Still frowning, Eddy said, "Oka-a-y, but I still don't like it. I'll call you around noon."
“Okay, Tonto.”
Link watched Eddy drive away. They each had tasks for the day. Link worried about Eddy's warning. The only criticism he received at Dallas PD was for taking on too much alone, not working with a partner or team. In this instance, he saw no alternative. He had to work alone or not at all.
On the way to do his Lone Ranger errands, Link stopped by Vince Bertolli's office. He found Vince unlocking the front door of his office.
"Hey there, Link. I was going to call you again. Come on in and we'll talk. My secretary has a doctor's appointment, so we'll be alone for a while."
They went into Vince's office and Link sat down. Vince put coffee on to brew and sat at his desk.
“Had a court case early this morning.” He took a sheaf of papers from his briefcase.
"Maggie gave me your message, but it was late when I got home last night. What’d you find?"
"You said you had two different problems, but you were wrong. Somehow, they're tied together." Vince frowned. "You'll have to help me fit the puzzle pieces. There's dirty business here, woven in and out."
There went that prickly feeling at the back of Link’s neck. He sat up straight. "What do you mean, the two are linked together?"
"One of the clerks in the records section casually mentioned the girl who was murdered was in there, looking at these same records a couple of days before she died. So, when I went to check the tax records, I asked if anyone else had asked for the information. Same answer--Mitzi Dunaway had."
“Wow, I can’t see how she’s connected to Coy, can you?”
“No, but it gets weirder. One of those properties is just across the river from the land I just bought.”
“No way. That is weird. Sure is pretty out there. Man, I don’t know how this all ties together.”
Vince leaned forward, an earnest look on his face as he handed Link a stack of papers. "I think you had better look at these. Look at them closely."
While Link poured over the papers, Vince cleared his throat. “Um, uh, Link?”
Link lowered the papers. “Yes?”
“There’s something else, something entirely different.”
Link waited for him to continue. Good Lord, was Vince blushing? No, maybe not. Too dark-skinned to tell. He definitely looked uncomfortable about something, though. “What is it?”
“One of my clients, um, someone who wishes to remain anonymous, is very interested in the preservation of historic homes in Cartersville. Sh-this client has established the annual Cartersville Historic Preservation Grant. Seems your place is the first recipient.”
Link frowned. “What grant? I never heard of it. How could I win?”
“The client chose you. Supposedly because of the historic value of your property. You know, it being a former governor’s home, the historic marker, all that? If you have time to sign the permission paperwork, I can get the ball rolling and get the painters started while the weather is dry.”
“Sign permission papers? Yeah, right. Not a chance in hell.”
“I know what you’re thinking, but this is on the level.”
“What’s it entail?” If he didn’t trust Vince, he would be ready to deck him about now.
Vince pulled another sheaf of papers from a folder. “Here’s the list of all it provides.”
Link scanned the list, then reread it. “Man, all this would take thousands and thousands of dollars.” He shook his head. “There’s a major catch somewhere. You know what they say, if it sounds too good to be true, then it is.”
Vince looked about as comfortable as if he were sitting on a porcupine. “You can cross off anything you don’t want. Don’t worry. Everything has to be completed in keeping with the period of the house, except updating plumbing and wiring. No vinyl siding or track lights.”
So what the hell was this all about? Still, if it were on the level, he could sure use the help. And the house was the home of a nineteenth century Texas Governor. His several greats grandfather.
Link read the papers. Painting inside and out, wallpaper where appropriate, new appliances, new wiring, new plumbing, new roof, lawn service for a year.
“Cross off anything? Not likely. You think I’m crazy?” Then he remembered the way the real world worked. “Wait, do I have to open the house to visitor tours or does this obligate me in any way to the donor? Hey, would there be some weird kind of lien against the property, put the house in jeopardy?”
Vince shook his head. “Nope. It’s entirely without strings, except that the name of the donor remains secret.” He shrugged. “All you have to do is tolerate repairmen swarming over the place.”
“I can handle that.” Link flashed a smile. He felt like shouting Hallelujah. What a break. He couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Lord, I hope they’re a damn sight better at home repairs than I am.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Happy as a kid at Christmas, he went back by the Justice Center to get the key to the Morrison house. Vince had outdone himself. As if the grant wasn’t worth his weight in gold, he had found hard evidence in the murder investigation. Admitting to his superstitions, this boded well for his evening plans, didn’t it?
On the way out he ran into Gary Don and his shadow, Buel Watson. It was difficult to feign comradeship for the Sheriff, but Link tried for Mr. Congeniality. His effort must have fallen short.
Gary Don asked, "You look a mite put out, old buddy. How’re things going? Looks like you lost your last friend."
Link took a deep breath and practiced his lies. "Aw, Gary Don, this investigation is going nowhere. I'm really feeling bad for poor little Mitzi's sake. Don't worry, though, I'll keep after it until we find out who's responsible."
"Well, that Goddard's a good man. You just stick with him and I know you'll see justice done." Gary Don gave Link a slap on the back. "Say, me and you'll have to get together soon. I'll have the ol'e lady fry us up some catfish. We can talk over old times."
"Sure, sounds good," Link lied again.
He wondered if Twyla Sue resented being called the old lady and, if so, if she ever spoke up about it? Probably not. He figured her father was one of the Bible thumping preachers who quoted the part of Ephesians about a woman being submissive to her husband, but skipped the rest of the passage about the husband’s duties to his wife. The women in Link’s family would never allow that.
Gary Don chattered on while his sidekick stood glaring. Watson had eyes like a ferret and they never left Link's face. His gaze made Link feel as if the little man could see into his mind. Could Watson suspect his undercover role? Aye or nay, Link was glad to get away from them both.
Link's next stop was to the veterinary office of an old family friend. Although years had passed since they had seen one another, old Doc Cretsinger welcomed Link as if it had been only a few days or weeks. Link smiled as he left the animal hospital and stashed a small parcel in his pocket. At the grocery store, he stocked up on soft drinks, snacks, and five pounds of ground meat.
Link finished these chores at the supper hour. He pulled into the driveway at the home of his sister, Fran, and brother-in-law, Rob Gamble. Rob was playing catch in the yard with his sons, Bobby and Johnny. Link retrieved a missed catch and threw it to Bobby.
"Hey, Link, how's it going?" Rob asked.
"Great, I think. I came to ask a big favor.” He grimaced. “A really, big favor."
"Sure." Rob removed the catcher's glove from his hand and spoke to the boys. "You play without me while Uncle Link and I talk." He turned back to Link. "Would you like a beer?"
I would love one, Link thought. He had to keep his head clear, though. "No, I'd like a boat. I know borrowing a man's bass boat is a serious thing, Rob, but I really need to use it tonight and part of tomorrow."
"You're in luck. I worked over the motor and it's running real smooth. You don’t have a trailer hitch on your Jeep, though, do you? You'd better take the truc
k too."
"Thanks. I hate borrowing it, but this is important."
"Hey, you know I don't mind. Come on in the house and I'll get the spare keys. You staying for supper?"
Link resisted Fran and Rob's invitation to share their supper. He was soon on his way in Rob's truck with the boat trailing nicely behind. Man, it was great to be on good terms with his brothers-in-law. He pulled into his own driveway intent on his plan.
His concentration did not prevent him from noticing two shapely legs descending the ladder from Jason's tree house. Jason stood in the window above watching. When Jason saw his father, he waved and yelled.
"Dad, why do you have Uncle Rob's truck and boat? Can I go with you?"
By this time the legs had reached the ground and the woman turned to face him. This had to be Jason's friend, Anna. Wowzer. No wonder Kathy and Gwen thought she’d be perfect for him. She'd be perfect for any man with blood coursing through his veins.
Damn, they didn't do her justice when they described her as beautiful. She wore khaki shorts and a loose knit green shirt. The green matched her eyes.
She extended her hand as she said, "Hello. You must be Lincoln Dixon. I'm Anna Zimmermann, Vince's sister."
She met his gaze but her fingers toyed with her necklace. It was the macaroni chain Jason had made. On her the gold sprayed pasta strung on yarn looked regal. Link felt himself gaping like a besotted schoolboy.
Close your mouth and reign in those hormones.
"Call me Link. Jason's been talking about you a lot. Thanks for being nice to him. But, please, don't let him become a pest." He felt like a babbling backwoods bumpkin standing beside a queen.
“He’s a charming boy and I hope you’ll let him continue to visit with me.” She walked down the drive, but paused once to smile over her shoulder and wave.
Link knew he stared but he couldn’t make himself turn away until Jason ran up and tugged on Link's pant leg.
"Dad, Dad? Can I go? Where are you going?"
"Son, I'm sorry. This is for a case I'm working on." Damn, he hated seeing Jason’s smile turn to disappointment.
Jason helped Link gather up the additional supplies needed for his expedition. He was stacking the last item in the boat when Maggie came out to talk to him.
She looked worried. "Lincoln, you had a call from Retta Patterson."
Link groaned. "Big Momma? Good Lord, I'm glad I missed out on that. What did she want?"
"Virgil Lee's in big trouble. This time he really lost control and put Nadine in the hospital. Retta’s trying to get him out on bail."
Link stopped stacking and tucking his gear into the boat. "Nadine hurt bad?"
Maggie nodded. "She has a broken arm and cracked ribs plus some internal bleeding. She’ll be in the hospital a few days for treatment and observation."
"It's her head they need to examine if she goes back to Virgil Lee."
Link saw the pained look flash across Maggie's face and then it was gone. Hell. He'd forgotten her husband had been just like Virgil Lee. This time he’d really put his foot in his mouth. He felt like a worm. Babbling backwoods bumpkin worm.
Her face once again a mask of self-control, Maggie hid the pain he’d just caused her. "Well, Retta wanted you to do something to help Virgil Lee get out on bail and to help Nadine."
"Maggie, I can't do anything tonight. I tried to get Nadine to let me help her when I was out there earlier this month. At least if she’s in the hospital she’ll be safe for a while.”
He put his arm across her shoulders and gave a squeeze in apology. “Everyone in the family has tried to get Virgil Lee to straighten himself up. Right now, I have other responsibilities that come first."
Over a quick supper with Maggie and Jason, Link briefly explained about the preservation grant. Painters would arrive sometime next week, whenever Vince could arrange it.
“What colors did you choose?” Maggie asked.
“Told him to stay with the pale gray with white and darker gray trim that Nana A always preferred. You be thinking about the appliances, Maggie. Apparently we get all new ones, including a dishwasher.”
He expected her to shout with joy, but she frowned and peered around the kitchen. “You don’t think they’ll try to modernize it, do you? I’d hate to see them ruin these wonderful old cupboards.”
He followed her gaze. The old cupboards were nice. White, some with see-through glass doors and others solid. Nice china knobs. Lots of drawers under the counter. Three long windows and a wide half window over the sink gave plenty of light to the room, but Link remembered they also let in lots of cold in the winter months.
“According to Vince, the whole thing has to be accomplished without compromising the historic value. He assured me the heating and plumbing can be modernized and the kitchen and bathrooms updated without ruining the aesthetic charm of the place. I hope he’s right.”
“We’ll both keep an eye on things to make sure.” Her gaze roamed the room again, but this time Link figured she was already mentally picking colors and calculating changes. “It would be nice to have everything in tip top shape without you having to spend so much time making repairs.”
Jason bounced in his chair. “Then you can spend more time with me, Dad.”
“You can count on it, son.” Link pushed away from the table and handed Maggie a sealed envelope.
"I'm working on something big tonight. You remember Eddy Wells, the young deputy who was here last night? He'll call tomorrow by noon. If you haven't heard from me by the time Eddy calls, you open this envelope and follow the instructions inside. All right?"
She held the envelope as if it might explode. "That sounds real serious, Lincoln. I hope you aren't taking unnecessary chances."
He gave her a second one. “If you have to open the first one, then after you follow those instructions, give this one to Eddy Wells.”
She looked so upset that Link patted her arm and reassured her, "Don't worry, it’s just a precaution. But don't lose the envelopes."
"I sure wish I could go with you, Dad?" Jason looked hopeful.
Link knelt down to talk to his son. "No, son, I told you this is for a case I'm working on. I promise, though, that as soon as this case is solved we'll go fishing together. With this settled and me not having to spend time making repairs, we’ll have lots of time to do fun things.”
“You promise?” Jason asked, looking doubtful.
“You bet I promise. Remember, we’re a team.” He hugged his son a little harder, knowing the danger he faced and the possible folly of his plan, then ruffled a hand across Jason’s hair. “Now I have to hurry so I can get in position before dark."
Chapter Twenty-Six
Link launched the boat at the Turtle Back Cove public launch ramp and hurried toward his goal. Everything looked different down on the Brazos River. He was even with the mobile home compound before he knew it. Ferocious barking dogs charged toward the river to alert him he’d arrived.
The tranquilizers he cajoled from the vet were now pulverized and mixed thoroughly into the ground meat. Link pretended to lay a trotline near the compound. Once he thought the big Doberman might actually enter the water to swim after him. As he passed near the yapping animals, Link tossed chunks of doctored meat onto the shore, timing his throw to a jerk on the trotline he laid.
The dogs stopped barking long enough to eat the meat, but still patrolled at the water's edge. It was almost dark by this time, and a fine mist fell. The sky overhead promised a dark night with more rain soon, but there were occasional glimpses of the full moon behind the clouds.
He motored a little way upstream and fished as the boat drifted back by the compound. The meat was gone from the places he'd tossed. Good. No way to gauge how much of the tranquilizer each dog had eaten, though.
Doc Cretsinger said the pills should take fifteen to twenty minutes to put a dog to sleep--if the animal ingested enough for them to work.
As Link drifted by, he glanced at the opposite shor
e. Man, Vince was telling the truth when he said he had a great property. Link wondered where the boundaries of Vince’s land extended. What he saw from the river looked every bit as good as Vince’s description.
He rounded the S curve of the Brazos. When he was just out of sight of the compound, Link looked for a place to moor the small boat. Around the next bend he found a small beach with sloping bank on the compound side of the river. He tied the rope around a large cottonwood tree well up the slope. If rain caused the river to rise while he was away, the boat would be secure.
Even on a rainy, dark night, Link did not want to risk the bright yellow slicker he usually wore. Instead he pulled on an old windbreaker in the dark green of Cartersville High colors and, instead of his boots, he wore black running shoes. He pulled the hood of the windbreaker more securely over his head to prevent the drizzle from running down his neck.
In the windbreaker pocket he carried a small high-beam flashlight. With no light except the occasional show of the moon through the clouds, it was a slow walk to the compound.
Link tripped once, and went sprawling. Tree branches slapped at him as he pushed his way toward the compound. He refused to use the flashlight and hoped he wouldn’t need it. He considered it for emergency back up.
He paused at the edge of the clearing surrounding the mobile homes. No sound came from the compound. A glance at the luminous dial of his watch told him the tranquilizer-laced meat should now have the dogs snoozing. He pulled his jacket sleeve over the watch to hide the dial.
A light shone through the window of the center building. He inched his way until he was in line with that window. Damn, there at the back of the building sat the white van. That must mean Large was here and there were two men inside the mobile home.
With a giant clap of thunder followed by low rumbling, rain fell in earnest. No more moonlight shone, just the occasional glow as lightning streaked across the sky. Link needed no torch to see the white mobile homes. If the dogs were not asleep, they would certainly be alerted now, he thought, as he made a dash across the twenty feet of cleared land to crouch below the window.
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