Eula could see Big Man’s beady eyes scanning the small room, searching for anything that might help him. The Beard’s gun lay on the floor just a few feet away, near one of Melva’s overstuffed chairs. “Trying to figure out how to get over and pick up the gun, all the while staying behind a little old ninety-pound woman? Don’t think you can do it. Not sure you could bend over far enough to pick it up, anyway.”
“Y’all might have a Mexican standoff,” Melva said. “But I got to go to the bathroom.” Raising her right foot, she brought her heel crashing down on Big Man’s instep. He let out a yell. At the same moment, she grasped both her hands together, moved her torso to the left and drove her right elbow into his ample stomach. He gasped as she knocked the wind out of him. Melva grabbed his arm, now loose around her neck, yanked it up and started for the other side of the room.
Eula saw Big Man move toward the gun, but Melva was in the line of fire. Eula couldn’t shoot. She stepped to one side, but as Melva came closer, there was still no room for a shot.
#
Outside, Crystal, Mark and Bill all jumped as the roar of a gunshot came from the front room of the small house. They ducked behind the car. The front windows of the house continued to rattle.
Crystal gaped at Mark, saw that he had heard the same thing she had: a woman’s scream.
Bill drew his revolver, looked at Crystal and Mark, and sighed. “Stay here by the cars.” He eased his head up and studied the house. The door was still closed and the window shades drawn. It was quiet.
“Crystal, pull on the lights in the car. Mark, go pick up the radio in my car and call the dispatcher. Just push the call button. Tell her to get somebody out here quick. And I mean right now. We’ve got a bad situation. And turn on my headlights. Let’s get as much light on the house as we can.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and ran to the corner of the house. He peered around the corner, looking toward the rear of the small frame building for a moment, then turned back toward the front door.
Crystal turned on the car lights and crouched behind the right side of the Chrysler, her heart racing, her breathing spasmodic. Was Nana even in the house? Was Melva there—and still alive? Her mind could not ask that question about Nana. Who screamed? And could Bill handle the situation? A feeling of doom spread over her. Unbidden, images flashed in her mind of her Nana, lying on the floor, covered in blood.
She remembered Al’s gun on the front seat of the car. She ran around, yanked open the car door and grabbed the gun. She was scared and shaking all over, but a fierce determination wiped out any hesitation. Within seconds, she crouched by the edge of the porch, gun clutched in two trembling hands.
Glothe looked back to see Crystal standing at the porch, a gun in her hands. “Good God, Crystal,” he whispered, loud enough for her to hear. She was looking at him but didn’t move. “Wait. Don’t do anything yet. Give me a chance first.”
She nodded slightly.
“This is Sheriff Bill Glothe.” His voice was loud, full and carried a strength of authority that surprised Crystal. “Two of my deputies are here with me. Do not put up a fight. Just come on out with your hands high and leave your weapons on the floor inside the house. You got nowhere to go. We ain’t gonna shoot you if you come out with your hands high above your head.” He paused. “Do it now.”
Crystal listened to Bill, sounding tough, and like he had help. She knew there wasn’t anybody to help. She and Mark were the two deputies. She looked at the gun in her hands. Again, the debate raged in her mind: could she shoot a person? This time, a firm answer emerged. Self-defense was nothing compared to the defense of her Nana. I will shoot.
#
Inside, the reverberations from the gunshot were dying down. Melva finally had dodged out of the way and Eula had swung the shotgun around and pulled the trigger. The large pellets hit the pistol, knocking it away from Big Man’s grasping hand. The overweight thug let out a high-pitched scream.
Eula’s shot hadn’t touched him, but it took him a few seconds to realize he wasn’t hurt. In those seconds, Eula had broken the shotgun open, dumped the empty shells on the floor and was pulling two shells out of her pocket.
Big Man looked around for the gun. When he didn’t see it immediately, he shifted his weight and started to move toward Eula.
Without looking up, she said, “My bet is, you’ll be half a second too late—which in this case, will be a lifetime. Remember old Elmer, Melva? He almost beat the train across the track.”
“Yeah. Never did find all of him.”
Eula snapped the gun closed and leveled it at the thug, all in one motion. He stopped in mid-step, close enough to reach out and touch the end of the shotgun. He looked at the gun, measuring the distance. He looked up at Eula, measuring her resolve. Slowly, he backed up a few feet, his hands instinctively going up over his head.
#
Crystal could hear Mark talking into Bill’s radio, calling again for help. But they needed help now, not in fifteen minutes. Was there anything she could do? She stepped up on the porch, the pistol out in front of her, and began easing slowly toward the front door of Melva’s house. She had to do something.
Bill waved a hand with its index finger extended up. “Give me one more try.”
She nodded once but didn’t back up, didn’t lower the gun.
He took a deep breath. “I got two deputies here and more on the way. So don’t get yourself all shot up for nothing. Put down your weapons and come out with your hands over your head. Do it. Me and my deputies won’t shoot if you got your hands up high.”
“Bill, I’m willing to bet my old corset you ain’t got two deputies with you.”
Crystal gasped. That was Nana, sounding as irascible as ever. Her eyes began to fill with tears.
“But if you got the dogcatcher with you, or two pair of handcuffs, I’ll give you a skunk and a fat toad.”
The door opened and a large man waddled out, hands held high over his head. Right behind him came Eula, prodding him in the back with a double-barreled shotgun. Bill holstered his pistol and took a pair of handcuffs off his belt as he walked over to the huge man.
Big Man lowered his arms and pulled himself up to his full height. “Sheriff, she’s got things ass-backward. We came here to ask a few questions and she shoots my, ah, my associate, and just barely misses me. I want to file a formal complaint against this woman. I want her jailed.”
“Don’t know why I worried about you,” Bill said to Eula. None too gently, he pulled Big Man’s hands behind his back and snapped the steel bracelets shut. “And I’m willing to bet you don’t own a corset.”
By now, Crystal had dropped the gun and had her arms around her grandmother. “I was so scared, Nana. When I heard the shot, I ... .” She buried her face in Eula’s gray hair and tightened her grip around the old woman’s shoulders.
Big Man turned around to face the sheriff. “You got it wrong, here, mister. She’s the one what’s broke the law, shooting people. When my lawyer gets here, he’ll straighten things out and your ass is gonna be in a sling. Tell me what law I’ve broken. The other bitch opened the door when I knocked, and invited us in. Then this old woman comes in blazing away, like some vigilante. I want her in jail. Now. And I want these cuffs off.”
Crystal relaxed her hold on Eula and looked at Bill. “You can charge him with the murder of Eddie Ray Dollar. The Dallas police have a witness in custody right now who saw him kill Eddie Ray.”
That seemed to take the spirit out of the fat criminal. His only response was to grumble and repeat his warning to expect his lawyer.
Bill turned his attention to Eula. “You said two.”
“Other one’s inside,” Eula said to Bill, all the while patting her granddaughter on the arm. “You’ll need an ambulance. And somebody to clean up Melva’s floor. He put a lot of blood down.”
“Was that the shot we heard just before I yelled at you?” Bill asked.
“Naw. I shot him earlier
. Thought he could sneak a gun out. Mistake on his part. What you heard just a minute ago was me moving a pistol out of Fat Man’s reach.”
Bill just shook his head.
Melva appeared at the door, a .32 in her hand.
“Melva,” Bill said. “Would you call the dispatcher and ask her to send an ambulance out. Tell her I’m requesting it. And I’m getting just a little tired of waitin’ and gettin’ no help.”
She nodded and went inside without saying a word.
Another sheriff’s department cruiser pulled up and a deputy got out.
“Guess I better see what damage we got inside.” Glothe looked over at the deputy. “Slim, take this pile of cow manure and put him in the back of your car, and keep an eye on him.” Bill turned back to Eula. “You said you had a fat toad and a skunk. I reckon I’ve seen the fat toad. Let’s go look at your skunk.”
Chapter 54
IT was nearly midnight by the time Eula, Melva, Crystal and Mark got back to Melva’s house. Crystal had not taken her hand off her grandmother all evening. Now, she collapsed in a chair, swiveling it so she wouldn’t see the large blood stain on the floor near the front door.
“Well, I guess it’s all over now,” said Crystal. “Looks like the Mexican killed Bessie, with Roscoe Bigmine, AKA Big Man, aiding. And Bigmine killed Eddie Ray, with the Mexican aiding.”
“Don’t forget burning down my house.” Eula was still going strong. “Should have heard Sam when I phoned him. Woke him up.” Eula giggled. “He was grumbling and I said, ‘Sam, we got Bessie’s murderer, and the man behind it, and a murder in Dallas. And tomorrow, I’ll give you my exclusive story on how I captured them.”
“You captured ‘em?” asked Melva. “Don’t I get any credit?”
“Sure do. But I’ve been meaning to ask. Why’d you take so long to stomp old Fat Man’s foot?”
“Thought I had on tennis shoes. Then I was really needing to go and trying to think what to do, and I remembered I had on these leather shoes.” She stuck her foot up. “They got a good stomping heel. So I let him have it.”
Eula looked at Mark. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Don’t like our Friday night shindigs?”
“No, no. The party was—well, it wasn’t boring. But my ears are still ringing from our encounter with Al. So I guess I’m a little out of it. However, I do have some news. When I talked to Tom while we were at the police station, he told me that when they searched Al’s garage, they found chemicals like those in the firebomb.”
Crystal let out a long breath. “Fantastic. That ties up all the loose ends.”
“Not quite,” Mark said.
Everybody stared at him.
“There’s still the matter of the gold.”
For a minute nobody spoke.
“Which reminds me,” said Eula. “Crystal asked me if I ever heard anything about any buried treasure around these parts, and I said no. Last night I was thinking about Dan. I still do that a lot. And I remembered something he told me way back when we was courtin’.
“He said when he still wore knee-pants, his granddad—Popi is what he called him.” She looked at Crystal. “That’d be your great-great granddad. Popi told him about a drifter used to come through Wooden Nickel ever once in a while. Popi thought he was just an old crazy guy. Probably was. But Popi was a young whipper snapper, so who knows how old the drifter was.”
Eula stopped to scratch her ear before continuing. “Anyways, Popi said the old man would rave on about living with Indians for ten, twelve years before he managed to escape. Said they kidnapped him, killed his dad and all the men with him. But before the Indians caught ‘em, his dad had his men push a wagon into a lake.”
When Crystal spoke, her voice was more like a gasp. “What was in the wagon?”
Eula smiled. “The old man said it was loaded with gold. Course everybody laughed. Just some old drunk talking foolishness. Looking for an audience. Maybe somebody’d buy him a drink.”
Crystal whispered. “What lake?”
“The old man didn’t know. Didn’t remember, after all those years. He said he was maybe eight or nine when the Indians captured him. Thought it was somewhere in this part of the state. He poked around a lot. Course, nothing come of it.” Eula laughed. “And a few people did buy him lots of drinks, trying to find out more about the treasure. Most folks didn’t believe a word he said.”
Crystal wouldn’t have either—before the events of the last week.
Mark asked, “Did Popi know the drifter’s name? Did he tell Crystal’s granddad?”
“No. I don’t remember... .” Eula stopped and closed her eyes. No one made a sound. Crystal didn’t even breathe. After a minute, Eula opened her eyes and looked at Mark. “Haven’t thought about this in more’n fifty years. Three J’s.” She nodded several times. “Yep, that’s what Dan said. Three J’s.”
“What did that mean?” asked Crystal.
“That’s how your granddad remembered. Three J’s. The drifter called himself Jimmy Joe something with a J. Jones. Johnson. That’s it. Jimmy Joe Johnson.”
“Did he ever find anything?” Crystal asked, her face flush with excitement.
“Dan asked his granddad that. Popi said he didn’t know. The guy finally quit coming around. Popi thought maybe people quit buying him drinks.”
Crystal knew it was silly. But, with her breath coming faster, she asked, “Did he ever search in your lake, here in The Park?”
Eula laughed. “Beats me. That would’ve been fifty years ‘fore I was even thought about.”
Chapter 55
MONDAY morning at ten, the dress rehearsal began. Mark had invited all the employees of IRS to attend, as well as three outsiders, two of whom Crystal didn’t know. Another woman was setting up video equipment. Mark introduced the four people, explaining that they would provide an audience unfamiliar with the projects.
Mark made his introduction, brief and to the point, not trying to oversell IRS.
Next up was Phil. While his presentation Friday had elicited no suggestions for improvement, he had made some anyway, using specific examples of cost savings possible with this program. The effect was good.
Crystal had suggested to Mark that her project follow Phil’s, leaving Sally’s buried treasure act for the grand finale. Crystal and her group had worked six hours Sunday to fine-tune the twenty-minute presentation. She felt confident. After a brief introduction on the basic idea of the Identification from Partial Plate Information project, she proposed a hypothetical situation: The Case of the Puce Truck. She went through much the same stages as had happened in reality, even crediting the partial plate information to a computer surveillance system.
Sally’s program was completely changed. She started with the folk tale of the missing gold, which immediately got everyone’s attention. The two people Crystal didn’t know had paid only perfunctory attention to Phil’s talk and to hers. Now, they were sitting up and taking notice. Sally showed how the folklore database could be used to research the basic idea, tie together the various versions, check out others, and eventually come up with a consensus.
“Is this a real example?” one of the visitors asked. “Or did you just make it up for interest’s sake?”
“Ripped from the pages of today’s real life,” Sally said with a smile.
“Are you going to tell us more about it?” another visitor asked.
“A bit more,” answered Sally and she launched into the use of the topographical database to pinpoint the location of the hidden treasure. Not an eye strayed from her, not a cough was heard, not a chair moved. She pointed out that the researcher had to use some of her own creativity, but it was the database and retrieval software that allowed it to happen. She emphasized that a seemingly impossible task was not only made possible, but was accomplished with a relatively small effort.
Her presentation was a huge success, prompting many questions, including one from the woman running the video equipment: did they find the gold? Sally just smi
led, looked coy and said that was one question she could not answer.
With Al, Joe, Big Man and the Beard all behind bars, JT had returned Saturday for Eddie Ray’s funeral. Today, she beamed through the entire presentation and Crystal realized it was the first time she’d seen JT smile in a month.
Mark provided the wrap-up. It was brief, tying together the previous work, outlining the new projects waiting in the wings, and hinting at additional work which would improve efficiency. For this presentation, he added, “. . . and make money for all IRS employees.” That received a hearty round of applause.
The woman handling the video equipment provided each of the project leaders with a DVD of his or her presentation.
“Excellent,” said Mark, after everybody except those actually working on the projects had left. “I think I’ll invest in this company.” Everyone laughed. “Molly has given each project leader a DVD. Scrutinize it this afternoon, search for anything that might not be clear. By the way, we are expecting William Rooney, himself. He’s the president and CEO of Rooney Associates. Bob Ingram and Jack Wyzinski from Rooney should be here, as well as Dr. Lester Krupe, an IR expert from Stanford, who is a consultant to Rooney Associates. And I’m sure I’ve already told you that Crystal worked with Dr. Krupe while she was at Stanford.”
Crystal visibly winced at the mention of her nemesis. But her stomach did not tie itself in knots. And she thought to herself, he won’t have a gun aimed at my head, and he won’t be threatening Nana.
Mark finished giving instructions and encouragement to the group, then asked to see Crystal for a minute. While the others filed out of the conference room, Mark said, “I’ve got to go straight from the lecture to the airport to pick up the Rooney people. So, I’ll just have to meet you at UT for the lecture. Sorry.”
Actually, Crystal was glad. Maybe she’d get sick and not go. “Fine. I’ll see you there. Three, right?”
“Yes. But be a little early and perhaps we can catch Dr. Krupe before his talk. I won’t have much time afterward. With the traffic and all, I’m going to be pressed. I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep Rooney cooling his heels at the airport.”
A Ton of Gold (Crystal Moore Suspense Book 1) Page 27