Gold Dust
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GOLD DUST
The Seventh Red River Mystery
“[An] unlikely game of polecat-and-mouse...unfolds in a series of developments as preposterous as they are richly enjoyable. The result reads like a stranger-than-strange collaboration between Lee Child, handling the assault on the CIA with baleful directness, and Steven F. Havill, genially reporting on the regulars back home.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Readers nostalgic for this period—songs by the Monkees and Tommy James and the Shondells blast from transistor radios—will find plenty to like.”
—Publishers Weekly
UNRAVELED
The Sixth Red River Mystery
“Not only does Wortham write exceptionally well, but he somehow manages to infuse Unraveled with a Southern gothic feel that would make even William Faulkner proud…A hidden gem of a book that reads like Craig Johnson’s Longmire mysteries on steroids.”
—The Providence Journal
“This superbly drawn sixth entry in the series features captivating characters and an authentic Texas twang.”
—Library Journal
“Readers who hang on for 200-plus pages…will be treated to a stunning finale, first in an evil fun house, then on a long stretch of oil-slick highway.”
—Don Crinklaw, Booklist
“The book’s strength lies in Wortham’s ability to construct a world; it doesn’t take long for readers to feel like kinfolk.”
—Cevin Bryerman, Publishers Weekly
“The more I read of Reavis Wortham’s books, the more impressed I am by his abilities as a writer…His understanding of family feuds, how they start and how they hang on long past their expiration date, is vital to the story line. Wortham’s skill as a plotter is demonstrated as well. He’s very good at what he does, and his books are well worth reading.”
—Reviewing the Evidence
DARK PLACES
The Fifth Red River Mystery
Named one of the Top 10 Modern Westerns for 2016 by True West Magazine
Named one of the 12 Top Books for 2015 by Strand Magazine
Named one of the Best Small Fictions of 2015 by The Dallas Morning News
“Reavis Z. Wortham is the real thing: a literary voice that’s gut-bucket Americana delivered with a warm and knowing Texas twang.”
—CJ Box, #1 New York Times bestselling author of
the Joe Pickett series and Edgar Allan Poe Award-winner
“Replete with period details and a strong sense of place, this winning fifth series entry is as much a coming-of-age story as crime fiction. This series is comparable to Rick Riordan’s Tres Navarre or Joe Lansdale’s Hap Collins and Leonard Pine books.”
—Library Journal
“Readers will cheer for and ache with the good folks, and secondary characters hold their own….The novel’s short chapters fit both the fast pace and the deftly spare actions and details…the rhythm of Wortham’s writing, transporting us back in time, soon takes hold and is well worth the reader’s efforts.”
—Historical Novel Society
“Once again, Wortham supplies something for everyone—especially fans of summer movies who love chase sequences so much that they don’t care who’s chasing whom.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“A terrific suspense thriller that transports grateful fans to 1967 small-town Texas and Route 66. The Parker brood has their hands filled between corralling the runaways, and capturing a vehicular homicide killer and the businessmen murderers. Aptly named Dark Places, this is a superb period piece.”
—Midwest Book Review
VENGEANCE IS MINE
The Fourth Red River Mystery
Named one of the Top 5 Modern Westerns by True West Magazine
“Reavis Wortham doubles down in Vengeance is Mine, the fourth in his Red River Series, and for mystery readers it’s a Full House when Las Vegas intrigue invades Center Springs, Texas. Aces High, Constables Ned, Cody Parker and company are terrific riding and reading partners.”
—Craig Johnson, New York Times bestselling author of the
Walt Longmire series that inspired the hit TV series Longmire
“Reavis Z. Wortham’s Vengeance Is Mine is a winning and unusual book. Equal parts small-town tale and thriller, the combination is both entertaining and emotionally engaging. Wortham is at his best in the small Texas town of Center Springs, where this and his three other Red River Mysteries are set. The small-town characters carry the day but Wortham hits his thriller marks too, and the result is a solid and humane story.”
—T. Jefferson Parker, New York Times bestselling author
and winner of three Edgar Allan Poe Awards
“Loaded with healthy doses of humor, adventure, and intrigue, populated by a remarkable cast of characters both good and bad and featuring one heck of an electrifying climax is a throwback to the pulp era in the best possible sense. A great read.”
—Owen Laukkanen, bestselling author
“This very entertaining novel, set in 1967, is reminiscent of Donald E. Westlake’s Mob comedies The Fugitive Pigeon (1965) and The Busy Body (1966), which, like this book, feature offbeat characters getting themselves into offbeat situations—although this book also has a more serious side, too….”
—David Pitt, Booklist Starred Review
“Wortham is a masterful and entertaining storyteller. Set in East Texas in 1967, Vengeance is Mine is equal parts Joe R. Lansdale and Harper Lee, with a touch of Elmore Leonard.”
—Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine
THE RIGHT SIDE OF WRONG
The Third Red River Mystery
“A sleeper that deserves wider attention.”
—The New York Times
“A gritty, dark, and suspenseful Western with a final explosive showdown that kept me turning the pages late into the night to see who would survive.”
—Jamie Freveletti, internationally bestselling author
“Wortham’s third entry in his addictive Texas procedurals set in the 1960s is a deceptively meandering tale of family and country life bookended by a dramatic opening and conclusion. C.J. Box fans would like this title.”
—Library Journal Starred Review
“Top is an endearing narrator, full of childlike wonder, which is gradually being diluted by the realities of the adult world. In that sense, the novel may remind readers of Joe Lansdale’s superb The Bottoms (2000). A very good mystery that will also transport readers to a different era.”
—Wes Lukowski, Booklist
BURROWS
The Second Red River Mystery
“The cinematic characters have substance and style. They walk off the page and talk Texas.”
—The Dallas Morning News
“Wortham’s outstanding sequel to The Rock Hole...combines the gonzo sensibility of Joe R. Lansdale and the elegiac mood of To Kill a Mockingbird to strike just the right balance between childhood innocence and adult horror.”
—Publishers Weekly Starred Review
“As in Ned’s debut (The Rock Hole), his grandchildren, Top and Pepper, are on hand to provide welcome humor and lend perspective to the acutely and unobtrusively observed small-town landscape. The result is that rare bird, a mystery with something for everyone.”
—Kirkus Reviews Starred Review
THE ROCK HOLE
The First Red River Mystery
Named one of the Top 12 Mysteries of 2011 by Kirkus Reviews
Finalist in the Benjamin Franklin Awards (Mystery)
“An unpretentious gem written to the hilt and harrowing in its unpredictability.”
/> —Kirkus Reviews
“Throughout, scenes of hunting, farming, and family life sizzle with detail and immediacy. The dialog is spicy with country humor and color, and Wortham knows how to keep his story moving. The Rock Hole is an unnerving but fascinating read.”
—Historical Novel Society
Gold Dust
A Red River Mystery
Reavis Z. Wortham
Poisoned Pen Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by Reavis Z. Wortham
First Edition 2018
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018935803
ISBN: 9781464209611 Hardcover
ISBN: 9781464209635 Trade Paperback
ISBN: 9781464209642 Ebook
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
Poisoned Pen Press
4014 N. Goldwater Blvd., #201
Scottsdale, AZ 85251
www.poisonedpenpress.com
info@poisonedpenpress.com
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
Gold Dust
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
Chapter Fifty-two
Chapter Fifty-three
Chapter Fifty-four
Chapter Fifty-five
Chapter Fifty-six
Chapter Fifty-seven
Chapter Fifty-eight
Chapter Fifty-nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-one
Chapter Sixty-two
Chapter Sixty-three
Chapter Sixty-four
Chapter Sixty-five
Chapter Sixty-six
Chapter Sixty-seven
Chapter Sixty-eight
Chapter Sixty-nine
Chapter Seventy
Chapter Seventy-one
Chapter Seventy-two
Chapter Seventy-three
Chapter Seventy-four
Chapter Seventy-five
Chapter Seventy-six
Chapter Seventy-seven
Chapter Seventy-eight
Chapter Seventy-nine
Chapter Eighty
Chapter Eighty-one
Chapter Eighty-two
Chapter Eighty-three
Chapter Eighty-four
Chapter Eighty-five
Chapter Eighty-six
Chapter Eighty-seven
Chapter Eighty-eight
Chapter Eighty-nine
Chapter Ninety
Chapter Ninety-one
Chapter Ninety-two
More from this Author
Contact Us
Dedication
This one is for Robert Reynolds, my father-in-law,
who once told me that he always looks forward to the next Red River novel
so he can catch up with the Parkers who are like family.
You can’t ask for a better endorsement than that.
Thanks for everything, Grandpa.
Acknowledgments
I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the love of my life, my bride Shana. She puts up with more than any woman should out of this guy who’s still a kid inside.
Others helped in the creation of these books. The idea of lost gold in Palmer Lake came from a friend I’ve never met, Dan Dancer. He’s a fan of my work, and was raised in Chicota, Texas, which was once Center Springs. Dan sent an email that sparked one of the plots in this novel.
My old friend and former editor, Steve Brigman, suggested the Missouri setting for the climax and changed the direction of the novel in midstream. It worked well, Steve, and I look forward to casting a fly for McCloud trout with you sometime in the near future.
Much is always owed to John Gilstrap, who continues to be a mentor and brother from another mother. He is always there for me, and I look forward to many more real life adventures with this outstanding author. We’ve already had quite a few.
Thanks also to the authors who lend their names to my books. I’m afraid I’d forget someone if I try to list everyone, but their generosity, support, and friendship is overwhelming.
My editor at Poisoned Pen, Annette Rogers, was the first person to see the potential in my work. Instead of making The Rock Hole a standalone novel, she offered me a series. It was completely unexpected and welcome. Barbara Peters and Robert Rosenwald, the owners and publishers of Poisoned Pen Press, have championed my work from the beginning, and that support has led to the success of the Red River series. Thanks to all y’all at the Big PPP, for working so hard on my behalf.
My exemplary agent, Anne Hawkins of John Hawkins and Associates, has shown guidance and friendship since I was blowing in the wind, and she continues to believe in my work. I think I’d be back at square one without her.
And to all my readers, from my newspaper columns, to the magazine articles I pen, to all my novels, much obliged.
Chapter One
The Devil was beating his wife when the rusty green cattle trailer backed through an assortment of oak, pecan, elm, and hackberry trees surrounding a warped and sun-splintered catch pen. The rough gray corral full of bawling cattle almost disappeared in the shadows despite the rain cloud moving quickly to the east. The loading chute was rickety at best. The odor of wet dust, crushed milkweeds, and cowshit filled the air.
Nervous cattle bawled as two hard-looking men ignored the brief shower falling in the sunshine and herded them with whoops and hollers up the wooden ramp and into the trailer hitched to a two-toned blue and white Ford truck. The mama cows wore brands, but the red white-face calves and more than a few heifers were unmarked.
The current hit “Harper Valley PTA” came through the pickup’s open windows.
The men were halfway finished loading them when a green 1955 International pickup turned off the highway and crunched to a stop on the red gravel turnout at the gate. A slender, slow-moving farmer in a sweat-stained straw cowboy hat shoved the cranky door open with his shoulder and stepped out to wrestle aside the limp wi
re gate. He grunted at a sharp pain in his back that was iffy, even on good days.
The long shadows of the surrounding hardwoods almost prevented the landowner from seeing the trailer a hundred yards away. The glittering shower focused most of his attention on the streaked windshield made worse by wiper blades baked hard as a rock by the northeast Texas sun.
The front chrome bumper of the unfamiliar two-toned truck caught his eye through the open window. The farmer frowned at the sight, turned the wheel, and cut through the bitterweeds, throwing debris and tiny grasshoppers into the air and across his unpolished hood.
He killed the International’s engine twenty yards from the catch pen and popped the door open, sitting half-in and half-out to study the scene. The men working the cattle stopped, as if expecting what came next.
Coming to a decision, the farmer de-trucked and stuck both hands into the pockets of his overalls. “Hey, fellers. What are y’all doing?” His voice rose above the bawling cattle and wavered, either in fear or anger.
A man, dark-complected under a cracked and battered straw hat, climbed over the corral. His shaggy, greasy brown hair hung limp over large ears that looked like the open doors of a Buick.
A redhead in a faded, thin plaid cowboy shirt stretched tight across a bulging belly lit a cigarette and rested his forearms over the top sun-dried board to watch. He unconsciously rubbed the edges of untrimmed fingernails crusted with dirt against each other.