We all paused, letting that sink in.
"You think he'd try to kill you? Your own brother?" I finally asked, incredulous.
"You don't know Buck. And it's a whole lot of gold, Cass. He says you can't even imagine it. Anyway, I'm gonna go up there tomorrow and see for myself. If I don't make it back, at least someone will know what happened."
"You want us to come with you?" Erica asked.
Bart laughed. "No way. Buck would kill me for sure if I brought someone else up there. He's the only living soul who knows where the gold is and he wants to keep it that way. I'll talk to you in a couple of days. Hopefully by then, I'll be a whole lot richer."
When he left, Erica let out a gargantuan sigh. "I don't trust that Buck as far as I could throw him," she said, speaking clearly for the microphone. "What do you want to bet he's making this whole thing up to fool Bart?"
"I guess we'll know in a few days. Bart will either be rich or heartbroken."
"Or dead," she said.
"Yeah, or that. Come on. Let's go to bed."
We made a big show of turning out lights, then snuck out of the house and hurried back to my place to check the action at the Cathwaites'. We wanted to know it the moment someone decided to check the camera hidden at Erica's. But the Cathwaite's game room was dark and silent, so we turned the volume up on my television and fell asleep in the living room, hoping the sound of voices in Cathwaite's game room would wake us. If no one checked, we knew we had just put on our little show for nothing.
But early the next morning, just as I was getting ready to shower, Professor Cathwaite came through. Erica heard the noise first and called me to come quickly.
"He's checking the monitors!" she said. Using a remote, Cathwaite clicked on one VCR after another, keeping tabs on the various games in session. We could not see the big-screen television — as our camera was hidden beneath the TV — but when the sound of Bart's voice came over the speaker, Erica shouted "Yes!"
"He's falling for it," I said, keeping my fingers crossed. We watched as Cathwaite rewound the tape to the beginning and replayed the whole scene. Then he stuck his head out the door and yelled for Ginny and Guy to get in there.
"I think Newt's about to get in big trouble," I said.
"What are you screaming about?" Ginny Cathwaite demanded, coming in wearing a chenille robe, her short hair still wet from the shower.
"Something you need to see. Where's Guy?"
"How should I know?"
"Right behind you, brother-in-law. What's up?"
"Guy's her brother?" Erica asked.
I shrugged, not wanting to talk over their voices.
"Listen to this," Cathwaite said, using the remote. Suddenly, our voices filled the speaker. It was eerie, I thought. We were watching them on my TV as they watched a tape of us on theirs. When it got to the part where Bart said Newt had paid him to play a joke on the professor, Ginny went livid, but the professor hissed at her to be quiet until the tape was over. When Bart made his exit, Cathwaite used the remote to stop the tape.
"That miserable fucking pig!" she spit. "He's not only a fuckup, he's fucking with us!" She was talking, of course, about Newt.
"It doesn't make sense," Guy said. "Why would Newt bet on us?"
The professor was shaking his head. "Should've seen it coming. We need to call a meeting."
"Now? On a Monday morning? What about work?"
"Right now. I don't give a damn about anyone's work schedule. Make it for ten o'clock. Mandatory."
"And invite Newt?"
"By all means. Definitely invite Newt."
"What about the gold? You think Buck really found something?"
"That's why we're calling the meeting. We'll deal with that pissant, Newt, later."
"Hot damn!" I said, dancing around the living room like a kid. I raced to the phone and called Bart.
"We're on!" I said.
"Yes!" he shouted into the receiver. "Buck, we're on! Let's go!"
Then I made another phone call, one I'd been dreading. Rosie answered the phone, then put Booker on.
"I'm not talking to you," he said.
"Don't blame you. But you're gonna want to kiss my feet by the time this day is over."
"I doubt it. Why?"
"If I asked you to do something really weird, I mean really really weird, and I asked you to trust me that it would work out, would you do it?"
"Hell no. I can't even trust you to be straight with me! Sending me off on a wild goose chase while you and Erica work behind my back. You think I don't know you're up to something?"
"Tom. I would never hold something back from you unless I had a really good reason."
"Like what?"
"Are you sitting down?" I waited, knowing Booker was fuming. I took a deep breath and let it out. "Like your deputy being the one who tried to kill Tommy," I finally blurted.
"What? Newt?"
I didn't answer right away. I just let it sink in.
"You better talk to me, girl."
"I'm gonna let Newt explain it himself. But not right this second. First you gotta do me this one favor. I've got a list of people I'd like to call, on your behalf, and invite over to the town hall today at noon. I'd like your permission to say that there's a matter of grave concern and everyone should be there."
"How many people on this list, Cass?"
"Quite a few. A lot, actually. If they all come, we'll fill the place."
"And I suppose Newt's going to be at this meeting you're calling on my behalf?"
"Oh, yeah. Newt and some of his nearest and dearest friends."
It took me another half-hour to convince Booker. I ended up having to tell him everything and when I did, he understood why I needed to attempt this in public. He didn't like it. He called me unflattering names. But in the end, he agreed to phone a few of the more important ones himself and wished me luck with the others. I told him to hold off on calling the gaming club members until just before noon. I wanted to make sure they had their appointment at the Cathwaites' before they got the call.
Erica stood guard over the television, watching for any movement at the Cathwaites' and looking up numbers for me while I made the calls. After the first few, I had my spiel down to an art. I told them just enough to pique their curiosity, knowing they'd come for that if for no other reason. I'd picked noon because I figured those with traditional jobs could break away on their lunch hour. When the banker's wife told me she didn't think she could make it, I told her if she didn't she'd probably have to wait for the recap on the news that night. That got her attention and she vowed to change her hair appointment if she could.
The pastor at Hawk's church was another reluctant participant, but I promised him he'd never regret it. The Cedar Hills PTA board had no idea why they were being invited, but they all accepted. I invited Mrs. Peters, the town librarian, and Tommy's mother and aunt, Gus Townsend, the mailman, just about everyone I could think of who might care. Even the dean of Kings Harbor Community College said he'd try to make it, when I told him it concerned two of his faculty members. I called Martha last and was surprised to find that she was expecting my call.
"Booker told me," she said. "You really think this is going to work?"
Truthfully, I wasn't sure and told her so.
She chuckled. "That's what I love about you, kiddo. You convince everyone else that you've got the whole thing under control, when the whole time you're doubting yourself. God, I'd hate to see how dangerous you'd be if you ever believed in yourself."
"I don't have time for a lecture, Martha. Will you be there?"
"Are you kidding? You think I'd miss the Cassidy James version of Candid Camera? Of course I'll be there. With bells on."
"Skip the bells, Mart. Just bring your gun."
"I'll be there, babe. You just watch out for yourself."
By the time I'd finished talking, my ear felt like it would fall off, but the town was buzzing with anticipation over the unprecedented noon meeting.
Erica was standing in front of the television watching the Cathwaite's game room. "They're all there," she said, waving me over. "They've been watching the camera on Rainbow Ridge for the last half-hour and from what I can tell, Buck just came into view, hauling empty sacks up the road. They're definitely buying this, babe." I liked the way that sounded. Babe. I smiled at Erica, knowing there'd be time later to tell her how I felt. I checked the tape twice to make sure it was working properly and sat back to watch the gaming club's final meeting.
Chapter Twenty
Not only had the people we'd called shown up, but quite a few we hadn't invited apparently heard about the meeting and came, too. It had been a rush to get everything set up and I was so nervous, my stomach was growling.
"I told you we should've eaten something," Erica teased.
"Later," I said. "You can take me to the Sea Urchin's and feed me Maine lobster."
"That's not where I'm taking you first," she said, giving me that smile that made my heart melt.
Booker came over, looking more nervous than I was. "Haven't seen the professor yet," he said.
"They just came in. I'm afraid they might bolt when they figure out what's happening."
"I'll be standing by the door. Anyone trying to bolt has to get past me. I just hope Newt doesn't try something stupid."
"Actually, that's what I'm counting on. Speak of the devil," I said, pointing my chin toward the back of the room.
Newt sauntered in, looked around the room with sleepy eyes until he spotted Booker, then walked over. "Hey, Sheriff. What's up? You got the whole damn town riled up. There gonna be a war or something? Someone drop a bomb? Maybe a meteor heading right for Cedar Hills? I'm surprised you didn't invite the media."
Actually, we had. But they'd promised to lay low until we gave them the signal.
"Something like that," Booker said. "Have a seat, Newt. I may need you later, so stick around."
"Whatever." He shrugged, straightened the brim of his Stetson and took a seat in the back of the room.
"Well, I guess this is it, then," Booker said. "I counted seven."
"Same here. Let's do it."
We walked together to the podium and Booker called the meeting to order. Just then, the door opened and Bart and Buck Bailey slipped in with Lizzie Thompson, joining Erica against the back wall.
"I want to thank all of you for coming out on such short notice. I know there's a lot of concern about what this is all about. I'm going to let my friend Cassidy James here explain it to you. I just ask that everyone remain seated until we're finished, and then, if there's any questions, we'll take them at that time. Cass?"
I moved to the mike and cleared my throat. "I was afraid someone might try to stop me from finishing, so I hope you don't mind, but I taped what I wanted to say. I hope you won't let anyone stop you from seeing it through to the end." I turned on the VCR and the two televisions in the front of the room came on, showing me in close-up. My voice sounded funny to me, and I could tell I'd been nervous during the taping. I moved to the side of the room and watched the gathered crowd as they listened to my speech.
"As some of you know, someone tried to kill my friend Tommy Green at the county park last Sunday. Tommy's still in a coma and the person who tried to kill him is sitting in this room."
I'd expected gasps of alarm, but the room grew totally silent. I watched Newt's blank expression for some sign that he knew he was in trouble but I had to give him credit. His face was a mask of calm.
"In the last few days I've learned some things that I find both shocking and repugnant. Some of you in this room have been the unwitting victims of harassment. You don't know it though, because the people doing this get their jollies from spying on you in places you think are private. They're not just spying, though. They're setting you up. Have you ever found money just lying around and wondered what you should do with it?" I glanced over at the bank clerk who'd taken Stickwell's bait. She wasn't the only one glued to what I was saying. "How would you feel, knowing that the money had been left there on purpose and that a group of people were betting on what you'd do with it?"
I watched Stickwell squirm in his chair, and he glanced over at Hawk who was sitting a few feet away. Hawk gave a slight shrug, then looked over his shoulder at the Cathwaites, but the video went right on.
"Ever have someone spread vicious rumors about you or a colleague? Bet you didn't know that the people who started the rumor were also betting on how you'd handle yourself. These people have set a fire in a public place just so they could bet on whether the victims would respond bravely or with cowardice. All in fun, mind you. Just a friendly little game among pals. Except innocent people have been getting hurt. And now one of them may die. Well, more than one. But let me show you what I mean."
The screen went blank for a second and I took the opportunity to study the players. Guy Waddell had stood up and was moving to the back of the room. Hawk, too, was on the edge of his seat. Suddenly the camera zoomed in on the Cathwaites' gaming room. Ginny Cathwaite let out a tiny gasp. They were all there, the seven of them sitting around the mahogany table. I'd edited it as best I could, keeping only what was pertinent. I glanced at the professor, whose face had gone deathly pale. Beside him, Ginny looked ready to kill, but neither one moved. Their gazes were glued to the television like everyone else's.
Suddenly, Stickwell leaped to his feet. "Now just a minute!" he bellowed. "You turn that idiotic machine off. I've heard just about enough of this nonsense!"
"Be quiet!" someone hissed.
"Sit down and shut up!" someone else snarled.
"Yes, sit down," Stickwell's wife said. "I want to hear this." To my amazement, Stickwell slunk back down in his chair and stared at the screen. Cathwaite had started to get up too, but Booker tapped his holster and shook his head, a silent warning that made the professor sit back down and watch the unfolding scene in his gaming room with everyone else.
"You think it's possible the kid really found the gold?" Kip Cage was asking on-screen, stroking his white beard. He chuckled. "I'll be damned. This game gets better and better."
"They're going up there tomorrow," Guy said.
"Maybe we can beat them up there, take it ourselves," Stickwell said.
"We don't know how to find it," Cathwaite said. "We'll have to let Buck lead us to it."
"And do what with Buck?" Newt Hancock asked. "He's not exactly going to invite us to share the wealth."
"Do what you do best, Newt. Same thing you did to the Green kid." Ginny Cathwaite's voice was laced with sarcasm. She could barely contain her anger over Newt's supposed deception.
"Shit. I don't have to put up with that," Newt said, pushing back his chair.
"Sit down, Newt," Cathwaite said. "What my lovely wife means is, if it comes to that, you'd be the best one for the job."
"What with your experience," Guy threw in.
"You all don't let up, do you? I told you. I did it to protect us. He was onto the game."
"You thought he was onto the game. He wasn't onto shit!" Ginny said.
"Now, now," the professor cooed. "Let's all just simmer down. The thing is, does anyone see a way of getting at this gold without taking the punk out?"
"What about the brother? The redhead?" Kip Cage asked. "And those two gals?"
Originally the line had been "those two gals we so enjoyed watching last night," but I'd cut that part out.
"Those two already think that Buckie boy might off his brother. If they both end up dead, it'll just look like a little sibling rivalry ended in a shootout."
"But won't they wonder where the gold is?" Hawk asked, chomping on an unlit cigar.
"So, let them wonder. One of them's already convinced that Buck's just putting his brother on. Maybe he was and the redhead gets ticked, pulls his gun and bang! They off each other!"
The professor was nodding. "I can see that. But it will take at least two of us to do the shooting. Then, more to carry the load down. You saw the sacks. The
re must be a truckload of gold up there."
"I'll go," Ginny Cathwaite said. "Me and Newt. We're the best shots, anyway."
Her husband looked at her, then nodded. "That okay with you, Newt?"
"Yeah. What the hell? We splitting it even, seven ways? Or do me and Ginny get a bigger share?"
"What's fair?" Cathwaite asked the table. Stickwell took out his calculator and punched numbers.
"It would help if we knew how much there was."
I'd fast-forwarded through the next part because they got long-winded, worrying over percentages.
When they came back on, only Cathwaite, his wife and Guy were in the room.
"You're gonna take out Newt, aren't you?" Guy asked. "That's why you volunteered."
"Unless you want to do it, Guy," Ginny said. "I was afraid you'd chicken out. He's gotta go. Don't tell me you don't agree."
"Oh, no. I definitely agree. You sure you can handle it?"
"I handled dear old Daddy, didn't I?"
And that was the end of the tape. I hit the off button and Booker turned on the lights in the back of the room, making people blink. Newt was on his feet, as were both Cathwaites and Guy. The banker, Cage and Hawk were still seated, but the people closest to them were staring at them, aghast.
Booker's voice broke the deafening silence. "Guess you owe Cassidy a big ol' thank you, Newt. Looks like she just saved your sorry little life."
Newt, for the first time since I'd met him, looked fully awake. His eyes darted from Booker to the Cathwaites, figuring the odds.
"You bitch!" I heard someone yell. It was one of the PTA women. She had climbed onto her chair and was pointing at Ginny Cathwaite. Before anyone could stop her, she took off her shoe and hurled it at Ginny, hitting her squarely on the nose which trickled blood. Ginny clutched her nose, her eyes suddenly rabid.
"You stupid bastard," she hissed, taking a step toward Newt.
"Me? I didn't do anything!"
"You've ruined everything!" Before her husband could restrain her, Ginny Cathwaite lunged at Newt, raking her red fingernails down his cheek and throat, drawing blood. Moving quicker than I thought he was capable of, Newt backhanded her, sending her sprawling across the floor. By now, the whole room was in chaos, the crowd on its feet, moving away from the action, eyeing those in the fray.
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