Damien shook his head, still unsure. “Why would he leave that much money lying around in the ground? It seems foolish.”

“There wasn’t much of a banking system back then. The ground was as good a place as any for safekeeping.”

“Except that much of Louisiana is below sea level and the soil is unstable.”

Arcadias nodded. “I think this is why Lafitte buried the loot this far inland. He had to find a stable place where it would stay put.”

Damien sighed. “That sounds logical, Arcadias. We just need to find it.”

Colette patted Damien’s knee. “Yes, you do need to find it, honey. If you don’t find it I’ll haunt you from the grave. You’ve made me a criminal. So if I am to be a lawbreaker I better be a rich one.”

Arcadias looked at Colette with hidden antipathy. Colette was the laziest person he’d ever met. She and Damien maintained a more traditional relationship, while he and Iris were simply friends with occasional benefits. “Then we need to get busy if we are to find the treasure,” Arcadias said. “Damien, you should continue scanning the grounds. And maybe the carriage house as well. Iris, you and Colette search all the rooms in the house with the handheld scanners. I’ll go under the crawlspace and search there. Keep your two-way radios handy and set to channel 1. We’ll convene back here in two hours.”

Chapter 8

Grand Isle, Louisiana

Lorelei and Alisha Charbonneau stood in front of the small treasure hunting shop and peered into the storefront window. A “Closed” sign hung on the locked door. “I’m sorry, honey. But it looks as if your father isn’t here,” Lorelei said to her daughter.

“It’s just as well, Mom. He probably doesn’t want to see me anyway.”

Lorelei placed an arm around her daughter’s shoulder. “It doesn’t matter whether he does or doesn’t. I’m just so proud of you that you want to reach out to your father. You’re only fifteen approaching sixteen, but you’re already more mature than Arcadias is at forty-seven.”

“Something the pastor said at youth group convicted me. He quoted scripture from the Bible. Matthew 6: 14-15 says, ‘For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.’”

“That’s not easy to do, Alisha. We all struggle to forgive someone who has wronged us.”

“Do you think you can ever forgive, Dad?”

“I don’t know. I hope at some point I can. But he abandoned us. And I begrudge him so much for that. Maybe on my deathbed I’ll forgive him. But right now my heart is too hard. It’s not soft like yours, Alisha.”

“I just don’t understand. Why did Dad leave us, Mom? Doesn’t he love us?”

“I’d like to think Arcadias loves us. But if he does it’s not nearly as much as his treasure hunting. When you were small he doted over you. You were his little princess. But then his obsession with Jean Lafitte took over. It’s all he can think about now.”

“He chose a pirate and a legend of buried treasure over us?”

Lorelei sighed. “I’m afraid so. At one time everything was perfect. Your father was a respected professor. His students enjoyed his classes. We were always asked to attend faculty parties. And we had a stable income and lived in a nice home. But then the lure of gold enticed him, and he couldn’t resist its pull.”

“Do you think he’ll ever find the treasure?”

Lorelei shrugged. “Arcadias often said he’d one day hold Lafitte gold in his hands or die trying.”

“I hope he finds it. Maybe his obsession will end when he finds it.”

Lorelei scowled. “And maybe he’ll finally realize his real treasure was at home all along.”

“Mom, someday I hope to get married. Who will walk me down the aisle? My grandpas are both dead.”

“You don’t need to worry about that, honey. That’s a ways off. I’m sure we’ll figure something out by then. I’ll start praying right now that God will bring a virtuous man into our lives that will count it an honor to walk you down the aisle.” Lorelei took her daughter’s arm. “Since Copeland is hosting the town hall debate tonight, let’s skip all the traffic and news crews and stay here in Grand Isle tonight. We’ll buy some food and have supper on the beach. The sunsets are so beautiful here.”

Alisha smiled. “That sounds fun.”

“Great, let’s do it,” Lorelei said, handing the keys to Alisha. “You might as well drive. You have your learner’s permit now.”

Alisha smiled and grabbed the keys. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

Mother and daughter descended a set of steps to the ground—every building in Grand Isle sat on stilts to combat flooding from hurricanes—and climbed back into their faded Honda. Driving carefully, Alisha chauffeured her mother toward the other end of the island, leaving Charbonneau’s Treasure Shack far behind them.

Chapter 9

Up in the humid attic, Annie quickly picked her way through the antiques, sifting through forgotten items from yesteryear. Any other time, and under normal circumstances, she would be moving along at a snail’s pace, admiring the antique collection with a dumbstruck gaze.

But with psychopaths on the loose in her house, she had no time to admire and reminisce over the memorabilia and forced herself to examine the attic’s contents with only cursory glances. So far she’d found nothing that would create an exit hole in the attic’s ceiling and roof. And she was beginning to think she never would find anything useful.

She operated in a state of disbelief as she searched. A question kept repeating in her head. Can this really be happening again?

This was the third time in her life she’d been held hostage: once when she was eight-years-old by Claude Boudreaux, and then again a little over three years ago by Sebastian and Jean-Paul Boudreaux, Claude’s equally twisted sons. She’d been an FBI agent the second time, assigned to tracking the Boudreauxs, who had abducted a small girl from a car ferry. But things went south when the Boudreauxs ambushed her and took her hostage too.

She’d always called Louisiana home, and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. The vast majority of people in Louisiana were friendly and wonderful to live with. But for some reason the state’s dregs kept finding a way into her life.

At least this time she wasn’t alone. She had Jon with her. And she took great comfort from having him here with her. Despite his easygoing demeanor, Jon had another side to him. Like Superman, Jon could go from mild-mannered artist to action hero in seconds. He didn’t possess super powers, but was a force to reckon with when riled. Annie had a hunch the Charbonneau brothers would likely experience his heroism before morning.

Despite her law-enforcement past, Annie had never met anyone similar to Jon. Storms of life could batter him at will and he’d remain calm. She supposed it was his background as a NYPD hostage negotiator—a stressful job that demanded calm nerves—that kept him serene. But more than that she knew Jon’s faith attributed the most to his intrepidness. He could stare death in the face and not blink because nothing could shake his trust in God’s provision.

She was a believer herself, but her faith—strong and vibrant at first—stagnated after her miscarriage. Forgive me for not praying sooner, God. Jon and I need your help. Please help us escape this attic. Show us a way out of here. We need a miracle.

Annie came to a large wardrobe. She grabbed the small brass knobs, opened the richly stained doors and looked inside. A gasp escaped her mouth. Vintage clothing—elegant and fashionable for their time—hung inside. She couldn’t resist their lure and burned precious time examining the dresses, hats and blouses. They were the clothes of a debutante. Annie examined every dress, admired them all except for one. A black funeral dress hung incongruously amongst the evening gowns and summer dresses.