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After Claude introduced himself to the Westons, he pulled out a model airplane and gave it to Alfred. The gift delighted the boy, but irritated John. Then Claude turned to Noreen, gazed into her eyes and kissed her hand. John was even more annoyed, but it seemed perfectly innocent to Claude.
John didn’t trust other men around Noreen. Her beauty went far beyond the glistening chestnut hair, deep blue eyes and creamy peach complexion. She radiated charisma that excited men and charmed women.
“Mr. Gautier, we are here on business, nothing more,” John said.
“Nonsense,” Claude replied. “Florida is beautiful this time of year and you must take this opportunity to enjoy it.” Claude looked directly at Noreen, “let me show you around.”
John was a gentle man, but Claude’s unconcealed flirting with his wife was more than he could stand. His face turned red, fists tightened, and he stepped forward. Fortunately, Noreen recognized the anger in John’s eyes. She put her arm around his waist, pulled him close and said, “Thank you Mr. Gautier, but we are very much looking forward to seeing the sights as a family.”
Liz brought out the main course and joined the others at the table for supper. Liz reached out to hold hands with Noreen on her left and Claude on her right.
“Claude, would you like to say grace?” she asked.
“Thank you Liz,” he replied.
“Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this food. Thank you for this beautiful day. Thank you for bringing this wonderful family safely to our community, and all the other blessings in our lives. In Christ name we pray, Amen.”
“Amen,” John, Noreen, and even Alfred said.
“Must be Baptist,” Liz said with a chuckle.
“Tell me Mr. Gautier, when are we going to visit this mysterious archaeological site you claim to have found?” John asked.
“Call me Claude. I plan to take you first thing in the morning, but it is important we spend tonight getting to know each other.”
They discussed weather, conservation, and the beauty of nature as the evening progressed, but Claude avoided mentioning the archaeological site. They sat on the porch enjoying a lazy orange sunset, a comfortable fall breeze, and the solitude of the countryside. Alfred marveled at the number of stars he could see in the night sky away from city lights.
The official purpose of the trip was to determine if the undisclosed archaeological site was genuine and worth the school’s investment of time and money. John was beginning to realize that Claude saw it the other way around. He was trying to decide if John or Yale could be trusted as a partner.
After breakfast the following morning, Noreen helped Liz with the dishes as they planned how to spend their day. Liz was going to take Noreen and Alfred on a tour of the facility.
John and Claude prepared for the trip to the undisclosed site. John was surprised when Claude told him what he wanted him to do while riding in the truck.
“Please put this hood over your head.”
“You must be kidding!” John protested.
“I am very serious; this is not negotiable. If certain people discover this site, it will be plundered and destroyed in a matter of weeks.”
John reluctantly agreed, but said he felt like an idiot riding in the truck with a bag on his head. They traveled for forty-five minutes before stopping. Then Claude removed John’s hood. The truck was parked in a small clearing surrounded by scrub. There was no trace of any road in sight.
A small corral confined a large army horse. Claude saddled the animal and helped John up. Then the horse galloped into the wooded area. After a half hour, the growth became very thick. When they arrived at a second corral, they enclosed the horse and continued on foot.
“The vegetation in this area is different from the scrub back at the biological station. It’s like a tropical rainforest. We couldn’t have traveled more than forty miles. How is that possible?” John asked.
Claude didn’t respond. John noticed a machete in Claude’s right hand which was not being used.
“I’m getting scratched up pretty bad back here Claude,” he complained. “Could you cut away a few more of those brambles?”
“Sorry John, but I don’t want to leave an obvious trail. The machete is for protection from Cottonmouth snakes. This place is full of them.”
John stopped for a moment and looked around. “Thanks, that’s one more reason to love this place.”
“Relax, we are here!” Claude announced.
John recognized more inconsistencies in the local geography. They were standing in front of what appeared to be a fifty-foot wide granite mound.
“This definitely is not Florida Limestone,” John noted.
“You haven’t seen anything yet, look over here.”
Claude pulled back a tarp, camouflaged with a thick coating of leaves and other debris. Underneath was a circular area three feet across in the middle of the stone. It was a golden door engraved with a precise representation of the Orion Constellation.
“My god!” John’s mind was racing, but he was at a loss for words the same way Claude felt the day he discovered the ancient vault.
“Now you understand the need for secrecy. I think this is worth a great deal more than precious metals. If word gets out, this place will be plundered and the site demolished.”
“This may be the greatest archaeological find in history!” John said. “The granite is hundreds of miles from the source. There is enough gold here to rival the pharaoh’s tombs, and these astronomical drawings appear to be pointing to the third planet in orbit around the red star Betelgeuse (Alpha Orionis). If this is authentic, the implications are beyond comprehension.”
Claude was comforted by John’s enthusiasm. “You don’t know how long I have wanted to share this with someone. To see someone else experience the things I’ve been feeling for years, but I didn’t know who to trust. I began studying archaeology and read Dr. Wilson’s work. I believed I could trust him, but was concerned when he sent you in his place.”
“You can trust me,” John said.
“I believe I can,” Claude answered. “I saw the expression on your face. You are more interested in the mystery than the gold. Knowledge is more important than wealth to men like us.”
The two men spent the next three hours studying the site and the inscriptions, barely able to contain their joy while exchanging thoughts and theories. Then they camouflaged the site and returned to Archbold.
“By the smiles on your faces, I assume the day went well,” Liz stated when they returned. Both men tried to disguise their excitement.
“The site may have some potential,” John said with an unimpressed tone.
Liz looked at Noreen with a suspicious smile and uttered a sarcastic, “Mm-hmm.”
“Well, we had a wonderful time,” Noreen chirped. “We spent the whole day exploring the station. I don’t think I have ever truly appreciated nature, but Liz has opened my eyes. There are so many beautiful wildflowers around us I didn’t notice before. Now I understand why this location is special. I want to show you a rare plant called the Scrub Morning Glory. It’s not far from the house, so we can go after breakfast tomorrow.”
“Looking forward to it,” John replied. “Did Alfred have a good time?”
“He fell in love with this place and had a wonderful time. I think he has decided to become a botanist.”
“That sounds like our little boy. Next week he will pick a different career. Oh by the way, where is he?”
“He’s in the attached warehouse helping a nice man named Walter take care of an injured bird. Walter is the, let me see if I can get this right, Avian Ecology, Endangered Species Management Program Director.”
“Are we sure Alfred isn’t bothering anyone?” John asked.
Liz answered. “Everyone loves your little boy! One thing I have learned around here is a conservationist will talk to anyone who will listen, and little Alfred is a mighty good listener.”
/> At breakfast the following morning, Alfred was full of energy. He was reciting statistics for plants and animals on the station. When he started to describe the scrub morning glory, it reminded John of Noreen’s promise.
“Oh, I almost forgot. When do you want to go looking for that plant you mentioned?” John asked.
“I know where it is Mom, let me take him,” Alfred shouted.
Noreen pondered the request for a moment and then answered. “O.K., I think it’s a good idea for father and son to spend a little quality time together.”
“Come on Dad!” Alfred squealed as he led John out the door.
John was amazed at how much information Alfred had learned in one afternoon, the name of plants, bugs, birds and even the buildings. Then out of the corner of his eye, John noticed a man walking fast toward them.
The man wore a bowler hat, dark sunglasses and carried a long cane like a blind man. He bumped right into John.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, excuse me,” he said.
John felt a sharp pain in his ankle, but was more concerned with the man who bumped into him.
“Are you O.K. sir?” he asked, but the man didn’t even slow down. How odd, John thought, the man was wearing a heavy cloak, and it is at least eighty degrees out here.
John began feeling ill as they walked farther.
“What’s wrong Daddy?”
“I’m a little woozy son. Maybe we better head back.”
By the time they arrived at the house, John had a pounding headache and was having difficulty breathing. He said “it must be allergies” and told Noreen he was going to lay down and rest for a while. She let him sleep for a couple hours, but then started to get concerned.
When Noreen went to check on him, he was unresponsive. She saw his right ankle was severely swollen and discolored. She screamed, Liz came running.
“It’s a snake bite! It looks bad. I’ll get Walter, he will know what to do.”
John was already dead. The venom had paralyzed his lungs and he suffocated, or he had a heart attack. Either way, he was beyond resuscitation.
Walter found puncture marks on John’s right ankle. “It looks like a Cottonmouth,” he said. “But I don’t understand how he could be bitten without knowing. A Cottonmouth strike feels like a ninety mile-per-hour fastball. It isn’t something you can ignore.”
He asked Alfred if anything unusual happened on their walk. Alfred described the man who bumped into his father, and then he took Walter to the place where it happened.
When they arrived, Walter found a dead Eastern Coral snake. Its head had been crushed, perhaps by John’s shoe. How convenient, he thought, but it makes sense because a Coral Snake’s bite can be virtually painless and the venom is deadly. Was it possible John didn’t realize he was bitten?
The coroner’s official report specified Eastern Coral Snake bite as the cause of death. Walter said that despite the evidence, “It does not add up. The bite marks were too precise and the venom was too potent. I think we need to find the man who bumped into John. Who was he? What was he doing here?”
Walter whispered to Claude, “John’s death is very suspicious; he may have been murdered.”