The Treasure Seeker Page 17

  “Dennis watched you and Kate through the shop window and saw you with the pistol. He realized you two didn’t have the money, so he goes back out to Larry’s and confronts him with what he saw. Larry denies knowing anything about the cash and claims to have found the pistol while going through some of his father’s stuff. There’s an argument and Dennis kills Larry. He and his brother had just left the house when you and Kate show up on Sunday morning. When they see you again they get nervous and decide they’d better kill you as well just in case Larry did tell you something about them.”

  “So he was there at the house the entire time his brother was shooting at us,” Ry said, trying to absorb it all.

  “No, he claims he was only there at the beginning. They’d parked their car down the road in a field. He told Roger to take care of you and Kate while he went to get the car. When he came back, he saw Roger’s body lying in the yard. He said he could see you standing in the window. He started to go after you, but he saw a police car flying down the road. He panicked and took off. He said he wrecked your place in retaliation for you killing his brother.” He sipped his coffee loudly.

  “And that’s why he shot me,” she said faintly.

  “Yes. You killed his baby brother.”

  She traced the grout line of the counter tile with her fingertip. “All this happened because I picked up the wrong box.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  She took a deep breath. “So what happens now?”

  “Any investigations that were pending against you will be dropped. When you feel up to it, you’ll need to stop by the Bexar County Sheriff’s Office and sign a couple of forms. By the way, your cell phone is here in my office. If you or your folks are in town stop by, or I’ll drop it by when I get the chance.”

  She thanked him and hung up.

  Ry turned and found her parent anxiously watching her. She filled them in on everything Victor had told her.

  Her father slowly shook his head. “What a waste,” he said, “all those deaths and ruined lives.”

  “Why didn’t Dodd just tell his grandsons he’d already spent the money?” Ry asked. “Ten years passed before the police caught him. He was married with at least two kids. What made them think anything was left?”

  “Greed,” her mom said. “Rational thought disappears as soon as greed enters the picture.”

  “How did they plan on spending it?” her father asked. “Those bills would have been over eighty years old. Can you just walk into a store and use them?”

  Ry shrugged. “They’re probably collector’s items by now. There are a lot of coin and paper money collectors out there.”

  “Even if Dodd had hidden it somewhere, it would probably be ruined by now,” he added.

  Ry had studied many books on a variety of antiques and vintage items, one of them had been on coins and paper money. “The robbery happened in 1932,” she said. “Gold coins were still in use. It’s likely that at least part of the money would have been in twenty-dollar gold pieces. That’s certainly not something they could have casually sold off in volume. The sudden appearance of a large number of new sales in gold coins should have raised some questions.”

  “Couldn’t they have melted the coins down into bars?” her mom asked. “I saw on television where these companies buy up gold all the time. They melt it into gold bricks. How do they sell those?”

  Both Ry and her father shrugged. “The only bricks I know anything about are the ones I promised to pick up and deliver to James. And you know James. He won’t be a happy camper if I keep his crew waiting.”

  Ry sat at the table as her parents left the kitchen. She smiled when she thought of their morning ritual. Every morning rain or shine when he left for work her mom would walk out to his truck with him and wave until he reached the road.

  Her mom returned just as Ry closed the dishwasher. “Mom, how would you like to go to San Antonio and Jackson City today?”

  Her mom made a face. “What do you need from town?”

  “I need to pick up my phone from Victor and sign some paperwork in San Antonio.” Ry grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and went to her father’s office. She intended to use the trip as an opportunity to mail a few letters, including one to Irene Jankowski. She struggled with what she wanted to say. She finally settled for: Dear Mrs. Jankowski, You probably don’t remember me, but I was a friend of Lilly’s many years ago. I only recently learned of her passing and wished to offer my condolences. I’m sure you find great solace in reading her diary. We used to have such fun hiding our childish treasures behind that fake panel at the back of her closet. I sometimes wonder if she continued to keep her diary there. Sincerely, Carolyn Smith

  Ry re-read the letter. She tried to convey enough information to lead Irene Jankowski to her daughter’s diary without making her intent obvious. With luck, Mrs. Jankowski would no longer remember the names of all her daughter’s friends and the fake name wouldn’t cause her any concern. She folded the letter and prepared it to mail. She hoped both Irene and Lilly would soon find some sense of peace.

  She answered two other requests she had received the previous night. One came from a man who wanted his wife to know where he had hidden some money. The second was from a woman who wanted her daughter to know where the mother had hidden her life insurance policy. She didn’t bother trying to explain how she had come about the knowledge, she simply told them where to look and left the letters unsigned. These two requests had come complete with names and addresses. As soon as she had finished with the letters, she rushed back to her room to get ready.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When they arrived at the Bexar County Sheriff’s Office in San Antonio, Ry was relieved that her mom elected to stay in the car. She could drop the letters into the mailbox outside without having to make up answers for her mom’s curiosity. She was grateful to find that the paperwork had already been completed and was there waiting for her signature.

  As Ry made her way toward the exit, she glanced over a copy of the papers she had just signed. A sudden burst of familiar laughter made her look up. Nicole and another woman had just entered the building. Ry cringed slightly when she saw the sudden disappearance of Nicole’s smile. They stood staring at each other for a long, awkward moment.

  Ry spoke first, “Hello.”

  Nicole nodded and quickly recovered. “Hi. What are you doing here?” She stopped short and added. “I meant I’m shocked to see you’re able to get out and about so soon.”

  “I had to come here and sign some papers.”

  Nicole nodded. “I heard they had caught the guy who shot you.” She turned to the woman beside her. “Ann, this is Ry Shelton, the woman I was telling you about.”

  The woman extended her hand and murmured a weak, “Hi. How are you?”

  Ry shook her hand or rather her fingers and forced herself not to grimace at the woman’s limp handshake. Why would Nicole be attracted to such a mousey woman? “I’m fine, but I certainly wouldn’t have made it without Officer Matthews’ help,” she said.

  The woman looked up at Nicole adoringly. “Isn’t she something? I worry so much about her being out in the woods all alone.”

  Okay, so Ann adored Nicole. Maybe that was the attraction. Still, Ry had to exert control to keep from rolling her eyes. Struggling for conversation, she asked the obvious, “You’re not from here, are you?”

  Ann grinned. “Atlanta. I’m here to visit Nicki. I surprised her. She wasn’t expecting me until next month.” Again, she looked up at Nicole with big cow eyes.

  Nicole shifted nervously from foot to foot.

  Ry gritted her teeth and held out her hand again. “It was nice to meet you, Ann. I hope you enjoy your stay.” She nodded at Nicole. “Officer Matthews, it was good to see you again.” She gave a quick wave and rushed out.

  * * *

  Rain began while they were driving back to Jackson City. It was a little after two when they parked in front of the sheriff’s office. Th
e rain had slackened to a heavy sprinkle. Ry shivered when she stepped out of the car into the cold, damp air.

  “I’m going in to talk to Alma while you get your phone,” her mom said. “I heard her mother is doing poorly again. I want to see if there’s anything we can do to help her.”

  Ry nodded. Alma Diaz had been the dispatcher for the Jackson City Police Department for over twenty-five years. “Victor’s squad car is in the parking lot, so I’ll go see if he has my phone and meet you back at Alma’s desk,” Ry said.

  As soon as they stepped inside it was obvious something was going on. Alma was at her desk, but too busy dispatching messages to and from deputies in the field to notice them. Ry heard her reading off a description. It sounded as though an elderly man was missing.

  “Rylene, something’s wrong,” her mom said. “Maybe we should come back later.”

  They were leaving when Ry heard her name being called. It was Victor. He was standing in his office waving something at them. Ry assumed it was her cell phone. As she approached him, his phone rang and he grabbed it.

  When she grew nearer she noticed Jamison Bradley, the director of the nursing home. She had known him since they were kids. Ry nodded to him as she stepped into the office. Victor was talking on the phone and leaning over a map on his desk.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Jamison wiped a handkerchief over his face. “Clarence Reed has gone missing.”

  Ry remembered the frail elderly man who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease. Whenever she had gone to the nursing home, she had always tried to include him on her round of visits because he seldom had visitors. His only living relative was a brother who resided somewhere up north. The only visitors Clarence had were a couple of old friends who managed to find a way out to the nursing home occasionally.

  “He was there when they took his lunch in at eleven, but when they went back to get the tray he was gone.” He wiped his face again. “We’ve turned the facility upside down looking for him. I’m afraid he somehow got out.”

  Victor hung up. “Jamison, they need you back at the nursing home. They need your key to the back gate. Find Deputy Ross. He’ll tell you what he needs.”

  Jamison jumped up and rushed out.

  “Is there anything I can do to help, Victor?” Ry asked.

  He hooked his thumbs over his belt. “We’re trying to organize a search party, but you’ve got no business being out there.”

  Ry was about to protest, but was stopped when her mom came into the room.

  “I can help,” her mom said.

  They looked back to see her in the doorway.

  “I’m perfectly capable,” her mom said.

  He nodded. “All right. If you don’t mind waiting a couple minutes, you can ride over with me.” He looked at his watch. “Nat Zucker is bringing his hounds. We’re hoping to track him.”

  “Won’t the rain be a problem?” her mom asked.

  He looked worried. “Depends on how long it keeps up and how hard it rains. According to Jamison, Clarence hasn’t been doing too well.”

  Ry noticed a faded shirt in a clear plastic bag on Victor’s desk. What would happen if she touched it? Before when she sensed something it had been when touching an individual. She remembered the incident with the arrowhead. “Is that one of Clarence’s shirts?” She tried to keep her voice casual.

  Victor nodded. “We’ll need it for Nat’s dogs.” He glanced at his watch again. “I wish he would hurry up and get here.”

  Ry bit her lip and glanced nervously at her mom. She knew she should keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t stop thinking about poor Clarence. She took a deep breath and prayed she wasn’t about to make a huge fool of herself. “Would you mind if I looked at the shirt?”

  “There’s nothing there to tell us anything,” he said absently.

  “Victor, please let me see the shirt.”

  Something in her voice made him look up. “What good would that do?”

  “Just please give it to me.”

  He shook his head. “No. The dogs might get confused if too many people handle it.”

  “Is that the only shirt he had?” Ry’s tone was sharper than she intended.

  “Rylene,” her mom began.

  Ry held out her hand. “Please, Victor. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.”

  He frowned at her and hesitantly handed it to her. “I guess it’s okay since it’s in a bag.”

  She tore the bag open and reached inside before they could stop her.

  Ry was thrown into a swirling vortex that seemed hell-bent on ripping her apart. When she finally freed herself of its spinning fury, she found herself in a field covered in brush and cactus. She felt as if every bone in her body might explode with each movement she made. Despite the cold rain that drenched her, her skin burned. Her lungs hurt when she breathed. She raised a hand to wipe away the rain on her face, but stopped and stared in horror. The hand she saw wasn’t her own. The hand before her was old and withered. The knuckles were swollen and bruised. It took her a moment to realize she was seeing the world through Clarence Reed’s eyes. She forced herself to ignore the pain as she turned in a complete circle and searched for anything that would identify her location. Each step was tentative and painful. All she saw was endless waves of brush and cactus. She tried to walk, but exhaustion weighed her down. She sat down on a rain-soaked tree stump. The pungent odor of pine tickled her nostrils. As she struggled to breathe, she heard the soft jingle of bells and the distant sound of a donkey braying. The next thing she was aware of was coming to on the floor of Victor’s office with him and her mom hovering over her. She was exhausted and her body ached. She struggled to sit up.

  Victor helped her to a chair. “Rylene,” her mother gasped. “Are you all right?”

  Ry stared at her hands, relieved to find they were her own.

  “He’s in a field covered with brush,” she said without preamble. “We have to find him. He’s really sick.” She shivered. “I heard bells. They sounded like sleigh bells and there was a donkey braying.” She realized they were both staring at her as if she had lost her mind.

  Victor looked at Doreen, confused and concerned. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

  “Rylene, what are you doing, honey?” Her mom put a hand on Ry’s arm. “My goodness, you’re burning up. You have a fever.” She grabbed Ry’s arm. “Come on. We have to get you to the hospital. It must be an infection. Dr. Price warned us it could happen.”

  Ry grabbed her hands. “Mom, I’m not sick. If we don’t get to Clarence soon, he’s going to die. I could feel it.” She stared into her mother’s eyes. “Do you understand me? I could feel him suffering.”

  “Should I call an ambulance?” Victor asked, staring at Ry as if she were possessed.

  Ry pressed on. “It was raining. I smelled pine trees. He’s really sick,” she repeated.

  “You smelled pine trees?” Victor asked incredulously.

  “Yes. I didn’t see them, but I could smell them.”

  “Ry, there are no pine trees around here.”

  She remembered the strong odor. It was unmistakable. “I’m telling you there was a pine tree. I could smell it. It smelled just like Christmas.” She heard Victor’s breath catch.

  Her mom must have heard it too. “What’s wrong?”

  He stared at Ry. “There’s that Christmas tree farm out on Old Pecos Road.”

  Ry remembered the place but he couldn’t possibly be there. “That’s at least twenty miles from the nursing home,” she said, beginning to doubt herself.

  They were all shaking their heads. Only her mother expressed what each of them was thinking. “Clarence couldn’t have walked that far.”

  A hard chill shook Ry’s body and for a brief moment she again felt his pain. “I don’t know how he got there, but if those are the only pine trees around here then that’s where he is. Come on, Mom. We’re going out there.”

/>   “Rylene, I think I should take you to the doctor,” her mom said.

  “I don’t need a doctor. I need to find Clarence.”

  Her mom again started to protest and then stopped. “Okay. Let’s go.” She began digging in her purse for her keys.

  Victor gave a low growl before he snatched his hat off a table. “Come on. I’m not letting you go out there alone.” He glared at Ry. “The last thing your mother needs is for you to get out there and have some kind of relapse.”

  “I’m fine,” Ry said, although she wasn’t feeling fine. She couldn’t remember ever being so cold.

  “We’ll go look, Victor,” her mom said. “You stay here and continue on with what you were doing.”

  He shook his head as he opened a closet door, grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Ry’s shoulder. “Seth would kill me if I let you two go off alone with her sick.” They followed him out. “Alma,” he yelled. “I’ll be in my car if you need me.”

  The rain was coming down harder. Low visibility and slick roadways slowed their progress. When they reached the Christmas tree farm, Victor turned to Ry. “Does anything seem familiar?”

  She tried to look around but was having trouble focusing. She rolled the window down long enough to sniff the air.

  “That’s the smell, but it’s too strong. He’s not this close to the trees. There was a donkey. I heard bells.”

  “We used to keep bells on the goats,” Doreen said from the backseat. “It made them easier to find when they strayed off. Someone with goats or sheep might have a donkey to keep the coyotes away.”

  Victor tapped his finger against the steering wheel and then grabbed the mike to the police radio. “This is Sheriff Orozco,” he shouted into it. “Does anyone know who owns goats or sheep and a donkey in the vicinity of the Christmas tree farm out on Old Pecos Road?” He lowered the mike and waited. A second later, there was a crackle and then a voice.

  “Sheriff, this is Ross. Ms. Rollins has goats and a donkey. I had to go out there last week. The donkey had gotten out and was over at Dink’s place.”