The Artifact Hunter

By J.T. Lewis

“Secret societies, murder, and intrigue are just the start as the action starts rolling from the very first page in The Artifact Hunter!”

Finding an old yet infamous desk, Jesse Flanagan thinks he has died and gone to heaven when he also finds a mysterious old document hidden inside of it. Feeling like the luckiest man in the world, he turns to his old friend Abraham to have the items evaluated and put up for sale.

Arriving at Abe’s shop the next morning however, he stumbles upon the gruesome sight of his friend...murdered!

Removing the items to his own warehouse, he can only assume that Abe has been killed during a robbery attempt until he suddenly finds his own life in peril!

Accidentally killing the man sent to kill him, Jesse must now go on the run as he tries to figure out who is after him...and why!

Also included: a preview of the next Artifact Hunter story, and an additional preview of J.T. Lewis' award winning series, The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic!

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.T. Lewis
• Release date: Nov 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301536993

J.T. Lewis

Mystery abounds in the books of Amazon Best Selling Author J.T. Lewis.Living in Southeast Indiana with his wife, J.T. has always loved a mystery. Striving to bring readers a story packed full of action, adventure, and suspense has led to his current selection of titles.His first full length novel, Murder! Too Close To Home, was the beginning of the acclaimed Adventures of Gabriel Celtic series, and was voted #1 on Goodreads Best Debut Mystery Series list. The thriller/adventure series continued with Gabriel's Revenge,followed closely by In Case of Death as well as The Book of Gabriel in 2014. The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic is as series about the life of Gabriel Celtic...an ordinary man caught up in extraordinary adventures!Another new series, The Nick Behr Mysteries, starts with the story Kidnap Inc., where we get to meet Nick Behr...as well as all of the people that have crowded into his head! Fighting against the craziness of his life while trying to solve the murders of the current case sometimes leads the story to veer off-kilter a little. This unexpected result has caused the story to be labeled, "One of the funnest mysteries I've read in quite some time!"Also added to J.T. Lewis' series list this year...The Artifact Hunter! Jesse Flanagan is just a guy who enjoys making a profit from the antiquities he buys and sells. When one of his discoveries suddenly puts him in the cross-hairs of assassins, he must change his whole life as he goes underground to try and reclaim his life!An electrician by trade, at night JT Lewis morphs into a fictional detective with a keyboard, a transition that suits his need for creating exciting stories for his ever-growing audience.Find and follow JT Lewis @:http://jt-lewis.blogspot.com/https://www.facebook.com/JTLewis.Authorhttps://twitter.com/JTLewis_Bookshttp://www.wattpad.com/user/JTLewisAuthorhttp://pinterest.com/jtlewisbooks/https://www.facebook.com/Murdr.Too.Close.To.Homehttps://www.facebook.com/gabriels.revengehttps://www.facebook.com/ThePepperAndLongstreetMysterySeries

Book preview

Jesse Flanagan is…

The

Artifact

Hunter!

By

J.T. Lewis

The Artifact Hunter

By

J.T. Lewis

Copyright 2013 by J.T. Lewis

Smashwords Edition

License Notes

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March 1777

New York Colony

The man in the red uniform glanced around nervously, noticing the horse’s breath freezing in wisps of mist in the early morning light.

The night had turned cold again, dropping down below freezing after the sunny spring weather of the previous day. Sergeant James Turner pulled his wrap tighter around himself, breathing his hot breath into his gloved fists to try to warm his frozen hands.

"Blimey! Will this trek never end?" he mumbled to himself for the hundredth time.

Turner’s old mare tripped suddenly on a frozen clod of soil. Tensing quickly, the Sergeant gripped his legs tightly around the horse as he pulled back on the reins.

Whoa Gertrude…steady there old girl.

Regaining control, Turner glanced to his right, shivering at the thought of dropping into the partially frozen bog beside him.

Blasted country! he thought angrily as he tapped his heels into Gertrude’s flank, getting her moving again. Although he was dreadfully cold, James Turner was thankful for the frozen ground below him, preferring it to the slimy mud of the previous day.

Ordered by his major to make his way north along the Swamp Road for this special mission, he quietly questioned the logic of the plan and the sanity of the officer. The major had calculated that he would be less likely to be observed in the swamp, but he had to know that this route would take three times as long to traverse.

Didn’t he?

Turner shrugged his shoulders while trying to get comfortable on the saddle. He hadn’t obtained the rank of sergeant by questioning his superior’s orders, but sometimes he wondered why he cared.

The pompous and elitist Royals and their clans ruled the Army by the mere fact of their lineage. It was a system that had been in place for centuries, and even God himself couldn’t seem to change that fact, Turner thought testily.

His thoughts turned to the colonies and the people that lived within. He now believed that the citizens of this country must be the most determined lot he had ever run across, and he was in awe of their fortitude.

They call themselves Americans, he reflected with a smile, and they had the bollocks to challenge the king himself!

And don’t forget about the land!

Discounting his current location of course, the abundance of the beautiful and fertile commodity was mindboggling!

When the news had hit that the colonials were seeking independence from the mother country, his whole regiment had laughed at the thought. They had been certain that a quick foray across the Atlantic would quickly squelch such a notion.

So far however, this expedition had been anything but short. Now Turner himself was starting to have second thoughts on the matter.

Maybe these backcountry hill climbers had something going on here after all!

Turner continued to reflect on the vast expanses of farmland that could be had for a fair price, something unheard of in England. He had also noticed the industriousness of the people in the cities, proudly starting their own businesses and working at them with a fervor that seemed lacking back home.

But the biggest implement of change in Turner’s thinking were the actions of his army’s officers themselves. The longer the regiment stayed in the colonies, the farther the commanders of his unit seemed to slide away from reality.

"The colonials wouldn’t fight according to the rules," he had heard them exclaim more than once.

Used to a standard of living based on royal privilege and comfort, the officers were now spending months at a time in the field. Being this far from the palatial estates where they were raised seemed to be more than any of them had bargained for.

Turner suddenly stopped his horse to listen.

Hearing something off to his left, he quietly eyed the sparse vegetation around him. Years in the field had taught him that even the smallest noise could be a threat. After a few minutes of hearing or seeing nothing however, he nudged Gertrude forward along the thin path.

He dismissed the thoughts of his idiot officers as he let a smile draw on his lips. He realized that he could do much worse than making a home here in the colonies. Though they had been in the back of his mind for weeks, this was the first time that he had allowed these treasonous thoughts to come to the fore.

If he lived long enough to make it back home, he would put in for separation from his unit and begin drawing his meager pension. He definitely had enough time, and no one would fault him for getting out after serving with distinction in the Colonial War.

Sergeant James Turner grinned. For the first time in his life he had a reason to look past his time in the service of the king!

While lost in these joyous thoughts, Turner didn’t hear the faint noise to his left.

The click that should have alerted him to the danger of the rifle’s hammer being cocked was ignored. Nor did he notice the flash of the primer in the pan as the hammer came down into it and filled the air with light. The old horse took yet another step before the boom of the ignited gunpowder escaped the muzzle, the hot gasses propelling the lead ball into the side of Sergeant Turner’s head.

In those last fleeting moments, as he was sliding off of the side of the horse his thoughts didn’t linger on regret. Instead, his final thoughts were of the newfound joy he felt over his decision.

Quietly slipping into the bog, the lips retained the smile. The now eerie grin was all that remained of the newborn freedom that he had so recently claimed during the last seconds of his life.

***

Present Day

Jesse Flanagan was in high spirits as he pulled in front of the old shop.

The mysterious voicemail he had received from his cantankerous friend late last night sounded promising, if not a bit cryptic.

Come down to de shop in the mornink me boy, I do believe aw have some good noos for you on both counts! I keep your package safe, heya in my shawp overnight, buried under Atlantic Avenuse.

Abraham always reverted to a weird combination of Hebrew- and New York-accented English when he was excited, but good noos in this business almost always meant good money. The cryptic reference to Atlantic Avenue still had Jesse stumped, however.

Jesse shrugged his shoulders. He usually dismissed most of Abraham’s rantings as a rule of thumb anyway. His friend’s advancing age combined with the large portion of time that he had spent alone had left Abraham Kohen more quirky than normal.

But Jesse had indeed left a package with Abe the previous day to see if the old man could come up with a value for two items of interest. One was an old document, the other a picture of a desk.

The aging Jewish antique dealer loved doing that kind of thing, plus he had a lot more patience than Jesse could ever muster for it.

Of course, Jesse paid him well for his valuations, as nobody did anything for free in this business. Truth be known however, that wasn’t the only reason he continued to bring work to the old man. Over the years, Jesse had actually come to truly like the cantankerous old man, seeing him as the closest thing to a father figure that he had ever had.

Humming happily as he turned off the van, Jesse unfolded his 5’10" frame out the driver’s door and made his way around the front of the truck. Flexing his lean muscles as he walked in an attempt to overcome the previous hour’s drive, Jesse saw something that caused him to stop in his tracks.

A small, jagged hole in the shop’s front door glass put him instantly on alert. Looking up and down the sidewalk to make sure he wasn’t being observed, he then crossed the sidewalk and slowly pushed inside the shop.

The place was a mess!

"Somebody’s cleaned him out," Jesse exclaimed under his breath, knowing that it was but one of the many plagues of big city life.

Shrugging again, he called out to his friend.

How bad of a hurt did they put on you, Abe? he yelled as he walked farther into the front room of the store. Glancing around, he saw that several of Abe’s antiques had been severely damaged.

He was never going to hear the end of Abe’s ranting now!

Hey Abraham! Where ya at, you cantankerous old sot? We already agreed on a price for the valuation you know, so don’t be expecting a bonus just because someone broke up all of your stuff!

Although spoken with a smile, Jesse was beginning to get a little worried as he continued to walk through the front part of the severely damaged store. Having scoped out the whole of the shop, he decided to head to the rear of the store.

You hiding out back here? Jesse called out before making his way through the old fabric that Abe used as a door to the back room.

Don’t be hitting me with that old baseball bat of yours either!

He was laughing as he spoke this, but as the curtains dropped away from his face he almost lost his breakfast at the sight before him. Sitting on a stool in front of him sat Abe with his shirt covered in blood!

Abe! Jesse shouted as he moved quickly toward the old man. Laying his finger on the cold, dead neck of the man, he then realized Abraham was many hours past hearing him.

Jesse jumped back quickly with the frightening realization that he had touched a dead body.

It was his first.

Aw Jesus, Abe, he whispered softly as he backed away slowly, Who’d ya piss off this time?

***

Two Days Before The Murder

Jesse felt like he had hit the jackpot!

At least he had if he could work a deal and get the piece out of the house before they were onto him.

Arriving an hour earlier to the little-publicized estate sale, Jesse had meandered through the house with little interest in buying anything.

It wasn’t really that he wasn’t interested; it’s just that everything was priced at full retail value, and he wasn’t looking for anything for himself.

His business was buying and selling these types of things…hopefully with a healthy markup!

Whoever had appraised the collection he was now walking through knew what they were doing, the items all being priced at full market value. The only people who would buy anything here were the already well-to-do that wanted another item to decorate their foyer with.

Jesse wasn’t one of those…yet. But he would be someday…if he stuck to his plan!

Gordon McKay, whose house Jesse was now walking through, had recently passed on. A childless widower, he had spent his last twenty years appeasing his appetite for rare and expensive antiquities. Apparently, he had been so busy with his passion, that he had never taken the time to write a will.

But who needs a will when you have distant cousins, right?

At least that was the scuttlebutt that Jesse had overheard. No sooner had old Gordon’s body cooled off when there appeared in front of a judge two middle-aged third cousins that laid claim to his estate.

Even though Gordon hadn’t had anything to do with these well-meaning folks for thirty years (and couldn’t stand being around them if one believed the rumors), they had the proper documentation needed to prove they were his only living relatives.

Paperwork in hand making them the legal and rightful owners of the estate, Jake and Wilber McKay set about their work. Quickly having everything in the house evaluated, they then set up an estate sale and had everything in place within two weeks.

Jesse marveled at their fortitude.

He was reasonably certain coming into the sale that he probably wouldn’t be able to deal on anything, but he had really just wanted to set eyes on the collection before it was broken up for good.

Plus, there’s always the chance….

When he had happened upon it, his mouth had gone bone dry. Pinching himself so that he knew it was real, he wondered how the McKays’ appraiser had missed it.

The brothers had moved all of the expensive collectibles into two large rooms on the first floor, leaving those considered undesirable where they sat. Inviting the attendees of the sale to look around the house on their own, the brothers stuck close to the money, each one claiming one of the rooms for themselves.

Jesse had been meandering through the many upstairs rooms for twenty minutes and had been ready to leave when he stumbled upon the item…the desk!

Located in a small parlor off the master bedroom, the smallish pedestal desk had not immediately caught Jesse’s eye.

But it had his full attention now!

Looking around to make sure he was alone, he then moved slowly toward the desk. Laying his hand on the burnished oak top, he slid his fingers reverently across the smooth wooden surface. He quietly studied the engraving and the way the joints were constructed, along with the other telltale carved wood moldings added for decorating the piece. Making his way to the chair behind it, he pulled it out and looked around once more before dropping to the floor.

Sliding under the desk, he squinted at the underside of the middle drawer, looking for something he hoped would be there.

There it was! The small initials WE penned in ink over a hundred years ago.

Sliding out from under it, he tried to control his breathing.

Although a finely built piece of furniture, it was showing some wear, which Jesse knew could work to his advantage as far as the purchase price. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest as he thought of the possibilities.

Shaking with excitement, Jesse started to make his way back downstairs while he calculated how best to approach the greedy brothers. When he reached the top of the stairs, he noticed that Jake was already eying him from the bottom of the stairway.

See anything you like up there buddy? Jake called up the stairs.

Steadying himself, Jesse put on his best game face. Feigning indifference as he shrugged, he started slowly descending the stairs. Stopping momentarily in front of a painting, he pretended he had a passing interest in the art before he continued down.

There are a couple of mediocre pieces I may be interested in, he lamented as he reached the first floor. Not sure if they’re worth my time though.

Don’t lay it on too heavy Jesse old boy, he thought to himself as he avoided Jake’s eyes.

Make me an offer on something! Jake said with a greedy smile.

Jesse stood silently for a few moments, pretending to make up his mind while he worked to calm his heart rate.

I’d probably give you a $100 for that small wash basin in the pink bedroom, he started as his heart still beat wildly in his chest, And maybe $600 for the old desk in the master bedroom.

I’ll take $500 for the wash basin, Jake replied quickly, looking at Jesse suspiciously.

And the desk ain’t for sale, not at $600 anyways. My cousin dearly loved that old thing, besides I ain’t dumb. I know what you really got there."

Jesse’s heart stopped momentarily as he wondered if the jig was up.

I have no idea what you are referring to, Jake, Jesse replied, the tension building at Jake’s words.

Trying to look wise as he nodded at Jesse, Jake’s actions came off more like that of a bobble-head.

"That there desk is over 100 years old, and it’s burnished oak! That desk is worth every bit of $2,000!"

Relief flooded Jesse’s body as he strived to maintain an indifferent look on his face.

They didn’t know!

Smiling, I guess you caught me Jake, although $2,000 is a little steep with the wear it’s showing. Would you consider $1,500 for the desk if I take the washstand for the full $500? I only brought $2,000 cash with me.

Jake’s eyes lit up at the mention of the cash. Leaning in conspiratorially, he whispered, Only if you back up my story with Wilber that you only paid $1,500 for the pair!

***

March 1777

New York Colony

Nice shot Nathan, you felled that there lobsterback clean as whistle!

Nathan grinned at his companion, his two front teeth shining brightly in the emerging sunlight.

Twernt that hard George, you learnt me to lead em afore I shoot. He were a lot easier to kill than a rabbit, and he weren’t moving very fast.

Let’s go pull him out of that bog before he disappears for good, George said as he slowly made his way to the path. Maybe we caught us an officer this time; they got all the good shite!

As they approached, the old mare looked over at them distractedly before going back to feeding on the sparse, dry grass of the path.

Leastways we got the horse, Nathan observed as he reached out and snagged the reins.

Not much of a horse Nathan, George replied, shaking his head. Old mare ain’t worth more’n a couple of shillings even if’n we clean er up.

I’ll clean’er up good George, Nathan bragged, I’ll make ya proud of me.

George shook his head, wondering how he ever got paired up with the dunce of the county.

You do that Nathan, but right now, let’s concentrate on that there soldier your bullet done flung out in the middle of the bog! I’m not sure we can even get to im!

"I’ll go grab us a stick George,