Page 27 of Masked Intentions in Pelican Point
Nolan smiles, the expression mixing relief with something deeper—a recognition of shared destiny. "Now we learn how to be guardians together. The mask will need proper care, proper respect. And there are other artifacts, other responsibilities."
"Together?"
"If you'll have me. Guardian partnerships are... traditional."
I look down at the mask in my hands, then at the unconscious form of Victor Dreschner, then at the man who just helped me bridge two worlds. The weight of new responsibility settles on my shoulders, but it doesn't feel heavy. It feels like coming home.
"Together," I agree, and seal our partnership with a kiss that tastes of salt air and ancient promises.
NOLAN
Saltmoor never lets you forget where you are. The place breathes history. Tonight that breath tastes like salt and iron.
Allison shakes her head. “Was he always crazy?”
“Not certifiable like tonight, but he’s been on my radar for years. He was once a dealer with connections to every black market collector on the eastern seaboard. Dreschner wasn't just a dealer—he was a respected academic who genuinely believed in the spiritual power of indigenous artifacts.”
I shake my head before continuing, “When Ryan exposed his illegal trafficking, Dreschner lost more than his license. He lost his identity as a scholar and his access to the objects he'd devoted his life to studying. The exposure revealed he'd been funding his research through black market sales, convincing himself he was preserving artifacts that would otherwise be lost. Ryan's intervention destroyed not just his career but his entire worldview. That's when Dreschner's academic interest in Calusa spirituality twisted into obsession—if he couldn't study these artifacts legally, he'd prove his worth by mastering their power.”
Allison mutters, “A vendetta.”
“Exactly. He doesn’t care about history. He cares about revenge… and money.”
“Is the mask that valuable?”
“Both because of the rarity of Calusa artifacts, but made more so by the use of gold. It wasn’t something they used, so finding it in the wreck of a Spanish treasure ship, where it was listed on the manifest, makes it priceless.”
“Define priceless.”
“Hard to say, but I could see it going for fifty million or more.”
“Bloody hell.”
I chuckle, though the sound is tight. “The thing is that Ryan wants to put it in a traveling exhibition, sort of like they did with King Tut.”
“Bloody hell.”
“Excuse me? What could you possibly have against King Tut?”
“It’s not Tut’s body I object to. It’s Dreschner’s.
“Dreschner is finished…”
“Well, someone should have told him.”
“Why?” I ask,
Allison raises her arm and points to the place Dreschner had lain only a few moments before. “Because his body and whatever is left of his mind is gone.”
I spin around and look where she’s pointing. Dreschner has vanished. We move, the house drawing its shadows close around us as though it means to keep its secrets.
CHAPTER 11
NOLAN
Dreschner once prowled these same halls and convinced himself they belonged to him, his private hunting ground for schemes and backroom bargains. He was mistaken then, and he is mistaken now. Saltmoor has never been his, and tonight it feels as if the house itself wants him driven out.
Our shoes strike in rhythm as we push through the narrow corridors. The tension between us is taut, threaded with adrenaline. She glances at me, her lips twitching. “If you get yourself hurt, Porter, I’m not carrying you.”
