Chapter One: The Deception of Appearances

The orchard was dark and silent; a slight wind caressed the leaves, causing the heavy-laden, fruit-bearing branches to whisper to each other. The emerald-green grass shimmered in the moonlight. It felt like another world, one filled with peace and quiet, beauty and integrity.

In case you were wondering, appearances can be deceiving.

Two figures crept through the shadows and the darkness. They didn’t seem to belong there. If one had been there to observe them, one would have noted that the first figure, who was a woman, walked confidently, albeit stealthily through the grass, while her companion, a man, was not quite so at ease with his surroundings. He didn’t seem as confident as her, nor as careful, and several times she paused and whispered a harsh word back to him.

Presently, the two came to a tombstone in the middle of the orchard. The woman stopped in front of it and unhooked a small hand shovel from her belt. She tossed it to the man, who nearly dropped it. Once he had it in his hands, he gave her the normal-sized shovel he’d been carrying. The woman pushed the shovel into the ground, uprooting the green grass. The man got down on his knees and began digging with his hand shovel in front of the tombstone.

If one crept closer to them, one could hear their conversation being conducted in low, furtive tones.

“Do you have any idea of the magnitude of the crime we’re committing right now?” the young man demanded, his voice shaking as much as his hands were. He paused for a moment and shook his head. “No, no, of course you don’t know. You never want to hear the statistics, or the facts, or the truth-”

“Shut up and keep digging!” the woman hissed angrily. “Dig closer to the tombstone! You’re right. I don’t want to hear any of that stuff.”

“You really don’t have any idea,” her companion said incredulously, sitting back on his heels. “You have no idea what this is going to do to us, and the world, for that matter.”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

“So did I, but I find that oftentimes we are mistaken in what we think.” It was the first spark of boldness he’d exhibited so far.

The woman stopped digging and leaned over her shovel, glaring at him, her dark eyes glittering in the moonlight. “Ty, I don’t want to hear another word, got it? I don’t care what this is going to do to the world or us. What I’m thinking about right now is what’s going to happen if someone hears you yapping away. Now shut up.”

The young man backed down reluctantly and moved his hand shovel closer to the tombstone before he resumed his digging. He couldn’t resist one final jab, however. “Yes, O Queen Jocelyn,” he said snidely, mocking her as much as he dared. She sent him a poisonous look and he fell silent.

The woman named Jocelyn paused in her labor and cracked her neck. “Why in the world did they put this grave all the way out here?” she demanded to no one in particular.

“It was a peaceful place for the final rest of their brother,” Ty said immediately, though she hadn’t really wanted an answer, least of all from him. “This seemed the ideal place to lay him. Here, no one would be able to see him and bother him and…desecrate his burial place.” He gave a shudder. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Jocelyn snapped.

Ty looked at her blankly. “That wasn’t my opinion,” he said simply, as though she should already know that. Jocelyn studied him for a moment, feeling that familiar tingle moving down her spine. Ty looked right back at her, unblinking.

“Let’s get back to work,” Jocelyn said finally. They both resumed digging, but the wheels inside her head were turning. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt this sensation when she was with Ty. It was almost as if he knew more than he had a right to know.

Either that or he did really good, yet random research in his spare time.

How could doing research tell you why a certain family buried their brother in an orchard? Jocelyn wondered. It didn’t seem feasible.

She snapped out of her thoughts and noticed that Ty’s digging was drifting away from the tombstone. “Darn it, Ty, I told you to dig right in front of the tombstone. What in the name of Heaven is so difficult about that?”

“The tombstone is kind of in the way,” he said, striking at the piece of stone with his hand shovel. It made a dull chinking sound. Jocelyn lifted her shovel out of the dirt and deftly smacked the hand shovel right out of Ty’s hand.

“I didn’t say to dig on the tombstone, did I? I said dig in front of it.”

Ty reached around the tombstone and picked up the hand shovel again, scowling at her. “Yes, your majesty,” he said, repeating his mockery. “But if we dig up the coffin on accident, I’m not going to be in charge of burying it again.”

“You will if I say you are.”

“No, I won’t.” There was finality in his voice and Jocelyn decided not to push the issue any further. It didn’t really matter anyway, because they were not going to be digging up the coffin, on accident or otherwise. All they were searching for was the bag that had been buried on top of Edward Morley’s coffin, right at the head.

No doubt if her former associates could see her now they would think she was crazy; digging in someone’s grave with the help of an I’m-still-supposed-to-be-in-college-kid. In truth, only four or five years separated her and Ty in age, but sometimes it seemed like a lot more than that.

Maybe she was a little hard on him, but hey, somebody had to be. He was such a strange kid, really. She’d never met anyone like him and doubted she ever would again. One minute he was cowering in fear and the next minute he was mocking her, and the next minute he was being sarcastic. It was the strangest thing. In between those moods, he simply questioned everything she told him to do, something Jocelyn found immensely annoying. Couldn’t he just take an order and not worry about it?

But no. Everything was contrary to how he’d been raised and he thought everything was going to be a horrible disaster that would have outrageously terrible repercussions on the world.

Well, Jocelyn hadn’t been raised like Ty, and therefore their morals came in conflict, along with their religions, etc. And Jocelyn was not going to spend her time arguing about the existence of God tonight. Tonight, she was putting her foot down.

More than usual, that is…

Jocelyn blinked when she realized that Ty was repeating her name. “What is it?” she snapped, her voice harsher than she’d intended.

“I was going to tell you that I think I found it until you bit my head off. Now obviously I can’t tell you, can I?” He sniffed in a haughty fashion, but the slightest smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Apparently, despite his intense misgivings about this whole deal, Ty was just as exhilarated over their imminent findings as she was.

Jocelyn dropped to her knees in the dirt, dropping her shovel next to her. “Are you sure?”

The young man frowned. “No, but I’m sure you will be.”

Ah, typical Ty. Always with the cryptic answers. “Don’t worry, I will be,” she assured him, allowing herself a small smile.

He shrugged. “Like I said…” Jocelyn ignored him entirely and pawed through the dirt for about half a second before she realized she was being reckless. She slowed down and sifted the soil carefully, searching. Ty was right. This was the spot. This was where the bag had to be, if there was even a bag.

There had better be a bag, or Ty’s informant is going to get it.

Ty, being more of a people person than Jocelyn, (supposedly) was in charge of the informants and making sure that they knew what they were looking for. Jocelyn had to admit that her young companion put up with more from those informants than she ever could. Perhaps that was why he was head of that department.

Perhaps also because she didn’t want him to be head of any other department…

Jocelyn’s hands closed around the leather bag and all other thoughts stopped completely. In fact, her heart almost stopped. “Oh my lord,” she whispered, ignoring the look Ty gave her. He always ragged on her about how she said ‘oh my lord’ and ‘oh my god,’ despite her profession to be an atheist. Jocelyn insisted that it was just a social phrase, but she had yet to convince her religiously vague partner of her sincerity, or insincerity, as the case may be.

Ty gaped as she drew the bag out of the ground and brushed the dirt off of it. “I’m going to have to agree with you on this one,” he said, awed. “Oh my lord.” He touched it, just to make sure it was real. “I feel like a pirate who discovered buried treasure, or a gold addict in California.”

The bag was just an ordinary looking bag, but Jocelyn handled it with extreme care as she tugged on the drawstring. “Come on, you blasted thing,” she muttered, twisting the knots.

“Allow me,” Ty said grandly, and she handed him the bag with a snort. He had the knots undone in about five seconds and handed the bag right back. Jocelyn eyed him and shrugged. The ability to untie knots really fast was about the least weird thing she’d noticed about Ty.

Taking a deep breath, the woman shook the back gently and poured the contents into her palm. There were only two things in the bag: two little black pieces of plastic with red buttons on them.

Ty’s face paled when he saw them.

Jocelyn didn’t notice her companion’s reaction and held the pieces up to her face, squinting, studying them closely.

“Any idea what these are?” she asked of Ty.

“I would say they’re far too dangerous for us to be handling,” he said, and his voice cracked, just a little. It was enough to make Jocelyn look at him quizzically, and then disdainfully.

“Oh come off it! We come all this way and now you want to dump whatever treasure it is that we’ve found? Don’t be an idiot!”

“I’m not the one who’s the idiot, Jocelyn,” Ty said, crossing his arms over his chest. “We just dug into the grave of a dead man and found a bag with two little pieces of plastic that look like detonators to me. Still think I’m being the idiot?”
Jocelyn stared at her treasure. “You realize that this isn’t exactly what your informant told us was buried in Edward Morley’s tomb,” she pointed out, still studying her find.

Ty shrugged. “It depends on how you look at it, I suppose,” he said. “He said that there was a very great treasure, worth more than gold, inside the bag. From a certain, indirect viewpoint, he was right, wasn’t he? If they are detonators, I mean.”

“How in the world are we supposed to figure that one out?” Jocelyn demanded.

“Under ordinary circumstances, we’d have them taken in for testing, but we can’t do that. We’d be arrested immediately.” Ty thought for a moment.

“We could just press the buttons and find out what happens,” Jocelyn said with a harsh laugh.

“No!” Ty exclaimed. Jocelyn sent him a warning glance and he lowered his voice. “No, we’re not going to do that. Now let’s gather up our ‘treasure’ and get out of here. And I thought I was the one who always lingers.” He began shoving the dirt back into the hole. “There’s no way we can fix this.” He stared at the desecrated grave and then crossed himself hesitantly. “Forgive us.”

Jocelyn eyed him, surprised. “I didn’t know you were Catholic,” she said.

Ty raised a brow. “I might be, but then I might not be. One never knows, I suppose. Let’s just say I once was.” Jocelyn left it at that. She was far more intrigued by the would-be detonators than Ty’s religion.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said. Ty handed her the hand shovel, which she tucked back into her belt. Jocelyn retightened the string on the leather bag and tied it securely to her belt alongside the hand shovel. Ty watched it for a moment.

“I’m not sure that’s the best place for them…”

“They’ll be fine,” Jocelyn insisted. “Now pick up that shovel and let’s go.” She began walking away. Ty bent to pick up the shovel and froze. Jocelyn looked back at him and frowned. “Come on, Ty. Let’s go. What are you waiting for?” She walked back over to him and got a good look at his face. “What now?”

He swallowed. “I think we’re in trouble,” he said. His hands shook as he picked up the shovel. “Yes, we’re definitely in trouble.” He grabbed her wrist with his other hand and took off running, nearly jerking Jocelyn off her feet. “We got to get out of here.” Jocelyn asked no questions and followed him, keeping up easily.

Suddenly, out of nowhere came the sharp crack of a gun. Jocelyn gave a grasp and stumbled forward, nearly pulling Ty to the ground with her. Ty came to an abrupt halt.

“Jocelyn?” he said slowly. She gripped her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Someone shot me, you idiot!” she hissed. Her shoulder was starting to bleed. Ty stared at the blood, his eyes bigger than dinner plates. “Ty, take the bag and run, okay? Run away. They won’t kill me. Take it and run.”

He shook his head slowly. “I can’t just leave you here,” he said softly. Jocelyn jerked the bag from her waist and held it out to him, grimacing in pain, but he refused to take it.

“Take it, you fool, or they’re going to get you, and me, and the treasure!” she cried.

“Jocelyn, it’s not treasure,” Ty said, shaking his head again. “You don’t understand.” She stared at him, a small frown beginning to form on her brow.

“What…” Realization dawned. “You son of a-” She paused in mid-sentence and glared at him with enough poison to kill a rattlesnake. “You tricked me, didn’t you? All this time I thought you were just an innocent college kid, and you were really working for them, weren’t you? Weren’t you?!!!”

Ty eyed her with some pity. “Jocelyn, those people you are talking about happen to be with the law, and I happen to think that the law is more important than some treasure that might hurt somebody.” Now he took the bag from her still outstretched hand. “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head.

Jocelyn stared at him, her mouth hanging open. Fury was beginning to emerge in full strength and she snarled at him, hissing through her clenched teeth.

Lights flashed through the trees of the orchard, and shouts came closer and closer.

“I really am sorry, Jocelyn. I know you probably don’t believe me, but I thought of you as a friend.”

“Yeah? Well I thought of you as a no good, backstabbing, lying creep!” She spat on the ground. “You sold me out, something no friend would do to another friend. I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you!”
“Jocelyn, you have no idea what your ‘treasures’ has done to hurt people. I didn’t want you to get hurt, but I don’t want other people to get hurt either.” Ty took a step away from her. The shouting and lights were coming closer.

Jocelyn sat still a minute and then she launched herself at Ty, fingernails and fists flying, despite her wounded shoulder. She kicked him and tore at him with all her strength, letting her anger and betrayal pour over into her actions.

“I hate you, Ty! I hate you!”

Ty didn’t so much as touch her.

Police officers and other law agents came running and dragged Jocelyn off of Ty. She gave him one final kick before her legs couldn’t reach him anymore and then she resorted to screaming and struggling and cursing.

Ty looked worse than Jocelyn now. He struggled to his feet and wiped the blood off his face.

“How did she keep her nails that sharp with all the treasure digging?” A young woman in a uniform walked toward him, hands on her hips, eyebrow raised.

Ty didn’t respond to that comment, wincing as she dabbed at his face with a cloth. She noticed it. “You know, you weren’t supposed to tell her the truth until we got there, for one thing,” Marissa said impatiently. “And for another thing, what do you expect when you never even lift a finger to defend yourself? Come on, Ty. All your missions end up the same way. Most of the time, you come home in worse condition than the criminals do.” The young man still didn’t say anything and Marissa rolled her eyes in frustration. “Whatever. It’s not my business. All I’m supposed to do is make sure you do your job, and if you want Miss Jocelyn to clobber you, then I guess it’s not any of my concern, is it?” She turned and walked away.

Ty sat down in the grass, propping his elbows on his knees. “No, Marissa, it’s not any of your concern,” he murmured in a soft voice that no one could have heard. He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his tangled blonde curls.

None of it’s any of their concern, is it? It’s only your concern, and you want to make sure it stays that way, don’t you? It’s hard enough to be rejected by people who you’ve taught to trust you. How much more can you take?

Honestly, he didn’t know.