Chapter 41
Days go by with me hiding out in the villa, afraid of running into Keston or Tabitha or anyone else who heard my outburst. Keston is either mad at me for everything or giving me space. He hasn’t called or texted and I feel as if I should also give him space. I miss him terribly.
Mikah consoled me at first. When I told her I just wanted to lay in the hammock and read the diaries, she seemed happy to take off to the other side of the island to learn about Kelley’s off-the-grid lifestyle. I wondered if that’s all she was learning about.
She’s called every day to ask if I’ve stopped licking my wounds and am ready to emerge from my cave.
To which I remarked, “No.”
Now she’s leaving and I’m heading with her to the airport in a taxi. She’s already said her goodbyes to Kelley. Turns out he bought his first cell phone ever to keep in touch with her.
“Which I think is him admitting he likes me,” she says shyly.
“He didn’t have a phone?” I ask amazed.
“Nope, you should see his place, CJ. It’s an outdoor art gallery. So many sculptures. He works in textile, clay, and anything he finds on the beach. I think he may be a genius.”
I’ve never heard Mikah speak with wonder about anyone. I’m thrilled for her.
“Do you think you could ever live on St. Nicholas?” I venture as the taxi slows to enter the airport.
She looks at the bright blue sea on the left side, the green hills on the right. The airstrip sits in between them.
“I don’t know. What would I do here?”
“That’s what I keep asking myself,” I exclaim, glad to have someone who understands.
“But then again, CJ,” she says, climbing out of the taxi and stretching her long limbs to the sky. “Why do we have to have all the answers before we take a leap. Isn’t that the opposite of trusting yourself?”
Her words linger in my head as I squeeze her in the tightest hug. “Thank you for coming,” I whisper. “And be careful doing you know what.”
“You be careful you don’t lose that gorgeous man.”
“Point taken,” I mutter. “What’s going to happen between you and Kelley?”
Her eyes turn dreamy. “I’m going to convince him to come to Paris. I have friends who would love to meet him. See his portfolio.”
“He has a portfolio?” I ask, wondering how a man without a phone could have that.
“He will,” says Mikah.
“Don’t ruin him,” I say sincerely. “He’s an innocent.”
“He’s the real treasure of St. Nicholas,” she says with a wide smile. “No one can ruin him.”
I think about her words all the way back to the resort. The real treasure of St. Nicholas.
Are Kelley and Keston, the descendants of a true love? Because I’ve worked it out myself. From bits and pieces of what I know. Keston’s father must have had an affair with Mrs. Harris. Maybe they bonded over their shared interest in finding the pirate treasure.
She must have given birth to Kelley a few months before Keston was born. Mikah said Kelley’s birthday is in March. I know Keston’s birthday is in May of the same year, making them half-brothers.
Being only two months apart, Kelley calls them “twins.” It’s the only thing that makes sense. It explains why they look so much alike. Why Keston denies Kelley is his brother. And why Kelley would have the other diary.
But what is the treasure? And more importantly where is it?
I stay up most of the night, pouring over the diaries, the one belonging to Charlotte Campbell, and the other, which has turned out to be a ship captain’s log from 1803 to 1804. Kipson’s ship log to be exact.
When I try to sleep, I dream the same dream over and over.
It starts off the same as the last one I had. I’m following a man who turns around. He looks like Kelley and Keston. But older. Rougher. With prominent cheekbones. Wild eyes in a dark face.
Waves hit the rock he’s standing on. This time a woman in a long cloak appears next to him.
Something is terribly wrong. She’s crying. Seems to be in great pain. He’s holding her hand. Helping her toward a cave. Before they enter, he turns around and opens his hand.
Gold coins glitter in the dark. He drops them at the entrance of the cave.
A huge wave smacks the rocks as they disappear inside. A bright blue glow illuminates the water around the cave. Blue stars shine in the sea, showing them the way.
Then everything goes dark.
I sit up with a gasp. “Oh my God. I know that light.”
Turning on the bedside lamp, I sit cross-legged and turn to the pages that have been haunting me all day and night.