22. Twenty-Two
What was she going to do now? Camilla slogged her way back onto her grandfather’s limping boat. Even with Daniel’s fee and the money Mr. Copeland owed her, she’d never be able to afford the kind of repairs they were going to need. Not to mention what it would cost to haul the boat to shore. Assuming she didn’t sink in the process.
Solomon gripped her shoulder when their boots hit the deck. His eyes said everything, but he splayed his fingers and touched his chin twice anyway.
Mama’s.
Her heart pinched.
Keeping her gaze, he created a pitched roof with his fingers.
Mama’s house.
He was offering for them to stay in Hattie’s house. She hadn’t been there since the day she’d found out Papa had died.
Hattie would have swaddled her in grandmotherly love and allowed the grief to flood the moors. Perhaps even giving that heartache a chance to settle rather than constantly beat against its bindings in her heart. But she’d been too consumed with surviving to slow down to grieve and too stubborn to admit having others help her would have been nice.
Camilla forced herself to swallow down the thickness in her throat and nodded. It would be a safe place to store their belongings and Papa’s things and clear off Alma May until they could figure out what to do next.
And she was tired of letting her pride get in her way.
But where would they all sleep? Hattie’s house was small, and neither of them could stay in such cramped quarters with three men. Even ones like family.
Finn scurried to her, hat clutched between reddened fingers. “Captain, the damage is…” His gaze darted to Solomon, who tipped his chin.
“I know, Finn. It’s all right.” No reason to make him say it.
“We’re patching her up best we can. But we started gathering our things too.” He scuffled his feet. “Just in case you wanted to head to shore.”
Her stomach tripped. Of course, she needed to send her men to safety. Anything could happen while they were stuck on this sandbar. She scoured around in her depths until she located a modicum of courage and drew herself up.
“Load everything on the skimmer and get it to shore. Then bring me something to pack Papa’s books in. We’ll unload everything, and then you three will take it to Hattie’s house for safekeeping.”
Solomon crossed his arms, but she avoided his gaze. He would only say she had to come with them. Finn didn’t move, words forming on his lips but not coming free.
She smacked her palms together. “Get moving, crewman! We don’t have much time.”
He ducked his head and hurried to do her bidding. She chided herself for being rude. But she was captain, and right now, she needed her men following her orders.
Not staring at her with pity.
She marched up the stairs to retrieve Lula from Papa’s office. Then she’d need to find her valise and pack her few personal items. The most difficult project would be removing the books and contents of Papa’s desk. But she couldn’t risk keeping anything on board she’d need to protect from thieves.
The cabin door stood open, but Lula didn’t bound out at the sound of Camilla’s footsteps. Her breath snatched. Had she been injured in the collision?
She bolted inside to find Daniel behind Papa’s desk with Lula draped over his arm. He stared down at something in his other hand, forehead etched with deep grooves.
Lula flicked her ears at Camilla’s approach but didn’t scramble to get down. She appeared unharmed.
“Is Lula hurt?”
Her words snatched Daniel’s gaze from his palm to slam into hers with emerald fire. The intensity sent her back a step.
“What’s wrong?”
“Where did you get this?” His voice held an edge she’d not heard from him before.
“Get what?”
He flipped his wrist and showed her a golden coin pinched between his fingers. She squinted and stepped closer.
“Is that a twenty-dollar coin?” Where had he gotten that? And why did he show it to her with such animosity?
His gaze narrowed. “It’s a gold coin from 1861.”
“War-era gold?” Despite their situation, excitement stirred. “Is it from your treasure? Where did you find it? Twenty dollars! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
He clutched the coin in his palm. “I found it here.”
The words hung between them before landing with a punch. “Where?”
“On the floor. The drawer must have come open when we hit the sandbar.” A sliver of hardness left his voice.
“Wait. You thought I knew about that and was hiding it from you.” She planted her hands on her hips. “You distrusted me so easily?”
His cheeks had the decency to redden.
“It seemed rather suspicious.”
“And what possible reason would I have for keeping any clues from you? When you hired me for the job and when you promised twenty percent of the cut if I proved vital in finding it?”
He pressed his lips into a line.
She pointed a finger at him. “Have I given you any cause to immediately pin me with guilt?”
His chest expanded with a breath, and Lula squirmed. He placed the dog on the ground, and she hurried to Camilla. She bent and scooped the dog into her arms, and the comfort of soft fur and something to hold calmed a little of the fizzling in her nerves.
“My father is dead.” The words seemed to scrape from his throat. “And your father has a piece of the gold they went to find.”
Buzzing started in her chest and thrummed through her ears. “Are you implying he and Papa found the treasure, and then Papa took it all for himself?”
“It’s possible that—”
“That what?” The words snapped from her lips. “They found a treasure, and Papa killed Mr. Dixon, then ran off with one gold piece, stashed it on the boat, and left again to get himself shot and killed and dumped at the riverbank?”
Daniel seamed his lips.
How dare he? What right did he have to go through Papa’s things or fling accusations or not trust her or think Papa would ever do something so awful?
But why did Papa hide twenty dollars we could have used?
She shoved the thought aside and continued her deadlock of unwavering resolve against Mr. Gray.
“Captain! We got—” Buck darted into the room and shattered the stalemate. He paused in the doorway. His gaze jumped between her and Daniel before he cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but we got company. Might be trouble.”
Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?
Camilla stiffened her shoulders and spun on her heel. She’d deal with Daniel and his suspicions later. Right now, she had a boat to save, trouble to conquer, and a heart to shield.
Ice settled in Daniel’s stomach and pulsed in numbing waves through his fingers. He closed his eyes to settle his senses. She was right. He’d cast immediate suspicion upon her. Or at least her father.
But hidden evidence didn’t speak of innocence. Something bad had happened that night. And Captain Paul Lockhart harbored proof of the lost gold.
Perhaps.
What if he had come across this coin from somewhere else? Had used it to know what type of coin he was looking for? Or what if Father had found a small stash of the coins and it convinced him there must be more? What if he’d given this coin to Captain Paul Lockhart as payment toward his fee?
As more arguments he imagined an opposing counsel might ask volleyed through him, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
He should have thought of all these things and approached Camilla with questions, not accusations. Though he’d never actually accused her of anything. He’d simply asked where she’d gotten the gold. If in a somewhat cynical manner.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stalked from the room and down the stairs to see what trouble had found them now.
A willowy man with a low cap over his umber hair stood on the deck. He offered a hand to shake Solomon’s. Daniel paused on the last stair. Did they know this man? Where had he come from? He didn’t see another boat anchored nearby.
Dressed in a suit displaying moderate wealth, the newcomer offered Camilla a slight bow before assessing eyes skimmed over the deck. When his gaze landed on Daniel, a hint of recognition sparked. Then he returned his focus to the captain.
Did he know this man?
No, he hadn’t met this fellow before. He would have remembered. He looked the type Camilla had called slick as an eel.
As though to punctuate his point, Lula let out a throaty growl.
The captain might be put out with him, but he strode forward to join the conversation anyway.
Solomon stepped to the side to give him room, though Camilla ignored him while she jostled the dog to shush her. Solomon made a gesture by placing one fist, thumb up, on his open palm and lifting both. It’d be nice to know what that meant. Daniel tilted his head to indicate his confusion, and Solomon cut a sidelong glance at the man while not moving his head.
Something to do with this man. He understood that much. But what? Did Solomon mean he distrusted the fellow? If so, Daniel felt the same.
Lula continued to growl, then let out a bark in defiance of Camilla’s command to hush.
“As I was saying.” A slight British accent underlined his voice. As though he’d been raised in England but had been away for some time. “Saw you blokes ran into some trouble. My men can get this vessel towed to our repair shop for you.”
“And why would you do that?” Camilla’s eyes flashed. She moved Lula away from the man and held her out toward Buck.
The older man scrambled forward and accepted the growling dog who succumbed to a fit of barking. Then he retreated with her to the deck behind the engine room.
Camilla must be even more distressed than he’d realized. He’d never seen her speak to anyone with such venom. Not even the unsavory Mr. Liles, the dockmaster who’d wanted her out of Natchez. At least he knew she wouldn’t be hoodwinked into taking unscrupulous deals. She was far too clever.
“Business, of course.” The man splayed long fingers.
Camilla’s shoulders drooped, the poison of her earlier words draining away. “Thank you for the offer, but we’ll need to make other arrangements.”
“I’m willing to barter if finances are what’s making you hesitate.” He sucked his teeth, blue-eyed gaze dancing toward Daniel again.
This man was up to something.
“What did you say your name was?” He extracted his hands from his pockets and broadened his chest.
“Mr. Pike.” His lips curved away from a yellowed smile. “And you are?”
Why did he get the feeling Mr. Pike already knew? “Daniel Gray.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gray. Now if you’ll excuse me, I was making a deal with the captain of this vessel.”
Camilla shot Daniel a look he couldn’t decode. Did she want his help or want him to stay out of her business?
“What sort of barter?” Maybe if he asked, she’d see this man had nothing good in mind.
Mr. Pike’s tarnished grin widened, and he shifted to speak only to Camilla. “We pay for the repairs, and in return, you make a few deliveries for us until the costs are covered.”
Camilla narrowed her eyes.
“With a bit of interest for the trouble, of course,” Mr. Pike hurried to add, clearly noticing her suspicion. “We do need to make a profit.”
Her features eased. She wasn’t considering the idea, was she? She couldn’t be that desperate.
Daniel spoke up before she could open any doors she’d later regret. “That won’t be necessary.”
Solomon nodded before whatever Camilla was about to say broke free. She bit back her words and made a rapid series of gestures at the engineer.
Solomon followed her tirade with a finger pointed at Daniel, the same fist-on-palm lifted-hands signal he’d given before, and then a series of rapid finger movements.
Camilla glared at Daniel as though he’d been the one to sign whatever she didn’t like.
He held her steely gaze. He’d seen this type of man before. The kind who took advantage of others’ desperation and misfortune. They’d likely end up with shoddy repairs that cost more than twice what they should. Or a debt that never quite cleared until the next job.
“The captain respectfully declines.” He refused to look away from Camilla even as he spoke to Mr. Pike.
Her eyes rounded at him speaking for her, but she pressed her lips into an unforgiving line. She swung her gaze back to Solomon for confirmation.
Solomon gestured between Daniel and Mr. Pike. Then he spread his hands and signaled to the shoreline. Daniel understood what that meant.
He directed Solomon’s question at Mr. Pike.
“Where did you come from, anyway? Rather convenient for you to show up so soon after our running aground. Especially since there’s no other boats anchored nearby.”
Solomon gave a satisfied grunt.
Mr. Pike’s nostrils flared, but the hardness in his face almost instantly turned to amused confusion. “I live nearby. Was coming down to fish when I saw what happened. Only wanted to help.”
He tipped his hat when no one responded. “Well, then. I thought Captain Lockhart was the type of woman to make her own decisions. Didn’t know she depended on her solicitor to do it for her. I’ll be going, then.”
Mr. Pike ambled toward the gangplank in a pair of nice leather shoes. The type a man didn’t wear when he planned on fishing the Old Muddy’s banks. He whistled as he hopped the rail and strolled down the plank that had been lowered onto the sandbar. Then he splashed through calf-deep water and onto the shore and disappeared into the woods.
“That was strange.” Camilla blew a breath up her forehead.
“Yes,” Daniel crossed his arms. “Especially since no one told him I was a lawyer.”
Solomon mimed fishing.
“Right,” Daniel agreed. “And no one goes fishing dressed like that. He must have come from that band of bootleggers we happened upon in the woods. He offered to fix your boat so you would be obligated to run illegal moonshine for him in return. We should alert the law.”
But first they had to escape the sandbar, pray they weren’t rammed by another boat in the process, and get the Alma May to safety. Before a group of criminals decided they’d sniffed too close.