Ghost's Treasure (2 page)

Her pile grew taller as she dug her way to the bottom. Plucking the final volume, she wondered at the uneven weight of the copy. Not much, but enough for her research librarian senses to pick up. The faux red leather binding reminded her of the old encyclopedias salesmen used to carry door to door in hopes of selling enough sets to pay their bills. Dust and several old webs told a story of years being stored in a box, without anyone putting hands on the item. Heck, the whole container fit the same bill.

Wiping across the bottom, she discovered another interesting tidbit. The pages wouldn't part. They weren't stuck. No. They were simply carved to appear real. Puzzle pieces began to click as she studied the item in her hand. This wasn't a book at all. Instead, she'd bet the imposter served as a small flat box used to hide valuables.

Excitement washed over her as she deftly ran her fingers over the sides, then the top and finally the bottom, searching for a latch or some way of entry. Finally, her thumb brushed across a slight protrusion. With a gentle nudge, she felt the lock give only to stick again.

"Dang it." Jumping up, she headed into the kitchen and returned with a butter knife. With exquisite care, she worked at the lock, finally managing to force the old metal apart by bending the hook. Sure, the box wouldn't be usable again after she broke the latch mechanism. However, curiosity overrode her caution. Something important had to be inside. At least important to someone in the past.

Slowly but surely, she opened the lid, letting it fall to rest on the sheet. Inside was what appeared to be white linen handkerchiefs wrapped around oddly shaped objects. Gently picking the first up, she pulled away the layers of cloth until the mysterious treasure dangled from her fingertips.

"Oh, my." The words of reverence couldn't begin to describe her feelings at holding such an object.

A long golden interlaced chain dangled from her fingers. The centerpiece was a golden cross decorated with beautifully carved sapphires, each one matching the next in size, shape, and color. One side of the cross sported a white pearl while the opposite arm lacked the added decoration. Despite an obviously long time spent tucked away and forgotten, the whole item sparkled in the sunlight streaming in from her living room window. Certainly no expert, she considered the possibility of high quality costume jewelry before tossing aside the notion. The weight and sheer precision of the piece spoke of money, expertise, and rarity. Flipping the medallion over, she squinted, valiantly searching for a mark or writing of any sort. Finding nothing, she fingered one of the brilliant blue jewels.

With great tenderness she laid the necklace down on the sheet and began to painstakingly unwrap the second item stashed in the fake book. A bright swath of whiteness glimmered. Resisting the urge to hurry, she delicately loosened every piece of cloth from the piece before holding the prize in her palm. A small cameo stared back at her. The raised picture reminded her of an odd looking tree or perhaps a sprig of broccoli. Either way, the perfectly conditioned piece spoke of age and mystery.

As she picked at the handkerchief, a slight sound of metal plummeting the short distance to the floor caught her attention. Glancing down, she found a golden ring. She picked the band up and gave the item a closer look. The square top was actually small triangles in various shades of green. By the weight, she judged the material solid gold with some sort of gems on the decorative flat surface.

Her gaze traveled back to the chain and cross as her mind whirled with astonishment and a near certainty that she stumbled across something big. Really big.

Obviously of great worth, she needed to find a safe place for them until she could determine what exactly they were and the best future home for all three objects. Glancing around, she frowned.

Her one bedroom apartment lacked more than the bare essentials. A hand-me-down sofa sat against one wall facing a small television perched on a secondhand stand. The spartan decorating style carried through the rest of the living space. No hiding place came to mind. None at all.

Handling the three historical pieces with great care, she wrapped them in their protective linen and tucked them back in the makeshift book. The ruse would work for a day or two. Until she could find a much better place for them.

Standing, she carried her newly discovered treasure and tucked them away in her underwear drawer. The rest of the books she'd donate to the library as none of them seemed to pan out. No matter. The ample surprise at the bottom more than made up for the lack of quality literature.

Where am I going to store them?

A bank safety deposit box came to mind. As quickly as she came up with the idea, she tossed it aside. While a great place and relatively safe, she couldn't dispel the concern over some money exchanging hands and a locksmith entering the bank vault and easily liberating her find from the supposedly safe container. No. She needed something more foolproof, more sneaky. In the last place someone would think of looking.

An image formed in her head, causing her to grin like a Cheshire cat.
That's it!
With renewed energy and determination, she hurried back to the cardboard box, reloaded the books, grabbed her purse, and scurried out the door. Her idea called for a quick stop at the local hardware store.

Chapter 3

"You'd think as a research librarian, I could find out something by now." Josie's fingers pelted the keyboard like a steady rain on unyielding stone. She'd already tried various searches only to come up empty-handed each time. Nothing on the internet even began to look like, or sound like, the newly discovered treasures, which lay hidden in the purse locked away in her locker.

"Miss? Oh, miss?"

She glanced up to find a young blonde lady staring at her with a frown of impatience on her face. "Can you help me, please?"

Josie plastered on a smile. "Sure. What are you looking for?"

"Information on the Civil War."

"What part of the Civil War?"

The girl shrugged. "I don't know. I just have to write a research paper about the Civil War. The professor didn't specify what part."

Barely refraining from rolling her eyes, Josie led the girl to the history section of the vast metropolitan library. The entire building took up a city block with a dozen side rooms storing everything from old microfiche machines to card catalogs to donated historical documents. Books and journals were crammed into the main area patiently waiting for an avid reader or researcher to pluck them from the shelves and discover their secrets.

"Here we are." Josie stopped at one of the side rooms just off the main area. "This is the Civil War area."

The girl's mouth fell open. "How am I going to find anything?"

A rueful grin formed on Josie's face. "You decide what you want to write about, then go digging. Or, you go digging until you decide what you want to learn about, then you dig some more."

"But…"

Josie spun around and took off at a fast clip. No way would she sit at a table and handhold the girl through her project. If the student wanted to get through school, she needed to learn to do things herself. What better time than now?

Heading back to her desk, Josie stopped when she found a middle-aged man not only sitting in her worn wooden chair but plucking away on her keyboard. Anger and annoyance shot to the fore.

Hastily striding over, she glared down at the man. "Excuse me."

He barely spared her a glance.

"This is my computer, not a public computer to be used."

"It wasn't in use."

She bit her tongue. "I beg to differ. I was using this until I'd been called away for only a moment."

"Seat was empty, thus you weren't using it."

Her temper flared. Obviously, the man had no manners and felt he owned the world. Nothing short of throwing him out of her seat would work. She opted for the next best option: kicking the power plug out of the floor receptacle. The computer screen immediately went black.

The man snarled at her. She smiled, bitterly sweet, and pointed across the room. "This one seems to be down. Those over there appear to be in working order, and there are two that I can see are presently unoccupied."

He stood up, grabbed his papers, and shuffled off with a litany of curses under his breath.

She barely resisted the urge to throw her stapler at his head. Talk about arrogant, overbearing, and egotistical patrons. Unfortunately, the city had their fair share that happened to enjoy spending endless days at the library bugging the crap out of her with ridiculous questions, outrageous demands, and snotty attitudes.

Plugging the cord back into the outlet, she plopped down and waited for her computer to come back on. Once again, she debated on how to track down information on her finds.
Now what do I try?
Everything so far had been a dead end. Her morning search, though long and detailed, proved a study in failure. She needed to find a different path, maybe enlist the help of an expert. A light bulb clicked on.

An hour later, she sat back and sighed in relief. She'd managed to upload the three pictures of the items from her digital camera onto the computer. From there, she tracked down a couple of museums specializing in old jewelry along with two appraisers connected to the big auction houses in the US. Surely, one of them would email her back with something.

Her belly growled, reminding her of lunchtime. Glimpsing the clock, she cringed. Two pm. She'd been too busy on the computer to notice the time. No matter. Quickly, she locked the computer so no other rude patron could use the machine while she was away at lunch. Lesson learned today.

Trotting down the stairs, she waved at the head librarian, a salt-and-pepper haired lady with a generous heart and quick smile. "Going to lunch, Mary."

"So late?" A perplexed look crossed the other woman's face.

"Yeah. Unfortunately. I kept getting dragged off to help people and couldn't get away at my normal time."

Mary nodded. "That happens. Well, enjoy your lunch."

Josie made a beeline for her locker in the basement. Gathering up her insulated lunch pail and her purse, she stuck her head out the door, then snuck around the corner and through the door into one of the seldom used corners of the vast library. Once there, she pulled out a couple of books, dragged the bolt and drill from her lunch pail and went to work. Fifteen minutes later, she nodded approvingly. The small metal security box bolted to the cement wall would hold the jewels without difficulty, stay hidden and locked away from prying eyes until she could return later. Pocketing the key to the lock box, she stood back up. With a width of about three inches and slightly longer side, the container fit precisely in the corner of the wall and the shelf, allowing the books to fit back in their natural position, effectively hiding the metal box and impressive contents. The chances of anyone stumbling across her makeshift safe rivaled man growing wings.
That will work until I can find a decent buyer or take the items to auction.

Standing, she dusted off her knees, collected her goods, and studied the area one more time. Something nagged at her.

The dust! Her fingerprints were all over the couple of books that she removed, but no other book appeared to have been touched for the past thirty years judging by the thick layer of dust evenly covering each and every one.

"Well, crap." Heading back into the staff room, she grabbed several dusting clothes from the closet, stuffed her peanut butter sandwich in her mouth, grabbed her small bottle of milk, and returned to the area. Pulling the line of books off the bottom shelf, she first cleaned the metal shelf itself, then wiped down each and every book as she returned them to their original place.

Taking another bite of her sandwich, she pondered her work and cringed. Now the whole bottom shelf drew attention by gleaming in the artificial light compared to the layers of dust on the rest of the shelves. With no other choice, she set about cleaning not only the whole back shelf, but the one in front of it. By the time she finished, she carried a healthy amount of black grit on her light blue shirt and matching pants. She wouldn't bet her face didn't carry a telling smudge either.

This time, she appraised her work with a nod of approval. If anyone happened down there, they'd think someone had been cleaning and only completed so much before they were called elsewhere. Which just happened to be the truth.

With the weight of worry taken off her shoulders, she returned her supplies to the break room and trotted back upstairs, right on the one hour mark to return from her lunch break.

Chapter 4

The first beginnings of dawn touched the sky like a dainty paintbrush haphazardly laying down strokes of pink, orange, and a midnight blue slowly lightening in tone to robin's egg. As beautiful as the start to any morning, the fiery remains of the drug warehouse provided deep contrast, reminding him of the evil reality in life. Pretty pictures like the sunrise were taken away too soon, the pitch blackness overriding such glorious colors and brightness, covering the world in sheer darkness, wiping away all the day's sunlight and good.

Ghost turned his attention back to the small team of professional mercenaries, noting each one moved with ease, despite their obvious fatigue. For the past several hours, they snuck up with stealth, before rushing in for a fast and furious attack, finally completing their mission and blowing the whole compound to smithereens as morning approached.

Another mission completed with everyone still intact.

More than he could say for that horrible night that still existed in his nightmares. The endless blackness where he, along with other team members, went on a search and rescue mission. Unbeknownst to him, he'd never again emerge in the brilliant daylight. Instead, the same cold bleakness hung on his shoulders each day he carried on.

Once again, he chastised himself, wishing he'd chosen differently, been a better man and husband. Done some things differently.

He should have been there for her, especially after she became pregnant with a much anticipated and wanted child. Stayed with her, turned in his resignation and found a civilian job. That's what husbands did. Protected their loved one with every iota of their being.