by Paul Levine
Granny and Charlie seemed to chew it over for a while. Then Granny said, “No use trying to talk Jacob out of anything. Boy’s got a stubborn streak inherited from Lord knows who.”
Charlie took off his hat, cleared his throat, and pulled a pipe out of a pocket on his fishing vest. He tamped cherry tobacco into the bowl and struggled to keep a match lit in the breeze. “What about the other twenty percent?”
“Blinky’s share,” I said. “It’s being held in trust by the court until he’s declared dead. There was no way to find his body in the rubble.”
“Uh-huh.”
When Charlie’s brain cells are cranked up, he usually stays quiet a while. Off the bow, an osprey dive-bombed the water just off the reef and came up with a parrot fish.
After a moment, Charlie said, “Other than Kip here, you doing this treasure hunting by yourself?”
“I might find some help.”
“From whom?”
“I thought I should get someone with a little experience.”
“There’s something you’re not telling us.”
I put on my innocent face. “Like what?”
“Where’s Baroso?”
Granny growled at that one. “Dead, ain’t he? If he was shot in the leg, he never could have gotten out of the cavern, and even if he did, he couldn’t have climbed all the way up. Isn’t that right, Jake?”
“That’s the way I figure it,” I said.
Granny nodded her approval.
“Unless he took the elevator,” I added.
They both gave me a look.
“Blinky had this old elevator working off a couple of twelve-volt batteries. I missed it on the way in, but I found it on the way out, just before I got to the stone ladder. It’s the way I got back to the top.”
“You left that part out.”
“Not when I told the cops. That’s how I explained the blood.”
Again, the look from both of them.
“There were fresh drops inside the cage. I added a few with my bleeding shoulder. The cops had no reason to test it because they figured it was all mine, and I mostly told the truth: The last time I saw Blinky he was in the cavern, and a couple of seconds later, it was a tomb.”
Charlie made a tsk-tsking sound. “Misleading the police, I’m surprised at you.”
“I didn’t mislead them. I just didn’t go out of my way to help them.”
“Where’d he go?” Granny asked. “How’d he get away?”
“When I got out of the tunnel, Jo Jo’s pickup was still there, but the Jeep was gone.”
“So he contacted you,” Granny said, prompting me to continue.
“In a manner of speaking,” I said.
“Jacob, don’t be difficult.”
“When I got to my rental car, I almost missed it, but on the windshield, somebody had used a finger to write a note in the fresh snow.”
“Lordy, do go on!” Granny shouted, excitedly.
“Please do,” Charlie pleaded.
I didn’t answer.
“Jacob!” Granny demanded.
I still didn’t answer.
Kip joined the chorus. “C’mon, Uncle Jake. What’d he say? I’ll bet it wasn’t ‘Rosebud.’ “
“You know, the three of you are the only people in the world I love with all my heart,” I said.
“So?” Granny demanded.
“So, I m sorry.”
“What in hell’s fire is that supposed to mean?”
“Attorney-client privilege,” I said, and then I felt a tug on my line.
THE END
About the Author
The author of 14 novels, Paul Levine won the John D. MacDonald fiction award and was nominated for the Edgar, Macavity, International Thriller, and James Thurber prizes. A former trial lawyer, he also wrote more than 20 episodes of the CBS military drama “JAG” and co-created the Supreme Court drama “First Monday” starring James Garner and Joe Mantegna. The critically acclaimed international bestseller “To Speak for the Dead” was his first novel. He is also the author of the “Solomon vs. Lord” series and the thriller “Illegal.” His next novel, “Lassiter,” will be published in hardcover—and as an e-book—by Bantam in Fall 2011. Visit Paul Levine on the Web at http://www.paul-levine.com.
Also Available
To Speak For The Dead
Reversal (formerly 9 Scorpions)
Solomon & Lord Drop Anchor
False Dawn
Mortal Sin
Riptide (formerly Slashback)
Coming Soon — The Rest of the Jake Lassiter Series
Flesh & Bones
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