Doug leaned on the desk, the shadows deepening the lines on his face. “I’m listening.”
Mark leaned on the other side of the desk, locking into Doug’s gaze. “When I was going through my father’s things a few months ago, I found a chest with some gold coins. They were U.S. Eagle gold bullion. They weighed an ounce each and there were a hundred of them.”
Doug whistled. “Wow, that’s a lot of gold.”
“Yes, it is.”
“What did you do with it?”
Mark glanced down at his hands. “Well, I thought of sharing it with Mom and John, but I worried that spending it might be a little dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
“If people knew I had it, they might come looking for more. So I hid it away.”
“Okay,” Doug said. “That makes sense.”
“If we’d been starving or something, I probably would have used it. But let’s face it. My family’s done pretty well through the outage. I was tempted to use it to help the people in the apartments, but what they really needed was my labor and ideas. Again, I worried that some of the shadier guys there might turn on me if they knew I had gold. I’ve kept the family fed, John has been sending money home to my mom, and we haven’t been desperate. But the other night I used some.”
“Yeah?”
“The night before I was arrested, when I sneaked off to get away from Grantham’s gang, I went to this place under the bridge on I – 20. There were lots of people living under there, out in the elements. Families and children.”
Doug hadn’t heard this before. He sat up straighter. “Mark, it was snowing that night.”
Mark nodded. “I had taken three of the coins with me, in case I had to pay for a place to stay. There was this little girl who kept trying to talk to me. I felt like she was in jeopardy, being there around homeless men, some who looked pretty dangerous. And I wanted to get her family out of there.”
“So you gave her the coins?”
“Three of them. I told her to give them to her dad, and then I disappeared.”
Doug stared at him as he processed that. “Wait a minute.” He pushed back his rolling chair and came around the desk.
“What?”
“Mark, today when we were arresting Blake and Randy, when they told us about the two guys who hired them . . .” He looked at the wall, as if running the conversation back through his mind. “They said the guys paid them with gold coins.”
“They said that?”
“Yes, four coins, and they had one left. Wheaton took it into evidence.”
Mark slowly stood up. “Doug, did you see the coin?”
“I did. Mark, it was a U.S. gold Eagle. I know these coins. It was an ounce.”
“No way!” How could that be? Mark stared at Doug, his mind reeling with possibilities. “Where is the coin now?”
“I don’t know. Wheaton has it somewhere.”
Mark rubbed his jaw. His stubble was softening into a beard. He didn’t even remember the last time he’d shaved. “If their story is true, and they were paid with four coins, then that had nothing to do with the family I gave mine to.”
“Maybe they lied. Randy and Blake could only produce that one. Maybe the person that family rented the apartment from used the coin.”
Mark couldn’t make all that compute in his head. “Why would Randy and Blake lie about how many coins they were given? I mean, they admitted to accepting payment to lie about me. What difference would it make how much they were paid?” He shook his head. “No, I don’t think they lied.”
“Do you think Blake and Randy could have found the coins where you hid them?”
That made even less sense. “If they did, why wouldn’t they take all of them?” He sat back down, trying to work through this new information.
Ruth’s family had spent their three coins on a new place to live.
Randy and Blake had four of the same coins.
Who else would have a stash of U.S. Eagle gold bullion coins weighing one ounce each?
Suddenly, clarity dawned. He got back up, shaking his head. “No way. It can’t be.”
Doug’s eyes were intense as he locked his gaze on him. “What, Mark?”
Mark didn’t want it to be true, but he had to say it. “My brothers.”
Doug’s mouth fell open. “Do you think they’re back?”
Mark paced across the carpet. “I don’t know. But I found a receipt that my father had for the gold bullion. That’s how I knew he’d bought them and not stolen them. My dad and my brothers were in business together. It would stand to reason that if Dad had found a good source for gold, he would have told them. Maybe they bought some at the same time.”
“That’s possible. It might even be likely. So do you think they’re the ones who paid off Blake and Randy?”
“Two guys,” Mark said. “In ski masks, so they couldn’t be identified.”
Doug swallowed. “Mark, do you realize what this means? If they were the ones who paid off Blake and Randy, then one of them is probably Zach’s shooter. But why?”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe they just wanted the meat. My brothers never were good hunters.”
Doug sat on the edge of his desk. “I can believe they did it. I met them once, when Deni disappeared with your father. The things they said about her were vile. I wanted to kill them myself.”
Mark thought of the boys he’d known his whole life. He’d never gotten along with them . . . but they were his brothers, nonetheless.
“The Abernathys dead in their dining room,” Doug went on. “The Whitsons, robbed for their food. No one thought your father did that alone. That’s why they suspected your brothers . . . and even you.”
It was all becoming clear. “They set me up,” Mark whispered. “My brothers set me up. They had a bike trailer with the same design as mine. And according to the Emorys, there was a drunk guy in the hall, creating a ruckus just before Zach’s ventilator was unplugged. It drew the nurse out of the room. Then the other one went in and unplugged the ventilator. Two guys — one to divert attention, the other who claimed to be me as he was trying to shut Zach up.”
“Did Zach know your brothers?”
“Probably. They were at Dad’s house all the time before he died. Zach just lives a few houses down. They were probably afraid he’d recognized them.”
“It’s them,” Doug said. “I know it is. Your brothers are killers, Mark, and they’re looking for that gold that was supposed to be in your father’s house. They know you have it.”
Mark realized his brothers had hated him since the day he was born. The thought sank deep into his psyche and settled next to the realities about his father.
“You’re not safe until they find it, son.”
Mark’s throat was tight as he forced the words out. “That’s why we’ve got to find them first.”
FIFTY-FOUR
EXHAUSTED AS HE WAS, MARK RODE BACK TO THE SHERIFF’S department with Doug. Wheaton’s van arrived the same time they did. The deputy chief saw them as he got out of the van.
“We got ’em, boys!”
Mark and Doug helped get the three shackled, angry men out of the back seat. As they led them inside, Tree House kept up a vicious, profane monologue. Mark had never been so happy to see anyone behind bars. He hoped they’d never let him out.
When things settled down, he told Wheaton about his brothers and the gold. Wheaton took notes but decided to wait until morning to try to find them, so they could all get some rest.
As he and Doug started home, Doug insisted that he spend the night at the Brannings’. “You’re not safe at either of your houses, Mark. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Mark couldn’t argue with that. “All right, but I’m sleeping on the couch. No way I’m putting anybody out of their bed in the middle of the night.”
“Fair enough,” Doug said. “The couch it is.”
At the house, Doug brought him some blankets and a pillow,
and Mark sank into the cushions. Despite troubling thoughts about his murderous brothers, Mark fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
NEXT MORNING, WHEN THEY HAD ALL FINISHED BREAKFAST, Mark took his mother and Deni upstairs to Deni’s room and broke the news of his brothers’ involvement.
“It never ends.” Martha fought back tears as she paced across Deni’s room. “I’m telling you, Larry and Jack have been jealous of you since you were born. When they would come for their weekends with us, I lived in fear of their hurting you. I had to watch you like a hawk. They hated me too, even though I didn’t even meet your father until years after his divorce from their mother.”
Deni sat on her bed, writing the facts on a notepad. “Mark, does Wheaton plan to interview their wives?”
“I’m sure he will today. I hope he’ll let me go with him.”
His mother slapped her hand over her mouth. “Mark, I’m worried for your life. They’re evil, just like your dad. And all the sheriff’s department has is a bunch of volunteers. How will they ever find them? They’re smart!”
“I’m smarter.”
A vein in her forehead bulged, and her mouth trembled. “They’re desperate. Just give them the gold, honey.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Even if I knew how to get it to them, it wouldn’t solve the problem. We have to get them off the streets.”
She burst into tears, and he pulled her into his arms and held her. Over his mother’s head, he glanced at Deni. Her head was down, and she wrote furiously in her notebook.
What was she working on?
His mother finally pulled away and, wiping her face, went downstairs. Mark turned back to Deni. “What are you doing?”
“Making a list,” she said. “Brainstorming ways to get word to them. We could use the gold to lure them out. I could post something on the message boards or put it in the paper. If they’re in town, maybe they’d see it.”
“They’d know it was a trick.”
“Yeah, but if they want it badly enough . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she brought her troubled eyes back up to him. “Your mother’s right, Mark. You’re in a lot of danger. Even more than we thought.”
He lowered himself into the chair in front of Deni’s makeup table and picked up a bottle of perfume. Bringing it to his nose, he recognized her scent. Feminine, fresh, clean . . . She must not use much — just a dot behind her ears, like his mother. Just enough to implant that scent in his brain.
“I think besides talking to the wives, you need to talk to Larry’s child. If he’s been home, even for a little while, his wife might not say so. But children are more likely to spill the beans.”
He set the perfume down and touched her hairbrush. “Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea.”
“Maybe you could tell the wives about the gold. Make up some story about how you feel bad taking it, and you want to share it with them or something. If they have contact with Larry and Jack, they’d get word to them. You know they would.”
“Yeah, but what if they’re not in contact?”
“It’s worth a try.”
Yes, she was right. He imagined how that would work. Laura, Larry’s wife, would deny seeing the brothers. Maybe he could leave her a deposit of one coin, and give her a fake location for the rest of the gold. They could post men in the woods around the fake location and catch his brothers when they came to get the gold. But without leaves on the trees, there was too much visibility, and it would be too difficult to hide.
No, there had to be another way.
As he tried to think it out, his eyes skimmed the surface of Deni’s makeup table, lingering on the lipstick she wore on special occasions, the mascara, the tint for her cheeks . . .
The train ticket.
He picked it up, read the destination. Washington, D.C. His heart plummeted.
Deni sprang off the bed. “Oh, I meant to tell you about that.”
He read the date. It was for March 1 — three weeks away.
One way.
Deni grabbed the ticket, along with the envelope containing Craig’s letter. “Mark, I got this yesterday. I came to the station to tell you, but I got sidetracked with the toilets. I’m not going, of course.”
He tried not to look hurt. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Here, read the letter. I haven’t even given it a thought since I got it.”
He took it and read the handwriting of her former fiancé. His mouth went dry as he got to the part about the job offer. “Great offer,” he managed to say.
She just looked at him. “Mark, please don’t start thinking this means something. I’m going to send it back and tell him to get his money back.”
“He said he’d come here.”
“I’ll tell him it’s a waste of time.”
He didn’t know what to say. Slowly, he read back over the letter. The job was something Deni was made for. What a stepping stone it would be for her career. If she took it, she would be on the fast track to success. There would be no stopping her.
Swallowing hard, he said, “Maybe you should go.”
She snatched the letter out of his hand. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He met her eyes. “It’s not ridiculous, Deni. It’s what you’ve wanted since you went to college.”
She grunted. “Mark, I don’t want the same things now that I wanted then. You know that.”
He hoped that was true. But looking at her now, so beautiful, so intelligent, so full of the greatest kind of potential . . . What if she went? Could he hold it against her?
And if she stayed for him . . . wouldn’t she always regret it?
He got up, slid his hands into his jeans pockets, and walked to the window. “If the outage hadn’t happened, you’d be there already. You’d be married and on television in the heart of the nation.”
“Not on television,” she said. “I was just going to be an intern. It’s not like they were putting me on the Nightly News.”
He felt her behind him. She touched his back.
“Mark, the outage did happen. I’m not the same person I was. The Pulses have brought out the worst in a lot of people, but I think it’s brought out the best in us. It’s changed my priorities. I’m not even sure I want to go into television journalism anymore. I may want to keep working for a paper.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to look down at her. “That would be a crying shame. You have a face for television.”
A smile flashed across her eyes. “But I love the power of the printed word. It used to be all about me wanting to make my mark. I wanted to be famous. But that’s not important to me anymore.”
His gaze drifted back to that ticket. “But the job isn’t reporting. It’s communications. It would be such a great position for you.”
Her smile faded, and her eyes grew serious. “Are you trying to talk me into this?”
Was he? “No, I’m not. I just don’t want you to have doubts . . . regrets.”
“If I’m so gifted, I can get a job anywhere. But this isn’t about the job, is it, Mark? It’s about him. And about you.”
He blew out a hard breath and looked at that ticket in her hand. “I come with a lot of baggage, Deni.”
Her eyes softened. “Mark, when Craig was here, he felt inferior to you. You’re stronger, more capable, more inventive, more giving. You’re the one with integrity and faith and ingenuity. You’re like my dad, and he’s the greatest man I know.”
High praise, Mark thought. If only it were true. People were always accusing him of being like his dad. To be like Doug . . .
Just the thought filled him with a fragile pride.
Deni took his hands and made him look at her. “Mark, tell me we have a future together.”
His heart raced with longing, and he wanted to hold her and tell her that they did, that they would be together forever. “We can have a future even if you go. If we’re meant to be together, we will be.”
He chuckled softly. “Craig didn’t send a ticket for me.”
“Hey, you’ve got a pot of gold.”
She was joking, he knew, but his smile faded. “I need to stay here until the Pulses are over. There’s no place for me in Washington. I’d be so out of my element.”
He didn’t like seeing the pain in her eyes.
“So you’re telling me to go without you and take a job 750 miles away, working with a man I was once going to marry?”
Mark knew the whole thing was stupid. What was he thinking?
“You still think I’m shallow, don’t you, Mark? You think the glamour of a job like that, a man like Craig, will lure me. You don’t believe I’ve changed.”
“It’s not bad to have ambition, Deni.”
She tossed the ticket down and went into her closet. “I cleaned toilets with you yesterday,” she said as she emerged with her tennis shoes.
“I know you did, Deni. You were a trouper. I just don’t want life to go back to normal, and have you feel like you’re settling for Crockett . . . or for me.”
Tears burst into her eyes. She sat down on the bed and pulled her shoes on. Tying them with furious motions, she said, “It’s just the opposite, Mark. If I had married Craig, I would have been settling for him. And he would have known it. He would have spent his life comparing himself to you.”
Getting back to her feet, she faced off with him. “I’m staying here, and that’s that.”
Relief flooded through him, but he couldn’t believe she meant it.
She let out a hard sigh. “I have to go to the well. My family needs water.”
He just nodded. “I think your dad and I are going with Wheaton to look for my brothers.”
Crossing her arms, she started for the stairs. At the doorway, she looked back at him. “Be careful, Mark.”
“I promise,” he said.
FIFTY-FIVE
DENI DIDN’T GO STRAIGHT TO THE WELL. INSTEAD, SHE went to her parents’ bedroom door. Knocking, she said, “Mom? Dad?”
True Light Page 20
