by Scott Cook
I held up Scott’s KA-bar. He often kept it strapped to his calf when he was wearing pants and had handed it to me after tying up Tanner. I walked over to Pak and put the point of the blade up against his Adam’s apple.
“Jesus Christ, Lisa… calm down,” Sharon admonished. “I am a police officer, you know…”
“Then fuckin’ arrest me,” I said, pressing just a little. “Because I don’t know if I can stop myself, Sharon.”
Pak was shaking. I could feel it being transmitted through the knife and I could see it, he was shivering that much. His eyes were wide and starting to fill with tears.
“Come on… I just took a jar…” he pleaded.
“You pointed a gun at my man and pulled the trigger,” I needled. “You didn’t know it was filled with blanks.”
“Yes I did!” Pak tried to lie. “I checked the magazine while we walked out here! I just played along to try and get on Donniker’s good side and help Jarvis out, I— “
“Shut your lying hole!” I barked, moving the knife so that the sharp edge rested under his left ear and against his carotid artery.
“Lisa,” A deep calm voice said almost in my ear. It was a good thing I was mad or I might have flinched and killed the archeologist. “It’s over. Let him go.”
Scott was there at my side. When I looked up at him, his face was serious but his eyes, seeming brighter than their usual sea-blue, were not filled with anger. I lowered the knife and stepped back.
“Did you learn anything?” I asked, handing him back the knife.
He nodded. He poured what was left from the gallon jug he held over the fire, extinguishing it.
“Hey!” Diesel exclaimed. “We need that out here, man!”
“I know,” Scott explained. “Without fire, the creeping, hungry foul things of the night will have no reason not to come and check you guys out. Not a very pleasant position to be in. Maybe if you’re resourceful, you’ll get yourselves free before the big boys come a sniffin’. Oh, and by the way… in the unlikely and slim chance that any of you survive… let me make it perfectly clear that if I ever see any of you again, I’ll kill you and leave you where I find you. Am I making myself clear?”
None of them answered. Scott snorted and walked over to my SUV, “Let’s shove off, girls.”
“Jesus Christ, Lisa!” Sharon said as we headed back for the highway. “I’ve never seen you like that… it was a little unnerving.”
I shrugged, “Sorry…”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m turned on,” Sharon added.
Scott chuckled from the back seat, “Sharon, get ahold of C.J. Wright and tell him where to find these dorks. Hopefully he’ll get to them before the gators, pythons or panthers. Not that I care much one way or another.”
“What’d you find out?” I asked after Sharon made the call and we got to Scott’s Jeep.
He sighed, “I know a lot more than I did this morning… but all it does is lead to more mysteries. I’ll tell you about it over a drink at the hotel. The basics are these, though… Rick is gone. They were holding him at his fishing cabin. Sometime during last night or early this morning, he managed to escape. Donniker doesn’t know the name of the man who hired him. Makes sense, I guess. But he said the man was in his late sixties, although seemed pretty spry and maybe younger. About five-foot nine, two hundred pounds. Light blue eyes. I’ve got photos of Donniker on my monocular and I’ll let you have them, Sharon, for NGI. I’ll also send them to ICE and see if Richard Kelly’s intel team can dig anything up. I am… tired.”
We left him and got back onto the highway. Sharon got a text from Juan that said he was already headed down to spend the night and would meet us back at Sanibel Island Beach Resort just about the time we got there.
Incredible as it may seem, there were still one or two more revelations to come before bedtime.
32
I wasn’t on the road five minutes when my phone rang. My car announced that it was Wayne. It being relatively late in the evening, I suspected this was more than just a social call.
“What’s up, Jax?” I asked after accepting.
“How’s your vacation going, Rambo?”
“Oh, just lovely… what’s up with you? Keisha giving you a five-minute break?”
He laughed, “I wish, homey. I’m working tonight. I’ve got… some news for you. Not sure if you’re gonna like it, though.”
“Wayne, the way my day’s going, I’d be surprised if it wasn’t bad news,” I said wearily.
“It’s about Big Daddy.”
I sighed, “Don’t tell me he’s still alive and he and his wife are plotting their vengeance.”
He made a dismissive noise, “Nope… he’s still cold. We’re holding Shantel on conspiracy to commit quite a few things. A good lawyer will probably get her off most of it, though… no, this is about Miko Takanawa.”
“What about her?”
A telling pause, “Scott… she’s… gone.”
“Gone?” I asked in bewilderment. “Like… she died?”
“No… I mean she’s ghosted. And when we ran her through NGI, we got a big fat zero. Sent her photo to the Japanese embassy and they can’t I.D. her either. No record of any kind of visa being issued or anything. On top of that, there was never any report filed by anybody in Japan about a missing student. Not only has she ghosted… but she’s a ghost herself. Fuckin’ weird, man.”
“What the Christ…?” I murmured in confusion.
“There’s more… I did what you asked. I opened up the Elizabeth Nolen case file,” Wayne said. “It’s like Sharon said, Almost no suspects and no resolution. The investigating detective at the time, Harry O’Malley himself, cited that while George Nolen was suspected, he couldn’t be found and it couldn’t be confirmed that he was anywhere near Orlando at the time.”
“Okay… we already knew that.”
Wayne chuckled humorlessly, “Yeah… but dig this… Elizabeth Nolen doesn’t exist prior to 1982.”
“Huh?”
“Dude… her social security number, driver’s license, all that shit was issued in the spring of that year. O’Malley did some digging and discovered that Liz Nolen had been placed in witness relocation. She’d received a new identity and even cosmetic surgery. She’s listed here as being five-foot three, about a hundred and fifteen pounds with brown hair and cornflower blue eyes. Age at her death, forty-six. Her picture doesn’t even look much like Sharon, except for the eyes. There’s a photo of her dad and a description, too. Five foot nine, two hundred pounds. Brown hair and brown eyes… but Sharon is a blue-eyed blonde.”
“Okay… well, blonde is a recessive gene, and as you said, the mom was given a new identity and undoubtedly had some work done and maybe colored her hair,” I said.
“Fair enough… but Harry discovered her real identity. Apparently, Elizabeth Nolen was born Susanna Harney in 1954.”
I damn near drove right off the road. I sat behind the wheel in stunned silence for a long time, the distant taillights of the car far ahead of me seeming a million miles away. I think Wayne called out my name three times before I responded.
“Wayne… Susanna Harney is Rick Eagle Feather’s half-sister,” I barely managed to croak. I had to clear my throat. “That means that Sharon’s mother was Rick’s half-sister… and that he’s really her uncle. Half uncle, I guess… but what does all this mean…?”
He chuckled, “You’re asking me? Oh, there’s one more thing… I went by your office earlier. You got a package. I took it with me… not sure why, really… but with everything going on, I figured better safe than sorry.”
“Who’s it from?”
“Don’t know. No return address.”
“Do you have it with you?” I asked, feeling anxious.
He did and I asked him to open it. After a moment of package opening noises, Wayne came back on.
“Hmm… this is weird… first off, there’s this plaque. Wood with a brass plate on it that reads Lady Lucy 1946…
then there’s a note. Want me to read it?”
“Yeah…”
“Not signed… just says: Scott, take care of this. Notice the back… and there are two long numbers.”
“What kind of numbers?”
A pause, “Not sure… seven digits. Seems kind of random. Want me to read them off?”
“Not now… What’s on the back of the plaque?” I asked, intrigued.
“Just a couple of numbers… kind of hard to make out, though… looks like… twenty-six, then a slash I guess… then thirty-seven. Mean anything?”
“Jax… everything in this case means something,” I replied softly. “I just don’t know what… although I kind of have a feeling who sent this. That plaque… does it look like something off a boat?”
He said it did.
“Okay… I’m starting to get a picture, here. Keep that package safe with you, will ya’?”
“Sure, brother… what’s up?”
I scoffed, “Fuckin’ what isn’t up? I’m not sure yet, but I think I’ll be back in town tomorrow. We’ll sit down and go over everything I know and work up a plan. I have a feeling I’ll be back down here soon… and I wouldn’t mind some help.”
Juan had apparently come down from Orlando because he, Sharon and Lisa were already well into their first beer when I walked into our suite. I was handed a brew and drained a third of it before I even sat down.
“Did you eat anything tonight?” Lisa asked me.
“Not yet,” I admitted. “Haven’t had time. Hell… I think the last thing I had was a breakfast sandwich from Dunkies…”
“Well, then it’s fortunate for you that I love ya’,” she said, handing me a bag from Kentucky Fried Chicken. “Not the healthiest choice, but it’s still hot.”
“Gracias, mija,” I said, kissing her. “So what’s the deal, Juan? Couldn’t handle a night alone, huh?”
“Not after hearing my woman went out on a date,” Juan jibed. “Figured I’d better come down and keep an eye on her, hermano.”
I spread out my large taters and gravy, green beans, three piece chicken dinner and box of ten wings on the dinette table and began devouring my feast. My friends laughed.
“Apparently detectiving works up quite an appetite,” Sharon commented.
“Yeah, well we all can’t stop off for stone crabs and shrimp tacos, ya douche,” I managed to retort between mouthfuls.“Some of us gotta work for a livin’.”
Lisa smiled but waited for Sharon to attack, which didn’t take long.
“Hey, dickhead… we met up with a knife-wielding killer and had to put him down,” Sharon quipped.
“Oh, pardon me…” I replied. “All I did was keep your new boyfriend from getting killed by running from three gang bangers… climbing into a stand of mangroves… diving into freezing water to grab one of them… pursue these fiends out into a wild nighttime swamp… almost get killed by the very man I was protecting… oh yeah, and face down no less than five baddies and who knows how many blood-thirsty creatures what prowleth the night. So suck it, bitch.”
Juan and Lisa laughed. Sharon raised her beer and her middle finger, “Exactly… fuckin’ guy can’t stay out of trouble for one night! If it weren’t for all of us watching over you, just what would happen?”
“Hey, don’t blame the victim,” I said through a mouthful of taters.
Sharon laughed, “Scott… I don’t think you’ve ever been a victim.”
I waved that off, “Well… I’ve been shot, bonked on the head, shot, threatened, shot, bonked on the head, drugged, pretend shot, run off the highway, shot at, tasered, drugged, shot at, kicked in the jimmy, shot at, stabbed, nearly drowned, punched and kicked and slapped, kidnapped, sort of beat up, shot, had something sewn into my ass… and generally been mistreated by those who claim to love me.”
“And who’s fault is all that?” Sharon quipped.
I hung my head and everybody broke up. Lisa came over and kissed me and squeezed me.
“Okay, glad everyone’s in such a fine mood, because I have some news,” I said. “Maybe we can compare notes on all this shit.”
“We did get something out of Carver before he died,” Lisa said, pulling out her phone. “I made a note as exactly as I could. As he was dying, we asked him to tell us who hired him… let’s see… he said, ‘No… Len… Harney.’ I have no idea what that means, but…”
“Len Harney?” Juan asked.
I shivered a little, “Hmm… that might be more significant than you know… I’ve got some news… Sharon, I think you’re going to be shocked.”
First I told her about the plaque. When I did, her eyes lit up and she told me that the plaque was what she’d gone to Rick’s house to find. It was important, although she wasn’t sure why. She then told me about Bill Eagle Feather and how his shrimp boat had gone down offshore between Fort Myers and Marco Island one night with him aboard.
Then I told her about what Wayne had found in her mother’s murder case file. How O’Malley had discovered that Elizabeth Nolen had really been Susanna Harney. That Susanna Harney and her twin brother Michael were Lucinda Granger Eagle Feather’s children from a marriage after she and Bill had divorced. She went pale and her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Juan sat beside her on the couch and held her tight. She simply stared off into space, not sure of what to do or say.
“Scott… what does all this mean?” Lisa asked quietly after coming to sit with me at the table. “Who’s Len Harney? That’s not the husband’s name. It was Carson Harney… and is this all tied to the grave robberies, too?”
“I’d have to say so….” I muttered. “Apparently, old Ezekiel Tobias must have been buried with something, or thought to have been buried with something… something that relates to the Meraux gold stash, I’d wager. Then, for some reason, the people who dug him up also thought that his granddaughter Lucinda must have also had some piece of the puzzle… or maybe all of it, if Zeke’s grave was a bust. Then of course… they dig up John Nelson’s grave. That meant whoever did knew it was really supposed to be George Nolen’s… and if that Proust guy was telling the truth, the casket was empty… at least of a body.”
“Then we have two politicians vying to gain some sort of operational control over the Ten G’s,” Lisa said softly. “And they both mentioned Rick Eagle Feather… because….”
“Because he knows where Meraux’s treasure is,” I said reverently. “He must… although maybe he doesn’t actually know the location. Maybe he knows how to find it. That would explain a lot. Because something was in those graves, or supposed to be. Maybe a series of somethings that, when taken together, point the way. Yet if that’s the case, and it must be considering it all together… then there’s somebody out there who knows that Rick knows. Knows that the Harney family was buried with the secret or something. Who could that be, though?”
“My dad,” Sharon said flatly from across the room.
We looked over and she was staring back at me with an odd look on her face.
“But he’s dead,” Lisa said kindly.
Sharon nodded, “But my father was the closest person in the world to Uncle Rick… heh… heh… my uncle by actual blood in truth… he and my dad were like brothers. At least until my dad took off. Then he just seemed to vanish and Uncle Rick was none too pleased about it.”
“Maybe there’s somebody else who knows,” I suggested. “Or who your dad talked to before he died. Maybe your mom’s brother, Michael Harney. Christ… my brain is fried. Information overload. Let’s drop it for now and we’ll pick it up again tomorrow.”
Lisa was astride me, my hands cupping her large firm breasts and her hands holding mine. She ground her hips into me, her head thrown back and her breath coming in ragged gasps between her moans. She leaned back and her body went taught. Her hands seized mine and squeezed as she cried out in a shattering release and collapsed forward onto my chest.
I moved my hands over her shoulders and through her silky brown ha
ir. Then down her back, over her ripe backside and traced the line of her legs all the way to her toes. I never got tired of touching her.
“Oh… God, baby…” She heaved against my chest. “Give me more…”
I rolled us over and began to move in a slow rhythm that allowed her to relax. We moved that way for a time, slow and languorous, her arms and legs loosely wrapped around me.
“I love you…” She breathed into my ear.
“I love you,” I replied, gazing into her eyes.
She giggled softly, “Do you know that you always have this… shit eating grin on your face when we make love?”
“I do?”
She nodded and smiled back, “I love it.”
“I can’t help myself,” I replied, still moving. “You’d smile too if you were in my shoes… if I were wearing shoes…”
I hoisted myself up, placed her feet on my chest and held the back of her thighs while I increased the speed and power of my thrusts. She began to scream with pleasure and once again reached a climax. I wasn’t quite in time, but her convulsions set me off and we collapsed into each other’s arms gasping for breath.
“We’re so lucky…” Lisa whispered into my chest.
I nodded, “Yes, we are.”
“You think we disturbed Sharon and Juan?” Lisa asked mischievously.
“I hope so,” I replied with a chuckle. “Hope we inspired them if nothing else. I think Sharon could use a good romp right about now. Might help take her mind off of all this weirdness.”
“What do you think is really going on?”
I sighed, “I don’t have a clue. We’ve managed to chip away a little of the rust… but we’re still very much in the dark here.”
“What have I told you about mixing your metaphors?” Lisa asked as she began to lightly stroke my side and hip, raising tingly goose flesh under her hand.