Jennifer reattached the security chain, leaned her head against the closed door and tried to breathe normally. From the window, she watched Early leave the front porch and get into a car, but the car didn’t drive away. Was he sizing up the house to break in?
At least he hadn’t identified her from the plane, although that encounter gave her knowledge about him. She knew he had a drinking problem and was prepared to do anything to get what he wanted.
While waiting for his car to depart, she dialed John Birdsong to describe what happened. “Have you any idea how he learned about my riddle and map? You’re the only person in Florida who knows they exist. Who did you tell?”
“Jennifer, I’m sorry about this. I’ve never met him myself, but William Early gives all Civil War buffs a bad name. I told you I’d put out a few feelers regarding your riddle and map. Many Civil War enthusiasts talk together on the internet about our theories or ideas or discoveries, and he has a lot of ‘spies’—contacts wanting payoffs from him for leads they provide. This internet network extends beyond Florida. Civil War fans anywhere in the U.S.A. or elsewhere might participate.
“But my questions revealed nothing about you and I only asked probability questions, like what they thought the chances were that Stoughton had a treasure that Mosby rescued. Or, if somebody found a map and a riddle that appeared to address this treasure, what were the chances it might be authentic? Could anybody suggest who had the knowledge to authenticate such documents? And so on. I don’t know Early personally, but by reputation he’s a very aggressive private collector with big bucks and atrocious manners.”
“Is he dangerous?”
Birdsong laughed. “That I don’t know, but I’d guess more obnoxious than dangerous.” A buzzer sounded in the background. “I have to get something from the stove. My wife’s visiting her mother for a week so I’m playing bachelor and cooking for myself.” The clang of pans sounded in the background. “There, all set now. Sorry to interrupt.”
Confused, Jennifer said, “From what you describe, I see how he found you, but how did he find me?”
“I really don’t know. Rumor says he’s used private detectives to track people down if they have something he wants.”
“Well, thanks for wanting to help me, John, but please stop your inquiries as of now.”
“Done, Jennifer. Did you get the info I e-mailed you about Raiford and links to research on the treasure?”
“Not yet, but thanks for sending them.”
“Shall I contact you with any feedback from inquiries already made?”
“Yes, please.”
Jennifer no sooner ended the call than her phone rang again.
“Morning, Mom,” Becca chirped much too cheerfully. “Would you mind picking us up at the hotel? We could eat here or go out for lunch or buy groceries for lunch at Grammy’s house.”
“Let’s use up groceries already in the pantry. Could you be in front of the hotel in fifteen minutes…? Good, I’ll swing by then.”
During lunch, Jennifer told them about William Early. “We want to avoid him and keep him out of the house, because he’s after the copies I printed of the cloths from the frame.” She explained the Mosby treasure theory.
Grammy clucked, “Well, if Mr. Early thinks these papers are valuable enough to buy for $200,000, let’s hide them in the safe.”
“Good idea,” Jennifer agreed. “Who has the combination?”
“I thought we all did.”
“You’re right. I put mine back in the This-and-That file but the movers took the file cabinet.”
Jennifer stood. “I have a copy in my purse. Let’s go upstairs to solve this while Peggy and her people are away for lunch.”
As they started up the stairs, Jennifer’s cell rang.
“Goodwin here. How about 3:00 for the jewelry ID? I’ll meet you and Frances at the Property Evidence Room in Building J at the Sheriff’s Headquarters, 3319 Tamiami Trail East. Got it?”
“Got it. Thanks, Deputy. See you at three.” At the top of the stairs, she confirmed this plan with her mother.
The doorbell sounded and as Becca raced downstairs, Grammy called, “Must be Peggy’s gang returning to work on the estate sale, but look out through the window before you unlock.”
Becca looked out, then hustled back to the foot of the stairs. “It’s a man I don’t recognize,” she said in a stage whisper.
Jennifer and Grammy trotted down the stairs to the window.
Looking apprehensive, Jennifer said, “It’s William Early again.”
As they stared, he rang the doorbell again.
“Should we pretend we’re not here?” Grammy whispered.
Jennifer whispered back. “Becca, get the wasp spray from the kitchen.”
When her daughter brought the can, Jennifer opened the door but left the chain in place. Holding the can out of sight, she looked out at the man on the porch.
“Hello, again, Mrs. Shannon. Look, I’m really sorry we got off on the wrong foot earlier. I apologize for upsetting you. I told you I’m William Early, but I didn’t explain I’m a Civil War historian and collector of relics. Many enthusiasts, like me, read extensively on this subject and form study groups to learn more about this momentous period in our American past. Our common interest connects us like a fraternity, and we often talk on the internet about our slant on various battles and events.
“That’s how I learned about something you may have found recently, a riddle and map.” He shifted his weight and moved his briefcase from his right hand to his left. “Because of my long-standing fascination with this war, you can understand why I’d like to see what you’ve found. From my extensive knowledge, I might be able to help you decipher codes or otherwise offer academic assistance or clarification. And on the offhand chance it’s something to round out my collection, I might offer to buy it from you at a very good price.”
Grammy whispered, “He sounds reasonable and looks harmless. Should we let him in?”
Jennifer shook her head before speaking again to Early. “Thanks, but what makes you think I have something that interests you?”
He cleared his throat, shaping his answer. “Among my staff of close associates are some computer experts who have…special skills for finding who has put a piece of information on the internet and then tracing further to learn those he communicated with about it.”
Jennifer realized this fit John Birdsong’s internet feelers on her behalf. Had they checked his phone records, too? But there must be more. “What made you think I have grandchildren?”
“Most facts about everyone are public record these days. You probably know that.”
“But even if you traced my e-mail address to my home, how did you find me in Florida?”
“Maybe my associate checked an internet user’s phone records. Or maybe you have chatty neighbors who mentioned your vacation to one of my associates?”
Under other circumstances, Early’s Civil War expertise would seem exactly what she needed to better understand the cloths’ messages, just as John Birdsong’s had. But now her intuition warned danger. She shivered—something creepy about him from the outset but way stronger now that she realized he’d stalked her.
“I’m afraid your detective work’s in vain because I haven’t anything about the Civil War to show or sell. You’ve made a mistake.” From the corner of her eye, Jennifer saw Peggy’s car pull to the curb. “And I would appreciate it if you never bother me with this again. Because if you persist, I will call the police to arrest you. Now, please leave these premises and don’t ever come back.”
Early started to protest, but seeing Peggy’s group coming up the sidewalk, he turned to leave.
“Afternoon, ladies,” he said, albeit through clenched teeth, as he passed them on the way to his car.