Booty Bones: A Sarah Booth Delaney Mystery (36 page)

27

When we arrived at the old fort, stars still spattered the night sky, but the herald of dawn was lightening the east. Any moment, the sun would peek over the horizon.

“Ready?” I asked Angela. She held the stolen spyglass, ready to sweep the horizon at first light. We’d placed John’s aquatic painting over the nautical map and found the placement of the shoreline of Dauphin Island when Couteau was alive. We were ready for sunrise. Ready to prove our hypothesis that the angle of the sun and the mark on the spyglass would yield the watery grave of the treasure.

The sun began to chase the night away, and Saturday morning dawned clear and calm. Hurricane Margene had defied all predictions, rushed to make landfall hours earlier then predicted, and finally cleared out leaving minimal damage. Now, fall was in the air. Angela swept the horizon with the telescope while Tinkie and I watched. Our job was over. Phyllis Norris was behind bars. Benson, too. Remy’s body was discovered tied to the anchor of his own sailboat and sunk underwater. He’d thrown in with Phyllis and Benson to rob John Trotter, and they’d killed him and his sister in an elaborate frame to put Angela and Randy behind bars. Now Randy and other officers were working to dismantle the corrupt law-enforcement machine the sheriff had built up over two decades.

Once Angela went back to work as a journalist, I felt sure other heads would roll. There would be a clean house, at least in Mobile County. At least until a new crop of crooks could organize and move in.

“What do you see?” Tinkie was almost jumping up and down, a perfect imitation of Chablis, who had a tendency to hide her intelligence by acting hyper.

“Wait a minute. The sun has to have the correct angle.” Angela was surprisingly calm as she fiddled with nautical implements. She’d taken a crash course from her friend and former postman, Terrance Snill.

“What will you do with the treasure, if there is one?” I asked.

“I’m going to help Larry pay his debts and compensate his attorney and donate the rest to Project Innocence. That organization takes on cases where people have been falsely convicted.”

“Nothing for yourself?”

The masculine voice made my heart drop—Graf was gone, but I still hadn’t accepted it—but it was only Snill, come to help us with the last of the treasure hunt.

“I have everything I need. Or I will when Larry is released.” Angela’s grin changed her whole personality. “It should be soon. And they’ll clear his record. You know, he isn’t bitter at all. He said going to prison saved him from drinking his life away.”

“Larry’s a wise man to take all of this as an opportunity,” Tinkie said. “
I
took it as an opportunity to increase my valuable antique collection, thanks to Mr. Snill.” She looped her arm through his. “What’s in your hand? A love letter to me?”

My partner was full of herself—an obvious overcompensation because I was suffering the loss of Graf. She frisked and flaunted to keep the atmosphere lively as we waited for Angela to discover whatever she would find.

“It’s some research for Sarah Booth. About that slave girl, LuAnn.” He handed the paper to me, though it was too dark inside the fort to read it.

“She was sold to Alabama and later sold again to a plantation in Mississippi. She had a little girl, who I believe ended up being sold to a Delaney of Sunflower County.”

A chill swept through the little dark room. Each of us felt it, and we all reacted. “What was that?” Angela asked.

I knew exactly who had graced us, but I couldn’t say. “What happened to LuAnn?” I asked.

“She died in childbirth. The little girl, her name was—”

“Jitty.” I could feel her in the room. So this was what she’d wanted me to find out. History. The daughter of a stolen princess. The daughter of a pirate. A child who lost her parents much earlier than I had lost mine. No wonder Jitty and I had such a strong bond.

“How did you know that, Sarah Booth?” Tinkie shot me one long, suspicious look.

“I don’t know.” I feigned innocence. “Maybe Madame Tomeeka isn’t the only psychic in Zinnia.”

“So does Jitty tell you secrets when you talk to her?”

I had to improvise and quickly. Once my partner was on a scent, she didn’t let go. “I read about the little girl in some of Alice’s letters in the attic. When I was researching the whole history of the Richmonds and Falcons. Jitty was bought from another plantation to be a playmate for Alice’s older sister, who later died of rheumatic fever.”

“Isn’t that a strange coincidence? It’s almost as if you were led here to Dauphin Island,” Angela mused.

I didn’t mention the fact that when I was looking for a place for Graf to recuperate, I’d walked away from my computer, only to find the Dauphin Island Web site had been pulled up when I returned. Jitty had no corporeal powers—at least I didn’t think so.

“Everything happens for a reason,” Snill said. “Now the bad guys and gal are behind bars, Randy Chavis is going to be acting chief deputy until the governor can appoint a sheriff, and I have found a buyer for the
Miss Adventure
. Let’s see if we can find the treasure before life blows up again.”

“Look!” Angela focused out the window with the spyglass. “I see where it would be. That’s where Dad indicated the shore used to be back in the day of Couteau.”

Snill took the glass from her. “By damn, that would have been the perfect place to bring a treasure almost to shore and sink it, except for the damage done by hurricanes in recent years. Katrina cut the westernmost tip off the island, and Isaac came close to severing another part. Couteau couldn’t possibly have foreseen the damage that man and nature could do to his paradise. So he sneaked the treasure close to the shore. I’m sure he meant to retrieve it. And he marked the spyglass so that it could be matched with the message. What a brilliant man!”

“Let’s take the
Miss Adventure
,” Angela said. “I’m a certified diver. I can see if there’s anything hidden. If there is, we can make the necessary plans to bring it up.”

“What fun!” Tinkie all but clapped her hands. She was ready for another adventure at sea. You could knock my partner down, but you couldn’t keep her on the floor. I was a different kettle of fish.

“Y’all treasure hunt as much as you want. I’ll stay here with Sweetie and Pluto.” I’d had enough sailboats to last me the rest of my life. I had no intention of ever putting foot on another one.

“Are you sure?” Tinkie asked. “She shouldn’t be alone.” She spoke to the group.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m fine. I’m not going to hurl myself off the parapets of the fort. Even if I did, it’s not much of a drop.” My efforts brought forth some smiles. “I really don’t want to climb aboard a boat for a long, long time.”

“I understand that.” Angela patted my arm. “We’ll be back in an hour.”

“I’m walking to town,” I said. Graf had taken the SUV when he left, but I had a ride to New Orleans with Tinkie, who would take me back to Dahlia House after the ball.

For now, I wanted solitude so that I could tell the island—and many of my dreams—good-bye. It was going to be a crystal-clear October morning. The last of the month. The beginning of a new life for me. “I need to be alone, and walking helps me think.”

“Meet us at the marina,” Tinkie said.

“Will do.”

They hurried away from the old fort, and I took one last walk around the fortress that had seen so much heartbreak and conflict.

Hurricane Margene had blown through without much damage. The power was already restored. No lives and little property were lost. The rhythm of normal island life resumed. Not so true for me.

Sweetie fell in beside me as I walked. We rounded a corner, and she began to bark. I wasn’t surprised when I came upon the figure of a slender woman in a black tasseled cowgirl outfit, complete with black shiny boots and a black cowboy hat with a veil. Cowgirl widow.

“Dale? Dale Evans, is that you?” The woman looked just like the wife of my favorite childhood cowboy, Roy Rogers.

“Not Dale Evans, but another singin’ widow.”

My brain was in no condition for Jitty’s high jinks. “Spill it. Who are you?”

“I’m a faux widow.” She spoke with a Southern drawl. “I wasn’t really married to Hank when he died. Fact is, he’d married that Billie Jean Jones. I paid her thirty thousand dollars, which was a right smart amount of money at the time, for her to quit callin’ herself his widow. That title was rightfully mine.”

“Another hint, please.” I could almost place her.

“Nicknamed my son Bocephus.”

“Miss Audrey!” I had her. Wife of Hank Williams Sr.

“If we’d stayed married, I might have kept him from the bottle.”

Given what I knew of her life, I didn’t think that was an accurate prediction, but who was I to question a ghost. “It must’ve been fun, traveling and singing with the Drifting Cowboys.”

“We didn’t have air-conditioned tour buses and fancy hotel rooms. Hank loved the music. That’s what kept us on tour.”

“Why are you here, Jitty? I know who you are. I know your history.”

“I’m here for you, Sarah Booth. Married, divorced—it doesn’t matter if you love a man. You’ll grieve for him when he’s gone.”

I couldn’t discuss Graf with her. Not yet. I’d rather she goad and torment me than offer widow’s weeds and condolences. “We’re each set upon a path. For a time, Graf’s and mine ran parallel. Now they don’t.” I fought to maintain my calm. “Thank you for letting me see your past, your royal highness.” If I teased her, I wouldn’t cry.

“In another country, at another time, I would have had a very different life.”

“Instead, you worked and fought for survival at the side of a woman whose family paid cash for you. I’m sorry, Jitty.”

“Truth is, Sarah Booth, the Delaney family gave me a childhood. And my best friend, Miss Alice. That wasn’t true for a lot of slaves, but for me, I had a real family. My mama and daddy were dead and gone. Wasn’t no bringin’ them back. But having Miss Alice and her family, and later Coker, that was a good life.”

“Did you know you were a pirate’s daughter?”

“Not for many years. Alice told me one day when we were in the field digging for potatoes. We were about to starve, and she took my mind off my growling stomach by telling me the story of Armand and LuAnn. Of course, she spiced it up and made it a lot more romantic. Accordin’ to Miss Alice, their love woulda overcome all obstacles, had Armand lived.”

“And maybe it would have.”

“Yes, maybe it would.” Jitty was so sad. We were both missing things that could never be returned to us. “So what will you do now, Sarah Booth?”

It was a question I dreaded. “Go to New Orleans and attend the Black and Orange Ball. I owe Cece that much. And Tinkie. She would miss it for me, but I won’t ask that. Then I’ll go home to Dahlia House. After that…” I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Can you forgive Graf?”

“What’s to forgive? He has a child. We both agree Katlyn is his first priority. It’s strange how life changes so drastically in one moment. The split second my parents died, that shift in consciousness when Graf learned he was a father. It’s like the twist of a kaleidoscope. A completely different picture from one moment to the next.”

“Some women wouldn’t be so philosophical about it.”

I knew what she meant, but what was the point of anger? It wouldn’t change the facts or the way I’d learned about them. “This wasn’t some trap Graf set or some scheme he cooked up. He was sandbagged as much as I was. I only wish he’d told me sooner.”

“Speaking the hard truth has never been a man’s strong suit.” She laughed. “He did come to save you. I know he loves you.”

I thought about Coleman Peters, who had also loved me. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”

“And sometimes it’s just the right amount.” She laughed. “Let’s stroll into town. You done good on this case. Freed an innocent man and put two criminals behind bars.”

“Lost a fiancé and gained a royal haint.” I patted my leg, and Sweetie fell into step. Pluto, always an aristocrat, sashayed in front of us. “I have to call the wedding officiant and cancel the wedding.”

“Probably a good thing to do.” Jitty fell into step beside me. “I’ll walk a ways with you, Sarah Booth. Just for the company.”

For those who couldn’t see Jitty, I was just another crazy cat/dog lady ambling along the beach. Maybe, in my heart, that was who I needed to be for the moment.

*   *   *

“You look absolutely marvelous, dah-link!” Cece walked around me, pulling at the beautiful black and orange gown that Graf had found for me on Rodeo Drive. She tugged a strap and tucked a stray curl into place, straightening the black opal necklace that she insisted I wear “for luck.”

We were in the lovely hotel suite Cece had arranged for us. The Black and Orange Ball was almost upon us. My most personal wish was to be left alone so I could have a good crying fit, but that would have to wait.

“You do look stunning,” Tinkie said. Even with her five-inch stilettos, she only came to my chest.

“And both of you are gorgeous.” They were. Cece had imported a gown from a chic New York designer, and Tinkie’s dress was made by Sunflower County’s finest seamstress, a woman whose creations rivaled any designer in the world.

“Now tell me again what Angela found at the bottom of the ocean?” Cece was like a child when it came to pirate’s treasure.

“Spanish gold, diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and silver. Estimated at approximately ten million. She’s a wealthy woman.” Tinkie checked it off on her fingers. “Can you believe it? Her father was right all along.”

“And she managed to bring the treasure up, with Snill’s and Commissioner Roundtree’s help, without a big hullabaloo. The delicate ecology of Dauphin Island is safe, at least for now.” That was the part I was proud of. Angela had done the impossible and kept a low profile about the treasure.

“Can you say ironic,” Tinkie said. “Phyllis killed to keep the treasure secret, and Angela managed to bring it up without a single person catching on. She’ll never tell where she found it.”

“Is she really donating it to the legal fund to help people falsely accused?” Cece was itching to cover the story.