Chapter 5: Flirting the Morning Away

“Hold on a minute,” Phinn said, pulling out his phone.

Jake nodded while he turned his car off. The blond athlete blinked his eyes while fighting off a yawn. After a short night of sleep, the two detectives arrived at the public library’s main branch just shy of its 9 a.m. opening. Following Phinn’s lead, Jake picked up his phone. Unlike his friend, who made a phone call, Jake sent off a message.

“Hi, I’d like to reserve a copy of Oswald Cozart’s X Never Marks the Spot: Lost Treasures of American History,” Phinn said into the phone. After providing his name, he informed the sales clerk that he’d pick up the book in a few hours.

“I’m surprised you didn’t message Ethan to save you a copy,” Jake noted once his passenger hung up. One of their few classmates Phinn might consider a friend, Ethan Eldred worked at his grandfather’s new and used bookstore.

“I did, but Novel Nebula doesn’t carry Cozart’s book.”

“But wasn’t he in town for a book signing?” Jake questioned, aware that authors usually preferred to hold their events at the prominent, half-century-old store.

“He is. However, he skipped Nebula and went with Page & Reade,” Phinn revealed, referring to the national chain of booksellers, which had a store out by the highway. Then, opening the car door, he added, “Mildly surprising. We can pick it up after our first two stops. I assume they’ll swiftly sell their copies out after the news interview. Who were you messaging?”

“Trina,” Jake responded with a glum look.

“She still upset?” Phinn inquired, opening the passenger door.

“She hasn’t replied to either of my messages this morning,” Jake relayed. “It’s not surprising after she jumped out of the car at Michelle’s.”

“You might need to make an actual phone call to her,” Phinn suggested after Jake came around the sedan’s rear.

“I might have to show up in person,” Jake admitted before changing the subject. “I thought more people would be here already.”

“I didn’t. As I said, the historical society has most of the information on maritime history around Edgewater. The break-in last night will also drive people to check it out. A line will be at the door when they open in an hour.”

“Yeah, every news station came down to report on the break-in this morning. Are you sure those two guys are brothers?” Jake questioned as they reached the library’s main doors.

“Red Mask complained about his dumbass brother. I’d say it’s safe to assume so for now. Something about them felt familiar, too.”

“They’re locals? That might not be helpful. We have crossed paths with a few criminal families over the years.”

“And helped put a few behind bars,” Phinn noted, producing his most charming smile as they approached the library’s main desk.

Behind the desk, a thirty-year-old woman they knew well returned the broad smile. Immediately, she lowered her glasses to the bridge of her nose before offering a professional greeting.

“Good morning, and welcome to the Tobias Dillingday Memorial Library. How may I help you on this hot, steamy day? Are you little kids working on a summer school project?”

The Tobias G. Dillingday Memorial Library sat in the middle of the lazily named Library Park, located south of the Old Downtown, which was west of the Harbor District. Constructed in 1899, it was named after the son of a mayor and prominent businessman who died tragically at a young age. No expense had been spared in creating a grand library to usher in a new century. Designed in the Neoclassical style by Hartley Astell, a famous architect, it had once stood watch over one of Edgewater’s finest neighborhoods. The several blocks around the park still held an attractive charm. However, its large, elegant homes have been subdivided into apartments and condominiums, catering to young professionals and recent college graduates.

The second floor of the three-story building featured a vast opening in the center, which overlooked the ground level. The central branch of the Edgewater Public Library system, Dillingday Library, also held the multi-library system’s primary depository in its basement. The two high school gumshoes came for those archives and special collections.

“You forgot Toby’s middle initial,” Phinn pointed out. However, the woman ignored him.

“Little kids? School project?” Jake mumbled, holding up his hands in minor annoyance.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Ma’am? Can you hear me, ma’am?” Phinn inquired, his voice rising with each question. He fully violated the library whispering rule when he snapped his fingers while practically shouting. “Ma’am, isn’t your hearing aid working today? Jake, it looks like we’ll need to find a younger librarian to assist us. This one is ready for the nursing home.”

“Oh, you little shit!” Zelda hissed, leaning forward to smack Phinn’s cheek playfully.

Since she arrived six years ago, Zelda Imhoff, the recently appointed assistant head librarian, often provided plenty of assistance to the young crime solvers. A quirky, sassy woman, Zelda stood out with her long, slightly curled, dark red hair, green eyes, a rotating assortment of colorful-rimmed eyeglasses, and a nice pair of medium-to-large breasts.

"Called me shocked! Well, I'm not as I expected to see you two meddlers today. However, I am surprised you came here first. I thought you'd be over at the historical society with your magnifying glasses and fingerprint powder. You did hear about the break-in last night, right? The police and sheriff departments both responded to the call."

“We may have seen something on the morning news,” Phinn replied, curious to see what one of the town’s most prolific gossipers knew.

“You know how I stop in at Cuppa Café every morning for my croissant and coffee.” Phinn nodded as he’d known Zelda’s routine for years. “Well, it was abuzz about the break-in and that author mentioning a lost pirate treasure.”

“Pirate treasure? What pirate treasure? Do we know anything about a pirate treasure, Jake?” Phinn queried, turning to face his friend. Jake fidgeted nervously at the topic.

“Don’t think I won’t grab my ruler and spank you,” Zelda threatened with a twinkle in her eyes, which surprised Jake.

“I think Jake prefers to issue the spankings,” Phinn retorted.

“I bet he does,” Zelda purred, scanning the football player hungrily.

The whole exchange bewildered the athletic detective.

“What’s the rumor mill saying?” Phineas inquired. “Wait, let me guess. It was either Officer Flanner or Deputy Dowse showing off.”

“It was Randy Flanner! How on Earth did you know that?”

“Clearly, he’s trying to impress sexy librarians. Dowse wants to be taken seriously. Flanner likes to hit on attractive women. Has he hinted at a date yet?”

“Eww! You know I don’t mix library business with the police. Not anymore. No after he-who-shall-not-be-named,” the bookish redhead insisted. “That was a mess.”

“Yes, it was,” the bespectacled teen agreed. “And what did Flanner brag about?”

Zelda launched into recounting what she’d heard at the local coffee house. A slow night around Edgewater led multiple police and sheriff's department vehicles to swarm the historical society. Inside, they discovered a cut alarm, a shattered display, and several other dented or banged artifacts. Even more surprising was what they found after studying the security footage.

“Two pairs of burglars, and they fought?” Phineas let out a low whistle. “That sounds like some night. Did they manage to steal anything?”

“Stan Gladden doesn’t think so. Or at least the police don’t believe the second pair of burglars had the time. The first person seemed more professional and knew the security layout better.”

“Did you hear that, Jake? The first burglar acted like a professional,” Phinn repeated, turning to face his partner.

“Nothing to be proud about.”

“Any leads?” Phinn inquired, ignoring his friend’s glare.

“Detective McCall thinks they’re likely fortune hunters who saw the interview last night and decided to poke around,” Zelda relayed, referring to the robbery detective. “A few officers speculated they might be out-of-town members of an organized crime ring who are feuding with each other. The skeleton diver fits into this theory as one of their syndicate’s **** smugglers. ”

“Out-of-town crooks? How predictable! Watch; their next guess will be drifters riding the rails while looking to score a quick buck,” Phinn mocked, shaking his head over the old trope. “**** smuggling is one of the more moronic theories of the EPD of late. Heroin and cocaine weren’t even illegal when that diving suit was in use.”

“Ooh! Tell me more. What’s your theory? Don’t deny you have one. I know Big Jake here was on the scene when the Hayslip girl found the body,” the nosy librarian revealed.

“We only have preliminary observations, which aren’t enough for a theory. I hope what we learn today at the library or historical society will help develop a theory,” Phinn explained, causing the redhead to frown.

“I’m willing to assist as always. However, I know Stan Gladden doesn’t care for the two of you on a normal day. And this morning is about as abnormal a day can get for him,” Zelda observed. “Break-ins at the historical society don’t happen.”

“I bet Gladden is all flustered.”

“Sounds like he is, and it’s not unexpected. Still, Stan’s insisting the historical society will open today. They’ve only pushed it back until noon,” the redhead reported.

“Now that we didn’t know,” Phinn truthfully admitted.

“Good thing we decided to come here first since we didn’t know,” Jake said, struggling to sell his lie.

“So you boys are–my apologies. I mean, you fine young men are looking to discover lost treasure,” Zelda began, stressing the word fine. “I hope you’re up for scuba diving. Let me know, as I’d love to see a pair of grown men in wet suits.”

While Zelda used her hand to fan her face, Jake glanced out of the corner of his eye at Phineas. Far less experienced with women, the intelligent eighteen-year-old didn’t appear to react to Zelda’s behavior. He didn’t understand what was happening and wondered how Phinn seemed oblivious to the librarian’s mood shift today.

“Not in Phinn’s case. He won’t go near the ocean. He’s afraid of it,” Jake revealed.

“Oh, my! I didn’t know you that,” Zelda responded with a shocked expression.

“I am not aquaphobic! I merely don’t see how it’s safe to swim in the ocean. If I want to swim, a pool is just fine.”

“Most people tend to swim in Paddle Bay, not the Atlantic,” Jake pointed out.

“The bay is part of the ocean. They’re connected,” Phinn insisted, causing their watcher to chuckle.

“Okay, okay, let’s get down to business before others arrive,” Zelda prodded. “What does my favorite pair of male detectives want today?”

“Notice how she said male,” Phinn noted, nudging his elbow into Jake’s side. “Have the Sassy Girls visited lately?”

“Alright. I’ll admit that you’re not my overall favorite junior detective. Speaking of my favorite, I assume you’re looking forward to…” Zelda trailed off after noticing Phinn’s shaking head. Picking up on his intention, she changed her question. “Have you heard from Dusty lately?”

“Nah. We never hear anything,” Jake grumbled, wearing his disappointment.

“Not from Dusty,” Phinn emphasized, playing semantics.

Zelda understood and winked. Jake caught the gesture, which confused him further.

“Have you ever heard of Thornbeard or his lost loot?” the lead investigator asked.

“I spent all night tossing and turning while having the same thought. Sorry, I can’t recall hearing or seeing his name. We may have some material here that I’ve forgotten about over the years,” Zelda admitted.

“We’d like to check the special collections for information on Thornbeard. If you don’t have the time to help us, then unlocking the–”

“Ooh, a pair of infamous detectives want to unlock my special collection. Is that so?” Zelda questioned, adding a purr to her voice again.

While Zelda asked, the ginger-haired librarian leaned her upper body over the desk. Somewhere in the process, the top two buttons of her emerald green blouse came undone. Flashes of a lacy, black bra met the teens’ gazes.

“Do you want access to my special assets, Mr. Magnum?” the ginger vixen teased, running her fingers down the exposed cleavage and over the contours of her pushed-up bust. A tiny giggle followed as Jake’s head rocked backward with an astonished expression.

“You can just hand the key over to us,” Phinn suggested, slightly shaking his head at her behavior.

“You’re no fun, Phineas,” Zelda responded, rolling her eyes while her voice returned to normal. Then, while pushing her fingers deeper into her cleavage, her come-hither attitude returned. Pulling up a small chain, Zelda dangled a pair of keys at the outer edge of her cleavage. “I’m all for being helpful–in many ways–however, if you handsome sleuths manage to find the lost treasure, what’s in it for me? Do I get a reward? A cut? A gift? Or a seriously proper expression of your thanks?”

Locked in fully as the keys danced across the swells of the bra-encased C-cups, Jake missed how the librarian’s ass swayed back and forth suggestively. Phinn noticed it and finally decided to play the redhead’s game briefly.

“Alright, if we locate any of the treasure, then Jake will buy you an expensive lingerie set. But that’s only if you model it for him. Deal?”

“Deal!” Zelda exclaimed, grabbing Jake’s stunned hand to shake on the arrangement.

With a pleased grin, Zelda held up a finger before leaving the desk to notify a coworker that she’d be downstairs in the special collections room. While she disappeared, Jake turned to pull Phinn closer to him.

“What the hell is going on?” the stocky investigator demanded.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean; what do I mean?” Jake challenged, gesturing wildly.

“You mean Zelda’s flirting?”

“Flirting? Flirting! She’s practically eyefucking us,” Jake hissed, remembering at the last second to lower his voice.

“It’s nothing new. Zelda Imhoff is known for having a flirtatious demeanor. While she flirts with most men, and I think some women, who she finds attractive, Zelda is also extremely choosy about who she dates. Haven’t you never noticed before?”

“Not really. But she’s never flirted with us before! I feel like I’m in that one show where people end up in an alternate world.”

“Do you mean The Twilight Zone?”

“Not the vampire movies! The mirror one. Cracked Mirror or something,” Jake guessed.

“Black Mirror?”

“Yeah, that one!”

“Okay, but the other show isn’t those vampire films–” Phinn explained before Jake cut him off.

“Something happened to Zelda. I know it! Maybe she got turned into a vampire or one of those sucka-things,” Jake rambled in a sharp whisper. “We’d better watch it.”

“First, you mean a succubus. Second, there is that…” Phineas said, gesturing toward the morning sun rays that shone through the windows onto the main desk. “Third, I just explained that her behavior isn’t new.”

“It’s new to me! She’s never even once flirted with me or checked out my pants like she’s already done twice.”

“Jake, you heard her call us boys before correcting herself. That’s the difference. In the past, we were underage. Now, we’re over eighteen and fair game for her teasing. It’s not a big deal. She’s only playing around. I already dealt with it last week when I stopped in,” Phinn patiently explained. He also failed to mention that he’d first been thrown for a loop by the sudden flirting. However, he didn’t freak out like Jake did before he deciphered the reason for the behavior shift. “Don’t make things awkward.”

“I’m not the one acting weird. I’d…huh,” Jake trailed off while pondering the new development. Phinn shook his head as he knew precisely what was coming. “Actually, I’m cool with this. Why wouldn’t I be? She’s definitely a fuckable librarian. Look at those–”

Jake stopped listing his reasons when Zelda snapped her fingers to catch their attention. Then, she motioned at them to follow her toward the library’s rear. As they walked at a faster pace to catch up, the boys also noticed the redhead’s own rear. The playful librarian added an extra sway to her hips, which showcased the tight ass underneath her dark tan pencil skirt.

The two young private eyes followed the tantalizing rump past rolls of shelves, tables, and several armchairs for reading. They even walked past an old card catalog cabinet. No longer in use, the cabinet now stood as a display piece, harkening younger visitors back to the days before computers invaded the library. Finally, after entering a back hallway, Jake and Phineas followed Zelda down a U-shaped staircase. Eventually, they reached a locked door.

“Right,” Phinn said, realizing he didn’t mention the second subject they wanted to search for. “I’m going to need to look at copies of the Dispatch from around the 1880s.”

“You know what that means. You need to enter Microfiche Land,” Zelda announced, sounding like a game show host. She chuckled at Jake’s loud groan. “We’re not even close to transferring those decades to digital copies.”

“That’s fine. I knew that,” Phinn replied. “I can handle the microfiche while Jake searches in here for the pirate stuff.”

After a relieved sigh from his best friend, Phinn helped Zelda gather several boxes from the storage room. She also pointed at several filing cabinet drawers for Jake to remember.

“We don’t have the wide range of material like the historical society has, but I think these might be your best chances. They’re government and personal papers from the colonial era. You may find mentions of pirate sightings or scares. Often, those incidents were overblown or misunderstandings. Panics usually occurred after ships brought rumors or bits of facts when they arrived in port.”

“Can you recall hearing about any pirate hunters docking in Edgewater?” Phinn asked.

“Captain Nathanial Hawkins. He’s the primary name mentioned in several accounts from that era. Watch for the name of his ship, the Hermes. It was one of the English’s Royal Navy ships sent out to end the pirate scourge,” Zelda explained. “As for privateers, I can’t think of more than a few from that period, and I’m not sure if they encountered any pirates in the region while stopping at Edgewater to resupply. The only Edgewater citizen I know of who held a letter of marque during this period was Barnabas Tarr.”

“The Tarrs were one family I thought of,” Phinn acknowledged.

“The Tarrs, Blakelys, and Mormonts were the most prominent sea merchant families for a couple of centuries. However, we don’t have their family or business records. Most of the Blakely and Mormont papers were donated to Bentworth College. The Tarr family has never donated theirs. The last I heard, they still kept them in a personal archive at their mansion in Edgewater.”

It turned out that those three families and the companies they owned or ran were also Zelda's first suggestions when Phinn explained his search for the treasure expedition from approximately the 1880s. Leaving Jack behind in the collection room, Phinn and Zelda briefly separated. He went over to one of the four microfiche/microfilm readers the library still possessed. Once located in a corner on the main floor, the outdated technology now rested in a cramped former storeroom in the basement.

After retrieving several sheets of microfiches and rolls of microfilm, Zelda placed them on a table next to the reader. She then mulled over Phinn’s question about suggestions. He also mentioned the freighter that sank during a hurricane in 1893.

“The Bonnie Falconer. Sure, you should find plenty of news articles about it. It’s still the largest ship to sink near the entrance to Paddle Bay. Yet, I don’t think that’s your expedition. It was a legitimate cargo ship traveling from Southern Europe,” Zelda recalled.”

“Edgewater is small enough that I figure any ship during this time preparing a search might be discussed. Even if they kept their intentions secret, the newspaper likely had articles about some aspects of it stocking supplies or hiring a crew,” Phinn said while reacquainting himself with the reader’s controls.

“Are you only looking for a sunken ship?”

“Not at all. But it’s possible the skeleton diver was inside a sunken ship until recently. It would explain the smaller amount of wear and tear than expected,” Phinn explained, offering his rationalization.

“Hmm, let’s see. The late 1870s to early 1890s were an incredibly unlucky stretch for ships in the area. The weather was particularly nasty. Offhand, I can think of the New Mabel, J.S. Savidge, Little Idaho, and Chippewa, who all went down,” Zelda listed from memory.

After getting thanked, the librarian returned to check on Jake. Phinn sighed as he began to scroll through the old copies of the Edgewater Dispatch. Previous investigations left him familiar with the changes over time at the newspaper. Until now, the earliest period he’d ever searched through would’ve been the early 20th century. So, the differences in the paper dating back roughly a quarter century were stark. He also didn’t like starting from mostly scratch with an investigation. They’ve never had such few details to go on before.

Zelda returned after an hour. Phinn didn’t mind her spending more time with Jake. His partner needed additional help in searching through carefully preserved paperwork. All Phinn did was scroll down to stop on anything with the slightest chance of pertaining to their investigation. Names, ships, businesses, and weather-related events all had notes jotted down.

“Okay, what was with earlier? Doesn’t Jake know about Dusty’s upcoming visit?” Zelda queried. “I’m guessing you also talked to my favorite detective’s grandmother.”

“My mom talks to her all the time. I sometimes see her when I walk Bandit. But Jake doesn’t know, and let’s keep it that way.”

“How come? Did they have a falling out?”

“No, but Jake gets funny at times. He thinks Dusty hasn’t kept in touch enough. However, it’s Jake who can’t be on social media,” Phinn explained.

“Coach Turnbull still has the dumb rule?” Zelda asked, shaking her head in disgust.

“And he means it.”

“I know. I heard all about how he suspended Kody O’Keefe for a football game last season when he learned Kody had a secret account,” Zelda recalled, spotting Phinn’s inquisitive expression. “Hey, you won’t believe the stuff I hear around here.”

“Oh, I can believe it,” Phinn chuckled. He stopped to change microfilm rolls. “Also, I want to keep Dusty’s visit a surprise. The precise date isn’t set in stone yet, but Jake sometimes gets like an impatient kid before Christmas. I can’t handle the build-up.”

“I like the idea of a big surprise. Oh, he’ll probably be mad at you for a few minutes, but he’ll swiftly forget when his old friend is back,” Zelda promised, turning to check on Jack again.

Another hour passed as Phinn began to become distracted. Recognizing familiar names often sent him down rabbit holes. He read wedding announcements, **** notices, stories about grand galas and openings in the old society pages. Marriage, business, and political scandals caught his eye. Only minutes before Zelda returned, Phinn found something interesting that might relate to their case.

“What do you know about Jason Tarr?”

“Ah, the Tarrs. I knew you’d get around to asking more about them. Do you know much?” Zelda asked.

“Not really. I know they exist, and a few members still live in Edgewater. We had a case years ago that dealt slightly with one of their extended relatives,” Phinn admitted.

“The whole family is known for their wanderlust. Seemingly, every generation takes off to explore the world and have adventures before eventually returning to Edgewater and settling down. Some don’t return for various reasons, usually because they died. However, Jason Tarr remains a mystery to this day. He vanished without a trace. An experienced adventurer, Jason had already spent time in Central and South America, parts of Africa, and even Australia,” Zelda explained.

“Where was he headed to when he vanished?” Phinn questioned, writing down what the librarian knew.

“Nobody knows. Some family members claimed he went north to explore the Arctic. Others say he planned to return to one of the previous spots he visited. One rumor said he went off searching for a lost land or treasure. Don’t get your hopes up yet,” Zelda warned, holding up her hand. “First, that rumor referred to a jungle exploration. Second, Jason had a reputation as a heartthrob. He allegedly left lovers behind in every port he visited. Most Tarrs think he died or met a woman and stayed behind with her. The popular opinion is that he died because of a woman, likely at the hands of a jealous husband.”

“He owned a ship?” Phinn asked, noticing the mention of a schooner.

“I think it was named the Fleetwing or something close to it,” Zelda said, unsure of memory. “I only knew about him because one of the teachers at South High likes to assign local history as their research paper topic.”

“Hmm, yes, that is the name,” Phinn relayed, finding a mention of the ship.

“As I said, don’t jump to conclusions. That Tarr family wanderlust led to a decent number of deaths overseas, and Jason had more than one kind of lust.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phinn mumbled, waving off her point as he read the article intently.

Zelda rolled her eyes before she performed another sleight of hand trick, undoing the third button on her blouse. Leaning forward, the flirty librarian practically rested her bountiful breasts on the teen’s shoulder.

“Lust can cause people to act crazy. The Tarrs’ wanderlust indeed led to some members' undoing. You might brush off the idea and focus only on potential treasure-hunting, but you shouldn’t.”

“You said that Barnabas Tarr was a privateer for a time?” Phinn asked, his eyes never leaving the screen despite Zelda’s pair of eye-popping distractions.

“Yes, he was,” the older woman responded, sighing loudly. “I don’t know if he ever engaged with any pirates. A couple of years back, one kid managed to get permission from the Tarrs to read about their ancestor. Afterward, he seemed pretty disappointed. Of course, Mr. Jimenez raved about the exciting piece of history his student turned in. I suspect the kid bullshitted his way to an A.”

Zelda swung her hair around to her left shoulder with a flick of her wrist, leaving more bare skin next to Phinn. Slowly, she blew hot breath onto his neck. Phinn responded by slightly shaking his head in annoyance.

“You need to loosen up, kid. Live a little. Have fun.”

“I do have fun,” Phinn shot back.

“Besides investigating,” Zelda stated, aware of his definition of a good time. “Ask a girl out. Go on a date. I’m sure Jake can help. From what I’ve heard, he’s pretty good at it.”

“Jake is easily distracted, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Phineas declared, finally glancing over at her face.

“Indeed I did. I thought he might pass out from not breathing,” the ginger said, chuckling.

“You’re evil,” Phinn replied, not necessarily meaning it.

“I’m only a woman who finds amusing ways to make my day brighter. You need to discover a way. And do not say you don’t have desires. I’ve seen how you blush when a few specific girls have crossed your path within these walls,” Zelda recalled.

“Now you are sounding like Jake.”

“If you don’t get your butt in gear, I’ll enlist Dusty. I know that’s someone who won’t mind literally kicking you there.”

“That’s true,” Phinn admitted, finally smiling.

“Look, there is nothing wrong about being a virgin at your age. Don’t feel embar–”

“I’m not a virgin,” the bespectacled teen declared.

“Oh, well, call me intrigued now. I bet there is a fascinating story behind it,” Zelda remarked.

However, her attempts to probe for more details failed. Giving up for now, she returned to help Jake, only to learn another surprise while in the doorway. Phinn told her not to bother asking Jake, as his best friend didn’t know about it.

Another hour passed with Phinn focusing exclusively on learning everything he could about the Tarr family. Upon reaching the 1920s, he stopped his research when Zelda re-entered with Jake. They’d exhausted every possibility the librarian could think of with no luck.

“You find anything?” Jake asked, noticing the legal pad filled with notes.

“A few things on the Tarrs. I want to see the Blakely and Mormont family papers at Bentworth. We’ll head down there after hitting up the historical society.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t find more,” Zelda apologized while having another potential idea. “Gertie is off today for an appointment. I’ll ask if she heard of either subject when I talk to her next.”

A thirty-year veteran of the Dillingday Library and Zelda’s superior, Gertrude Sanger might know more about Thornbeard and an expedition. Both boys thanked the librarian before heading upstairs.

“Fuck, I hope Trina forgives me for last night,” Jake commented, pulling at his shorts.

“Zelda got you worked up?”

“I don’t know how you aren’t! Damn, that’s an older woman who I bet is wild in bed. It’s always those nerdy ones,” Jake proclaimed.

“And you know this how?” Phinn challenged. While he didn’t pry, the teen was well-acquainted with his best friend’s sexual history. “It’s past noon. Let’s get our visit to the historical society over with.”

“I don’t know why we have to go. It’s not like we’re going to find anything out,” Jake whined, feeling his stomach rumble. “Let’s get lunch.”

“Look, we need to make an appearance. It’s going to be expected. So if we don’t, people are going to wonder why. Do you want questions asked? We fit the size of two of those intruders,” Phinn specified his reasoning.

---

“You gotta be shitting me,” Jake exclaimed, slamming the car door shut. He’d been **** to park three blocks away from the Kelpie County Historical Society.

“Told ya,” Phinn responded. Yet, his eyebrows raised at the sheer number of people who appeared headed to the same destination. “Lost treasure, pirates, and burglaries pique people’s interest.”

“We better not have to wait in line,” Jake grumbled. A new potential obstacle entered his mind. “Do you think any competition will be here? You know, another group of crime solvers.”

“I wouldn’t think so. The interview aired relatively late last night, and the break-in development wasn’t reported until early this morning. The Factfinders might be the only one I can see making it here in time. Still, it’s a four-hour drive from Falconbridge,” Phinn speculated. “They could be a problem soon if the story has legs.”

“The issue with The Factfinders is that they can cover double our amount of work with four members,” Jake complained.

“True, but Edgewater is our home turf. Isn’t that key in competitions?”

“Right! We got a home-field advantage. The Factfinders ain’t got nothing on us,” Jake cheered. His confidence immediately slipped away after they turned the corner. “Shit! We’re going to have to wait in line.”

“Perhaps,” Phineas replied, somewhat surprised by the lengthy line that ran down the side of the building and up to the nearby street. He spotted at least two cops conducting crowd control.

Under different circumstances, he’d be way more upset than Jake. But there wasn’t a burning need to swiftly get inside the historical society. They already knew there wasn’t anything useful in its archives. Phinn felt far more confident about not missing anything last night than today at Dillingday Library. So, while getting through the doors at once wasn't necessary, people in Edgewater would expect them to cut in line by begging or trickery.

“Man, I knew we should’ve stopped for food,” Jake whined again.

“Haven’t we discussed this before? Leave snacks in the car,” his partner reminded.

“In this heat? Everything would probably melt!”

“Okay, you may have a point,” Phinn admitted.

At Phinn’s urging, the junior sleuths tried to gain a better spot in the line. Their three attempts were rejected, with two earning them jeers and insults. Jake took them personally while Phinn shrugged the shouts off. Even if he didn’t care, the brainy teen took mental notes about the insulters’ identities for future reference.

Fortunately, the line dwindled as people complained about not finding anything upon exiting. Several line waiters gave up, and others left to get lunch, which Jake wanted to do. His thoughts about food increased as their time under the sweltering sun lengthened.

After a forty-minute wait, Jake and Phineas entered the historical society legally through the front door this time. Both teens immediately scanned the section where Jake had slammed Red Mask into the glass display case. The case was roped off, and the glass shards had been removed. The damage only added to the chaos.

People argued, jostled, and occasionally threatened one another as they searched desperately for clues to the lost treasure. Either seeking not to repeat another crime or assuming they’d be called at some point, the EPD had stationed an officer inside. Patrolling the interior, he barked orders to behave or not to remove items from the displays or walls.

A sixty-year-old man with short gray hair frantically raced around the large room in an attempt to keep order. Halfway past the amateur detectives, he abruptly stopped with a stern glare.

“Don’t even think of it today,” Stanley Gladden warned, wagging his finger. The executive director turned to flag down the patrolling officer. Pointing at Jake and Phinn, he warned the cop to keep an eye on them. “I don’t know how, but I have a gut feeling these two are involved in this mess. They always are.”

“Roger that,” Officer Campen acknowledged. He started to cross over toward the two meddlers until a chestnut brunette cut him off.

“Look who finally arrived, everybody. The finest detectives in Edgewater are in the house!” Johanna announced, holding her phone up while introducing Jake and Phinn to her followers.

“What are you doing here?” Phineas asked, taken back by the wannabe influencer’s presence. He knew from past classes that the chatty brunette hated history class. His negative attitude caused Johanna to turn off her camera.

“I’m now a citizen reporter!” she announced.

“A what?” Jake questioned while Phinn groaned.

“My traffic and viewer engagement went through the roof last night after the news aired that interview. Suddenly, I’m an eyewitness to The Great Summer Treasure Hunt! What do you think of the name? I’m not sure if I like it. I’m also considering The Edge of Thorny’s Plunder. Get it?”

“Where’s your cousin?” Jake asked politely.

“Oh, stab me in the heart, Jake!” Johanna shrieked, placing her phone over the same body part. Strangely, with all the chaos in the building, it didn’t draw much attention. “Hillarie will be delighted that you asked, but I’m not thrilled about being overlooked. I’m the one standing right here.”

“Jake isn’t interested in your cousin. He’s merely being polite. He likes to make small talk,” Phinn revealed disdainfully.

“So you’re saying I have a chance? I’ll take it!” Johanna squealed. While Jake groaned, she mumbled under her breath about Jake stabbing her elsewhere. “Okay, it’s time for my exclusive–-it better be exclusive—interview with The Stud and The Brain. Ready?”

“No!” Jake and Phinn responded simultaneously.

“Do not call us that!” Phinn hissed. When Johanna placed her hands on her hips with a glare, he gestured at his best friend. “Take care of this.”

“Me?”

“I need to do something,” Phinn said, spotting another classmate.

Without waiting for a reply, he worked his way around several people until he reached Stan Gladden’s granddaughter. She appeared to be lending a hand at the historical society today. About as much of a fan of Phinn as her grandfather, the investigator fully anticipated how the exchange would go down.

“Olive! Olive! Over here!” Phinn flagged down the frazzled girl.

“Oh, no!” Olive Gladden roared, coming to a stop in front of her classmate.

“Hey, great to see you, Olive. Wow, it sure is crazy in here. Could you get me and Jake past those people and into the archive room upstairs?”

“Absolutely not! I am not in the mood for your nonsense today, Phineas Farris. Don’t even say another word to me, got that?” Olive immediately spun around to locate Officer Campen. “Keep an eye on this one. He’s trouble.”

Suddenly, a commotion broke out from the hallway leading to the stairs. People parted as a petite young woman with fine blonde hair, a spray-on tan, and several splotches of cover-up makeup on her face dashed through. In her hand, she clutched a small rolled-up piece of canvas.

“I found it! I found a treasure map!”

The room's din immediately evaporated as the petite blonde unrolled the map. Gripping it with two hands, she held it out in front of her. Phinn and Olive’s view disappeared as a young man with sandy brown hair and eyeglasses rushed forward. Before anyone could react, he snapped several pictures with his phone.

Outraged, the young woman attempted to hide the map’s contents by folding the canvas. Unfortunately, she didn’t perform the move in time. The young man turned to race out of the historical society with a shouted, “Thanks!”

Recognition and realization about the young man caused Phinn to slap his forehead in disgust.