"I think your idea about you having a sex change was way beyond…Tyler", Vanduran said to Rollie, his eyes focused sharply on Stu, "just for the record, Westburn….it was Rollie who suspected that…"
 
 

Stu Westburn smiled, shaking his head; "My, you’ve got a vivid imagination, Rollie…"
 
 

"Dunno about that, it’s happened before in my past experiences…but I would have never thought you’d be uh, a Fed!" Rollie said, with amazement.
 
 

Stu Westburn wore the look, dark suit and tie, his badge flipped over his suit breast pocket.
 
 

"Department of the Treasury? We have tax dodgers around here?" Vanduran questioned, half-joking.
 
 

"Special branch, actually- something to do with recovery of stolen gold from a shipment going out of Richmond," Stu replied, his eyes falling to the computer screen, seeing that a birth certificate was visible from image scan.
 
 

"Okay…you’ve been undercover, obviously and well, deceiving us in a double cover, maybe triple if you count the civil war technical advisor position…." Rollie surmised, leaning back against the computer table, blocking the screen with his back as Vanduran stroked his chin.
 
 

"Gold? I haven’t heard anything about this being stolen in my reports from any Federal agencies," Vanduran countered, suspicious.
 
 

"Oh, it was a bit before your time, Captain…" Stu replied, seeing Angie’s rolling chair and taking a seat.
 
 

"You mean, before I was Captain at the precinct?" Marvin asked, frowning and conceding that some Treasury cases had indeed been out there for a long time.
 
 

"Like one hundred and thirty-seven years before today…" Stu answered, as Rollie whistled and scratched his head. He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head.
 
 

"Stu, or should I say, Agent Westburn? What the bloody hell is going on here, mate?"
 
 

"Actually, at the moment, not a lot. My investigation has run into a bit of a quagmire, you see…" Stu answered, his voice rising and thin.
 
 

"Okay…best begin at the beginning, say what?" Rollie told him, waiting for explanation.
 
 

"Yeah, good place to start," Vanduran echoed.
 
 

"Well, officially, the gold recovery is not my primary investigation. I, uh- am assigned to investigate Sanderlin and Logitech with laundering of money through the Jasper chip industry. Some illegal gaming money through Quantum was dispersed down to Logitech and the film industry….boring really…." Stu began, shrugging off what Rollie and Vanduran had just discovered so excitedly.
 
 

Vanduran colored, feeling the blood fill his face. He hated it when Feds showed him up. Rollie, on the other hand, was impressed with the one hundred thirty-seven year old case that obviously had Stu’s blood boiling.
 
 

"All this information that I got today from the precinct, from my source…that was really supplied by you?" Vanduran said, in a matter-of-fact voice, realizing that Stu had probably had an agent on duty at his precinct.
 
 

Rollie swallowed, knowing how Vanduran was trying to save some sort of face.
 
 

"Some of it, yes…the Logitech memo was supplied…the contract…but this, this stuff here, no…" Stu said, bending over and peering at the computer screen.
 
 

"The Captain ran some searches on a few of your ghost partners in crime…" Rollie began, but Stu was nodding and smiled.
 
 

"Judd…no clue kind of guy, you know…in it for the money…" Stu commented, waving it off as of no importance.
 
 

"He may have no clue, Westburn, but his mother is wanted with criminal charges pending for drugging Rollie and Angie Tyler and by the way, you!" Vanduran said sternly, frowning as Stu mirrored his expression. Vanduran pointed to the mother’s name on the birth certificate.
 
 

"Well, isn’t that interesting!" Stu replied and he pulled out a notepad from his pocket and studied it for a moment, flipping a few pages of notes before looking up at them.
 
 

"You guys should join my little posse…" he murmured, smiling as he circled something on his notepad with his pen.
 
 

"Wanna let us in on this whole master plan?" Rollie asked, raising his hands up in the air, his symbolic gesture of a bubble growing making Vanduran grin.
 
 

"Okay…some pieces of the puzzle are starting to fit, let me start from the beginning…" Stu said, excitedly, ready to talk.

Angie pulled the car up into a small courtyard in front of the centuries old Oak Grove Church. The church was locked and her disappointment was lifted when she spied an elderly woman tending a garden near a small white-framed house several hundred yards away. The housekeeper to Rector John Frame told her that he had business in town that morning but she expected him back any moment. With that information keeping her inspiration at a high level, she walked with Aidan in the small cemetery beside the church.
 
 

Angie began reading the headstones, the raised altars; the lives and deaths of early inhabitants of the area surrounding the church beginning to comfort her somehow. Aidan had wandered off, playing with several small stones, throwing them toward the gate of the cemetery. A fresh grave mound, covered with funeral flowers was to the north of the cemetery, no headstone as of yet but a metal placard at the top, the name making her cringe slightly.
 
 

"Aidan, come on, let’s go now, back to the church, okay?" Angie told him, but not really looking at him. She clutched her arms against her chest as the name of Hunter Eventyn, IV impacted her spirit at that moment. She could see the family plot so distinctly laid out from the most recent inductee and onward to her left as she backed up, choking slightly on tears that she did not understand why she shed. She stopped then, the weathered stone of the original in front of her, a cracked stone striking through the name of Eventyn, the words carved below the name nearly unreadable… ‘his valiant heart broke in spirit and in body, did leave this earth most willing to join his most cherished wife in heavenly bond, unable to continue the flesh and the sorrow of empty presence of bond on Eventyn ground…’
 
 

There were more words before that section, but she could not read them. The year of his death, 1868 was prominent still and Angie realized that he had mourned Siobhan’s loss for three years after the end of the war and his death. His son had been a little older than Aidan when he had died.
 
 

"Oh God, what’s this all about?" Angie groaned, wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked up for Aidan. He was standing at the gate and she realized he was talking or rather shouting at someone. She didn’t see anyone in front of him and she began to grow concerned as she hurried over toward him, realizing he was shouting, throwing small rocks and pebbles he had in his pocket out beyond the gate.
 
 

"Aidan? What’s wrong?" Angie yelled, grabbing him by the shoulders and kneeling, turning him to face her. Hazel eyes, his father’s eyes, faced her own. He was upset, but not crying.
 
 

"He can’t come in here!"
 
 

"What? Who, what are you saying?" Angie asked, worriedly.
 
 

"He wants in! She told me to keep him out!" Aidan replied, almost breathlessly as he turned his head and reached into his pocket and threw another rock.
 
 

"Aidan! Stop that!" Angie told him, grabbing his hand, which had gone back into his pocket.
 
 

"She says you can stop him too, stop him Mommy!" Aidan told her, his words pressured and fearful.
 
 

Angie picked him up in her arms, alarmed, bewildered and turning around behind her, the hair on the back of her neck rising. There was no one there or was there?
 
 

"Come on, we’re going!" Angie said, shaken. As she walked through the gate, to Aidan’s sudden scream of fear, Rector John Frame met them face to face.
 
 

"Oh my! Did I scare you?" he asked, putting his hand to his chest as he looked at the startled young woman with her clearly upset little boy.
 
 

Angie relaxed, sighing as Aidan suddenly calmed down, his one hand clutching Angie’s shoulder and the other, her neck. He whispered into her ear then, his voice breathless; almost exhilarated; "he’s gone!"
 
 

"Oh, Rector Frame!" Angie replied, moistening her lips as she smiled then, having spied his collar and blushed; "sorry, I think he needs a nap…"
 
 

"Ah, wasn’t our spooky cemetery then?" he asked, winking slightly at Aidan, who stared at him and frowned.
 
 

"Um," Angie uttered and then juggled Aidan to her other hip, "I, uh, was wondering if I could talk to you, about…the Eventyns, Rector…"
 
 

Rector Frame’s eyes shifted from hers to the cemetery for a second, then he smiled slightly and motioned for her to follow him inside the church; "Come, this way…let’s let your son take a rest on one of these old pews while we talk, shall we?"
 
 

Angie smiled again and followed him inside the double oak doors, most likely the original doors framed in black iron crossed with fleur-de-lis on each side. They creaked from age and as she entered, the essence of the age of the church was felt; a slight musty scent of old, seasoned wood tinged with the smell of scented beeswax candle drippings through the ages of those that worshiped in its holy framework.
 
 

"This is wonderful!" she commented, looking around at the small but impressive sanctuary.
 
 

"Here, let the boy down here, sit for a moment. I have to drop off my satchel," the Rector told her as she did what she was told. Aidan yawned slightly, looking up and around as he stood up on the pew beside Angie.
 
 

"Okay, I want you to lay down here and take a little nap Aidan…alright?"
 
 

"Mommy?"
 
 

"Yes…"
 
 

"That man, he was mean…"
 
 

"He can’t hurt you, Aidan…" Angie said, forcefully, for she knew who he was talking about suddenly and she knew who the woman was that had spoken to Aidan as well. She hated that her son was being used and exposed to this. She wanted to stop all of this craziness, stop this quest of Siobhan’s. What had she been thinking? The lump in her throat grew painful as she nervously reached in her purse for the cell phone. She was going to call Rollie and tell him where she was. He would be here soon enough when the film crew began to set up.
 
 

"Now, what can I help you with about the Eventyns?" Rector Frame asked, as he walked down the aisle toward her.
 
 

"I would like to see the records, the ones that Hunter Eventyn kept here in your vault," Angie said, in earnest as she looked up at him, hopefully.
 
 

Rector Frame looked exasperated. He sighed and rested a hand on the pew’s back edge in front of Angie.
 
 

"Mrs..?"
 
 

"Tyler…Angie and this is Aidan…" Angie answered, smiling.
 
 

"Mrs. Tyler…I can’t show you the Eventyn records. They are private and for family only. I’m sorry you’ve come all this way…but really, only family can see those records. Come to think of it, you are the second woman that has requested to see those records since poor Mr. Eventyn passed just a few days ago."
 
 

"Second? But Rector Frame, I know this sounds inane, but I am working for Mr. Eventyn, in a sense. He entrusted me with helping Siobhan..uh, well…" Angie realized that she had rambled off and then said the worst thing she could have said- Siobhan’s name.
 
 

The rector’s eyebrows raised, bushy and arched as his eyes suddenly seemed to glow and he smiled suddenly, laughing softly.
 
 

"He infected you, didn’t he?"
 
 

"If you mean, told me about her, yes…and well, I was there when he died, he told me to help her…" Angie replied, realizing that she still sounded ridiculous.
 
 

"Ah…I was told something about film people being there when he died…you an actress then?"
 
 

"Good God, no!" Angie said, and put her hand to her mouth, blushing as she realized what she had just uttered.
 
 

He seemed unaware, bemused a bit as he sat down facing her from the pew ahead of her.
 
 

"I’m in special effects…my husband and I, we are working on this film, yes…we befriended Mr. Eventyn and were guests at his house. I guess you can say, I had some interesting experiences there…"
 
 

"So…, you have seen her then, a lucky one…" the rector added as Angie tried to decide if he was making fun of her or genuinely interested.
 
 

"I, uh- oh well, if you must know- YES…" she said, almost in a huff but reserved herself as she looked up at him, imploring for understanding. His demeanor invited her to let go and so, as if she was at confession, she let him have the whole version of what had happened to her since she and Rollie had gotten tied up in Eventyn’s life and history.
 
 

"That’s quite amazing!" he later said, as Angie nodded and looked down to see Aidan asleep, his head resting in her lap. She realized that half of an hour had passed.
 
 

"So you see, I just want to see if there is anything in those records that can help me, or her, actually…you do believe me and well, Siobhan…?" Angie asked, hopefully.
 
 

"You, of course, I do, Mrs. Tyler…and as to Siobhan, I believe she only wants to rest finally. God wants her to come home as well…"
 
 

"Oh…" Angie replied, dumbfounded that he took it all so calmly.
 
 

He stood up, telling her to wait and returned a few minutes later, carrying a metal box. He held a key in his hand and smiled.
 
 

"Here, inside are all the records that Hunter Eventyn entrusted to me. I want you to read this here, quickly for I believe, your movie people will be here on the hour."
 
 

Angie took the box and the key and looked at her watch. She barely had twenty minutes to look at four generations of records and letters…and she grimaced as she thought she heard a whispered; ‘hurry’ in her ear from some dimensional rift beside her.
 
 

Her fingers trembled as she turned the key in the lock of the box. The rector stepped back and closed his eyes for a moment. A prayer for two women had just been sent, but only one was living.

Lucinda rolled over in the large plantation rice bed, looking up at the thin, gossamer-like canopy drapes, letting the camera soak in her expression as she waited just a second before feeling John Grant’s lips on hers. His hands then moved down her arms, over her breasts and she closed her eyes again…
 
 

"And CUT!" said Gary Sanderlin in a softened voice, the crew at a minimal beginning to scurry about the set. John grinned above her and rolled off of her as a wardrobe girl handed Lucinda a robe immediately.
 
 

"That’s it, everyone…let’s wrap it up and move to location 2. Let’s get a move on here. We want to make this deadline. Out, out, out!" he continued, signaling with his arm raised above his head and swinging it around.
 
 

"Great! Lucinda, just great!" he added, touching her bare knee exposed from the robe as she sat on the side of the bed, her mind racing elsewhere.
 
 

"Oh, thanks Gary…" she replied, hardly noting his praise.
 
 

"Well, let’s go get hitched, girly…" John told her, in his own robe as he walked in front of her, clamoring for a cup of coffee from the catering table.
 
 

"Oh yeah…slam bam, thank you ma’am, right…" Lucinda commented as she moaned and looked around the set. Marvin hadn’t shown up yet. In a way, she was glad. She hated doing a love scene with him there and today, of all days!
 
 

She looked around for that weasel, finally spying him at the corner of the room and walked over to him, signaling him for a cigarette.
 
 

"Miss Scott, I didn’t know you smoked?" Rob Nesbitt commented, handing her his just lit cigarette.
 
 

"After I make love, always!" she replied, in Greta Garbonesque style. Then she coughed slightly, handing it back and took him by both shoulders; "you do have it all arranged, right?"
 
 

"Of course!" he replied, coughing slightly himself, his face reddening.
 
 

"Well, where is Captain Vanduran?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.
 
 

"Uh, he’s in Tyler’s van. I’ve talked to Molly Hicks about getting him set in wardrobe. Are you sure he will cooperate? I mean, you've already tried this once before…" Rob added, his beady eyes squinting slightly.
 
 

"You’ll make sure of it, Rob," Lucinda told him, her nose an inch from his, her eyes boring into his.
 
 

"Yeah…I’ll, yep- I’ll go see about that, right now!" and he swallowed hard, dropping his cigarette to the ground, stamping it out.
 
 

"GO!" she told him, her arm rising like Cleopatra ordering her army to invade.
 
 

She smiled as she watched him scamper off. Wardrobe was hailing her for changing and she grabbed a cup of coffee from the catering table herself and scurried off. She realized that the love scene she had with John Grant that morning was not as she had expected and for that matter, that she remembered with any great emotion. It was business and well, forgotten as she smiled, thinking of what Marvin was going to think once he realized her devious plan.

Rollie’s mouth was shut by Vanduran pushing his chin up, startling him.
 
 

"Bloody hell!" he said, clabbering to get his mind adjusted to all that Stu had told them in a matter of a few minutes.
 
 

"Sorta like a Treasury X-File…" Vanduran said, with a smirk.
 
 

"We call them Q-files, actually," Stu replied, not even phased by Vanduran’s quip.
 
 

"So, let me see if I understand all of this!" Rollie said, his hands in front of him, moving and gesturing as he repeated the amazing story for his own edification;
 
 

"Eventyn, the original, well, no- the father of the first Hunter Eventyn- Braxton Eventyn…he sent the family gold off just before the Northern troops got to Seven Pines. Sent it on a wagon train disguised as Methodist missionaries on a salvation trail during the war…and it was hijacked by what you believe were Northern soldiers. And then, this gold literally disappeared, it was not counted as a spoil of war by the Union, that the men took it for themselves…"
 
 

"Yes, and as I said before, that gold, about $450,000 in that time in Liberty Head gold, minted in 1856 is worth millions today," Stu continued, raising his finger in important note.
 
 

"But hey, the taxes on it are probably going to eat you up!" Vanduran snapped, shaking his head.
 
 

"Ah, but that’s the rub for the Treasury Department…you see, unlike popular modern gold bullion coins, pre-1933 gold coins are not reported to the I.R.S. or any government agency. That’s law! Whoever lays their hands on this gold has the entire trade amount and doesn’t have to report a single beautiful Miss Liberty!" Stu remarked, excitedly.
 
 

"And now, through your research and well, talking to Eventyn himself, feel that the gold never got far from the plantation. That, the Union soldiers that took the gold ended up at Eventyn plantation, took it over, killing Braxton in the process and holding up for over two years?" Rollie asked, the story and evidence that Stu had was marginal, to say the least.
 
 

"McClellan wasn’t budging from down at Shirley Plantation, don’t you remember? Lincoln had to send him terse letters to get him to move and finally, replaced him! He didn’t seem to mind splinter Union troops holding up at seized plantations like himself," Stu told them, smiling.
 
 

"Okay, then this Union Captain…he’s the one, he’s the one you think hid the gold somewhere at the plantation when Grant came to Richmond," Rollie continued.
 
 

"Yes, letters that I have from Captain Dionysius Chennault to his wife in Pennsylvania…" Stu answered.
 
 

"This is the man, the one that held Eventyn captive for two years, using the house as his own with his men, and taking the food, livestock and women…" Rollie said and suddenly grew quiet, remembering Angie reading Siobhan’s letter to Hunter.
 
 

"Siobhan…she was raped by Chennault…" he suddenly said, out loud.
 
 

"Hunter’s Siobhan?" Stu asked, then realized that it made sense.
 
 

"She called him a "will-o’-the-wisp! She was made to do terrible things by him…I just can’t believe this man would write home to the little wife about it!" Rollie remarked, amazed.
 
 

"He didn’t! There is not a word of anything remotely of that nature in his letters…just about the gold and that he would come home to her soon, rich!"
 
 

"I guess something happened, eh Stu? He never made it home, right? Hunter Eventyn came home from prison hospital and well, maybe he killed Chennault?"
 
 

"No, I don’t believe that happened. The gold never surfaced. Chennault disappeared off the face of the earth as did most of his unit. The army records report them as missing in action, last known station as Seven Pines in 1863," Stu said, pulling out his notepad again.
 
 

"I believe the gold is still here, my friends. I believe a lot of things since being here and seeing some things before my own eyes. Rollie, you and me at the motel…that wasn’t drugs!"
 
 

Rollie looked at Stu and shook his head, "You lied about that too?"
 
 

"Had to, at the time, I didn’t really know where you stood in this matter with Logitech and Sanderlin…"
 
 

"But really, Stu! Do I look like a money launderer? Do I look like I profit much from all this?" Rollie asked, standing up, a bit shaken.
 
 

"Had to make sure…but once I got to know you and well, Angie- I knew she was real, and what she said…"
 
 

"Oh God, another one smitten by your wife, Tyler!" Vanduran voiced, rolling his eyes behind them.
 
 

Stu Westburn blushed and stammered slightly; "No, I appreciate her mind, uh- her ideas with the Jasper chip were astounding!"
 
 

"Appreciate…mind, uh huh…" Vanduran murmured, chuckling.
 
 

"Hey!" Rollie said, glaring at the Captain and then turned back to Stu;
 
 

"So, you want us to keep quiet about Sanderlin and what Judd and his mother are up to so that you can find your gold, right?" Rollie said, changing the subject.
 
 

"No, I want Sanderlin and hey, whatever Judd and Mommy Gallagher are up to, sounds interesting as well- you might get an out of state collar, Captain! But, I would prefer the lid stay on for the moment until I finish putting the pieces together. I’ve been working on this for some time…" Stu told them, almost pleadingly.
 
 

"So, working with Sanderlin and Judd in trying to spook the set was a gag to lure the crew and the media into the biz to gain publicity for the film…to help get Sanderlin his success… and to trap your suspects for the whole money scam scenario…" Rollie said, trying to keep his train of thought organized.
 
 

"Yes…that’s my official duty…" Stu said plainly, letting his shoulders sag slightly.
 
 

There was a sharp rap on the door, all three men jumping.
 
 

"Captain Vanduran?" asked the nervous little voice from outside.
 
 

Rollie walked up and opened the door, staring down at Rob Nesbitt with a frown.
 
 

"Is he in there?"
 
 

"I’m here!" Marvin said, stepping around Rollie.
 
 

"Good, Miss Scott needs you to follow me right now!"
 
 

"She does, does she?" Marvin countered, putting his hands on his hips.
 
 

"Yes sir, right now!" Rob replied, putting his hands on his own hips, and looking at the ground.
 
 

"Rollie, you mind?" Marvin asked, sighing as he thought of what miniscule request Lucinda really wanted from him.
 
 

"No, you go ahead Cap! I have to get ready for the wedding scene anyway. Have to move the van on up the road to location. Meet you there?"
 
 

"Sure, sure…whatever…just don’t DO anything until I get there and Mr. Westburn, that goes for you too!" Vanduran advised as Stu nodded. They watched as Vanduran followed the little weasel man toward the set.
 
 

"You’ve searched the house, I gather…" Rollie said, more as a statement than a question, to Stu as they continued to look out of the van at the Captain’s disappearing form.
 
 

"Yes, been through there again today. Was thinking that after that strange fire, they might have hidden it in a wall on the third floor…but nothing…" Stu replied, exasperated.
 
 

"This is getting bloody interesting," Rollie said, rubbing his chin.
 
 

"Now, think about that times ten years, Rollie…" Stu Westburn told him softly, "that’s how long I’ve been investigating this and we’re this close!"

"I’m not putting this on, again!" Vanduran protested as he stood in front of the wardrobe mistress again, costume in hand.
 
 

"Mr. Vanduran! She insisted!" the woman replied, protesting.
 
 

"That’s Captain Vanduran!" he replied, more of a bark than a voice.
 
 

"Take off your clothes, Captain," the woman said, tapping her foot, "I’ve got six other people to get into costume after you!"
 
 

"Where is she?" Marvin replied, taking off his jacket.
 
 

"Miss Scott has been moved up to the location. You will be joining her shortly if you comply. That’s the end of it, that’s all I know…!" she answered, as she rolled up the make-up table and he growled, noting the muttonchops and glue on the tray in front of him.
 
 

"Last time I had this crap on, I got slugged over the head!"
 
 

"And it could happen again if you don’t watch out!" she replied, pushing him back into a chair.

Angie looked up, startled. She heard the sound of heavy trucks entering the road off the main highway to the church. The crew was here.
 
 

She looked down at Aidan, peacefully sleeping. She put down the last of the papers and stared up at the altar and above it, the stained glass window. The sun was beaming through the brilliant glass, the colors reflecting on the floor in mirrored image just beyond her. The ascension of Christ was an inspiring work of art that she realized had been done over two and a half centuries before her time. In a way, she felt it deep within her as a message of release for someone else as well.
 
 

Rector Frame was just adding some last minute details to the altar. He turned around and looked down at her from his pulpit.
 
 

"Find what you were looking for?" he asked, his voice almost thunderous with the acoustical resonance from his position.
 
 

"I’m afraid I did," she answered, bowing her head. She touched the family Bible that had been opened to the births and deaths recording page. The paper was worn and fragile. There was one page missing. She knew it was the page that would have entered Hunter Eventyn, the second, having been born to Siobhan and Hunter Eventyn, the first. She knew this because she also held a letter in her hand, one that enclosed the missing page. The return address and the signature on the letter had made it clear. Of course, what was in the letter to Hunter Eventyn, the fourth, was painstakingly clear as well.
 
 

Angie looked at the signature and remembered what Charles, the butler to Hunter Eventyn, the fourth, had said earlier about there being an heir still out there. She just couldn’t believe it!
 
 

She folded the letter back into the envelope. She placed all the contents of the box back and locked it. Slowly, she walked up toward the front of the church, the window’s reflection against her as well as the warmth from the sun.
 
 

"Here, Rector…thank you very much for letting me see inside the box," Angie told him as he stepped down and took the box from her.
 
 

"I take it, you now have more burden than you wanted?" he asked, touching her shoulder.
 
 

"I…I think I need time, yes…to work this through…" Angie replied, shaken still.
 
 

"I wish you well, Mrs. Tyler. I hope you can help her, really…" he replied, genuinely.
 
 

Angie smiled briefly and turned around to wake Aidan. As she scooped him up in her arms and carried him out the door, she murmured to herself;
 
 

"No wonder she haunts…"