Hunter's Moon Page 16

“Yeah, I am. You got those sneakers I wanted?”

  “Sure do.”

  Leo looked at the top of the line Nike sneakers with Michael Jordan’s name on the side, and he smiled. “Looks like we got a deal. Hey, that’s my friend, Chad. He was my assistant at the library. I think he read every book on history, local to national, we had. Needs a lift to Cumberland. I can vouch for him. Is that okay?”

  Big Tony looked hard at him. “I don’t like surprises. You know that.” He paused. “But if he’s a friend of yours, that tells me a lot. So yeah, he can have a lift.”

  “Thanks, you won’t regret this,” said Leo.

  Big Tony hoped he wouldn’t. “Get in. I have that burner phone you need for business, and it’s got lots of minutes.” Don’t lose it. And no shop talk when that guy’s with us, understand?”

  “Gotcha.” Leo whistled to Chad and waved his hand for him to come. They got in the four-door sedan, and Big Tony drove to the main entrance and noticed a sizeable historical marker which read, ‘On this site sat Fort Nichols, one link in a chain of frontier forts George Washington ordered built for defense during the French and Indian War.’ Those forts were all over this area, thought Big Tony. They pulled out onto Maryland Route 220 and left Western Maryland Correctional Institute in their rearview mirror. Ten minutes later, they dropped Chad off at a rundown house on Independence Street and drove to another house in the Mapleside neighborhood and parked on the street.

  “This is the place I was telling you about. You know what I need you to do. Just do what I want, and don’t screw it up, capiche?”

  “Yeah, I understand. You can count on me.”

  “No surprises, remember?”

  “Yeah, no surprises.”

  Leo got out of the car and waved goodbye as he walked up the steps to the house. He knocked, and an old woman opened the door a little. She saw Big Tony, smiled and let Leo in. As she closed the door, Big Tony saw her wink. Lois would take care of him. She knew what to do, and this one needed watching. Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. This one had asked too many questions about Tom Kenney and Braddock’s gold. The librarian at the prison had seen enough information to put him on the radar screen. His boss, the Voice, wanted the treasure for himself, and nothing better come between it and him. It was not healthy to disappoint the Voice. Big Tony knew that, but others did not. Some people learned the hard way.

  Sometime later

  It had been a good morning until he received the phone call. The number indicated it was Big Tony, but why would he be calling at this time? “Boss,” he said. “I have some news. Leo,, the snitch, is dead.”

  The Voice thought it might come to this, but what came next was a surprise. Big Tony said, “The Cumberland Police found him floating face down in the Potomac River near Candoc, and he had a knife in his back. None of us had anything to do with it.”

  The Voice pondered this development. Someone had killed Leo before they had found it necessary, but who and why? Big Tony went on, “Now the bad news, there was no mention of finding his cell phone, and he was shoeless.”

  The Voice did not like the sound of this, and it grew even worse. Big Tony said, “The GPS I planted in his shoes is still active, and it’s moving. No boss, it’s not floating down the river. It’s moving through the streets of LaVale on old Route 40 now. I’ll intercept it in the Narrows near Kline’s Restaurant. We should find out what’s up then.”

  ***

  Big Tony watched as the car went by Kline’s Restaurant, located in the Narrows. Chad, ‘Leo’s friend,’ was driving, and the GPS moved with the vehicle. Chad had to be wearing Leo’s special shoes. Big Tony pulled out behind the car, but a minivan slipped between them, and it was just as well. Big Tony needed some cover for his developing plan. The vehicles stopped at a red light, and Big Tony called the cell phone he had given Leo. He watched as Chad jumped in the car. The phone had an extreme vibrate mode, and it had Chad’s attention and Big Tony’s too. He now knew what happened to Leo, and he didn’t like where this could be leading. He called the boss and informed him of the situation. The Voice told him to keep him updated. Big Tony would know what to do.

  Chapter 23

  Yes, it was an interesting day. He’d been running one of the local routes, and it gave him time to touch base with a lot of his customers. All but one seemed pleased with the Knobley Mountain Bottled Water and service. That one had always been difficult and wanted to haggle over price. They finally agreed, if he ordered larger quantities less often, Tom could give him a better deal. Both went away happy with the new arrangement.

  On the way out of Cumberland, coming home in the afternoon, Tom stopped at several establishments on WV Route 28. Linda’s Old Furnace Restaurant and the market next door would be the last two. The latter needed their usual amount. He stood by his truck parked along the side of the building and noted two men looking at something just over the guard rail near the WV Historical Marker for Fort Sellers. He loaded his industrial grade hand truck, and the gray-haired men walked toward him. Tom asked, “What did you guys find over there? Dead possum?”

  They smiled and said, “No dead animals. We’re geocaching.”

  “Geo-what?” asked Tom.

  “A geocache. It’s kind of like a treasure hunt. Someone places a cache for other people to find. You use GPS. There’re several different websites on the internet that tell you where and how. It’s fun and gets us out of the house. Our wives were driving us crazy, and it sure beats playin’ cards and drinkin’.”

  “Sounds interesting. I’ll have to try it when I get time, whenever that is.”

  “Yeah, I remember what having a job was like, but I tell you this, retirement is what you make it. I’ve been so busy I don’t know when I ever had time for work. Some people think you sit around all day with nuthin’ to do, but if you want to catch me, you better make an appointment.”

  “Gotcha. Thanks for the info on geocaching. I think I’d like to try it someday when I get the chance.”

  “You’ll enjoy it. See ya. Have a blessed day.”

  “You, too.”

  The men got into a car and left. Tom loaded up the order for the restaurant and took it inside. He put it in the backroom and stopped at the counter near the cash register. Tom gave the cashier the bill and then sat down to a coffee and apple pie waiting for him. He took a bite of it and finished the cup of coffee off in one gulp.

  The waitress named Debbie shook her head. “Well, I see you still have that OCD thingy,” she said.

  “Yup. You know me too well. OCD, Obsessive Coffee Disease, and you know the only cure for that, right?

  She made a face and nodded her head. “Yes, Tom. The only cure is what else? More coffee.” She poured him another cup.

  “Right as rain, Doctor Debbie. You got it.”

  She went on to some other customers at the bar counter. Tom recognized one man, Mr. Whitacre, and Tom spoke to him. “Mr. Whitacre, I haven’t seen you in a while. What brings you here?”

  “Food. What do you think? Wife’s on a health kick again, and it’s like to killing me. Doc says I’m too heavy, my sugars and blood pressures up, so she cut my portions to nothing. I’ll be so healthy, but she’s starving me to death in the process.”

  They made small talk for a while as Tom finished his snack. He left a five-dollar bill sticking out from under the coffee cup, said goodbye to Mr. Whitacre, who joyfully chowed down on a hot beef sandwich covered with mashed potatoes and brown gravy and departed. At the truck, he placed the hand cart in its spot and secured it. He walked around the truck, climbed up to the cab and opened the door.

  “Get in,” growled a man’s voice. “And keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.

  Tom stared into the barrel of a Smith and Wesson 9 mm pistol. He did as he was told.

  “Now,” the man said, “ease the truck outta here and head down Old Furnace Road.”

  Tom pulled the truck around and drove across the parking lot. He
stopped, looked both ways, and turned left onto the road. A short distance later, he passed the old iron furnace that gave the area and road its name. “What do you want and who are you?” Tom asked.

  The man sniffed through his nose. “The name’s not important, and I think you know what I want.”

  Tom glanced at the man and the gun. He was about thirty and looked somewhat familiar, but Tom kept this to himself. He scratched the scabs on his arms. Must be a meth head, thought Tom. This isn’t going to end well. Tom noted the expensive sneakers he was wearing. “Nice shoes,” he said.

  The young man sneered, “Got ‘em from a friend,” and then he laughed sarcastically.

  They traveled another mile or so down the winding road, passing a small family cemetery and a no-name bar, and then the young man jumped. With his left hand, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He said, “Damn things been going off all day.” He pushed the off switch. “Won’t have to worry with that anymore today.” He slipped it back in his pocket.

  Tom continued to drive over the twisting country road and thought about what he could do. He could throw the truck into a spin and flip it, but neither he nor his passenger were wearing a seat belt. They would probably both be tossed out and run over by the truck if Tom did not get shot when he swerved the truck. Not a good idea. Gotta be something else, so he drove on.

  “Turn left here,” the young man said.

  Just as I expected. We’re heading for the old farm, and he thinks I know where the gold is. This ain’tgonna be pretty, thought Tom.

  They went through the sleepy little town of Patterson Creek. “Turn right after the white house,” the young man said.

  Tom looked at him. “We’re going to the farm, aren’t we?”

  The young man smiled sarcastically. “You’re a smart guy, and you know what I want, don’t you?”

  Tom nodded. There had to be a plan to save him, but what was it? A feeling of gloom came over Tom, and he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. God help me; he silently prayed.

  Tom turned on the side road that led down past an odorous barn to the creek. They went over the low water bridge. How Tom wished he could be fishing today instead of in the truck with this crazy man. They rode to the sharp left-hand turn and began the sharp ascent to the top of the north end of Patterson Creek Ridge. One mile later, they came to the country lane that led to the old farmhouse where Tom had been shot, and two other men had died. Tom pulled in and stopped at the gate. The young man looked at Tom and waved the gun around. “I know you have a key. Get out and open the gate.”

  “I……” Tom started to say he did not have a key but felt it best not to argue with the spacey man. He got out and went to the gate. Much to his surprise, he found it had been very cleverly dummy locked. He couldn’t believe his luck. Tom turned his back to the truck and concealed his work. He swung the gate open, walked back to the truck, and climbed in.

  “See how easy that was. Do the same for the rest of what I want, and it’ll be a good day.”

  Maybe for you, but not for me. Tom still could not see how he would get out of this with his skin intact. God help me.

  As they drove up the lane, Tom began to remember coming here the day he was shot. He saw the faces of the two men who were shot, and then he thought he heard the sound of a Huey helicopter. They neared the old farmhouse with crime scene tape still around it. “Stop the truck and get out,” ordered the man who had scratched his arms bloody. “Now, go over there.”

  Tom did as he was told.

  “Now, I haven’t got all day. Where’s the gold? I know it’s here and you know where. Where is it?”

  The air seemed thick and hot. The sky seemed to spin, and Tom nearly fell. He looked at the man and said, “I don’t know.”

  The man cursed and pointed the gun at Tom. “Tell me where it is, or I’ll shot you now and shot you again and again till you tell me. I know how to make a man feel pain and wish he was dead.”

  The faces of men he saw die in the Ia Drang Valley in Vietnam flashed in front of him. He looked at the man waving the gun. “I don’t know.”

  The young man snarled, pointed the gun at Tom, and fired. The bullet whizzed by Tom’s head, and he dropped to the ground. The man angrily charged him and held the gun to his head. “Changed my mind. I’m not gonna tell you again. I’m gonna count to three, and if I don’t hear what I wanna hear, I gonna put a round in your head.”

  “One.”

  “I can’t remember.”

  “Two.”

  “I don’t know!”

  “THREE!”

  A shot rang out, and the young man fell on the ground next to Tom. He looked at the man. There was a blood spot on his head where a bullet had entered. His face turned into Chris Benally’s, and it spoke, “Tell my dad, I died in battle.” The eyes closed, and Tom closed his own eyes. “No,” he said over and over. “No,” and he began to cry.

  A little time passed. Tom was able to compose himself, and he looked around. The dead man was still dead, and two men were approaching him. They carried M16s with sniper scopes and silencers. Both were dressed in camouflage fatigues and had white sacks on their heads with eye holes cut out like the two men who tried to kill him before. They walked up to Tom. He asked, “Do you intend to kill me now?”

  The men looked at each other, and one spoke, but the voice sounded like one coming from a mechanical speaking aid someone with throat cancer would use. “Mr. Kenney, sorry you do not understand. This man was going to kill you, and we saved your life. As I told you, I am your Benefactor. No harm will come to you or your family while you are under my protection. I want the treasure that is in your head, nothing more.”

  “Whatever you say. Whatever you say.” Tom stood up, but his legs would not hold him. He twisted and passed out on the ground.

  The second man looked down at Tom. He gently nudged him with his foot. Tom was out like a light. The man shook his covered head. “Looks like his PTSD has kicked in again. Shame, he’s a man I respect.”

  “Yes. Load him in the truck and take him down where the road parallels the railroad tracks. Leave the truck and him there. We will call 911 when we are safely away and as usual, leave nothing for the cops to go on how he got there. We will clean up the mess here, and then I will follow you to the drop off point.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I told you Chap and Leo needed watching. You need to see those books on Braddock’s gold need to be removed from the prison library. I hope they haven’t created more problems, but who knows.

  “Yes, I’ll see the message goes to the warden tomorrow morning. We can hope these two were the only curious ones. If there are more, they can be dealt with too, if necessary.”

  Big Tony nodded his bag-covered head.” Boss, do you think he’ll ever remember?”

  “He will. Everything comes to he who waits. I can feel it. He knows where the treasure is, and he will tell me.”

  “You’ve never been wrong before, boss. You’ve never been wrong before.”

  ***

  The next day

  Oh, my head hurts. Tom looked around. Where am I? No wonder it looked familiar. He was in the VA Hospital in Cumberland, again. How did I get here? He didn’t know. He turned his head to the side and saw Joann seated on the other side of the room away from him. At times like these, he could be aggressive when he awoke. “Jo?” he said. “How long have I been out?”

  She approached him carefully to study his demeanor. “They brought you in yesterday. Someone saw your truck down on Dan’s Run Road and gave 911 a call. The cops found you slumped on your seat.”

  “I don’t know how I got there.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “I got a splitting headache, but other than that, I think I’m okay. What did the doctors say?”

  “PTSD again. They said once you awoke, they would observe you for a while, and if all went well, you could be released.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Th
e cops have a question for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “They found a drop of fresh blood on the seat, and it wasn’t yours. They’re going to send it off and see if it matches anything in their database. Any idea who’s it is or how it got there?”

  “No, I don’t, but I have this feeling it has something to do with Braddock’s gold again.”

  She nodded her head and said, “I think so too, and so do the cops.”

  Tom was silent.

  She asked, “What are you thinking?”

  He looked at her. “Paul was right.”

  “Are you okay, honey?”

  “Yes, the apostle Paul told Timothy ‘the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.’ Did he ever get it right on that one.”

  Joann nodded and pulled herself close to him. “Somehow honey, we’ll get through this. If God is for us, who can be against us?”

  Tom said, “It’ll work out. Somehow, it’ll all work out.”

  Chapter 24

  Two months later

  What a week it had been. This week started out like so many Tom had recently. It was like having three Mondays in a row. Everything seemed to happen in threes. On Monday, one of the trucks blew a tire at 55 mph, and the driver, Jared, had barely been able to keep the vehicle under control in the emergency stop. It took all day to get the tire truck out for service, so his route started out the week a day behind. On Tuesday, Andy’s truck died in downtown Cumberland traffic and what a mess that had been. Fortunately, he wasn’t given a ticket, but the truck had to be towed in and worked on. A faulty crankshaft positioning sensor proved the problem. All in all, Tom figured this cost the company at least a thousand bucks in lost time, towing fees, mechanic shop fees, equipment downtime, and wages. Today, in the late afternoon, when the man who called himself his Benefactor phoned, Tom almost welcomed the change.

  As usual, Tom’s phone had shown 000-000-0000 as the calling number. He left the warehouse to take the call at the employee’s picnic table outside.