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Authors: Kent Conwell

Tags: #Mystery, #Detective

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BOOK: An Unmarked Grave
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But it wasn't at all difficult to be skeptical when I heard
about the UFO that had crashed into a windmill just north of
Fort Worth, Texas, over a hundred years earlier. I never believed in UFOs, so when I looked into the coffin in which the
alien craft's pilot had allegedly been buried, I was stunned
when I spotted white skeletal remains.

The only problem was, they were not the bones of a threefoot-tall alien but of a six-foot human who had been cut in
half and jammed into the small wooden casket.

At my shoulder, Jack Edney muttered a soft curse. "That
sure don't look like any midget I've ever seen"

One thing about Jack, he had a knack for cutting to the
heart of the matter.

A month earlier in Austin, my boss, Marty Blevins, had
called me into his office and introduced me to Patricia Ann
Chester.

I smiled and nodded, quickly taking in her appearance,
which at a glance screamed money. Wearing a tan business
suit, she was a tad overweight, but not a strand of her dark
hair was mussed, her nails were perfectly done in a soft pink
to match her lipstick, and the diamonds on her slender fingers almost blinded me. "Mrs. Chester."

She smiled becomingly. In a soft, almost inaudible voice
she said, "I never married, Mr. Boudreaux" Before I could
reply, she continued. "Mr. Blevins has told me about you. I
hope you can help."

Arching an eyebrow at Marty, I replied. "I'll do my best,
Ms. Chester."

Her eyes smiled. "Please, call me Tricia."

I liked her right away. "All right, Tricia. I'm Tony."

Marty cleared his throat. "Miss Chester wants us to locate her younger brother, Justin"

I glanced at her, wondering why someone her age, which
I guessed was the upside of forty, had never married.

A slight blush colored her cheeks. "He's been missing fifteen years." She forced a self-conscious smile. "Obviously,"
she added apologetically, "we're not what you might call a
close family, Tony."

Years in the PI business have taught be to keep a straight
face, which I managed even as I pondered what I considered the understatement of the year. I remained silent.

Within my family in Church Point, Louisiana, if the older
folks went a week without seeing the other members of our
family around the parish, they'd wring their hands and go to
confession.

Tricia continued. "I don't know if you've ever heard of
Colorado Motors here in Austin, but my father owned it"

I raised an eyebrow. Who hadn't heard of Colorado Motors? "Yes"

"He passed away two weeks ago"

"Sorry," I muttered. "I read about it."

She smiled sadly. "There are four of us children-me;
Frank, who is the oldest; a sister, Vanessa; and Justin.
He's the youngest by ten years" She paused, staring at
her hands as she twisted the rings on her perfectly manicured fingers. "Justin was always the kind who wanted to
go his own way. He was a late-in-life baby. Mother died
in childbirth."

And then good old Marty muttered, "I'm sorry. Which
child?"

Tricia looked at me in surprise.

I know Marty meant the remark to be commiserating.
More times than I could count, he had stepped neck-deep
into a faux pas of unbelievable depth, and this was no exception. Smiling feebly at her, I replied to his question.
"Justin, the youngest one, Marty"

"Oh" He nodded somberly, never realizing his blunder.

Taking a deep breath, I turned back to Tricia. "Fifteen
years, you say? Any idea where he might be?"

She shook her head briefly. "No" She paused and added
softly, "I'm sorry"

With renewed exuberance Marty replied. "Not to worry, Ms. Chester. If he's alive, we'll find the young man for you.
Isn't that right, Tony?"

I grimaced at his lack of sensitivity, but then, that was
Marty.

Her eyes flickered at the momentary pain his words
caused. She set her jaw. "I hope he is alive, Mr. Blevins. I
hope you can find him. I am well aware that fifteen years is
more than enough time for a person to hide himself if he
doesn't want to be found"

I nodded. "That could be a possibility. But then again, he
might want to be found"

She seemed a genuinely concerned woman. While her
dress, her appearance, suggested money, I didn't know how
much until she added, "Yes. My father's estate exceeds forty
million dollars" Her eyes grew steely. "I want Justin to have
his share"

I have no idea why I asked the question, but I did. "Is
there any reason he shouldn't, providing we find him?"

Her delicately made-up cheeks blushed deeper. "My
brother and sister are-" She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip, her thin eyebrows knit. "The truth is, Tony, I don't
know really how to put it other than neither would lose a
night's sleep if Justin never returned. Frank suggested putting Justin's share into some kind of interest-bearing trust
until he returned"

I shrugged. That didn't seem out of line until she added,
"With a three-year time limit on his return"

Arching an eyebrow, I replied. "Somehow I get the feeling your older brother doesn't want to find Justin."

Her brows knit further.

Before she could reply, I asked. "What about your sister?
What was her name? Vanessa?"

Tricia's face grew hard. "Vanessa wanted to have Justin
declared dead twice in the last eight years. Father refused
adamantly, but I have no doubt she is trying to do so now, even
if it means sharing Justin's ten million with Frank and me"

Marty glanced at me with raised eyebrows. Reading his
mind, I nodded. "Do they know you've come to us?"

She glanced at her hands in her lap. "No" She raised her
eyes defiantly. "They have nothing to say about it. I'll cover
your fee myself"

Marty shrugged. "Fine with me"

I held up a hand. "You need to tell them"

She nodded. "I know. I-I was wondering if you could
be with me when I do"

Her request caught me by surprise. I stammered. "Well ..

Marty replied for me. "He'll be happy to, Ms. Chester."

I glared at Marty.

She beamed. "Fine. Make it around seven tonight. That's
when we have evening cocktails"

Suppressing a wry smile, I dipped my head in agreement.
The only time I had cocktails at seven was when I escorted
Janice Coffman-Morrison, my on-again, off-again significant
other, to one of her charitable soirees. Otherwise my "evening cocktail" was usually a Diet Coke or an Old Milwaukee
(when I felt like ducking AA) and a hamburger at 5:45. "No
problem," I replied. "See you then"

I whistled in awe when I glimpsed the Chester mansion
from the highway. The sprawling residence sat on a hill overlooking Lake Travis west of Austin. At a couple minutes after seven, I pulled into the circular drive in front of
a redbrick edifice that reminded me of Tara in Gone With
the Wind, complete with a three-story portico supported by
fluted Ionic columns with scrolled capitals.

A matronly woman with her gray hair pulled back into a
bun opened the door. I guessed she was in her fifties. She
wore a tiny lace apron over a black dress that came to just
below her knees.

I introduced myself, and she nodded. "This way please,"
she replied succinctly, turning on her heel and leading me
through a spacious foyer and hallway to an airy dayroom in
the rear overlooking the lake below.

Tricia hurried to meet me, a strained smile on her face.
She had changed into a simple dark blue dress with a light
blue sash around the waist. She extended her hand. "Thank
you for coming, Tony" She paused, then whispered, "I just
told them"

I nodded with a smile, which faded when I met the cold
eyes of Frank and Vanessa Chester. I forced the smile back
to my lips as Tricia introduced me to her siblings.

Vanessa sat primly on the edge of a red velour wing chair,
glaring at me. Her hair was almost blue-black with a white
streak running down the middle. She wore a light-colored
blouse and tan slacks. I couldn't help thinking of Elsa Lanchester in The Bride of Frankenstein. I suppressed a smile.

On the coffee table in front of her was a platter of hors
d'oeuvres-some sort of vegetables with melted cheese on
top.

His thick fingers cradling a cocktail, Frank Chester stood
with his back to the windows overlooking the lake. Filling out a gray three-piece suit abundantly, he appeared to be in
his late fifties. His gray hair gave him a look of distinction,
but his florid jowls told me he had tossed down a few cocktails too many that evening.

He nodded sharply, his eyes narrowing. He inclined his
head toward the coffee table. "Would you care for a snack,
Mr. Boudreaux? Artichoke bruschetta. Quite delicious."

I shook my head. "No, thanks. I grabbed a bite earlier." It
was a lie, but the thought of artichoke bruschetta, whatever
it was, held no appeal for me. I'd eat pimento cheese before
I'd take a bit of that bruschetta stuff.

He shot a wicked glance at his younger sister, then fixed
his black eyes on mine. "As you wish. You should know,
Mr. Boudreaux, that I heartily disapprove that Tricia engaged your company to search for my brother."

Irked by his brusque tone, I replied lightly. "After fifteen
years, chances are a man doesn't want to be found. If so, it
can be nearly impossible to locate him, Mr. Chester." I inclined my head toward Tricia. "I explained that to your sister earlier. And I'll tell you, chances are slim"

Frowning, he studied me for a moment. I had the distinct
feeling the possibility had never occurred to him that perhaps his little brother did not want to be found.

When Tricia introduced me to Vanessa, the older woman
snorted. "It's a waste of time and money. For all we know,
Justin is dead. He must be, since we haven't heard from
him in all these years"

In a pacifying tone, Tricia responded. "Then that's what
we'll find out, Vanessa. You know that's what father would
want"

The older woman's eyes flashed fire. "I know no such thing. All I'm saying is that it's throwing good money after
bad. Justin was always irresponsible, always drunk. Heaven
only knows how much Father spent on bailing him out of
trouble" Her face a mask of anger, she turned to me, her
tone acerbic with accusation. "Did my sister tell you our father spent thousands of dollars buying Justin out of first
one escapade and then another? If it wasn't drink of drugs,
it was buying off angry fathers or paying DUI tickets"

Frank stepped forward. "That's enough, Vanessa. We keep
our dirty laundry in the family, not out where some-" He
hesitated, then continued. "Where others can see"

"But, Frank, you said yourself-"

Smoothly the older man cut her off. A sly look filled his
eyes. "We say a lot of things when we're together as family,
but you know, now that I think about it, perhaps Tricia has
the right idea after all"

His words clearly surprised Vanessa. She started to protest,
but he continued. "This way, we'll find out one way or another about Justin. If something has happened to him, then
we'll legally be able to settle George's estate without any
problems"

My ears perked up, and a dozen questions filled my head
when he called his father by his given name.

Vanessa hesitated. "But what if he's alive?" She shot me
a furtive glance.

"Then he's alive, and we can still get on with the business of settling the estate. If he doesn't want to go into the
business with us, we'll buy him out. Then he can go back to
whatever it is he's been doing for the last fifteen years"

The two siblings stared at each other for several moments.
I've heard it said that some siblings can communicate just through eye contact. I don't know if that's true or not, for I
had none. If it is, then I saw an understanding take place
between Vanessa and Frank, who then turned to me. "How
soon can you get started, Mr. Boudreaux?"

I had an uncomfortable feeling that this case might turn
out a great deal differently than any of us expected. "Right
away." I looked from one to the other and pulled out my
notepad. "First I need a photo and some information about
your brother."

 

or the next thirty minutes, I picked their brains. I learned
Justin's likes, dislikes, old friends, interests, and skills. Perhaps it would be better to say, lack of skills.

BOOK: An Unmarked Grave
9.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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