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Chapter 14

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RORY SAT QUIETLY as Chet drove them back into town. There was no doubt some kind of conspiracy was going on here. But even Rory found it difficult to believe that a group of grown men would be willing to kill children who were coming close to their beloved treasure. Children were victims of war and there were child soldiers created in Africa, but this was America he kept telling himself.

A cell phone rang. It was Chet's and he reached over and picked it up from the cup holder he had it sitting in. Driving with one hand, he pressed a button and set it back down, "Chet Calhoun," he answered. "You're on speaker phone."

"Mr. Calhoun, this is Desmond Beck from the Historical Archives in Atlanta. Do you have a moment?"

Chet looked over at Rory, puzzled. "Yes sir, what can I do for you?"

"I just heard about Nora-Jane Jackson on the news down here," Beck said. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Chet said.

"When are they going to have the funeral? Has it been set yet?"

"Not sure," Chet answered.

"Still too soon, I imagine."

Rory mouthed, 'Who?'

Chet just shrugged.

"I'll send you a text message with my cell phone number if you don't mind," Beck said. "I'd like to know when the funeral is so I could attend, if possible."

"Of course," Chet said. "I'll send you the information as soon as I get it."

"Thank you. Now to the matter at hand. I trust you still want the information on those photocopies you gave to Nora-Jane?"

Chet nearly drove off the road. He looked at Rory, surprise written across his face. "You have the photocopies, Mr. Beck? How? Nora-Jane hadn't left yet –"

"She took images with her cell phone and sent them to me," Beck answered. "She was very anxious to find information on them as quickly as possible, so she sent them on ahead of her arrival. She was the same right to the end, wasn't she? Diligent, always working away–"

Chet pulled over to the shoulder and stopped, "Yes, she was. Did you find anything out? Were you able to figure out where those pages came from?"

"Oh yes. Not all that difficult a task really. Just took a bit of patience, which we have lots of here. Have to, you know? Anyways, the original images appeared to be from a tintype, which became very popular during the American Civil War," Beck explained. "So we started our search from the start of the Civil War in April of 1861 and worked forward. Very simple really."

"And...?" Chet prompted.

Rory could see Chet's knee bouncing up and down.

"And we found where they were copied from. Back about seventy-five years ago, there was a project to gather copies of historical books from around the southern states. A number were sent to us from the Golden area. Those images were in a book sent here for that project and the book pinpointed them to being taken back in 1887."

"Do you know where?" Chet asked. His knee was bouncing harder.

"Oh yes. Let's see...they were taken up near a geographic point designated as Cherokee Ridge."

Chet's knee stopped bouncing, "Are you sure? I've been up in that area. All of us young'uns around here hiked up into that area. I'm positive we would've seen those signs if they were there–"

"Oh no, sir. You wouldn't. They aren't there today," Beck assured him. "In fact, they haven't been there for a long, long time. They would have disappeared somewhere around 1888."

"How do know that?" Rory asked.

Beck hesitated, only now aware that someone else besides Chet Calhoun was listening. "Well...that was when the Cherokee Dam was put in. There are other pictures taken up there around that time, probably to preserve the–"

Chet spoke slowly, "Cherokee Dam...Cherokee Dam...I vaguely remember hearing something about that when I was a boy."

"It was only used for a few years. There was an attempt to get a sawmill working up there, using power from the dam," Beck explained. "They put up bunkhouses and a cook shack, but there was a lot of opposition from locals for some reason. There were a few deaths and the company that put in the dam and sawmill had to hire guards at great expense. The project eventually proved to be economically unviable when the opposition continued, as well as dangerous–"

"Hold on. You said a few deaths? Any idea how they died? And who died?" Chet asked. He looked over at Rory, wondering...

"No. But I could look back into old county records, newspaper reports for the time, that sort of thing," Beck offered. "Why? Is that important, Mr. Calhoun?"

Rory looked at Chet and shook his head no.

"No, that'll be fine. If we need more information on that we'll get right back at you," Chet said.

"Alright, then," Beck said. "Oh! And Nora-Jane also asked me to find out if anyone else had asked about this information. Let's see...I found an interlibrary request from your local library for one of their patrons...a Corry Mark Haney."

Chet looked at Rory.

"I hope that helps," Beck said.

"It does. Very much so. Thank you," Chet said. "And one last thing, Mr. Beck. When you send me your text message could you also send me the images of the photocopies sent to you by Nora-Jane? I haven't been able to retrieve the ones from her car...."

"Of course, I understand," Beck said. "If I can be of any further help, please don't hesitate to call me. Goodbye."

The phone clicked off. "Goodbye," Chet said quietly. He sat there motionless, looking out the windshield.

"Is this Cherokee Ridge very far from here?" Rory asked after a moment.

"Not really," Chet said as he stared through the windshield. "We used to hike up there in the morning as young'uns, hunting for treasure signs all the way...and be back home just before sundown. We would pack a lunch...we had a great time...."

"So Corry could've easily gone up there and be back, without his mother knowing it," Rory said.

Chet nodded his head, "Sure could. Our families never knew when we went up there. As far as they all knew, we was just gone all day long, playing in the woods."

Rory sat quietly himself, thinking.

"I wonder how Corry knew to look for those old history books?" Chet asked after another moment.

"Donna-Lou said he was always looking for more information on the treasure. He would frequent forums on the Internet, talk to anybody he could about it," Rory reasoned. "Someone may have tipped him off about the old historical books from the area being sent to the Historical Archives in Atlanta. Or he may have come across references to them when he was going through all the local historical books and records still in your library here. Either way, he sent for the books and came across the signs."

Chet shook his head slowly, "Kid was sure a lot smarter than we were."

Rory looked at Chet, "Are you up for a hike to Cherokee Ridge?"

Chet nodded slowly, "Probably attract a little attention as we go up there."

"That's what I'm counting on," Rory said.