Ghost River

by Jon Coon

  “Alethea knows?”

  “Yeah, long story. We’ll get there later.”

  “So what’s next? Find Nancy, his fiancée?”

  “As soon as we can. In the meantime we keep each other safe and solve this thing.”

  “Does that mean you’re not ready to send us home?”

  “Nothing gets past you, does it?” he laughed.

  “Well, here’s something that didn’t: you lured me on the dive telling me you want there to be an ‘us.’ Were you serious?”

  He turned to smile at her, “Serious? Of course I’m serious.” He wanted to tell her based on his analytical evaluation of the situation and his consultation with old Ben, and he’d determined it would be mutually beneficial for them to pursue a relationship. But on second thought, perhaps bringing up Ben wasn’t his best option at the moment. “I want you to know everything before we cross any lines. And we need to wait long enough for the kids to get comfortable with the idea.”

  “Is this your idea of a proposal?” She was smiling, but there was that look again. It told him in no uncertain terms he’d left something out, something important.

  “Ah, yeah I think so, kind of a pre-proposal proposal.”

  “What if Paul never gets comfortable with us?” One side of her smile was curling down, not a good sign.

  “Then I guess we’ll have to wait.”

  “How about the dogs. Do we need to ask them too?”

  “They already love you—”

  “Then how about the weather. If it’s raining, do we still get married?”

  “I just think it’s important the kids are okay with us.”

  “Jerk. You won’t get away hiding behind Paul. I’ll wait as long as we need to, but then, with or without Paul’s approval, or the weather, or the dogs, I want a ring and a cake.”

  “No dress and flowers?”

  “Clothing optional. Ring and cake nonnegotiable. Neither, by the way, is your pass to the bedroom. Emily needs to know we live by the rules we expect her to follow.”

  “Deal.” He took her hand and kissed it. Guess that’s not how proposals are supposed to go. I’m glad she didn’t have a gun. They rode in silence a while longer, until they arrived at the dirt drive into the camp.

  “Now what else do I need to know?”

  “Soon, I promise. I have to meet with the DA in the morning and pick up the warrants she’s supposed to have for us. If they’re ready life is going to get real interesting. We need to find the evidence in Peterson’s mansion, find Nancy and that briefcase, and round up the rest of the crew on this sinking ship. Now I need food and sleep. You did a great job tonight, and I couldn’t be happier to have shared the truth with you.”

  “Thanks. I’m happy too. But it is weird. You have to admit.”

  “I do.”

  “‘I do.’ Those are good words. Don’t forget them.” She grinned and kissed him, and they crossed the partially completed new deck to the creaking screen door.

  CHAPTER 26

  0700

  Air quality warning: smoke and fire

  Early the next morning Gabe called Alethea on his way to the dive locker.

  “I wasn’t sure what to do. She told me she knew about my so-called gift and that Charlie knew it too.”

  “What did you say to that?”

  “At first I think she thought I was kidding, but she kept on pushing, so I told her. She came unglued for a while, but I convinced her to dive with me last night. We found Wilson Corbitt, the British engineer. She saw the whole thing. Angels and everything.”

  “How did she process that?”

  “She loved it. She wants to buy Stony’s property together and build a house. She’s willing to wait a while, but she wants a wedding with a ring and a cake. She says the rest is optional.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’ve thought about it a lot. It still spooks me, but if there’s ever going to be a chance for me, I think it will be with her. I never thought I’d be able to say this about anyone, but I think we need to be together. I can still breathe, even talking about the future.” He hesitated to tell her about his analysis with the Ben Franklin technology.

  “You need to be certain sure, Gabriel. If a year from now you change your mind, that would be a real disaster for her and those kids, so please don’t rush. Give yourself plenty of time to think this through. Promise me. The last thing they need is for you to break their hearts.”

  “I understand.” He knew she was thinking about Cas. “I’ll go slow.”

  Zack and Mickey took Emily for burgers and a movie, giving Gabe and Carol a chance for their first real dinner date to a steakhouse followed up with an ice-cream stop. They were on the way home just at dusk. Gabe drove the winding sand road through the cypress trees toward the river. The trees blocked their view of the sky and the camp by the trees until they were almost home. However the stench reached them before they could see the flames.

  Carol gasped when they came into the clearing, and she saw two fire trucks and two state police cars. The firefighters were rolling hoses and packing the trucks. Detective Bob Spencer waved as Gabe parked. Nothing remained of the house but smoldering ash and acrid smoke. Carol’s car was burned down to the frame, sitting in four puddles of stinking, melted rubber. Only the outhouse remained standing.

  “What—! What happened?” Gabe shouted. He fought down his anger as he went around to Carol, expecting tears. Wrong. She was smoking mad too.

  “Charlie gave me that Mustang. It wasn’t even a year old,” she growled. “And I was nearly done with that porch. What happened?”

  Bob joined them shaking his head. He hugged Carol and then put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Where are the kids?” he asked quietly.

  “Movie. They’re safe,” Gabe answered

  “Thank God, I was worried sick. Man, hate to tell you, but we can’t find Wesson. We found Smith. She’s been shot.”

  “How bad?” Gabe’s anguished look said a book-full of his care for the dogs.

  “She’s going to make it. It didn’t look that bad, I had a car take her to the vet. But we haven’t heard anything yet.”

  “I left them outside, so no chance the fire got Wesson.” He paused. “Unless they shot her too. Who reported it?” Gabe asked.

  “A news chopper called it in. But it was too late to save anything. Sorry, man, this is a bad deal.”

  “Not an accident?” Carol asked.

  “Not a chance. They left the gas cans as if they want us to know they did it. Might as well have put up a sign or posted a video on YouTube.”

  “Corbitt’s warning,” Carol said.

  “What?” Bob asked.

  “Nothing,” she replied. Gabe caught her eye and nodded.

  The fire was out, and the trucks left. After assurances from Gabe and Carol that they were okay, Bob and the other patrol car left as well.

  “The kids are due back from the theater. I’ll wait here,” she said. “I’ll be okay. Go and find Wesson.”

  “Come with me. They’ll see the car and know we’re here. Wesson is probably scared out of her mind. And I’d just as soon not leave you here alone.”

  “Okay,” she answered. “Do you suppose there’s insurance?” she asked as they walked the wooded trail.

  Gabe was calling Wesson and scanning the riverbank. “I doubt it. I can’t imagine it was insurable. I’ll need to visit the prison and let Stony know.” He called loudly and whistled again.

  “Will you ask him about selling?” she asked.

  “Still interested?”

  “Starting from scratch will be easier than a remodel. I had a look at the floor joists when I was working on the deck. Wasn’t pretty. Getting the whole place up to code and really livable would have cost more than it was worth.”

  “I do believe you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.” He wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “Because I can drive a nail?”

  “Not just th
at. You are a partner, a crew member, not a passenger.”

  The boathouse was intact, and a very timid Wesson heard their voices and came running. “I’m glad she had sense enough to run.” He knelt beside Wesson, rubbing her head.

  Too polite for jumping, yet eager enough for kissing, nudging and nosing, Wesson communicated her relief quite clearly. A horn honked, and they headed back to the smoldering ruins.

  “Got a plan yet?” Carol asked.

  “First, collect Emily, check on Smith, then feed us. Think about tomorrow.”

  Gabe opened the rear passenger door, and Wesson jumped in. “What else?”

  She was still angry. “We find the jerks who did this and thank them Texas-style.”

  Zack, Mickey, and Emily were getting out of Zack’s truck in shock and awe. Emily was crying; Mickey and Zack were staring into the charred remains. Emily ran to her mother and held on tight.

  “Was it . . . ?” Zack began.

  “Arson? Yes,” Gabe answered.

  “Any idea who?”

  “Not yet. They left gas cans, which might have prints. That’s all we’ve got right now.”

  “Whatever we can do to help. My house is empty, and you all are welcome,” offered Zack. “I’m glad we had our laptops and phones. That would have been a disaster.”

  “Would it be okay for Em to stay with you?” Carol asked.

  “Sure, for as long as necessary.”

  “I want to see what Gabe’s going to do, but I need to go back to our house. Get more clothes and stuff. I’ll call you in the morning.”

  “Right. Whatever you need. Just call.” Zack said.

  Emily hugged and kissed her mom, then climbed back into Zack’s truck. It was getting dark and cooling. The stench from the fire was noxious. Gabe stood behind Carol and wrapped his arms around her. They watched Zack’s pickup disappear into the trees.

  “We’re alone, and I need a real hug,” she said. She turned and buried her head in his chest.

  Safe in Gabe’s arms, she was quiet. Then with a sob, she said, “Please tell me Paul didn’t do this, oh, God, please.”

  Gabe kissed her and then stepped back. He began looking through the ashes where the porch had been.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “The wood-splitting maul. It’s going to take a ton of wood to get over this one.”

  First stop was the vet’s. Smith had been shot near the hip and below her spine. It was a through and through, with no bone damage. She was still sleeping off the anesthetic. “You can take her home in two or three days,” the vet said. “She’s going to be sore for a while. I’ll give you pain meds. You’ll know when she needs them.” Next stop, Carol’s house for clothes. Then to the store. They found a pizza-to-go and finally arrived at Gabe’s big Montana RV.

  They sat in two large recliners and ate the pizza, comforted by the very realistic electric fireplace and soft music.

  Carol raised her glass in a toast. “To our new life together. No fires, no shooting, no more tears.”

  “To our new life. Cheers.” Glasses clinked, and they both drank.

  Gabe’s phone chimed. It was a New Orleans area code. He answered expecting Alethea. Cas surprised him. “We were at Mére’s lot with her new builder and saw the smoke, are you all right?”

  “Yes, but the house is gone.”

  “I’m sorry about the house. I want to see you. We need to talk.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “Tomorrow, lunch. I’ll call you.”

  “Okay.” The phone went silent.

  “Who was it?” Carol asked.

  “Alethea is back.” He looked away, feeling guilty for not telling the whole truth.

  “Oh.” Carol’s tone was less than enthusiastic.

  Later that evening Gabe’s phone rang again. “Hey, man,” Bob began, “something I didn’t want to tell you in front of Carol. There were bullet holes in her car. Twenty-two most likely, or two-two-three, an AR or Mini-14. Won’t know until we get a better look. Thought you should know.”

  “Cas,” Gabe swore under his breath.

  CHAPTER 27

  0600

  Gabe’s RV

  Smoke lifting

  Gabe woke on the couch of his RV to the smell of coffee and toast. Carol was dressed in sweats and smiling as he sat up and tried to reenter the world of fully functional people and leave the world of the comatose and mostly unresponsive.

  “I like your bedroom, and that’s a great bed,” she said. “I slept.”

  She brought him coffee and then sat at the dinette. He got up and rumbled up the steps to the bathroom. He returned in jeans and sweatshirt, still barefooted, and joined her at the table.

  “I can’t believe the fire,” she began, “If it wasn’t Paul, then who? And why?”

  “Someone sending us a message. I’m just not sure what message.”

  Was it Paul or Cas? Rogers and his crew? Could Zack have left the theater and set the fire to avenge his mother? The gas cans proved it was no accident.

  “I still want to buy the property and get started on a new house as soon as we can,” she said.

  “You don’t give up, do you? Well, I guess that’s a good thing.”

  “I want to start fresh now. Are you in or not?”

  “Reality check. How about the kids? This is serious stuff for them.”

  “Okay, we’ll talk with them. Both of us. Emily would be happy if we got married tomorrow. She loves you, and that’s that. Isn’t Paul scheduled to be at the dive locker tomorrow?”

  “Yes. But I’ve got diving to do. I need to recover Wilson Corbitt’s Pelican case before someone else does. And we promised Wilson we would find Nancy.”

  “That’s such a sad story. They had their whole lives . . .”

  “We never know how much time we really have,” he said philosophically.

  “Do you think Paul burned the river house?” She was curled in a chair, arms around her shins. Her chin on her knees.

  “You’ve asked me that at least six times. No, I doubt it.”

  “Then what do you think?” she asked. She unwrapped a bit.

  “Paul was angry with me the last time we talked, but I have a hard time believing he would be that vindictive,” Gabe said.

  “He called Emily while we were in Mexico. She said he was really mad when he found out I’d gone with you. It frightened her.”

  “You didn’t tell me,” he paused to finish his cup of coffee and refill it.

  “I was hoping he’d get over it and it wouldn’t matter.” She lowered her head so that her eyes were just above her knees.

  She’s hiding, he thought. He sat back down beside her and sipped. It was hot. “Sure. But, if there’s a next time, please tell me.”

  “Okay, sorry,” she answered. “You promised we were going to finish our conversation from before the fire. I’m ready any time.”

  “Sure, just let me catch up—” His phone rang.

  “Hey, you guys all right?” Bob asked.

  “Still in recovery,” Gabe answered. “Any news?”

  “Fire investigators will be out there today. I called the office and told them not to expect you for a couple days, that you would be with me working on the fire. No problem. Just a couple other things: We got extradition papers on Rogers. We’re going to bring him back and charge him ASAP. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Good,” Gabe replied. “What else?”

  “McFarland Construction’s senior VP is dead. Apparent suicide at their office. Thought you might want to go with me.”

  “Absolutely. When?”

  “I’m rolling. How about I pick you up in half an hour. You at the RV?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be ready. Have you got a name?”

  “It’s Bodine, Bo Bodine.”

  “That rings a bell, let me call you back shortly. I want to check on something.” Gabe hung up the phone and turned to Carol. “Didn’t Wilson tell us Bodine was Nancy’s last name?” he asked Carol.


  “Yes, I think so,” Carol answered.

  “Bo could be her father. Apparently he committed suicide at work,” Gabe said to Carol. “All the more reason for us to talk with Nancy.”

  Gabe got up and from the small desk, brought a notebook and began writing a project list: Car for Carol, insurance, check to see if the gun safe really was fireproof and look for anything salvageable, get a dozer to clean up the site, get a plumber for sewage, a big propane tank for Montana. Before long the list filled the page. He handed it to Carol, who added to the list:

  buy property

  hire architect

  call realtor

  list house

  live happily ever after

  She grinned and handed it back.

  Bob’s state cruiser arrived, Gabe joined him, and they were off to McFarland’s Tallahassee offices.

  “Can’t imagine they will be too happy to see us,” Gabe said.

  “Enough bad press from this investigation. Could be the end of them,” Bob added. “Was that old engineer, Mayweather, on the list for a subpoena?

  “That he was,” Bob said.

  “Unfortunate. He could have told us a lot.”

  Mirrored glass and polished steel, the McFarland offices were both impressive and in chaos. Peterson’s deposition had resulted in court demands for documents going back years, some of them referring to projects completed well before the current engineers and administrative staff were hired.

  In the midst of the chaos, senior VP Brandt “Bo” Bodine was found hanging from a balcony in the four-story open foyer early that morning. A terse suicide note, sent from his computer, had been circulated in an intraoffice memo after midnight that night. In the note Bo claimed responsibility for the bidding fraud. He apologized to his fellow workers and exonerated the upper-level management. It ended, “Please forgive my actions and the damage I’ve done to the reputation of our company. I’m deeply sorry.”

  Bob put down the note with a frown. “That’s just a little too smooth,” he said to Gabe, who nodded agreement. On the desk were photos of Bo with several different attractive women, some with children. In the bookcase were photos of golf with friends, including Congressman Justin Conners and other affluently stout, older men. In those clubhouse photos, all were toasting the camera. Gabe wondered if one of the girls could have been Bo’s daughter. And if not, why wasn’t she on this memory wall?