Ghosts ⚔️ Blackbeard's Treasure

Chapter 9

The next morning, the weather has cleared by the time Dylan, Blair and I set out for McGillicuddy's Marine Salvage Co. The business is conveniently located near Charleston's Naval Shipyard and on the way to the Front Fort neighborhood.

Three suspicious missing person cases.

Jerry's words echo in my mind as we drive past a restored, black and white, 18th century warship, the U.S.S. Constitution. The world's oldest floating ship is dry-docked for the end of the season. Her mission was to keep the sea lanes open for commerce, fight pirates and prevent the slave trade. The tall ship is so well preserved, I imagine her jumping back into action at any moment.

I can't stop thinking about the bell, the missing people, and Blair's vision of a priceless treasure. Could they all be tied together? Blaire and I Googled the Front Fort property's history, but the flaky bar owner was cleared of any suspicion with his missing tenants. Jerry's promised me that he'll let me know if any other information on Eddie a.k.a. Roland Thatche surfaces.

Meanwhile, Dylan's thrilled by this impromptu visit to the Naval Ship Yard. I've been on the U.S. Constitution multiple times, but he's never been here. Eventually, I'm going to have to tell him what's going on, but for now, why ruin his fun?

"What do you need at the salvage company, Lizzie?" He's craning his neck, transfixed by the delicate white leaf motif winding down the frigate's black billet head. The design ends in a patriotic red, white, and blue shield.

"Julia asked me to stop by McGillicuddy's and have her maritime bells evaluated. The Project Coordinator from the mayor's office was interested in buying them." A small white lie.

"Really? I'm surprised she's considering selling them. She's always been attached to her European knick-nacks."

Blair answers, before I can respond. "She said she wants Lizzie to use the money as a security deposit on a new apartment." I mouth at Blair to stop. She's laying it on too thick.

Inside the Naval Ship Yard, The harbor is calm, with flotsam and jetsam from the storm, gently bumping against the sides of the steel and concrete pier. Positioned next to the historical park, the salvage yard is full of wrecked vessels, fishing nets, buoys, rafts, skiffs and a myriad of other maritime property. When we park, I see a scruffy black dog with startling green eyes, sitting next to a pile of wooden crates.

"Get off my property!" A scraggly middle-aged blond man, with a weathered face, wearing a gray coat and a wool cap, walks out from behind the crates. Using his hands, he shoos the ragged creature away. With a backward glance, the animal trots off in the direction of the large black and white warship. I stare after the dog with its green, intelligent eyes. I'm sure it's the same one that was in the street near Pirate's Republic last night.

"Damn stray." He turns and gives us a measured look. "If you're from the Mayor's office, I can't help you."

Blair rolls down her window. "We're not from the Mayor's office," she says.

"That's what they all say." The sharp cry of gulls fill the air.

I get out of the car and cautiously approach him. The dog looked friendlier than this sea dog. "I'm Lizzie Summers. This is Dylan, and my friend Blaire. I called and spoke to Roy McGillicuddy about having a set of nautical bells evaluated."

The anger leaves his face and his gray eyes clear. Overhead, the sun breaks through the overcast sky. "Yes, I remember your call. Sorry, Lizzie. I'm Roy." My boyfriend reaches out and shakes the mariner's weathered hand. As he returns the greeting, the salvage expert says, "I can tell by your hands, you're a hard worker. Unlike that bottom-feeder from the Mayor's office." He waves at us to follow him. "Come in."

"I like to make myself useful." Dylan looks at me. "If you don't mind, Lizzie, I'm going to get a closer look at the U.S.S. Constitution while Roy examines the bells."

"Of course. It's a wonderful ship." I watch as he eagerly heads across the yard towards the frigate. Blair and I follow Roy to his small shop attached to an old warehouse. Inside, his workspace is cluttered, but organized. The concrete floor is painted a battleship gray. The single pane windows need a good wash, making the interior dark and dreary. A small portable heater takes the chill out of the air.

"Do you have a restroom?" Blair asks.

"Afraid not," he says, hackles up.

I make sure the bells don't tinkle as I place them on his wooden workbench. I watch his grizzled mariner's face becomes intensely focused as he examines each one. "Well, blow me down. These are valuable. Where did you get 'em?"

"My grandmother bought them fifty years ago at the Piccadilly Market in Europe."

"Ah, makes sense. Do you see these letters engraved on the side of each bell?" He holds one of the bronze tocsins up for us to see. "QAR. These are the original ship's bells from the QUEEN ANNE's REVENGE. The Pirate Blackbeard's ship. Even if they change a ship's name they leave the original bells. That way they could identify a ship if she went down."

A strange cold seeps over me and I move closer to the heater. "What happened to the QUEEN ANNE's REVENGE?"

"Some say, Blackbeard knew his days were numbered, so he ran her aground to preserve his treasure."

"Was Blackbeard's treasure ever found?" Blair interrupts, unable to contain her excitement.

"Nay, they found the QUEEN ANNE, but the lost treasure of Blackbeard remains unfound to this day."

"I knew it," Blaire trills.

Roy looks at us shrewdly. "Is this what you're really here for—a treasure hunt?"