at him. “Fat tourists?”
“No, fast .” He made a walking motion with his fingers. “Like we move quicker than everybody else?”
Alexis let out an understanding oh . “Okay. I was about to say.”
Bailey didn’t give the museum’s donation box a second glance as he moved into the first exhibit, which focused on the somewhat sordid nautical history of Mooresville. A sign mentioned that the town began as a sort of rest stop for souls tired of the sea and then went on to become a hiding place for a few well-known pirates.
Bailey gazed at the statue of one of these pirates, the sadistic Graybeard. The description below the pirate read, among other things, that he’d made a deal with the devil that granted him special powers. Considering he got his head lopped off in battle and was never heard from again, Bailey figured that probably wasn’t true. The description went on to state that Graybeard raped nearly half the women in Mooresville at the time. Even though half at that time meant six or seven, historians estimated roughly five percent of the town’s population was still related to him.
“I actually didn’t know that.” Bailey gestured toward the sign.
“I did. Graybeard was so bad all the other pirates hated him,” Alexis said. “It’s why I prefer Anne Bonney. Or Blackbeard. Pirates aren’t supposed to be nice, but this guy? I’d rather get sick again than deal with him.”
Damn.
“Message received,” Bailey said.
They moved past the exhibit and into a different area about all the ships that sank off the coast of North Carolina over time. It got so bad that people called the stretch of ocean the Graveyard of the Atlantic. The main exhibit had some broken pieces of wood, an old treasure chest full of plastic coins, and some netting.
“They really broke the bank with these exhibits.” Bailey knocked on the wooden railing separating them from the exhibit. It made a hollow sound, like it wasn’t made of wood. “I think you can buy the treasure at the dollar store.”
“I knew there was a reason I hadn’t been here since third grade,” Alexis said.
On the far wall hung a board with names of the nearly two hundred Mooresville residents lost at sea carved into it. Bailey and Alexis didn’t bother to read the names. With no sign of their mark, the pair hustled to the next part of the museum.
Rounding the corner into the sea life exhibit, the pair almost bumped into the man’s back. He stood at the first part of the exhibit, which featured all sorts of sea shells. Bailey stopped, his shoes squeaking on the floor. Alexis squealed and quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. Bailey pulled her behind the corner before the man turned around.
“Sorry,” Alexis said. “I didn’t think he would literally be right there . I feel like such a girl, making that sound.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” Bailey peeked around the corner. The man hadn’t moved.
“There you are. Right where Mr. Lovell said you’d be.”
Bailey and Alexis exchanged glances. Oh shit!
The man took out his cell phone and dialed. “It’s Percy. I’m at the museum. Yep, looking right at it.” Percy waited a moment before speaking again. “So sweet, hiding the Conch Shell of Doom in a museum exhibit full of shells. Right under everyone’s noses.”
Hearing about the Conch Shell of Doom, Bailey almost remembered something about last night. The memory was like an itch his brain couldn’t scratch. He even scratched his head, hoping that would help. It didn’t.
Percy ended the call and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. “The eye’s doing better, not that you care.”
Alexis nudged Bailey. “You mentioned that last night.”
“That his eye is feeling better?”
“No, you goof. The conch shell part. Do you remember?”
“Kind of, sort of, but not really.”
Bailey took another look around the corner. Percy was gone, off to the next part of the museum. Bailey didn’t want to risk
“No, fast .” He made a walking motion with his fingers. “Like we move quicker than everybody else?”
Alexis let out an understanding oh . “Okay. I was about to say.”
Bailey didn’t give the museum’s donation box a second glance as he moved into the first exhibit, which focused on the somewhat sordid nautical history of Mooresville. A sign mentioned that the town began as a sort of rest stop for souls tired of the sea and then went on to become a hiding place for a few well-known pirates.
Bailey gazed at the statue of one of these pirates, the sadistic Graybeard. The description below the pirate read, among other things, that he’d made a deal with the devil that granted him special powers. Considering he got his head lopped off in battle and was never heard from again, Bailey figured that probably wasn’t true. The description went on to state that Graybeard raped nearly half the women in Mooresville at the time. Even though half at that time meant six or seven, historians estimated roughly five percent of the town’s population was still related to him.
“I actually didn’t know that.” Bailey gestured toward the sign.
“I did. Graybeard was so bad all the other pirates hated him,” Alexis said. “It’s why I prefer Anne Bonney. Or Blackbeard. Pirates aren’t supposed to be nice, but this guy? I’d rather get sick again than deal with him.”
Damn.
“Message received,” Bailey said.
They moved past the exhibit and into a different area about all the ships that sank off the coast of North Carolina over time. It got so bad that people called the stretch of ocean the Graveyard of the Atlantic. The main exhibit had some broken pieces of wood, an old treasure chest full of plastic coins, and some netting.
“They really broke the bank with these exhibits.” Bailey knocked on the wooden railing separating them from the exhibit. It made a hollow sound, like it wasn’t made of wood. “I think you can buy the treasure at the dollar store.”
“I knew there was a reason I hadn’t been here since third grade,” Alexis said.
On the far wall hung a board with names of the nearly two hundred Mooresville residents lost at sea carved into it. Bailey and Alexis didn’t bother to read the names. With no sign of their mark, the pair hustled to the next part of the museum.
Rounding the corner into the sea life exhibit, the pair almost bumped into the man’s back. He stood at the first part of the exhibit, which featured all sorts of sea shells. Bailey stopped, his shoes squeaking on the floor. Alexis squealed and quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. Bailey pulled her behind the corner before the man turned around.
“Sorry,” Alexis said. “I didn’t think he would literally be right there . I feel like such a girl, making that sound.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” Bailey peeked around the corner. The man hadn’t moved.
“There you are. Right where Mr. Lovell said you’d be.”
Bailey and Alexis exchanged glances. Oh shit!
The man took out his cell phone and dialed. “It’s Percy. I’m at the museum. Yep, looking right at it.” Percy waited a moment before speaking again. “So sweet, hiding the Conch Shell of Doom in a museum exhibit full of shells. Right under everyone’s noses.”
Hearing about the Conch Shell of Doom, Bailey almost remembered something about last night. The memory was like an itch his brain couldn’t scratch. He even scratched his head, hoping that would help. It didn’t.
Percy ended the call and stuffed the phone back into his pocket. “The eye’s doing better, not that you care.”
Alexis nudged Bailey. “You mentioned that last night.”
“That his eye is feeling better?”
“No, you goof. The conch shell part. Do you remember?”
“Kind of, sort of, but not really.”
Bailey took another look around the corner. Percy was gone, off to the next part of the museum. Bailey didn’t want to risk
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