Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“Next one’s further north, past the lighthouse,” I say, marking the map.
“About what Reeves said,” Sid packs the equipment. “Your father encoding information in the star.”
The idea’s been bothering me since we met the developer. “Dad was good at hiding things. When I was little, he made treasure hunts for my birthdays. Clues hidden in everyday objects.”
“How did you build the star? Anything unusual?”
I close my eyes, seeing it clearly. “Five points, each from different driftwood. Connected at the center with a circular section I hollowed out for blue sea glass. The backing...” My eyes open. “The backing. I used one flat piece to mount everything, but Dad insisted on a second layer underneath. Said it’d make the star more stable.”
“A hidden compartment.” Sid’s excitement matches mine. “Between the backing pieces.”
“That’s where he hid whatever Reeves wants. Dad knew I’d never take it apart.”
Finn circles back from the rocks, looking at us.
“We need that star,” I say firmly. “Now more than ever.”
“To find it, we need to know where Reeves keeps it,” Sid says. “His address would be on the card.”
The business card sits on the rock where Reeves left it. I pick it up. “Jonathan Reeves, Director of Acquisitions, Coastal Development Partners, LLC.” Providence address and contact information below.
“Providence is forty minutes away,” I calculate. “We could go now.”
Sid shakes his head. “Can’t just break in and take it back. But we might gather information about their plans for Seacliff Haven.”
“True.” I nod. “And we still have more locations to check.”
We continue our beach exploration, heading for the fifth site. The map shows it beyond the lighthouse, in an area only accessible at low tide. The timing works.
The walk takes twenty minutes. Finn ranges ahead, circling back occasionally. The beach grows rockier, tidepools reflecting the cloudy sky.
“Been thinking about your star,” Sid says, navigating around a large tidepool. “If your father found proof of the Salvador Mundi, what form would it take?”
“Coordinates, maybe. Or photographs of artifacts that’d identify the ship.”
“Either would be valuable,” Sid agrees. “And bad for developers wanting to build on the site.”
The fifth location’s hard to pinpoint. The reference points blur in this remote section. After debate, we settle on a spot where large rocks form a rough circle, matching the map.
“This feels right,” I decide. “Dad brought me here after a big storm once. Said the ocean gives up its secrets during times of change.”
We use the radar again. Nothing underground. Disappointment starts to settle, then Finn barks, focused on a narrow crevice between the largest rocks.
“What is it, boy?” I peer into the shadowy space.
Finn paws at the opening, too large to fit inside but clearly interested. I pull a flashlight from my pack.
“Something there,” I confirm, seeing metal glint. Too narrow for my arm, but Sid’s slimmer build works.
“Got it.” He extracts a small box made of tarnished metal.
Six inches square, surface etched with intricate designs obscured by corrosion. A simple latch, fused shut by centuries in the sea.
“Don’t force it,” Sid says. “Needs proper conservation.”
I photograph from all angles, noting the scrollwork. “Portuguese craftsmanship?”
Sid nods. “Sixteenth century design. Could be someone’s personal item from the Salvador Mundi.”
We wrap the box carefully, add it to our collection. The discoveries strengthen my conviction that Dad found the legendary shipwreck, documenting everything before his heart attack.
“Sixth location’s back toward town,” I check the map. “Near the old fishing pier.”
Sid checks his watch. “Almost noon. Christmas Market will be busy. We’ll attract attention.”
He’s right. Two people with a Giant Schnauzer, digging near town during a major event? Obvious.
“Split up,” I suggest. “You research Coastal Development online. I’ll check the location with Finn, stay discreet.”
Sid hesitates. “After Reeves confronted us, I don’t like you going alone.”
His protectiveness surprises me. So does my lack of irritation. “Finn’ll be with me. Public area, lots of people.”
“Let me drive you to the pier at least. Long hike back to the cars.”
I agree. We head back toward the lighthouse parking. The morning’s discoveries have clarified things. The Salvador Mundi seems real, not legend. Dad assembled convincing evidence.
At Sid’s car, practicalities hit me. “We need secure storage for these. My house or your gallery could be vulnerable if Reeves escalates.”
“Small safe at the gallery,” Sid offers. “Not ideal, but better than exposed.”
“My cottage has a basement with a solid lock. Dad installed it.”
We choose my basement. Lower profile than Sid’s gallery. After securing the artifacts, Sid drives me to the old fishing pier at the southern end of the main beach. The town buzzes with Christmas Market activity, colorful booths brightening the gray December day.
“Text when you finish,” Sid says as Finn and I exit. “I’ll pick you up or meet you at your place with whatever I find about Coastal Development.”
Watching Sid drive away creates an unexpected unease. Our partnership, formed so fast under strange circumstances, has become comfortable. Its absence leaves a void.