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A Case of Deceit Page 2
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I step into him and hit the arm that holds the gun off to the side. I stomp his foot and having on my biker boots I know it hurts like hell. I know jujitsu, but I also fight dirty. If someone is going to draw a gun on me, they are going to get hurt. Better him than me.
As I toss him over my shoulder and he hits the pavement I grab his throat. My thumb is on his jugular. I know it hurts. I've been on the receiving end of it in training.
This guy is out of shape. Lazy. If you are going to be muscle, at least have some. I put more pressure on his jugular.
“Lay still,” I tell him. He quiets down fast. His eyes are looking at me and they are telling me that I'm dead if he can figure out a way to do it. I'm not worried.
“You tell whoever you work for to lay off Angela. You also tell them that I'll be around for a while. I don't know what's going on here, but I'll find out. You got that?”
He blinks a few times. I take that as a yes and let up. I grab his gun off the ground and stick it in the back of my jeans. I'll get rid of it later. One more gun off the streets.
Dumb ass is gasping for breath as he gets up. He holds his sore throat with the hand that doesn’t have the broken finger. He gives Angela one last hard look then lurches toward the back of the hotel. I'm thinking he has a car back there. I let him go. I want word to get to his boss that I'm here and have Angela's back. Because something is up and Angela has her pretty blonde self-smack in the middle of it.
I look at her. “What the hell did he want?”
She's holding Tee and hiding her face in his fur. “Angela!”
She jerks her head up and looks at me. I see the red mark on her cheek from when Stupid slapped her but see no tears. I walk up to her.
“What is going on Angela? What did he want?”
“He asked me where the deed was.”
“What deed? To what?”
“The old Wenner estate. Tony and I bought it together a few months ago. It was up for auction for back taxes. It’s run down from decades of neglect but sits on some good acreage. We had plans to fix the mansion up into a small exclusive hotel, spa, and nightclub.”
“Doesn't sound like something to kill over.”
As the words come out of my mouth, Angela gives me a strange look. “What aren't you telling me?” I demand.
“There are rumors that old man Wenner, back in the twenties, hid some gold bullion somewhere on the estate. Tony and I didn't believe it as people have been trespassing and looking for this gold for years and not finding a thing! Can that be what they want?”
An old estate. An eccentric old man. A gold bullion legend. A thug who talks and looks like a Mafia wannabe.
Add one possible murder and the attack on Angela. What do I have?
Oh, crap.
Chapter Four
“Where's your car?” I ask Angela.
“Over there, why?” She vaguely points to the left.
“I want to see this Wenner place. You got time to take me?” I start walking Angela to her car. I want to see this property that has someone so interested they would send a thug to hustle Angela. I know she's hurt and scared right now, but this will take her mind off being slapped.
“I canceled all my appointments for this week. Between Tony's death and threats to me, I couldn't possibly work.”
Angela digs out some keys from a large purse and pushes the remote. I hear some locks click from a black Cadillac SUV Escalade about ten feet from us. We get in the SUV and I put Tee in the backseat with his satchel. Angela and I buckle up and we head out.
“We can stop someplace for breakfast on the way out,” I tell her. I was hungry and it's been a long morning already.
Angela glances over at me and grimaces. “You just beat up some guy and now you’re hungry? How can you possibly think of food right now?”
“I didn't beat him up. I stopped him from hurting you.”
“Where did you learn that stuff, Dee? It all happened so fast!”
“I've been taking lessons for years. Anyway, that's not important. Do you have the deed to this Wenner place?”
“No. Tony had it since he owned the most percentage of the place. I own thirty percent he owned seventy. The deed must be in his house somewhere.”
“Tony had that much money? A stand-up comic?” I ask as I look for a place to eat. I'm hungry and I'm sure Tee wouldn't mind a bite. He loves scrambled eggs.
“Oh, he only was a comedian since he retired. It was always a dream of his to have a stand-up show. He made all his money in real estate before that. Tony owned one of the biggest real estate offices in Ashville. He started before Ashville became popular with the rich and famous.”
I see a well-known chain restaurant, popular for its breakfast twenty-four hours a day. It was good enough for me. I point it out to Angela and tell her to stop there.
We stop and have a fast breakfast. I take some of the scrambled eggs out to Tee, who's waiting patiently in the SUV. My mind is mulling over all Angela has told me about Tony. Seems he got into the real estate business just in time to cash in on the boom in Ashville. Made millions over the years and finally was able to retire and live his dream of playing in clubs as a stand-up comic. He sounds like he was a stand-up guy all around.
Forty-five minutes later Angela pulls onto a rundown gravel road that leads to the Wenner mansion. Even I can see it would make a good area for an exclusive hotel. It sits on some prime real estate, a bit overgrown with weeds now, but I see the potential. It's also only fifteen minutes away from a ritzy yacht club on the ocean.
I glance around as Angela maneuvers the SUV to avoid some major potholes when the mansion suddenly comes into view.
For being neglected for so long, it is surprisingly intact. Overgrown rose bushes and weeds are everywhere, but the building itself is still quite pretty. As my uneducated eye takes in the faded beauty of the mansion, it looks to me like something out of the Great Gatsby movies. Impressive.
“The house doesn't look too bad,” I say to Angela as she stops and parks on what once was a grand driveway but was now cracked and weathered.
We get out of the SUV and I look around. That's when I start to notice the various holes all over the grounds. Must be where people were digging for the mythical gold.
“The house is in great shape considering no one’s been living in it for years. No one bothered with it; they are more interested in the grounds, as that is supposed to be where old man Wenner had the gold buried. In some kind of underground vault is the rumor.” Angela steps carefully over some rubble.
“Let's take a quick look around,” I suggest.
“OK, but be careful, there are holes everywhere and some of them quite deep,” Angela warns me as she leads me to the back of the house.
People are strange. To go out and dig holes all over just because of some decades-old rumor of gold. Gold has a way of making people crazy. Gold fever is real. Me, I'm not interested in finding the stuff. I'm just interested in finding out if Tony was killed because of the myth that there was gold buried here.
By now, we're behind the house in what looks like what used to be a fancy garden. I can still see parts of hedges and flowerbeds. Years of dead leaves and overgrown grass rustle beneath our feet. We skirt a few holes and walk slightly off a faded path when I hear an ominous cracking sound underfoot.
Crap.
We must have stepped on a hidden hole that was covered with leaves and grass. The wood is old and weathered and can’t hold our combined weight. Seconds flash by in slow motion as I give Angela a hard shove off the boards and feel the wood give beneath my feet. This was going to hurt.
Next thing I know, I'm lying flat on my back and looking up at the shadowed face of Angela. The sun is shining brightly behind her. I must have fallen a good fifteen feet. Good thing the dirt is soft. Well, softer than rock anyway. I'm trying to catch the breath that was knocked out of me as I hear Angela calling my name.
“Dee! Dee! Oh my god, Dee! Are you alright?”
/> I hear Tee barking frantically somewhere up there and Angela calling my name, but I have no breath to answer. Finally, in a big gasp, air comes back into my lungs. I cough and sneeze as the dust I raised when I fell starts to settle around me. I start to take inventory of my limbs. I don’t think anything is broke, but damn it hurts.
I struggle up and try to look around. It's dark and smells of the earth. I need some light. And a ladder.
“I'm OK!” I manage to choke out. “Can you find me a flashlight? Also a ladder or rope? Throw down Tee's satchel; it might have some stuff in the pockets I can use.”
Tee is still barking as Angela answers me, “I have a flashlight in the car. I'll see if I can find a ladder in one of the sheds.”
I watch her move off and try to calm Tee down. “Quiet Tee. That's a good boy.”
I'm looking up at him and he moves closer to the hole.
“Stay back Tee!” I yell, but it's too late. I see the dirt shift under his feet and watch him start to slide. He scrambles to get back, but it's no use. With dirt falling around me, I watch as he slides through the hole and starts falling.
I catch him before he hits the ground. I'm just glad at this moment that he's not a Saint Bernard. The crazy dog is licking my face as if it was last night’s steak dinner.
“All right Tee. That's enough.”
I settle him in my arms. I didn’t want to put him down on the ground, as I'm not sure what is sharing this hole with us, if anything. There could be snakes and I didn't save my buddy just to have a snake bite him.
Snakes? Oh great. Now I've put that idea in my head. I really dislike snakes. I hope Angela gets back with that flashlight soon. I stand in the small circle of light that is filtering through the open hole. This has been a long morning.
“Dee! I got the flashlight and the satchel,” I hear Angela's voice overhead. Her head appears as she lowers the satchel and let’s go. I catch it with the hand that's not holding Tee.
“I put the flashlight inside. I spotted a ladder in one of the sheds. I'll drag it over here. Hang on.” She disappears again. I sure hope it doesn't take her long with the ladder. I want out of here.
I kneel down and search through the satchel. I find the nice heavy flashlight and turn it on. Still holding Tee, I move the light around. I don't see any snakes. I also don't see any other way out.
There are some old crates off to one side. The hole is bigger than I thought it would be. From what I can see, it's about twelve by twelve feet. Someone had used it as a space to throw old broken equipment into or stuff they didn’t need any more from the looks of things.
I'm not going to be down here long enough to worry about the crates. Angela should be here soon with the ladder.
I was beginning to worry about Angela when I hear her voice.
“Dee! I've got the ladder.” I hear metal clattering and see her pop her head over the hole again.
“I didn't know ladders could be so heavy. Let me catch my breath then I'll slide it down to you. I sure hope it's long enough.”
“Anything is better than nothing. Thanks, Angela.”
“OK, let's do this,” Angela says, as her head disappears again. I hear the metal of the ladder clatter again along with a muffled scream.
“Angela! You OK up there?” I hear nothing for several seconds.
“Angela!” A head appears over the hole once more. The face is in shadow, but the head sure doesn't look like Angela’s blonde head.
“Well, well, well. What do we 'ave here? It's Dorothy and her little dog Toto! Guess you ain't in Kansas anymore, eh?”
Crap. I know that voice. The thug from this morning.
“That must make you one of the flying monkeys then,” I answer. What's the jerk going to do? Throw me in a hole?
“Bitch! You broke my damn finger this morning.”
“Didn't your mother ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself? Consider it a lesson learned.”
“We'll see who learns what lesson. You'll 'ave a bit of time to learn yours. Have fun starving in your hole, bitch.”
I don't say anything. The jerk has a point. Dammit.
“Here I thought you would enjoy teaching me a lesson yourself.” Maybe I can goad him to get me out of this hole. At least I'd have more of a chance.
“I would normally, but I got orders to find the deed to this place. Bimbo here is gonna tell me where it's at. Eventually.”
I don't like the sound of his laugh as he disappears from view. I turn off my flashlight and step back into the dark. I also don't want to take any chances that he might try to shoot me instead.
Minutes pass without further noise or voices overhead. The sinking feeling in my gut tells me they're gone.
“Hey, jerk!” I yell. “Come and deal with me yourself! Or are you afraid of a woman?”
Nothing but silence answers me back.
Chapter Five
I turn the flashlight back on and take another look around. I guess I'm on my own getting out of here. I have no intention of Tee and I dying in some dark, dank hole in the ground. I put Tee down on the ground as I'm reasonably certain no snakes are here and I'm going to need both hands to deal with the situation.
I take stock of how high the hole is from me. It has to be at least fifteen feet, maybe closer to twenty. I wonder if the crates could help. I take a closer look. They look like your ordinary wooden crates, who knows how long they've been down here. I try to move one. Crap, they must have been down here for years as it just falls apart as I move it. There won't be any climbing up those.
I might not be able to climb them, but the crates will make a great fire. I don't know how long I'm going to be down here and I need to conserve the battery life in the flashlight. I’ll build a fire right under the hole. I figure it will act as a chimney and draw the smoke up. The fire will also give off plenty of light and warmth.
If I'm very lucky, the smoke will draw the attention of someone and they'll investigate. A long shot, but what else have I got?
I build a nice pile of wood from the crate. I search Tee's satchel, as I know there is a lighter in there somewhere. It's my brothers and I 'borrowed' it from him last time I saw him. OK, I stole it. He likes to smoke cigars occasionally and I hate the smell of the things, so I took his lighter and hid it in Tee's satchel. Yeah, childish I know, but my brother irritates me sometimes.
I find the lighter and I also find my phone. Why didn't I think of that before? I'll just dial 911 and get the hell out of here. I look at the phone and crap, there’s no cell service. I must be too deep inside the earth. My luck seems to have deserted me today.
Back to the fire. I light a small splinter of wood and stick it under the pile. It catches quickly and shoots upwards. I sit cross-legged in front of the fire and ponder my situation. It's not good. I hear Tee digging in the background. Ah, leave him at it. He'll tire quickly enough. I watch the fire flicker straight up. Without any breeze, it doesn't dance, as most fires will that are out in the open.
I lose track of how long I'm sitting in front of the fire. My eyes watch the flames, but my mind flashes through my short thirty-two years. Is this what knowing you are going to die is like? Remembering odd things like the time my brother Mac stole my crayons and melted them down in some kind of experiment. I remember I cried for days. I was about five at the time. My mom bought me a brand new box of sixty-four Crayola’s. The kind with the sharpener built in the box.
My mind finally registers what my eyes have been seeing for a while. The flames are dancing. I come out of my stupor fast. The flames are dancing! That means they are getting air from somewhere down here. If they are getting air from down here, that means the air is coming from somewhere other than this hole!
I hear very faint scratching sounds. Tee? Where the hell is Tee?
“Tee!” I yell as I try to stand up. My legs feel like pins and needles are stabbing them. I must have been sitting here feeling sorry for myself a lot longer than I thought.
“Tee!
” I call again as I switch the flashlight on and look around. I listen and hear faint scratching sounds. I sure hope while I was having a pity party Tee didn't get too curious and is stuck somewhere. I call out for him again and hear his barking from the side of the earthen room where I haven't yet searched. It doesn’t look like much is over there as all I can see are more broken crates.
The barking is coming from the other side of those broken crates. I walk behind them and spot a hole close to the ground. There’s a small pile of fresh dug dirt in front of the hole and the scratching sound is coming from inside of it. Tee? There is just enough room to kneel down next to the small Tee size hole, so I do and call his name again. Sure enough, the barking is coming from the hole.
I lower my head enough to put my eye to the hole and shine the light into it. That’s when I feel a slight breeze against my face. It's not fresh air like outside air would be, but it's a sight fresher than what I've been breathing. That means Tee has dug himself into a bigger space than here! Maybe there is a way out of here yet.
“Damn Tee, you might have saved our asses!” I say this aloud and watch a familiar small body scurry through the hole towards me. I sit up just as he reaches me. He is filthy, his tongue is hanging out with thirst and he's the best thing I've seen in ages. I hug him and set him back down. Now it's time to get my sorry butt to work. First, to move these crates so I can get better access to the hole. Second to start digging my way out just like Tee did. Even if I have to use my hands to do it.
“Tee, you are one smart dog. Let's get to work.”
I start to bust up the crates and build my fire higher. I still need to reserve the battery in the flashlight, as I don't know what's on the other side of this wall, I might need it. A good fifteen minutes later, I'm finally on the last crate and give it a kick to bust it up. This one isn't empty like the others as my foot connects with something solid inside.
I take a broken piece of a crate and start to dig through the insides of the box. I find a large mouse nest. That must be why Tee started digging at the wall. A mouse-hole. Under the nest, I hit something metal. I scrape the nest aside and see a shovel. My luck is turning! I push aside more of the nest and grab the shovel. Now this is something I can use. Ah, crap. I notice the shovel has no handle. Just a broken off piece of wood sticks up from the shovelhead. This must be where they threw broken tools away, as I come up to some more metal in the bottom of the crate. A broken pair of pliers that look to be decades old as it’s covered in rust. A few more pieces of tools, but nothing whole.