by Stacy Green
Dani’s phone beeped with a text message. Cage. She read it eagerly, her stomach alternately dropping and then rising. “Oh my God.”
“Did they find Nick?” Jeb asked.
“No, but they’ve arrested Wyatt Booth and Mayor Asher for fraud. The FBI is coming in to question Booth. Maybe they’re getting close.” She bit her lip, following Cage’s orders to not share the rest of the text.
Grace hiccupped another sob. “If that man murdered my son, they’d better not screw this up.”
Jeb walked Dani to her truck, promising to let her know if Grace needed anything. “I’m heading into town soon to pick up a few things for her. Please let me know if you or Jaymee need anything.”
Dani drove too fast back to Ironwood, her little truck skidding into the dirty drive and spraying dust everywhere. This morning had dawned cool, but now she was sweating in her lightweight jacket. Mississippi has bipolar weather.
She burst into the front door, greeted by Mutt’s happy barking. Tail wagging and tongue dripping saliva on her restored hardwood, he led her into the kitchen where Jaymee sat at the table. She clutched her phone so tightly her fingers were white.
“Did Cage text you too?”
“Yeah. They’re holding Booth for Ben’s murder, but Cage is afraid it won’t stick.” Dani ticked off the short message. “Booth’s pain patch wasn’t fentanyl. Norton wants the Semple land for natural gas.”
“And Dylan Asher started the fire that nearly killed me.”
“You can’t mention that to anyone,” Dani said. What a stupid fool. Maybe she was naive to the power of a man like Wyatt Booth, but why hadn’t Dylan just gone to the authorities? And the fire! The man was a volunteer at the department. He knew enough to realize how easily the blaze could get out of control, especially with things being so dry. Not to mention Jaymee had nearly died. “He’s cooperating, and they’re trying to keep it secret.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean I can’t knock his teeth out when I see him.”
“Fine by me.” Dani dropped her purse on the stack of forgotten research on the kitchen table. It was one of the few pieces of brand new furniture in the house, and she still couldn’t decide if she liked it. Modern touches just didn’t fit with Ironwood. She’d been putting together a profile of a civil rights worker for the historical foundation when all hell broke loose. One day she’d get back to it.
“They’re not going to find Nick,” Jaymee said, her eyes dry and blazing. “Booth had him killed. He’s gone.”
“You can’t think like that,” Dani said. Never mind she’d been thinking the same thing. Her job as best friend was to keep Jaymee’s spirits up, not destroy what she had left.
“You hungry?” Dani hadn’t eaten since this morning, and her stomach grumbled like an angry bear. They’d spent most of the day on the balcony watching the smoke for the slightest sign of the fire changing its course. Dani cried when it started to rain.
“No, I don’t want anything to eat.”
“You need to keep your strength up.” A stupid thing to say, but she couldn’t think of a better argument right now.
Jaymee snorted, tossing her phone onto the table. “For what? You think I don’t know how this goes? I’ve buried my best friend and my brother. I know how the grieving process works. Guess that’s what my life is about.”
“Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to find Nick.” Dani pulled open the fridge, staring at the shelves stocked with food. Nothing looked good. She had a feeling anything she ate right now would taste like dirt.
“Nothing is.” Jaymee leapt to her feet. Her voice turned shrill. The syrupy accent Dani loved thickened into a heady drawl, the depth of Jaymee’s pain stretching her words. “All I can do is sit around this house, waiting. And this is the mafia we’re talking about. You think Booth screwed up twice?”
“Don’t—”
“I swear to God, if you tell me not to think like that I will smack you.” Jaymee’s face pinched in the effort to ward off the tears. “It’s patronizing, especially when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing. I see it in your eyes! You glance at me then look away, like you’re afraid to tell me something. Only there’s nothing to tell because we both know what’s happened.”
Dani slammed the refrigerator door shut. “Then what do you want me to do? Tell you to give up? If the situation were reversed, you wouldn’t let me give up. And I won’t let you. We’re not giving up until we know what happened.”
“And what exactly are we doing? Futzing around here waiting? We need to get on the stick!”
“I don’t know.” Dani matched her friend’s insolent tone. Fatigue soaked her, pushing her into the nearest chair. “There’s nothing we can do that the police aren’t already doing.”
“What about the cave?”
“Cage said they did a sweep.” Dani couldn’t hide her jealousy. She’d love to spend hours looking inside the cave. During college, she’d excavated a small cave in southern Indiana looking for artifacts from the family who owned the land. Her group hadn’t found much, but the experience was one she’d never forgotten.
“They didn’t stay very long, and they’ll deal with the findings later, but there’s no sign of Nick.”
“But they didn’t stay long. So maybe they missed a clue.”
“Jaymee, there’s nothing there.”
“Except a Confederate munitions stash and possibly the bodies of local historical figures.”
Dani wavered. She knew exactly what Jaymee was doing, but Cage would be pissed at her for going behind his back. His text had explicitly said to stay away from the cave. She tried to be rational, ignoring the pressure from Jaymee’s unwavering, challenging stare.
Her chance to get inside the cave would come eventually, but it would include safety equipment and technicians tromping around disturbing the history. Everything tilled up even worse than it already was, destroying the historical canvass. Right now, she could look at it relatively unblemished. They probably wouldn’t find anything that led to Nick, but it would get Jaymee out of the house, make her feel like she was doing something. And satisfy Dani’s own pushy curiosity.
And Cage would understand. He always did. That’s why they were such a good match.
“We know about the dangers of the gas,” Dani reasoned. “I’ve got some paper masks left from staining the upstairs. Those would help. And since we know the gas is there, we can hightail it out if we feel funny.”
Jaymee smiled for the first time this morning. “Ten minute breaks. Into the fresh air.”
“Cage will be pissed.”
“He’ll get over it. And by all rights, it’s expected of us. He knows what we’re like.”
“We’d be trespassing.”
“Not the first time.” Jaymee’s grin was intoxicating, her energy the fuel Dani needed.
“I’ll get the masks.”
28
“What are we going to do if the police are already out here?” Dani’s heavy boots smashed the dry grass as she and Jaymee hiked toward White Creek. Behind Ironwood, the yard sloped down into an uneven mess of trees—a mishmash of hickory and oak and maple, with clover and butterfly weed already growing tall in the warm spring. Soon, Jaymee said, the butterflies would return, flittering around the trees and making their way into the yard.
“I doubt it.” Jaymee’s long legs set a fast pace. “Even with the counties and the town police combined, the cops don’t have that many people. And I’d bet they’re all searching Ashland right now, thinking they’ll find Nick and maybe hand deliver a big fish to the Feds.”
“Okay, but what if?”
“Then we look like a couple of dumbasses, chalk it up to stress and grief and nosiness, and go back to the house. Wait for Cage to call and yell at us.”
“That works.”
Late afternoon wind wafted through the trees. The weather had gotten cool again, and Dani zipped up the fleece vest she’d grabbed, wishing she’d brought the jacket instea
d. One day she’d figure out the capricious weather.
The stink of the distant, dying fire overpowered the sweet scents of spring. Dani sneezed. She needed to take an allergy pill before her allergies really kicked in. The acrid odor lodged in her nose and then seeped to her throat. “Wonder how long that stench will stick around?”
“Who knows? Probably depends on how much rain we got.”
They fell silent, with only the sound of their feet moving through the tall grasses.
“Watch out for the snakes,” Jaymee said. “Rattlesnakes’ll warn you, but it’s the copperheads you have to watch out for. Suckers don’t let you see them until you step on them.”
Ducking tree limbs and sidestepping overgrown brush, Dani forged ahead. The thatch of woods surrounding the creek seemed bigger than the last time she and Cage hiked through them. Every leaf mocked her, whispering and pointing at her sneakiness. But she wouldn’t be doing this if Nick wasn’t missing and Jaymee wasn’t going half crazy. So her sneakiness was at least a tiny bit justified.
Scraggly strands of ferns snagged the soft sleeves of her shirt, their dried ends scratchy against her skin. Spanish moss dripped from the trees and combined with the drifting fog of smoke to create an eerie landscape. One that might swallow them whole if they weren’t careful.
“Do you have any idea where the cave is?” Jaymee whispered, her voice close to Dani. Safety in numbers. And silence.
“Somewhere near the hickory tree Cage needs to cut down before it falls and takes a good tree with it. On the Semple side.”
They trudged on, the caw of an angry crow nearly stopping Dani’s heart, until the dying hickory came into sight. Half its limbs bare and rotting, its trunk split with bark peeling back in curled strips like eyelashes, the tree stood out among the surrounding green. “I think lightning hit it.”
“Something sure did. Tell Oren that Cage hasn’t cut it yet. He’ll get on his ass.”
Dani barely heard her. She pointed to the strip of orange plastic fluttering across the creek. “Cage and Gina marked the spot.”
“See, I said you were expected. Seriously, though, it’s a lot denser back here than I thought it would be.”
“I know.” Dani braced herself and let her feet inch down the steep, slippery bank. “I always feel like I’m Alice in Wonderland when I come back here.”
“You’d be the Mad Hatter. You talk almost as fast.”
“Shut up.” She was probably right, but Dani wasn’t going to give her the ammunition to tease her with later. Dani’s feet hit the creek bed, splashing water onto her jeans. Jaymee landed beside her.
“Climbing the other side is going to suck.” Jaymee sloshed through the ankle deep water until she reached the next hickory tree. This one preened with good health. Jaymee latched onto one of its lower hanging branches and started hauling herself up the other side.
Dani followed suit. Feet sliding in the damp grass and red mud, she climbed. Then she slipped, nearly getting a mouthful of the iron-soaked earth. Jaymee leaned over the bank, and Dani gratefully grabbed her arm with her free hand.
She didn’t see the opening of the cave until they stood in front of it. The heavy growth of foliage was the perfect cover, and if not for the orange flag, Dani wasn’t sure she would have ever found it. She handed Jaymee the painter’s mask, which probably wouldn’t help but seemed like the right thing to do. “Put this on.”
“I hate these things.” Jaymee slid the mask on. “Makes me feel like I’m smothering in my own breath.”
“Long as it doesn’t stink.” Dani powered up her big flashlight. Pushing the thick brush aside, she shined the light into the black hole. Jaymee nudged her back. “Go on.”
“This was your idea.”
“Yeah, but you’re the expert. And you’ve got experience with closed-up spaces.”
Except the last time Dani discovered a passage, a nut job had accosted her and Cage. She grabbed Jaymee’s hand and stepped across the threshold.
Inside the cave felt much cooler than outside, almost crisp. The dry, dark air didn’t allow for any sort of life, and so there was nothing to rot and stink up the place. Dani’s light fell across the rocky walls, red-earth floor, and various equipment. Some of it was new, most likely brought by Booth’s people to search and test for the gas. She didn’t know anything about the stuff, and she didn’t care. Her eyes were on the wooden munitions boxes in the corner. Still holding tightly to Jaymee’s hand, she dragged her friend deeper into the cave.
The boxes were partially rotted, Dylan or someone having thrown the tops off. Inside were several Minié balls and two muzzle-loaded rifles that looked worse for wear. The next crate held knives and boxes of various projectiles.
“Where are the bones?” Jaymee whispered in Dani’s ear, her voice barely audible through the paper mask.
“Toward the back of the main section, Cage said, right before the cave narrows. Guess it runs pretty deep into the ground, but turns into more of a tunnel. Person has to slide through it. That’s where the gas is.”
“And they looked for Nick?”
“You know they did.”
Dani took a deep breath, and then worry slid over her. “You feel okay? Not woozy or nauseous?”
“I’m good. Let’s look at the bones.”
Dani didn’t know what Jaymee expected to learn from the bones. They wouldn’t tell them anything about where Nick was. Neither would this cave. But it is pretty freaking amazing.
A high, rough ceiling made from thousands of years of earth and rocks and erosion gave the main area of the cave an open feel. Some of the walls bore graffiti, but Dani would need a longer, closer look to identify it. Her imagination wanted to believe it was the markings of the Brennan gang, sharing the details of their cruel excursions and maybe the last moments of their lives. But she didn’t have time for imagination right now. Too much to see and very little time to see it.
Carefully, her fear of breathing deeply making her suck air in too quickly, Dani stepped into the bowels of the cave. The once high ceiling dropped, making her feel like she was stuck in a trash compactor. The temperature sank. The air felt heavier. Finally, the beam of Dani’s light caught the dull color of the bones.
They were mounded in a corner against the wall, most likely swept out of the way recently. Dani knelt down for a closer look, déjà vu whispering in her ear. She’d done this very same thing in the basement of Ironwood. Less bones here, at least on the surface, and from what she could see, not in the position of death but pushed into a pile like junk. No skull, but a leg bone and what looked like a partial pelvis.
“There’s no clothing. Dylan doesn’t know any more about bones than we do. Without clothes to at least have some idea of the time period this body came from, how can he be so sure these are from the Brennan gang?” She didn’t like this. No reason why, but a foreboding tingling crawled over her. Or maybe it was some sort of nasty cave spider. Either way, she was suddenly and intensely creeped out.
“I’ve got no idea. But it’s colder than a witch’s tit in here.” Jaymee’s voice sounded unsteady.
Dani stuck the light in her face. “Are you getting sick?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s my mind playing tricks on me. Or maybe I’m just a wimp.”
“We’re not taking the risk. Let’s go out for a few minutes.” And make sure they didn’t have any critters on them. She nudged Jaymee ahead, holding the light so they both could see. The wide beam caught a cylinder-like object half buried in the dirt near the right of the entrance. The earth peeled back from whatever the thing was in a way that made Dani think it had once been buried, and time was unearthing it.
“What’s that?” Jaymee asked.
Dani pulled one of her wool gloves out of her jeans pocket, proud she’d thought to bring them, and slipped it on. She knelt down for a closer look. “Looks like an axe handle.” She tugged hard with little movement; the axe had been stuck in that spot for a long time. Jaymee wrapped her ha
nd around Dani’s, and together they yanked out the handle.
A black scrawl of words on the handle screamed at Dani like a warning beacon and then ran together as if they were nothing more than a long blob of ink. Her tongue tasted like cotton, and her pulse thrummed in her chest. Dizziness washed over her.
“Shit, I’m getting sick. Let’s get out.”
Stumbling into the fresh air, she inhaled a deep breath and then sank to the ground, axe handle still in hand. For a minute, the woods swam as she tried to find her bearings. Moisture from the damp ground soaked through the knees of her jeans. The fingernails of her ungloved hand skimmed the dirt.
Jaymee’s hand rubbed her back. Her voice, far away and urgent. “You okay?”
Dani shook her head, took another deep breath. Her vision cleared so she could see the water droplets sticking to the milkweed. “Yeah.”
“Good, because do you realize what you’re holding?”
She looked again at the axe handle. Everything turned cold as she read the signature. “Lester Maddux.”
Lester Maddux had been the Jim Crow-loving owner of Pickrick’s Cafeteria in Georgia. In July of 1964, he’d refused to allow three black students from Georgia Tech to enter, and he and his supporters had used axe handles to ward off what Maddux called the invasion.
“He sold these as souvenirs,” Dani said. “Later, when he was governor.”
“Yeah, but those were printed, right? Like through a machine?”
“You’re right. This is signed. I don’t know signatures but someone signed his name. It’s out of place, whether it’s really Maddux’s signature or not. This thing’s a hundred years younger than anything else in here.” Her fingers tingled as she carefully wiped off the thick covering of dirt from the buried end. She flicked off the dried dirt with her fingernail. “And it’s stained with something dark.”