Page 41 of Southernmost Murder

That left for a hell of a lot of uncounted riches.

This part I liked. Real history, with facts and evidence and tangible items recovered and restored. The shit in the next room—the dumb pirate crap Cassidy had been trying to put together? No. Just no.

I grabbed Jun’s hand and dragged him to a display featuring one of the recovered coins. “Look at this! Minted in the New World. Mexico—you can tell by the reserve stamp of the cross. Grade OneAtochacoins can fetch upward of ten grand. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Very interesting,” he agreed. “But these aren’t pirate treasures, right?”

“No, sunken treasure belonging to King Philip IV.”

“Then why is it in Key Pirates?”

“This place used to be called Key Treasures,” I explained. “Then Cassidy was hired, and I don’t know what he did to convince the owner, but Glen changed the name to Pirates and has been letting Cassidy expand and create pirate displays.” I shrugged and let go of Jun’s hand to slide my arm around his waist. “Maybe Glen will drop this pirate stuff now.”

“Seems to me that Cassidy had to be onto something,” Jun said as he walked with me to the display of an emerald ring that was worth so much, I could buy a New York City penthouse with the sale.

“What do you mean?”

“He must have had a reason for finding a connection between Smith and pirates. You know?”

I looked up. “Yeah, but who are you going to believe, him or me?”

“You, of course.”

“Damn right.”

“Still leaves for unanswered questions,” Jun said quietly.

“Smith lost an eye at sea,” I stated. “Maybe that’s how the rumor was born. Eye patches and peg legs are all anyone thinks when you saypirate.”

“Aubrey Grant?” someone piped up.

Jun and I both turned around. Was that Glen? I thought it was Glen. He was an older guy, maybe in his midfifties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a bit of a gut. I let go of Jun. “Hi, Glen.”

“I haven’t seen you around here for some time.” Glen hurried over and shook my hand.

“I suppose not. I, uhm—hey, Glen? About Lou Cassidy….”

Glen’s eyes widened. “Oh God. You haven’t heard.”

“No, I—”

Glen looked at Jun as he took my shoulder. “We’ll only be a minute.”

“Glen!” I protested, but he’d already started dragging me across the show floor and through another door.

“Aubrey, I’m so sorry to say this,” Glen stated upon shutting the door and turning to stare at me. “It’s about Lou.”

“He’s dead,” I stated.

“Yes!” Glen hissed. “The police said he was—oh, Aubrey, I’m so ashamed. I thought Lou was a good man. He’s really done a lot for my museum over the last year. I was going to come see you in person.”

“For what?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“To apologize, on Lou’s behalf. Breaking and entering?” Glen put a hand to his belly like he had indigestion. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right,” I insisted. “Honestly. And I know we’ve never been buddy-buddy,” I continued, making a quick motion between us. “But between businessmen, I appreciate this.”

Glen nodded. “I hope this hasn’t tarnished your opinion of me.”