Cross & Crown

“It’s wood,” Kelly blurted.



He and Julian shared an uneasy glance. “There are covered bridges in the area that are over two hundred years old, right?” Julian asked. “It could have survived, being an important landmark.”



“I guess . . .”



They loitered near the monument until Nick and JD came into sight. JD was talking animatedly, and Nick had his head down as he walked. Kelly could tell he was staying aware of his surroundings by the tension in his shoulders, but he also looked irritated.



“What’s wrong?” Kelly asked as soon as they approached.



Nick just looked away and shook his head.



“The bridge is a reproduction,” JD told them. “It’s been rebuilt three times since the Battle of Concord.”



Kelly swiped his hand over his mouth. “Well fuck.”



“Perhaps it wasn’t on the bridge itself; perhaps it was carved somewhere near,” Julian tried. “The bank of this river is littered with large boulders.”



“Yeah.” JD nodded, eyes sparkling. “I was telling Nick, we passed a sign for something called Egg Rock, apparently it’s a big deal. The city even carved a memorial into it. It can’t be the only one.”



“What are we supposed to do, inspect every rock on the riverbank?” Nick snapped.



“We can try the area around the bridge, at least.” Julian sounded almost desperate. He took a step toward Nick, one hand up. “We’ve come all this way.”



Nick met Kelly’s eyes briefly. He seemed at his wit’s end with this. Kelly knew it was frustrating for Nick to fail, especially when lives hung in the balance. But it wasn’t his boyfriend who was being held prisoner, and Julian was asking for nothing but a little more patience. So they headed for the bridge as a brisk wind plucked at their jackets and ruffled Kelly’s hair.



Nick stepped onto the wooden bridge and peered over the edge. It was made entirely of wood, but the ends were built into rock walls. Spring had brought a lot of rain, and the river was swollen with it. To see the faces of the stones, they would have to get wet. He gestured to Julian. “You two check the other end.”



Julian and JD headed across the bridge, their footsteps echoing on the planks. It was a peaceful day, filled with the sounds of birds chirping, groups of chattering tourists, and the babbling of the water as it flowed beneath them. Kelly was kind of enjoying this.



“Who’s going in the water?” Nick asked Kelly.



Kelly held up his fist. Nick mimicked him, and they counted off. Kelly threw paper, then laughed as he covered Nick’s fist with his hand. “Always the rock.”



“Which makes me wonder why you throw scissors half the time.”



Kelly grinned impishly. “Depends on the punishment.



Sometimes I like to lose.”



Nick narrowed his eyes. “Next time I’m taking vacation days and we’re never wearing pants.”



“Deal.”



“Help me out here,” Nick grumbled as he shrugged out of his leather coat. Kelly took it and slung it over the railing.



Nick swung around the end of the bridge and edged his way down the steep bank. The ground was mushy and oversaturated; Nick’s boots made deep furrows in the mud, and he reached up to grip the wooden boards of the bridge.



Kelly laid himself out and slipped his arm under the railing, his hand hanging down so Nick could grab for it if he started to slip further.



Nick held on to the bridge as he examined the wall of rocks. Every couple minutes he would bend and wipe away dirt or pull moss from one of the rocks, his movements growing jerkier and more frustrated the longer he searched.



Finally he was low enough that the water was lapping at his boots.



“See anything?” Kelly asked after a few moments.



Nick glared up at him, his eyes flashing. He gave a single jerk of his head in answer. Kelly heard footsteps on the bridge, then felt them in his chest. He twisted to see JD and Julian walking back toward them. JD was wet up to his chest.



“You can see the original pilings,” JD called down to Nick.



“You got to get wet, Detective.”



“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Nick griped. He grasped Kelly’s hand and slid further down like he was surfing a wave.



Then he was in the water. He moved beneath the bridge, his fingers slipping out of Kelly’s grasp and finally moving out of Kelly’s sight.



JD and Julian both leaned over the railing, trying to see him. Kelly stayed where he was, though, his hand still hanging down. Nick was moving upstream, so if he lost his footing and the water took him, he could at least try to make a grab for Kelly’s hand as he went by.



“Fucking morons,” Nick shouted after several more minutes of silent searching. “Who writes a goddamn message on a wooden bridge?”



“Oh boy,” Kelly muttered. He pushed to his knees and headed to the end of the bridge, stepping out onto the rocks so he could see where Nick was. He was standing in waist- deep water, one hand gripping the piling of the bridge, one hand on a rock in front of him.



“In the middle of a fucking war, where bridges were literally being burned!” Nick shouted.



Kelly beckoned with his fingers. “Come out of the water, bud.”“He had to know wood wouldn’t stick around!” Nick shouted. “Fucking idiot.”



“There there,” Kelly said.



“This shit was gone by the time they put that message in the diamonds,” Nick railed. “What was the point? It’s a fucking dead end!”



“Babe, come on, get out of the water,” Kelly tried again.



“We have a problem,” Julian said.



Kelly glanced up at him, then followed the direction of Julian’s gaze. A couple was strol ing toward them. The woman had a mop of wavy auburn hair, almost the same color as Nick’s, and she was quite striking. High cheekbones, full lips that curved into a smirk. Kelly looked her up and down out of habit. The man was considerably less attractive, with a hard edge to his eyes and a scar that went from one of his heavy eyebrows to his rather square chin. They definitely didn’t look like they fit as a couple.



Julian positioned himself in front of JD.



Kelly watched their approach, the gun on his belt feeling heavier as they came closer. He gave Nick a quick look over his shoulder, but Nick was gone. The water flowed peacefully over the spot where he’d been. Kelly stood, making certain his jacket covered his gun. He didn’t have time to get back up to the bridge, but at least this way they were offering two separate targets.



“Good afternoon, gents,” the man called in a genial Irish accent.



“Hello, Dr. Hunt,” the woman added with a kind smile. “I hear you’re having a rough few days.”



JD took a tiny step sideways so he could see them over Julian’s shoulder. He was smart enough to stay behind Julian, though.



“Where’s the detective?” the woman asked.



Kelly and Julian shared a glance, then Kelly looked over his shoulder into the water.



“Oh my,” the woman cooed. “I do hope he can swim. My name is Alex Kincade. And I understand we’re all searching for the same thing.”



“Somehow I doubt that,” Kelly challenged.



“Doubt all you like, it’s true. The Golden and Rosy Cross.



You’re quite the resourceful little group; we’d like to combine forces.”



Kelly grinned when he saw movement behind the pair.



“Good luck with that.”



“Hands up,” Nick said as he stepped behind them, his gun out. He was dripping from head to toe, his curly hair plastered to his head. “On your knees, both of you. You’re under arrest.”



Nick only had one pair of handcuffs on him. He pestered Julian until the man rolled his eyes and provided a handful of white zip ties from one of the pockets of his jacket.



“Where do you keep all that stuff?” Kelly asked.



“Doc, help me,” Nick grunted. He yanked the woman’s hands behind her back and tightened the zip tie. “You have the right to remain silent,” he said against her ear. “Professor Singleton.”



“Wait, you know her?” Kelly blurted. He had the man restrained and on his knees. Both suspects were staying quiet.



“She’s the one I spoke to on the phone. Told me who JD was.”



“JD,” she said, her voice like smooth honey. It was even nicer in person than it had been on the phone. “Like John Doe. That’s cute.”



“You teach pop culture archaeology huh? Nice cover.”



“I try,” she said with a shrug.



JD stalked toward her, and Nick put a hand out to keep him from getting close enough for her to hurt him. “How do you know who I am?” JD demanded.



“You really don’t remember anything?” she asked.



“Answer the question,” Nick growled. He poked her hard in the back.



Alex cleared her throat. “If you’re going to court me, Detective, I like roses. Red ones.”



“How do you know who I am!”



“We were colleagues, Casey,” Alex said with a hint of injury in her tone. “We find lost works of art and liberate them from their prisons.”



“Wow,” Kelly drawled. “That’s the fanciest ‘I steal things’ I’ve ever heard.”



Nick hummed in agreement.



The woman laughed. “I imagine you think it’s along the same lines as Mr. Cross’s ‘I deal antiques’ in reference to cold-blooded murder.”



Julian’s eyes widened. “You know me?”



“I know of you. I was warned you’d be out here.”



Nick recognized the signs of Julian coiling to attack, but there was no way he could get to him in time to keep it from happening. He wrapped an arm around Alex and turned her, instead, putting himself between her and Julian. Kelly intercepted Julian as he launched himself at them, wrapping him up and trying to talk him into being calm.



“They have him!” Julian snarled. Kelly had his hands full trying to restrain him.



JD edged away from them, a hint of a wild animal in his eyes, which were darting from Julian to Nick and back.



“It’s them, they took him!” Julian railed.



They were drawing way too much notice from the crowds of tourists. Nick tucked his sopping wet shirt in under the badge on his belt so it would be visible.



“We didn’t take anyone,” Alex insisted. She looked over her shoulder, and Nick turned a little so he could see Julian.



Kelly had him in a headlock, but he was trying not to hurt him so they were both struggling. “Good Lord,” Alex said quietly. “You have a leash for him, right?”



Nick tightened the zip tie, and Alex winced. “What was your endgame here, huh?” he asked. “You followed us hoping we’d lead you to the treasure?”



“Pretty much, yeah. When the clues led you here, though, I realized you were as stuck as we are. This isn’t the right place.”



Nick’s brow furrowed, and he glanced again at the others.



Alex’s Irish henchman was standing calmly aside, his hands tied behind his back, watching. He hadn’t tried to make a run for it. Julian was on his knees, head hanging, chest heaving.



Kelly stood over him, a hand on his back, murmuring words to calm him.



Nick wiped his wrist over his forehead to stop the water from dripping in his eyes. As soon as he’d heard Julian give his warning on the bridge, he’d sunk below the ripples and let the current take him downstream, then doubled back to get the drop on their unexpected company.



“Okay,” he said almost to himself. “Okay. Hold on.”



Julian glared at him, seething.



Nick turned Alex again, making her stumble as he forced her to face the others. “Tell us a story, Professor,” he growled.



“From the beginning.”



Alex cleared her throat. “You seem like a CliffsNotes crowd.”



Kelly stood and shook out his shoulders. He helped Julian to his feet. JD came closer.



“Okay, let’s start with the basics. Do you know who the Rosicrucians were?”



“Secret society precursor to the Masons,” Kelly grunted.



“They were esoteric, focused their efforts on nature, healing, and chemistry,” Nick added.



“Impressive. They are rumored to have made incredible breakthroughs, including gaining mastery in alchemy and, most famously, creating the philosopher’s stone.”



“Like Harry Potter?” Kelly asked.



“No,” Alex said, her voice cold. “Not like Harry Potter.”



“Get to the point a little faster,” Nick urged.



“The point is, those are myths and legends, but the reality behind them is true. The Rosicrucians made valuable advances with their equations and formulas. They could cure illnesses in the Middle Ages we could only hope to fight against today.



There are even contemporary sources that imply they were able to cure cancer.”



“The Rosicrucians had a cure for cancer?” JD asked. He’d pulled to his true height as Alex spoke, a look of recognition dawning on his face. He winced and smacked his forehead.



“They wrote the formulas on gold scrolls to keep them from being destroyed.”



“Exactly,” Alex said. “He hasn’t lost all that knowledge up there after al .”



“Golden scrolls?” Nick repeated.



“When the Masons rose to power, they sought to protect that knowledge. They were at war with the Catholic Church, who was in the midst of a power grab. The Pope decreed everything the Rosicrucians had discovered was magic, of the devil, all that crap. The burgeoning Masonic powers couldn’t risk the Church obtaining the scrolls and melting them down.