Black Joint Point

25

Lucy was getting ready to leave Patch’s house, purse in hand, dressed in jeans, a plain white T-shirt, fat-lensed sunglasses, and a baseball cap. Whit pulled up, parked his Explorer to the side so she could move her Chevy out. She opened the car door, tossed in her purse, stood by the car, waiting.

‘How was afternoon court?’

‘Slow. Glad to finish a little early. Where you going?’ he asked.

‘A few errands,’ she said. ‘I haven’t gotten a thing done since Patch died.’

‘I can do that for you.’

She forced a smile. ‘It’s okay. I’d rather go myself. I need to stay busy.’

He told her about the conversation with Suzanne. Behind the sunglasses she gave no sign of emotion, but she crossed her arms, tapped her feet in anger.

‘Well. What do you want to do?’ she said.

‘If I recuse myself, the press might make an issue of it. Think that you’re more of a suspect than you are. But this is really your decision, Lucy. At least about the will.’

‘Mine. You mean ours.’ She gave him a smile, the thin kind that is barely meant. ‘We’re a team, aren’t we?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then forget Suzanne. Spoiled little bitch. She crossed a line she’s never going to be able to step back over.’

‘Okay.’

She gave a sick little laugh. ‘I have no family left, Whit. Patch and Suzanne were it, and now… I’m not going to be able to forgive her.’

‘Never say never. She’s upset. So are you.’

‘She’s greedy. I hate greed in people. It’s corrosive. Did you know that most of the callers at the psychic hotline want to know if they’re going to get rich? Or win the lottery?’ She shook her head. ‘They never ask if they’re just going to be happy. Find love. That’s not enough for people anymore.’

‘Forget the errands. Let’s go inside, just be alone.’

‘No. It’ll be good for me to get out. A little alone time.’

‘Okay, Lucy. I’ll cook us some dinner.’

‘No need. The church ladies and Patch’s friends brought a ton of food. Heat yourself up some dinner. There’s salad, too. Open wine if you want. Don’t wait on me. I may be out for a while.’

He watched her pull out of the driveway. I have no family left, she’d said. I’ll be your family, Lucy, and he nearly laughed, the odd way love kept sneaking up on you.

The fishing cottage was small, on a couple of private acres on the south edge of Laurel Point, fifteen minutes away from Port Leo. It was owned by one of Stoney’s widowed clients who lived in San Antonio and rarely bothered with fishing. She’d given him a key a few months ago, asked him to get the real estate appraised, and he’d made and kept a copy for himself.

It was empty, of course, neat as a pin, decorated badly with nautical motifs: starfish light-switch plates, a mobile of crustaceans, fake compasses mounted on the walls like clocks. But very comfortable, a television in the corner, old bourbons and whiskeys in the bar.

‘What the fuck good is a compass mounted on the wall?’ Alex said.

‘It’s decorative,’ Stoney said.

‘It must be nice to have a house you don’t even need.’

The old woman who owns it, her husband invented an important valve on oil pumps. She’s so rich she doesn’t have to wipe her own ass if she doesn’t want to.’

Alex had inspected the cottage, took a deep breath, said, ‘It’ll do.’ The cottage was isolated, quiet, not a place anyone would look for Stoney. Earlier, he’d outlined the plan.

‘Sooner or later your brother and his girlfriend are going to be missed. People come looking for them, they want to talk to you. But you’re gone. So’s your boat. So you’re presumed missing, too.’

‘Like I’ve been kidnapped?’ Stoney said slowly.

‘Yeah. At least until we see what’s happened. They turn up alive, your brother might not be real thrilled with you since you wouldn’t pay and told them to kill his girlfriend.’

‘I never said that-’

‘Listen. But if the gang that kidnapped them had operatives that also kidnapped you…’

‘To get the money they couldn’t get before,’ Stoney said. ‘Yeah.’ So he thought for a moment, told Alex about the cottage, and they’d headed over after burying Danny’s body in a thick grove of oaks, twelve miles inland. It had been hot, even in the shade, and both men were grimy and sweaty.

Alex washed his face off in the cottage’s sink. ‘Now that I’ve done the thinking to save your ass, where’s the Devil’s Eye?’

‘I told you. You can have the rest of the treasure, man. Take it and go with your share. You want to come back when I’m ready to stage the dig on the Gilbert land, help me fake it, that’s cool, too. I trust you. And I’ll pay you well.’ Cool confidence in his voice now. He’d killed a man and his hands weren’t shaking, his stomach wasn’t in knots.

‘No. You’re telling me now.’

‘Remember. Anything happens to me, your name surfaces. Immediately.’

‘Why should I believe that?’

‘I managed to take down my investment firm’s computer by remote control, Alex. I kept a virus executable file I could run on the servers, one the servers weren’t protected against, in case I needed to freeze up my computers, if the Feds wanted to look too close at my records. I don’t keep real backups. It’s all insurance. I’m just a big believer in it.’

‘You are fucking pissing me off.’

‘Tough,’ Stoney said, feeling tough himself. ‘I needed insurance you wouldn’t off me like Jimmy Bird and I’ve been very careful about how I set it up. You want to leave with your share of the treasure? Go ahead. But the emerald, it’s mine.’

Alex stared. Stoney made himself not blink, not move. He thought Alex might say, Well, screw the Eye, and just shoot him. Stoney wondered what it would feel like to have the bullet tear into your skin, explode through organs, come out the back. He’d lie there dead for God knows how long, until old Mrs Mayweather in San Antonio decided to go fishing again and showed up at the cottage.

Alex’s frown tightened, like he wanted to shoot Stoney but decided not to. Instead of going for his gun, Alex tucked his hands into his pockets.

‘I’ve got some business to attend to,’ Alex said.

Stoney felt a little shock of pleased surprise; he thought Alex would stick to him like glue. He felt relief at the idea of being alone. Some business? He wondered what that was.

Alex said, ‘You need to stay out of sight, keep the lights off, don’t attract attention here. You’ve been kidnapped, remember.’

‘Shit. That Whit Mosley saw me. He knows I wasn’t kidnapped this morning.’

‘If he’s a problem,’ Alex said, ‘I’ll handle him.’

‘You can’t go kill a judge…’

‘Stoney. There’s probably a good marathon on cable. Try the Cartoon Network. Knock yourself out.’

After Alex left, Stoney made a phone call, poured a shot of Jack Daniel’s, downed it like medicine, lay on the froufrou pillows of the Mayweather couch, drowsily replaying in his mind killing Danny. It wasn’t so bad. He hadn’t liked Danny begging for his life; that bothered him, but what was done was done.

He decided he’d rather think about Danny than about Ben. They’d never been particularly close as brothers, especially since Stoney made his money. Not ones to sit and talk about life. He quit thinking about Ben, got comfortable, dozed.

The knock on the door woke him from his drowse, and for a second he thought, Well, there’s Ben, back from fishing. No. He was in the cottage. Waiting for a friend. Stoney stood, opened the door.

‘Come on in,’ he said.

Lucy Gilbert stepped inside, glanced around. ‘Are we alone?’

‘Yeah,’ Stoney said. And as soon as he said it she pulled a gun from her purse, a big old revolver that must’ve been her uncle’s, but cleaned and oiled, and she aimed it squarely at his chest.

‘You bastard,’ Lucy said. ‘You killed them.’

‘What’s this?’ He tried to keep an easy tone in his voice. He hadn’t expected sweet, ditzy Lucy to be armed.

‘You killed Patch and Thuy.’

‘No, I didn’t,’ he said. Wow, three times today he’d had a gun aimed at him and he nearly laughed, except Lucy looked a little ragged, and the third time might not be the charm. She was far more likely to shoot him. ‘I didn’t kill anyone, Lucy. I called you because I wanted to be sure you were safe.’

‘I’m supposed to fucking thank you? No one was supposed to get hurt. You were just supposed to dig up the stuff. I sell you my land, you rebury it, end of story.’

‘I didn’t kill them,’ he said again, ‘but if you want the guy who did, I can give him to you. But just you. Not the police, though, that’d be a mess for both of us.’

‘I hate you,’ Lucy said and the barrel, trained right on his chest, steadied. ‘Do you know what you might cost me? What you’ve already taken from me?’

‘If you feel so righteous, pick up the phone and call the police. I’ll just sit on the couch while you explain to them how you knew who killed your uncle and his girlfriend and didn’t lift a finger.’ He went and sat, crossed his legs.

‘Don’t think I won’t,’ Lucy said.

‘Phone’s right there.’

He waited; she waited. She lowered the gun, just a bit, down toward his crotch. ‘Tell me what happened.’

Stoney did, quietly, saying how Alex had freaked when Thuy and Patch surprised them as they were finishing the dig, killed them both.

‘And who killed Jimmy Bird?’

‘Far as I know, he’s a suicide.’ Stoney watched her lower the gun, the barrel pointing at the floor. ‘I’m not asking any more questions about it. Neither should you.’

‘This Alex,’ she said, ‘does he know about me?’

‘He knows you’re Patch’s niece. He doesn’t know we know each other.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’m really sorry about your uncle and his friend, Lucy. Truly I am. No one was supposed to get hurt. If it’s comforting, it was very, very quick. They might have been afraid for a moment but it was as painless as could be.’

‘Painless my ass. He beat Patch’s head in with a shovel.’

‘I know. First blow killed the poor guy. Alex just wanted to be… sure.’

That is not comforting to me in the least, Stoney,’ she said. She sat across from him in the heavy armchair. Closed her eyes. ‘I can’t believe this has happened. This had a bad vibe from the beginning and I ignored it.’ She opened her eyes. ‘You’ve fucked up my aura, Stoney.’

‘You still have the emerald?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where is it?’

‘Safe.’

‘Alex wants it. He’s not going to give up. I told him one lie about where it was, but he didn’t buy it.’

She gave a little shudder. ‘Why did you get involved with this guy?’

‘A truly legit contract archaeologist wouldn’t have agreed to do the dig. Alex did. And he’ll do the re-dig on your land, make all the records and processes look clean.’ He paused. ‘You know your boyfriend came to see me.’

‘Oh, God.’

‘He knew I’d met Patch those couple of times.’

‘Oh, God.’

‘I said Patch was just an acquaintance. He believed me.’

‘I want you to stay away from Whit,’ she said.

He got up, sat on the armchair’s arm next to her, put his arm around her. She felt good. He liked Lucy, her pert little nose, blue eyes, little barely visible freckles on her cheeks. Nice tits beneath the blouse, he thought, wondering if maybe those little kissable freckles were down there, too. He’d thought about what it’d be like to bed her, if she ever got over that judge and gave him a real glance.

‘It’s gonna be okay,’ he said, patting her. ‘I sure don’t have a thing against him.’

She stiffened under his hand. ‘So now what?’

‘Alex might be a problem. Not just for me. For you. Or for your boyfriend,’ he said. He had to be careful, not panic her overmuch. She might crack and run to Whit or to the police, even if it cost her everything. He ran a thumb along her shoulder blade.

She shrugged his hand off.

‘Sorry, just trying to be a help.’ He leaned back. ‘I know you’re upset – you got every right.’

‘I don’t want you to ever touch me, Stoney. You understand?’

‘Sure, Lucy.’

‘I love Whit.’

‘I know you do. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to be a friend.’

‘You let Alex kill my uncle and Thuy and you want to be my friend?’

‘I couldn’t stop him,’ he said and then he had an idea, not a bad one at all, to solve his problems. It might work. ‘Lucy. That gum. You really know how to use it?’

She narrowed her gaze. ‘Why?’

‘Like I said, Alex might be a problem.’

‘You said you need him for the fake dig.’

‘Sure. But he’s gotten real unpredictable. Maybe if he doesn’t want to do the fake dig on your land, just wants to take off, well, he might decide to hurt me. Or you, if he finds out someone else has the Devil’s Eye. And he knows Whit talked to me. He might hurt Whit. I don’t know.’

She stared. ‘You want me to shoot Alex.’

‘I want us to be careful, sweetheart. We get through this, we both get what we want. You get your money, you get out of your debts, you get Whit.’

‘I don’t know I want to sell you my land anymore, Stoney. And I think I have Whit-’

‘Until he finds out about what you’ve done. Then he’ll be gone, Lucy.’

‘I want out. This isn’t what I signed on for, Stoney.’

‘Can’t, Lucy. Train left the station.’ He went back to the couch, smiled at her, thinking, And I will fucking touch you when I please when all this is done. ‘I’m not suggesting you kill Alex, Lucy. Clearly not. Just want you to be careful. I mean, he thinks Whit’s a threat to him, he’s going to come after him. We’re kind of pretending that I’ve been kidnapped right now-’

‘What?’

‘Just calm down. I don’t want to go into the why. But the last person who saw me was your boyfriend. Alex considers him a threat.’

Lucy stared at the gun in her lap.

‘You know how to use it?’ he asked again.

‘Patch showed me,’ she said. ‘When I was a lot younger.’

‘Alex is staying at a little motel on the outskirts of Port Leo. The Sandspot. You know it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Room 133.’

She didn’t say anything, looked down at her fingers closed around the gun.

‘Well, now you know where he’s at, sweetheart,’ Stoney said. ‘The rest is up to you.’