Now You See It by Carol J. Perry

Author:Carol J. Perry [Perry, Carol J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2023-08-08T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

I took a closer look at the ship model of the Naiad. It was almost as tall as I am and several feet long. The detail was remarkable. The sails and hatches and ropes and flags and even the miniature painted metal crew members looked real. The framed information card told me about the brig’s weight and builder and the name of the master—Nathaniel Osgood. It also told about how, on her arrival home to Salem from Calcutta one Sunday, she’d been struck by lightning and how the second mate, William Griffen, who was on the main topsail yard, was instantly killed and fell into the sea. I leaned closer to the fence. There he was—ill-fated sailor William, just below the highest sail. He appeared to be smiling.

“Kids are going to love this exhibit,” I whispered to William, and promised myself that we’d give the brig Naiad significant notice in the documentary. With a backward glance, I left the alcove, passed Professor Bidani’s much-more-modern presentation, and returned to the Sullivan area. The lights had been dimmed and Priscilla appeared to be ready to leave for the day. She stood at the entrance, staring down at the box full of wrappings.

“Did you get a chance to look for the shoe?” I asked.

“I didn’t,” she said. “I’m tempted to take the pile of wrappings home with me, but you know, I’m paid by the hour.” Her smile was wry. “I hate to charge the girls anything extra for rooting through trash—especially since I’m quite positive there’s no shoe in it.”

I had a sudden inspiration. “Here’s an idea,” I said. “How about I take it home with me? My aunt Ibby has a couple of girlfriends who’d like nothing better than being part of a treasure hunt. They’ll think that searching for a missing antique shoe is wonderful fun.”

Her relief was evident. “Would you, Lee? That would be such a relief to me.”

“My pleasure,” I said, knowing I was right about my aunt and the Angels enjoying the challenge of the search. I lifted the box and headed for the front door, where the security guard stood, stony-faced. How was I going to explain removing a good-sized box from a museum full of valuable antiques?

I approached Victor Thomas and set the box on the floor. “This is . . .” I began.

He smiled. “I know. I’ve already seen it before—when George first brought it in from the Dumpster. It’s paper and twine and Bubble Wrap and gobs of sticky tape. George told me there might be a shoe in it. I checked it. There isn’t. It won’t take a minute for me to check it again.” He shook his head. “You museum people are an odd lot.” He plunged both hands into the box, scrambling through it like a puppy digging a hole in the dirt. “Okay,” he said. “No shoe. Nothing but trash. Good night, Ms. Barrett.”

I wished Mr. Thomas a good night, picked up my box, and hurried to the parking lot.

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