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Game of Bones

Page 29

by Carolyn Haines


  A surgical specialist had arrived from Memphis and two other surgeons had come up from Jackson to set Budgie’s leg and patch the wound in Elton Cade’s shoulder. Not a single person questioned me about the goose-egg knot on the side of his head where I’d kicked him.

  Budgie was in surgery getting his leg set, and Delane was still unconscious but was showing signs of waking. Doc’s examination showed she would not be harmed by the drug.

  Cooley Marsh was still missing. At last Frank Hafner arrived and was sitting with Delane. Watching the way he stroked her face, I believed what Delane had said. He truly loved her.

  Kawania Laveau was in the waiting room with Peter Deerstalker and Lolly Cade. I didn’t know where their allegiances might lie now, but they were staying the course until the case could be closed. The other students had gone—back to school or simply away from danger and unhappiness.

  DeWayne entered the waiting room and signaled for me to meet him in the hall. Cece and Tinkie were reluctant to let me go, but I stepped free of them.

  “I took Sweetie Pie, Chablis, and Pluto home. Fed the horses and gave the dogs and cat some kibble.”

  “Thank you, DeWayne.” I spoke automatically.

  “Yeah, well, they weren’t too happy with the menu but I told them you’d be home with Coleman to make it up to them.”

  I’d held rigid control for so long, and his tender words were nearly my undoing. “Thank you.”

  “I found that thing you shot. You know, the Sandra Wells look-alike. By the way, it was a perfect shot, Sarah Booth.” He tried for a grin but failed. “That robotic zombie. It’s all plastic. Nothing to do with a human body. Elton made it to scare people away from the dig. Late at night, when all the students were gone, Elton was going up to the dig to search for the vial. He needed privacy to do that.”

  “And Hafner is innocent of all wrongdoing?”

  “So it would seem. Elton has confessed to everything.”

  “Frank and Peter are completely innocent.”

  “They are.” DeWayne put a hand on my shoulder. “And there’s another bit of good news. The Washington County sheriff’s department picked up Cooley Marsh on the highway headed south. He’ll be going away for a long time. He was the one who called to lure Peter and Cece up on Winterville Mound. He meant to kill Cece and set Peter up for it. Get rid of both of them. That was his idea, not Elton Cade’s.”

  I nodded. “Thanks for telling me.”

  DeWayne sensed my burden of worry. He put an arm around my shoulders. “I’ve never seen the sheriff as happy as he’s been the last few weeks. Don’t give up on Coleman. He’s a fighter.”

  “He shouldn’t have been at Mound Salla. I should have been home with him.”

  “If you’d been at Dahlia House, you couldn’t have stopped him. Coleman would have been at Mound Salla no matter what. You know that, Sarah Booth. Everyone else knows it, too.”

  “Why did Elton shoot Coleman? Couldn’t he have just slipped down the back side of the mound and run for it? He’d recovered the vial. All he had to do was run.” I was having difficulty grasping Elton’s actions once it was clear he was going to be caught.

  “He had that elixir, and he believed it would cure his son. He was only intent on getting home to give it to his son.”

  “Damn.” I didn’t want to ask, but I had to. “What’s wrong with Elton’s son?”

  “It’s some autoimmune issue. His body is attacking itself. It’s progressive and incurable. The boy won’t be able to walk or talk in another six months.”

  I didn’t want to feel sorry for Elton Cade, but I did. I still blamed him for his actions, but I also understood his desperation.

  I looked down the hallway to see Doc coming straight for me. His stride was long and purposeful, and he zeroed in on me. I held my breath when he drew abreast of me. “What?” I whispered.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Doc said. “It’s not possible, what I saw. It’s not possible but it’s happened nonetheless.”

  “What?” I grasped his arm. “Is he alive?”

  “Oh, he’s alive,” Doc said. “Amazingly alive. We got into his abdomen and I was sure his liver had been blown to smithereens. The hole, the bleeding, there’s no way he should be alive. But he is.”

  “He isn’t going to die?”

  “No, he’s not. Unless he disobeys me again and then I might have to kill him myself.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “You can sit with him in recovery, as long as you don’t mess with him.” Doc rumpled my hair like he used to do when I was six. “Go on. The nurse will show you where he is. He should be awake in a bit.”

  I didn’t need a second invitation. I was down the hall like a shot. When I turned the corner into the surgical ward, a nurse flagged me to the recovery room. I stepped inside and felt my heart pumping hard. Coleman looked dead. He was pale, his lips blue. But his chest moved up and down. I took a seat beside his bed and captured his hand. As long as I could hold on to him, could feel him alive and getting better with each passing second, I would not ask for any more miracles.

  32

  Coleman sat propped in the bed, the sun coming in through my gauzy bedroom curtains. He’d been home for two days, healing with amazing speed. I put a tray of country fried eggs, bacon, and biscuits on his lap. “Millie brought the biscuits. She was afraid if you ate mine they would kill you.”

  “Gotta love a woman who knows true danger when she sees it.”

  I didn’t care that he teased me about my biscuits. I was just glad he was alive and able to tease. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good. Actually great. Doc said I’m healing ten times faster than anyone should.” Coleman reached for my hand and held it firmly. “He said I should be dead, Sarah Booth. He said you gave me some kind of ancient elixir.”

  “It could have killed you.”

  “I was dying.” He pressed the palm of my hand to his lips. “I could only think of one thing—that I didn’t want to leave you. That I wouldn’t do that to you, or to myself. When I felt myself slipping away into that warm place filled with light, I came back to you.”

  I didn’t want to cry. I hated crying, especially in front of people. But the tears slipped down my cheeks. “If you’d left me, I would have killed you.”

  Coleman laughed. “No doubt. You would have revived me just to have the pleasure of sending me to the Great Beyond. Doc said he didn’t know what you gave me but that he wants more of it.”

  “The truth is, no one can say that it did a thing to heal you.” I’d been over this with Doc and everyone else. I might have given him rainwater, for all I knew. Doc was running tests on the empty vial, but so far he’d had no luck identifying what was in it, only that it was organic.

  “Doc believes it was a miracle.” Coleman held me with his gaze. “Elton killed two people and was willing to kill more to get that elixir for his son. You gave it to me.”

  “And I would do the same again. He shot you. His actions resulted in my behavior. I’m sorry for his son, for the horror of what’s happening to a really good kid. Too bad we don’t have any more elixir.”

  “You gave it all to me.”

  “I did.”

  “I owe you my life. Doc said my liver should never have recovered, but it did. I should have died on top of Mound Salla, Sarah Booth. He has no explanation for it.”

  “Okay, I saved your life.” I forced a teasing note into my voice to hide the fact that my heart pounded painfully in my chest. “Oh, you are going to owe me big-time. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  “And that’s one debt I’ll gladly pay.” Coleman tugged my hand gently until I leaned down and kissed him. Really kissed him, all too aware of how close I’d come to losing him forever.

  * * *

  While Coleman napped, I went out on the front porch with a cup of coffee, Sweetie Pie, and Pluto. The black cat stretched in a sunny spot, and Sweetie Pie sat at my feet on the steps. The coffee was black and strong, and I
sipped it slowly, thinking about how close I’d come to tragedy yet again.

  My friends had come and gone, making sure Coleman was on the mend and I was giving him the care he needed. Budgie was still in the hospital, but his leg would mend, good as new. Delane Goggans had awakened with Frank Hafner by her side. He’d proposed to her while she was still in the hospital.

  Peter Deerstalker was holding a press conference at one o’clock to announce that the dig had been stopped and Mound Salla transferred over to the Biloxi-Tunica tribe’s care. Perhaps it would one day be explored. Maybe not. It was up to the descendants of the people buried there.

  My cell phone rang and it was Tinkie. “Hello.”

  “They found Sandra Wells’ body.”

  I’d forgotten all about the missing corpse. Since I’d “killed” Elton’s robotic Dr. Wells, I’d put aside all thought of her and her missing body. “Where?”

  “In the barn at Elton Cade’s. He’d been working on robots for a while. Another game or adventure experience he was re-creating in his toy empire. Elton confessed that he took Sandra’s body so folks would be afraid.”

  “Why wouldn’t Elton just say what he was looking for? Things could have gone so differently. The elixir would have been found and perhaps it could have been duplicated.”

  “I know.” Tinkie sounded pensive. “I understand how desperate he was. I mean … his son.”

  Something in Tinkie’s voice stopped me cold. “Are you okay?”

  “Never better.” She sighed. “I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you, but I need to get this done.”

  “What?” Fear hit me hard.

  “I’m late. I haven’t checked yet and I’m not going to be crazy and go buy a bunch of pregnancy kits. It’s only been a few weeks. I feel different, though. I think I’m pregnant.”

  I wished she were sitting on the porch with me, but I figured it would be easier for her over the phone. This was such a big dream. “What does Doc—”

  “I haven’t told him or anyone. Just you. I know you’re skeptical of magic, but what happened with Coleman is … a miracle. He should be dead. Everyone knows that. But he isn’t, and I think it wasn’t because of some elixir that no one can identify. I think your love healed him. Maybe my love for a child will be my elixir.”

  Life or fate or help from the Great Beyond—I didn’t know where it came from—had given me another chance at a life with Coleman, and I was not going to step on Tinkie’s dream. “I hope you’re pregnant with twins.” I meant every word of it.

  “Thank you. Now tend to that man. Millie and I are bringing some supper over tonight so we can all catch up. See ya soon.”

  And she was gone. Tinkie wouldn’t tell Oscar or anyone else what she’d shared with me. Too much was at stake for her. And I would honor her by keeping my silence.

  Sweetie Pie rose slowly from her reclining position and pointed her nose down the driveway. She gave a soft “woof” of welcome at an approaching figure that instantly captivated me. The woman was slender, and she wore a cloche on her head, a big coat with wide shoulders and a fur collar—fake, I hoped. She was very young, maybe in her early twenties. She came down the driveway straight toward Dahlia House. Definitely an aficionado of the 1920s, based on her attire.

  She came right up the steps and took a seat beside me without invitation. Pluto sat down beside her and Sweetie Pie yawned and settled back to continue her nap. I knew it was Jitty. It could be no one else. “Tinkie is pregnant.” I said it as a fact.

  The woman arched one eyebrow. “Science makes great strides, particularly in medicine.”

  “It wasn’t science. It was a miracle.”

  She nodded. “Once upon a time, man dreamed of conquering space, of transporting humans to other planets. Now it’s a reality. I played a part in that.”

  She was definitely Native American, and a lovely woman. But she was also something else. “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Mary Golda Ross.” She held out a hand that I shook. “First Native American space engineer.”

  “First but not last.”

  “You can’t have a second or two-hundredth until there’s a first. I broke ground for my people, for all people.”

  “And you were a flapper.” I found both facts to be amazing.

  “Only part time, in my youth. But I was a full-time rocket scientist. The only Native American and the only woman among forty engineers.”

  Mary Ross was truly a groundbreaker, and she’d done it with her own individual flair and style.

  “Are you glad the dig at Mound Salla has been discontinued?” I was curious. Mary Ross had stepped into modern times. She’d achieved in a world that her ancestors had never imagined. She’d achieved in a world where both Native American people and all women were still held back.

  “We can learn from the past,” she said, “but so often we don’t. That’s a crime. We are impervious to history and keep repeating the same mistakes. If we could truly learn, the world would benefit in many ways. The future could be so … incredible.”

  “Don’t give up on us. We can’t give up. Not you. Not me. And not Tinkie. We have to hold on to our dreams.”

  Mary Ross stood, and I could see the cotton fields green with new growth through her. She was fading from this world. “Always believe in miracles, Sarah Booth. For Tinkie and for yourself.” In her words I heard the whisper of my mother’s voice.

  “I will. You have my word on it.”

  ALSO BY CAROLYN HAINES

  SARAH BOOTH DELANEY MYSTERIES

  A Gift of Bones

  Sticks and Bones

  Rock-a-Bye Bones

  Bone to Be Wild

  Booty Bones

  Smarty Bones

  Bonefire of the Vanities

  Bones of a Feather

  Bone Appetit

  Greedy Bones

  Wishbones

  Ham Bones

  Bones to Pick

  Hallowed Bones

  Crossed Bones

  Splintered Bones

  Buried Bones

  Them Bones

  Charmed Bones

  NOVELS

  The Specter of Seduction

  The House of Memory

  The Book of Beloved

  Familiar Trouble

  Revenant

  Fever Moon

  Penumbra

  Judas Burning

  Touched

  Summer of the Redeemers

  Summer of Fear

  NONFICTION

  My Mother’s Witness: The Peggy Morgan Story

  AS R. B. CHESTERTON

  The Darkling

  The Seeker

  About the Author

  Carolyn Haines is the USA Today bestselling author of the Sarah Booth Delaney mystery series and a number of other books in mystery and crime, including the Pluto’s Snitch paranormal-historical mystery series and the Familiar Legacy series, featuring Trouble, the black cat detective. She is the recipient of the Harper Lee Award for Distinguished Writing, the Richard Wright Award for Literary Excellence, and the Mississippi Writers Guild Lifetime Achievement Award. She is a former journalist, bartender, photographer, farmhand, and college professor and lives on a farm where she works with rescue cats, dogs, and horses. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7
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  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 32

  Also by Carolyn Haines

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  GAME OF BONES. Copyright © 2019 by Carolyn Haines. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.minotaurbooks.com

  Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein

  Cover illustration by Hiro Kimura

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Names: Haines, Carolyn, author.

  Title: Game of bones / Carolyn Haines.

  Description: First edition. | New York: Minotaur Books, 2019.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2019002774 | ISBN 9781250154156 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250154163 (ebook)

  Subjects: | GSAFD: Mystery fiction.

  Classification: LCC PS3558.A329 G36 2019 | DDC 813/.54—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019002774

  eISBN 9781250154163

  Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

 

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