Chapter 7
Though the nearest boat was at least a hundred yards away, I could make out the wiry figure of my favorite Fremont County deputy. Except for two men in wet suits, everyone else had uniforms. When Bennet saw me on the deck, he started his boat and drove it to the dock. I figured I had just enough time to go back into the house and hide my metal detector and call Megan.
I was waiting for Meg to answer when I heard the lift motor engage. “We have company,” I told my sister when she finally answered.
“I was just getting ready to call you, Jake. I already got a call from the nosy bitch on the other side of the cove. She spends her day listening to police scanners. She heard that some fisherman found a body in the lake by my dock, and now the cove is swarming with cops.”
“Tell me about it. You better get back here quick. Bennet is on the way up.” I left Fred in the house and went out to greet the deputy as he emerged from the lift.
Bennet served me with a search warrant before Megan made it back to the house. When she and Kevin arrived twenty minutes later, he and his deputies were already combing the hillside. My fantasy of finding Jesse’s treasure with my new metal detector would soon be shattered by Fremont County’s finest, assuming, that is, there was a cache left down there by the infamous outlaw in the first place.
Kevin was two steps ahead of his mother and headed for the deck railing without saying anything to me. He looked different. I guess a night in jail will do that to a person, and then I realized why. He wasn’t wearing any of his rings or piercings. “How you doing, Kev?” I asked.
“Hope the bastards get covered with ticks,” he answered without bothering to turn around.
By now, Megan had joined us. It had only been a couple hours since I last saw her. Was it possible to age several years in so short of time? I wondered what our parents said to her after I left. “The little twerp say who it was?” she asked.
“Bennet said a fisherman snagged the body when he pulled up his trot line. He wouldn’t say who the corpse was. He was too pissed off about the sock.”
The look she gave me reminded me of the time I had tattled on her for kissing her first boyfriend. “The one Fred found?” she asked. “You told him about the sock?”
“I didn’t see how it would hurt. But then he said he should make an arrest for tampering with evidence. When I pointed out Fred would plead the fifth, he called me a smartass and went back to his search.”
She finally smiled and turned toward the house. “I need a glass of wine. How about you, Jake? Can I get you a beer?”
Kevin broke in before I could say yes. He was wiping a drop of blood from his nose where a ring had been, and I realized why Megan had been so upset. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t considering filing charges for police brutality. “Looks like the pigs are giving up, Uncle Martin. Do you think they found the coins?”
Megan turned and looked toward the dock. We all watched while Bennet and his cohorts walked back to their boats. One of them was carrying a yellow bag. “Hard to tell what’s in that bag from here,” I answered.
Megan shrugged and went back into the house. Fred escaped when she opened the door and went over to the railing, so he could tell them goodbye with a loud bark. They had combed every square inch of my sister’s hillside, including the path Mike had made and the cave it led to. If there had been any James’ treasure, they would have found it, so I was probably going to waste my time when I got around to using my new metal detector.
Kevin must have lost interest in watching the boats depart and went back into the house, leaving me and Fred to see the mini-armada off. I began to join my sister and nephew, and then stopped dead. One of the boats was a Bass Tracker. I swear it was the same boat I’d seen snooping around a few days earlier. I waited until it was out of sight before going back inside.
“Talk about letting the fox guard the chickens,” I said when we were all seated at Megan’s kitchen table. Well, not all of us were at the table. Fred had gone over to his water bowl and proceeded to wash Meg’s floor.
Megan took a long sip of her Chardonnay then looked at me. The wine had already brought back some of her color. “What’s that supposed to mean, Jake?”
“I swear I saw that Bass Tracker leave in the flotilla. He must have been on the other side of the dock before then.”
“Can I have a beer too, Mom?” Kevin asked. The kid was starting to annoy me the way he interrupted when someone else was talking.
Megan got up and went to the refrigerator. “You ready for another, Jake?”
“So, Kev, how was jail food? I hear it can be pretty bad.” I couldn’t think of much else to say to the kid, so I said the first thing that came to mind.
“F-in gross. The slop tastes like shit.”
“Kevin!” Megan said when she returned to the table. “Don’t talk like that in my house.”
“Geez, Mom. Don’t be such an old fart. Everyone uses the F word.”
“Not everyone, Kevin,” she answered. “Only low-life’s talk that way. Have you ever heard Jake cuss?”
Kevin grabbed his beer and got up. “I’m gonna go over to Taylor’s. At least his mom ain’t always telling us how to talk.”
We watched while Kevin made a show of leaving, scraping his chair across the floor and slamming the door on his way out. “Sorry I asked,” I said. “I really wanted to ask about the drugs in the truck, but I didn’t want to hit him with that first thing.”
“Kevin says they didn’t know anything about the drugs.”
“Who? The cops?”
“No, Silly. Him and Taylor. He said they must have been in there when Hal bought the truck.”
“Kevin and Taylor were in the truck when Hal bought it?”
“Quit being such a smartass. You know I meant the drugs.”
“Sorry. Just trying to make you smile. So what do you think? Mothers are pretty good at spotting a lie. Is he telling the truth?”
“Rosenblum had the boys take a lie detector test. That guy is good, Jake. I would have never thought of that.”
“And?”
“Came out negative. But the DA still wouldn’t drop the charges, so now I’ve got to find a way to pay Ira when we go to trial.”
“I thought you said he took a promissory note for his retainer?” I asked.
“That was to cover what I owed. If we go to court, I’m going to owe him big time.”
“Well, there’s always the slim chance we can find more coins. I bought a metal detector today. If you’re up to it, we can go on a treasure hunt tomorrow morning.”
Megan forced a shocked look. “You’re not going to church with us?”
“Church? You still go to church on Sunday?”
“I had to promise Mother I’d go. There’s always a price to pay for her help you know.”
* * *
The morning treasure hunt turned out to be in the afternoon. I found some ticks on Fred the night before and called the vet in the morning. They had an emergency number that they actually answered. I think I became the laugh of the week. People in Missouri didn’t waste money on professional tick removal – not unless their name was Gates. But as I tried to explain, we didn’t have ticks back where I came from, or at least I never saw one, so I listened over the phone on how to remove ticks without leaving the head buried in the flesh. Contrary to the old-wives tale of burning it out with a match, I was instructed to pull it out slowly with a pair of tweezers. They said I could come by during regular office hours, pick up some Frontline, and settle up then. I didn’t know where Meg kept her tweezers, so I simply used my fingernails. Other than a little blood under the nails, it worked quite well.
Megan returned from church in time to watch me remove the last of the ticks. I hadn’t heard her scream like that since we were kids, and I came home with a garden snake. “That is so gross, Jake,” she said, downing a glass of wine to calm her nerves.
She had gone back into the house, or should I say ran back, aft
er seeing me pull a tick from Fred. But now she was back on the deck with wine and beer. “At least you had the decency to do it outside,” she said, still shaking. “Why didn’t you warn me?”
I didn’t usually drink so early, but I decided to make an exception and took the beer. “It’s only a tick, Megan. It’s not like I was cutting him open. Look. He’s not the least upset.” Fred was at my feet waiting for his beer.
Then Fred heard something and went to the sliding door, wagging his tail and prancing back and forth. “Must be Kevin,” Megan said. “Why don’t you ask him to go on that treasure hunt? You know he thinks the world of you. ”
She no sooner finished when Kevin came out to join us. Fred was all over him in an instant. “What’s for breakfast, Mom?” he asked while he bent down to scratch Fred’s ears.
So much for an early start. By the time we finished breakfast, it was after noon.
“Did Mike really find a treasure down here?” I asked while waving the detector back and forth, the way the old man in Lincoln had shown me.
“I guess,” Kevin answered. “He never said nuthin’ to me about it. Give it to me, Fred.” Kevin had lost interest in our treasure hunt, and he was playing catch with Fred. Except with Fred, it was more of a game of keep-away.
“So tell me about the coin you and Taylor tried to sell. Was it made of gold? Do you remember what date it had on it?”
He was engrossed in trying to wrestle a slimy stick from Fred’s mouth. “Yeah. Taylor said it was gold.”
“And the date?” I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever get the kid to talk.
“Hell, I don’t know, Uncle Martin. Taylor took it from his dad’s collection. Why don’t you ask him?”
“Try to think what it looked like, Kevin. I’m trying to help your mother, and the date is very important.”
“Shit. I don’t know. Just an old coin with a sexy bitch on it. You could almost see her boobs,” he said. He threw the stick toward the water and smiled. It was the kind of smile teenage boys make when thinking of girls.
Kevin told me all I really needed to know. I wasn’t going to have to interrogate his friend, the walking wind farm, after all. “You’ve given me an idea, Kevin,” I said. “Let’s go back to the house and look at that picture your mom showed me the other night.”
It took Megan a while to find the picture, so I grabbed a beer from the fridge and went out on the deck to wait. Fred and Kevin were still playing keep-away when she joined me. “I still don’t understand what you hope to find in this,” she said, handing me the photo.
Even though I couldn’t quite read the dates on the coins, the picture confirmed my suspicions “Do you still have the JPEG this was printed from?” I asked.
“The what?” she answered.
“It’s not digital, Uncle Martin. Mike used an old thirty-five millimeter with a timer to take it.”
I nearly jumped out of my seat and managed to spill my beer on my crotch. I had been engrossed in the picture; I hadn’t noticed Kevin and Fred return. Fred was holding a stick in his mouth which must have been why I didn’t hear his usual panting. “Even better,” I said, feeling a little embarrassed. “I’ll get the negative blown up so we can see the dates on these.”
“Did you wet your pants again, Jake?” Megan asked, trying her best not to laugh.
Fred had dropped his stick when he saw my spilt beer and started licking the spots on the deck. I had expected Kevin to say something too, but his cellphone beeped with a text message; he went back into the house.
“Okay, but you won’t be laughing for long.” I poured Fred the last of my beer and then pushed the picture toward Megan. “It looks like Mike sent everyone on a wild goose chase. There is no way those coins were put there by Jesse James.”
Megan surprised me when she fished out a pair of reading glasses from her blouse. I hadn’t seen her in glasses before. “And how did you come to that deduction, Sherlock?” she said, studying the picture.
“Look at the coins. Several of them are Saint Gaudens. They weren’t minted until 1907. That’s long after Jesse and his brother could have buried them.” It astonished me that I remembered this fact after perusing the web page back at McDonald’s.
She put down the photograph and removed her glasses. “I never did believe that crap about Jesse James,” she said as she rubbed her eyes.
I continued now that I had her attention. “I never mentioned this before because it was, well, it was weird, and until now, I didn’t think it had anything to do with Mike.” Then Fred raised his head and started to wag his tail.
Kevin came out on the deck and cut me off in mid-sentence. “Hey, Mom, I need the car to go over to Taylor’s.” He already had the keys in his hands and started toward the front door. Fred was right behind him.
Megan jumped out of her chair to run after Kevin. “Hold that thought. I need to talk to him before he takes off.”
While waiting for Megan, and my dog, I went back into the kitchen and took two more beers from the refrigerator. I could see her and Fred in the foyer talking to Kevin. Actually, Megan was doing all the talking. Fred just sat there listening.
I thought about calling my dog but thought better of interrupting, so I went back to the deck, where I put one beer on the table and opened the other for myself. Then, while sipping at my beer, I went over to the rail to watch the boats. The view was fantastic; you could see boats a mile in either direction. I was watching a Cuddy Cabin go by with a couple of girls in bikinis when Megan and Fred returned.
She picked up her beer and walked over toward me. “A little young aren’t they.” Her tone was more of a statement than a question.
“Who’s a little young?” I pretended to see the girls for the first time, “Oh. Them. I didn’t even notice. I was checking out the motors on that boat: two, two-hundred outboards. That’s some setup.”
“Sure you were, you old pervert. Like you can see that far,” she said and smiled before sitting back down in her deck-chair. “Now where were we? Weren’t you about to tell me a weird story about Mike?”
I returned to my own chair and opened my beer. Fred was pacing back and forth, so I poured him some of the brew before I continued. “We’ve determined the story about Jesse James hiding a stash down there was just that – a story. So where did Mike get those coins in the first place?”
Her smile disappeared faster than the boat with the girls. “I’ve been asking myself the same question,” she answered.
I unconsciously straightened my back before I continued. “Do you remember that news clipping I told you about?” Megan put her beer down and looked at me. Even Fred sensed that I had something important to say; he stopped licking the deck and sat up, too. “You know, the bad copy about a coin dealer and his wife who had killed themselves,” I said, pouring Fred more beer.
This time she spilled the beer. “You think that’s where Mike got the coins?” she demanded without even looking at the spill.
“I’m only thinking out loud, Meg. Don’t bite my head off,” I answered. “Isn’t it strange that he comes into a fortune of gold coins shortly after the Fergusons meet their maker?”
Megan didn’t speak for several seconds. Then before she could say anything, her phone began to ring. “I better get that. It may be Kevin,” she said as she left the deck.
Fred must have felt the tension. He laid down by my feet, his head in his paws, staring at me. I’m sure he was trying to tell me not to make Megan cry.
“It’s Rosenblum,” she said when she returned a few minutes later. “The body was Bill Atkins, and now Bennet wants to charge us for his murder.”
Chapter 8
Forty-five minutes after the phone call, Megan and I were sitting in Rosenblum’s office. It would have been fifteen minutes sooner, but my sister insisted on changing into something less casual. The low-cut slinky dress she chose wasn’t exactly a Sunday-school outfit. We left Fred at the house to sleep off his hangover.
“Why does Benne
t think the body is Bill, and where does he get the idea that we killed him?” she asked the lawyer after he showed us to a pair of chairs facing his desk.
Rosenblum tried not to look directly at my sister, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off her chest. “The coroner will need the DNA report from Jefferson City to confirm his identification. The fish had eaten the flesh on his face down to the bone, so visual ID was impossible. But the driver’s license they found says it was Bill Atkins.”
“But how in God’s name did he come to the conclusion that we killed him?” I asked raising my voice before Megan had a chance to say anything. “I was in Colorado when all this went down.”
Rosenblum must have felt embarrassed for staring at my sister. His face was bright red when he turned toward me to answer my question. “Let’s all calm down, please. Bennet believes you helped your sister cover up the murder. He’s charging you with accessory after the fact.” Then Rosenblum regained his composure, suddenly grinning like a kid who just won a spelling bee. “But he isn’t going to arrest either of you. I was able to stop him from getting the warrant.”
Megan’s attitude changed instantly. “How did you manage that, Ira?” she asked, leaning forward to put her elbows on his desk so she could rest her chin in her hands and return the smile. I was afraid her breasts would pop out of her dress.
“Well, Bennet doesn’t even know for sure the body is Atkins. All he has is that driver’s license, and it could have been planted by anyone. I was able to get George to see reason, and he agreed not to issue the warrant until Bennet can come up with a positive ID and more than a hunch that you killed him.”
01-A View to Die For (2012) Page 9
