Chapter Fifteen
Isaac grabbed Christian’s arm and tugged him toward the front of the room. “We need to get back to the ship right away.”
His friend didn’t miss a beat, falling in step next to him. “What’s happened?”
“Thorne just paid me a visit in the garden.”
Christian’s gaze flew to the open verandah doors, his hands closing into fists. “Here? That’s bold. What happened?”
“He tried to warn me off the hunt. Gave me the same spiel about joining him as he did you.”
Christian snorted. “As if you would listen.”
Samantha frowned next to him. “It doesn’t make sense, risking all that just to tell you something he knew you’d never agree to. What if it’s a trap?”
Miss Montclair shifted at his side and he could almost feel the weight of her accusing gaze.
I could use your help.
Thorne’s words rang through Isaac’s head.
“I think, whatever he’s looking for, he needs someone on the inside.
Someone who could get access to the archives he wasn’t able to steal.
I wonder if he’s sailing to Washington?” A new certainty buzzed through him.
“I think we need to take a closer look at the archives from the year your mother died.”
Christian shook his head, his eyes flicking to Miss Montclair and back. “Would be a waste of time. It was the first place I went after Thorne escaped. Nothing in the records stood out as suspicious. Not to mention, I’m sure Thorne has seen all of it. He’s had years to find a way to see them.”
Isaac clenched his jaw. “There must be something we’re missing.”
The wagon sat ready and waiting for them, and within moments, they sped off.
Silence stretched thick and oppressive between the group as they bumped along the cobblestones.
The hairs on Isaac’s neck lifted, a tingle of warning he couldn’t shake.
He scanned the darkened road ahead of them, his hand hovering above his sword.
As they approached the docks, Christian cleared his throat.
“Why don’t you sail ahead of us? Samantha and I will stay and finish interviewing the survivors.
One of the men in charge of the archives was badly wounded and is recovering in the countryside.
He’ll know more about the contents. If we can find out what Thorne is looking for, it will narrow the search. ”
Isaac nodded. As always, Christian was one step ahead in his reasoning. “It may also throw him off if only one of us follows him, perhaps it will make him bolder.”
Christian nodded. “We’ll be less than a day behind you.”
The wagon rumbled to a stop and Isaac swung to the ground. He helped Miss Montclair down and offered her his arm while they waited for Christian and Samantha to come around from the other side. A cough came from behind them and he spun.
A man stumbled their way, waving his hand.
Isaac frowned at his tattered clothing and unkempt hair.
A beggar, from the looks of it. Sunburned and blistered, a wild look blazed in his eyes.
Miss Montclair took a half-step back, and Isaac set a steadying hand on her elbow.
His other eased around the hilt of his sword.
“Are you Lieutenant Caldwell?” The man’s words came out weak and hoarse.
Isaac nodded, his grip tightening on his weapon. “Are you in need of assistance?”
The man stepped forward, into the light of the nearest lantern and Isaac’s eyes widened. The torn and filthy jacket the man wore was a navy issued one.
“My God, sailor, what’s happened?” His hand left his sword and he strode to meet the man as he fell to his knees. Christian hurried to the sailor’s other side and they helped him back to his feet.
“Able seaman James Burke, sir, of the USS Reliant.”
The ship Thorne had sunk. Nearly a week ago.
“Where have you been all this time?”
“I’ve been adrift at sea, clinging to a piece of wreckage. I thought I was on my last breath—thought I was hallucinating—when I saw a fishing boat coming my way. They rescued me and brought me here. Told me the Navy had arrived.”
He’d been floating for almost a week. A true miracle he’d survived. “Christian, hurry and fetch a doctor.”
They stood in silence while Christian drove the wagon away.
Samantha bent to one knee, adjusting her slipper.
All a ruse. If he knew her, she had her fingers wrapped around the hilt of that fancy little dagger she kept there.
Once a pirate, always a pirate. She lifted a brow at his perusal and he turned his attention back to the shipwrecked sailor.
She didn’t have to worry. He could take this man down blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back. “What can I do to ease your discomfort? Have you been offered food? Water?”
With a nervous glance between the two women, the sailor cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “There’s more I must tell you. As we sailed into the harbor, I saw the very ship that attacked us sail away.”
Isaac exhaled. “Not surprising. We had an encounter with him less than an hour ago.”
“I know where he sails.”
Isaac gave a curt nod. “He sails north.”
The man’s eyes blazed in the lantern light. “He sails to Norfolk.”
“Norfolk?” The hairs on Isaac’s arm prickled. “How do you know?” Not a single man they had interviewed had been able to give them any clues pointing to Thorne’s next destination.
“When he brought the last of the crates onboard, I heard him say to one of his thugs that even if it wasn’t there, they would still go to Norfolk.”
Straight into the hornet’s nest. Home of the Norfolk Navy Yard, a key naval base, entering the city would be a death wish for the pirate.
Only one reason would drive him there. He was going after someone in the navy.
Isaac’s chest constricted. Could someone in uniform have had a hand in Mrs. Thompson’s death?
Isaac shook his head. No. There had to be some other reason. It had to be why Thorne had tried to get him to join his crew. He would have been a great asset to gain access to information guarded by the base. It made the most sense.
“Let me join your crew.”
Isaac jerked his attention back to the man. “You need medical attention; a ship is no place for you right now, Burke. Don’t worry, I’m leaving immediately and have plenty of men fit and ready to fight.”
The seaman lunged forward and grabbed Isaac’s forearm. “You must let me. I thirst for justice for the crewmates I lost. I’m willing and able. Besides, I know what his ship looks like. I’ve got the image seared on my brain. I’ll be able to spot it a mile away, far before any of your crew could.”
Isaac wavered, weighing the advantage the man could offer and the sailor smiled. “Besides, I trust the doctoring I’ll get onboard much more than anything on shore.”
Spoken like a true navy man. “Alright. But you will take a bunk in the sick bay and stay there for the duration of the trip to recover. If there’s any fighting, you will stay out of it.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“Lieutenant, is that you?” Silas’s voice came from down the dock.
Isaac waved, thankful for his first officer’s sharp eye. “We require assistance.” He turned to the sailor. “My first officer will take you onto the Tempest and get you situated. We will be sailing immediately.”
Once they walked away, Samantha stood. He met her worried gaze. “Did you catch all that?”
She nodded.
“He’s looking for something in Norfolk. Probably something guarded by the Yard. That’s where the ship he sank had sailed from. My guess is he was hoping it would be in the archived records. See if the man he interviews tomorrow knows anything about what that could be.”
They made their way to the Siren. At the gangway, Samantha turned. “I don’t think it’s smart to allow that man to join your crew. Something seemed off about him.”
He gave her a tight smile. “He’s suffered a heavy ordeal. People aren’t themselves after going through that sort of thing, as you well know.”
Her blue eyes flashed but she did not push the issue. “Keep your guard up. We will see you tomorrow. Hopefully sooner than later.”
Miss Montclair shifted at his side when Samantha started up the gangway, slender fingertips brushing his forearm. “If you don’t mind, I need to have a private word with the lieutenant.”
Samantha turned and a soft smile played across her lips. “I’ll wait on deck.”
Miss Montclair stood still and silent in the lantern light, her brows furrowed, eyes flitting side to side as she worked through something in her head. One hand lifted, playing with the yellow ribbon descending into her neckline, while the other slipped into a pocket in her skirts.
“There’s something I need to show you.”
She pulled a folded piece of parchment free and handed it to him. His own brows pressed together as he scanned the drawing. “What’s this—” His eyes darted to where her fingers still hovered at her chest. “Your key.”
She nodded and pulled it free, moonlight reflecting from the ivory skull. He reached for it, warmth flooding through his fingers from where it had rested against her skin. It matched the drawing on the page perfectly.
He frowned as he read the scrawled notes and recognized the handwriting. “This is Christian’s. Why do you have it?”
She cleared her throat. “I borrowed it. I’ll give it back.”
“You can’t be going through his things.”
This time her voice came quiet. “I know. When I saw the sketch matched my key, I couldn’t help it.”
He sighed and lifted his gaze to meet hers. “You think this has something to do with why Thorne is going to Norfolk?”
“It has to. He recognized it as soon as he saw it. And I could tell he wanted it in a bad way.”
He nodded, turning the key over in his hand. What the hell could it be to? The carving had been done with expert craftsmanship, edges still crisp and sharp. It wasn’t an antique, yet she’d told Thorne she’d had it a long time.
“Where did you get this?”
“I won it off a pirate.”