Magnolia Gods (River Sunday Romance Mysteries Book 2) Read Online Free

you what. You give my grandfather’s wreck an honest looksee. I’ll take your word for it. If you find nothing, then I’ll cross off your debt, sign it over. You won’t owe me a thing.”
    “You’re calling the shots,” said Mike.
    Jesse grinned. He had a friendly face. He said, “You’re wondering how the grandson of a traitor got all this money. I got it because I have a service that farmers are willing to pay for. I help them get real good crops and they like that.”
    Mike bent forward and said, “Let me see if I understand what you want from me and the museum staff.”
    “It’s simple,” said Jesse. “You get your equipment out there into the ocean and make a search. That’s all I want.”
    “Well, we know the Navy found nothing,” said Mike. “As far as they were concerned, the plane disintegrated without a trace left to find. We’ll have to figure out where to look. The seaplane may not be there.”
    “How long will this all take?” asked Jesse.
    Mike thought for a moment and then said, “We look up the records and try to come up with a research area that makes sense. We’ll need money for the equipment, the research.”
    “When you want money, you let Dulany know,” said Jesse.
    “Does that mean more loans for the Museum?” asked Mike.
    “No, I’m paying you for the project costs too,” Jesse assured him.
    Mike looked at him and asked, “Anything you can tell me about the wreck?”
    “Nothing,” said Jesse. “Look, Mike, you think I treated you badly.”
    Mike didn’t answer.
    Jesse added, “I may be right about my grandfather. Then you’ll be redeemed.”
    “What do you mean, redeemed?” asked Mike, looking up.
    Jesse explained. “If he turns out to be falsely accused, you’ll come out pretty good. You’ll get recognition from your peers.”
    Mike did feel a tinge of excitement at the thought of discovering new historical information. He tried not to let Jesse see his emotion. “It’s not our job to find out whether he was guilty,” he said.
    Jesse smiled and said, “I’ll take my chances. I read in the paper your team cleared the record of that Navy pilot, found out that he was a hero taking on a German sub, when the records stated he was negligent. Look, I got faith in you. I put out the money for the search for that P47, didn’t I? I could have lost it all.”
    Mike took charge of the conversation, speaking like a project leader, asking questions. “If we find the plane, what then? Do you expect us to bring your grandfather’s remains to the surface? Maybe salvage some of his equipment or papers?”
    “That’s my hope, yes,” said Jesse.
    Mike smiled, warming up. He began to feel that he could work with Jesse, that Jesse was being honest with him, “Before we go any farther,” he said, “I have to tell you bodies have very little chance of surviving that long in the ocean. We might find some of the wreckage but it’s unlikely we’ll find anything else.”
    He pulled a large yellow marine chart from a cardboard tube he had been holding.
    “OK to put this here?” Mike asked.
    Jesse nodded. Mike placed the chart across Jesse’s desk, carefully avoiding the piles of business forecasts and daily farm reports.
    “This will help you to understand what we‘re up against,” Mike said, his hand steadying the chart.
    Jesse leaned over as Mike continued. “The map is centered on the offshore waters from Atlantic City, New Jersey to Ocean City, Maryland.” He pointed to a black line heading east over the Delaware River and into the Atlantic from Philadelphia.
    “This is the flight line from where your grandfather took off to where the Navy said his plane crashed.”
    Jesse studied the map, his finger following the black line. “My grandmother,” he said, “She always felt that my grandfather was misjudged, that the public bought the story that it was handed. She said he wasn’t a communist, had no reason to be, that he might have been a little crazy because