Game of Bones

by Carolyn Haines

  Tinkie and I moved toward the first of the six tents. Sweetie Pie took a flanking movement on the left, and Pluto on the right. Chablis clung to us as Tinkie and I advanced down the center.

  The scene, silvered as it was by moonlight, was unnaturally still. A breeze kicked up and the fabric of the tents began to move softly. It wasn’t hard to imagine someone, or something, hiding behind a flap, waiting for the right moment to strike. Every ion of my survival instinct screamed at me to run—to step on anyone who got in the way of me getting off that mound and into my car and driving away.

  I watched the dogs and cat creep forward, and I stilled the impulse to run. Two women were dead. Coleman had been shot, and two deputies were missing. Tinkie, Cece, and I had been terrorized. If the answer to what was happening at Mound Salla would put an end to the violence, I was going to find the solution. I would not run. There was no such thing as a zombie.

  “The dead can’t return to life,” Tinkie said out loud, as if she sensed where my thoughts had gone.

  “Let’s do this.” I stepped into the first tent and shined my flashlight over the bedrolls, duffle bags, and general mess that people camping out acquired. The tent was empty of all living creatures.

  We moved on to the second tent. Pluto stood at the entrance and when I started inside, he caught my jeans with a sharp claw and held me in place. Tinkie ran into the back of me, but neither of us uttered a peep. Aware that Pluto was warning me of danger, I pushed the flap of the tent back and stepped inside. Tinkie peered around my shoulder.

  “Oh, no!” She whispered her dismay.

  Delane Goggans lay in the dirt in the middle of the tent. Her still body made me think she was dead, but I knelt beside her and felt for a pulse. There was a faint throb beneath my fingers. “She’s alive.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Tinkie whispered.

  I rolled her slightly so I could see her face, which was bloodless, but there were no signs of injury. “Delane.” I patted her cheek, hoping to wake her. “Delane.”

  She moaned softly but didn’t wake.

  “She’s been drugged.” Her skin was chill beneath my hand.

  Tinkie knelt down beside her, too, and put a palm on her face. “She’s too cold, Sarah Booth. I wonder how long she’s been laying here on the ground. It’s freezing. She was never at the bus station. When she called, she must have been here.”

  I grabbed a sleeping bag and put it over Delane. She looked like such a child. “We need to get her to the hospital.”

  “Yeah.” Tinkie snugged the covers up to Delane’s chin and tucked it around her. “What about DeWayne and Budgie?”

  “We have to call for help. If they’re up here and injured…”

  “Right.” She reached for her cell phone, but a noise from outside stopped us. It was Sweetie Pie growling deep in her throat. Beside me, Pluto arched his back, every hair on end. Chablis, who weighed five pounds, took a stance to guard the entrance.

  “Who’s out there?” Tinkie asked in a barely audible voice.

  I didn’t answer. I was too busy looking at the shadow the moon cast on the side of the tent. Someone was outside the tent. They stepped forward, dragging one leg behind, lurching and then stumbling. Primal fear blocked the scream in my throat.

  Tinkie and I clung together, hovering over the prone Delane. Sweetie Pie, Chablis, and Pluto took point, prepared to defend us to the death.

  The shadow moved along the tent, struggling. It looked an awful lot like a zombie shuffling about. I hated that my mind went there, but I couldn’t stop it. Tinkie gripped my hand so hard I thought she might break the bones in it. “What is that?” she asked.

  The thing stopped and turned to face the tent, as if it had heard Tinkie’s whisper. Or maybe it could smell us. I shook my head at Tinkie and put my finger to my lips. After a moment, it began to limp forward.

  We could see only the shadow, but the moon was bright enough that the creature’s actions were clear. I pulled out my cell phone and began filming. If something had happened to the cameras that we’d set up, at least we’d have proof. The creature lifted its face to the moon and I swear it was sniffing, like a dog on a scent.

  When it was at the back of the tent, I motioned Tinkie to move the flap aside. We had to make a run for it. Tinkie pointed at Delane. She was still unconscious and completely defenseless.

  “We’ll call reinforcements. We also need to find the deputies.” I was genuinely worried about DeWayne and Budgie. If anything happened to them—or anyone—Coleman would blame himself. We had to get out of there before we were trapped inside the tent. We’d be no help to anyone. And we needed backup. The entire Sunflower County sheriff’s office was out of commission. “We can call Junior at the bail bond office. He’ll get help here.”

  “And Doc.” Tinkie looked at Delane. “There’s something really wrong with her.”

  “She’s probably been drugged, but I don’t know what to do until we find out with what substance. So let’s go.” I put a hand on the tent flap and pulled it back. The limping, shuffling creature thing was at the back of the tent. Now was our chance to make a break for it. I grabbed Tinkie’s hand. “Let’s go!”

  We bolted out of the tent at full speed, only to meet with an unmoving obstacle. I hit someone hard and fell back into Tinkie. When I regained my footing, I saw Cooley Marsh standing as cool as could be.

  “What’s the rush?” he asked, and I knew we were in big trouble. In the strong moonlight, I finally saw the resemblance. His forehead and eyes, his nose, the line of his jaw—Cooley Marsh was indeed Carl Bailey, sister to the dead Bella and son to Sister Grace.

  “Hello, Carl,” I said. “What brings you out on such a fine night?”

  “So, you finally figured it out.”

  “I haven’t figured out how you could kill your own sister. But Bella wasn’t the first of your siblings to die because of something here at Mound Salla, was she?”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with Bella. You can’t pin that on me, either. I warned her to stay away. I did. She wouldn’t listen. She thought she was working with Dr. Wells, but I knew Wells would betray her at the first chance.”

  “So you killed Dr. Wells,” Tinkie said.

  Cooley shook his head. “You’re still in the dark.”

  “What are you doing up here?” I asked. “You’re digging for something.” I pointed toward the trench someone had dug with a backhoe. “Did you find anything?”

  “It’s not a good idea to be poking around here, ladies.” He held a gun loosely at his side. Tinkie had one tucked in the back of her belt and I put a hand on her to stop her from reaching for it.

  “Who do you work for, Carl?”

  “Now that’s the big question, isn’t it?” He was perfectly at ease, and the look in his eyes said he was no stranger to doing whatever was necessary. “Maybe I work for myself.”

  “Then you did kill Bella and Dr. Wells.” I could see he was following my logic.

  “I told you, I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “What did you give Delane? She’s been in the cold for too long. She needs medical attention.”

  “She’ll be fine. Those two yokel deputies, too.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They took a little tumble into the basement. Nosy parkers get their just deserts. Now you’re going down there, too. We’ll be finished here in another hour and gone.”

  “‘We’? Finished with what?” I asked.

  He chuckled softly. “If I told you I’d have to kill you. And you don’t want that, now, do you?” He motioned for us to move toward the area where the old Bailey house had stood.

  “Let us get Delane. We’ll take her with us. She’ll die of hypothermia if we don’t.” Tinkie stood her ground.

  “Well hurry up, then,” Carl said. “She won’t be the only one dead around here if you don’t get moving.”

  31

  Tinkie and I bundled Delane in the sleeping bag, where we also hid the gun
. Between us we got her to her feet and dragged her out of the tent. Carl/Cooley made no effort to help us. Delane wasn’t big, but she was dead weight and we struggled. As we made our way across the grounds, I looked for my cat and the dogs. They were AWOL, and I was glad they’d had sense enough to cut out. They might be the only help we could expect if Cooley locked us in the old basement.

  “Are DeWayne and Budgie hurt?” I asked Cooley.

  “They aren’t dead. They got some bumps and bruises, but nothing life-threatening. I told you before, I don’t have an interest in killing anyone.”

  I tamped down the impulse to try a roundhouse kick. “Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Do you really believe there’s something here so valuable it’s worth all of this?”

  “My whole life everyone’s taken what I should have gotten. I spent my childhood hunting for this treasure, but we never had the tools to really look. My dad couldn’t get the right equipment. We dug with our hands and shovels.” His bitterness was clear. “We just never had the money to do it right.” In the pale light of the moon, he grinned. “Jason was gonna dynamite the mound. He was gonna get that treasure. That’s when he and Brad got into it. End result was one dead brother and one still in prison.”

  Tinkie and I finally made it to the trapdoor. Cooley opened it.

  “Hey! Get us out of here.” DeWayne sounded okay. “Budgie is hurt. We need a doctor.”

  “It’s me and Tinkie,” I said. “We’re coming down with an unconscious woman.” I’d explain later. “Help me with her.” Tinkie and I managed to position her so we could lower her into DeWayne’s arms.

  “Get down there!” Cooley pushed at Tinkie and almost made her fall in. “Move!”

  “You’re going to pay for being such a—”

  I didn’t get to finish. He shoved me right on top of Tinkie. We both made it into the dark basement without breaking our necks—but just barely. The trapdoor slammed hard and I heard the bolt shoot home. We were prisoners.

  “Budgie is hurt pretty badly,” DeWayne said. “He broke his leg. The bone is sticking out.”

  Tinkie knelt beside Budgie, who now had the unconscious Delane beside him. “Try to keep her warm, Budgie. We’ll get out of this. Doc is only a phone call away.” She whipped out her phone.

  “No reception down here,” Budgie said, gasping a little from the pain as he talked.

  “Who knows you’re here?” DeWayne asked.

  “Coleman,” Tinkie and I said in unison. I added, “Don’t worry. When he can’t raise any of us, he’ll get help. He’ll call the Mississippi Bureau of Investigation, the state troopers, some of the other counties.”

  DeWayne eased me to the side. “Budgie has lost a lot of blood. He needs help now.”

  “As quickly as we can,” I promised.

  “Did you see anything … out there?” DeWayne asked.

  The way he phrased the question told me instantly what he was talking about. “I saw a shadow of something limping around the tents. Did you?”

  “Something.” He hesitated. “I swear, Sarah Booth. It didn’t move like it was human, but I didn’t get a good look. What did you see?”

  “I didn’t get a good look either. But I did clearly see Cooley Marsh, aka Carl Bailey, and he’s a lot more dangerous than something limping around in the moonlight.”

  “So Cooley is a Bailey. As was Bella Devareaux. And their mom is still in the area going by the name Sister Grace. What are they up to?”

  “Some kind of buried treasure,” I said.

  “An elixir,” Tinkie clarified. “If it even exists.”

  “Was the whole dig centered around this? Was Hafner in on it?”

  “I don’t know, but maybe Delane can answer that when she comes to.”

  “Right.” DeWayne took a deep breath. “I’m going to rig a lift so I can haul Budgie out of here the first chance we get. That winch and hook are still over by the dig site. We can use that and I’ll have him out of here in a blink. The girl, too, if she isn’t awake by then.”

  “I’d like to know what Cooley gave her to knock her out.” Budgie was using his own body to warm her up, but she wasn’t responding. Tinkie chaffed her hands and feet. My concerns for Delane were growing. “Do you know what he used?”

  “He didn’t say. I swear, it would be karma if there was some dead thing out there waiting to extract revenge on Cooley and everyone involved with him.” DeWayne was busy making a rope harness from some supplies he’d found in a corner.

  Delane moaned softly and began to thrash. Tinkie tried to soothe her but she seemed to be in pain—whether it was physical or some mental torment, I couldn’t say. “At least she’s moving,” I said, trying to be positive.

  “I don’t want her to convulse,” Tinkie said. “We’ve got to get her and Budgie out of here.”

  “I know.” I went up the stairs to the trapdoor and pushed hard. It was bolted. I’d seen the thumb bolt that held both sides of the exit closed. I banged on the wood. “Cooley, we have two injured people down here. You’re going to be responsible for their deaths if you don’t let us out.”

  There was no answer.

  I paced the enclosure for what seemed like an hour. Finally I found an old desk to sit on and stopped. “Did you see Peter Deerstalker or Frank Hafner up here?” I asked DeWayne.

  “Budgie and I were busy gathering the cameras, which that criminal Cooley Marsh took from us. We didn’t get a chance to check them out, either. And we didn’t see anyone else. I have no idea where Cooley came from. He was suddenly just there, a gun barrel poked in Budgie’s rib cage.” DeWayne shook his head. “That Bailey family just disappeared. I never thought to look for them or ask what had happened to them. Bad luck, bad decisions. I thought they’d packed up and moved on,” he said.

  Budgie was doing his best not to show pain. “Did Cooley, or Carl, say anything that might make you believe Deerstalker or Hafner is in on this scheme to find this elixir? Surely Cooley hasn’t been pursuing a fantasy elixir all these years.”

  “The archeological dig brought all of this back up,” I said. “There was a lot of publicity. My guess is that it didn’t take long for word to get back to the Bailey family members. I’m sure they felt if there was anything on that burial site worth anything, it belonged to them.”

  “Believing it doesn’t make it true,” Budgie said. “The treasure belongs to whoever leased the rights to excavate the property.”

  “And who would that be? Hafner?” I asked.

  “I didn’t get a chance to look,” Budgie said. “That’s what makes sense, unless it was one of his backers. They might have done the paperwork. We’ll check when we get out.”

  I climbed the stairs and pushed hard against the doors again. They were shut solid.

  “If we get out,” DeWayne said direly.

  I wanted to curse and ram the wooden blockade, but standing precariously on the top of the stairs I had no leverage. I was about to give up when I heard the soft sound of scratching.

  “Sweetie Pie?” I knew it was my dog. She had a keen ability to untie knots and I’d seen her and Pluto open doors and windows with skill. Could she slide the thumb bolt? “Sweetie Pie, help us.”

  More scratching ensued. I listened carefully and finally heard the screech of rusty metal against metal. Uttering a prayer, I pushed at the door. It opened an inch. Sweetie Pie had cleared the latch. “DeWayne!” I looked at Tinkie. “Give him the gun.”

  She didn’t argue but pulled it out of a deep fold in the sleeping bag. “I wish I had more bullets but the clip is fully loaded.”

  “That little bastard took our guns,” DeWayne said. He would be sore about that for a long time to come. “Let me get out and make sure it’s clear. Then you come out and we’ll haul out the sick ones.”

  “Our phones will work once we’re back on top.”

  “I don’t care if you call the paratroopers at Fort Benning. Just get everyone here,” DeWayne said.

  I wasn’t about to ar
gue. It really was time to call in reinforcements. Anyone who could possibly help.

  * * *

  The minute I was out of that dank basement, I put in a call to Coleman. When he didn’t answer, worry crashed over me like a tidal wave. Where could he be? I called Doc while Tinkie called the Washington County sheriff’s department at DeWayne’s instruction. Budgie and Delane remained in the basement. We had to move the winch and rig before we could get them out.

  “Doc, we need you at Mound Salla. It’s Budgie. He’s got a broken leg with the bone through the skin and Delane Goggans is out cold. Been that way for what looks like hours. I have no idea what drug she’s taken.”

  “Tell me Coleman isn’t there.” Doc sounded truly stressed.

  “He’s not here. He doesn’t know about any of this.”

  “He’s not at Dahlia House. Harold stopped by to visit and no one was there.”

  “When did Harold drop by?” Harold worked at the bank with Tinkie’s husband and he was a friend of both Coleman and me.

  “It’s been awhile. Harold said Coleman wasn’t on the property. He searched the barn, too.”

  All of this time, he’d been up and running around, doing everything he could to reopen his wound, which was why he wasn’t answering his phone. He was a devious piece of work. “Call the EMTs and come out here, please.”

  “You find Coleman. Sarah Booth, this could be serious.”

  “I know. I’ll find him.”

  Tinkie was watching my face as I put the phone away. “Coleman’s on the loose.”

  She nodded. “Then let’s get out of here.”

  “Doc and the EMTs are on the way.”

  We went to help DeWayne move the winch and tripod. It felt like it was made of cast iron and was much heavier than it looked. We were almost back to the basement with it when a bullet zinged into the ground at DeWayne’s feet.