The Keepers of the Rose Page 5

  The office building was plain and unattractive. It bore white walls and faded orange trim. Even the morning sun, glinting off the shingles did nothing to enhance its normal, unoriginal presence. Rock had been unimpressed with the man the night before and now, walking up to the building he did business out of, he felt much the same way all over again.

  He had called Michael Cooper an hour earlier, fumbling with his plain white, unattractive business card that said nothing about the man or his work. He agreed to meet him and hear what he had to say though Rock hardly thought anything would come of it.

  “He just walked in,” Rock heard Michael Cooper uttered into the phone as he entered. “I need to go.” He put down the receiver and stood up from behind a small flimsy desk. He greeted Rock with a toothy smile. He wore a black suit and red tie. The outfit somehow clashed with his neat blond hair.

  “Hello Michael.” Rock nodded.

  “Good morning, Rock,” the man returned. “Let’s get right to it. I bet you’re considering why you are here and what I have to do with your ex-wife and the excavation of Oak Island. Please sit.” He gestured to a solid metal folding chair across from his desk.

  Rock sat down. “Actually I was wondering how long I needed to leave a full rack of ribs on the grill. Just give me your best tip and I’ll be on my way.”

  Michael ignored his comment. “My client wishes to gain consistent and current information as to what is happening on Oak Island. I figured you might have the ability to provide said material,” he paused briefly, “for a price of course.”

  “Your client? What exactly do you do and who do you represent,” Rock asked but didn’t wait for response before continuing. “Your building has no official title for your office, you’re too vague to find on-line, and on the door and your card, it simply says your name and then a drawing of a single rose.”

  “That’s all you really need to know, this isn’t about me.” Michael Cooper said leaning back in his mesh style office chair. Rock took the opportunity to study his surroundings. Many times you could learn more about a person from their possessions than from their words. But the room was plain. A picture of a plate of fruit adorned one wall, a file cabinet sat in the corner next to a small fridge and a desk lamp, unplugged sat to his right. Other than that it was just the two of them, not even a window.

  Rock responded without making eye contact. “You’re asking me to spy on my ex-wife, for money. But you do realize I already have enough money for my lifestyle. I don’t need yours. The only reason I’m here is because you involved Anna. Answer this if you can, is she in any danger?”

  “The people she is working for aren’t known for being, compassionate.”

  Rock groaned. Michael Cooper was the type to dodge any relevant question with vague answers. “Answer the question in one word,” he urged.

  “Then, yes.”

  “Why?”

  “If she succeeds in her task, the Delega Group, her employer, will dispose of her to be sure she doesn’t talk.”

  “Talk about what? That makes no sense. They wouldn’t bring her on just to get rid of her when she succeeds.”

  “You don’t know their nature.”

  “You do?”

  “Intimately, I used to work for them.”

  Rock couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. Normally he’d ask another follow up question to test the answer but he knew if this was a lie, the man before him had already worked out a proper response. “So what exactly can I do to protect her?” He decided to play along and see where this went.

  “My client needs you to make sure she fails. If she doesn’t bring anything up, there’s no reason for the man who runs things over there, Seth Delega to get rid of her. Simple.”

  “What does your client get from all of this?”

  “Some things were never meant to be found.”

  “Everything is meant to be found or it would have been destroyed.”

  Michael stayed silent to consider his point but looked a little disheartened. “We will pay you a lump sum of cash afterwards, of course.”

  “Again with the money. What if I can’t convince them to give the task up? She’s going to have some people around her with strong convictions.”

  “I know,” he admitted, “they may have some poor readings or equipment malfunctions. It happens all the time, it’s happened on Oak Island before. You are familiar with the history?”

  “Did we just go from spying to sabotage because that’s an entirely different animal?”

  “It’s for their own good. You have to trust me on that Rock. If my client is correct, you don’t want Delega to retrieve the contents on that island.” The man’s pace was growing more urgent.

  “Do your clients know for sure what’s buried under Oak Island?”

  “No, they don’t.” Michael paused, “ for sure,” he added.

  “Then I think we’re done here.” Rock didn’t wait for an answer. He immediately left the room and shut the door behind him. He stepped out from the shadow of the plain building and immediately dialed Sayla. She was supposed to be here by now, waiting for him.

  “Hi Rock,” she answered after the first ring. “Did it go how you thought it would,” her high-pitched voice gave away the two coffees she already put down in the last hour.

  “Almost. It was even a little more vague than I thought. Did you get the car?”

  “Yeah,” she answered.

  “Ok, so where are you?”

  “I’m in the parking lot, I can see you,” she said. Rock looked around but couldn’t locate her.

  “Ok. I don’t expect him to stay much longer. I don’t think he even uses that office much at all, if it’s even his. So be ready. And when you follow him, try and not be too obvious, but don’t lose him. I’d like to know who this guy is and who he deals with.”

  “This is romantic you know,” she said.

  “What is?”

  “Being worried about Anna, so you’re playing detective.”

  “I’m just concerned for her job that’s all. Since they couldn’t get me, I don’t think they’re done looking for someone to do their dirty work.”

  “You should have just said you’d do it and then don’t.”

  “I thought about that, but no matter how much control you think have in a situation like this, you probably have much less. I don’t want to be anybody’s pawn, they were probably recording me anyhow.”

  “Never take the ham sandwich without the bread,” she replied.

  “Did I ever tell you you’re my favorite apprentice?”

  “All the time.”

  “All right, I’ll talk to you later. Good luck.”

  Rock made it back to his office and spent the next few hours sitting silently at his desk, thinking. The afternoon snuck up on him slowly and he thumbed through his notes on Oak Island trying to gain some grasp on what exactly could be buried there. He began pacing the room when he became frustrated with his lack of progress and the fact that Sayla had yet to come back. He expected to hear something hours ago. He tried her twice by phone and both instances the call went straight to voice mail.

  He stepped outside and peered across the open lot stretching his arms high over his head and staring at the small amount of water he could see. The sight calmed him as usual. The sky hanging above was beginning to change in color and the sun would dip below the horizon in less than an hour.

  He pulled out his phone to try again when a pair of dim headlights finally pulled into the empty complex. He was relieved to see the old tan Buick slowly clunk its way towards him. But then another car pulled in just after it, a black truck with tinted windows.

  Rock tensed for just a moment as the cars rolled towards him. Then he ran inside and pulled open his file drawer. He quickly dug to the bottom and grabbed his gun. He’d never fired his Kimber 1911 outside the range and he’d had it almost a decade. He stuffed
it in his pants and ran back outside, pausing at the door as the tan Buick came to a sliding stop. The back door swung open and Sayla was kicked out. Her body slumped to the ground and crumpled into a small heap. She started crawling towards the curb.

  He took a step forward to help her when a man came barreling out of the Buick and Rock hesitated, gauging the new threat. The man stood about the same height as Rock with long black hair and brown eyes. His skin was dark, not black but well tanned. Rock didn’t have to study his frame to know this man was meant to intimidate.

  “I think this belongs to you,” the man said in a heavy accent.

  “What’d you do to her?” Rock started forward again and knelt next to Sayla keeping his focus upwards. He touched her on the back and she looked at him. Her left eye was swollen shut and mascara ran down her cheeks to leave two dark trails that made her look gothic.

  “You should think next time before sending someone else to do your snooping,” the man said.

  “You had no right to do this,” Rock replied calmly. On the outside he kept a steady face while anger raged within. He wanted to kill this man and he had the means to do it. He lifted Sayla to her feet walked her towards the office. He sat her down in a white plastic chair just outside the door and walked back to the curb.

  The Buick shut off its engine and a second man appeared from the driver’s side. He was smaller in frame, with dark glasses and wavy brown hair. He walked around the car and stopped only a few paces away. Rock wiggled his fingers by his side trying to predict how this would turn out and what his best move might be.

  “I suggest you drop this whole issue,” the new man said. “Go back to your little digs and forget having ever met Michael Cooper. We thought you’d want to help Anna, but your divorce must have been pretty distasteful. Your inactions could force us to take,” he paused before continuing, “other measures.” He ended with a smile.

  “Other measures, meaning harmful ones,” Rock glanced from side to side trying to keep both of them in his field of view. “What makes you think I won’t warn her?”

  “Because then I’ll kill you,” the smaller man drew a gun and before Rock could react. He walked forward and came close enough to push it into his chest. Rock felt his heart rate jump. He wanted to reach for his own gun but sense told him to remain still. “And then I’ll kill the whore over there and then I’ll move on to anybody else you know. Perhaps the owner of this shitty car.”

  “Enough!” Michael Cooper appeared in front of the truck. “Put your weapon down.” When the man looked away, Rock swiftly pushed the arm to the side and struck the man in the face. The little body sprawled to the concrete and the gun slid along the ground. Rock shook out his hand, it stung where he’d made contact with the jaw.

  “Calm down Rock,” Michael Cooper took a few steps closer. “My apologies, I didn’t want it to come to that,” he said. “But please don’t try to follow me again, that is unwise.”

  “You had no right to hurt her.” Rock replied. “Obviously we don’t know what exactly we are involved with and are in way over our heads.”

  “You are,” Michael returned. “And now, how can I trust you to stay out of it?”

  “You can’t, not as long as Anna is in danger from you.”

  “From us? We’re not the ones you should be scared of.”

  “I see that,” he said sarcastically and looked back at Sayla.

  “That’s a simple lesson, one I hope you both have learned.”

  “We’ve learned it,” Rock replied.

  “I’ve already asked and you declined my offer. We won’t be bothering you any more. But Rock, if you should find yourself in Nova Scotia and are part of the success in retrieving what was buried, be sure to know what it is you are handing over before you give it to Delega. Be sure you know what it is,” he repeated for effect. “And also know we won’t be far behind. Let’s go.” Michael nodded to his men. The smaller one picked himself up off the ground and glared at him. There was a bright red circle on his left cheek. Rock relaxed as the car pulled away.

  “You ok?” He turned to Sayla once the truck was lost to sight.

  “I’ll be fine, I’ve had worse falls from my cycle,” she told him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. He felt terrible. He had asked her to do this and she took the brunt of the consequences. “Let’s get some ice on that.” He walked into the office and pulled out a cold can of soda, it was all he had. Sayla came in after him and sat down. “Put this on it for now,” he handed it over.

  “This is intense,” she said and smiled at him.

  He shook his head at the differences in their perceptions. He wanted nothing more to do with this and he wanted Anna out. Sayla wanted to keep pushing for some irrational young reason he couldn’t understand anymore. “Intense isn’t what I would call it.”

  “Anna’s into something big.”

  “Anna’s in the middle of two rich idiots wanting some treasure and fame. That’s all. She needs to pull out of this. It’s not worth it.” Rock had seen this before, only not to the extent of pulling firearms. These types of struggles always went sour. Nobody would win, he knew, including Anna.

  “You can’t just let this go,” she pleaded with him.

  “I’m not going to let this go. I am going to go to Nova Scotia and talk to Anna.”

  “That’s so cool. You’re going to dig it up. Can I come?”

  “I’m not going to dig anything up and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come along. You need to get that eye looked at and I don’t want you around this shit anymore. This isn’t the kind of stuff I brought you on for. This is the type of stuff you have to avoid. It’ll ruin your career and leave you broke, that is if it doesn’t kill you.”

  Sayla stuck out her lower lip. “So what am I supposed to do here?”

  “Heal.” Rock slumped down at his desk. He had enough of arguing for now and Sayla saw it. She stopped pestering him. He took a deep breath and started recalling the whole incident. It all felt so cliché. There was the muscle man, the guy with the gun, Michael stepping in at the perfect moment to right the situation. He told him they wouldn’t be bothered anymore, but yet he was threatened by one of them and Sayla was given a swollen eye. Nothing felt real about it. The whole situation felt staged.

  “Did they say anything in the car,” he said breaking the momentary silence.

  “Not much. They talked about sports mostly.”

  “Which one hit you?”

  “You didn’t see him. He didn’t come along.”

  “Did the smaller guy talk about his wife?”

  “Wife, no,” Sayla smirked. “Someone married him?”

  “No, no woman would marry that guy,” he said back to her. “Thugs for hire aren’t usually the undying and forever love type. But then he did have a ring on his left hand.” Rock pulled his gun out and set it back in the drawer. “It was the same as Michael’s. A solid gold band, with a single engraved rose.”

 

  Chapter 4

  Nova Scotia, April 2012