Page 77 of In the Pursuit of Haven
He pushed the clam chowder at us with two glasses of water loaded with ice. “Will that do you?” he asked.
“Thank you.” I played with the spoon under his watchful gaze. He was still worried about me from the other night. That was sweet of him, and though I felt bad about taking advantage of my sudden “in,” I hoped this made him more talkative. “Abby says you’re related to the Crowninshields and the Derbys,” I said. “How’s that?”
“Wow, you have stimulating conversation at home.” Zak elbowed Abby. “Do you finish that up with swapping World War II facts?”
Abby shrugged. “Don’t worry, it’s not like I believe you. I always knew you were a no-good liar.”
He smirked at the challenge. “Not so fast, squirt. You see that coin over there?”
Abby laughed and drank her water. “Ha, the coin again.”
“That belonged to John Clifford, my ancestor, first tavern keeper in Salem.”
I peered over the bar to study the coin. It was a New England six pence—it had been minted during the years when Massachusetts was a colony and they weren’t allowed to make coins, only the Puritans flew under the radar for so long that creating their own currency was the only way to survive. “That’s worth a lot,” I told him.
“Right?” he said. “Don’t tell anybody.” He gave Abby a warning look, which she laughed at. “It was the first coin that came into his business,” he said, “and not his legit one, if you catch my meaning… the smuggling one. Clifford wasn’t a fan of the Navigation Acts or the Crown or anything.”
Yeah, ripe for Crabb to befriend. “You ever get into financial trouble here, you should auction it off,” Abby suggested.
“There are a few things here I’d auction off first. I’m not particularly attached to that ugly thing.” He gestured to the stout bottle I’d checked out the last time I’d been in here. The date on it said 1628.
And that was the date that Clifford’s gravestone had been switched to. I did a double-take. “Where did you get that?” I asked.
“That’s got its own history… let’s see, sometime in the early 1800s, a student from Lynn Academy came in and gave that to old ‘Meek Leon,’ my great-grandpa. The guy said it was dangerous, and he didn’t want it anymore.”
This has to be our relic!
Abby laughed and pulled closer to the bar. “What? So like, it’s cursed?”
“I don’t know, seems like it’s been good luck to me. We do pretty well around here, I mean, if you don’t listen to my uncle.” He snorted. “He’s always going off on how I’m going to end up dying like my old man, washed up and drowning in debt.”
“That’s awful,” I said. His father had always been so kind when he ran the place, so sad that he’d lost his shirt to it.
“Don’t worry,” Zak said. “I’m never selling his place for all the gold in the world. I could never live with myself. My father loved it here, but this… well, it’s a collectible. You think your museum would ever be interested in something like that?”
“Definitely. Can I touch it?”
He picked the bottle up with a careless grip and tossed it to me. I caught the glass with both hands. “Whoa!” My hair stood up on end at what might’ve happened if it dropped. “Careful, Zak. Isn’t this an antique?”
“You tell me. You’re the professional.”
It was, but from the late 1600s,not1628, of course.
I felt something rolling around inside of it. “There’s something in there,” I said.
“Yeah, I can’t get it out though, not without breaking it.”
I tried to peer inside the mouth of the jar, not seeing much of anything. “Abby, give me your phone. I need the light in it.”
A pair of arms flew around me. Squeaking in surprise, I realized two seconds later that Jessie had me. “We’ve got to go.” His eyes went to the bottle. “What’s this?”
Zak seemed just as flummoxed at his sudden appearance. “It’s a collectible. Roxy’s thinking she can sell it to the museum. Jessie, what are you doing?”
“Sorry, Zak.” He pulled from me to talk to him. “Remember those guys I got into some trouble with a few days ago? They’re back.”
“Now wait a second.” Zak turned stern. “You’re not dragging your wife and sister into this?”
“It’s not what you think. You got a back way out of this place?”
