Page 138 of In the Pursuit of Haven
Bowditch had drawn an anchor attached to the docking cleat. “Are these actually arrows?” I asked Jessie.
He studied the illustration. His arm purposely moved against mine. Our scare from earlier had made us hyperaware of each other, and I was positive he was doing everything he could to assure me he was with me. I appreciated it.
“They’re pointed two different directions,” he finally determined.
What are they trying to say?
“Those arrows look like shovels to me,” he said.
My heart dropped. “Is he saying the Relic is underground?” I landed on my knees on the stones, searching the nautical compass for a latch or anything that might be an opening to get us down there. There wasn’t anything.
“What if we just break open the sidewalk?” he asked.
My brow went up at him. If we could avoid that, I’d be super happy. “What if the smuggling tunnels are under here?” I asked.
“We should ask.”
“And who could we possibly…?” Too late, I saw that Jessie’s eyes were latched onto the tour group lit up under the streetlights across the way. Davey led them, wearing his signature long black coat. “Bowditch’s knowledge of the tunnels piqued his interest in maps,” he told the group, pointing to the house where we stood.
I knew the moment he caught sight of us because his lecture just trailed off.
Jessie motioned him over like the guy wasn’t in the middle of providing for his livelihood.
Davey swiveled back to his tour group and clapped his hands. “Okay, you’ve reached the end of our tour. Be sure to put a review on our group site. I take tips through this QR code.” He held it up for his guests to scan with their phones, and when no one did, he slipped the payment info back into his thick coat’s pocket. “Enjoy Salem! You’ve all been fantastic.”
The group hardly reacted as they drifted away. Poor Davey. They were lifeless. He jogged across the street with his thermos to reach us. “Does this have to do with the…” He lowered his voice, “What Abby’s been talking about?”
“It’s uh… just another tunnel situation,” Jessie said. He pushed his fist against the stones to stand. “Can you get us down there?”
“Below the sidewalk?” Davey’s eyes widened.
“Yeah.” Jessie turned impatient at the delay. “This is what you do, right? You’re the tunnel guy… unless you’re just scamming everybody and this is just a big conspiracy theory.”
His slur hit the intended mark. Davey glared. “I mean, why do you want to go down there so bad?”
“Well because… are you a…” Jessie looked cautiously from side to side. “A Shepherd?”
“A what? No, I’m a writer… well, I want to be…”
“Okay, just checking. It’s just that in theory… Bowditch could’ve left something here that might be useful to us.”
“Bowditch?” Davey straightened. “I’ve been reading up on him ever since uh… well, Abby told me about Jeggle Island, and uh, was this compass painted on this sidewalk before or after 1946?”
“Um…” Jessie met my eyes. “Not sure.”
“Because that’s when both the Bowditch House and the Witch House were moved to the side to make more room for North Street.”
I groaned. Jude teasing me about how the original basement in the “witch house” was no longer there still made me grit my teeth. Some expert I was! Had I made the same mistake again?
“Rumor has it that whatever was underground was just left where it was,” Davey said, “basements, secret tunnels, and all, so that would mean that whatever was underneath this mark would actually be…” His nose squinched as he tried to work out the details in his head. “Under the Witch House.”
“Say what?” I yelped. “But Jude said…”the original basement wasn’t there anymore!That didn’t mean that a new one wasn’t there in its place. The guy was a tartar, so of course he wouldn’t give away any juicy gossip about how the Witch House was now over the Bowditch basement. “How do we get to it?” I asked Davey.
His lips curved. “That depends onwhyyou want to reach it. You wouldn’t happen to be looking for that treasure, are you?”
“Maybe,” I muttered.
Davey brightened at the admission. “I knew it!”
