by L C Hayden
“Relax. I’m one of the good guys.”
“How can I be sure?” He slowly stood up.
“Because if I was guilty, I wouldn’t be hangin’ around here, and I definitely wouldn’t be talkin’ to no deputy.”
“That makes sense, I guess.” When Bronson didn’t respond, he continued, “I’m also one of the good guys. I’m a deputy in Drifting. You know where that is?”
Bronson nodded. “That’s the town nearest to us, maybe a forty-minute drive.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Drifting needed a deputy. I needed a job. Seeing how I was the only one who applied, I got the position.” His shaking hand wiped his forehead. “I—I never signed up for something like this. I don’t even know what to do.”
“What about the sheriff?”
“I guess I could call him. But it’ll be a couple of hours before he can get here. What should I do in the meantime?”
“Secure the crime scene. Make sure no one comes in until the proper authorities get here. Then you tell me not to leave town. You have a lot of questions that need to be answered.”
Miguel nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good. What are you going to do?”
“I’m drivin’ to Drifting where I’m takin’ my nephew to the hospital. He took a real bad beatin’.”
Miguel’s focus jumped from Bronson to Daniel. “Geesh, kid. I hadn’t noticed all of those bruises before. Are you okay?”
Daniel nodded. “I’m better than my uncle. He had amnesia.”
Miguel’s lower lip dropped. “You need to fill me in on all of the details.”
“I will.” Bronson bent down and picked up the rifle. He handed it to Miguel. “You be careful with that.”
“I will.”
Bronson turned, and Daniel and Sandy followed him.
“Wait.”
Bronson stopped and turned to face Miguel.
“Aren’t I supposed to detain you?”
Bronson nodded. “You sure are. But you know we’re headin’ to the hospital. You can always reach us there or at the local motel. I’m assumin’ there’s one.”
“Yeah, only one. Not the best, but it’s clean.”
“That’s all we’re askin’ for.”
Chapter 58
By the time they were halfway down the hill, every muscle in Bronson’s body screamed and begged for rest. He was getting too old for this. He longed for the simple pleasure of a warm cup of coffee and Carol by his side. Soon, he promised himself.
“What about The Ledger?” Sandy whispered even though she knew they were far from Miguel’s hearing range.
“Until we know what’s what, let’s not mention The Ledger. It’ll be safe here, overnight.” Bronson resumed heading toward town, where the beige sedan awaited them. “But I do have something for you.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved all of the pieces of the vase he had found. He handed them to Sandy.
She eyed the pieces and stroked them as though attempting to learn its secrets. “This is it? This is what was left of the vase?”
Bronson nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“I’m going to keep them in a safe place.” Sandy stuffed them into her pants pocket. “They may not be good to anybody else, but for me, they hold a lot of memories. Thank you for getting them for me.”
Bronson looked at her and winked.
“What about the treasure map hidden in the vase?” Daniel asked. “It’s gone?”
“I’m afraid so. All’s that’s left is a legend.”
Both Daniel and Sandy nodded, and the three walked silently.
Almost half-an-hour later, they stood several yards away from the rental. Immediately, Bronson spotted the note on the windshield. He turned to Daniel. “Be a gentleman and open the door for Sandy.”
Daniel gave him a questioning look but did as told. While they were thus busy, Bronson grabbed the note and stuffed it in his pocket. Nothing good would come out of it, and Daniel and Sandy were already frightened enough.
An hour-and-a-half later, the three sat in the small, single level hospital’s emergency room. No one else was there beside them, but still they had been waiting for almost twenty minutes to be seen. Good thing they didn’t have a real emergency.
Bronson stood up. “If someone wants me, tell them I’m in the man’s room and will be back shortly.”
Soon as he entered the bathroom, he retrieved the wrinkled note from his pants pocket. It had been written in elegant, large letters. Obviously, Bobbi’s writing. He straightened the paper and read:
Bronson,
You think you’ve won but think again.
The one with all of the money always wins—and that’s me. I’ll hire the best to hunt you and your nephew down. No matter how many you kill or outsmart, there’ll always be one more.
Neither you or Daniel will survive.
Luckily for you, Papa Lazzarone came up with a brilliant solution. You forget everything you know and never mention a word. In turn, he’ll allow you and Daniel to live.
Unfortunately, Sandy betrayed our family, and for that, she must pay. This is non-negotiable, Papa Lazzarone said. But at least you and your nephew can walk away.
Do we have a deal? I’ll contact you in the near future.
Bronson wrinkled the note and stuffed it back in his pants pocket. Shiiit. He didn’t want or need this. He dashed out of the bathroom. Until this was over, he would never leave either of them alone.
* * *
“How are you doin’?” Bronson asked Daniel as soon as he stepped out of the emergency room.
“Doc says I’ll be sore and in pain for the next few days, but overall, I’m fine. The x-rays showed no broken bones. How about you? What did the doctor tell you?”
“Same thing. He said I’m a tough old man.”
Sandy frowned. “Now tell us what he really said.”
“He wants me back tomorrow for an MRI to check that bump on my head, make sure there’s no internal bleeding. I told him that was unnecessary, but he insisted.”
“You are going to show up, aren’t you?”
Bronson frowned. “I suppose so. We can’t leave town anyway. I’ll call Carol and tell her we’re goin’ to miss our flight.”
“Sounds good to me.” Daniel stretched. “I’m tired. Did you find out where that motel Miguel told us about is?”
First place Bobbi will look for us. “I’m sorry to spoil your rest, but we promised Miguel that we’d go to the sheriff’s office soon as we left the hospital.”
Both Daniel and Sandy sighed. “We’ll do what we have to do,” Sandy said.
Chapter 59
“Tell me again how you knew the house was going to explode.” Sheriff Eric Lingsberg leaned back on his chair, put his hands behind his neck, and stared at Bronson.
Bronson took a deep breath and answered his question for the fourth time. Frustrating as it was, Bronson couldn’t blame Lingsberg. Bronson had used the same technique. Repetition often caused the person being interrogated to remember details he had left out. It also served to trip the person being interrogated. If he gave different versions each time, the police would know something was wrong.
Bronson told himself to be patient and related every event once again. He began by revealing the events that had led him to Sechrest Falls. He spoke about looking for The Ledger, finding Ol’ Joe a prisoner in his own home, the explosion that led to his amnesia, rescuing Sandy from Bobbi and gang, and eventually encountering Deputy Miguel Chavez at the devastation site.
As Bronson spoke, he purposely avoided looking at Miguel who sat beside him in the small sheriff’s office, listening intently to every word Bronson had to say. Bronson knew Miguel didn’t know that they had found The Ledger, and he certainly had no knowledge about the hidden treasure. But if Bronson looked away from the sheriff, he might pick up on the omission.
Bronson spoke in an even tone and kept his gaze glued on the sheriff. “And that, to the best of my ability, is the story that led to us being here.”
> Lingsberg remained quiet.
Bronson didn’t squirm.
Lingsberg slowly nodded and sat up straight. “I must admit, you tell a convincing story.”
Bronson opened his hands and showed them, palm up “What can I say? The truth is always convincin’.”
“Your nephew and his girlfriend gave the same version.”
“Does this mean that we’re free to go?”
The phone rang before Lingsberg could answer. He picked it up on the second ring. “Sheriff Lingsberg here. How can I help you?” His features remained impassive as he listened. “I understand. I’m glad to cooperate.” He hung up, his hand lingering on the phone. He looked at Bronson. “You’re free to go now, but I still have unanswered questions. You do plan to hang around, don’t you?”
“I’ve been thinkin’. Your town has only one motel. If Bobbi is still around, that will be the first place she’d look.” Bronson shrugged. “I was hopin’ to head out tonight.”
“That won’t do. I want you here tomorrow to clarify any questions I have after I visit Sechrest Falls. The light of day might give me a new perspective.”
Deputy Miguel shot to his feet. “I have a possible solution. I have a huge house. Lots of spare rooms. Detective Bronson and his family can stay with me tonight. Neither Bobbi nor any of her thugs would ever think of checking there.”
Lingsberg nodded. “That works for me.” He stood up and faced Bronson. “I want you here at nine, sharp. Any problems with that?”
Bronson shook his head. “None at all.” He switched his attention from Lingsberg to Miguel. “Are you sure we won’t be any problem?’
“None at all. I’ll be glad for the company. Ever since my wife passed away, the house is cold and empty. It’ll be nice to have someone there for a change.”
“Make sure you don’t have any unwanted guests. Keep your eyes peeled,” Lingsberg said.
The deputy turned to face his boss. “What do you mean?”
Lingsberg pointed to the phone. “That was Detective Joe Randig from Pennsylvania.”
At the mention of the detective’s name, Bronson’s eyebrows shot up, but he remained quiet. Bronson had once helped Randig find his granddaughter, and this was probably payback. Nice, but Bronson didn’t really like to call in favors for doing his job.
Seeing Bronson’s reaction, Lingsberg explained, “Soon as I became aware of what happened here, I contacted the Pennsylvania Police Department. When I explained what happened here and how the possible suspects are from there, I was immediately transferred to Detective Randig. Bronson must have a real pull over there, because no more than an hour later, Randig calls me to tell me that Bobbi and her two nephews are no-shows. He wants me to release Bronson, supposedly to help him over there.”
The deputy screwed up his face. “So we’re letting him go?”
“As a courtesy to the Pennsylvania Police Department, yes.” Lingsberg walked around to the back of his desk. “But like I said, I want Bronson tomorrow to further answer any questions that may arise. Afterward, he’s free to go with the understanding that he’ll make himself available to me anytime I need him concerning this case.” Although Lingsberg spoke to his deputy, he stared at Bronson all of the time. “Is that clear?”
“Perfectly clear.”
Lingsberg nodded and turned his attention to his deputy. “Go bring Daniel and Sandy.”
Miguel stood and headed for his office where Daniel and Sandy waited while Bronson was being interrogated.
The trio wasted no time in leaving the station. They had almost reached their car when Bronson handed Daniel the car keys. “You drive. I can’t. We’re in front of a police station, and I don’t have my driver’s license. I don’t want to get arrested for somethin’ so trivial.”
“Oops.” Daniel retrieved his wallet. “I have it along with your credit cards.” He told Bronson how he ended up with them.
“Good thinkin’.” Bronson placed the cards in his wallet. “You’ll make a great detective someday.”
“I’m thinking more like a criminal lawyer.”
Bronson nodded. “Not a bad choice.” They reached the car, and all slid in. “By the way, no motel for us tonight.”
Daniel and Sandy grumbled.
“Instead,” Bronson continued, “we’ll be stayin’ at Deputy Chavez’s house. For safety reasons.” Inwardly, he added, and so I can move around without worrying about your safety.
Chapter 60
Bronson had always been an early riser, but he had to admit, 5:30 was a bit too early, even for him. Yet, here he was, wide awake. He looked at the alarm clock to verify that his eyes hadn’t deceived him. The large digital numbers clearly read 5:31.
He rolled out of bed and opened the door to his room only wide enough to glance down the hallway. Everyone was still asleep, as he should be. He smiled. If he hurried, he could do the forty-minute drive to Sechrest Falls, retrieve The Ledger, hide it in the car, and be back before anyone noticed he was gone. They certainly couldn’t head back to Pennsylvania without The Ledger, and Bronson felt certain Lingsberg wouldn’t allow him to return to the ghost town, at least not unsupervised.
Before leaving the house, Bronson made a quick stop at the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and spotted an almost new package of lunch meat. That would work. He grabbed it and stuffed it in his pants pocket.
Glancing one more time at the quiet house, Bronson started the car and drove off.
* * *
He set the binoculars down and watched Bronson drive off. No use to give himself away by following him. He knew exactly where Bronson was heading. Yesterday at the interrogation, he had known Bronson was holding back. He couldn’t prove it, so he hadn’t said anything. Besides, it would have been foolish to mention anything. So far, no one suspected him. No one was the wiser. He wanted to keep it that way.
He momentarily closed his eyes and realized how tired he felt. He had spent the entire night sitting in the car, waiting for Bronson to make his move. Wish he had known Bronson would wait until he got a good night’s rest.
He snapped open his eyes, not wanting to fall asleep. He needed to come up with a plan. Follow Bronson and surprise him as he unearthed The Ledger? If so, he’d have to kill him. That part didn’t bother him. He had killed before and had always gotten away with it.
But this was Bronson. A detective, a man of untarnished reputation. There would be consequences to pay. But what other choice did he have? He smiled. If he played it wise, he could still walk away smelling like a rose.
All he knew was that he had to get hold of that ledger, at all costs.
* * *
Bronson reached Sechrest Falls in record time. As far as he knew, no one had followed him. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that not all was well.
He sat in the car tapping the steering wheel. No use wasting time. He had come here for a specific reason, he might as well get on the move.
The wind whispered around the crumbling buildings giving Bronson an eerie feeling. He shook it off and followed the now familiar road he knew would lead to what once had been The Hermit’s house. He drove five to ten miles an hour down the dirt road and kept a constant eye on the path behind him.
No dirt clouds rose. No one was following him. But then again, by driving somewhere between ten to fifteen miles an hour, no dirt telltale marks rose behind him. An astute predator could be doing the same thing. Bronson floored it, hoping anyone following him would do the same.
Still no sign of anyone.
He was being paranoid. He pounded his open hand on the steering wheel. The Bronson before the amnesia attack had survived because he was paranoid. Hot diggity dog. The old Bronson was back.
For some odd reason, he thought of Carol. He’d get back home, and all would be the same. He liked that. He threw a kiss to the air and commanded it to reach Carol.
He brought his car to a stop, and his heart broke in two.
Honey lay in the vicinity where Ol’ Joe ha
d lost his life. The luster in her huge brown eyes had been replaced by a fog of sheer, hopeless misery. She raised her head an inch or two, acknowledging his presence.
Bronson got out of the car, leaving the door open. “Dog, come.”
Honey whined but did not move.
Bronson walked to the front of the sedan and flopped down on the ground. “I know, girl. Your buddy is gone, and there’s nothin’ you can do to bring him back. You can’t stay here by yourself. Come. I’ll take you back to town. I’m sure we can find someone who will adopt you and love you. Maybe someone with a little kid. You’d like that, won’t you?”
The canine lowered her head.
Bronson patted his knees. “Come.”
No reaction.
“Honey!”
At the mention of her name, the dog rose and turned to face the area where Ol’ Joe died. She sniffed, raised her head, and let out a howl.
She ran to Bronson who waited for her with open arms. She lowered her head and buried it in her new friend’s massive chest. “That was a beautiful tribute to Ol’ Joe. I’m sure he saw your goodbye and now has a happy smile on his face.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved the bagged meat. He opened it, hoping the aroma would entice her. “I brought you breakfast.”
Her head raised, high up.
Bronson waved the meat around. “You must be hungry. This is all for you.”
Honey took a step away from Bronson and didn’t reach for the meat.
“I’m sorry he’s gone, Honey. I really am.” He rolled one of the lunch meats and offered it to Honey.
She took a hesitant step forward and gulped it, gone in one swallow.
“Woah, girl. I don’t know much about dogs, but correct me if I’m wrong. Weren’t you supposed to chew that?” He offered her another piece and continued to do so until the entire package was gone.
