ONE MORE CLUE

Happy Friday everyone! I was really pleased with the way you all responded to Maddox because it was what I was aiming for - part of you thought he was okay or likable, but you were still suspicious of him. Well, keep your suspicions about you as you read the next chapter! This another big one. Big as in important, but also long - with this story, I'm writing in Calibri Pt. 11 as opposed to the Arial Pt. 12 I did with Another Clue. Still tenpage minimum, so there'll always be a little more than AC's chapters. Thanks to all of you the read and reviewed! Feedback on this chapter appreciated, too!

. Anonymous Reviewers .

x) Allie - Maddox is all kind of shady, so keep your eye on him. Glad you're still liking it, and thanks for reviewing! :)

- Dis/Claimer –

x x x

. Chapter Two .

Ridden with a slight headache since the interview, Maddox had only wanted everyone to disappear so he could continue to thoroughly inspect the tiny pin. Finally, when it was very late, Maddox was able to take leave and retreat to his small home near the beach. He chose not to return to the boat; he’d slept there for the last week straight. His back screamed for a proper bed, and who was he to deny himself that? He had just had the big breakthrough he was after for god knows how long.

The house was characteristically quiet, Maddox being the only residence since his father’s passing. It was a typical beach house by his standards filled with fishing supplies, seashells, and carefree atmosphere. The way it has always been preferred, to Maddox in any case.

He didn’t want to go anywhere near his office, but he wandered into it anyway. Maddox flopped into the desk chair and lazily swiveled about, eyes resting on a picture of him and Priscilla the day he helped her move out of her apartment in Wilmington. She had readily agreed to come help him with this wild goose chase after four years of acquaintance, and it had honestly surprised him.

‘You’re really going to come?’ he asked.

She let out a laugh. ‘Why not? Better than spending the rest of my life observing. Time to start doing.’

He smiled at her, her headstrong independence growing on him. ‘Great! Dinner on me tonight. I’ll show you the search plots I have drawn up. My boat’s almost finished, too; just waiting for a few more shipments of late equipment to arrive. We’ll spend most of the time on the boat-‘

‘You don’t mind putting me up for a few weeks until I find a place, do you?’ she interrupted. ‘Until your boat is finished and all?’

‘No, of course not. Small beachy bungalow, but always room for a guest. It’ll be too quiet by myself now anyways. I could use the company.’

‘I’d be glad to accompany you.’

They smiled at one another, Maddox taking off his tie. ‘We shall get along famously, I think.’

He thought fondly of those weeks she had spent sitting around the house with him, waking up to the smell of coffee, falling asleep on the couch after an exhausting day of prepping the boat…

“That’s enough,” he groaned to himself as he stretched in his chair. As he relaxed back down with a yawn, the phone on the desk gave a shrill ring, causing him to wince. He picked up the phone quickly to make the painfully annoying sound stop.

“Good evening, Whittacre speaking,” he said with a tired sigh, leaning back in the chair.

“Maddox, you’re still awake?”

He sat up at Priscilla’s voice, a little life coming back into him.

“Y-Yes, still up, but not for long,” he said with another stretch. “Heading off soon unless something’s wrong. Everything at the boat alright?”

“We’re fine here, but an Agent Joseph Myers of the FBI is on the other line and wants me to patch through to you,” she shouted over the sounds of the boat’s crane. “Did you want to speak with him?”

“Oh, yes! Let me talk to him,” Maddox said, now quite attentive.

“Alright.”

Maddox reached out to his laptop and punched the spacebar repeatedly until the screen lit up. It was filled with several opened files, grids, itineraries, and news articles. He closed all of them out quickly as the patch was made and a voice came through.

“Hello, Mr. Whittacre?”

“Yes! Joseph, good to hear from you! Finally,” Maddox laughed, opening a satellite window on the computer desktop. “You were supposed to call me twelve hours ago.”

“I had more than several things to attend to first,” the strong voice on the other end replied.

“Yes, Agent Myers,” Maddox said with a schoolchild’s sarcasm.

“What did you need, Whittacre?”

Noting his colleague’s impatience, Maddox cleared his throat and spoke in a more businesslike manner. “I found it.”

“The treasure?” Myers asked in disbelief.

“No, but wouldn’t that be nice?” Maddox mused. “No, I found the pin, the magnetic pin,” he whispered enthusiastically. “I finally found it, and it’s going to lead me to the treasure. It’s what I’ve been missing all this time.”

“A pin is going to lead you to the treasure?” Myers asked with a skeptical chuckle.

“I just need my compass,” Maddox explained.

“Well alright, so go get your compass.”

“It’s not like it’s sitting in a shoebox under my bed, Joseph,” Maddox said, typing in an address on the satellite and hitting ‘search.’ His tone was suddenly grave. “I might need some reassurance from you that if I behave a little outside the lines you’ll cover me.”

Myers was silent a moment. “I will provide you cover under one condition.”

Always one condition, Maddox thought. “What?”

“What exactly happened to your compass that you need blanketed from the FBI?”

The satellite zoomed in close on a large house in Maryland and stopped.

“I don’t have it in my possession any longer,” Maddox said. “Things may get out of hand when I go to retrieve it, so I need you to make sure the law stays out of my way.”

“I cannot excuse you for murder-“

“I’m not harming a fly,” Maddox said, overriding him firmly. “I don’t intend to anyway.”

“And whose possession is the compass in?” Myers asked expectantly.

Maddox bit his lip, a slight surge of betrayal overcoming him.

“Ian Howe’s.”

Myers arched an eyebrow on the other end in confusion. “Mr. Whittacre, Ian Howe has been dead for the past… seven months now. His belongings – and your compass – may very well be in opposite corners of the world by now.”

“No, it is right where he left it,” Maddox told him matter-of-factly.

“How do you plan to get it?” Myers asked. “Is this why you need me to overlook your potential illegalities?”

“Yes and no,” Maddox said slowly, looking at the house on the satellite image. “It won’t be as easy as breaking and entering. He’s got a custom network of security and codec on his clients’ filing system no one on the outside can break. Believe me, we’ve already tried several times, remember?”

“Will you get Dominic to hack it?”

“Why do that when there’s someone on the inside still left?”

“Who?”

Maddox’s mouth curved into a smile.

“His sister.”

x x x

The next day came with more snow and the return of Ben and Abigail. Riley felt guilty at how relieved he was that they were finally back, but he had his reasons; he and Carolyn were due to move into the Estate that day. So, after a quick lunch and catch-up conversation (Riley had almost dropped his fork. “Swiss bank account?”), all seven of them loaded up the moving van in the light snowfall. Surprisingly, there wasn’t much to bring, though Bill and Betsy did present a unique challenge. Charlie and Sally started out helping, but they ended up exploring the house inside and out while Alex crawled around in the more confined space of the living room.

At one point, Riley found himself alone on the third floor in the doorway of Carolyn’s old room.

Ian’s old nursery.

No kid of his would be raised in this room.

Or maybe he’d at least paint it a different color first and get new furniture…

He suddenly knew what he was getting Carolyn for her birthday.

Later, after the last of the truck had been unloaded, Riley and Carolyn bid goodnight to Ben, Abigail, and the children with a promise that they could come spend the night sometime soon. Riley hated that they loved the house; he had no one to side with him now, not even Ben. The fact that their once-enemy lived in this place his entire life didn’t seem to have an effect on anyone’s opinion but his. Riley ultimately felt alone regarding the issue.

Exhausted as the day had left them, Riley and Carolyn began unpacking a few small things before turning in for the night. Carolyn was upstairs in the master bedroom throwing some of Ian’s old clothes into numerous black trash bags so she could make room for their own when Riley came running into the room, panting from his sprint up the stairs.

“I’ve got to go back to the manor,” he said choppily, car keys in hand. Her shoulders fell, but Riley spoke quickly before she could retort. “I left your computer and the stuff that goes with it! All the software and plug-ins,” he reasoned. “Oh, and, I think we forgot a plastic bin of clothes.”

Carolyn looked around the sea of clothing she sat in, sure that everything was there. “What clothes?” she asked in confusion, pushing a box of t-shirts to the side. Riley fell silent as she looked at him.

“Myyyy…”

“You’re what?”she asked at his awkwardness.

“Boxers,” he said quickly to the floor. As expected, he heard Carolyn laugh and gave her a look. “Come on, I’m not going without underwear. It’s cold.”

“Fine,” she laughed, tossing Ian’s old shoes into a garbage bag. “Just be careful; snow’s picking up.”

“I know.”

“If it gets too bad, just stay there til morning,” she said as he turned to go. “Come back here if you can, but you know, if it’s unavoidable…”

“Got it,” he said, closing his hand around the car keys and heading down the hall. “I’ll be back around eleven, twelve at the latest.”

“Oh! Bring back some hot cocoa and Indiana Jones!”

Riley appeared back in the doorway with his eyebrows pinched together. “Indiana Jones?”

“Yeah, I’m in the mood to cuddle, sip cocoa, and fall asleep watching Indy,” she said innocently at his dumbfounded look. It was almost comical.

“Do we have to watch Indy?” he groaned. “I’ve got The Matrix in a box downstairs with the rest of my decently-sized movie collection. How about Hot Fuzz?”

Carolyn pouted. “I’m sure Ben won’t mind if you ask nicely to borrow Raiders of the Lost Ark.”

“Raiders of the Lost Ark?” Riley asked in surprise. “I thought I was getting The Last Crusade?”

“Nope, Raiders,” she said. Her smile grew triumphantly as he sulked away in defeat back down the hall.

“Fine. We watch Hot Fuzz next time!” he shouted back to her. “And I’m still grabbing The Last Crusade!”

“Okay!”

Still smiling, Carolyn listened to his footsteps die as they descended the large staircase. She stuffed the last of Ian’s shoes into the bag and tied it shut, pushing it against the other bags of her brother’s clothes. She stood and stretched her stiff legs a little, now picking up a stack of Riley’s shirts to hang in the wardrobe.

x x x

Two hours seemed to go by in no time for Carolyn despite the lonesome feeling of being the only one in the large, empty house. She kept busy so that the time was easier to pass. She felt ghosts of memory follow her around as she unpacked; Ian would chuckle from a doorway, her family would sit in the living room watching television, the kitchen would be filled with the bustle of preparing Christmas dinner. Some were vivid in comparison to others, but no matter what, Carolyn knew she had to buckle down and learn to ignore them (or, at best, live with them).

At one point, she plugged Riley’s computer into the wall for some music to relieve the place of some of its stale silence. Up at full volume with a set of speakers attached to it, the music reached the second floor without a problem where she was in Ian’s adolescent bedroom, the room he had stayed in when she last lived there.

The room, not quite as spacious as the master bedroom, had undergone some changes since she’d last seen it; specifically, it had been turned into something or the other of a small library. All of the original furniture was gone and replaced with some leather sitting chairs and a coffee table facing a small fireplace. Dust had collected on the exposed tops of the low cabinets and other various surfaces, but Carolyn conquered it with a Swiffer duster and vacuum in less than twenty minutes.

Now the heater was finally kicking on, burning a hot patch on the side of Carolyn’s jeans as she cleared some of the books from the shelf. She shifted away from the heater as best as she could while still stretching to reach the upper shelves. Maybe Riley could help her when he got-

Suddenly, the music downstairs quieted. Carolyn turned around happily, but she stopped at the sight of the clock on the mantle. It was only a few minutes until ten.

Maybe the car broke down or got stuck and he had to come back?

There was no way he was back that fast…

“Riley? Is that you?” she called, walking towards the door. There was no response save the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs. Confused, she made to go out into the hall.

“Riley, answer me-“

“Riley isn’t here.”

Carolyn screamed as a tall man in sunglasses entered the doorway right in front of her. She took several steps back immediately, bracing herself against the cabinets.

“What are you doing? Get out!” she shouted, grasping a letter opener in her hand.

“I’m really sorry for the confusion, Miss Howe,” the man said calmly as he removed his sunglasses and smiled at her, “but I’m not here to cause you or your fiancé any harm. I would have knocked, but I doubt you could hear anything over that blaring music you had playing.”

Carolyn relaxed slightly at this, her scorn lightening in familiarity. “Do I…? I know you,” she stated curiously. “I…” She paused. It suddenly came to her, rendering her awestruck. “You’re… Maddox Whittacre?”

“Bit of a shocker, I know,” he said. “I promise not to make such a startling entrance next time, how about that?”

“W-Well, fine, that’s fine,” she said, trying to recover coolly from her scare (and the fact the Maddox Whittacre himself was standing five feet from her in her own home!). She tried not to seem overeager, but her smile was traitorous. “I, uh, sorry. It’s just, I’ve been wanting to meet you for some time now, and it’s great to finally do so,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Likewise,” Maddox said politely, “even in such a casual camera-free vicinity.”

Carolyn laughed. “Oh, yes, it is,” she agreed unintelligently. She underlined the mental note sharply that told her to think before she spoke from now on and made her smile more modest. “Is there something I can help you with?” she asked, leading him back downstairs. “I’m sure you’ve been trying to get in touch with Benjamin Gates for a while now.”

“I have, but with the recent passing of his mother, I thought I might let him contact me,” Maddox said, running his hand down the smooth banister. “I lost my father in October; it’s a really trying situation and personal time in your life.”

“Yes,” Carolyn said to match the quiet tone of his voice.

“You’ve probably come to learn that yourself,” he said as they reached the foot of the stairs. He walked over into the living room, Carolyn looking at him quickly. “Your brother, Ian,” he clarified. Carolyn still felt something tug at her heart at the mention of it, unable to meet his eyes.

“Yes, it was… awful, the way things had… ended,” she murmured, thinking none-too-kindly of Ian’s relentless mindset to have her murdered the week preceding Oak Island. Maddox stared at her plainly, making her feel very exposed. She drew a deep breath and collected herself with a smile resurfacing. “It’s done now, though.”

“Ah, a riff in the family blood I presume?” Maddox asked conversationally. Carolyn was a little thrown off at how casually he spoke of it and felt herself turning defensive (even if he was correct).

“We had our differences like anyone else,” she told him a little less than tolerantly. “Equally, we both had stubbornness and a passionate hate for one another that was an uncompromisable barrier between us. Having said that, there was hardly ever resolution.”

“Shame.”

Carolyn rolled her eyes at his contradicting statement. “Not really.” She decided not to dwell on talk of Ian anymore; he was dead and he was still able to make her angry (which made her even angrier). She looked up at Maddox as he continued to wander slowly through the living room, glancing at a few pictures and items around him. Feeling somewhat vulnerable by his presence suddenly, she cocked her head to the side and gave her voice a little edge.

“So, you never did tell me why you came, Mr. Whittacre.”

Maddox picked up the tone in her voice with intrigue, circling back to her. “That’s right, I never got straight to business,” he said nonchalantly. “Where are my manners?”

“Perhaps with whatever business you’d like to discuss?” she tried innocently. He smirked.

“Hmm… possibility.”

Although Carolyn had (on occasion) fantasized about flirting with this man, his charm had little appeal and affect on her now. “Mr. Whittacre, how can I help you?” she asked firmly, boring into his eyes. He brought his smile down a bit, but not the mischief in his eyes.

“Well, you see, Miss Howe,” he began, “the matter I am here to address… I would not bother to involve you in the least way since you have little or no knowledge of it, but as it turns out, you are the only person I can come to about this seeing as Ian is no longer with us.”

Carolyn narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Something that started, I’ll say, over ten years ago,” Maddox said, looking upward as he approximated the time line. “I’m not sure you’ll remember; I don’t even think I met you but once in passing.”

Carolyn blinked. “Met? I’ve never met you in person.”

At least she didn’t think she had…

“Oh yes, we exchanged hellos and line or two,” Maddox said with a smile. He leaned towards Carolyn as if to tell her a secret. “I was one of your brother’s first clients.”

Carolyn stared at him, searching her mind rapidly for any trace of a memory of which his face might have faded into the background. Nothing was coming to her. Maddox somehow continued to find humor in this situation even though her defenses had not backed off.

“It was a day or so before Thanksgiving I met you,” he told her. “You were pretty young; maybe just out of high school? It was on that staircase we just came down.” Carolyn looked back at it, projecting transparent images onto it as he said, “Ian and I were going upstairs and you were on your way down. Your mother had called or something…”

From the top of the stairs, Carolyn rolled her eyes to see her brother and one his ‘clients’ coming up. She hated that he was actually good at what he did, but she was just as talented in the art studio at MassArt. She wished Thanksgiving break would just be over so she could go back.

She kept her head down to her sketchpad as she descended the stairs, but the corner of it snagged the man’s shirt. She cursed herself as he stopped.

“Oh! Hello, I’m sorry,” the man said, patting the corner of her notebook. “Not watching where I’m going.”

“No, it was my fault,” Carolyn said with the flash of a grim smile. She went to continue downstairs, but the man tapped her notebook to stop her again. Carolyn and Ian exchanged looks, neither thrilled to be stuck on the same staircase together this long.

“Who is this, Ian?” the man asked, looking her up and down.

“This is my sister,” Ian said with difficultly. “Carolyn.”

“Interesting drawing, Carolyn,” the man between them said, nodding to her charcoal sketch of a mountainous landscape. She brought it to her chest to protect it from his eyes, but he still smiled. “Very detailed. You should consider cartography as a career.”

She said nothing. Ian nudged his client’s arm.

“Don’t encourage her,” he said, giving her a look as if she hosted a highly contagious disease. “Let’s go have a look at our terms, shall we?”

“Of course.” He smiled back at Carolyn although she was already moving back down the stairs. “A pleasure!”

Carolyn shut her eyes. His face had encountered hers in what seemed another life. Her sense of familiarization now positively identified, she opened her eyes on him. She wanted to believe otherwise, but he smugly lifted an eyebrow at her crestfallen face. Noticing her mouth was slightly agape, she quickly shut it.

“S- So. I was mistaken,” she admitted, still coming out of the fog of the memory. Maddox nodded slowly with a subtly piercing stare.

“Oh yes, you were.”

“I don’t understand why I wouldn’t remember it,” she said more to herself than him, trying to figure out her personal mystery.

“I remember it well enough for the both of us,” Maddox said in a low voice. “I think you may have tried to forget every little moment you spent in this house before you left. I came back the following week, and Ian said you had gone for good. He never spoke of you after that. Thought you dead up until a few months ago.”

Carolyn nodded to the floor. “That would make sense.”

“Of course it would; you said you had differences beyond time’s repair.”

“Enough of the sibling therapy, Mr. Whittacre,” she snapped. He took a step back, but she took two forward with danger radiating from her glare. “Would you kindly tell me why you are here in my home to see me?”

“You have something of mine,” he stated civilly.

“And what would that be?”

“An artifact I need to further my expedition and research in matters concerning Roanoke’s history,” he said. He opened his mouth to continue when Carolyn chuckled. He folded his hands in front of him attentively at her rude interruption. “Do you doubt me, Miss Howe?”

“As hard as it is for me to say it, yes,” she replied, heavily sarcastic in her impatience. She felt like she was arguing with Riley when they had first met, certain that she could keep going much longer than Maddox could. Their eye contact remained intense. Maddox ran his hand over his mouth.

“Alright, well, being let in on it might help,” he said.

“Please,” Carolyn encouraged heatedly, “enlighten me.”

Maddox cleared his throat, and Carolyn repositioned herself expectantly. She was very close to grabbing the light standing beside her and knocking him over the head with it.

“As I said before, this started over ten years ago when I met your brother,” Maddox explained. “I was looking for investors for excavation of the Lost Colony in the region I now occupy, but I was short-staffed, unorganized, needed a leg up in the financial department… So, I came to Ian as one of his first clients.”

Carolyn tried to make it fit the timeline, and it did; Ian was just starting into the career a few months before she had left home. It checked out. She nodded once, issuing for him to continue.

“He was the best I could’ve come to, and he worked hard to make things happen. But, progress on my end was behind schedule and slowing down more, so it was no surprise that he dropped my project for another that showed ‘great promise,’” Maddox said bitterly. Carolyn narrowed her eyes.

“Another project?”

“The Templar Treasure,” he rebounded with a fantastic smile. Her anger transformed again to disbelief, curling his lips even more. “I was a prime client for about a year until Benjamin Gates came knocking on his door with a more ‘realistically obtainable treasure,’ or so that’s what Ian had said. My project just couldn’t hold his interest after that day, so my funding was cut, and I developed an unresolved grudge.”

“I see,” Carolyn said carefully, wondering who exactly this grudge was against. She’d have to call Ban after this. “But, sir, I still fail to understand why I am suddenly a part of this.”

“Obviously because Ian is dead now and you’ve inherited all of his possessions,” Maddox said. Carolyn was still not making any sense out of it.

“So what? He had something of yours?” she asked. “Is this about a metal detector or something? Money?”

“No, no money, no metal detectors,” he chuckled before his face darkened again. “See, Ian was very good at making sure he had some form of down payment even if you were flat broke at the time. I gave him a family heirloom in exchange for his services until I could properly pay him, but I never got it back. Even after we severed ties.”

Carolyn found the need to smile. “Ian was never good at sharing when it came in conflict with his greed, Mr. Whittacre. “

“So I’ve come to learn,” he said, leery of her grin. She was, after all, a relative of the man that had double-crossed him. He searched her face for a crack in her stony expression, but she seemed impervious to it and remained aplomb. “Have you any clue what I’m talking about? Where Ian may have kept my down payment?”

“I would venture to say a bank,” she replied.

“No, no. Come now, Carolyn, you know your brother better than that,” Maddox chided lightly. “He keeps things close to him at all times. Why, with such an exquisitely large home, use something as obvious as a bank?”

“I’m not him,” she said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know where he would have put your ‘heirloom.’ I haven’t been in this house in years; how am I supposed to know? I’m sure at one point I’ll find whatever you’re looking for at which time I can give you a call, but could you please leave now?”

“I’m not one to be brash, Miss Howe, but I came with the intent of retrieving my compass from this property,” he told her, taking a step towards her. She felt her courage breaking under his towering figure. “I will not be leaving without it.”

“A compass?” she echoed skeptically to uphold her confidence. “A compass is going to help solve ‘the mystery’ of Roanoke?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, but how can you change the facts of history with a compass? And why not buy a new one?” she bravely asked. “I’m sure you can afford new family heirlooms by now.”

Maddox felt his blood coursing with anger, and he penetrated her eyes with determination. “You have very nefarious insults.”

“You have a very flimsy story,” she countered without missing a beat.

“And what part of it is ‘flimsy?’”

Carolyn made a sound between a laugh and a snort. “Ian accepted a compass from you so you could start excavation. A compass for the promise of getting paid without an exact date? I’m assuming you didn’t give him an exact date of paying him.”

“No, he simply agreed to the terms.”

“Ian would not have just agreed to that!” she said, poking him sharply in the chest. There was something he wasn’t telling her, and she was going to find out what it was. “He always makes sure he’s guaranteed something on time, and if there’s any exception to that rule, it would have to be pretty big. So, exactly how were you going to repay him in that he took a compass for a promise?”

“You’re being quite irrational-“

“No, I am extremely rational right now, sir,” she said, cutting him off. “I’m not giving you anything until I know the truth.”

“It does not concern you.”

“If it concerned Ian, it concerns me now,” she made clear. “He knew what to expect from you if you wanted that compass back, so I want in: what’s the big secret?”

Maddox found himself smiling despite the situation. “It’s actually not that big of a secret at all.”

“It must be,” Carolyn said with no regard to the mischief of his grin. She stepped on his foot hard and slow, instantly wiping the grin off his face.

“Ow! Get off, you oaf,” he said, kicking her foot away. The anger in his face rose dramatically, but Carolyn would not move for anything.

“Tell me the truth,” she demanded. “This isn’t about the truth of Roanoke’s history.”

“It most certainly is, and I swear to that.” His statement was resolute, true, and peeved by her accusation. Carolyn was cautious to believe the sincerity and seriousness of his tone, but it was inarguably plausible. There was just some kind of loophole throwing it all off. Ian wouldn’t just do that. Not with anyone-

She paused, one of his comments suddenly bouncing back at her.

‘…knocking on his door with a more ‘realistically obtainable-‘

“Treasure.”

Maddox’s mouth fell open wordlessly as he stood stricken, staring at her blank face. “Pardon me?” Slowly, her eyes met his torn between rage and wonder as she pieced it together.

“You promised him a treasure,” she said, astonished. Maddox cleared his throat, keeping a cool head.

“I promised him double the cost it would take to fund me immediately,” he justified.

“And some,” Carolyn added provocatively. “You can always repay someone with a mound of shiny gold coins.” Maddox said nothing as he studied her face, so she took the silence as prospect to continue. “Your treasure, not your project, just couldn’t hold his interest,” she corrected him. “Too small compared to the Templar’s, I suppose.”

Maddox patiently spoke. “What led you to such a wild conclusion that treasure was involved? Has Ben got you brainwashed or something that ‘everything’s a clue’ and ‘everyone’s a Mason’ and ‘history is a mystery that’s fun-‘”

“Several articles have you referencing to a Lost Treasure, so don’t even pin it on Ben,” Carolyn said at his pathetic attempt of a cover-up. “And you said Ian dropped your project for a more obtainable treasure."

Maddox's face contorted slightly in a silent curse as Carolyn continued. "

You’ve got everyone thinking you’re out for honest fortune and glory, yet you’re only concern is gold. Not the truth-“

Click.

Carolyn looked down. A small pistol prodded her stomach, shattering her confidence and giving him more. Maddox’s fury burned hot in his eyes as if a switch had been flipped. Carolyn took a deep breath, lips shut tight.

Where was Riley? He was so good with randomly saving her, so why wasn’t he jumping out from behind the corner with a frying pan or something now?

She was on her own. It was a distracting thought, but she was in no way a helpless damsel.

“I have been after the truth for decades, Miss Howe,” Maddox practically snarled at her. “Perhaps that’s why they compare me so much to Ben Gates. But the misunderstanding that the gold is part of the discovery of the truth is not what links us. Gold was the justification of the Gates’ family history; it is my answer to a four-hundred-year-old question that will impact the world. It is a more widely-known mystery than the Templars, and it deserves more to its story than a question mark ending.

“Now, please” – he pressed the gun into her a little more – “try not to lie to me. I promised myself I wasn’t going to do this.”

“You make a lot of promises,” Carolyn said, discreetly wrapping her hand around the tall golden post of the lamp. Maddox jabbed at her again impatiently, causing her to wince in pain.

“Where is my compass?”

“The hell if I know.”

In one swift motion, Carolyn brought the heavy lamp down on his head with great force and let it fall into him. Maddox cried out in pain and anger as she made a break for it back up the stairs.

“Ah! Come baaaack!”

She heard him coming, enraged noises echoing off the walls all the way up to the chandelier. A surge of panic made her speed up to the second floor faster. Maddox looked up just in time to see her fly into one of the bedrooms. He stomped up to the landing out of breath, his eyebrow already turning black and blue. With stealth he moved into the room after her, grabbing her from behind the moment he was within reach.

“Let go of me!” she said, putting up a decent struggle. In response, he stabbed her side with the gun again, sending her back to a rigid state of fear.

“You’re making this a lot harder than it has to be,” he said, readjusting his hold on her. “Give me the compass. We can put all this hostility behind us, and no one else will have to know.”

“You mean ‘no one else will get hurt,’” she remarked, ready for him to deny that as well. To her surprise, he didn’t laugh or pull the trigger.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” his voice murmured ominously near her ear. “You’re about to celebrate an important event in your life, and I’d hate to be the one to rain on the parade because you won’t give me something that belongs to me in the first place.”

“I can’t give it to you if I don’t know where it is.”

“You know where it is.”

“I don’t.”

“What don’t you understand-“

Maddox suddenly went quiet, feeling chill steel at his temple. He suddenly relaxed his grip, and Carolyn turned to face him while keeping her gun beside his eye. He still had his weapon to her abdomen, but she once again felt in control over him. They both knew it.

“What don’t you understand about ‘I just moved in?’” she asked. She waited for him to make a move, but he swallowed his pride and lowered his gun slowly. His expression did not reflect the defeat she had hoped and left part of her feeling unsettled.

“Move in,” he said quietly. “I want my compass in three days.”

“Three days, that’s a bit lenient. Shall I mail it to you first class?”

“Tell you what,” he mused. “You get it to me before your wedding, and I won’t have to break down the church door in the middle of your ceremony to get it.”

Carolyn felt her heart skip a beat as her mind registered and pictured his threat being carried out. She was angry, wanting to pull the trigger for what he just said, but her arm remained stiff. She gave him a disgusted look, knowing she had already dug herself a hole too deep to get out of.

“Get out.”

Maddox turned around and left then with a cunning grin.

“You really are Ian’s sister,” he said. “Embrace it.”

Some air was knocked out of Carolyn’s lungs at this.

She felt winded as he left her there, and her weak hand fell back to her side under the gun’s weight. Her mind was so clouded with confusion and wrath that her memory lapsed briefly as to what had just happened, but it didn’t matter. She wanted him out.

Carolyn ran out to the stair’s railing, overlooking the front door as Maddox shut it behind him. Her eyes would’ve burned holes through it after him if they could. Just because he was Maddox Whittacre, the Roanoke know-it-all, didn’t give him any right to come to her, demand something she’d never even heard of, threaten her life and her wedding, and just leave with the expectation that she’d be okay with it. No. No way. For some reason, she thought involving the police was out of the question. This was personal. He was all buddy-buddy with Ian, was he?

Well fine. All the more reason to loathe his existence.

As she heard his car leave the driveway, her heart pounded.

“You know where it is.”

She looked over her shoulder anxiously at the only closed door left on the floor. It had yet to be opened since her return to the Estate, for more reasons than one. Carolyn didn’t know where this compass of Maddox’s was, but she had a very good, very sickening hunch that it would be in that room.

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