Page 42 of Scammed

“You don’t have to open it,” said Amy. He turned, staring at her. “We could simply take it back to Belle Fleur and give it to Adele, Ro, and Ellie. They can determine where the objects should go, and you won’t have to see it. It’s up to you.”

“I believe I should like to see what was saved,” he said, kissing his wife. He looked at the other men, nodded, then lifted the lid. All eyes leaned over the chest, whistles and sharp intakes of breath echoing in the small grove.

“Ho-lee shit.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“It’s all there,” said Marcel. “All except what I earned honestly, and I suspect that was what was used to start the Foundation and keep it running. The Spanish crown jewels can be returned to their country, and the rest can be given to a museum or used for Prometheus or the shelter.”

“You could rightfully keep it for yourself, Marcel. It was a different time back then,” said Nine. “Men were able to keep the spoils of war or trade. Today, anyone would say if it was found on their land, it belongs to them. Rightfully. You could keep this, and no one would judge you different. This belongs to you.”

“No. It never belonged to me. I had no clue I was carrying the jewels. Someone placed that on my ship.”

“Maybe it was Couvillion,” said Nine. “I mean, if you weren’t aware, maybe he hoped that you would carry it across or be caught with it.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” frowned Marcel. “Two hundred years as a ghost, all that time thinking of what happened, and I never once thought him capable of stealing the jewels. You may be right. The other items, though, were mine. I only wanted it to do good for others. I’ve accomplished that. I have everything in the world I need right now. But. When we announce that these have been found, Couvillion will know, and he will be angry. I don’t know the extent of his abilities, should he have any.”

“Seems to me if he had any abilities, he’d have used them to find that box,” said Miller. “I’d say he’s a man, flesh and blood like you. The question we need answered is, does he die and come back to life every eighty or ninety years, or does he just live on.”

“I wish I knew the answer to that question. I’m afraid either way, we have to stop this man before he harms someone here.”

“We’ll stop him, brother. Don’t worry about that,” said Miller, slapping his back.

“What if we gave him the painting?” All eyes turned to Amy, who was pondering all the possibilities. “I mean, if we have what we need from it, what harm would it do to give him the painting? I love it. I mean, I fell in love with you by seeing that painting every day. But we could have another commissioned.”

“That’s true, but if he doesn’t find the letter or what he believes is there, he’ll just keep coming,” said Marcel. “It’s a good idea. I just don’t know how we make it work.”

“I know,” said Ela, coming toward them. “Sorry to interrupt. I just overheard the conversation.”

“You’re not interrupting, honey,” said Angel. “What’s up?”

“Well, I’ve been playing with this for a while now because people often have strange art requests. But what if I rewrote Arturo’s letter and placed the treasure in a different location? Something very far away?”

“Could you do that?” asked Marcel.

“I think I can,” she smiled. “His writing is classically beautiful and truly artwork. I could write it exactly as it is, except the location of the treasure could be somewhere else. A remote island in the Caribbean or something.”

“That would be convincing,” said Marcel. “I sailed there often, as did he. There were many islands that men would stop at to bury treasure or leave cargo for others.”

“How about we go one step further,” said Gaspar. “It’s storm season.”

“Yes. I suppose it is,” said Marcel, staring at his relative.

“You said Couvillion was a terrible captain, that he lost ships in storms because he wasn’t aware. I would bet a man like him hadn’t learned many lessons over the years. Why don’t we do exactly what Amy and Ela have suggested, find an island that we think will be hit by a storm soon. No airports. No buses. No trains. His only way to get there will be by sea.”

“That’s a brilliant idea,” nodded Marcel. “He wouldn’t be able to resist. But the paper? The paper would be too new.”

“I can reproduce the paper as well,” said Ela. “We actually make linen paper here to mimic paper made a hundred or two hundred years ago. People go crazy for it, buying it in the store. It will take me a day or two, but I’m certain that I can make this work.”

“Alright, so what we have to do now is find him, get him to meet us for the painting, and then wait for him on the island,” said Antoine.

“It can’t be any of you,” said Nine. “You all look too much like Marcel. It will need to be one of us to meet him.”

“I will do it,” said Trak. “I look nothing like any of you, and he would not come at me. He is too cowardly. I will tell him I stole the painting from the Robicheauxs.”

“I’d like to see his face when he meets you,” smirked Marcel.

“You can. I will have on a body camera.”

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