Chapter 13
The door between the house and the bar was open when both brothers walked into the living room the next morning. Gunner was standing at the front windows overlooking the highway when he heard them coming up behind him.
“Gut feeling says they’re just minutes out,” he muttered.
“So, you have become psychic overnight?” Dylan asked.
He pointed up. “A chopper has been circling. Ash said there would be a chopper. I am not psychic, but I am observant.”
Asher walked up between them. “It’s go time, brothers.”
“What will they do?” Dylan asked.
“Likely take photos of the site as it is, then video the removal. It will be verification that it wasn’t recently buried. I doubt they’ll be able to pull Brenda’s fingerprints off the box, but I could be wrong.”
“They didn’t book her into jail. How would they have her prints?” Dylan asked.
“Autopsy,” Asher said, then just as Gunner predicted, they saw three black SUVs coming up Highway 86 from the east. “There they come.”
As they were pulling off the highway, the chopper was circling.
Asher rolled his eyes. “Coming in at daybreak to allay suspicion, in a little town that only experiences LIFESTAR choppers. Everybody will be on their phones, or standing on their porches, waiting to hear who’s hurt or dying before we even get to the basement.”
The brothers made a quick pivot and headed into the house to greet their guests. They opened the back door as the agents were coming up the steps. As predicted, one was carrying a video camera and a tripod, and there were two carrying what looked like forensic cases.
Asher pointed up. “Unless you want all 2,500 residents of Crossroads in our front parking lot banging on the door to see who’s hurt, or who else just got shot here, you might want to tell them to do their backup farther away and higher up.”
One of the agents looked a little wild-eyed and grabbed a radio, while the rest filed in. As soon as the last one entered the house, Dylan locked the door, and Asher and Gunner promptly flashed their badges.
“Asher Kingston. Special investigator for the Texas state attorney general’s office. Gunner Kingston, Homicide detective with the Dallas Police Department. Dylan Kingston, general contractor out of Austin. Gentlemen, may we see some identification?”
Twelve agents blinked in unison, then promptly displayed their badges.
“Thank you,” Asher said. “Can’t be too careful these days. The shit we found in our basement is what nearly got our dad killed. Who’s in charge?”
A sandy-haired man with a scar across his forehead stepped forward. “That would be me, Special Agent Alex Worth.”
“Gunner, lead them down,” Asher said. “My brother and I will follow.”
“Is there room enough?” Alex asked.
“The basement is the same size as the footprint of the house. We used to play down there when we were kids. Didn’t know we were harboring a secret.”
Gunner unlocked the door and turned on the light as he went down, with the agents following, one by one. Asher was the last.
The agents were eyeing the jumble of boxes strung out along the walls and on the shelves, waiting to be led to the find.
The brothers moved through the crowd to the far end of the basement, pulled the drop cloth away, and moved the boxes they’d put up to hide the hole and what was in it.
“We used a metal detector to find it. Dylan was our expert there. As you can see, there was less than a foot of dirt covering it, and as soon as he realized it was what we’d been looking for, we stopped digging.
Except for the blade of my shovel, no one has touched it since Brenda put it there.
And since it’s apparent from your clothing that none of you planned to do any excavating, we will dig for you, with your directions.
Do you plan to video, or are we doing stills? ” Asher asked.
Agent Worthy grinned. So far, they had been very politely chided three times. The chopper. The delay in identifying themselves. And now improper dress. In any other circumstances, he and this dude would be friends.
“Video, and we appreciate your assistance,” he said, then eyed the agent behind the camera.
“Roll it, Conrad,” then for the record, identified himself, the names of the agents on site, and all three of the Kingstons.
“Asher, would you please repeat for the camera, how you located it here. We already have your statement regarding the reason you began the search. It was during the investigation of your father’s shooting that you discovered an omission from the federal investigation. Now, please proceed.”
At that point, Asher repeated it for the camera, then at Worthy’s direction, he and Gunner got back down on their knees at the site, and dug the rest of the dirt away from the sides until the dirt had been completely removed from around the box and the handles were revealed.
They were about to lift it out together when Dylan stopped them.
“Let me, brothers.”
Asher and Gunner stood up and stepped back, watching as Dylan leaned over, flexing the strong muscles across his back and shoulders as he grabbed the box by the handles, and with one last yank to loosen it from the bottom, lifted it up and out like he was picking up a sack of groceries.
“Where do you want it?” he asked.
Special Agent Worthy eyed the man’s massive chest and pointed. “Just there away from the hole, will be fine. Thank you.”
Dylan’s head was down. His eyes were glazed with tears as he stepped back against the wall, but his brothers knew why. Their mother had been the last person to touch it, and for that moment, when he gripped the handles, he’d been holding her hands.
Worthy was speaking again. “For the camera, it is obvious this lock has not been disturbed. It still has the seal from the armored car company intact. We are going to break the seal now and view the contents before we remove the strongbox from the property. We have statements from the armored car company at that time of the robbery, as to what is supposed to be inside.”
Gunner took a bolt cutter from the wall above the workbench and handed it to them. When the lock was cut, it snapped and banged against the metal like a gunshot.
Worthy removed the broken lock and bagged it as evidence, but when he tried to lift the lid, it was stuck. Dylan handed him a small hammer.
“A little tap around the edges should do it… It’s probably dirt wedged in the crack.” And he was right.
A few quick taps and the lid came up in Worthy’s hands. Bundles and bundles of one-hundred-dollar bills were visible beneath an enormous stack of bearer bonds.
“This is it,” Worthy said. “A full accounting of the amount will be made as it’s logged into evidence, but at the time it was stolen, it was reported that the bearer bonds alone were in excess of a million dollars.”
“Damn sure not worth what it cost,” Asher said.
Worthy closed the lid, then replaced the lock they’d cut off with another one that would need a number code to remove, and ended the video.
They rehung the borrowed tools, shook hands with all three brothers, and then followed them up and out, carrying the box now covered with the drop cloth, and quickly loaded it into one of the armored SUVs, and then the remaining agents loaded up as well.
The chopper was suddenly visible again, as Worthy turned to say his goodbyes.
“The director will be in touch. I am to thank you men profusely on behalf of the department, for closing this cold case. Our sympathies to your family. I hope you soon have the perps you’re after behind bars.”
And then they were gone, driving out in the same order in which they’d arrived, and heading back east on 86 with the chopper flying above them.
The money was gone, but the brothers still had work to do. They filed back down the stairs in silence, filled up the hole they’d dug, replaced the bricks they’d removed, and then stared at each other.
“That damn hole felt like a grave,” Dylan said.
“But it wasn’t, and now it’s as if the money was never there. We will come down here again many times, but without the ghost of her with us,” Asher said, and wrapped his arms around his brothers. “It’s done, and we did good.”
“Nora needs to be in on this hug,” Gunner said. “We couldn’t have done this without her. It’s gonna be good having two sisters-in-law. Takes the heat off of me.”
Asher laughed. “Nope. It’s going to be worse. Your two sisters will be constantly trying to hook you up. Happy women are matchmakers. Your journey has just begun.”
“True that,” Dylan said. “But don’t fight it, man. Finding the lady who loves you as is and always has your back will be your treasure.”
“Whatever,” Gunner said. “But right now, I don’t know whether I’m hungrier or sleepier.”
“Figure it out, because I don’t serve breakfast in bed,” Asher said.
After the last twenty-four hours, the ensuing laughter felt good.
“I’ll make some pancakes,” Asher said, “if you’ll call Dad to say hello from all of us, and tell him we’re fine, and keeping Dylan here for a little longer.”
“I can do that,” Gunner said, and took off down the hall to make the call and shower and change before they began the day.
It was during the pancake breakfast when Asher brought up the idea of how to bait the Brandts into making a second try. After explaining it in detail, they both agreed.
“So, if you can pull this off, then after it airs, we will basically have to hole up in the house, giving off the perception that we’re gone, and lie in wait for them to make a move,” Gunner said.
“That’s a lot of ifs and maybes,” Dylan said.
“That’s police work,” Asher said. “All I want is to watch that back door opening, and when they get inside the house, slam the door behind them and turn on the lights. I want them to see our faces. I want them to know who we are. I want them to be sorry for the rest of their lives that they ever laid a hand on Jacob Kingston.”
“Then set it in motion,” Gunner said. “We’ll always have your back.”