Chapter Text
The morning following JJ’s failed jailbreak, Lottie awoke after having fallen asleep in a pile of her friends on the living room pullout couch. Sometime after returning to the Chateau, they passed out instead of discussing what the next move with Pope’s key was. That had been their intention, but as soon as they all sat on the couch, sleep won, landing all of them in a tangled pile of limbs as the morning sun coated the living room.
Kie was lying sideways across the bed, her head on Lottie’s stomach and legs stretched out over JJ and Pope. Pope had one arm thrown over the armrest and the rest of himself curled up, hogging the only blanket. And JJ was drooling on Lottie’s shoulder, using her instead of a pillow. There was a crook in Lottie’s neck, but she had herself soundly in a dogpile of her friends, waking up to the sound of a car horn in the driveway, pretty well-rested.
As she shifted and tried to untangle herself, her friends started to stir as the hoking became persistent. Lottie was the first one to stand up, slipping on her flip-flop before she made her way outside to see who was honking so early. The rest of the Pogues sleepily followed behind her, grumbling and rubbing the sleep from their eyes.
In the driveway, in all of her glory, sat the Twinkie, cracked windshield and all. Lottie froze, lips parted to ask what the vehicle was doing there, but she didn’t get a chance to before her brother hopped out of the driver’s seat, freed of his orange jumpsuit and a wide smile on his face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, rushing toward him and engulfing him in a hug.
The other Pogues followed, tackling John B. and Lottie in a hug.
“What did you do? Bust out?” asked JJ as they all pulled apart in various shades of bewilderment, beside John B. himself.
“No, this morning they just dropped the charges.”
Just like that? Lottie couldn’t believe it. It seemed too easy.
“Did they tell you why?” she asked, but John B. shook his head.
“I came straight here, but I have to go to the station later so they can take my official statement or something. I don’t know how, but I think they figured out it was Ward and Rafe, not me. They told me, when I go in, to tell them everything I have on the two of them.”
A feeling of triumph washed over Lottie, along with the morning sunshine. The idea of Ward, Rafe, or both of them going to jail for what they’ve done was a victory she didn’t think they’d get. It was what they deserved for killing Peterkin, Gavin, and their dad. For shooting Sarah, threatening John B., and all of the elaborate coverups.
“Maybe Sarah’s plan worked,” said Lottie. “She left yesterday to talk to her sister.”
John B. frowned, eyes scanning the group for a missing blonde. “She hasn’t come back yet?”
Lottie shook her head. “I texted her last night, but she still hasn’t responded. I figured she was staying with Wheeize.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Kiara raised a brow. “It doesn’t make sense that she’d want to be with her little sister?”
“No, just…what if Ward got to her?” He started to pace, tipping off the group to his nervousness at the idea. Lottie tried to call Sarah to soothe her brother’s worry, but the call went straight to voicemail.
“Who knows what else he’s capable of,” John B. continued. “I mean, he did try to have me killed in jail-”
Lottie froze for the second time that morning, staring at him wide-eyed. “I’m sorry. He what?”
“Yeah. Ward somehow got another inmate to yoke me up, almost killed me last night.” His tone was all too casual for Lottie's liking. The steady glowing flame of hatred for Ward grew more and more inside her chest. “I swear, one day, I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.”
Somewhere behind the twins, Kie squinted to look at something. “It’s fine,” she said.
John B. scoffed. “No, it’s not fine! Look, I need to find Sarah before-”
“No,” Kie cut him off. “It’s literally fine. She’s right there.” She pointed to the dock where Sarah rode in on a fancy boat with none other than her ex-boyfriend, Topper.
They met Sarah and Topper at the dock. She jumped off his boat as soon as her eyes fell onto John B., engulfing him in a hug. John B. quickly explained to Sarah the same thing he had just told the Pogues, that he was now a freed man.
“Listen, Sarah, they’re gonna come after Rafe-” he started to say, but Sarah cut him off.
“Good!” she rushed out. “He’s completely lost it. He jumped me last night, that’s why I didn’t come back.”
“He’s out of his mind,” Rafe chimed in. His eyes shifted around the group before they resettled on John B., or more likely, the way John B. was holding Sarah. “He tried to drown his own sister. It’s a good thing I showed up when I did.”
There was a smug look on Topper’s face, and Lottie was reminded of how much she hated him, too. Aside from his string of violence against the Pogues, his name alone was enough to piss Lottie off.
John B. let out a begrudging sigh. “Looks like I owe you one, Topper.”
He somehow looked even more smug. “It’s all good, dude. I mean, somebody had to rescue your girlfriend, right?”
“Actually…” John B. glanced at Sarah by his side. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
Topper narrowed his gaze. “Then what is she?”
Sarah looked between the two boys, between John B.’s expecting gaze and Topper’s securitizing one. She hesitated, fingers brushing against the thin, tied string of John B.’s bandana around her neck before she dropped her hand and rushed out, “Oh, I, uh. I’m with him.”
At the heavily awkward air around them, Lottie subtly knocked shoulders with JJ, who was standing right beside her, and shot him a look to say ‘yikes.’ He nodded, cringing alongside the rest of the Pogues.
Topper laughed. “Right. Thanks for the clarity on that.” He ran a hand through his hair and bid only Sarah goodbye before he pulled away from the dock on his expensive boat.
After the weird exchange, everyone broke apart to let Sarah and John B. talk. Kie and Pope lounged in the hammock as they tried to work out more about the mysterious key and its connection to Pope’s family, along with why Limbery wanted it so badly. Lottie retreated inside, followed by JJ, who was recounting his botched prison break with the utmost dramatics.
“You’re lucky you didn’t get arrested,” she muttered, face pinched as she listened to how he tricked the jail staff that he was a nurse meant to be on the ambulance that he thought would be transporting John B. to the hospital, but it was really some other inmate who was actually sick. JJ learned what he needed from his cousin, who was a paramedic and a dealer on the side.
“I couldn’t; you said you’d sell my bike,” he said, making himself comfortable on her bed. “I’m a man of my word.”
Lottie picked up a discarded sweatshirt on the floor and threw it at him, hitting him in the face. He chuckled and used it as a pillow. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re-” JJ started to say but stopped as Sarah appeared in the doorway. “Oh, the princess doth arrive.”
Lottie rolled her eyes, ignoring JJ and turning to attention to Sarah. “What’s up?”
She looked uncomfortable, fidgeting with her hands as she lingered in the doorway. “Could I talk to you for a sec? Like, girl to girl and not girl to John B.’s sister?”
“Oh, shit. Girl talk.” JJ rested his chin on his knuckles, like he was ready to listen, earning a nudge from Lottie to leave them alone. He sighed dramatically and rolled off the bed before slinking out of the room, giving the two girls privacy.
Sarah closed the door but lingered near it, face pinched in what looked like conflicting emotions. Before Lottie could ask what was wrong, Sarah spoke again. “I don’t know what John B. wants me to do,” she said, frustration seeping from her voice. “Like, I can only say I’m sorry so many times for everything my dad and Rafe have done. And I know sorry doesn’t cut it, but I can’t take back what they did! I can’t undo it, you know?” Lottie nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but Sarah wasn’t done.
“Then with Topper, I-I just…I didn’t want to rub it in his face that I’m not even technically, legally married to John B., after he just saved my life. Okay, and maybe that was shitty! I don’t know! Rafe literally just tried to kill me, and I thought John B. was going to be fucking executed and…and I-”
Lottie took Sarah by the shoulders, cutting off her rushed rambling just as her chin started to tremble. She looked tired, with circles under her eyes, and still dressed in the same clothes as yesterday. Did Lottie feel a little out of her depth, talking to Sarah about her brother? Yeah. But she also guessed she was one of the best people for the job, considering she knew more about John B. than anyone. That was inevitable as twins, even if there were things Lottie could have gone without knowing, and vice versa.
“Deep breath, princess,” Lottie said, lightly teasing the Kook. The nickname no longer held any malice when the Pogues said it. It had turned into a term of endearment for the blonde. “Listen, no one, especially John B., blames you for anything your dad or brother has done, okay?”
Sarah hesitated but nodded before Lottie continued. “John’s just frustrated and angry, but not at you. Honestly, he’s never been great at telling anyone how he really feels, which you can thank our dad for.”
The Routledge's didn’t talk much about their feelings, especially to each other. Lottie did more than John B. and her dad ever had, but every time she did, she felt like she was a burden to whoever was on the receiving end.
Sarah sat beside Lottie on the bed, hugging herself as she sighed. “I know it’s really complicated, with our dad but…I care about John B., a lot. But I can’t do this if that’s always going to be hanging over our heads.”
“It’s still fresh,” Lottie said. “But I’ve seen him have a hundred crushes, and he’s never acted the way he’s acting with you. He loves you, that much I can tell. I don’t think he’d let our parents be the reason he loses you, Sarah.”
Slowly, her frustration started to melt, tense shoulders sinking slightly. “You think so?”
Lottie nodded. “He’s just got to figure all of his shit out first, before he stops acting like…well, the ways he’s acting.” Sarah furrowed her brows, silently prompting Lottie to explain. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but when it comes to relationships, the reason he hasn’t had a real one before you is because he’s scared.”
“Of what?”
Reaching toward her bedside table, Lottie pulled open the top drawer and grabbed an old photograph that rested on top of a pile of junk. She hadn’t opened the drawer since returning to the Chateau. She thought ignoring it would make her feel less guilty about not taking the only photo of her mother with her when she jumped between Limbery’s and the woman’s friend’s. Lottie had left the photo behind, but she didn’t have a great reason why. It was just hard. She thought both her dad and brother were dead, and the only living family member wanted nothing to do with her. Lottie left it behind because she was angry, but it wasn’t like her mom could feel that anger through the photograph. It was likely that the woman hadn’t thought about her or John B. in years.
It didn’t seem fair that Lottie still had to think about her.
She handed the photo to Sarah, who took it gently, with a certain care that made Lottie crack a small smile. “Our mom walked out on us when we were little, but old enough to remember it. What we really remember is what it was like afterwards. Our dad was devastated, but he tried not to show it too much around us. Unfortunately, we Routledges have never been great at hiding how we feel, especially when we’re angry.”
Their dad wore it on his face, etched in the lines of his face and circles under his eyes. John B. showed it in his words, a harsh bite. And Lottie felt it in an awful, all-consuming kind of way, a rage that always, eventually, simmered into a sadness that settled like rocks in her stomach.
“Our dad didn’t like to talk about her. As we got older, no one ever even mentioned her until a month or so before our dad went missing. He’d gotten really drunk for some reason, more drunk than I’ve ever seen him. He told us it was her birthday; even after all those years, he still remembered. Then he just went on and on about how she broke his heart. Most of it was incoherent, but we heard that much.”
Lottie knew they only had half of the story, and while John B. was quick to believe their mom was some evil woman who broke their dad’s heart and abandoned them, Lottie always gave her more grace. Their dad wasn’t an easy person to love. He was so consumed in his work; she didn’t imagine that was easy. But she didn’t know; she’d never know.
“After he passed out, I didn’t think John B. and I would talk about it. But John was a little tipsy, and he told me he was scared to end up in a relationship like our parents, where it was so easy for someone to just walk out of your life after building it with them.”
They never brought it up again, but Lottie thought about their conversation when he had admitted his feelings for Sarah, before the two of them vanished. Granted, he had just gotten to know her, but there was something different about Sarah than the few other girls John B. had gone out with before. Yet, that fear of ending up like their parents was still there, sabotaging an already complicated relationship.
Sarah was quiet for a moment, looking at the photo. “You look like her,” she said quietly.
No one had ever said that to her, even though everyone who had seen the photo of their family knew it to be true. Lottie didn’t look much like her dad, and despite being twins, as they got older, John B. and she weren’t spitting images of each other. Lottie knew she resembled her mom almost scarily, but no one had the guts to say it, like it was a bad thing. Lottie didn’t think it was, and nor did Sarah.
“Yeah,” she said, as Sarah handed her back the photograph.
Rubbing her glossy eyes, Sarah let out a breath and smiled at Lottie. “Thanks,” she said. “You’re good at this, you know?”
“Dealing with other people’s problems is one of my favorite ways to kill time,” Lottie joked, but it was true, partly. If she focused on other people’s problems, she didn’t have to focus on her own.
In a rushed movement, Sarah threw her arms around Lottie, taking the girl by surprise.
Lottie was going to suggest they break apart from the boys for the rest of the afternoon, let things settle before Sarah and John B. talk again, but Kie came rushing into Lottie’s room frantically.
“Something's happened to Pope’s dad!”
A first aid kit was propped up on the bench beside Mr. Heyward. Lottie carefully and quickly bandaged a nasty gnash across the man’s forehead after cleaning up the blood that had dripped down his face. He’d been in slight shock when the group arrived, but Mrs. Heyward had kept a firm pressure on the wound. Which was a good thing because getting Mr. Heyward to the hospital would not have been an easy feat if he had lost any more blood. The man was stubborn.
“There,” she said, hands shaking just slightly as she stepped back after securing the bandage. “Does that feel any better?” The cut wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, but deep enough to hurt like a bitch.
Mr. Heyward smiled softly, grasping her hand and patting the back of it in thanks. “Good as new, darlin’.”
Pope was obviously in the most distress. He had asked a million questions when they first arrived, but they made him take his mom inside to wash the blood off her hands and allow Mr. Heyward a second to breathe.
“Pop, what happened?” Pope asked upon returning, leaving his mom inside.
They all were shades of upset and pissed. The Heywards were like a second family to all of them. Mr. Heyward teased and bickered with them as if they were his own kids, and he cared about them too. The couple insisted that Lottie and JJ stay at their place the night they thought they lost John B. and Sarah. Even though they were no better off than the rest of them, the Heywards’ door was always open if they needed a place to stay.
Lottie couldn’t count the number of times she’d sought motherly advice from Mrs. Heyward, or spent afternoons helping in the shop with the promise of a home-cooked meal afterwards.
The mere idea of someone hurting any of the Heywards ignited in them. Even Sarah, who had known them for the shortest amount of time.
Mr. Heyward started to shake his head, but stopped in a wince of pain. “I should’a known better. He came in just as I was about to lock up and caught me by surprise. Once he had me down, he put his knee on my chest and asked me about that key from that, uh, that drawing you showed me.”
The group all exchanged looks, a mix of surprise and knowing as it became clear who had attacked him.
He continued, looking pointedly at Pope. “In case you were wonderin’, I didn’t tell him nothing. Did you track it down?”
Pope pulled the key from his pocket and handed it to his dad. “It was in Mee-Maw’s old apartment, just like you said.”
“Shit, boy! You should’a gave this to me! I wouldn’t have had to take a beating,” Mr. Heyward said, blowing air from his cheeks as he examined the key. “What’s the big deal? This ain’t worth anything. Why they want it so bad?”
Pope shrugged. “Beats us. First, Lottie gets a letter from that rich lady, telling her to bring me specifically with her to Charleston. Then when we get there, she goes on and on about this key, how she wants me to give it to her. I didn’t even know it was in our family; I don’t know how she did.”
“None of it makes any sense,” said Kie. They all felt deflated. Obviously, the key held some kind of importance, but what wasn’t making itself clear.
Mr. Heyward stood up and clicked his tongue. “Well, don’t y’all just sit here whining about it. Figure it out!”
“No,” Pope said quickly. “I’m just gonna give the key to Limbery. It’s not worth-”
“No, no, no,” he cut Pope off with a wave of his hand. “Did I raise you to back down from a fight, boy?”
Pope sighed, “No, sir.”
“That’s right.” Mr. Heyward looked around at each member of the group. “I didn’t think about it before, I admit that. But now? Now I’m interested. Did this lady say why she wanted it?”
“Something about an old cross. I think it might be some kind of lost treasure.”
Handing the key back, Mr. Heyward nodded. “You know who you should talk to? Mee-Maw.”
Mee-Maw resided in the quaint nursing home on the island, so that’s where they set their sights. Piling into the Twinkie, they started toward the home, ready to ask Mee-Maw what she knew about the key that had once been in her possession. It was a toss-up if the woman would know or recall anything; she was old, and Pope had mentioned that her memory was starting to slip. On more than one occasion, she had called Pope by one of her son’s names. He brushed it off, but Lottie knew he never even would have brought it up if it didn’t upset him, even a little.
“Guys,” Pope said, looking over a notebook he’d been carrying around with him of everything he’d had on the key and notes he’d copied from Denmark Tanny’s diary that their history teacher had given him. “The thing Limbery said about the Cross of Santo Domingo, I don’t think she meant to let it slip.”
Sarah raised her brows. “Are we supposed to know what that is?”
“I’m guessing it’s some sort of historical artifact of great importance.”
Kie looked it up on her phone, learning that the cross had been some grand gift from New Spain to the Spanish King.
“New Spain?” JJ repeated. “Is there an old Spain?”
Kie flashed her phone screen to the group, which had a drawing of the cross pulled up, scaled beside a man. The cross towered taller than the man, and it was full of detailing. There were intricate carvings and something that could’ve resembled gems or stones that covered it.
“Apparently, it was widely considered at the time to be the most extravagant tribute ever from the provinces. It was lost off the coast of Bermuda in 1829,” Kie read from her phone.
JJ perked up beside Lottie. “Did you say Bermuda?”
“It all leads back to the triangle,” Lottie said, repeating what JJ always said whenever anything even remotely weird happened in the ocean. It could’ve been a completely different ocean, and JJ would still find a way to relate a plane crash or boating accident to the Bermuda Triangle.
Lottie was pretty sure it was because she once forced him to come with her to the library when John B. was sick back in elementary school and pick out a book. He grabbed the first one he could get his hands on, which just so happened to be about the Bermuda Triangle. He read the whole thing and talked about it for weeks afterwards.
“I know you’re mocking me, but I mean that,” he said, elbowing her side. She laughed before turning her attention back to Kie, who wondered aloud how the key Pope’s great-grandmother had any connection to some lost gift to a king.
They hoped Mee-Maw had answers, which was why they all joined Pope inside the nursing home. It was an unusual sight to see a group of teenagers inside the place, Lottie imagined. Yet, the nurse working seemed rather delighted to see so many young people there, and she happily led them to where Mee-Maw was half-asleep in the living room area. The nurse gently awoke the old woman, who looked just how Lottie remembered her.
It had been a while since she had been Mee-Maw. The woman used to live with the Heywards for a short stint before they moved her to the nursing home, as her need for care exceeded what they could keep up with on top of raising Pope and taking care of the shop.
They have Pope and his great-grandmother some space as they exchanged greetings and he explained, vaguely, why they were there. She wanted to sit in the sunroom to talk, so they helped her off the couch and followed her into a warm, screened-in sunroom just off the home’s eating area.
No one else was in the room, making it the perfect, quiet place to ask her what she knew about the key. Pope handed it to her, asking if she recognized it. As she peered at it in her hands, the expression on her face flickered to what Lottie hoped was recognition, but she said nothing as she forced the key back into Pope's hand and told him to take it away.
“Mee-Maw, please, you have to remember,” he pleaded. “Do you know whose key it is?” The woman didn’t look at him; she just pulled her sweater tighter around her frame and rocked in the rocking chair she had sat on.
Pope wasn’t giving up, though. “Is this Denmark Tanny’s key?” he asked. Everything they knew pointed to Denmark having some kind of relation or connection to the key, or to what the key led to. “If it is, how did we get it? Are…” Pope hesitated before he asked, “Are we related to Denmark Tanny?”
The question hung heavy in the air for a moment as they all awaited the answer. If Pope was related to Denmark Tanny, then their whole treasure hunt just got a whole lot more personal. Lottie didn’t know what they would mean for Pope, but she knew they’d all be right by his side for it.
Mee-Maw let out a sigh and looked back at Pope. “And his wife,” she said, voice strained.
Lottie recalled the horrible story Limbery had told them about what had happened to Denmark and his family.
“Cecilia?” Pope said, sharing a quick glance with Lottie as she was the only one there with him at Limbery’s.
“Denmark and Cecilia, they’re your great-grand folks going way back,” Mee-Maw said with a slight tremble in her voice.
Pope had been connected to the gold since the beginning. Somehow, Limbery knew that before even Pope himself did.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Pope. Denmark Tanny is in our family. That’s a good thing!”
Mee-Maw’s look turned sharp. “Don’t you know what happened? They hung him! I didn’t want nobody going out there, avenging in his name. I didn’t want what happened to Denmark to happen to you or your daddy.”
Pope sniffled, emotions brewing in his eyes that none of them could even begin to understand. “We still should have known,” he whispered.
Mee-Maw reached out to a kneeling Pope in front of her, taking him by the chin gently. “I was protectin’ you, baby. It was better you didn’t know. And I don’t want you doin’ nothing crazy now.”
Pope managed a small smile. “Nothing crazier than what I normally do.”
She leaned forward, hugging her great-grandson tightly. “Family’s all we got.”
Lottie looked at the group, her little family. They were all she had, and she felt more protective of them than ever.