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Get Your Murder Running

Page 2

by Liliana Hart


  Hank kicked him under the table. Coil had been making remarks about his and Agatha’s relationship since Christmas.

  “It’s still too bad about those eleven old men who died for doing nothing more than wanting to spread a little Christmas cheer,” Coil said. “It was a close call with you too, Hank.”

  “Yeah, that Ellie Belle was one crazy nut job,” Hank said, “But I have to admit she was possibly one of the most skilled at what she did.”

  “You think she was that good, or we’re that predictable?” Coil asked.

  “I think she had a lot of time for that magnificent mind to spin while she stewed in juvie and the penitentiary,” Agatha said. “I still don’t understand how she coordinated with her uncle, The Bonekeeper.”

  “Aggie, inmates have nothing but time and imagination. I’d swear some of them learn ESP just to talk to someone on the outside.” Hank said. “Serial killers are a special fraternity. They have a network of their own, and they admire each other’s craft.”

  “I’m just glad she did herself in. Can you imagine having to piece all of those parts together in a prosecution?” Coil asked.

  “The FBI will never know,” Hank said, shaking his head.

  “Why are they such hard-noses about these things?” Agatha asked.

  Penny arrived to take their order. She looked much better than the last time Hank had seen her. Penny’s grandfather had been one of the serial killer’s victims, and she seemed at peace now that justice had been served.

  He didn’t know much about Penny, other than she always seemed to be working at one of the restaurants in town, but there was something about her that made his cop radar tingle. He didn’t know what it was, and maybe it was nothing, but he wasn’t comfortable with the way she watched Agatha. But it could also be that he was just becoming overly protective of her. She’d gone to great lengths to keep her identity a secret with her writing, but Penny knew who she was and there was no telling how many people she’d told. Penny wasn’t exactly one to keep a secret.

  “I like your hair,” Coil said to Penny. He was good at noticing things about people. It was the natural-born politician in him.

  Penny had been blonde when he’d been in a couple of days before, but it was a dark auburn with pinkish highlights. They placed their orders, and Penny lingered over Agatha before swishing her way back to the kitchen.

  “You won’t hear me defend them much,” Hank said. “But the FBI has the best resources in the world. About ninety percent of their field agents couldn’t hold a candle to an old-school murder cop, but as far as the science of crime and the tools to figure them out, they are primo.”

  “I can see that,” Agatha said. “But to threaten Will and Sweet with malfeasance is ridiculous.”

  “It’s their only play. They know state and local cops don’t fawn over them, so they have to come on strong because they have no other choice. The day they arrest a guy like Will or Sweet would be the day they pack up all of their toys and move out of Texas.”

  “Well, it’s like I said, good thing she took herself out and saved us the trouble,” Coil said.

  “I don’t think she had any choice.” Agatha tore off a hunk of freshly baked bread. “Her mind was programmed like a machine. That machine was dialed to the number twelve. She had to get that last one no matter who or what.”

  Coil looked at his watch for the fourth time in the last several minutes.

  “You got someplace to be?” Hank asked.

  “My boy had a thing at school. Shelly is stuck at work, so I promised to be there.”

  “Fair enough,” Hank said. “Let’s talk about our victim.”

  Coil checked his watch again, and Hank wondered what was really going on. Coil was as easy going as they come. But he seemed anxious.

  “I’ve called in the Texas Rangers on this one,” Coil said. “Will Ellis is going to help us out, considering we found a fortune in gold under that body. The State Crime Lab has the body now. They’re going to identify the remains. He had quite a few choppers left in his skull, so dental records should do the trick. At least we have a first name of Beau. We also have a criminal outlaw database for the Lone Star Rattlers going back decades.”

  “What about the gold?” Hank asked.

  “That’s the interesting thing,” Coil said. “I know you’re not a Texas boy, so I don’t suspect you’re familiar with the legend of the Rattlers.”

  “You got me there. How about you, Aggie?”

  Agatha shook her head no.

  “Good, then you’re both in for a surprise. When Texas was still an independent republic, and before the United States decided to annex it for her military might and citizens of high character, there was a revolutionary sect called the Rattlers. It was their duty to gather up as much treasure as possible to stash away for the next war of independence. They’d fought for and won their freedom once too often in their brief history, but they’d gained recognition as the Republic of Texas and wanted it back.”

  “You mean Texas was its own country?” Hank asked.

  “Yankee,” Agatha said, shaking her head. “That’s where the Lone Star comes from.”

  “Yep. It was a sovereign nation from 1836 till it became a state on December 29, 1845. There were a lot of people who weren’t happy about that. Felt they were sold out, and were determined to take it back. But…”

  “But…it cost money to wage war,” Hank said, getting the picture.

  “Is that where the gold comes into play?” Agatha asked.

  “Slow down,” Coil said. “I can see a book practically writing itself. The Rattlers gathered treasures, and converted everything into gold bars. It wasn’t only Republic treasures, but there was a massive effort by the Confederates to amass gold to keep the Civil War alive. The Rattlers were notorious for ambushing Union trains and stagecoaches. They even took gold tooth fillings.

  “Once the Republic was surrendered to the United States, the politicians thought it best to divvy up their loot for personal gain and political prosperity. The Rattlers on the other hand, were the ones who did all of the dirty work, and only wanted freedom, not repressive, representative government. They refused to divulge where the caverns of gold were hidden.”

  “Caverns?” Agatha’s mouth fell open. “Filled with gold?”

  “Yep,” Coil said, grinning. “The two factions fought for generations, but the Rattlers never sold out their war reserves. They swore no matter how long it took, they’d either win it or buy back their independence, and Texas would again be free. As life and legends go, no one is sure where any of the treasures are stored. The only thing that remains are the handed down duties of the Rattlers from one generation to the next.”

  “Wow, we’ve stepped into a goldmine, Hank,” Agatha said. “No pun intended.”

  “What are we really dealing with here?” Hank asked, getting an increasingly bad feeling.

  “The Rattlers evolved from horses to horsepower,” Coil said. “They’re an outlaw motorcycle club who are direct descendants from the original Rattlers. It was once their duty to protect the gold, but now it’s their job to find it.”

  Hank could see the bigger picture now. “Greed. But they don’t know where the gold is because they fought over it too.”

  “You got it,” Coil said. “Greedy is as greedy does. Now, no one knows where it is or if it even exists.”

  “Except now we know,” Agatha said. “Does that put us in danger?”

  “Only if others know we know,” Coil said.

  “What did Will say about all of that gold?”

  Coil gave Hank a look that chilled him to the bone, and Hank just nodded. There was no reason to ask again. Coil had hidden the gold.

  “It’ll be completely up to y’all,” Coil said, “But if you want to know, I’ll tell you where I stashed it. If you don’t want to know, I respect that, too.”

  “I’d like to know.” Agatha said.

  “Why?” Hank asked curiously.

&nbs
p; “So there’s a safety net. There’s gotta be millions of dollars involved,” she said.

  “You don’t trust Coil?” Hank was floored. He’d never gotten the feeling that Agatha would set her eyes on the money like this.

  She punched him in the arm and his brows raised. By the scowl on her face, she wasn’t happy with him.

  “I’m going to try my best to not let that get under my skin,” she said. “But if you keep it up I’m going to hit you in the head and hope it knocks some sense into you. I know if you were actually thinking with the brain God gave you then you would never imply such a thing.”

  Call him insane, but he loved seeing Agatha with a temper.

  “I do trust him,” she said. “Just like I trust you. But I also know the risk we’ve been placed in because his son crashed a motorcycle in the woods and we were dumb enough to accompany him into that pit.”

  “How does that place us in jeopardy?” Hank asked.

  “Beau went missing for a reason. Don’t you think now that he’s resurfaced someone will suspect the gold was discovered along with him?” Agatha reasoned.

  “The lady has a good point, Hank.”

  “But how will a bunch of bandits know we’ve got the gold?” Hank asked.

  The three sat in silence for a moment. The possibilities were unlimited because their circumstances were unknown. Hank also knew enough about them to expect that only well thought out suggestions were acceptable at this point. The jokes had come to an end.

  “I knew the legend,” Coil confessed. “I’m sure any cop in the state has heard of it.”

  “And what’s that got to do with our safety?” Agatha asked.

  “In our culture, cops and outlaw bikers run in parallel universes. It’s not uncommon for word to spread within both circles.”

  “You’re telling me someone within the Texas Rangers would tell an outlaw that Beau’s body was found?” Agatha asked.

  “I’m not saying they’d do it out of corruption, but loose lips do sink ships,” Coil said. “Look, I knew exactly what the backstory was once Hank found the name Beau on the skeleton’s cut.”

  “Cut?” she asked.

  “A cut is an outlaw biker’s vest. They wear patches that signify to others what club they belong to and their position in the club.”

  “Oh,” she said, squinching her nose. “I thought those were called colors.”

  “They are, but bikers use the term cut also. It comes from the original bikers who used to cut the sleeves off their denim jackets.” Coil imitated cutting his sleeves off.

  “So what do we do now?” Hank asked.

  “We solve the case before the Rattlers figure out it was us that found it,” Coil said. “And, maybe Agatha’s right. I delivered the body to the lab, so they know I’m in the loop. One or both of you should know where to find the treasure, you know, just in case.”

  Hank didn’t want to think about what "just in case" meant, but he knew they no longer had a choice.

  Chapter Three

  Hank accepted Coil’s offer to show him where the gold was being kept, though he didn’t feel right about making Coil prove himself. He trusted Coil with his life. But Coil also wanted to give Hank the information that had been gathered so far on the case. If anyone had filed a missing person’s report it would be on a typed report and not in the computer database.

  “You know I’d never out you in front of anyone,” Coil said. “Especially Agatha.” He and Hank strolled over to the Bell County Sheriff’s Office building just down the way from the Kettle Café.

  “What are you saying?”

  “Your motorcycle. You don’t have a clue how to ride it. Look, it doesn’t come natural to everyone. My boy, Cody, he’s all over the backwoods with the dirt bike we got him for Christmas. Like a fish to water. But that doesn’t mean he’d be a great detective.”

  “Right, because he’s eight, and he did crash in those woods.” Hank walked up ahead. “It was a stupid purchase anyway. I suck at hunting and fishing, so I thought a bike would be cool. I suck at that too. The only thing I’ve ever been good at was being a cop, and now that’s gone too.”

  “At least it didn’t rip your lip in two like that fish hook,” Coil said, chuckling.

  “So, your kid is going to teach me to ride?” Hank asked.

  “No. Sully over at Reverend Graham’s Harley Davidson is coming by around noon to get your bike. He’ll trailer it to the shop and you’ll go there so he can teach you to handle that beast.”

  “Seriously?” Hank asked.

  “Yep. I called him while you and Agatha were debating whether to kiss goodbye or just high-five.” Coil flipped the lights on inside the building. “Why’d you get something so big anyway?”

  “Because I’d look like a monkey riding a football on anything else. I’m a big guy.”

  “No worries. Sully is a friend and knows how to keep a secret. He’ll store the bike there until you’re confident enough to ride it home.”

  “I owe you,” Hank said.

  “Yes, you do. I’m keeping score so you can keep dressing up in ridiculous costumes for my kids. You made a very believable Santa.”

  They passed by Sweet Jimmy’s Cake Shop and Hank made a mental note to stop in and get Agatha a cake so they could celebrate her book deal.

  “When are you going to hire a new secretary?” Hank asked.

  “I’d rather do it myself. Besides, we’re on a tight budget and I used her salary allocation to distribute among my deputies.”

  “But that means double the work for you.”

  Coil laughed and then sighed. “No, it’s quadrupled my duties, but I’m the only one here earning just above poverty wages. I thought the troops could use the boost.”

  “You’re a good boss.”

  “Well, I hope you think so after this case is done.”

  “Why am I getting the funny feeling you’re already onto something?” Hank asked before entering the building.

  “All I’m telling you is that this isn’t going to be a typical cold case investigation. There is a very real and present danger. I sensed it at the crime lab. Will said I was being paranoid, but I know what I feel and I trust my intuition.” Coil stepped inside the building after scanning the street. “You might want to leave Agatha out of this one.”

  “You know that’ll be impossible now that you have her all fired up about this. Besides, we’ve gotten into a good working groove.”

  “Is that the only groove y’all have gotten into?” Coil teased.

  “I guess it’s obvious there’s more there than work, but we’ve never once discussed it. Or maybe we’re both avoiding it. We’ve got some baggage. All I really care about right now is getting this case closed and saving our butts from an overanxious group of outlaws.”

  Hank followed Coil into the records room and took a seat at the small wooden table. Coil dropped a faded manila folder onto the table. Musk and dust permeated the air in the enclosed, ten-by-ten office.

  “The Rattlers remain an active and violent group,” Coil said. “Just think about the attraction it offers to a rebellious guy. Sure, there are plenty of clubs to join, but this is the only one with the legend of millions of dollars in gold floating around.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned,” Hank said. “Between the old men, the cops, and treasure hunters, how long do you think it’ll be before they trace this treasure to us?”

  “Not long.” Coil rubbed at the back of this neck, but Hank wasn’t exactly feeling sorry for him. The thought of having an active target on his back didn’t sit well.

  “Thanks for dragging me into it,” Hank said.

  “It was either you or my son. He’s got school in the morning, so you won. Or lost. Depends on how you look at it.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “There’s something else,” Coil said. “What we found out in those woods is nothing compared to what gold remains hidden. We’ll need to go back if you’re up to it.”


  “Are we crime solving or treasure hunting?” Hank asked, thumbing through the pages of the report.

  “Maybe a bit of both, but I’d like to have a handle on what we’re dealing with and who might be coming after us.”

  “But why?” Hank pushed the case file toward Coil. “You could easily hand this over to the Rangers. Rusty Gun is going to be swarming with outsiders. You’re understaffed as it is for the rest of the county.”

  “Honestly, it’s good publicity. Most people around here know the legend. And I’ve never had Hammerin’ Hank Davidson at my beck and call. If you can’t solve this, no one ever will.” Coil shoved the case file back across the table. “This is all about you, Hank.”

  “I appreciate your confidence, but I wish you would’ve asked first if I wanted this all about me.”

  “You telling me you’re not interested?” Coil asked.

  “No, I’m interested. But I like for the choice to be mine. Don’t do that again.”

  “So, noted. Make sure you stick close to Sully. He’s your key to getting into the gang.”

  “Gang?” Hank said, his eyes narrowing.

  “Yeah, you have to start finding the older members and questioning them. They won’t talk to you unless you’re vouched for. Sully is a road pirate, but he’s trusted within that community.”

  “Oh, now it’s a community. I take back what I said about the motorcycle. I don’t owe you anything. But you’re racking up a heck of a debt.”

  “It’s not like you’ll have to kill anybody. They’re mostly a mixed bag of retirees, vets, outlaws, and born-again Christians.”

  “It’s the outlaws that I’m worried about.” He rubbed his hand through his hair, and could feel his frustration with Coil bubbling up. He didn’t like being kept in the dark on things, and he had a feeling Coil hadn’t given him all the details yet. “Do you really think this gang will just invite me in to chat? I’m too clean and official looking. It’ll throw them off.”

  The weight he’d lost during the last months of exercise and diet had really chiseled his face and made him look years younger.

 

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