Chapter Sixteen
Charlotte powered through her work. Anything to keep her mind off the evening sail on the Sea Dog. The anxiety about being seasick had gradually mutated into eagerness for the adventure. She was going to meet the entire crew. The privateers she’d researched for years would be standing before her, flesh and blood, and the boat she’d painstakingly re-created with words would be cutting through the water.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited.
“Excuse me, Charlotte?”
She popped her head up from her seating chart for the Pieces of Eight event to find Bruce standing in her doorway. “Hi. Just working on the exhibition.”
“Good.” He came in and took a seat. “I’ve got to run something past you.”
“Okay. What do you need?”
He pulled his unruly curls back from his forehead. “I’m not sure how to say this, but…” His eyes met hers. “I don’t know if you saw the news this morning before work, but two esteemed professors from Savannah State University went missing last night.”
“I’m sorry. Were they friends of yours?”
“Not exactly.” He looked out the window. “But they were last seen at the Land’s End Ranch for an event. Apparently, the barn burned down last night, but the news report said they haven’t found any human remains yet.”
The barn. Was it the same one she’d visited the night before? Her pulse shifted into overdrive, but she did her best to keep the panic off her face. “I hope they’re all right.”
He nodded slowly. “Me too.” He focused on her again. “I worry about you working for Agent Bale and keeping company with rock stars. We’re historians; we research and write.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I’m perfectly safe.” Under her desk, she wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt. He couldn’t know she’d been there. Sort of. Besides, she hadn’t seen a fire. Maybe it was another barn.
“I hope so.” He lowered his voice. “I’m sure the missing professors didn’t think they were in danger, either. You’ve given Agent Bale your work. That should be enough for him. Get out of this while you still can.”
Dread crept up her spine. Bruce wasn’t threatening her. No. He was just worried, trying to protect her. But Keegan was certain he’d seen Bruce come out of a building that could very well house the Serpent Society headquarters.
It had to be a mistake.
“You don’t need to worry about me.” She cleared her throat. “I’m almost finished with the project for Agent Bale anyway.” Charlotte set her computer mouse aside. “While you’re here, does the museum work with anyone across town near the Brotherhood Apartments?”
Bruce stood up from his chair quickly, or maybe it just seemed that way. She couldn’t be sure. He shook his head without making eye contact. “Not that I know of…” His eyes finally met hers. “Why?”
“Just curious.” She prayed her expression remained neutral. Lying wasn’t her strong suit. “Keegan had a gig near there, and he thought he saw you. I figured maybe you were picking something up.”
“He must’ve been mistaken.” Bruce’s eyes narrowed for a second, his mouth in a thin flat line. She’d never seen him look so…stern. He reached for the door and stopped, speaking without looking in her direction. “There’s a lot of history in Savannah, good and bad, and outsiders often have a tough time telling the difference. That’s usually when people get hurt.”
Silence filled her office, the unspoken threat hanging in the air. He looked back at her as he opened the door to leave. “Be careful who you trust. You just met these men.”
“I will. Thanks, Bruce.”
He walked out, and she pulled in a slow breath, replaying the scene in her head. She couldn’t be certain the man Keegan saw had been Bruce, but after her boss’s reaction when she mentioned the Brotherhood Apartments, she’d bet all her savings that Bruce knew more than he was letting on. The real question was, why would he lie about it?
…
Keegan stood on the deck of the Sea Dog and pulled out his cell phone. Char would be arriving soon, so he needed to get this handled. “Mister Pratt? It’s Keegan, Char’s friend.”
“I remember you.” Her father’s words were slow and deliberate. Keegan glanced at the time. Half past three and Char’s dad was already three sheets to the wind.
Keegan ground his teeth. “I need your help with something.”
Even piss drunk, his clipped British accent made him sound annoyed. “How did you get this number?”
“Your wife.” Keegan didn’t bother to explain further. “Agent Bale has a—”
“Pssssssshhhh.” Her father’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t hear you. No signal. One moment.”
Keegan waited, listening to Kingsley Pratt’s footsteps, beeps from a security pad, and finally a door opening and closing. “Still there?”
“Aye,” Keegan replied. “What was that all about?”
“Agent Bale paid me a visit. I’d be an imbecile not to believe my office is bugged now.” He cleared his throat. “Why are you calling?”
“We have a loose end from the other night. I need you to tie it off.”
Kingsley lowered his voice. “What do you mean?”
“Agent Bale brought back one of the Serpent Society’s men. He may have seen Char’s attack.”
“Nonsense. There was nothing to see. She was on the sofa the entire time.”
Keegan turned in to the wind, shaking his head. “He could’ve seen the hook fly from the hay bales of its own accord and into his mate’s skull. If he tells our agent…”
“Bale will know it wasn’t you who threw it.”
Keegan nodded. “Exactly. And since you told him about Char’s ability, he’s liable to dub her a danger.”
“He’s already suspicious that you didn’t throw the damn thing. Bloody hell.” Her father spouted off a few more obscenities under his breath before finally speaking into the phone. “What are you asking me to do?”
“I’m telling you to grow a spine for your daughter and get in the cell with the guy and find out what he knows.” Keegan gripped the railing on the ship tighter. What if Char’s father wasn’t capable of doing what needed to be done?
“And if he knows too much?”
Keegan turned away from the water. Across the deck, Colton was boarding with Skye. He waved and growled into the phone. “I suggest you convince him that he must’ve hit his head and let him know Agent Bale enjoys experimenting on people who have witnessed paranormal events.”
“And if my threats aren’t enough?”
“Then you’ll have to get me inside.” The sun shimmered on the wide Savannah River, tempting him to head for the open sea. Keegan lowered his voice. “Your daughter is in this mess with Agent Bale because of you. Put down the damn bottle and protect her.”
He ended the call and stuffed his phone back into his pocket.
John clapped his shoulder on his way to the ratlines and frowned, a crease forming at the center of his brow. “Everything all right, Keegan?”
“Aye. It will be.” He glanced at the dock. “Will the captain be joining us?”
“Not sure.” The boatswain shrugged. “He didn’t answer my voicemail.”
“We don’t need him.” Keegan shaded his eyes, staring up at the masts. “We’ve got enough men to let the sails fall?”
“Think so. Duke Proctor, Drake Cole, and Greyson Till are heading up the ratlines with me to release the sails. With one per mast, we’ll be slow, but we’re not bein’ pursued, so we should be fine.” John winked with a half smile. “Plenty fast enough to impress the historian.” He sobered, lowering his voice. “Not like you to be bringing a woman on board.”
Keegan bristled. John was tender-footing around, but his message was clear. “I know what I’m doing, boatswain.”
“Do you?” John shook his head as he gripped his shoulder. “If you go chasing after this one, you best be remembering there will be an ending to the tale.”
Keegan narrowed his eyes at his well-meaning friend. “Fuck you.”
John chuckled, kindness shining in his dark eyes. “You’ve got it bad for this woman.”
“Aye.” Keegan broke eye contact. “But it’s different this time. She knows.”
John nodded. “Aye, but that won’t change…”
“I’m well aware of her mortality,” Keegan snapped. He pushed his emotions into the background, anxious to change the subject. “Duke’s coming without the captain?”
Duke Proctor was Captain Flynn’s first mate and usually his perennial shadow. Even in the present times, Duke still worked for Flynn Enterprises.
“Aye. Duke is the cap’s eyes and ears. He’ll report back if Flynn doesn’t make it on board. You know how they operate.”
Keegan nodded slowly as he started heading for the stern. “What about Caleb?”
“He’s charting our course right now.”
“Thanks, John,” Keegan called over his shoulder as he made his way back to the captain’s quarters. This ship was a replica of their original Sea Dog, most of it built by their quartermaster, Colton Hayes, and on this deck, Colton was their leader. Flynn might still be the crew’s captain, but this ship’s command was solely Colton’s.
Keegan rapped his knuckles on the door before stepping inside. “Colton, I need a few words.”
Caleb looked up from his GPS chart-plotter device. The ship’s navigator using a computerized gadget, instead of a metal compass, made the lifetimes that had passed by impossible for Keegan to miss.
Colton stood behind Caleb. He was a head taller than their navigator, so he had no trouble seeing Keegan. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing yet. But I want it to stay that way.” Keegan glanced at Skye and back to Colton. “Did John tell you I’m bringing a guest today?”
Colton nodded. “The historian, right?”
“Aye.” Keegan rushed on, hoping to avoid any more unsolicited advice. “He said Drake’s on board and no word on Flynn yet, but if the captain does show up and insults Char in any way, I want your word you’ll keep Drake out of the mix.”
The first mate was a mountain of a man, by far the bulkiest of the entire crew, and in this century, Duke Proctor had discovered protein powder and personal gyms. He’d never been stronger.
Colton chuckled. “I thought tonight was about making a plan to snag the Grail, not to impress your lady.”
An unexpected grin crept up on Keegan. “Why can’t it be both, mate?”
Skye bumped the quartermaster with her hip. “We can handle Duke and Flynn.” She looked at Keegan. “Does Dr. Sinclair know you’re trying to get the Grail without the government agent’s…assistance?”
Keegan sobered. “Her loyalty is to the crew.”
Colton came forward, clasping Keegan’s shoulder. “You like this one.”
“Aye.” Keegan shrugged free of Colton’s grip. He wasn’t ready to dive into the emotions Char conjured again, and he damn well wasn’t about to discuss it with his quartermaster. “The captain might not show anyway.”
…
Agent Bale jogged up the stairs to Heather’s place. The drapes fluttered on the side window, catching his eye. She opened the door with no trace of a smile and gestured for him to come inside. He stepped in, taking a seat in her wingback chair.
Before he could speak, Heather’s ethereal voice filled the space. “David, what are you doing?”
He frowned. “Was this your chair?”
She pulled her long white hair behind her shoulder. “Don’t be coy. I know you too well.”
“This case is unraveling fast.” He sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m this close to recovering the relic Pokey died trying to help me find, but King is sneaking around behind my back, and it turns out the historian I brought in to consult is more powerful than I want to believe.”
Heather shook her head slowly. “Pokey gave me a message for you. He thinks you need to forget about King’s daughter and look into the Brotherhood Apartments. He’s been inside. They’re recruiting.”
David sighed, straightening in his chair. “If the historian’s powers are as strong as I suspect, she could take out the Serpent Society without ever physically leaving this room.”
Heather’s expression softened as she rose from her perch on the sofa. She knelt beside him, placing her cool porcelain hand over his. “I know you’re trying to honor your oath to protect Americans, but you came here because in your heart, you know this is wrong.”
He met her eyes. “This woman could commit atrocities the police would never be able to solve.”
“Could.” Heather raised a brow. “That’s worlds apart from would.”
Was she right? God, he wanted her to be right, but Kingsley Pratt’s daughter had a power that needed to be monitored and controlled.
As if Heather could hear his thoughts, she murmured, “It’s not a crime until it’s committed. Being powerful doesn’t make her a criminal.”
She returned to the sofa, tucking her feet underneath her. “Now, are you ready to discuss the Serpent Society? Pokey thinks this is your chance to finish them once and for all.” She relaxed her shoulders and took a slow breath. “I assume this will make sense to you, but he claims he’s been following a pirate, and the guy is two steps ahead of you.”
“How so?” David crossed his arms, raising a brow. “I already know where the Grail is headed. Once I have my team together, we’ll intercept it.”
She shrugged, but her bright-blue eyes revealed an all-knowing twinkle. “Recovering the Grail isn’t going to stop the Serpent Society.”
“Enlighten me.” He settled into the chair, resting his hands on the armrests.
“Your informant says there is a locked building beside the Brotherhood Apartments.” Her feet moved onto the floor, and she leaned forward, lowering her voice. “And he said watch your back. One of them works at the maritime museum.”
“Dammit. Not Pratt’s daughter, right?”
She paused, her gaze going distant. Her eyes flicked toward him. “No. It’s a male.”
David was already mentally running through his conversations with every maritime museum employee. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
“That’s all he’s giving me right now.”
David stood, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. “Don’t forget to bill me for your hours.”
Heather got to her feet, a barely there smile on her lips. “I always do.” She followed him to the door. “I know how long you’ve chased these shadows. Please be careful.”
“I will. Thanks, Heather.”
He jogged to his car. Someone at the maritime museum was involved with the Serpent Society. It had to be the director, Dr. Trumain. He’d have to go back to the holding facility and question the sole survivor from the barn. Once he had confirmation, he’d get the pirate crew staked out at the two drop points for the Grail, while he brought in a team to deal with the Serpent Society.
The idea that he might finally be able to stop the fanatical relic chasers filled him with a foreign sense of…hope. They were the bottom-feeders who’d opened up this hidden world to him a few lifetimes ago.
The night they killed his father.
He tapped the pouch of healing herbs in his pocket. He was ready to finish it.