need to come out of the case. I buy gold to melt down. This is a collector’s item and is worth more than its weight. I’m just tryin’ to give you some good advice here.”
“So, take it out of the case.”
“Can only do that if we break the case. And like I said, I only buy by weight, not collector value.”
“I don’t care about that. I just want money for the gold.”
The old man dealt with thieves almost daily and ran the risk of problems with the law each time. Will was not an unfamiliar type of customer. “Look, young fellow. I’ll make you a deal. I reckon the weight of this package, with the coin is about half coin and half plastic. I won’t break the plastic if you’ll sell the gold based on half the weight here.” He tapped the plastic case. Carmine knew the exact value of the bullion proof dollar.
Will was quick to answer. “So, how much is that?”
“Well, let’s weigh it.” Carmine pushed the curtain back and let Will observe the digital scale, which read 2.8 ounces.
Will was excited that the gold was so heavy, but Carmine just shook his head slowly saying, “Okay, then. The coin is about one point four ounces by my estimation.”
Will answered, “So it’s worth over a thousand, right?”
“Well, no. You see, son, the mint doesn’t use pure gold. It alloys the metal with nickel to give it strength. Pure gold is too soft for coins. So this is only about half gold, about point seven ounces.” If Will had read the certificate left in the truck, it would said ninety-nine percent pure gold.
“What’s it worth then?”
“Well, gold is retailing about sixteen hundred dollars per ounce right now, but I pay wholesale. Got to make a profit, you know. Then there’s the waiting period. In Alabama, I gotta wait thirty days before I can sell it, casin’ it’s stolen or something.” Carmine looked askance at Will. “You won’t have any problem showing me some ID will you?”
Will fidgeted. He even considered bashing the old man and stealing whatever cash he had in the vault. “No. I got no problem.”
Carmine continued, “Also, there’s a little risk if’n I’m off on the gold weight, so I’ll give you eighty percent of the wholesale worth of the gold. How about that?”
In a deflated voice, Will asked, “How much?”
“Well. Let’s see. I figure four hundred fifty.”
“What! I got eight hundred in Atlanta!”
“Well, son, this ain’t Atlanta, and I know my goods. Consider yourself lucky that I’m even offering anything.”
Will was becoming nervous that this was some kind of a setup. “Okay, give me the money.”
Carmine smiled. “I thought you’d say that.”
Minutes later, Will was back on the Interstate with enough cash to live on for a few days. Carmine was busy calling the State police. He had a video of the man and had recorded the temporary license number of the truck when Will drove away. He ran an honest business, which often put him face-to-face with criminals. He was a master of avoiding harm, and avoiding suspicion by the law. He had no doubt the coin was stolen and expected that the rightful owner would reimburse him if it meant catching the thief. Maybe there would even be a reward. He’d been rewarded before.
On the road, Will felt relaxed. He had a great ride, more wealth in the back than he needed for a lifetime and started dreaming of the good life ahead. He would disappear forever, maybe in Mexico or someplace else warm. He turned on the radio and found a clear country and western station, and reached in his shirt pocket for a Winston. Life was good.
Alone Again
The toughest days were still ahead for Jake. He’d found Callie and reconnected with his past, then lost it all again. In two days, he would have a quiet funeral and bury her. He dreaded it. She’d looked so perfect in the hospital. Why did she have to die? He couldn’t go back on the work schedule before the funeral. He just had to be tough for a couple days. The phone rang. “Hello.”
“Mr. Ramsey? Jake Ramsey?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Ramsey, this is Jeremy Wallace of the FBI. Can we talk for a few minutes?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“First, sir, I talked to Patrolman Testa and want to express my sympathy for you. I don’t want to upset you if this is a bad time to talk about the case we’re building.”
“Look. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I’m okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“Can you come down to our New Orleans office, or can I come up to your place to talk?”
Jake didn’t want to be away from the phone in case more arrangements needed to be made for Callie. “Can you come here? I don’t feel like driving anywhere for a couple days.”
“That’s fine, sir. Is this afternoon all right, say around two?”
“Sure.”
Later that day Wallace arrived with another Agent, Isabel Link. Jake offered them a soft drink, then all sat in the living room.
Wallace began. “Sir. As I recall, you like to be called Jake. Please feel free to call us by our first names also. We’re on the same side in this.”
Wallace continued, “Okay, first I’d like to go over the police report from Savannah. Ms. Murray had some things with her and made some statements that could help us find her accomplice.”
Jake looked at them. “So, you’re sure there was someone else? Only one?” He knew there was one, but wanted to hear more details.
Wallace continued. “From all that we know so far, there were only two involved. Obviously, we can’t question Ms. Murray any further, so we can only go by what she told the police in Georgia, which was actually quite a lot. None of it has been verified, which maybe you can help with.”
“You know, I’ll try any way I can. I’d like to get my collection back.”
Wallace placed a legal notepad on the coffee table and looked at some notes. “Did you know what kind of car Ms. Murray was driving?”
“She didn’t have a car when she was with me.”
“Okay. Was she especially friendly with anyone, any relatives?”
“She said her mother was dead and no other relatives. I don’t know of any friends.” He thought for a minute. “She had one or two dates with one of our mechanics at work. His name is Will something.”
Wallace continued. “Good. We’ll get to him in a minute. Did she steal anything besides the coin collection and your credit card?”
“Yeah. I told all this to the Lafayette police before. First, I still don’t know if she actually stole anything.” He found himself awkwardly trying to defend a dead girl. “My gold coins were taken, and I gave an inventory to the Lafayette detectives. I discovered my credit card is gone too. In one of my safes, I had some guns. Two handguns are gone.”
“What kind of guns?”
“A Colt 1911 forty-five and a Beretta nine mil.”
“Was there anything else that she might have taken?”
“Like what?” Jake could sense that there was more that Wallace wasn’t disclosing.
“There was a metal box in the car she was driving that contained some letters.”
Jake stared at them for a moment. “I think those might be letters from Bobby Lowe to his girlfriend Julie. Would be about thirty years old, same age as Callie.”
Wallace acknowledged with a head shake. “Do these belong to you?”
“I guess they do. They were written by my buddy, my copilot, in the Army to his girlfriend.”
“Why would Ms. Murray take them from you?”
“She didn’t, I guess. She brought them with her to show me, to prove she was Callie Lowe, which I guess isn’t true.”
“So, who would they belong to now?”
“She said her mother was dead, so I guess they’re as much mine as anyone’s now. She mentioned them in the hospital, but I didn’t know what she meant.”
Agent Link said, “I’ve been doing the background research on Ms. Murray, and
her mother is actually dead. She died in Abilene last year, but her name wasn’t Julie or anything close.”
Wallace added. “We’re investigating her death as well, as this case expands.”
Jake asked, “Expands? Expands to what?”
Wallace explained. “We’re not sure where this crime spree began, or how broad it is. You appear to be the main target, but there are some other factors. For example, the car Ms. Murray was driving in Georgia belonged to a single woman who lived next to Murray’s mother in Texas. The lady has been missing for months, and her car turned up in Savannah with Ms. Murray. There’s a good possibility that the woman was murdered.”
Jake said, “You know, I’m not the best judge of character, but Callie was no killer.”
“Maybe not, but she may have been involved someway.”
Jake was trying to process it all when Wallace returned to his notes. “So, Jake. When the investigation is over, do you get the letters?”
“I guess so.”
Wallace shifted subjects. “Let’s talk about Will Ryan, the mechanic at your helicopter company.” Jake nodded. “When did you notice he wasn’t at work?”
Jake thought, “I don’t know exactly. I’ve been through a lot recently, haven’t been to work much. I used to drive him to work in the morning, but it’s been a couple weeks since the last time.”
Wallace acknowledged. “According to people there, he just didn’t show up one morning. Did he have a car?”
Jake answered, “He had an old pickup that didn’t run well, and some kind of sedan that was always covered with a tarp. He said it didn’t run.”
Wallace continued. “We investigated the house he