A Ton of Gold (Crystal Moore Suspense Book 1)

by James R. Callan

  JT waited a full minute, then eased her car out of the lot and turned west on Lovers Lane. She drove as fast as the cars around her, turned left on Inwood Road and headed for I-35. Her attention was divided between the traffic in front of her and what she could see in her mirrors.

  Without warning, a black car appeared half a block behind her. It was closing fast. Her heart rate shot up and her breathing accelerated.

  Ahead, the signal light turned red and she slammed on her brakes, stopping inches from the car in front of her. The black car was not slowing down. JT braced herself for the crash, her eyes riveted on the rear-view mirror. An instant before it reached her, it whipped into the left turn lane and raced straight across the intersection, narrowly missing two cars, who responded with blaring horns. JT bit her lip. No flames decorated the hood of the reckless car.

  Ten minutes later, she turned onto Interstate 35 heading east. After a mile, she exited at Motor Street, took the service road to Wycliff, crossed under the freeway and entered the parking lot of the Renaissance Hotel.

  She knew she hadn’t been followed; still she sat in her car, motor running, watching cars come and go. Each one that entered the parking lot caused her to catch her breath.

  She was just beginning to relax a bit when a dark car turned in and circled around, stopping, moving forward a little, stopping. As it pulled opposite her, the driver looked right at her, then started up with a jerk and zipped around the end of the row and turned into a parking spot immediately behind JT. The whole episode took less than thirty seconds and left JT shaking. Only when the car was parked, did she realize it was a dark blue car with a white top.

  Finally, she turned off the engine, took her small bag and entered the hotel. Her legs felt shaky and she had to concentrate to walk in a straight line. The car’s air conditioning had been running full blast, but she could feel the sweat running down her cheeks. She stopped to regain some composure before presenting herself at the front desk.

  #

  Crystal entered the door just in time to see JT approaching the elevators. Either I got here faster than I figured, or she took longer than she should have, Crystal thought. She called to JT. The woman stopped but did not turn around. Crystal called again.

  “JT.”

  This time JT apparently recognized Crystal’s voice and turned to see her hurrying across the lobby. Crystal watched JT’s energy evaporating, and was afraid she might collapse.

  “Here, sit on this chair for a moment.” She took the suitcase with one hand and JT’s elbow with the other and guided her to a nearby chair.

  “You’re safe. Luis is safe. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Even as she said it, Crystal realized how stupid that was. Eddie Ray was dead. It would be a long time before JT thought of things as okay. But right now, she needed to hear someone say things would get better. She would have enough problems getting through the next few daysor months.

  Several minutes passed. Quiet conversation drifted toward them from the dimly lit bar across the lobby. In front of them, two well-worn saddles flanked the entrance to the hotel’s restaurant. The tranquil scene belied the events of the day. From the bar, a woman laughed, reminding Crystal of a wind chime tinkling in a light breeze. The thought came to her that she had never heard JT laugh.

  Slowly JT's breathing returned to normal. Some color came back to her face and the trembling in her hands subsided. Crystal knelt on the floor bringing her face level with JT’s. “There’s a public telephone over there.” She opened her purse and dug out a handful of change and placed it in JT’s hand. “Go over and call Luis. Say goodnight to him. Then you’ll know he’s safe, and you will sleep better.”

  Without answering, JT got up and walked over to the phone and placed the call. Crystal sat in the chair. That was easy. Now, what do I say to her about Eddie Ray?

  #

  Neither woman spoke in the elevator. Only after they were in JT’s room with the door closed did JT speak. “You didn’t want me to call Luis from my room.”

  It was a simple statement, but Crystal knew JT was really asking for an explanation, one she had probably already guessed.

  “Maybe I was being a little melodramatic, but these people are dangerous. Caution is the best approach right now. Luis is fine?” She knew the answer, based on JT’s demeanor when she had returned from the phone, but wanted to reinforce the only good aspect of the day.

  “Yes. He and his grandmother baked cookies and he was perfectly happy. He didn’t ask about Eddie Ray.”

  That was her way of asking, Crystal knew.

  “Eddie Ray is dead. I’m so very sorry to have to say that to you. I could tell how you felt about him. And he made it very apparent he was deeply committed to you. He thought the sun rose and set around you.” Crystal thought that sounded a little weak. “That night, when we drove him to pick up your car, he said very clearly his only concern was for you and Luis.”

  Silent tears covered JT’s cheeks. Her whole body drooped as if someone had draped a great lead blanket over her. Her eyes focused on her shoes and she asked without looking up, “How?”

  There was no easy way. “He drowned. The police don’t know exactly how yet, but they are certain he was murdered. They don’t have much to go on. Based on what I’ve told them, Joe and Al, the crooks who got him into this, are the only suspects at present.” That was enough, unless she pressed for details.

  “The ones with fire painted on their car.”

  “Yes.”

  “They were at my house tonight.” She said it as one might say there was a chair in the living room. No emotion, just a fact.

  Crystal’s emotions raged and she fought to appear calm but her rising voice gave away her anxiety. “At your house? Tonight? After I talked to you?”

  “Yes.”

  With Crystal prodding, JT related the events leading up to her arrival at the hotel. Now it was Crystal's turn to look pale.

  She glanced at the small suitcase. “You packed.” The instant as she said it, she regretted it. JT had enough problems tonight without Crystal adding to them.

  “A few things.” Neither her tone nor her look conveyed any feeling of guilt. “I shouldn’t have.”

  Chapter 43

  MARK was in his den paying bills when the phone rang. Tom repeated much of the information he had given to Crystal a few minutes earlier.

  "We've put out an APB on the car. Crystal thinks she can identify one of them as the guy who shot her. But with Eddie Ray dead, we’ll need something else to really nail them. Unless her ID is really strong. And even then, we can’t charge them for the death of the woman in the fire. We’ll need more. Of course, when you know who, it’s easier to collect evidence.” There was a brief pause. “That's about it for now. If we pick them up, then we’ll go from there. Right now, we don’t have much to charge them with, but we’ll think of something. Maybe something in their car, or at their house, will tie them to Eddie Ray or the firebomb.”

  “Crystal thinks JT is in danger,” Mark said.

  “These guys sound crazy. I wouldn’t rule out anything. If I were JT, I’d be worried.”

  “Hmmmm.”

  “Two other things," Tom continued.

  "Yeah?"

  "Call the grandmother . . . the one with the lake. You know her, don’t you?"

  "Eula Moore? Yes, I know her."

  "Call her and tell her to stay out of sight. She's more of a target than JT. I hate to ask Crystal because then I have to emphasize to her how much danger her grandmother is in. I’d call the grandmother myself if she were in my jurisdiction."

  “She’s supposed to be keeping a low profile now.”

  "Yeah, you said that. But Wooden Nickel is not Dallas. If she goes to the store, probably half the town will know it."

  "I'll call her,” Mark said. “She's strong-willed. Don't know how much effect I'll have. Maybe I can get Glothe to call her."

  "Give it a try."

  "Okay. And n
umber two?"

  "You."

  "Me?"

  "You. They've firebombed your office. I know. You're going to tell me that was to destroy data. I doubt it, but okay. I'll buy that if you’ll buy that it was also to send a message. And if they know about IRS, they know about you. Like it or not, you're at risk."

  Mark hung up the phone, consulted a slip of paper from his wallet, then dialed Melva’s number.

  "Eula. How are you?"

  "Good as gold. Or is that the wrong thing to say?"

  Mark laughed. "Maybe not the best choice right now."

  "Why're you calling an old lady instead of a young one?"

  "You're pretty young."

  "Well, you can go right on flattering me. My mind sees me young. But when I walk up the hill from the lake, I know my mind's eye needs glasses. What's going on?"

  Mark told her of Eddie Ray's murder.

  "Glad they've moved over into your neck of the woods. Maybe some of your police boys can corral them. Old Billy Goat can’t.” She paused only a second. “Sorry, Mark. I’m just used to picking on Bill. He’s right as rain and does his best. And he’s a long time friend.” She chuckled. “But if I didn’t give him a hard time, he’d think I was getting senile.”

  "Tom Hawkins, the detective who's investigating the bombing of IRS, thinks they may move back to Wooden Nickel at any time. In fact, we both feel you could be in real danger."

  "Told you that two weeks ago."

  "And you were absolutely right. So now, Hawkins suggests, and I agree, that you should stay out of sight a little longer——until they catch these guys."

  “Did that for you before the funeral. Don't aim to hide anymore."

  "Just a few days—”

  "Too late. Everybody in town knows where to find me. 'Sides, I'm more of a squirrel than a groundhog. I don't hide well."

  "Could you at least be careful?"

  "That's why I'm alive today."

  Chapter 44

  CRYSTAL had been home no more than five minutes when Tom called wanting as much information on Joe and Al as she could provide. Tom and his partner were going to the Longneck to look for the pair of suspects.

  She told them what little she could. Tom wanted more.

  “That’s the best I can do.” She listened. “No, Tom, I’m not giving you the run-around. I only saw one of them up close and Eddie Ray gave me a really poor description of them. That’s all I know. I’m certain I can pick out the one who shot me and I think I’ll recognize the other one. But I can’t describe them any better than I have. I can look at mug shots tomorrow, if you’d like. I ought to go with you tonight.”

  Crystal looked out the window at the new moon while Tom told her what a bad idea that was and recited department policy against a civilian going with them.

  The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She interrupted Tom’s litany. “But it’s not forbidden and it’s not without precedent. The truth of the matter is, if I were a reporter—no connection with any case—I’d probably be allowed to ride in a squad car on a night’s patrol. What’s going to happen? I’ll be between two policemen.”

  Crystal ran a hand through her hair in frustration as Tom again told her it wasn’t a good idea. “ Okay. Enough of the arguing. I’m going to the Longneck Bar tonight. I can go with you and your partner, or I can go alone. Your call.”

  #

  It was after nine when Crystal, Tom and his partner, Dick Donovan, reached the Deep Elum area. Tom drove past the bar and circled the block, then widened his arc to include the blocks on either side. No sign of the fire-breathing car. Across the street from the Longneck, Tom pulled to the curb in a no parking zone. The three got out, crossed the street and entered the bar.

  A strong smell of beer and cigarettes assaulted Crystal. Layers of smoke hung motionless below the dim lights. The Miller Lite neon sign still flickered on and off. It looked and smelled the same as it had two nights earlier.

  Crystal and the two policemen weren’t five feet inside when the noise level lower noticeably. Crystal felt all eyes focus on them as they crossed to the bar. Tom held up his police ID and addressed the bartender while Dick leaned his back on the bar and watched the rest of the room.

  “You work here regularly?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Most of the time?”

  “Yeah.”

  Bud Heavy kept his eyes on Crystal. He remembers me. She turned to study the room, starting with the men standing at the bar. Slowly, she shifted her attention from one man to the next, working her way around the room until she had examined each person.

  One man ran his tongue over his lips and grabbed his crotch. Two men turned away, the only ones not staring at Crystal and her two companions. Crystal scrutinized them. She’d only gotten a quick view before they turned their backs to her. One was short and one was tall. In her mind, she reviewed the brief look she had gotten. She inspected their backs. Finally, she decided they were too old. Joe and Al fell in the twenty-five to thirty-five range.

  Even with Tom and Dick beside her, she felt uneasy. She turned back to follow Tom’s questioning of the bartender.

  “You remember one of your patrons, Eddie Ray Dollar?”

  “No.” Too quick. Clearly, he hadn’t given it any thought.

  “About six two, brown hair, tattoos all over his arms, always wears jeans and ropers.”

  “Don’t remember anybody like that.” The bartender was a large man, probably six-three, two hundred forty pounds. He had both hands on the bar top, his eyes now focused on Tom. He stated his answers in a neutral tone.

  “How about Joe and Al?”

  “Don’t know them either.”

  Tom smiled at the man. “You don’t know anybody named Joe or Al? Surprising.”

  “Hey, Bud Heavy,” Crystal said. “When my friend and I were in here the other night, you said you knew them. Said they were up in Denton that day.”

  Tom’s head jerked toward Crystal, but he said nothing.

  The barkeep slowly turned his attention to Crystal. “Don’t remember you ever being in here. And I for damn sure didn’t tell you nothing about nobody I don’t know.”

  “You said they’d be back the next day.” Crystal struggled to keep her voice from quavering. The other night, Bud Heavy had been trying to make a move on Brandi, and he had been non-threatening. Tonight, Crystal found him sinister, dangerous and he seemed even bigger than before. Tonight, he scared her. And she could feel his hate for Tom … and for her.

  “Don’t know nothing about that. Never seen you before.”

  “Do you own this dump?” Tom asked.

  “No.”

  “So you don’t give a damn if we shut the place down?”

  “Not a rat’s ass.”

  “Well, I’ll bet Mr. Manachii does. And I’ll bet he thinks you should too.”

  The bartender pressed his lips together. “Ah, now I think on it, I seen a guy in here all tattooed. Don’t know his name. Ain’t been in the last few nights.”

  “And they call you Bud Heavy?”

  “Just Bud.”

  “Okay, Bud. Did Eddie Ray talk about knowing where some lost gold was?”

  Bud glanced at the men standing at the bar, then back at the detective. He lowered his voice. “Maybe one time. He was sloshed and talked crazy stuff ‘bout some gold lost for a hundred years. I was busy. Didn’t catch much. Nobody paid him no mind. Like I said, he was drunk.”

  “Now, Bud, think this out before answering. He was talking to Joe and Al. Do you remember them now?”

  For the first time, the barkeep moved his hands. His oversized right hand rubbed his chin and mouth. Crystal could see that Bud was struggling with what to say.

  “He was mouthing off to a bunch of guys. Don’t know who. And I don’t know no Joe or Al. He coulda been talking to some guys named that.” He shrugged.

  Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out a card and put it under Bud’s left hand. “Joe or Al h
ere tonight?”

  Without looking, Bud shook his head.

  “I didn’t think so. If you see them, you call me. I need to ask them a few questions. I will find them. And if they tell me you know them, I’m coming back and I’m hauling your ass down to the station.”

  Now Bud’s eyes showed more anger than fear. “Ain’t done nothing and you can’t haul me downtown.”

  “Well, maybe you haven’t. But I’ll take you in while I check that out. And it might take me three or four days to find out whether you have or you haven’t.” Tom smiled at Bud. “You needn’t worry about Mr. Manachii, though. I’ll tell him you’re helping me a lot, giving me lots of good information.”

  Tom fixed a cold look on Bud for several seconds, then turned. “Let’s get out of this maggot heap.”

  #

  In the car, Tom’s displeasure showed. “What the hell was that about you and a friend being at the Longneck? What friend?”

  Crystal had never experienced Tom’s anger before. She tried to sound breezy. “Oh, Brandi and I popped in for a few minutes the other night. See if Al and Joe were there.” She looked puzzled. “Didn’t she ask you about ‘Big Man’? Joe and Al’s boss?”

  “She did. This where she heard about him?”

  “Yes.”

  “She wouldn’t say where she got the name.” He shook his head. “Don’t ever do anything that ... like that again. Aren’t you the woman who said one of them tried to kill you? You should know better. So should Brandi.”

  Her first inclination was to tear into Tom. Who was he to tell her where she could or couldn’t go? But before she opened her mouth, she thought of JT. Crystal had just told JT the same thing. You can’t go home. You will go to your mother’s. She was worried for JT’s safety and Tom was worried about her. And Brandi. She decided a better tactic was to change the subject. “Who’s Manachii?”