Darkness rushed in from every side, blanketing the area in black. Crystal dove to her right. The roar from the nine-millimeter ravaged the night. There were no more crickets, no more cicadas serenading one another. Only the reverberations of the gun blast.
But even as the black cloak enveloped everything, Crystal thought she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Rod. On his bicycle.
Chapter 50
ANOTHER shot shattered the night. Crystal continued rolling to her right, trying to put as much distance between her and the shots as possible, hoping she wasn’t rolling in an arc back to Al. Now she could hear a cacophony of thumps, groans, screams, and other noises she couldn’t identify, all coming from the general direction of where Al had been standing. Grunts and curses filled the void after the echoes of the shot died down and she wondered if Mark had attacked Al. The unmistakable thuds of fists hitting bodies mingled with sharp intakes of breath and involuntary groans.
Crystal had rolled maybe thirty feet away and lay listening to the struggle, wondering if she should get up and run. But her eyes had not yet adjusted to the sudden darkness and she could see absolutely nothing. Al was yelling. Breathing was sounding more labored. And mixed in was an occasional metallic clink.
Then, as suddenly as it had become dark, it became quiet. And out of the quiet, a soft voice said, “Mark, can we have lights, please.”
The lights revealed a strange scene. Rod was sitting on top of Al, who appeared to be unconscious. Underneath Al’s head lay the front wheel of Rod’s bicycle. The nine-millimeter pistol rested no more than three inches from Al’s outstretched left hand.
Crystal was bewildered. Mark, telephone in hand, sat on the ground about fifty feet to her left.
“What on earth happened?” she asked.
Rod gave his shy laugh. “Seemed like you two were in a bit of a pinch, so I thought I’d help out. And since I can’t throw a lariat, I did what I do. I rode my bike. But just as I came around the corner of the house, picking up speed, Mark turned out the lights. I bloody well nearly missed the bugger. But I did graze him enough to knock him down—about the time he fired his second shot. Then it was just a matter of settling him down.”
“You rode your bike into him? Into a criminal shooting a nine millimeter pistol?” Crystal was shaking her head in utter amazement.
“Seemed like the thing to do. I was coming pretty fast. Down low over the bars, I didn’t figure to make much of a target.” Rod laughed. “Of course, since you two were drawing his fire, I guess I didn’t have to worry about that.”
Mark walked over and extended a hand to help Rod to his feet. “I see you got the rope.”
Rod bent over, picked up the pistol and stuck it in his belt as Mark retrieved the rope from the back of the bicycle and began to hog-tie Al.
Rod gripped the butt of the pistol and spread his feet. “What next, trail boss?”
“We call in the cavalry.”
“Amen,” said Crystal.
The two men dragged Al’s body over near the drive and Mark tied him to a tree. He opened the driver-side door of the fire-breathing car, searched a minute, found a newspaper and wadded up a page and stuffed it into Al’s mouth. He handed the phone to Crystal. “Try to raise Tom while Rod and I go get Joe Baby.”
Crystal could hardly believe her luck. Tom actually answered when the operator rang his line. After he got over his surprise and after being assured that the thugs were under control and nobody was hurt, he got angry. “How could Mark do such a stupid thing? I guess I should expect that of a bull rider. But I thought he’d grown up. He could have gotten all three of you killed.”
Only a few minutes earlier, Crystal had been thinking the same thing. Now she found herself defending Mark. “If we had sneaked off and hid in the woods, they would have left. And you and the police haven’t been able to find them. They probably would have attacked Nana again.”
Tom grumbled on a minute more, then asked, “They driving a fire-breathing car?”
“They sure are, and I can tell you in all honesty, I could feel the heat.”
“Dick and I will be right out. It’s time I met Joe and Al. And I want to see this fire-breathing car.”
Mark and Rod were leading Joe, like they might lead a pony. Mark shoved Joe against the car and pulled the gag out of his mouth. Instantly, he began yelling invectives at them.
“Should I try again?” Crystal said to Joe as she pulled the gun out of her back pocket. Immediately, he stopped yelling.
“Wow!” said Mark, looking genuinely impressed. “I should have let you talk to Al. Would have been a lot easier on Rod and me both.”
“Joe and I have come to an understanding.” She smiled, clearly pleased with herself.
Mark turned back to Joe. “Okay. Now we know you two are working for Big Man. What I want to know is: where is he?”
“I ain’t telling you shit-heads nothing.”
“Be best if you helped us before the police get here. And we’ve already called them.” He looked at Crystal and she nodded.
“Ain’t got nothing on me. You mother—-”
Crystal raised the pistol in her hand. Joe stopped in mid-word and looked at her. She smiled at him. “No more nasty language, Joey, or I’m going to try again.”
Joe glared at her, but he continued in a subdued voice. “Turned down the wrong drive, that’s all. Ain’t no crime. And then you mother--, ah, you guys rope me and drug me all around and tries to strangle me and tie me up. And the bitch threatens to shoot me in the head, and pistol-whips me. I’m one’s oughta be calling the fuzz.”
Mark stood in front of Joe, nodding his head through the whole speech. He continued nodding for several seconds after Joe stopped. Joe squirmed and turned his eyes away, focusing on his unconscious cohort.
Crystal’s mind raced through various schemes like an automatic sequencer trying to break a combination. And like the tumblers in a lock, the pieces finally clicked into place.
“Mark, have you got a portable scanner?” she asked.
“Sure. In the office.” He furrowed his brows in question.
“I want to show Joey something I think will change his mind.” She slipped the gun back into her pocket and hurried off, stopping by her car to grab a black case from the back seat.
In the office, she opened the case and put her portable computer on Mark’s desk. A quick search found the scanner. She plugged it into her portable, then flipped on the computer.
Her fingers drummed a steady beat on the desk while she waited for the computer to check its memory. “Come on, come on,” she whispered as it loaded the operating system from the hard disk into memory. In her mind, she already was writing the instructions she would need to pull this off.
The instant the computer was ready, she began pecking on the keyboard, entering commands, occasionally backspacing over a few mistakes, and proceeding on to more commands. “That ought to do the trick,” she said out loud. “Nothing too elaborate.” She quickly checked the code she had just written, nodded in satisfaction. “Maybe a quickie test,” she whispered.
One minute later she picked up the machine and headed out the door.
Mark was still talking to Joe, but Joe’s only response was to shake his head.
Crystal came up to stand directly in front of Joe. “Got something I think you’ll be interested in, Joey. My good friend Tom Hawkins—he’s a detective with the Dallas Police Department—he and I have been looking for you and your buddy Al because we think you killed Eddie Ray Dollar. And since you’ve been so thoughtful as to bring your car here, I think we can prove that right now.”
“Whatcha talking ‘bout? We didn’t do no Eddie Ray. Who the hell’s him?”
“I think you did. You and Al. The police got some good tire tracks out where you dumped him in the lake. Remember White Rock Lake?”
The short thug had refused to look at Crystal, but at the mention of the lake, he abruptly looked her in the face. “Don’t know nothing ‘
bout White Rock.” He took a quick look at Al’s inert form.
“Well, we can find out quickly. Let’s just match the tread on your tires with what the police have for the murderers’ car. Okay? Maybe you didn’t, maybe you did. We can remove all doubt, one way or the other, in just a few moments.”
Joe’s focus jumped from Crystal to Al to Mark, then started around again. Sweat seeped out of the pores in his forehead and ran down his pudgy face. His tongue traced his lips every few seconds.
Crystal opened the micro, then looked at Joe again. “What I’m going to do is this. I’ll scan the tread pattern of your tire.” Joe looked puzzled. “That’s like taking a picture of it with the computer. We’ll be able to see it on the computer screen.” She paused. “Let’s see, it was the right front tire the police gave me. So, I’ll scan your right front tire and then compare it with the one the police got at the murder scene. You can watch and decide if they match. Mark, help Joe over so he can watch.”
Crystal set the portable computer on the car, pressed a few keys, then held the scanner on the tire tread. “Can you see okay, Joe?”
Sweat dripped to the ground as Joe nodded. Slowly, Crystal moved the scanner along the tread of the tire for several inches. As she did, a picture of the tire’s tread materialized on the bottom half of the computer’s screen. When the pattern reached from one side to the other, Crystal stopped.
“Okay. This is the pattern from your tire that you just watched me scan into the computer. See the little nick on the tire right here?” She put her finger on it.
Joe nodded.
“And here it is on the computer’s picture. See it?”
Again, Joe nodded.
“So, this is a good picture of the tread on your tire,” Crystal said.
Joe’s attention was riveted on the computer screen.
“Now, let’s bring up the tread the police retrieved from the crime scene.” Crystal tapped a few keys and a pattern appeared in the top half of the computer’s screen. The words “Murderer’s Car - Eddie Ray Dollar Case” were written above it in boldface letters.
“The top tread pattern is from the murder scene. The bottom one is from your tire. You watched me scan it. Right?”
Joe made a nervous nod.
“Now, Joe, watch this closely, because this will tell us, and the police, if you killed Eddie Ray. Let’s move the top pattern—the murder scene tire track—down and see if it matches the tire tread from your car that you just watched me scan into the computer. If it matches, you and Al murdered Eddie Ray. If it doesn’t, then I guess you didn’t murder him.”
Joe’s eyes never left the computer’s screen. Slowly, Crystal moved the top pattern down until it overlaid the bottom pattern.
“My God,” said Mark.
“No. No,” Joe shouted. “We didn’t off him. You can’t hang it on me.”
Rod was leaning over Mark’s shoulder looking at the computer. “Look at the nick in the tread here. It’s a perfect match. That’s incredible.”
“We didn’t take him out. Big Man done it. He forced us to dump the body. But we didn’t kill him.” Joe was mewling, his eyes filled with sweat and tears.
“We don’t have Big Man.” Mark spat the words out, as cold and hard as he could make them. “We have you. And Al. And your car is the one that was there.”
“He weren’t killed there. He didn’t drowned in no lake. Big Man snuffed him at his house. Then made us drag him out and dump him in a lake. Honest, all I done was carry a dead body and throw it in a lake.” Joe was almost crying now.
Mark just looked at Joe without moving a muscle. Then slowly, he shook his head.
“I’m telling the truth.” Joe was pleading. “The Beard tied Eddie Ray’s hands behind his back. Then Big Man stuck his head in a sink. Then he pulled him up and asked him where the gold was. He said he told him everything he knowd ‘bout the gold. So Big Man pushes Eddie Ray’s face in the water again. When he comes up, he was breathing hard. Big Man wants to know who he brung down to the Longneck. So’s he tells Big Man your name and where you work.”
Crystal’s gasped. Mark didn’t react.
Joe swallowed and seemed to be having trouble breathing. “Big Man gets out of shape and slams Eddie’s face back in the water. Then brings him up and said he better tell him something else. Eddie Ray’s coughing and then he goes, ‘You killed the wrong woman.’”
Crystal bit her lip so hard she could taste her own blood. She covered her mouth with her hand.
Joe cut his eyes toward her, then back to Mark. “Big Man was mad. He shoved Eddie’s face back in the water and held it there. When he pulled it out, Eddie’s choking and gagging. Big Man goes ‘Okay, where’s the brat?’ And he says he ain’t saying. And Big Man looks at him real mean like and says, ‘You know but you ain’t telling?’ And Eddie Ray goes ‘You ain’t getting the kid. No way. No how.’”
Joe looked down at the ground, his breathing labored. “Big Man’s going crazy. I ain’t never seen him so mad. He yells right into his face, ‘You’ll tell me.’ And he slams his face back in the water and holds it there. Eddie Ray tries to get out, but Big Man’s strong and he smashes his face against the bottom of the sink. Just keeps it there. And The Beard holds Eddie Ray’s back down.”
Joe licked his lips and glanced at Crystal, then looked back at Mark. “After while, Eddie Ray don’t struggle no more. Big Man finally yanks his head out and he ain’t coughing or nothing. Big Man pulls his head way back and yells at him again. ‘Where’s the kid? You tell me where that kid is.’ But he’s dead.” Joe looked at Crystal. “I told Big Man it was too long. He shouldn’t keep his head in the water that long.” His voice became a whimper. “All I done was carry the body away. I never killed nobody.”
Mark looked straight into Joe’s eyes for thirty seconds without saying a word or even blinking an eyelash. Joe couldn’t meet his gaze. When Mark finally spoke, it was almost a whisper, but the tone was menacing. “Joe, here’s the way it is. If you don’t tell us where Big Man is in the next minute, I’m turning you and this computer over to the police and you’re going to find yourself on death row, waiting for them to stick the needle in your arm. There’s no other way out for you. You’ll just sit there in your cell all by yourself and wait and wait, until they come for you and then strap you down. You can scream, pray, cry, struggle, whatever. It won’t make any difference. You’ll be tied down on the death table. They’ll stick that needle in you. You can watch them. And then you’re dead. Think about that.”
Joe’s body shook and his head was jerking up and down. “Big Man’s gone out to Wooden Nickel.”
“What?” Crystal screamed. She snatched the gun from her pocket and stuck it against Joe’s fat lips, then forced it into his mouth. Mark put his hand on Crystal’s arm but she shook it off. “Why did he go there, Joe? Don’t give me any crap.” Crystal moved her face to within an inch of Joe’s. “Why did he go to Wooden Nickel? What’s he planning to do there? Tell me or I pull the trigger?”
Joe was shaking all over and his face was wet with sweat and tears. His eyes opened wide with fear as he watched Crystal.
“On three, I’m pulling the trigger. “One.” Mark put his hand on Crystal’s arm again. She ignored it. “Two.”
Joe made a mewling sound and nodded as much as the gun in his mouth would let him. Crystal pulled the gun out of his mouth.
“Oh, shit. I’m dead either way.” He shook and his voice was little more than a child’s voice. Now, he refused to look at either Crystal or Mark. “He’s gonna find that old woman. Said he’d get the gold if he had to cut off her fingers one at a time. He’s gonna kill her.” The last sentence came out as a moan. His head was on his chest now, tears streaming down his face.
Mark grabbed a handful of Joe’s hair and yanked his head up. “When did he leave Dallas to go out there?”
“I don’t know. After we come here.”
Mark’s tone was much quieter now. “Joe, this is important. Becau
se if he kills that woman and you don’t tell us everything you know, I’ll guarantee you get tried as an accessory to that murder also. They’re going to tie you down and jab that needle in you.”
“All I knows is we was ready to bone out and he goes, ‘Soon’s The Beard gets here, we’re gonna go find that bitch and rip it out of her.’ Then we split. I swear, that’s all I know.”
“Who’s The Beard?”
“I don’t know.”
Crystal raised the gun up in front of Joe’s eyes.
Joe stammered, “Some taco with a beard down to his waist. He’s meaner’n Big Man.”
“What’s Big Man’s name?” Mark asked.
Joe frowned and looked at Mark like he was crazy. “Big Man. That’s his name.”
“He doesn’t have another name, maybe a last name?”
“Never heard him called nothing else. Big Man. That’s it.”
Mark just looked at him. Crystal still had the gun pointed at Joe’s face, no more than six inches from his nose.
“I’m trying to help, man. I’m trying. I’m telling all I knows. Beard keeps a piece in his belt behind his beard.” He was crying again. “I’m trying to help. We didn’t off Eddie Ray. Only dumped his body.” Sweat was dripping off the end of Joe’s nose. “I swear.”
“What kind of a car does he drive?”
“White Benzo. Dark windows.” Al groaned and Joe cut his eyes over for a moment. He looked back at Mark. “The Beard drives a ... a ...” He screwed his face up trying to think. “One of them fancy Jeeps. Black. Never washes it. Got a weenie dog thing on the hood.”
Crystal’s hand covered her mouth. The blood had drained from her face and she looked on the verge of fainting. But she held the gun steady, aimed right at Joe’s face.
Mark turned to Rod and handed him the portable phone. “Tom should be here any minute. If he calls, you know what to tell him. Can you keep these two losers until he gets here?”
A Ton of Gold (Crystal Moore Suspense Book 1) Page 25