Chapter 9
T he artifacts lay carefully arranged on a clean white cloth. Dr. Eleanor Reyes adjusted her glasses, bending closer to examine the tarnished Spanish coin. Her hands, steady and precise, held a magnifying loupe over the surface, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
Isabelle stood against the far wall, arms crossed, deliberately giving the professor space.
Gretchen sat perched on the edge of a folding chair, leg bouncing with barely contained energy, while Phineas Whitaker had settled himself in the corner, his weathered hands resting on his cane, watching the proceedings with bright, attentive eyes.
The trailer was quiet except for the occasional scratch of Dr. Reyes's pencil on her notepad and the distant sounds of construction that had been temporarily moved to the opposite side of the property—Isabelle's orders, to give the archaeologist an undisturbed environment in which to work.
"Fascinating," Dr. Reyes murmured, setting down the coin and reaching for the pottery fragment. "Absolutely fascinating."
Gretchen shot Isabelle an excited glance, but remained silent, honoring their agreement not to pepper the archaeologist with questions until she had completed her initial examination.
Outside, a car door slammed with unnecessary force. Footsteps approached the trailer, followed by a sharp knock that managed to convey indignation even through the metal door.
Isabelle sighed, recognizing the distinctive cadence. She stepped to the door and opened it just enough to block the entrance with her body.
"Linda," she said with firm politeness. "Good morning."
Linda St. James stood on the metal step, clipboard in hand, sunglasses pushed up to rest atop her perfectly coiffed hair. Behind her, Marco Bernal was approaching with an apologetic expression.
"I tried to catch her at the coffee shop," he said with a helpless shrug. "But she saw my car here and?—"
"I'm here for the authentication meeting," Linda interrupted, attempting to peer around Isabelle's shoulder. "As we discussed, this is a matter of significant public interest. The Chronicle readers will expect comprehensive coverage."
"We discussed no such thing," Isabelle replied calmly. "In fact, Dr. Reyes specifically requested minimal distraction during her initial assessment. We're honoring that request."
Linda's expression tightened. "Isabelle, surely you understand the historical significance extends beyond your commercial interests. The public has a right?—"
"The public will have access to all appropriate information," Isabelle cut in, her French accent becoming slightly more pronounced as it always did when she was exercising restraint.
"After Dr. Reyes has completed her work without an audience.
I can arrange for you to interview her afterward if she's willing. "
"This is completely unacceptable," Linda bristled. "I've been covering this story from the beginning. I'm the one who brought Phineas in, who recognized the potential historical significance. And now you're excluding me from the most crucial development?"
Marco stepped forward. "Linda, perhaps we could wait at the coffee stand over on Seacrest? Dr. Reyes typically spends about two hours on initial authentication. We could return around eleven?"
Linda's mouth compressed into a thin line. "I see how it is. Private interests superseding public knowledge. I might have expected this from newcomers to the island." Her gaze flicked meaningfully to Isabelle. "But I'm disappointed in you, Marco. Your family has been here for generations."
Marco remained unruffled by the attempted guilt trip. "Which is precisely why I respect the proper archaeological process. Authentication first, public dissemination second."
Isabelle nodded gratefully to Marco before turning back to Linda. "I am not a newcomer as you have described me, however, I promise you'll be the first to receive the findings—once they're properly verified. You have my word."
For a moment, it seemed Linda might continue to protest, but something in Isabelle's steady gaze must have convinced her of the futility. With a huff, she turned on her heel.
"Eleven o'clock sharp," she called over her shoulder. "And I expect exclusive access to Dr. Reyes before anyone else speaks to her."
As Linda marched back toward her car, Marco lingered a moment longer. "Sorry about that. She cornered me at Captiva Coffee and followed me here."
"Not your fault," Isabelle assured him. "Thank you for trying."
"She's not entirely wrong, you know," Marco said quietly. "These finds do belong to the island's collective history in many ways."
"I know that," Isabelle acknowledged. "But first things first. Whatever the island’s rights, they still would have to be coordinated with the proper experts on this matter."
Marco nodded understanding. "I'll keep her occupied until eleven."
"You're a saint." Isabelle smiled gratefully.
"Hardly." Marco chuckled. "Just a man who knows Linda will get her story one way or another. Better to manage the process than fight it entirely."
As Marco departed to play interference with Linda, Isabelle returned inside the trailer where Dr. Reyes had moved on to the leather-bound ledger, gingerly turning its brittle pages with a gloved hand.
"Problem?" Gretchen asked quietly.
"Nothing unexpected," Isabelle replied. "Just Linda being Linda."
Phineas snorted softly from his corner. "That woman hasn't changed in thirty years. Same bulldog persistence, same conviction that every island matter is her personal jurisdiction."
Dr. Reyes looked up from her examination, a hint of amusement in her dark eyes. "Ah, the joys of small community politics. Some things are universal, whether it's a remote village in Peru or a Florida island."
"You have no idea," Gretchen muttered.
"Actually, I do," Dr. Reyes countered good-naturedly. "Archaeological finds often become focal points for competing interests. Academic institutions, local governments, private landowners, indigenous communities, the media—everyone feels they have a legitimate claim."
"And who does have the legitimate claim in this case?" Isabelle asked, moving closer to the table.
Dr. Reyes set down her pencil and removed her gloves with deliberate care. "That's a complicated question with both legal and ethical dimensions. But before we get to that, I imagine you'd like to know what you've actually found?"
"Yes, please," Gretchen said eagerly, leaning forward.
Dr. Reyes gestured to the artifacts spread before her. "Based on my preliminary examination, you have an authentic collection of historically significant items spanning multiple periods of Captiva's past."
She picked up the pottery shard first. "This is genuine Calusa pottery, likely from the late period of their civilization, approximately 1500-1700 CE. The zigzag pattern is characteristic of their decorative approach, and the clay composition is consistent with known Calusa production methods."
Phineas nodded in quiet satisfaction from his corner, as if his own assessment had been confirmed.
"The Spanish coin," Dr. Reyes continued, indicating it without touching, "is a silver real from the reign of Charles III, minted between 1760 and 1788. It shows significant wear, suggesting it was in circulation for some time before ending up here."
"And the ledger?" Isabelle asked, drawn to the small book that seemed to hold so many stories within its pages.
"Ah, the ledger is particularly interesting.
" Dr. Reyes's eyes lit up. "It appears to be a record book from the general store that occupied this site in the late 19th century.
The entries begin in 1889 and continue through 1896.
They detail purchases, trades, and accounts for local residents and businesses. "
"So these items span hundreds of years of island history," Gretchen marveled. "From the Calusa to the Spanish explorers to the pioneer settlers."
"Precisely," Dr. Reyes confirmed. "Which raises interesting questions about how they came to be together beneath your floorboards."
"Is that unusual?" Isabelle asked.
"It suggests this specific location has been a site of continuous human activity and significance across multiple cultural periods," Dr. Reyes explained.
"The Calusa piece could have been collected by a later settler as a curiosity, or it might indicate this spot was once a Calusa dwelling site.
The Spanish coin could have arrived through trade networks or with settlers who had connections to Spanish territories. "
Phineas leaned forward, his eyes bright with interest. "I've always maintained that this building sits on what was once a Calusa shell mound. The elevation is slightly higher than surrounding areas, typical of their construction."
Dr. Reyes nodded thoughtfully. "That's entirely possible. The Calusa were sophisticated engineers, creating elevated platforms for their structures using shell material. Later settlers often built upon these mounds, recognizing their advantages for drainage and stability."
"So what happens now?" Gretchen asked, voicing the question that hung in the air. "With the artifacts, I mean."
Dr. Reyes sat back, considering them both carefully.
"That depends on what you want to happen.
Legally, items found on private property during renovation generally belong to the property owner, though there are exceptions for items of significant archaeological importance, particularly those related to indigenous cultures. "
"We don't want to do anything inappropriate," Isabelle said firmly. "These items have cultural and historical significance beyond our business interests."
"I appreciate that perspective." Dr. Reyes smiled. "It's refreshingly respectful. Many property owners would simply claim ownership without consideration."
"What would you recommend?" Isabelle asked.