transferring information to the Soviets … how could he be undercover when he went to the same university, same time, as Ethan Lyons?”
“Doesn’t mean that Miller knew Lyons.”
“No, but there is irony there. Why would Miller say that Billy Lawson was shot in a mugging … shot once, and shot with a.38 caliber bullet?”
“Maybe he was,” Nick said.
“The autopsy will speak for the dead,” O’Brien said.
“If he was shot more than once, and it wasn’t a.38 that killed him, how will you approach that?” Dave asked.
“We find three old men: Ethan Lyons, Robert Miller, and Brad Ford.”
Dave heard the
“What tree?” O’Brien asked.
Dave continued, “She says … ‘good luck, please let me know what happens, Anna.’ Well, let’s see what she sent us.” Dave opened the attachment. “I wish it was as easy as X marks the spot.”
“Looks like a little kid’s drawing,” Nick said.
Dave chuckled. “They never look polished. Images without a lot of form. With remote viewing there is no coloring between the lines. It’s creating the lines as quickly as you can before the part of the human conscious that’s seeing them is blocked.”
“Gives etch-and-sketch a new meaning,” O’Brien said. “Anna’s drawing looks like stick figures, maybe a big tree … and a shape that could be Fort Matanzas at the top of the island. The tree is gone. I will ask Glenda Lawson if she remembers one on the island.”
Dave said, “Anna’s sketch comes from what the place looked like at the time Billy Lawson viewed it. The island could have changed some in six decades.”
Nick said, “Might be the magic dust is sittin’ under somebody’s house near there. They coulda built right on top of it. And people with mold think they got problems.”
O’Brien said, “Looks like the Germans buried it on the island. Anna’s sketch indicates seven stick figures. Six, I assume, are German and Japanese sailors, the seventh-a mystery man … this is something that could have been a life raft. If we dig in the general area where the figures are on the drawing, we might find something”
Dave hit the print button. O’Brien said, “Here’s our treasure map. Nick, that tool you use to spear flounder may do the trick in the soft sand.”
Dave said, “We should call the federal task force, let them know what we found.”
“We haven’t found anything yet.” O’Brien punched numbers quickly on his cell. Abby Lawson answered. “Abby, sorry to call so late, but can you wake your grandmother?”
“She’s been asleep for several hours, Sean. You okay? Are you still at Matanzas?”
“No. But, it’s important-I need to ask her something.”
“Hold a sec … I’ll get the phone to her.”
O’Brien looked at his watch: 2:07 a.m.
“Hello,” Glenda’s voice was like words coming through water.
“Glenda, I know it’s late. But, can you think back to the time you and Billy spent on the beaches of Matanzas Inlet and Rattlesnake Island. Do you remember a large tree on the island?”
“I do, and I remember it because it was the only live oak on that island. Rattlesnake Island had palms, but the live oak, it was big and really old back then, probably saw the massacre of the French. As it was the only oak tree there, I always wondered if it was lonely. The tree was about five blocks from the south end of the island, about half-way to the fort. I believe it was knocked out by a fierce storm”
“Thank you, Glenda.” O’Brien disconnected. “Let’s go.”
“Whoa, where we goin’?” Nick asked.
“Rattlesnake Island.”
Dave said, “Sean, we have to let the task force know. They need to be there.”
“Okay, tell whoever is coming, someone you really trust, to bring a van or truck in case we find this stuff. Nick, let’s tie a zodiac to the Jeep. If we find the canisters, we’ll need to float them to the road. I know this is a stupid question, but anyone got a shovel on his boat?”
Dave shook his head. Nick said, “There’s at least one in that tool shed the dock master has behind the Tiki Bar. He keeps one of those metal detectors locked in there, too. I’ll get the prod and meet you at the tool shed.” Nick left.
“You coming, Dave?” O’Brien asked.
“My service might be more helpful with the task force. I’ll start briefing them on the phone en route to the federal building. Between the old woman’s memory and the images Anna sketched … let’s hope there is something under that sand.”
“We’re about to find out. Max, I’ll see you later.” Max jumped from the couch and stood behind the sliding glass door, watching until she could no longer see O’Brien as he ran down the dock.
CHAPTER SIXTY
O’Brien pulled the Jeep off the road right before the Matanzas Inlet Bridge, drove down an embankment and across fifty yards of sand to the inlet. The moon was now higher, a pastel mist lying low over the pass like flat smoke from a smoldering campfire.
“How close can you get?” Nick asked.
“Close as I can. Let’s unload the Zodiac, grab the flashlights and shovels. We’ll put the boat in the water next to the bridge piling. Looks like an in-coming tide. That’s good. Less fight to get the inflatable to the island.”
They pulled up on the island’s sandy beach and got out. Nick said, “Rattlesnake Island. You never said how this place got its name?”
“I always heard that when they were dredging the Intracoastal on the other side of the island, the men would take a break and bring their bagged lunches to the island to eat. Place was so full of rattlesnakes it was difficult to find a safe spot.”
“Damn,” Nick said, shining the flashlight around him. “Any snakes still left in here? Sure are plenty of sand fleas. Little shits are crawlin’ in my hair.”
O’Brien looked at the crude sketch Anna Sterling drew. “I hope she’s accurate … for Jason’s sake. Maybe what Billy Lawson saw is still here.”
“How much time do we have?”
O’Brien looked at his watch. “A little over thirty-six hours. Let’s find this stuff. Glenda Lawson said the old tree was on the island.” O’Brien slowly panned the flashlight from the beach to the interior. He looked at the drawing and back up at the terrain. A fat raccoon waddled between the mangrove bushes. O’Brien stared at the south end of the island.
“If Billy Lawson stood somewhere in here out of sight, watching the Germans unload their stuff not far from where our raft is … they walked inland a little piece … and Billy saw the rotation of the lighthouse … the beam illuminating the window in the old watchtower ….” O’Brien kept moving, Nick following silently. “He said it was in the path of light coming through the opening in the tower. Then, right here, we’re in the same path, the same trajectory that Billy apparently saw. Now, if we take the drawing that Anna sketched and walk about to where Glenda says the live oak was, maybe two hundred feet south of the fort … what will we find?”
O’Brien stepped through the sand and palmetto bushes, looking back and ahead, keeping in the path of the light from the tower. “Then,” he said, gesturing west, “the big oak would have been here to our left … and just maybe …”
O’Brien aimed the light toward a slight bowl-shaped indentation in the undergrowth. He said, “If a large oak
