Sam finished his mouthful of soda. “What?”
“Track marks. It’s the name we use to describe the multiple pin-prick type marks on the inside of a person’s arm, where the easier veins to access are generally located. Basically, they’re scars from regular needle use by drug addicts.”
“And the kid with the pile of cash didn’t have those?”
“No.”
“So, he could still be the Senator’s son. Seems like a hell of a coincidence that he should be murdered on the same day.” Sam grimaced. “You couldn’t find his name or details, could you?”
“No. He didn’t have any ID on him.”
“So he might be the Senator’s kid and he might not.”
Virginia finished the last of her fries. “Where was the kid last seen?”
“Not in New York, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t follow his father over here.”
“But where was he?”
“He was apparently searching for treasure in Lake Superior.”
Virginia’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Yeah, why?” Sam squinted as though he was trying to see what she was getting at. “What does that have to do with your drug dealer?”
“Probably nothing… but possibly everything.”
“Go on.”
“When I finished my shift last night and hid the cash I found something attached to a bundle of banknotes.”
“What was it?”
Virginia reached into her cargo pocket and pulled a Mylar sleeve. She rolled it backward and flattened it on the table as she slid it open. “This.”
Sam’s eyes twisted into a crooked grin. “You found a treasure map?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sam ran his eyes across the document.
Within seconds, he knew the item inside was either genuine, or a very good forgery. At least a hundred years old, the coarse paper within was tattered and yellowed, but still legible. A crude hand drawn map showing a main river, smaller tributaries and a dotted pathway to a mine shaft. An X was located at the end of the tunnel with a small drawing of a shovel next to it, most likely indicating that the treasure was buried at the end of the tunnel. It was like a caricature of a classic treasure map. The left-hand edge of the map had been torn by hand as if from a ledger.
Sam studied the map, looking for any distinguishing landmarks that matched with his memory.
“Any ideas where it might be?” Virginia asked.
He held the pouch up to the light and found a watermark depicting a man in uniform saluting on horseback, the animal passant with its right foot raised while walking. Sam recognised the Great Seal — Confederate States of America 1862, Deo Vindice.
He made an audible gasp. “This is official Confederate States stationery Virginia. Deo Vindice is Latin, meaning, With God as our Protector. It was a national motto of the Confederate States.”
“Wasn’t there meant to be some old story that when the Confederacy fell to the Union, Jefferson Davis took the huge gold stores from the Confederate treasury and attempted to flee to Havana to raise a new army?”
“Yes. Jefferson Davis denied it and no one’s ever found any evidence of the treasury, but the rumors still persist.”
Virginia sighed. “And if they were true, how much gold are we talking about?”
“At the lead up to the Civil War, the southern states amounted for nearly eighty-five percent of all tax revenue coming into the country. One thing’s for certain, at some point the Confederacy had an enormous treasury.”
“The sort of money that could change someone’s life forever.”
“If this map is true, it would explain why someone’s willing to murder for it. Which means, you’re in real trouble, Virginia”
Virginia expelled a deep breath of air. “Tell me about it.”
“With you now dead, is there anyone else they might come after for it?”
“No. I lived alone until my dad got sick.”
“What about your dad?”
“He’s leaving for Palm Springs, California, to start treatment now that we have money to pay for it.”
“Which means…”
“Oh Christ! They’re going to go after my father, aren’t they?”
“For a treasure like this, they’ll go after everyone until they get what they want.” Sam dropped a fifty on the table and stood up. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty
The Toyota pulled up to the front of her father’s house.
Virginia’s eyes reached the damaged front door. She felt her chest tighten and her heart hammer faster. Light was shining from underneath the door, and up along the hinged edge, indicating it was not properly hanging as it should.
She watched Sam move with the same military precision he was capable of when she’d first met him, back at Afghanistan. Sam withdrew his handgun from its holster, and stepped up against the door, so that he could listen for anyone still inside.
He waited a full minute. Sam glanced at her. “I don’t suppose the door was like that when you left it this morning?”
“No.”
“All right, you’d better unlock the door.”
Virginia stepped beside him and edged her key in tooth by tooth to the hilt. Sam counted down three on his fingers and she turned the mechanism as he pushed the door and swept his handgun in an arc through the sections of fire as he entered. The door sagged loose from its broken bottom hinge for the second time that day. Sam side-stepped it as he moved toward the single bedroom and cleared it for persons. He shook his head at the violence that had been wantonly unleashed on his friend’s home and belongings.
Looking back towards the door he watched Virginia take in the vision of her destroyed apartment. He guessed everything she owned was here, and was now opened, smashed, upended or displaced. Even the sofa was slashed open bulging it’s stuffing to the floor. She stood firm, feet rooted to the spot. A slight quiver on her lower lip the only hint of how violated he guessed she must have been feeling. She stepped to the kitchen bench and picked up the admission confirmation for her Dad’s hospital treatment and showed it to Sam.
“I have to call my Dad,” she choked out.
“Yes, of course.”
Sam waited, while she tried his cell number twice.
She studied the original itinerary. “He might still be on the flight.”
“We should meet him there,” Sam said without hesitation.
“I agree, but in case you forgot, I’m supposed to be dead. It might be a little hard to keep up the pretense if I board a commercial flight.”
Sam shrugged. “I have a plane waiting for me at La Guardia.”
She grinned. “You really don’t have to play by the same rules at the rest of us who have to work for a living, do you?”
Sam grinned. “Not even a little.”
“All right. Let me get changed and I’ll be out in a minute.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Sam stared up at the entrance to the medical clinic.
The building towered above the surrounding California low rise, housing a tan and glass behemoth, set against the deep blue sky. It was as imposing as it was impressive, with a sprawling front setback complete with palm trees and a water feature centered turning circle. Sam pulled the rental up to the curb and a vested valet promptly arrived with a friendly greeting and handed him a voucher for the car.
Sam stepped in through the automatic doors into the crisp interior of the lobby. “This place is more like a five-star hotel than a hospital.”
“I should hope so for the money they’re charging,” Virginia said.