“I’ll do my best to make sure you have access to the cistern site after the sale of the ranch and the Journal is yours to work on as long as you need it. I don’t intend to make the Journal part of the sale. But if they find the treasure after the sale, that’s a whole other story. Whether you have access to it will be up to the new owner.”
“Maybe you should retain the rights to any future discoveries on the land,” Hannah said. “Like mineral rights or water rights. Call it treasure rights.”
“Hey, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll talk to Sam and see what he thinks. The State of Texas doesn’t give up its rights to the antiquities just because the title to the land changes. Maybe we could piggyback on that concept to ensure you are part of whatever they find. If they want the property bad enough they’d have to agree to it.”
“You’re not interested in the gold?” Shane asked in disbelief.
Before I could answer, Hannah said, “Thanks, Max. I was thinking, the French family connection could explain why the caravan was headed toward French territory. Maybe the de Lionne family was in business in New Orleans at the time or waiting there to transport the gold back to Europe. One thing the Templars became very good at during the Crusades was moving troops, materials, and large quantities of wealth across the oceans. They had fast cargo ships and the war ships to protect them before they were driven out of the Holy Lands. Perhaps the de Lionne descendants went into the shipping business.”
“To answer your question, Shane, I don’t think there’s any gold on the Pape Ranch. Let’s assume a scenario where the gold made it to its destination and the potential buyers don’t know about the map. What do you think the two buyers are after? They must think something is there on the ranch.” I said. My mind was on the sinkhole beneath the cistern.
“In that scenario, I don’t have any idea,” Hannah said. “If I had to guess, it would be related to the jade Death Mask mentioned in the Journal. It seemed pretty important to that woman and it’s the only thing we have to go on that is substantiated by a reference. There is no mention of the etching on the capstone in the Journal. Maybe someone else in the caravan kept a journal of some sort and mentioned the gold being transported and the stop at the cistern.”
“That’s a possibility. Truth is, we may never know what the buyers are after, unless we ask them,” I offered.
“If you’re going to sell the property, I’d still like to explore the cavern beneath the cistern. I want to be the first one down there and name that dripstone,” Hannah said”
“No way,” Shane interjected.
“Excuse me?” Hannah said.
“Shane’s right. I don’t want you going down there by yourself. Make sure you have a partner.”
“She will,” Shane said. I think he realized he was being overly protective of Hannah and had the good sense to realize his mistake. Hannah didn’t need protecting. “I’ll help her,” he added quickly.
“You need to get down in the cavern soon,” I said. “I’m going to call James Lee this afternoon and bring him up to date and then call the Bishop back. He wants to see the site in a few days.”
“What about the LIDAR imaging? They’re almost finished with their proposal,” Hannah said.
“That’s fine. I’d like to see it. Whoever buys the property can decide if they want to develop the caverns based on the imagery.”
“How much time do I have?” Hannah asked.
“The Bishop or the buyer from France could show up with a check in hand and demand that all exploration of the site be stopped. I’d get on it, if I were you.”
“As much as I want to, I couldn’t do it before the Bishop shows up. I’d want to do it right and that will take weeks at the least before I can get down in there. We need to prevent any damage to the cavern with a new entranceway, so I would want to build a sealed entranceway to the cavern, if possible,” she said.
“You’d better get started. I’ll try to delay the Bishop’s visit.”
I could tell Hannah realized she was going to lose the opportunity to explore the cavern first and I felt bad for her.
“You know, the Maya valued jade as much as gold. It was reserved for royalty. The death mask probably has more historical significance than actual monetary value, and that’s why the woman was so interested in it,” Hannah offered. “It could become an icon for some ideology, a symbol for the Mayan people to rally around, especially if there is a prophecy associated with it. Any real value to the Mask may just be in the eyes of the Mayan believers in the prophecy.”
“I don’t remember if she ever said what she specifically wanted it for; just that it was part of a Mayan prophesy. I kinda believed her story that when she found the Mask, her curse would be ended. It certainly goes to motivation. But even if it was some kind of Mayan Icon, why would the Catholic Church have an interest in a Mayan death mask? I could see an individual, like a pre-Columbian collector of Mesoamerican antiquities wanting it; it would be very valuable collectable. I don’t see the Church connection, though. They don’t need the money and the Mask has no relationship to Christian Faith.”
“Maybe you should ask the Bishop,” Hannah said.
“Oh, I will.”
. . .
“I want to go faster,” Katie said.
We were on horseback and headed for the Butterfly Pasture. I picked up the pace on the old two-track dirt road that snaked through the ranch. Years ago, when I started the land reclamation on the ranch, I decided to keep the roads where they were. I had learned to drive on these dirt roads along with my brother. I’d taught my kids to drive on them and suspected that I’d teach Katie one day too. For now, I was teaching her to appreciate a good horse under her rather than a vehicle. I took some satisfaction in that. Neither one of her brothers had taken to horses.
I doubted, though, she could appreciate the beauty of the pasture at her young age. It was a pleasure to behold in these rolling hills in the back of the ranch. We were far enough away from the roads that all we could hear was a meadow lark on a fence line and the clopping of our horses. The Butterfly Pasture reminded me of a giant painter’s palette still covered in the artist’s colors as we approached. We stopped and dismounted beneath the lone Live Oak tree.
“Daddy,” she said with that voice that told me an important question was coming.
“Yes.”
“Is Kevin going to go live with Nick?”
It was obvious she didn’t understand what was going on with her brothers. No one had taken the time to explain what they were doing and why.
“Probably not. He’ll have to go where the Marines send him.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s the way it works. When he joined the Marines, he agreed to go wherever they sent him.”
“When is he coming back?”
“I don’t know, Sweetpea. Do you miss him?”
“Yes. I’m glad Ariana is here.”
“Me, too.”
“I can’t wait to have a sister.”
“If Ariana has a girl, she won’t be your sister. She’ll be your niece and you’ll be her aunt.”
“What! Momma said she could be my sister.”
“Sure, you can pretend you’re her sister.”
“It’s not the same,” she said and started to whimper.
I tied the reins on a low branch of the tree and took her hand in mine like she was still five years old. We walked into the field of flowers hand in hand. They looked beautiful from a distance but the preponderance of milkweed up close made her scrunch up her nose. I picked her up and she didn’t mind. We walked back to the edge of the field and I set her down.
“Being her aunt is much more important,” I said as I inspected some of the chest-high stalks on the edge of the planted field.
“No, it’s not. I want to be her sister. She won’t leave if we’re sisters.”
“Who said she was going to leave?”
“I heard Momma and Ariana talking. Ariana wants to go where Kevi
n is.”
“Well, we’ll have to work extra hard to make sure Ariana doesn’t want to leave except to go visit Kevin.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll do my best, I promise.”
“Who is Hoppy Jean?”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“From momma and Aunt Emily. They said that Jean was going to be the death of you one day.”
“They were joking, Sweetpea. The Hoppy Gene isn’t a person. It just means that I act like someone named Hopalong Cassidy. If I said you had a Potter Gene in you I would mean you might act like Harry Potter, that’s all.”
“The wizard at Hogwarts?”
“That’s the one.”
“I’d rather have the Swift Jean. I want to be like Taylor Swift.”
“Who?”
“You don’t know who Taylor Swift is?”
“Sorry. I knew of a Jonathan Swift when I was about your age.”
“Where’s your phone?” she said in a tone that was all too familiar. She was about to set me straight.
“I don’t have it with me.”
She rolled her eyes at me. I wasn’t ready for that from my darling little girl, so after we saddled up, we rode back to the house in silence. Well, I didn’t say anything; Katie was another story. She was a kid that had to talk as much as she had to breathe. That is, until a jackrabbit shot out from its cover in a clump of cactus and startled our horses and her. She got the hiccups from the scare and remained silent for the ride back, while I told her the Indian story of how the jackrabbit got such long ears. The constant “hic” every few yards was easier on my ears and held her comments on my telling of the legend to a minimum. I decided I’d save the tried and true cure for her hiccups until we got back to the barn, unsaddle the horses, and she had both feet firmly planted on the ground.
After we put the horses up and I’d cured Katie of her hiccups we came inside. Katie was outdone and wanted nothing to do with me. I had my head stuck in the refrigerator retrieving a longneck when Shane called me. My phone was in the charger, but I knew his ringtone. The melodic voice of Jimmie Dale Gilmore was telling me to hear that lonesome whippoorwill.
“Hey, Shane. What are you up to?”
“There’s a problem out here. That dude, Jonas Fiebrich, called Hannah and wanted to see the cistern. She told him he’d have to contact you for permission, but he didn’t want to listen to her. He said he had the authority to inspect the site with or without your permission and he was going to do it today. I took a ride out here just in case. I tried to call you.”
“Where is he now? I’ll talk to him”
“Well, that’s the problem. He got a little bent out of shape when I told him he was trespassing. I know you don’t want anybody out here.”
I had a bad feeling about this.
“And?”
“He hogtied in the bed of my truck. What do you want me to do with him?”
“Nothing for now, except keep him in the shade. I’m on the way.”
“You want me to let him go?”
“No, I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Consider it a teachable moment for him.”
I called Sam Hallinan as I drove out to the Pape Ranch and told him he needed to get in front of this with the State Attorney General. It bothered the hell out of me that a weasel bureaucrat at some Commission could come on a man’s land without permission. Especially after the previous governor’s government thugs had installed a regulator on my water well.
“Hell, all he had to do was ask me. I’d have shown him the cistern myself. You know what it was, don’t you? He wanted to make time with Hannah McCoy-that’s why he went around me.”
“Alright, Max, I’ll call Jack Fuller and see if I can smooth this over.”
“Smooth what over? I want that little snotnose kid fired. There’s nothing I hate worse than a government official that uses his office to throw he weight around,” I said angrily and hung up. The best defense is a strong offense and I wanted to put this all on Fiebrich, not Shane.
Shane was sitting on the tailgate texting someone when I drove up. He hopped down and gave me a slight grin and nodded at the man lying in the truck bed.
“Mr. Howard, it’s me, Jonas Fiebrich, from the Historical Commission,” I heard Fiebrich say from the truck. “You remember me, right? I came out to see the Spanish cistern.”
I inspected the knot in the rope around his ankles. I nodded my approval to Shane at his knot tying skills. He must have done some calf roping at one time.
“The way I heard it, Mr. Fiebrich, you called my associate and wanted to see the cistern whether you had my permission or not.”
“And asked her out to lunch,” Shane interjected.
“No, no. That was a misunderstanding. Look, I tried calling you.”
“That a fact?” I said. He probably had while my phone was charging and I was out with Katie. “You might have dialed my number, but I don’t remember us talking to one another. The way I see it, you decided to come on out anyway and ignored the sign on the gate and the other posted signs along the road. This ranch is posted with the County for a reason, young man.”
“I didn’t see them, I swear. I’m here in an official capacity for the State of Texas. If you untie me, I won’t press charges, okay.”
“Feel free to press away,” I said and took out my phone and called 911 to report a citizen arrest for trespassing on posted private property.
While we waited on someone from the Sheriff’s Department to arrive, I untied Fiebrich, and then called Sam back and told him that I’d called the cops on Fiebrich and that I wanted to register a protest with the SAG’s Office. “Be sure to remind Fuller how much the Howard Foundation contributed to his campaign.”
“Oh, I did. He thanks you and says he looks forward to seeing you again.”
“That’s political-speak for he looks forward to another contribution. Make sure he understands that it will depend on what he does about Fiebrich.”
“If I were you, I’d let it go, as a gesture of good will. Show Fuller you want to cooperate with the Historical Commission.”
“You’re probably right. The kid just got my dander up. I’ll talk to you later.”
I didn’t see the point in giving Fiebrich a heads-up that my attorney had talked to the State Attorney General about him so I had walked away from him after I made the 911 call. He’d find out soon enough anyway. When I finished the call to Sam, I walked back over to the truck.
“If you want to see the site again, call me and ask me. Otherwise you could get shot out here in the brush by someone mistaking you for a deer,” I said and untied him.
Fiebrich snickered at me. That didn’t sit well with Shane any more than it did me.
“Deer don’t drive state vehicles.” Fiebrich said.
“You need to stay here until the Sheriff arrives. Come on, let’s go inside out of the heat,” I said to Shane. I didn’t expect that Fiebrich would stay and face the music. Once inside the ranch house, Shane and I stood together at a window and watched Fiebrich decide what to do. After a couple of minutes he climbed into his vehicle and drove away.
“Am I in trouble?”
“Did you tell him your name?”
“No. He didn’t give me the chance before he got all pissy.”
“I’ll take the heat for this with pleasure. I’ll keep you out of it. He’s one of those dumb state employees who think that authority over others comes from a state ID card and that he can trespass on a man’s land out here in the county and it’s no big deal. Solms County is a long way from Austin. I think he understands that now. You did good in my estimation, Shane.”
“Thanks. Okay if I leave? I’ve gotta get to San Antonio for five.”
“Big date with Hannah?”
“I wish. She was feeling a little low earlier. She’s probably coming down with a cold. I told her I’d stop by Walgreens for her.”
I waited until a uniformed deputy arrived and then I told him what had ha
ppened. I gave him Fiebrich’s name and explained he’d run off after I called 911. I knew the Deputy so we jawed awhile before he had to get back out on patrol.
After he left, I closed the lock shut on the chain at the gate. Normally, we just hooked the open lock through the chain to hold it in place, but it was getting so no one respected a closed gate anymore. People just didn’t seem to care about what a closed gate might imply or a “Posted No Trespassing” sign might mean. Americans had quit thinking for themselves or their intelligence had been altered by too much time on their phones.
That night the rains came and didn’t stop the next day or the day after that. The Texas Hill Country was like that.
Chapter 22
Three days after the Fiebrich incident, Shane and I were standing under a tarp that covered the cistern. It was still raining, but it had slacked off enough for us to come out in the weather and check the cistern. Hannah was home and sick with the flu that had ravaged Bexar and Solms County the past few months, as well as the rest of the United States. She had been concerned about the seepage of rainwater into the cavern since we had drilled through the floor of the cistern.
“I think the plug will hold,” Shane said.
“Better get a picture of it so she doesn’t worry about it.”
We had hiked down to the cistern and left the truck parked above us on the rim of the arroyo. It was just too muddy and slick to get the truck down into the arroyo without doing damage to the terrain and getting stuck on the floor. There was already several inches of water making its way down the floor of the arroyo to the Guadalupe River not far away. We were headed back toward the drainage area near the river where the slope was less steep when we heard the rumble beneath us.
“We gotta move, Max,” Shane said.
He didn’t need to tell me we shouldn’t have been in that arroyo to begin with after so much rain. It was rainwater runoff seeking a way to the Guadalupe River that had created the gouges in the landscape in the first place. We were on the way up the slope when we heard the explosion. We didn’t stop to scratch our head about what it was. We needed elevation and solid ground under our feet.
The Turbulence of Butterflies (Max Howard Series Book 6) Page 29