In the kitchen, luxuriously furnished with a card table and two folding chairs, she tossed the junk mail in the garbage, poured a glass of red wine, and contemplated dinner. Cold pizza or salad from a bag? It had been a long day and even tearing open a plastic bag felt like far too much effort. Pizza won out.
Sitting down at the table, she pushed aside the half-finished puzzle she’d started on Valentine’s Day when her date stood her up, and carefully opened the box. Inside, encased in layers of bubble wrap and pressed between two sturdy squares of cardboard, she found a Glassite envelope containing scraps of old vellum covered in faint writing, and a note. She took a bite of pizza, grimacing at the cardboard texture of the stale crust, and began to read.
Dima,
I know this isn’t the proper way to care for or transport an ancient document but I needed to get it to someone I trust, someone who can work on it with me. You’re an expert at this. I have one more stop to make, but I’ll get to you as soon as I can. Feel free to begin working on it. I think you’ll find it’s right up your alley. Have fun!
Robert
Robert Crane was an old friend and colleague. She hadn’t seen him for years and was surprised he even knew her current address, much less setting her a task without first touching base. And what was up with this note? Robert had never been the secretive type, but this message was maddeningly vague. Maybe it was a prank. When translated, the fragments inside the envelope would probably spell out an insult. That would be more Robert’s style. She could still hear his infectious laughter. The man loved his jokes. Oh well, she could use a laugh.
She held up the envelope and examined the sheet inside. Her heart began to race. If the document was a fake, Robert had outdone himself. A quick inspection with a magnifying glass convinced her that this was the genuine article. Warming to the challenge, she grabbed her laptop, a pad, and a pen and set to work. A few minutes later she had already translated a few phrases.
called the name of that son Noah … began to multiply on the face of the earth … in the earth in those days, but they were not of man…
So it was something from the Bible. More accurately, something extra-Biblical. She knew the book of Genesis contained no story of Noah’s birth. It came to her in a flash and the breath caught in her chest. Her slice of pizza slipped from numb fingers to fall forgotten onto a paper towel.
“It couldn’t possibly be. There’s just no way.”
She hastily typed the phrases into her web browser, took a deep breath, and tapped the enter key. The search results left no doubt.
“Robert,” she whispered, “if this is a joke, you are a dead man.”
Chapter 4
“Mister Bonebrake, we need you to tell us everything you can remember about this treasure.” Maddock sat at the kitchen table with Bones, his grandfather, Angel, and Bones’ mother, Miriam. Behind Miriam, Bones’ uncle, “Crazy Charlie” Bonebrake, paced back and forth, one hand resting on the grip of the 357 Magnum he wore on his hip, and a dark look in his eyes.
They sat in the small kitchen of Miriam’s home where the attack had occurred the night before. It was a quaint, cozy place with dark wood cabinets and yellowing linoleum. The room smelled of coffee, bacon grease, and Lysol. It reminded Maddock of visits to his own grandparents’ house when he was younger.
“It’s all right,” Miriam said to her father-in-law. “You can tell us.” Miriam Bonebrake was a handsome woman, tall with delicate features and big brown eyes. It was plain to see where Angel had gotten her good looks.
Samuel shook his head. “There is no need to discuss it any further. Those men are gone and I don’t want to cause trouble for the boys.” He twitched a crooked, liver-spotted finger at Maddock and Bones.
Angel smirked. “Grandfather, these two are perfectly capable of finding trouble on their own. Believe me.” She reached over and took Maddock’s hand. Her diamond engagement ring twinkled in the morning sunlight that shone through the window. Maddock still couldn’t believe his good fortune. Thank God for beautiful women with bad taste in men.
“We have a lot of experience in treasure hunting,” Maddock said, turning his thoughts from the lovely lady at his side. “It’s our profession.”
“And we know how to take care of ourselves.” Bones bared his teeth in something just short of a grin. “Besides, these men want the so-called family treasure, whatever it is, and they clearly think you’re the key to finding it. They’ll keep coming back until they get what they want.”
“Unless we find it first,” Maddock finished.
“You don’t know that.”
“With respect, Grandfather,” Bones said, “yes we do. We’ve dealt with situations and men like this before.”
Samuel let out a sigh of resignation. “All right, but I want a cup of coffee first.”
“I got it.” Angel rose, gave Maddock’s shoulder a squeeze, and went to refill her grandfather’s mug. Maddock couldn’t help but stare at her. He loved her big eyes, her fine cheekbones, her long brown hair, her trim, athletic figure…
“Dude.” Bones elbowed him in the ribs. “Can we focus here? We’ve got a situation.”
“Sorry about that.” Grinning, Maddock took out his phone, turned on the voice recording feature, and slid it across the table. Meanwhile, Bones borrowed a pad and paper from his mother and prepared to take notes.
When Samuel finally had his steaming mug of coffee, he took a sip, savored it for a few seconds, and finally began the story.
“Esau Bonebrake was the brother of my great-grandfather,” the old man said.
“So I’m not the only one who got stuck with the weird Bible name?” Bones asked.
Samuel carefully placed his mug on the table, folded his hands, and fixed Bones with a stern look. “Uriah, if you insist on interrupting me with your juvenile comments, the story is going to take a long time to tell, and at my age, time is not on my side.”
“Ass,” Angel whispered to her brother.
Samuel turned his eyes on her and she quickly adopted a look of contrition. “Sorry.”
“Esau was an unusual man,” Samuel said, resuming the narrative. “He kept mostly to himself, never married, and spent most of his time in the mountains.” Samuel seemed to anticipate Maddock’s thoughts. “That in itself was not out of the ordinary for the mid-1800’s, but there is no doubt he was an eccentric. He was a treasure hunter.”
Bones grunted and mimed stabbing himself in the heart, but everyone ignored him.
“He also collected stories and legends the way Angel collects dolls.”
“Dolls?” Maddock arched an eyebrow at Angel.
“They’re vintage,” she said, as if that explained everything. “Now stop interrupting Grandfather’s story.”
Samuel smiled. “One of the stories that was passed down through our family spoke of an ancestor who had discovered an item of power. The details have been lost, but Esau took it for the truth and spent years searching for it until he finally found it. At least, he claimed to have found it. If anyone else saw it or knew what it was, I cannot say. He called it the ‘family’ treasure but, by all accounts, he kept it to himself. But, shortly after he found the treasure, Esau developed the ability to talk to animals.”
“I talk to animals all the time,” Bones said, “but they never answer back.”
“I think he means like a horse whisperer.” Angel rolled her eyes.