Page 29 of Captiva Café

"The Spanish coin and the ledger are less complicated. With proper preservation methods, you could certainly incorporate them into an educational display about the building's history."

Phineas tapped his cane lightly on the floor. "The Captiva Historical Society would be very interested in creating high-quality reproductions of the ledger pages. The information inside—what people bought, what things cost, who traded with whom—that's invaluable for understanding daily life during that period."

"We were hoping to incorporate the building's history into the café concept somehow," Gretchen explained. "Not just as a decorative theme, but as something meaningful. Authentic."

Dr. Reyes nodded approvingly. "I think that's an excellent approach. Too often, history becomes a mere backdrop, stripped of its complexity and significance. There's an opportunity here to do something more substantive."

Isabelle moved closer to the table, gazing down at the artifacts. "From the beginning, we've wanted the café to be more than just another tourist spot. We want it to have roots in what Captiva truly is—was—has always been."

"The building itself is part of that story," Dr. Reyes observed. "Just as these artifacts are."

"So what specific steps should we take next?" Isabelle asked, ever practical.

Dr. Reyes reached into her bag and withdrew a small digital camera. "First, I'll document everything thoroughly—measurements, detailed photographs, precise descriptions. Then I'd recommend having the items properly preserved. I can connect you with a conservator who specializes in historical artifacts."

"For the Calusa piece," she continued, "I'll need to file a report with the state Division of Historical Resources. They'll want to know what was found and where. They may request to examine it themselves."

"Will they take it?" Gretchen asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Not necessarily," Dr. Reyes assured her. "Especially if you're committed to proper preservation and educational display. We can work together on a proposal that respects both the historical significance and your vision for the café."

Phineas cleared his throat. "I might be able to help with that. I've worked with the state on similar matters before."

Isabelle gave the elderly historian a grateful nod. His presence had been a calming influence throughout the meeting, his deep knowledge of the island's past providing valuable context.

"What about the immediate construction work?" Gretchen asked, ever mindful of their timeline. "Should we pause everything until this is sorted out?"

Dr. Reyes shook her head. "That's not necessary for the entire site. However, I would recommend a more careful approach in the area where these items were found. There may be more beneath the surface."

"An archaeological assessment?" Isabelle inquired.

"A limited one, yes," Dr. Reyes confirmed. "We could bring in a small team to examine the specific area more thoroughly before you continue with structural work there. It wouldn't delay your entire project, just that section."

Isabelle and Gretchen exchanged a look, a silent communication passing between them.

"We can work with that," Isabelle decided. "Better to do this properly than rush and potentially destroy something important."

"Or face the wrath of Linda St. James if we bulldoze over historical artifacts," Gretchen added with a slight smile.

"Speaking of Ms. St. James," Dr. Reyes said, glancing at her watch, "I gather from the earlier interaction that she's expecting some kind of statement?"

"She's demanding an exclusive interview at eleven," Isabelle confirmed. "Though you're under no obligation."

Dr. Reyes shrugged. "I don't mind speaking with her briefly. It's important for the public to understand the significance of finds like these. But I'll be careful not to overstep or make definitive claims before the full assessment is complete."

"She'll push for specifics," Phineas warned. "Dates, values, sensational angles for her story."

"I've dealt with eager journalists before." Dr. Reyes smiled. "I know how to be informative without being inflammatory."

As Dr. Reyes returned to her meticulous documentation, Isabelle stepped outside for a moment, needing fresh air and a chance to process all she'd learned. The morning sun had risen higher now, warming the wooden deck of the trailer. In the distance, she could see workers continuing with exterior renovations on the far side of the building, their movements purposeful and steady.

She hadn't anticipated this complication when they'd purchased the old structure, hadn't imagined that beneath its worn floorboards lay fragments of island history spanning centuries. Yet somehow, it felt right. The café they'd envisioned had always been about creating connections—between people, between past and present, between the island and those who loved it.

These artifacts were physical embodiments of those connections, tangible links to those who had stood on this same spot before them. The Calusa who had shaped clay into useful vessels adorned with meaningful patterns. The Spanish whosecoins had found their way to this small island through routes now lost to history. The shopkeeper who had meticulously recorded the daily commerce of island life, one transaction at a time.

Gretchen joined her outside, leaning against the railing beside her. "Well, this just got a lot more complicated," she observed, though she didn't sound unhappy about it.

"Indeed," Isabelle agreed. "But also more meaningful, perhaps."

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