Chapter 11
Creepy Crawlies of all sorts and our hero finds that dreams are just that, even for heroes
Elgin sat with Humph sprawled over his lap blissfully asleep making sleeping cat noises, Elgin’s hand caressed the silky smooth fur over the cats shoulder as he stared up at the dark blue of the pre dawn sky. The officials had almost mobbed his bike when he brought it to a stop with Zephyr Michaels asleep on his shoulder. They’d carried the unconscious deputy away and he hadn’t seen her since.
He’d then been ‘interviewed’ by agents of the nation, state, and county, one by one, each asking pretty much the same questions, which may have been cross checking, but he suspected was simply bureaucracy at work. He’d told them that he’d found her on the lane coming out of the Claws lodge, he’d explained he’d gone to talk to his uncle about the occurrences of the night. The fact that he was a relative of Eugene Walker AKA Claw, apparently put him on the State Troopers’ and feds’ suspect list, but Caitlin had obviously known.
Elgin had half expected the Claws to arrive a few minutes after he did and a full scale battle to ensue, but nothing of the sort happened. The night had remained quiet except for the island of light and bustle around the sheriff’s building. As the first blue had appeared in the east a whole convoy of vehicles had formed up and driven off, leaving the parking lot almost empty except for a few deputies.
One of the deputies was the lanky gum chewer he’d met a few times. The sandy haired man had a bad case of freckles which seemed extremely prominent today and his pale green eyes red rimmed. He, like the other deputies, had a riot gun slung over his shoulder, the strap stuffed with extra rounds for the weapon. There was something about the man that made Elgin uncomfortable, unlike the others, this one kept glancing at Elgin, and almost as frequently he glanced at the wing of the office building with the red cross on the door, where Zeph was hopefully resting peacefully.
After a while Humph woke up and rolled off Elgin’s lap, his eyes wide and dark, ears and nose twitching. The big cat was hungry and smelt something he considered edible nearby. Hopefully it wasn’t somebody’s Chihuahua or prized Cockatoo. Elgin took the opportunity to lie down on the bench and close his eyes.
Jake Dewey was almost beside himself by the time the cowboy decided to take a nap. He had almost bolted when he saw Michaels on the back of the redneck’s bike. He’d held on while doing his best to stay in the shadows, as far as he could tell the girl was still unconscious and no one had spotted anything wrong with the comm records from last evening. Dewey was pretty good at cracking systems so he was pretty sure it would take a very thorough check of the system to find what he had hidden, but the feds, if not the state criminal investigation unit, had the firepower to do the job if they decided to look
Dewey had been the Wiggins ‘inside man’ for several years now, they’d hired him to come and take the job of a Deputy here in Beauty, and he’d been drawing double pay ever since, a sweet deal. Especially since he’d been able to make some nice scores of his own off data he trolled out of the county system. In Beauty the sheriff was not only the chief law enforcement officer but also the highest elected official in the county, essentially the chief executive. She ran the court, the office of deeds and chaired the county council which dealt with infrastructure etc. With a finger in every pie the sheriff had access to all the county IT systems, such as they were, and what the sheriff had access to, Jake Dewey had access to.
All of this was threatening to fall in on his head because of the fucking bikers and their fucking peninsula. He understood the lodge was a near perfect base of operations, giving them access by land, water and even air. But it was only a piece of land and it would have only been a short term setback if they had just let go. Jake Dewey could have stayed as agent in place for them and the Wiggins and they would have owned the whole damned county in another few years, including the damned luxury resort the Tribe wanted to build in the Den.
Earlier, just after the cowboy arrived, he’d called the Wiggins, told them what was going on, that he was getting ready to bug out. The Wiggins had told him to hold on, and that they’d be back in touch. He was a criminal but he had his ethics so he’d waited. Now it was getting late and he was almost beyond waiting. Then he saw a familiar figure strolling towards him, Sally Wiggins was supposedly ‘the good girl,’ in the Wiggins clan, and supposedly Jake’s girlfriend. She was a good looking girl, ex cheerleader, ex captain of the high school debating society, a friend to all, etc, etc. But Jake had found that she was as cold as her brothers and much less obviously devious, he was sure that in the long run it would be Sally who ran the Wiggins empire.
She smiled sweetly, “Hey Jake, glad to see you up and around, all sorts of rumors flyin round town.” Grabbing his arm she rubbed herself against him and gave him a peck on the cheek, all very Norman Rockwell. He felt a package being pushed into his hand. She rubbed her breasts against his arm again and stepped back, giving him an under the eyelashes look, pitching her voice to be heard by others, “You goin to be UP, to telling me what its all about later?” The smile was sweet, the eyes cold and she finished quietly, “Drop the package in the girls room and leave, and keep your cool you moron, we have this.” Another sweet smile, “I gotta go, morning shift at the Buffalo Cafe.” She blew him a kiss as she walked away.
Dewey stared after her until she was out of sight. He really wanted her body, badly, but he was frightened spit-less by the mind behind the sweet oval face and soft brown eyes. In his funk of confusion and sleep deprivation he almost forgot and dropped the package she had pressed into his hand. Jerking back to now when it started to slip, he almost cried out, then tried to make the jerk into a stretch and yawn, ending with him sliding what felt like a paper wrapped marble into his pocket.
The cowboy was asleep, Dewey walked around the perimeter of the sheriff’s compound, told one of the others he needed to pee and went indoors through a door that led into the changing rooms. He did his business and was getting ready to do what he’d been told to do when curiosity finally burrowed through worry and fatigue.
What felt like a candy looked like one at first glance, white wax paper over something hard and round, about the size of one of the GobStopper chewing gums he’d gotten for a dime out of the machine when he was a kid. He untwisted the paper, and nearly dropped the thing, it was no unlikely bright fruit color, instead it was a reddish brown and segmented, like a huge pill bug. As light and fresh air touched it, antenna’s unfurled and started to wave. With a squeak Jake re-wrapped the little horror, now utterly sure he didn’t want anything more to do with Sally Wiggins than he had to.
Still shaking a little he moved to the end of the changing room and looked out, the bland tan painted hallway was empty and he heard nothing. He exited and walked towards the dispensary. Another turn and he was walking towards the cluster of doors that represented the sheriff department’s health and human services. The end left door was the two bed ward.
Between him and the door the cowboys overgrown housecat sat as still as a statue, its tail curled around so the red brown tip tapping the floor almost like a man tapping his finger in impatience. Two huge blue eyes seemed to stare right through him.
Dewey put the ‘package’ in his pocket and pulled the Tazer from its holster. It was a contact weapon, not one of the fancy dart throwing jobs but for a cat, even a huge cat, it should do the job. He walked forward, the cat showed its teeth in silence, something that seemed very uncatlike. And the teeth were fearsome, he’d forgotten that a cats main weapon was its mouth.
There was a rumble in the hallway, Dewey realized that the cat was growling, but the growl was so deep and so powerful it sounded like a big diesel idling nearby. Now the cat came to its feet, its tail lashing. Jake knew that he couldn’t shoot the cat, and now the Tazer seemed like far too flimsy a defense. What to do, then he realized the door to the room with the girl in it was open, all he had to do was toss the package
in.
He held up his hands, started backing up, “Wooow, guard kitty, wooow, I’m going, its just Jake, old uncle Jake leaving.” He said in a singsong, sliding the Tazer away as he backed up slowly, the cat sat back down but the tail was still lashing, the body tense and the huge eyes narrowed and watchful.
The package almost made him scream, it was squirming now, he pulled it out, and he focused, he’d been a very good pitcher in high school and a better rock thrower in a series of anarchist riots during the years his parents thought he was at college. He focused, wound up and threw, he hardly saw the cat uncurl, reach up and bat the white ball back at him. Instinct made Jake duck and it cracked against the closet doorframe a few feet behind him.
He had the shotgun in his hand and had racked a round before he remembered he couldn’t shoot the cat. There was a hissing sound behind him, the whatever it was had unwrapped to a multi legged, armored millipede with massive pinchers on the front. Antenna waving it advanced on him, accelerating at a ridiculous rate. The shotgun roared and kicked like a mule, tearing itself out of his hands. Staggering back, fumbling for the weapon, he saw a red and green smear on the floor around where the horror had been an instant before, the linoleum, wall, door and frame were all chewed by the avalanche of pellets but the little horror was gone.
“What the hell!” Dewey spun. Zeph Michaels stood in the door of the ward staring at him, the cat was crouched ready to charge. It was all far to much for Jake Dewey, he had the riot gun back in his hand, he brought it up, around, racking it as he did, and the weapon roared again, blowing a huge chunk out of the doorframe and the closing door. The cat was airborne and hit him with five weapons simultaneously, Dewey screamed as he fell back under the massive animal’s attack, with the riot gun held like a baton he slammed the animal in the gut then levered it off. With a wild cat scream it twisted off him and leapt away, Jake racked another round and fired. But the cat was gone.
All logic and control gone, he rolled back and charged for the ward door.
From the short hall to the outside he heard the door crash open, heard, “Dewey?”
Dewey twisted and fired, sending the other deputy crashing back through the door, blocking the advance of two others. His boot hit the lock of the ward door and it splintered inwards. Cool morning wind blew in through a window that gaped wide. He charged for the window, saw a fleeting figure, fired, racked, fired, and then started to climb through the window.
A powerful hand grabbed him by the shirt front and pulled. Jake’s face met an iron hard fist coming the other way and the world went black.
-o-
Zeph woke up warm and floating in softness, behind her eyelids she could see light and she could hear music and voices nearby but not too nearby. She could smell horses and dust and cows, then heard the clop of hooves and the whinny of a horse. The basso rumble of the natural gas powered forklift used for moving feed bales. The sounds of the ranch, so normal so natural.
She tried to move and some of the goodness and light fled as every muscle and joint she tried to flex cried out. Relaxing, she tried to regain that sense of floating peacefulness and almost succeeded, almost. But in her minds eye memories replayed like a movie, a man turning to smoke and then a nightmare creature. The look of utter horror on Jake Dewey’s face as he looked at something on the floor he’d just blown to scraps, then the glittering hate as he brought the riot gun around to point at her. Jumping, falling out that window in nothing more than a damned hospital gown, the rocky soil tearing at her feet as she ran, the flash boom of Dewey shooting at her naked butt running for the trees.
“No, steady girl, steady,” She whispered to herself, then remembered the old de-stressing mantra she’d been taught, “Be. Here. Now.” Trying to push thought and image aside, “Be. Here. Now.” And she focused her thoughts on her body, on her smallest toe first then piece by piece the rest. At the end she was almost relaxed, but now her body was beginning to make demands.
Opening her eyes she let the familiarity of her bedroom absorb some of her attention.
There was a knock on the door, “Miss Zeph, you awake?” very softly.
“Yes Hong.”
The little Taiwanese valet poked his head around the door, “You want something to drink, a tea maybe, a couple of biscuits?”
“I feel like I could down a gallon of Gatorade and couple of pots of horse meat gumbo Hong, but tea and biscuits sounds like a good start.” She tried to smile.
He bobbed his head, “Dinner in an hour?”
“Sounds divine, can I get a shower while you make the tea?”
Hong bobbed again, “Certainly Miss Zeph.” He turned to go.
Zeph frowned realizing something, “Hong, what are you doing here?” The Valet usually either stayed with the big apartment in Manhattan or took the chance to visit relatives on Taipei during ‘Ranch Season,’
“Mr. Smith sent for me a few days ago Miss Zeph, Mrs. Smith is feeling poorly and Mr. Smith wanted her to rest.” He smiled slightly, bowed and left.
Zeph groaned, one more thing to worry about, mother never got sick, or at least never admitted to it.
Getting to the shower was something of an ordeal, but the shower itself was a relaxing delight. She sat down on the seat in the shower and peeled off the outer dressings on the various cuts and abrasions. Any of the deeper wounds had been bio glued and clear sealed, the worst abrasions just bio coated and clear sealed, wonders of modern medicine. Out of the shower she took a couple of pain tabs and put protective outer bandages on the few spots that needed additional buffering. Underwear, silk shirt, jeans, flats and she was ready for, something.
Hong had the tea setup in the tiny hallway nook outside her room with its view of the mountains out the big bow window that filled the hallway with light. She sat down and poured herself a cup of tea like a civilized human being, the aches more easily ignored. The tea was strong and hot and with just the right amount of sugar and milk it was a heavenly buffer against the darkness she had lived through.
“How’re you doing Wind,” Her father asked as he came from the great room and offices.
“Well, thank you Dad,” She shot him a look, “What’s wrong with Mother?”
He shrugged, smiled, “No one thing, age, trying to act like she was still thirty two not sixty two, running her little business, going to this that and the other party. She ended up with walking pneumonia and I called in Hong.”
So, nothing profound, just the natural sadness of the human condition. Zeph nodded and took another sip of tea, waved at the second chair, “Have a seat, have some tea?”
He took the seat waved the tea aside, he was looking serious, “The sheriff called to ask how you were doing.”
Zeph looked at her nano’s clock face, “I’ll check in after dinner.” She blinked, realizing that it was Saturday not Friday like she had thought. “Uh, I guess I lost a day.”
He looked a little concerned, “The doctor was in a couple of times yesterday and this morning, you don’t remember talking to him, or to the sheriff?”
She frowned, realized she did remember, hazily, fatigue, pain and pain medication had made the experiences surreal, dreamlike. “Ugh, I guess I do, just didn’t want to.”
“Oh, well I suppose that’s natural enough.” He looked away, then up, “Look I know you thought this undercover job was a bit of a lark, a change after the Derrick fiasco, but I never liked it and now I want you to put it behind you. Your mother was in hysterics when the sheriff told us you were missing, and again when they brought you home, telling us some lunatic had tried to kill you at the sheriff’s office.” He swallowed, “You’re a lawyer Zeph, a good one, at a good firm, this is not the way a good lawyer gets ahead. The National Guard thing was bad enough but I could understand that if you ever want to get into politics. But we hire private investigators for this sort of horse shit.” It was a sign of how upset he was that he used that crude term.
Zeph closed her eyes, “
Okay dad.”
He was silent, “Okay?”
“Dad I was getting bored before this last blow up, I just wanted to see if the feds could actually nail the Claws once and for all.” She leaned back, tried to look relaxed as she slid her hands into her lap so he couldn’t see that her hands were shaking.
“Oh.” He seemed shrink a little as the relief flooded his face.
They sat in silent companionship soaking the warm sun in.
“Did the Sheriff just want me to call?” she asked at last, nibbling on one of the biscuits Hong had left for her.
“Uh! Oh no, she wanted to see how you were doing, nothing else, said you could call on Monday if you want.”
Zeph nodded smiled. Then Hong appeared, “Dinner is served, sir, miss.”
-o-
Elgin stood up as the door of the holding cell opened and the sheriff stepped in. Standing facing each other neither of them let their faces reflect their true feelings. Which in Elgin’s case was irritation and sympathy, and in the sheriff’s case was irritation, confusion and a desire, utterly illogical as far as she could tell, to ask Elgin what the hell was going on.
“You’ve not called for a lawyer Mr. Chalmers.”
“I’m not going to ask for one until I know what the problem is Caitlin. The Deputy who insisted that I come down here mentioned manslaughter or second degree murder, but wouldn’t say of whom. Have to guess it’s the man I knocked out.”
She rubbed her eyes, “Dewey died this morning, the doctor is still trying to figure out of what.”
“I’d guess he never explained why he cut Deputy Michaels off or tried to kill her later.”
“He told us to get stuffed and to call his lawyer, a high power, expensive shyster from Salt Lake City.”
“Uhm.”
“Indeed, I think this explains some things that have been puzzling me lately. The Wiggins and their cronies have been making some very smart land deals and winning some contracts I’d have sworn should have gone to other contractors. Because I have a finger in so many pies, someone in my office has a lot of access, Dewey was a godsend when he turned up. Turns out he was too good to be true.”
“I saw him talking to Sally Wiggins, a little while before the incident, she made it pretty evident they were intimate.”
The sheriff snorted, “‘Sweet Sally?’ she’s kept her nose clean but I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could shot-put her sweet little ass. Her grandmother was a real beauty but was convicted of poisoning five men and hung back in the fifties.”
“I can’t imagine Dewey went in intending to kill Zephyr with his shotgun. But you didn’t find anything like a syringe or some other way of delivering poison.” Elgin was frowning.
“No, but there are some real strange bits to the crime scene.”
Elgin lifted an eyebrow in polite enquiry, and she continued, “His first shot appears to have been at the floor next to a closet, and the forensics team says there’s bits from some kind of big bug. And Zeph says he looked completely freaked out by something the first time she saw him, after that first shot.”
“Did anyone visit Dewey in the jail infirmary?”
“He shouldn’t have had any visitors,” She snapped, but her expression was grim as she pulled out her cell phone.
She stabbed at it like she wanted to drive her finger through the screen, “Yeah, its Caitlin, did anyone visit Dewey last night, I know it’s against policy, but I know the drill?” Her face went a bit gray and her eyes narrowed but all she said was, “Thanks.” She slipped the phone away, and looked at Elgin, “Sally talked her way in, it was Dewey who called the nurse to have the girl shown out. He was visibly distraught for several minutes after the visit.”
“Then he died.”
“A couple of hours later, but yes.”
The sheriff waved Elgin forward, “Come on, I’ll get you a ride back to the ranch.”
-o-
It was after seven when Zephyr sat down in the big old wingback in her room and put her feet up on the ottoman. She tapped the face of her watch, “ZeeZee, call Caitlin.”
“The sheriff left a message for you to call her at the office Zeph,” the phone replied.
“Put me through ZeeZee.”
“That you Zeph?” The sheriff’s voice was gruff.
“Yes Caitlin, you called?”
“Was getting a bit worried girlfriend, doc said you were still out of it this morning.”
“Just needed sleep, lots of sleep apparently, I’m still aching but things seem to be on the mend. But I’ve been out of it for two days. I wasn’t going to upset Dad by grilling him about what’s been going on. So? What’s been happening?”
Zeph could almost feel Caitlin rubbing her eyes, “Yeah, two days, two nights, you’ve been sleeping, while I’ve been mostly awake.”
“Sorry,” Zeph said with true contrition.
“Not your fault kid.” A pause, “Well, to the good, the Evil Eagle Claw Motorcycle Club is gone. We took Chalmers testimony to the judge and he gave us a search warrant. By the time we arrived, they were gone, a couple of the buildings were on fire; we can tell they destroyed a lot of evidence but that’s about it. They didn’t have enough time to do a clean sweep, so the feds got some juicy stuff, but its all just part of a bigger puzzle, I doubt it’ll be enough to nail anyone.”
“What about the Den, they were breaking into the lock boxes when I turned up, did they get a chance to finish the job?”
“One of the boxes was opened, we can’t tell what they took or what got burnt up, but none of it was important, the other two were complete and of course the most important pieces aren’t there anyway. The Claws abandonment means we can move more quickly than planned. One of the things I wanted to ask about was how quickly you would be ready to head back east and go back to lawyering.”
Everyone wanted her to go back to her real job, she felt a flicker of stubborn pride, she thought she’d done pretty well overall.
And the sheriff seemed to be avoiding some topics.
“Uh Caitlin, what about RonJon, I heard Dewey shot him?”
“Grumpy, but recovering, thanks to his flack vest.”
“What about Dewey, last I remember he was being hauled off in a gurney.”
A long silence.
“Caitlin?”
“He died yesterday morning Zeph, I was thinking I was going to have to arrest Elgin for manslaughter. Then the we found out that he’d been killed by some kind of neurotoxin - something bit him.”
Zeph remembered her view of Dewey in the hallway after the blast of his riot gun had catapulted her out of bed. “There was something in the hallway that freaked him out; I think it’s what gave him away.”
“Traces of the toxin have been found there, along with what appear to be parts of a large millipede like bug.”
“Ugh.” Zeph shivered, “I guess that was supposed to be my fate then.”
“Yeah, the bastard got a taste of his own poison.” The sheriff replied, her own voice a little shaky.
There was a long silence, then “Zeph, what the hell happened in that building. The state fire inspector and FBI forensics team say someone blew it apart from the inside with a grenade launcher and flame thrower.
Zeph wanted to say something, found tears trickling down her cheeks but could not find the words for the bizarreness that had wrapped itself around her two nights before.
The sheriff spoke again, “Zeph, please, we’re friends as well as allies. We need each other and we need to know who else to trust.”
That broke the logjam in her head, “Caitlin, you told me about a friend of yours a witch doctor type who said there was something evil in town?”
“Griffith TwoShoes, Elgin Chalmers boss?”
“Yeah, we need to talk to him and to Elgin and I think Kitty Pauls, I think they all know more than they are saying.”
The sheriff didn’t hesitate, “Okay, look Zeph, right now I don’t trust my office, or equ
ipment completely, can we meet up at you pa’s place? This evening.”
“Say eight thirty?”
“Done.”
-o-
Elgin was packing up the camper getting ready to move, when the owner’s daughter knocked on the door of the Air-Stream. “Mr. Chalmers.”
He thumped his head as he pulled back out of the storage cupboard. So he was rubbing the back of his head when he stepped into the kitchen and could look out to see Zeph being greeted with some enthusiasm by Humph. She was smiling, stroking him as he wound around her legs, as big as he was she had to brace herself to keep from getting knocked down and this made her giggle. It only emphasized how pretty she was, how striking in an understated way.
“Miss Zephyr.” She was in ranch casual, jeans, open neck shirt, simple slip on shoes instead of boots. She’d obviously just walked over from the main building. He’d have called her Deputy Michaels if she’d been in uniform.
She looked up the smile on her lips and in her eyes still bright, filling his rather gray day with a sparkle he needed. “Hello Mr. Chalmers,” she waved at the parts of the veranda in the back of the Chevy which was pulled up near the hitch. “What’s going on?”
He shrugged, “The Boss let me go, never did like the part time deal. Then the sheriff hauled me in on suspicion of manslaughter and he had to send some out to the high range, he figures I’m not worth the trouble.” Elgin wasn’t happy but he wasn’t upset about it.
“That’s not fair, he’s got no right, you need to talk to dad!” she looked angry.
Elgin shrugged, “You’re a lawyer Miss Zephyr, the employment contract is clear cut about missing a shift for any reason other than sickness or injury. He’s the Boss and he’s got the right to run his crew the way he wants to.”
She didn’t protest that, instead she frowned up at him, “You don’t seem upset by this.”
“All that would do would satisfy Mitch some and waste energy, there are other spreads I can go talk to. I’d like to stay close by but in the end I’ll go where I’m needed.” If things unfolded as he expected he’d have to spend most of his time other places in the coming years. Cutter-Iffrit had never had a settled home.
“What about the garage, can’t you do that full time?” She seemed more upset about this than he was, which gave him a warm feeling.
He waved at the horizon, “Probably, but I need to be out and about under the sky, I’ll certainly talk to TwoShoes about the garage.”
She shook her head, with a cross expression, “Oh, I got distracted, actually you’ll be able to talk to him in a half hour or so, he’s coming up with the sheriff to talk about the last few days.”
“Okay,” He felt a twinge of concern from his interior compatriots. He frowned at the sudden urge to unfold and make an aerial reconnaissance. He found his eyes locked on the old bunk house and realized that there was nothing to stop Mitch from having bugged the Smith-Samson ranch.
“What’s the matter Elgin.”
He blinked, looked down at her, grimaced, “Mitch has connections to the Claws, and it’s likely that he’s been using the ranch for something to do with them. The sheriff can’t do anything about him because she has nothing but suspicion and your father is feared as a lawyer as well as liked and respected as a local resident.”
She made a little oh, “Why didn’t she talk to me?”
Elgin shrugged, “Probably because our sheriff tends to focus on one thing at a time. She may have hoped solving the problem with the Claw would sweep him up as well.”
“Dad thinks the tribe’s been sold a bill of goods by the developers who are pushing the Den resort and that while the Claws are criminals it’s the town and tribe that are causing the trouble.”
“Needless to say he wasn’t happy about your latest career choice?”
“Uh, no,.” and she glanced down, scuffed her foot, then looked at him, “But not because of the career piece. I’m not a deputy. Well I am on the books and drawing salary, but it’s a special deal with the Sheriff, I’m on sabbatical from Petters, Petters, Faulken and Christchurch, the law firm that the tribe hired to get the title to the den cleared.”
“Ah,” Elgin sighed inside but went on, “I see. That was why Dewey was after you. Was it you who found the piece of the puzzle that knocked their claim into the ditch?”
She nodded her head, “This area was under federal control before it was returned to the Indian tribes. The feds deeded several pieces out before the tribal area was declared. The feds grandfathered the deeds, let the living tenant live out their life but at death the land reverted to the tribe. All of the parcels except the ones dealing with the den. There are records of records that the feds did the same thing but the family who owned those parcels were all ex confederate supporters and hated the fed, and the Indians for that matter. They apparently succeeded in finding and destroying the documents. Leaving them holding the land under the original federal parcel deeds.”
“Okay,” Elgin nodded, “So what did you do, go back in time and rescue them?”
She smiled, “I suppose in a sense. Even in those days they had copies and back copies, and while the private investigator the Walkers hired did a good job, they did not do an outstanding job. I found the copies in the Library of Congress, uncatalogued except for a date and a bureau number.”
Elgin blinked, “The Walkers?”
She nodded, “The family who owned the Den and the land behind it. The head was a Confederate General who moved out here after the war to start fresh. He’d come from plantation money and the family was ruined by the war and reconstruction.”
“Did Eugene inherit the property?”
She blinked, smiled faintly, “Eugene Walker you mean,” at his nod she shrugged, “He and his brother Victor Walker were disinherited by their mother, who had inherited the deed. She sent a letter to the tribe telling them that they would receive the deeds to the property when she died. There was a will, but it vanished from her lawyer’s safety deposit box. He had accessed the box a few days before his death. That was when the tribe hired Petters.”
Elgin wondered if he should point out that he was a Walker by blood if not by name. That Eugene was his uncle.
But at that moment the sheriffs brown SUV came into sight.