by Ace Collins
“Maybe in your mind, but it doesn’t bring the innocent ones back from the dead. Not at this moment, not tomorrow, not ever.”
Lije bent down to pick up a stone and looked up toward the German’s old house.
There stood a man watching them. He looked right at Lije. Then the man turned and walked away from the edge and disappeared.
He’d been there all along.
IT HAD BEEN THREE MONTHS SINCE KAITLYN’S DEATH. The case had gone cold, and so had Smith’s trail. The media circushad moved and left Salem the sleepy little town it had always been. Curtis was back at Hillman’s side. Lije hadn’t talked to her in weeks. McGee had used what he had learned to get Heather released and cleared. But Lije hadn’t seen her since that day he visited her in jail. She had left Salem. In all the time she had been gone, she hadn’t called. Lije’s log home on the Shell Hill, once the happiest place in the Ozarks when Kaitlyn was alive, felt cold and gloomy.
Lije had returned to Swope’s Ridge. It was as if the spirit of Micah Dean had invaded his own. He couldn’t ever leave the place for long. The lure was simply too great. The answer to the mystery was there somewhere and he had to find it or die trying. Beyond that one goal, what else was there in life?
On this Saturday in late September, he was working his way through the mountains of stuff the German had stored in his fortresslike home. It was a monumental task that ate up time like a hungry hog consuming fresh corn. He had been spending every spare moment for weeks searching, yet during all that time had found nothing. Complicating the search was not knowing what he was looking for. Too often he rated the search as an exercise in futility. Still he kept at it, always led by the belief that one more day or one more hour would pay off.
Janie Davies had joined him on the latest trip out. She had cleared a spot at the kitchen table and was munching on one of the famous hot-link sausage sandwiches from Sonny Burnes’ Barbeque Stand. Lije looked up, noting her obvious joy as she savored each bite of the spiced meat. Realizing he had quit thumbing through the yellowed pages of another book, she asked, “Still nothing in the books?”
“No,” he admitted, “only a few scraps of paper and some dogeared pages.”
If Smith and his partner couldn’t find it, and if Curtis and the ABI turned up nothing in their exhaustive searches, then odds were pretty much against an amateur stumbling onto whatever it was. But still, just being here, checking things one more time, then boxing them up, was therapeutic. Plus, if he was ever going to get any good out of this place, the cleanup needed to be done.
“I know you’ve been back and forth on this,” Janie said, “but now you’re telling me you’re going to keep the house?”
Lije shook his head. “I wish you could see the look on my face right now.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Remind me again why I hired you away from that firm in Little Rock.”
She grinned. “Probably because I’m cute. At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
What would he have done if she had not come into his life? She had forced him back into his law practice. She’d made him focus on his work. And she had encouraged him to be honest with his grief. Then, when he felt he couldn’t pull himself out of the dark depression created by that loss, she had made him laugh.
“So what are you doing with it? ” she asked.
“With what?”
“This house. Can’t you follow even the simplest conversation?”
“Yours are never simple,” he said, laughing. “And on this house, I’m going to sell off the antique stuff. Then, after storing anything that could be a clue, I’m going to tear it down. I’m building a stone and log cabin that fits in with the land. This place is much too dark. This spot needs a home that is filled with light.”
“Maybe for you, but …” she grinned, not feeling the need to finish her thought.
He was used to her humor now. And she was funny, maybe not as funny as she thought she was, but funny.
It was time to go through another book, page by page.
He was halfway finished with that goal when Janie announced, “A car’s coming up the lane.”
“Probably Don Ried. He’s an antique dealer in Hardy. I asked him to come up and help me figure if there is anything of value here.”
An engine cut off, two doors slammed, and a few seconds later a voice called out from the front door. “Lije, you in there?”
He knew that voice, and it wasn’t Don Ried.
HOW HE HAD MISSED THE PERSON WHO OWNED THAT voice! Bouncing up, he rushed across the room and flung open the dark wooden door. He greeted his visitor with a hug so strong it almost pushed the air out of her body. “Heather, how are you?”
Patting his back while trying to catch her breath, Heather choked out, “Fine and I’m glad to see you too.”
Though he didn’t want to, Lije released her and stepped back. He took a long look and smiled. “You look great.”
“Thanks.”
Then he realized Heather wasn’t alone. He looked, unsmiling, at her companion. Diana Curtis, also unsmiling, held his look.
She had gone back to the ABI. She had returned to Hillman in spite of what she knew. He wanted nothing to do with her. He didn’t want her in the house.
“How did you know I was here? ” he asked Heather.
“Well, you weren’t at the office or at home, so Diana figured this would be the next place you might hang out on a Saturday.”
Curtis knew him well. He’d give her that much.
Lije stepped back from the entryway and held an arm out to direct Heather into the living room. “Forgive my manners. Come in, come in. I’m thrilled to see you. Move some books and find a seat.”
Perhaps it was the dust, but Heather opted to stand. Though she hadn’t been asked to sit down, Curtis moved to the far side of the room and took a seat on the arm of the couch.
“Did you find out anything about your brother? ” Lije asked.
“He is alive. We got him back home.” Heather smiled. “They found him doing work in a small Iraqi hospital. He has a great deal of psychological damage. It will take some real professional help to put him back together. I’ve been trying, but there’s nothing more I can do to help him. Time will tell if he comes back to be the person he used to be.”
“What are your plans?”
“I really needed to be back up here. This is home now. And if you’ll have me … I want to work for you again.”
“I’d love the help…. Sure. We’ve got a heavy caseload right now.”
“Super!” Heather said. “So what’re you doing?”
Lije glanced up. “You’ve probably read about the train and its cargo. We’re fighting to keep as much of the train treasure as we can. It’s working its way through the courts. Battling the government’s a big job, and I’ll be more than glad to have you do your part.”
“That’s a relief,” she said. “How about you? Are you all right?”
“I am. I’ve set up a charity foundation. Most of the money from the treasure will go to the foundation. I know both Kaitlyn and Andrew Farnsworth would approve. It seems a fitting testimony to them.”
Heather nodded. “What about the old train? What’s going to happen to it?”
“Well, the locomotive’s nothing more than scrap iron, but train aficionado Dr. Robert Cathcart, who was with us, is overseeing the removal of the cars. They’re filming every step of the process for a TV special. We’ve cut a pretty easy trail from the house to the river and the cave’s now wired with lights. Maybe later in the day we can go down and see the progress they’ve made.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “I’ve read so much about it. I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
She looked over at Diana, as if it was now her turn. And when she didn’t say anything, Heather said, “Diana told me the guy who killed Kaitlyn is still on the loose.”
“Well, I haven’t caught him,” Lije admitted, then added, “and something tells
me it won’t be a top priority at the ABI.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Curtis said. “For me, the ABI is history. I couldn’t work with Barton knowing what he did. I didn’t go back to forgive him. I went back to find a way to bring him down.”
“Did you,” Lije said, not as a question but as a challenge to what was the truth. He was wary of what might be next.
“I’ve got an insurance policy of sorts,” Curtis replied. “You remember Bear’s computer, the one he left in the bowling alley and got tossed from the car during our wreck?”
“Sure.”
“It was pretty banged up, and Bear just let it sit while working on a new one. Then I needed something off the hard drive. And lo and behold, I discovered he had backed up the whole DVD of Dean’s murder onto his old laptop before we saw the video. I now have several copies.”
“Why not take it to the police? Clear Jennings’ name at least.”
“I’m working on that. Hillman’s wreck story still holds. I can’t prove he staged the accident. But Barton knows I have the DVD. Better yet, he knows I’ll now be watching his every move. I’m going to bring him down. It might take some time, but I’m going to do it.”
Curtis reached into her purse. “And this is for you, Lije. Hillman was in possession of a letter that was supposed to be delivered to you. I lifted some files before I left the ABI and this was in one of them.”
Lije took the envelope from her. The address was handwritten, no return address. He studied it, then set it down on a table. He’d open it later. He was afraid of what might be in the letter. He wasn’t willing to open a door on the past. Not now. He hesitated, then he picked it up, tore open the envelope, and quickly skimmed the one-page note.
Amazing. This was word from the other side.
“WHO’S THE LETTER FROM? ” CURTIS ASKED.
Lije read and reread the two paragraphs. “Jonathon Jennings.”
Except for the distant sounds of the river, the room was quiet.
Jennings had written the letter the day before his execution. It was carefully written, no words wasted. He thanked Lije for meeting with him and offering to help. And asked Lije to help out a pen pal of his, a man on death row in Texas who claimed his innocence.
You didn’t have time to save me, Jennings wrote, but maybe you can save him.
Lije looked up at Heather and Curtis.
“Diana, help me. We’re changing the direction of the law firm a little bit—moving toward criminal defense. Death row inmates. And I also need help tracking down Robert Smith. I can’t pay much right now. I’m not personally getting a dime of the treasure.”
Curtis paused and stared out the window for some time. Finally she turned to face Lije, a light in her eyes he hadn’t seen before. “Long as I can eat, I’ll be fine,” she replied.
“Does this mean I’m getting a pay cut? ” called out Janie from the kitchen.
Heather whirled around. Apparently she hadn’t even seen Janie yet.
“Oh, Heather, this is our new legal assistant, Janie Davies,” Lije said.
Janie waved from the kitchen. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Heather. Hey, Diana.”
Heather smiled, “Nice to meet you.” She watched Janie as she picked her plate up from the table, slowly turned, and worked her way to the counter, using her left hand to find the sink.
Heather turned back toward Lije and, as if playing a game of charades, used her arm to silently pose a visual question.
Before he could answer, Janie cracked, “Please tell me she didn’t just do the wave-the-hand-in-front-of-the-eyes thing. That’s so old!”
Heather yanked her arm down to her side and froze, embarrassed.
Janie laughed. “Don’t worry, everyone does it. Yes, I’m blind, but I still think you’ll find that on occasion I can offer a few special things to the team. By the way, don’t make fun of me if I wear clashing colors at times.”
“I promise I won’t,” Heather said. Then she moved closer to Lije. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“It’s just something I keep thinking about. I don’t know why. Just curious.” She paused. “Did Kaitlyn say anything before she died? I mean, any last words?”
He looked down at his hands. “She urged me to get up and make it to the ridge at the top of the hill. She said …”
No! Kaitlyn wasn’t urging him to get to the top of the hill that night on Farraday Road. She was apologizing. For the attack. She had been warned by Mrs. Dean. She didn’t believe her. She realized the attack was all about this place. She thought it was her fault!He looked at Heather. “She said, ‘The Ridge.’ I think she …” He let the words trail off.
Lije leaned back and closed his eyes. How could the property he now owned have been the cause of his Kaitlyn’s death? He replayed everything he had learned about the Ridge—Swope’s Ridge, the curse, the warning. Why was he now so caught up in solving this mystery, in finding the unknown? Had Kaitlyn been warning him that night? Was she warning him now?
Janie had joined them in the living room and was sitting on the floor, her bare feet shoved beneath the old divan. She wiggled her toes, as if stroking the underside of a pet. Then she bent over, stuck her hand underneath the divan, and ripped the lining loose. She pulled out an oversized book. “What’s this?”
Easing down beside her, Lije took the book from her. One look at the cover gave away its origin. It wasn’t from Germany.
“It’s a high school yearbook. It’s from Ash Flat, 1936. That’s south of here.” He opened the cover. “Belongs to ‘JoJo’ … at least that’s who all the autographs are signed to.”
Curtis moved to look over his shoulder. “This is the only book in the house from here locally, right?”
“Only one I’ve found.”
“Why would it be in the German’s home? ” Janie asked. “And hidden up underneath the divan?”
“Don’t know,” Lije said. He thumbed through a few pages. “Here’s a photo of JoJo. Wow!”
“What? ” Janie demanded.
This was far too much to believe. He knew who this woman was—or had been.
“Lije? ” Heather said. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“Her name was Josephine Worle. I never heard her called JoJo, but she was my grandmother’s sister. She disappeared sometime after World War II. I remember my mother telling me about it. She was a kid when it happened. Josephine was about thirty and didn’t show up to work one day at the Palace Drug Store in Mammoth Spring. They searched for her for a long time, but never found her. She disappeared without a trace.”
Curtis took the book and scanned the pages. “From the awards and write-ups, looks like she was popular and very active. She was in just about everything.”
“That matches what I was always told,” Lije said, “but that doesn’t answer why her annual is in here. Nobody was ever allowed in this house. At least, that’s what I was told.”
“Lije,” Curtis cut in, “look at this photo of the senior class in front of the school. Look at that bus in the background. See the school name and the bus number? Isn’t that the bus that’s sitting over in the weeds beside this house?”
He studied the photo. Since it was mostly hidden by small post oaks and cedar trees, he had only glanced at the old vehicle a couple of times as he’d walked by. But even a casual look at the grill gave away its bloodlines. It was a 1930s vintage Ford, and even though the paint was faded almost into the primer, the outline of an eagle was still barely visible on its side. In the middle of the bird was a number. What was it? Oh yeah, three, just like in the yearbook photo.
“Yeah, I think so,” he said. “It could be the same bus.” But how was JoJo tied to this house? How far back did this thing go in his family?
“Have you searched the bus? ” Curtis asked. “Has anybody searched the bus?”
“No,” he replied, looking up. “Let’s go.”
Curtis was the first out the door. A shot rang out an
d she dove back into the house.
“Are you hurt? ” Lije asked.
“No,” Curtis replied. “She opened the door a crack and waited. Nothing. She opened it farther, waited, then looked out. A car engine started and they heard the sound of tires on gravel. Glancing over her shoulder, Lije caught a glimpse of a white SUV driving away on the narrow logging road at the top of the ridge. It disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Curtis closed the door and looked at three frightened faces. “We’d better find out what is so important in this place pretty soon or we’ll all be dead.”
to be continued …
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