Nana?” Cal asked.
“We’ll fill you in later,” Morgan said over her shoulder.
They stopped at a stack of books. She was half expecting Belladonna to be there, pointing at the book with her tail or something, but the cat was nowhere to be seen.
She looked through the stack. The top ones were canvas bound, the books toward the bottom of the stack had leather spines. She carefully moved the books off the top and handed the leather ones out to Fiona, Jolene, Jake and Cal. She took the last one for herself and Celeste bent over her shoulder.
“This one’s dated 1795. Too new.” Cal put the book down gently on the pile.
“This one is too,” Jake said.
“This one is 1717.” Jolene held up a book. The binding was cracked and dusty, the pages thick and rough.
Cal took the book. “It’s a poetry book. Perfect for a cipher key.”
“Do you think that’s the key?”
“It could be. We might as well try it, right?”
Morgan felt a tingle run through her veins. Finding a treasure would be cool, but would that help her find the killer?
She glanced out the attic window at the ocean. It had grown dark and the sea was black, the full moon’s light sparkled on the caps of the waves. There were no boats out there. Yet.
“You guys go ahead and work on deciphering the book,” Morgan said. “I’m going to keep a watch and see if those boats show up again. Maybe I can get a name or registration number. We still need to get a handle on the killer, and I have a funny feeling the closer we get to finding a treasure—if there even is one—the more dangerous it could be for us.”
Morgan caught the look from Celeste. She was almost certain the attack the other day wasn’t a random mugging and from the look her sister was giving her, she felt the same way.
“And everyone please be careful.” Morgan looked around.
These were the people she loved most in the world. Her heart ached at the thought of anything happening to one of them. “If the treasure pirates Jolene told us about are the ones who killed the guy on the cliff, and they’re after pirate treasure on our land, then I’m pretty sure they won’t think twice about killing one of us to get it.”
Chapter Eleven
Morgan jerked awake in the dark, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Was that a noise or a bad dream?
She glanced out the window of the turret room toward the Atlantic. No boats were out there. Looking at her watch, she saw it was 1:45.
And then she heard it again.
It came from the ground floor, smashing glass and loud voices. She was up from her seat in an instant and running downstairs.
She skidded into the living room at the same time as Fiona and Jake. It was pitch black and Morgan could only see shadowy figures. There was a fight going on, but she couldn’t make out exactly who was fighting.
Someone grabbed her arm and she reached behind her, grabbing a thick crystal vase she knew was on the sideboard. She swung it toward her assailant and was rewarded when they let go of her uttering a string of curse words.
The moonlight filtered in through the smashed side window and her eyes strained to adjust to the dark.
She could see men in dark clothing, some with ski masks. Surprisingly, it seemed like they were fighting each other.
How many people were in here?
She glanced around in time to see Celeste’s blonde hair—one of the masked men was reaching for her!
“Celeste! Look out!” Morgan bolted across the room and launched herself at Celeste’s assailant.
He went down in a heap on the floor, Morgan on top of him. She kicked at him as he tried to grab her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone push over the china cabinet with a resounding crash. Broken glass and china spilled out all over the floor. Belladonna ran hissing from the room.
Someone grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back. She squirmed around, clawing at him, trying to get in a good position to inflict some damage but he
“We’ll fill you in later,” Morgan said over her shoulder.
They stopped at a stack of books. She was half expecting Belladonna to be there, pointing at the book with her tail or something, but the cat was nowhere to be seen.
She looked through the stack. The top ones were canvas bound, the books toward the bottom of the stack had leather spines. She carefully moved the books off the top and handed the leather ones out to Fiona, Jolene, Jake and Cal. She took the last one for herself and Celeste bent over her shoulder.
“This one’s dated 1795. Too new.” Cal put the book down gently on the pile.
“This one is too,” Jake said.
“This one is 1717.” Jolene held up a book. The binding was cracked and dusty, the pages thick and rough.
Cal took the book. “It’s a poetry book. Perfect for a cipher key.”
“Do you think that’s the key?”
“It could be. We might as well try it, right?”
Morgan felt a tingle run through her veins. Finding a treasure would be cool, but would that help her find the killer?
She glanced out the attic window at the ocean. It had grown dark and the sea was black, the full moon’s light sparkled on the caps of the waves. There were no boats out there. Yet.
“You guys go ahead and work on deciphering the book,” Morgan said. “I’m going to keep a watch and see if those boats show up again. Maybe I can get a name or registration number. We still need to get a handle on the killer, and I have a funny feeling the closer we get to finding a treasure—if there even is one—the more dangerous it could be for us.”
Morgan caught the look from Celeste. She was almost certain the attack the other day wasn’t a random mugging and from the look her sister was giving her, she felt the same way.
“And everyone please be careful.” Morgan looked around.
These were the people she loved most in the world. Her heart ached at the thought of anything happening to one of them. “If the treasure pirates Jolene told us about are the ones who killed the guy on the cliff, and they’re after pirate treasure on our land, then I’m pretty sure they won’t think twice about killing one of us to get it.”
Chapter Eleven
Morgan jerked awake in the dark, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Was that a noise or a bad dream?
She glanced out the window of the turret room toward the Atlantic. No boats were out there. Looking at her watch, she saw it was 1:45.
And then she heard it again.
It came from the ground floor, smashing glass and loud voices. She was up from her seat in an instant and running downstairs.
She skidded into the living room at the same time as Fiona and Jake. It was pitch black and Morgan could only see shadowy figures. There was a fight going on, but she couldn’t make out exactly who was fighting.
Someone grabbed her arm and she reached behind her, grabbing a thick crystal vase she knew was on the sideboard. She swung it toward her assailant and was rewarded when they let go of her uttering a string of curse words.
The moonlight filtered in through the smashed side window and her eyes strained to adjust to the dark.
She could see men in dark clothing, some with ski masks. Surprisingly, it seemed like they were fighting each other.
How many people were in here?
She glanced around in time to see Celeste’s blonde hair—one of the masked men was reaching for her!
“Celeste! Look out!” Morgan bolted across the room and launched herself at Celeste’s assailant.
He went down in a heap on the floor, Morgan on top of him. She kicked at him as he tried to grab her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone push over the china cabinet with a resounding crash. Broken glass and china spilled out all over the floor. Belladonna ran hissing from the room.
Someone grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back. She squirmed around, clawing at him, trying to get in a good position to inflict some damage but he
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