CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

"It's all there," said Marcel. "All except what I earned honestly, and I suspect that was what was used to start the Foundation and keep it running. The Spanish crown jewels can be returned to their country, and the rest can be given to a museum or used for Prometheus or the shelter."

"You could rightfully keep it for yourself, Marcel. It was a different time back then," said Nine. "Men were able to keep the spoils of war or trade. Today, anyone would say if it was found on their land, it belongs to them. Rightfully. You could keep this, and no one would judge you different. This belongs to you."

"No. It never belonged to me. I had no clue I was carrying the jewels. Someone placed that on my ship."

"Maybe it was Couvillion," said Nine. "I mean, if you weren't aware, maybe he hoped that you would carry it across or be caught with it."

"I hadn't thought of that," frowned Marcel. "Two hundred years as a ghost, all that time thinking of what happened, and I never once thought him capable of stealing the jewels. You may be right. The other items, though, were mine. I only wanted it to do good for others. I've accomplished that. I have everything in the world I need right now. But. When we announce that these have been found, Couvillion will know, and he will be angry. I don't know the extent of his abilities, should he have any."

"Seems to me if he had any abilities, he'd have used them to find that box," said Miller. "I'd say he's a man, flesh and blood like you. The question we need answered is, does he die and come back to life every eighty or ninety years, or does he just live on."

"I wish I knew the answer to that question. I'm afraid either way, we have to stop this man before he harms someone here."

"We'll stop him, brother. Don't worry about that," said Miller, slapping his back.

"What if we gave him the painting?" All eyes turned to Amy, who was pondering all the possibilities. "I mean, if we have what we need from it, what harm would it do to give him the painting? I love it. I mean, I fell in love with you by seeing that painting every day. But we could have another commissioned."

"That's true, but if he doesn't find the letter or what he believes is there, he'll just keep coming," said Marcel. "It's a good idea. I just don't know how we make it work."

"I know," said Ela, coming toward them. "Sorry to interrupt. I just overheard the conversation."

"You're not interrupting, honey," said Angel. "What's up?"

"Well, I've been playing with this for a while now because people often have strange art requests. But what if I rewrote Arturo's letter and placed the treasure in a different location? Something very far away?"

"Could you do that?" asked Marcel.

"I think I can," she smiled. "His writing is classically beautiful and truly artwork. I could write it exactly as it is, except the location of the treasure could be somewhere else. A remote island in the Caribbean or something."

"That would be convincing," said Marcel. "I sailed there often, as did he. There were many islands that men would stop at to bury treasure or leave cargo for others."

"How about we go one step further," said Gaspar. "It's storm season."

"Yes. I suppose it is," said Marcel, staring at his relative.

"You said Couvillion was a terrible captain, that he lost ships in storms because he wasn't aware. I would bet a man like him hadn't learned many lessons over the years. Why don't we do exactly what Amy and Ela have suggested, find an island that we think will be hit by a storm soon. No airports. No buses. No trains. His only way to get there will be by sea."

"That's a brilliant idea," nodded Marcel. "He wouldn't be able to resist. But the paper? The paper would be too new."

"I can reproduce the paper as well," said Ela. "We actually make linen paper here to mimic paper made a hundred or two hundred years ago. People go crazy for it, buying it in the store. It will take me a day or two, but I'm certain that I can make this work."

"Alright, so what we have to do now is find him, get him to meet us for the painting, and then wait for him on the island," said Antoine.

"It can't be any of you," said Nine. "You all look too much like Marcel. It will need to be one of us to meet him."

"I will do it," said Trak. "I look nothing like any of you, and he would not come at me. He is too cowardly. I will tell him I stole the painting from the Robicheauxs."

"I'd like to see his face when he meets you," smirked Marcel.

"You can. I will have on a body camera."

They spoke further about how to make this work, and then Code walked toward them with a piece of paper.

"What's up?" asked Nine.

"We got an anonymous call from Mercy Hospital in Pensacola. A man was taken into the emergency room shot twice in the back. Someone dropped him off but left. The man is now conscious and called the Gray Wolf line.

"He said that he wanted to warn us about a man named Tim James who is obsessed with a painting that we own. Sound familiar?"

"Very," frowned Marcel. "I can go with a few of you to this man in Florida. Perhaps he can tell us how to locate Tim James."

"Jacques," said Amy, looking at the others. "Jacques is French for James."

"He never was very clever," smirked Marcel.

"Sirs," said Spencer from behind them.

"Hello, young Spencer. How are we today?" asked Marcel. Amy smiled at his jovial way of speaking to the boy. He was going to be a wonderful father.

"I'm good," he giggled. "You're funny, sir. I did some research on the Hermes group. The people who own the non-profits. It's that guy you just mentioned, Tim James. It's not a group. It's just him. He steals all the money from the organizations that he hacks into leaving the virus, then makes them an offer to buy them so the boards won't get put in jail for missing funds, then he merges them into one big non-profit."

"Has he made an offer for Prometheus?" frowned Marcel.

"He did," said Matthew, walking up to the group. "But I made a better offer, and they sold it to me. I knew a few of the board members and gave them an old-fashioned lecture about how they'd been running Prometheus and how they treated Amy. Prometheus is owned by the Robicheaux Philanthropic Group. End of story."

"Matthew, that's too generous. You've put yourself at risk," said Marcel.

"I've put nothing at risk. You will continue what you started, Marcel. Prometheus has done good over the centuries, and we will make sure it continues for centuries more."

"Nice work, Spencer," smiled Nine. He hugged the boy and watched as he ran off. "Alright, Ian, Trak, and Ghost will wait here to meet with Couvillion once we've reached him about the painting. Gaspar and I will go with Marcel to Florida and speak to our victim and hopefully, find a contact for him."