggested.
“We’re looking for redcoat treasure; the basement was barricaded by minutemen,” JD countered.
Nick slowly lowered his gun, his eyes unfocusing.
“Nick?” Kelly whispered.
Nick didn’t answer.
“Irish?”
Nick winced and lowered his head. “Fuck,” he whispered.
Kelly lowered his weapon as well, meeting Nick’s eyes with a dawning dread. “You know where the treasure is, don’t you?”
“I know where the treasure is,” Nick confirmed. He looked at the woman apologetically. “Can you tell us exactly how big that monument is?”
“Over the grave?”
Nick nodded. Someone in the room cursed under his breath.
“It… it’s rather large. It’s a granite obelisk. Maybe twelve feet tall?”
Nick nodded, lowering his gun further. “That’s that,” he said.
“They buried the treasure with minutemen?” JD asked. “They knew the grave wouldn’t be desecrated by Colonials, so the treasure would stay hidden. And when the war was lost, going back to the shiny new America and digging up national heroes was not an option for any persona non grata like an Irish redcoat.”
Nick glanced sideways at Kelly. Kelly slowly lowered his gun, his body relaxing against Nick’s. Alex had stowed her weapon as well, and she looked crestfallen. She seemed to really be in it to find missing pieces of history, not merely for profit.
Julian had transferred his aim back to Southie, who was still holding Cameron and pointing his gun at Nick.
“That’s it,” Nick said softly. “Game’s over. Time to give up the gun.”
“Fuck you, we didn’t come this close to let a piece of fucking rock get in the way. We’ll come back tonight with a Cat. Knock that bitch over, dig up our treasure, and get our payday.”
Kelly looked over his shoulder, his brow furrowed. He didn’t dare turn around though, not when he knew there was still a gun pointed at Nick.
“We’re leaving, and we’re taking this fucker with us as insurance,” Southie snarled with a jab at Cameron’s cheek.
“Over my dead body,” Julian growled. “No. Make that over your dead body.”
Nick felt the mood in the room shift almost instantly. It was an instinct honed over many years of gunfights and negotiations, the ability to tell when a situation had just turned hopeless.
The man on the ground went for his belt, where a gun had indeed been hidden beneath his shirt. Nick shoved his shoulder into Kelly, sending them both to the floor. Southie fired at them, holding Cameron in front of him as a human shield. Cameron knocked his elbow into Southie’s chin, and Southie stumbled back, falling into JD as the gun went off again.
Nick sat up and fired a single shot, taking the Irishman through the back of the hand as he attempted to pull the trigger. His gun went flying and he screamed, holding his bloody hand to his chest.
Julian also took one shot, but he wasn’t aiming to maim. Southie took the bullet right between the eyes as he was trying to scramble to his feet. His body made a solid thud when it hit the floorboards.
And just like that, it was over. Nick slowly got to his feet, gun still in hand. Alex had taken cover on the stairs, and as soon as she raised her head, Nick gestured to her to get out of the house. She darted forward, not for the door, but for the museum curator with her bonnet in hand. Alex pulled her to her feet and propelled her toward the door, running after her and shielding the woman’s body with her own.
Julian pulled something from his pocket and tossed it into the center of the room. Nick stared at it, not registering what it was.
“Flashbang!” Kelly shouted, and he grabbed Nick and pulled him down. They both covered their ears and squeezed their eyes tight as the flash grenade went off.
The high-pitched whine in Nick’s ears was one he knew all too well, and even with his eyes closed and his face buried against Kelly’s chest, the flash had caused stars behind his eyes. He sat up dazedly, trying to shake off the cobwebs.
Julian and Cameron were both gone.
“Motherfucker,” Nick muttered. A groan from the other side of the room drew his attention, and Nick struggled to his feet. He bent over Kelly first, patting his cheek. “Okay?”
“I hate those things,” Kelly shouted. He put a finger in his ear and wiggled it.
Nick nodded, straightening. He stumbled through the smoke across the room and found JD on his back, blood flowing freely from a wound in his torso. Nick stared at him for a few seconds, his mind chugging to catch up.
“Corpsman up!” he finally called, his voice so hoarse that Kelly’s abused ears didn’t hear it. “Doc! Man down!”
Kelly fumbled his way over, falling to his knees at JD’s side. Nick patted his pockets for his phone before remembering he’d dropped it outside before all the shooting had started. When he looked down at his hand, he realized there was blood spreading across his shirt. He pulled his jacket away, confused about where it was coming from. When he pulled his shirt up, he found the wound.
“Go call an ambulance, Irish,” Kelly said to him. He was working on JD, trying to stop the blood.
“Kels,” Nick whispered.
“Go call!” Kelly shouted without looking up.
Nick nodded. When he turned to go after his phone, though, a man was standing there, gun drawn, badge out. Nick stopped in his tracks, blinking at him.
“Son of a bitch, Nick!” Hagan shouted.
Nick winced, and his head pounded. He took a step back, his foot hit something on the floor, and he sat down hard. Kelly’s hand groped for him, his fingers finally threading through Nick’s as Nick lay back and put a hand over his eyes to block out all the brightness.
“You’re hit!” Kelly shouted at him.
“It’s not bad,” Nick muttered. “Not bad.”
“Stay with me, bud,” he could hear Kelly saying. “Don’t let go.”
Nick turned his head. Kelly was sitting between JD and Nick. He was holding his shirt to JD’s wound with one hand, and pressed Nick’s palm to his own wound with the other. Nick cried out.
“Don’t let go, okay?” Kelly whispered to him, applying more pressure to the wound.
“Never,” Nick managed to say. “I love you.”
Kelly leaned over and kissed him gently. The warmth of his lips was painful on Nick’s.
“Is he okay?” Nick asked, head rolling in JD’s direction.
“He’ll be fine if we get an ambulance to him soon.”
Nick closed his eyes. The pain from the pressure against his wound was gone. Everything was gone except Kelly’s hand on his.
“So will you, bud,” Kelly added, and his voice was far away, echoing off the recesses of Nick’s memories. “You’ll be okay. Don’t let go.”