Whisper In The Dark (The McKinnon Legends-- The American Men Book One) (9 page)

“The money would allow me to start over. If George wanted to stay on the ranch, he would be taken care of properly. I believe Robert on that count.”

“And you should. Regardless of what you may think of him, he is a good and decent man.”

“May I counter?”

“Well, yes of course. As with any legal agreement it is your option to counter, but why would you? It is more than fair.” He did not understand why she would not take the money and run.

“May I borrow your pen?” she asked holding out her hand.

The look on her face spoke volumes to Lyles. She, just like Thaddeus, was a gambler.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Robert said softly while sitting behind his burled desk in his company's office suites in a downtown Dallas highrise. As he read the counter offer on letterhead from Lyles, Petty, Coker, and Yarbrough, he leaned back in his executive chair and propped his feet on the corner of his desk.

She had requested thirty days in which to pay the balance and asked another instrument be drafted. Lyles had taken the liberty to do just that. The letter was accompanied by the terms of the new agreement.

Her counter should have surprised him. Yet, it didn’t, even with all she stood to lose. She was taking a huge gamble, but so was he if he accepted her terms. Robert read through the documents. Then he looked at the hand written note attached, laughing at the salutation.

He had to hand it to her; she had brass. Fair market value for the Golden Circle was somewhere in the neighborhood of eight or nine million dollars. If he chose to develop the land, he could make double, easily, even triple given the housing boom of the current market place. She stood to loose a lot if the legend proved to be true and they did find Thaddeus’s fortune. In today’s dollars eight million would be a drop in the bucket to the fortune Thaddeus possessed at the time of his death. Quickly doing the math he whistled through his teeth. If Thaddeus kept his currency in the form of gold, it could easily translate into thirty to forty million dollars. No wonder Dallas was after the ranch.

She stood to lose even more if the treasure did not exist. She would walk away with nothing.

Could he let her walk away empty handed? Probably not. He did not bail her out just to leave her stranded. He would work something out, but in the meantime he would take pleasure in the mystery and enjoy finding the truth behind the Brandenburg cache. If there was truth to be found, they would find it together. Robert scrawled his name on the bottom.

As far as he was concerned he would let the hunt begin.

Abandoned Plant

Just outside of Ft. Worth, Texas

“What the hell were you doing going to the ranch like that? You idiot!” Santiago Booth, Tony as his friends called him, slapped his companion on the back of his head. Beer sloshed down Razor’s chin as the blow caught him in motion to his mouth.

“They almost caught you snooping around. It is not like you can blend into a crowd.”

“Yeah, so?” Razor shrugged, shaking the beer foam off his hand uncaring where it landed. “They didn’t. That is the important thing. By the way, touch me again like that and I’ll kill you.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at the threat.

Popping the tab on a fresh beer and flopping down on the sofa, Razor was totally oblivious to just how close he was standing next to death. Sighing, he looked at the sofa that was his only option out of the three pieces of furniture in the cavernous room. The lighting consisted of a single halogen spotlight hanging over the old metal desk. The effect, he thought, was one of a cheap theater production, and one could well visualize an audience seated just beyond the ring of light.

“Do not threaten me, Razor, and no, the most important thing is not that you did not get caught. The most important thing is for you to follow orders. Anything else will get you killed or identified. Which, by the way, I do not have to tell you would make you as good as dead. Did you hear me say anything about going near the girl?”

“How was I supposed to know Robert was already in play? I did not think he would react that fast.”

Tony sighed dramatically as if he were the leading actor in this mini melodrama.

“Razor, my friend, how many times must we go over the fact that we must stick to that which we do best. Your strong suit is not thinking. Your strong suit is beating things up. Two very different talents, would you not agree?” Tony had a way about him that defused and disarmed, a fact which had gained him access to places a man like Razor could never venture.

Razor grinned widely. He and Tony went way back to the first Gulf War. After doing time together in Leavenworth, they hooked up on the outside. What began as petty theft and larceny grew over the years to high stakes scams and blackmail. No one ever would have pegged them as friends, and they were not friends, not technically, more like two halves to the same whole. It was a love-hate relationship which neither one could afford to walk away from no matter how volatile it might get.

“You need me, Tony,” Razor slammed back the beer confident in his words.

“I never said I didn’t need you, Razor. You have your attributes. As do I. That is why we work well together.”

“All right, I acknowledge you have always been the brains of this operation,” Razor acquiesced.

“And as long as you continue to acknowledge and do as I tell you, we will both stay alive and rich.”

“Yeah, rich and enjoying the high life. Would you just look at these new digs you found for us?” he said throwing an arm wide accentuating his sarcasm. “This place must have cost a small fortune. What? Maybe two thousand dollars? You are such a high roller, Tony. I say we go for Kyle’s sister and be done with this. I’m ready for the payoff.”

“You must show patience, my friend.” Tony knew Razor’s unilateral decision to go to the ranch spelled future disaster. More and more Razor was venturing off on his own, something he could not allow to continue. After thirteen years it was probably time to start looking for a new gig.

Razor interrupted his thoughts. “By the way, remind me to stay clear of your decorator. Just a little too minimalist for my taste,” Razor said referring to the damp, musty hull they were currently calling home.

Tony knew Razor, in spite of his tough appearance, was more the soft feather bed kind than what he had chosen for them for this operation.

“No worries on that count my friend. My decorator is tied up at the moment and no longer taking new clients, I’m afraid.”

Razor stared at Tony wondering how much truth was in that statement. He had a knack of telling the horrible truth about himself in such a way that no one ever believed it was anything except a joke. Even having known him as long as he had he really had no idea just how darkly motivated Tony might actually be.

“Now, Lawrence, as to going after Katherine, you must be patient. Stay away from her,” Tony warned.

“You know, Tony, sometimes it gets real old being bossed around like I’m some sort of idiot. I have plans, you know. I am capable of thinking for myself.”

Tony drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment before speaking.

“Razor, do you still like your toys?” he asked softly.

Razor did not have to wonder where this was heading. “Yeah, you know I do.”

“And how long do you think you would last if you had to go get them and dispose of the bodies all by yourself?”

“Uh, well I’d manage. I’ve done it before.” He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa.

“Uh, yes,” Tony paused to add dramatic effect slowly nodding his head. “The one in Phoenix.”

Razor knew what was coming next.

Tony continued. “Let me see if I remember that one correctly. Please, feel free to stop me if I get something out of sequence. I believe if memory serves me correctly, you dumped her body three miles outside of town. She was found less then two hours later. You left DNA behind, and if that were not bad enough, you also left a witness to point the finger. I had to go back and mop up your mess. You know how I hate loose ends and unnecessary loss of life. Your witness was a grandmother, for Christ’s sake.”

“Hey, that was not my fault. And I have learned my lesson.”

“Then tell me, Razor. Tell me what are your plans for the one you have in your playroom now? When you are done, can you dispose of her body in a way no one will ever suspect you?” Tony sat behind the desk like an Italian godfather, self-assured, so in control.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He shifted again knowing he had never given a single thought to what to do with her body once he was done.

“Really?” Tony’s gaze was hard revealing a small glimpse of the evil within.

“Oh, all right. I admit you are better at that sort of thing than me. Happy now?”

Razor watched in amazement as Tony’s face completely transformed to the one he showed the world, handsome and carefree.

“Yes, I am. Thank you for asking. However, if you ever forget that small fact, I will hand you your other ear wrapped up in a box topped off with a nice, tidy pink bow.”

Razor’s hand went on reflex to his remaining ear. He still hurt from that night they beat Kyle. After Tony discovered Kyle was dead, he hit him with a beer bottle knocking him out cold. He woke up with his ear severed. It was his punishment for not listening. Tony had given an order not to touch Kyle. He had failed.

“That’s just mean, man. I forgive you for your punishment for what I did to Kyle, but I did not kill him. He was alive when I left. You even said so yourself that you saw him drive away. His death was not my fault. Maybe the Doc overdid it. Why not go cut something off him?” he said flinging the half empty beer can across the room where it clattered in the darkness.

“Razor, have you seen Doc lately?”

Razor thought a minute. Now that he gave it attention, he had not seen the doctor in a while.

He stared at the man across from him. For the first time their relationship gave him pause.

“You know something, Tony? You are one scary son-of-a- bitch.”

Tony’s smile chilled Razor to the core.

“You, my friend, have no idea.”

Midnight came and went as Kate pored over the references on the Internet and any books she could find in the personal library. From Robert’s vantage point he could see the lights still on over at the Golden Circle. His house was on a slightly higher elevation, and with the help of very high-powered binoculars he could see the lights burning tonight just as they had the previous seven. He almost felt like a voyeur, almost. He wasn’t worried about her safety. Chase and Reece were on the job. He was just impatient.

He was waiting on her to make the first move. It had been a week since he signed the papers, and he had not heard a single word from her. Yet, every night he knew she toiled well into the wee hours. George, becoming his co-conspirator, had divulged what she was doing, and he found it fascinating what she was up to.

She was poring over anything and everything she could get her hands on dealing with secret societies down through the ages. The Illuminati, Freemasons, Rosicrucian sect, the Knights Templar, and Knights of the Golden Circle or KGC as they were called by people in the treasure hunting world, just to name a few. He had never heard of the KGC, but was surprised to see how close the connection was to his family and hers. In the last seven days, the name of the ranch had taken on a whole different meaning for him and he suspected for her as well.

Robert was doing a bit of research himself. Topographical maps, abstracts of the land, surveys from the army core of engineering, as well as satellite photos were sprawled across his study. He was expecting a call any minute from one of the world’s leading geologists. He had tracked him down in the oil fields of Kuwait. Through the magic of modern technology and worldwide delivery services, Robert managed to get his geologist friend the same information he was poring over. It was looking promising.

If his hunch was correct there might be oil on the property. He had always thought it was a possibility. Even he and Kyle had talked about it. If not oil, then a wind farm was an option with its clean, renewable resource, and water was always a valuable commodity to possess. Given the current drought Texas and other parts of the South were currently enduring, that water could well be worth more than just beer and cigarette money. The wind and oil might possibly cover the nine million the property was worth, but the water alone would probably settle the debt. Kate was the one to specify that whatever treasure was discovered he would accept. She never specified that the treasure had to necessarily be gold. As “Captain” it was still his right to claim his booty from this quest. Wind, oil, lignite, water, gold, it did not matter to him. How he gained was not as important as the fact they both gained in the process.

On a less practical note, he received a fax from another friend of his who did a bit of dabbling in treasure hunting. Lost ships and salvage were Walter Green’s forte, but he had been helpful. The cipher and signs he sent over could prove beneficial. Growing up Robert had seen the strange markings on the trees and rock formations across the properties, and the markings were now making sense.

The Treasure Trees, as they were called, were land markers. Their design was for those who buried or hid their loot. They were treasure maps carved into the living land so the person who placed the valuables would be able to return later and retrieve them. Both trees and boulders dotted the twelve thousand acres encompassing the two tracks of land that had been continuously owned by their families for generations.