LAST ASSAULT ON OAK ISLAND 11

Chapter 11

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Lauren instinctively escorted the shoebox and notes to the sitting room secretary. She was back at the sink when Rudy opened the kitchen door.

"Well, well," he said. "Saul. Come in."

Saul Clemens stepped into the crowded room, shaking hands with Carlos when they were introduced by Rudy and nodding to Lauren. The kitchen seemed especially small with his large frame crowding the table.

"Now I see why Miles is spending so much time over here." Saul winked at her.

Her attention shifted to Carlos clearing his throat.

Carlos had already resumed his chair, studying Saul over his glasses.

"I don't think he'll be spending too much anymore," Rudy said.

"Indeed not," Carlos added.

Lauren turned around and kept her back to them as she cut up the chicken at the counter. Not Miles but Saul.

"So Miles told me. Well, he'll get over it," Saul said with a short laugh. He sat down across from Carlos. "I hear you're interested in the pit."

Lauren swore softly to herself when he said it, nearly slicing her thumb open. She did not turn around, steeling her posture as she tried to see Saul's reflection in Rudy's decades-old metal toaster near the sink.

"The Money Pit?" Carlos said. "Who isn't? Any treasure hunt going on for a hundred years is—"

"Two hundred years," Saul corrected.

"Two hundred?"

Saul nodded briskly. "You didn't know that?"

"Lauren, I thought you said it was 100 years this summer," Carlos said loudly to her.

"No; I said two, Dad."

Saul was not convinced of Carlos' ignorance. "Listen, Rudy, I know you're friend is here for the pit," he said levelly. "I'm here to cut a deal. Now, you have no equipment, but you must have something to go on. We can work together. Share 50-50, after royalties. I'm an honest man. I can provide men, engineering, pumps, all of it."

"What are we supposed to supply?" Rudy asked without pretense. "We're old men. Too old to look for buried treasure."

"You have a map," Saul said crisply. "We can do it together."

"You mean you've got all that equipment, but no map?" Carlos asked. His moderate surprise verged on mockery. "Isn't that an expensive waste? I think we've got a map of the island from—"

"Not a map of the island," Saul said tightly. His face was dark with suppressed frustration. "I know you've got a map, Maddock. Blackbeard made three that we know of."