A Ton of Gold (Crystal Moore Suspense Book 1)

by James R. Callan

  The intensity of the sound lessened some, but was still loud enough to wake those only recently dead. Mixed in with the music, Mark could barely hear the second man’s voice. Again, Mark commanded the computer to lower the volume. Now, he could make out some of the words. “Joe, where ... hell ... what ... shoot ... quit screwing ... damn tired ... leave ... ass ... minute.”

  If we have Joe, that’s Al out there yelling. Just then, Mark saw him. He was about to go around the corner of the house. “Rod, get me another lariat from the garage. I’ll try to keep track of Al. Meet you back here.”

  Without a word, Rod slipped off toward the garage. “Unlock garage door. Lights off, music off,” Mark commanded. The complete quiet, coming so quickly after the ear-piercing noise, shocked the senses. As darkness crashed over them, a noise erupted from the corner of the house. In spite of the danger, Mark had to grin. Apparently, Al had tripped and fallen in the garden. With the music off, the stream of curses coming from the area of rosebushes echoed across the yard.

  Knowing where Al was, Mark sneaked out from behind the pyracantha bush and started across the yard to find a better position from which to track his quarry. He knew his yard well and could move around it without benefit of light.

  A gunshot fractured the quiet. Instinctively, Mark dropped to the ground. He lay there, trying to listen over his pounding heart and rapid breathing. His first thought was that Crystal had a gun. But he told her to hit Joe, not shoot him. The gunshot reverberated around the yard, making it impossible to tell exactly where it had originated. Mark believed it had come from the general direction of the rose garden, where Al was. His mind skidded to a halt. Was it from that direction, or is that just where I want it to come from? Actually, I’d rather it came from some policeman arriving on the scene. No, it came from Al. Was that a deliberate shot at me? An accidental shot, perhaps caused by Al’s tangle with the rosebushes? Mark thought for a moment. It couldn’t have been aimed at Rod; the house is between Al and Rod now. Crystal is too far in the woods to be visible from where Al is, even in daylight. Unless she’s moved in closer. Still, it’s pitch dark. He couldn’t possibly see her. It was either directed at me, or just a warning shot, telling me not to get too close.

  Mark closed his eyes, trying to shut out all sensory perception except his hearing. Al was silent. Like a rat in a maze, he’s learning. Not giving his position away, and now he’s got me down on the ground with no cover. I can’t turn the lights on to see where he is, because he just might be sitting over there looking my way. If he’s quiet, he’ll hear me when I move. If I turn the music up, I can’t hear him. I’m losing my advantage. And he still has his: the gun.

  For several minutes, both hunters were like two killer submarines lying silent, each waiting for the other to move, to make a noise, to make a mistake. Then a thought popped into Mark’s mind. “Shannon. Zone seven on.”

  Instantly, Mark realized his mistake. “Cancel that. Cancel zone seven.” Again, his heart pounded rapidly. That was stupid. This is no time for mistakes. He took a deep breath and started slowly. “Zone eight, on.”

  It took several seconds for the sprinklers to pop up and start spraying water over the garden area. It took only one more second for the yelling and invectives to start. While Al swore, Mark jumped up and ran to the shelter of some forsythia bushes. He had just settled there when he heard the unmistakable sound of a tire being punctured. And then another.

  Al undoubtedly heard it also, for another pistol shot rattled the night air. “Somebody mess with my car, somebody gets dead. Joe, where the goddamn hell are you? I’m really getting pissed and when that happens somebody pays.” He fired another shot. Glass shattered.

  Mark commanded the computer to shut the sprinklers off. Now that he knew Al’s location, there was nothing to be gained by having him spray bullets around the yard.

  Chapter 48

  CRYSTAL heard the shots and a shiver ran through her. She had no doubt these men were capable of murder. She believed one of them had killed Bessie, a seventy-year-old woman who lived on popcorn. They had shown no compunction about shooting a woman sitting peacefully in a rowboat, not threatening anyone. And Crystal remembered one of the men tramping through the underbrush, looking for her, intending to kill her. Even in the darkness, Crystal was certain the man who shot her now sat tied to a tree just a few feet away, his life on the other side of her trigger finger.

  Now, she could hear Al yelling, although she could not make out what he was saying. She did catch one word: Joe. Was Al calling for help? Had he captured Mark or Rod?

  Behind her she heard Joe making noise. She turned and stared into the darkness. The moon provided little light and under the trees, not even that got through. But after so much time in the darkness, her eyes were able to distinguish shapes. She moved closer to her prisoner. With some distaste and apprehension, she put her hand on the gag. He jerked his head, as if he might scare her off with such a ferocious move. The rag was still firmly in Joe’s mouth, but he had managed to chew on it some. The sounds were muted and unintelligible. Nonetheless, he was able to make noise.

  That’s all I need. Have him make enough noise so Al finds us. She moved to the right. He turned his head to follow her. She pointed the gun at his face. “You can see well enough to know I’ve got a gun and right now it’s pointed at your head,” she hissed. “Stop the noise or I’m going to shoot you.” Even to herself, it didn’t sound very convincing.

  He tilted his head to one side and then to the other, making several sounds.

  Crystal imagined he was smirking. Her mouth fell open. She had the distinct impression he was mocking her. He might even have been laughing, although with the gag, it was impossible to tell. “Are you saying I won’t shoot you?” she whispered.

  He nodded yes and started making noises again, now louder.

  She looked at the gun and then at Joe, her anger rising. “You’re right; I won’t.” She looked at the gun again and lowered it, until it was just level with Joe’s left temple. She hit him with the barrel. His head jerked back. Somehow, that startled Crystal. She decided the movement was not so much from the blow, but from surprise that she had actually hit him with the gun.

  “I’m not sure how hard to hit you. So you can help me. You keep making noises and I’ll hit you a bit harder each time. You stop making noises when I’m hitting hard enough. Okay? Shall we start? You make a noise and I’ll hit you harder.”

  Joe stuck his chin out in a defiant move and made a noise, a little louder than before.

  Crystal looked at him. “Okay, if you say so.” And she hit him in the temple again, harder than before. “Was that better?” She raised the gun and waited. Even in the darkness, she could see Joe blink his eyes and stare at the shadow that was his jailer. He did not make any more noise.

  Her thoughts flashed back to the gunshots. Neither Mark nor Rod had a gun. She was willing to bet Al wasn’t shooting at deer or armadillos, which meant he was shooting at her friendsher unarmed friends. She was the only one on her side who had a gun and she was sitting over in the woods like a wallflower at a dance. Rod had tied Joe to a tree. She wasn’t really needed here. Maybe she could take the gun to Mark and even the odds a little.

  She moved around behind Joe, hoping he wouldn’t notice she was gone and start making noise again. Slowly she crept away, one hand in front of her to avoid running into trees. Her other hand held the gun aimed straight ahead, her finger on the trigger. This is ridiculous. I don’t think I could fire this gun even if Al jumped up in front of me. She stuck the pistol in the back pocket of her jeans. Only a few paces in front of her, she spotted an area not quite as dark as where she was. She had reached the yard.

  #

  Behind the forsythia bushes, Mark listened. Al had stopped yelling. The only sounds now were the cicadas, enjoying the summer evening. The water had heightened the smell of the grass, still warm from the day’s hot sun. The moon, a tiny rip in the black curtain of sky, masked the dan
ger.

  For a brief moment, Mark was seduced into marveling at the beauty of the night. Then, underneath the nighttime noises, Mark detected another vibration. It took a second to decipher. Then it hit him. Someone was walking on dry grass. The steps were tentative, cautious, one foot placed down, a hesitation, then another, great care being taken not to give away location. Mark turned his head to the right, then the left, trying to pinpoint the intruder. Finally, he was sure. The footsteps were near the car. Al was moving back to guard his car, his escape route. Mark positioned himself carefully on the opposite side of the bushes from the car, then spoke into the phone, “Lights on.”

  He peeked through the bushes just in time to see someone disappear behind the pyracantha bushes. Mark’s heart rose in his chest. It looked like Rod!

  “Don’t do nothing sudden like or I’m blowing a hole in you.” The voice was cold and menacing. “Get up and keep your hands where I see ‘em. Got nine millimeters lined up on you. Something happens I don’t like, I pop a cap.”

  Chapter 49

  MARK froze. His breathing stopped but his heart raced, hammering savagely on his ribs.

  “Get up, asshole. Now!”

  With an effort, Mark slowly stood up. He heard Al step closer, then suddenly the blast from the gun swept over Mark. The shock wave bent him over. The sound so enveloped him he couldn’t tell if he had been hit.

  “That’s so’s you know I ain’t screwing around. Next one’ll be right in your skull. Turn around, real slow like.”

  Mark took an inventory of his body. His ears ached from the concussion of the blast, but he had not been hit. With care, he turned to face Al.

  The gunman had taken a few steps back and stood with his feet wide apart. A dark, nine-millimeter pistol pointed directly at Mark’s chest. But the man seemed to be looking beyond Mark.

  “You. Veeerrry slowly move your ass up by your loser friend here. Don’t try nothing stupid or I’ll do both yous.”

  #

  Crystal had no trouble moving slowly; she felt paralyzed and barely able to budge at all. Like walking through deep water, she inched herself over beside Mark.

  “I’ll be damned. Joe told me he’d done killed you, that lying sack of shit for brains. Now, can’t find him.” Al looked at Mark and tilted his head to one side. “You off him?”

  “No.”

  “Then where the hell is he?”

  Crystal’s body shook and she thought she might start crying at any moment. She stole a glance at Mark. Why does he seem so calm, she wondered, irritated that she was shaking and he didn’t appear to be concerned. Maybe this is no different from riding bulls. They’re mean and violent and can kill you. One false move could be fatal. Every second is dangerous. Just like now. But she hadn’t ridden bulls, or done anything hazardous in her whole life. The most dangerous thing she’d ever done was say no to a man who had never heard that word.

  An image of Dr. Krupe forced its way into Crystal’s mind. He was dumping her research into the trashcan, all the time sneering at her. The mental picture persisted, but then an image of Nana flashed through her brain, then one of Bessie, then Eddie Ray, and her eyes refocused on Al and the large pistol aimed at her and Mark.

  And Lester Krupe was not important. His image slowly evaporated.

  “I asked you a question.” Al aimed his pistol more carefully at Mark’s forehead.

  “Ah, two of my friends captured Joe and are taking him to the police station, as we speak.”

  Al let out a howl of laughter. “As we speak. Ain’t that a hoot.” He turned deadly serious. “You think I oughta worry about fuzz coming, you’re dumber’n Joe. You’re the one what’s got a worry on that. First sign I see of cops, you gets a new hole in your head. And I don’t miss.”

  He turned his attention to Crystal. “That piss ant shot at you. If I shot, you be dead. Now, ‘fore I spill your brains on the grass, where’s the gold hid?”

  Crystal didn’t know what to say. Panic gripped her so tightly she could hardly breathe. In her mind she heard Nana saying, When in doubt, tell the truth. “Ah, I, ah, don’t think, ah, there is any gold.”

  With horror, Crystal saw the muzzle flash. She felt the shock wave brush her ear. A desperate gasp escaped her lips as she ducked her head and put her hands over her ears.

  “That’s to straighten out your thinking, bitch. Try again. Where’s the gold?”

  Crystal realized she had not been shot, but she couldn’t stop her knees from shaking. She looked toward Al, but she could only see the gun, still pointed at her, looking three times as big as before. Al had disappeared and only the gun remained. The gun was yelling at her. She tried to think what to say, but her mind wouldn’t function. Her gaze was riveted on the black hole of the muzzle, growing larger and larger, while her mind replayed the flash of fire, leaping out toward her. She willed the shaking to stop, but it continued as she felt herself drawn into the black abyss of the gun. Ideas darted around in her head all mixed together, but nothing came out her mouth.

  Mark answered for her. “According to the legends, it was pushed off a cliff and into the lake.”

  The pistol shifted toward Mark. “Don’t con me. Been there. Ain’t no cliff.”

  “Not today. But there was up until about fifty years ago. Apparently, over the years it has sloughed off and it’s now just a steep embankment. If we go out there, I could show you where the cliff used to be.”

  Crystal watched Al think that over. The nose of the pistol lowered a fraction of an inch. His eyes, so close together he looked like a cartoon character, were squeezed half shut as if that helped him think. Any delay is good, Crystal thought.

  “Seen that hill coming down to the water. That where the cliff was?”

  “Yes. But I can show you more accurately when we get there.”

  Al laughed. “Yous two ain’t going nowhere. Big Man told me to find out what you knows and leave you here—dead.” Al cackled. “Done the first part. Now I pop yous and boogie.” Al raised the gun barrel slightly.

  “Wait!”

  This time, Crystal could hear fear in Mark’s voice and it sent a new chill down her back. The scar on his cheek seemed much redder than she remembered it.

  “The gold isn’t in the water now,” Mark said.

  Al squinted and wrinkled his forehead. He narrowed his beady eyes again. “Whatcha mean?” He tilted his head to the side. “You already snatched it?”

  “No, we haven’t taken it. But when the cliff sloughed off—fell into the lake—it covered up the gold. I’ve run some simulations on that and I think I know exactly where the gold is right now.”

  “What’s similations?”

  Mark corrected people’s grammar and diction all the time, and for an instant, Crystal wondered if he would correct the gunman.

  “That’s when the computer analyzes all the data and then recreates what happened.”

  Al looked puzzled. “Cliff falls in the lake again?”

  “Not actually. But the computer figures out exactly how it happened and shows us what the results would be.”

  Al seemed to be studying this new information. Suddenly, the gun hand straightened. “Big Man don’t like computers. Says they screws things up, makes it harder for him to do his thing.”

  Without thinking, Crystal blurted out, “But it was the computer that found the gold in the lake for him.” Drops of sweat had formed under her arms and now were beginning to run down her side. She was so tense that breathing seemed to demand a conscious effort.

  She was vaguely aware of a slight pressure on her right hip. Then slowly, like a Polaroid picture developing, an image began to materialize in her mind—that of the gun in her back pocket. Could she move a hand around to it without Al noticing? Trying to show no change of expression or body position, she gradually began to drop her right arm. She didn’t know how much time they had before Al did ... something terrible. She refused to let her mind form anything more specific on what Al might do. But any sudden m
ovement would surely draw his attention. Quarter inch by quarter inch, she eased her arm down.

  Once more, her mind was bringing an idea into focus. This time, it was a question. What will you do when you get the gun in your hand?

  Her arm stopped moving. Would she shoot him? Could she shoot him before he fired first? One side of her brain was saying, if you wait for him to shoot first, you or Mark will be dead. Or both of you. The other side argued that she couldn’t just shoot him. But it’s clearly self-defense. It’s still killing a person. And doing nothing will kill two people, the argument in her brain continued.

  Crystal wasn’t sure whether she could pull the trigger or not, but she knew she needed the gun in her hand by the time she made up her mind. Her arm began to move, slower than bread rising.

  Al’s eyes refocused on Crystal. “Naw. He said leave you dead. I bring you, he gets down on me. Don’t nobody cross Big Man.” He leered at Crystal. “Up to me, I take your ass home. I got beer, a little coke. We get it on.” He paused, a lecherous smile forming as he savored the idea. Then, it was gone. “Shit. Big Man said leave you dead.”

  Crystal was shaking again. “He wouldn’t have to know.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I wouldn’t tell. He wouldn’t find out.”

  “Damn. Sounds good. Bet you’s hot as my pistol.” He snickered, then shook his head. “Naw. You ain’t that good. Big Man’d shoot my ass off.”

  Mark’s hands had been at his side and he gradually moved them up a little. Al saw the movement. “Get them hands over your head.”

  Crystal looked at Mark. He seemed to be trying to tell her something, to convey a message with his eyes, but she couldn’t make it out. He glanced at the phone in his hand, then back at Crystal. In that instant, she knew what he was going to do. She murmured softly, “I go right.”

  “What’d you say, bitch?” And to Mark, “I told you, get them hands over your head.”

  Mark nodded slightly. As he moved his hands up, he looked at Al and said, “Before you shoot our ...” And just a little louder, as the phone passed opposite his mouth, “...lights out ...”