Page 88 of In the Pursuit of Haven
“That’s ridiculous.” Momma wasn’t having any of this. “Anyway… he’s dead… best not speak ill of the dead. I’m sure it was all a misunderstanding.”
Scrooby gave Jessie an apologetic look. “They really didn’t think too highly of your uncle, sorry!”
“I never knew him,” Jessie muttered. “They could be right.”
His best friend grinned. “Anyway, everyone figured the shock of losing his home had gotten to Poppy, and sure enough, two days later, the old guy died.”
Jessie groaned into his palms. “That’s terrible.”
“Well… he was ninety-six, so I guess it was only a matter of time, but my mother, she never forgot what she heard back then. And I don’t think she ever quit looking for that lost figurehead.”
I shifted, lifting my finger to interrupt.
“It became a hobby with her, up until the day she had her stroke,” Scrooby said. I lowered my finger at his sad face. “That slowed her down a little.”
Jessie almost looked guilty about it, like his family’s sins had somehow caused every bad thing in this family’s life. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“No, no,” Scrooby wouldn’t take his pity. “She still shows up at estate sales to take a peek at the goods every once in a while. She enjoys it.”
Now that they were done commiserating, I could finally find my voice to interrupt them. “Jessie, Scrooby… I know where this pipe whistle goes! You know that figurehead I’ve been restoring at work since I started at the museum? I’m positive that this is the part that’s missing from it.”
Jessie ripped around from his seat to stare at me. “Are you serious? You have Chippy?”
My lips curved at his dumbfounded expression. “I’ve only been meticulously peeling off paint from it for the past three years, so yeah, I’m sure!”
“Sorry.” His dark eyes glittered with amused excitement. “I didn’t mean to question.”
The Bible that someone had clumsily painted into The Lady’s hands to make it stick there was only a shoddy replacement. My mind went crazy trying to figure out where the Shepherd’s Relic was hidden in her.
“But how?” Jessie said. “How did it end up in your hands of all people?”
“I’d been given a tip to find The Lady at an auction,” I said. It was just after I was married to Jessie.
Is that connected too? Had someone known that’s when I’d joined the family?
Those were the days when I’d first started putting in extra hours at the museum. Jessie loved my passion, but there were times I wondered if he was getting a little jealous of The Lady, with how much it took me away from him.
Scrooby stood at my discovery. “You need to be more careful than you’ve been, guys. You’ve attracted attention.”
We sure had, but after catching Jessie’s warning glance, I decided to keep Scrooby in the dark about Hunter. I didn’t want to put our friend in danger too.
“I used to talk about going after this treasure myself,” Scrooby said, “but my father, well, he warned me against it. He’s heard a few things around town, says this mad hunt is going to get someone killed. I think you’ve heard of the Shepherds of the Relics by now?”
“Haven put it on her gravestone,” I said.
Scrooby sighed. “I don’t know what she was into, but these clues have been passed down through the generations since 1691, and they’re guarded by people called Shepherds of the Relics, and maybe my grand-poppy was one, I don’t know, but they take their jobs seriously. The Shepherds could be anybody—friends, strangers, that grumpy old man down the street, your cute little aunt Haven, and… I hate to be the one who tells the little kids Santa might be evil, but, well… if you’re going to do this, you have to know what you’re up against. The stories my old man tells me about these guys make my skin crawl. You shouldn’t cross them. You get me?”
Was this why no one investigated Drake’s death and why the mausoleum we’d uncovered was on its way to being resealed? “Do you know whoanyof these Shepherds are?” I asked.
He made a face. “Not a chance. They’re shadows, man. You don’t catch shadows. The Shepherds of the Relics are supposed to work together to keep this treasure safe and they do. These guardians have turned this hunt into a living treasure map, always moving the clues, always hiding them.” He turned to Jessie. “You can’t forget that your uncle was killed for that pipe whistle, okay? I have no doubt that whoever murdered him was a Shepherd.”
The possibility that Drake had been killed by someone other than Robert made me catch my breath. I’d thought I had this all figured out.
Jessie’s eyes turned hard. “What do they want? A cut?”
“No idea, but they can’t be completely untouchable. Everybody wants to get rich, right? Maybe youshouldgive them a call.”
Jessie stood at the dark humor, gathering his coat. “Not a chance. We’re almost there. We’ll drop off a nice Lamborghini for you when we’re through.”
