Risen (Haunted Series Book 22)

on anything but solid rock.  This is why we started looking on the cliffside of the island first.”
“Do you still have the sailor’s shirt?” Mia asked, taking her gloves off.
“Sabine confirmed it came from the America,” Patrick said.
“I brought it,” Mason said.  He lifted up a salt-filled Ziploc.  He opened the bag and pulled out a smaller bag.  He handed it to Mia.
“Smart guy,” Mia commented.
“I did not take my internship with PEEPs for granted,” Mason said.
Mia opened the smaller bag and lifted the shirt out.  “I agree, it came from the America.  The sailor that wore it was experienced but not well liked.  He had many solo hours when he wasn’t toiling away.  He volunteered for a landing party where they loaded the longboats with barrels of rum.  He and a few others had to stay on the beach because the loads were too heavy.  He waited for the return of the longboat.  The sand sparkled in the sunshine, and then it shimmered.  He felt something moving underneath his feet.  He heard a scream beside him and just turned in time to see a fellow seaman being pulled under the sand by a long tentacle.  Our man ran into the water and started swimming towards the returning boat.  He was within a few yards when a much larger tentacle burst out of the water and wrapped around the boat.  He could hear the screams of the men as the boat was pulled under the water.”
“Shit,” Patrick said.
“There’s more,” Mia said, her eyes glossy.
“Please go on,” Burt encouraged.
“I would tell you his name, but he refers to himself in many derogatory terms.  The owner of this shirt swam back but wisely settled atop the rocky outcropping. He stayed there for a while, but the thirst for water drew him to the waterfall where he refreshed himself.  He ate whatever he could catch on and from the rocks.  He lasted two moons.  Unfortunately, there was a big storm, and it washed him from the rocks and onto the beach.  He woke to find himself a hundred yards from the rocks.  He started running.  It didn’t take long before the sand in front and behind him shimmered.  He avoided the first tentacle but was caught by one behind him.  The slimy arm wrapped around his legs and pulled him straight down under the sand.”
“Did he suffocate?” Mason asked.
“No, he survived the pull through the sand.  He had coughed out most of the sand by the time whatever was pulling him stopped dragging him through, what he could only assume was, the oozing remains of the other sailors.  He felt human hands lifting him and tossing him on a pile of dead and decomposing men.  He saw a lady’s bonnet and shuddered as the skull it was attached to had a big hole in the back.  Not a quitter, this man rolled off the pile and got to his feet and sought out a way to escape.  That’s when he heard the voice.”
“Are you hearing the voice?” Ted asked.
“Yes.  It’s scratchy, reminds me of how corpses talk.  It’s repeating the same phrase in a few different languages, Spanish, English and, of course, French.  ‘I’m sure you are looking for escape.  I’m in a sporting mood.  I’ll give you an hour.’”
“What’s happening?  Or rather, what happened?” Mason corrected.
“The sailor ran and found his way out of the underground passages, climbing higher and higher until he heard the sounds of the waterfalls.  He climbed around on the slippery rocks.  In the distance, he saw a ship approaching.  He wanted to wave them off and away from this hellish island, but he was too far away.  He took off his shirt and tied it to a branch.”  Mia set the shirt down.  “That’s all I’ve got besides your and Sabine’s residue.”
Mason gently took the cloth out of Mia’s hand and returned it, first, to the small bag and then sealed it in the salt-filled bag.
“I was wrong. It wasn’t bait,” Mia said.  “The demon may not know about Sabine, but I’m sure it knows about you two.  And if it’s that astute, it knows about Kevin and Fergus.  There is an intelligence there, but to what end?” Mia mused.  “I think I let Whitney and Angelo color my thinking.  There is no grand conspiracy.”
“Mia, it’s a flesh-eater,” Ted said.  “Don’t go and get all soft on it.”
“It gains knowledge by eating brains,” Mia remembered and seemed to snap out of it.  “It’s still dangerous and, yes, could have used Sabine.  We got lucky and acted prematurely but, in the long run, responsibly.”
“Why were the barrels of rum left there on the beach?” Patrick asked.  “Who put them there, and who benefited by the transaction between the French warship and the rumrunner?”
“I think if there is a conspiracy,” Mason wondered, “it has survived many generations.  I think someone is feeding the island.  And they are doing it for profit.  Our treasure may not be there, but we were led there all the same.”
Burt listened and asked a few questions of the Callens, taking notes.  He stopped and asked Mia, “What do humans get from, let’s say, feeding demons?”
“Power.  Riches, most demons have a hoard.  Like dragons, they love shiny things.  Immortal life.  A demon can extend the lifespan of a human and sometimes enhance the quality of life too.  I worry about what someone is getting from this flesh-eater though.  It’s old, old enough to have been subjected to the old code.  I hope Orion can find some reference to it.  In the meanwhile, we need to keep people off that island.  Especially outside of the reef.  I’m not saying its pet can swim beyond the reef, but the small amount of information I do have tells me the reef is a problem for it.”
“Is there anything else, gentlemen?” Burt