Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“I’m calling Chief Barnes,” Tommy announces, pulling out his phone.
One of Reeves’ men steps forward, but Finn interposes himself, a deep warning growl stopping the man in his tracks.
“That would be unproductive,” Reeves advises. “By the time authorities could establish any wrongdoing, the artifacts would be relocated. And Ms. Lane’s star might suffer unfortunate damage in the process.”
Tommy hesitates, looking to me for guidance. I consider our options carefully. Confrontation seems unwise given the imbalance of power. Cooperation feels like a betrayal of Dad’s careful work. Delay might be our best strategy.
“We need time to consider,” I say finally. “This isn’t a decision to make under duress.”
“You have until this evening,” Reeves counters. “6 PM at the caretaker’s cottage. Come alone, both of you.” He looks between Sid and me. “No police, no lighthouse curator, no additional parties.”
“And my star?” I press.
“Bring the information about what’s in this wall, and your star will be returned. Simple exchange.”
Nothing about this situation feels simple, but I nod agreement, buying us precious hours to formulate a better plan.
Reeves and his men depart, their footsteps echoing up the narrow staircase.
“We should call the police immediately,” Tommy urges once they’re out of earshot.
“And tell them what?” Sid asks. “That a businessman made vague statements about artifacts that may or may not exist? We need concrete evidence.”
“The star is concrete evidence,” I point out. “It was stolen from my shop.”
“But we don’t know where they’re keeping it,” Sid counters. “If we involve the police now, Reeves will simply relocate everything and deny all knowledge.”
Tommy looks conflicted. “Samuel wanted this handled properly, through official channels.”
“And we will,” I assure him. “But first we need to recover the star and whatever documentation Dad created. Then we approach the authorities with everything properly preserved.”
“What about whatever’s in this wall?” Tommy asks, directing his flashlight back to the discolored section.
I consider the question carefully. Dad had been preparing thorough documentation before approaching officials. Following his example seems the most responsible course.
“We document its existence without disturbing it,” I decide. “Photos, measurements, everything we can record without actual excavation. Then we determine our next steps.”
Sid produces his phone, its camera flash illuminating the wall section as he captures detailed images from multiple angles. I measure the dimensions of the discolored area, noting its precise location relative to the cellar entrance.
“Samuel believed the Star of Sebastian was hidden here during the 1923 renovations,” Tommy explains while we work. “According to family stories, my great-grandfather found something significant but kept it secret, fearing treasure hunters would descend on Seacliff Haven.”
“And the logbook Reeves mentioned?” Sid asks.
“Passed down through generations of lighthouse keepers, eventually shown to Samuel when he began researching the Salvador Mundi.”
The shared information confirms the significance of what Dad discovered. Not just a historically interesting shipwreck, but potentially a revolutionary navigational device that had been protected by Tommy’s family for generations.
“Reeves expects us at six,” I remind the others as we finish our documentation. We must devise a plan that excludes giving historical artifacts to black market dealers.
“Or walking into what could be a trap,” Sid adds.
Tommy’s expression darkens. “I have connections with the state historical preservation office. I could make some calls, try to get emergency protection for the lighthouse and surrounding areas.”
“Do it,” I encourage him. “But quietly. If Reeves suspects official involvement, he might destroy evidence rather than risk discovery.”
As we climb the stairs back to the main lighthouse level, I mentally review everything we’ve learned. Dad discovered the Salvador Mundi wreck site, documented its contents including the Star of Sebastian, encoded crucial information in my driftwood creation, and planned to ensure proper historical preservation through official channels.
His unexpected death left the documentation incomplete, with pieces scattered across the seven locations he marked on the map. Reeves and his investors recognized the potential value of the artifacts, particularly the Star of Sebastian, and took aggressive steps to acquire them before official protection could be established.
Now the final piece appears to lie hidden within the lighthouse itself, potentially placed there by Tommy’s great-grandfather almost a century ago. And my driftwood star, with its encoded microfilm, holds the key to authenticating whatever artifact might be recovered.
Outside the lighthouse, holiday visitors continue their tours, wholly unaware of the historical drama unfolding beneath the cheerful Christmas decorations. The normalcy of the scene feels surreal after our tense encounter with Reeves.
“What now?” Sid asks as we walk toward the parking area, Finn trotting at my side.
“We need to see what’s in that wall,” I admit. “Properly, with archaeological oversight if possible. But first, we need to recover my star.”
“You’re not actually considering meeting Reeves alone?”
“No,” I assure him. “But we need a better plan than simply not showing up.”
The Christmas Market continues in town, its festive atmosphere a stark contrast to the tension we carry. As we drive back toward my cottage to strategize, I can’t help feeling that Dad’s legacy, my star, and a historically significant artifact all hang in the balance of decisions we must make in the next few hours.