Chapter 92
Chapter 92
I t was 4:00 a.m. and I was way past tired, but Bones had a bee in his bonnet. So Camp drove while Bones sat quietly in the back. En route to the hotel, he rerouted us. To Arlington National. Even though it was normally closed this time of morning, Stackhouse led the way and opened it for us. We unloaded and climbed the small hill while Gunner sniffed the surroundings. He didn’t like it now any more than he did the first time.
The air was cold. Night quiet. Grass damp. Moonlight on marble. We stood staring at the stone while Bones studied the ground. Brow furrowed. Slightly comical look on his face. Trying to come to grips with the surreal thought of his casket sitting empty six feet below. “What’d you put in there?”
“Mementos. Stuff to remember you by.”
“Anything valuable? Maybe we should dig it up.”
“You sure you want the attention?”
Camp spoke next. He dug in his pocket and extended a large silver key to me. “Maynard’s. Lifted it off Ladstrom. Figured he wouldn’t need it where he’s going.”
I hefted it. Years in someone’s or several someones’ pockets had worn it smooth. I tried to read the names of who had given it to whom, but several letters were worn and it was difficult to read under the moonlight. “You figure out who gave it to Maynard?”
“Guy named Beetle Baswell.”
The name meant nothing to us but evidently meant something to Bones, who chuckled and shook his head. “What a tangled web we weave...”
I waited.
Bones looked at each of us. “Beetle Baswell was one of Frank’s many aliases. He liked first and last names that started with the same letter. Something about the alliteration.” A pause. “Richie Rockwell and Cory Coxbury were two more. There were many others.”
It felt weird to be talking with Bones while staring at his grave. Felt like we were cheating something. “You mean to tell me that your brother Frank gave Maynard his membership to the Gilded Kilt?”
Bones spoke without looking at me. “Makes sense. Frank prized information above all else. He knew this was where to get it. He also knew he had Maynard on a string so he could leverage whatever video evidence he had to keep Maynard on a short leash. Which he did. For over twenty years.”
We stood quietly a minute while the enormity of what we were staring at stared back at us. Bones was quiet. Finally, he looked at me. “We have kept David Bishop a secret for a long time. And his secret is safe with us. Likewise, it would be best if we could keep Ezekiel Walker dead until such time as we want to let our enemies know he is not.”
I understood. It made good sense.
Bones again. “When I show you two what I’m about to show you, you will understand that it will be best for us and bad for our enemies if they all think I’m still in that box.”
We nodded.
“If I’m dead, I can operate more freely in the shadows. Which will help when you two are kicking down doors.” Bones had taken to Camp. A burgeoning relationship I enjoyed watching. He turned to face him. “I’ve been out of the loop awhile, but are you about to be late for your own wedding?”
Camp nodded. “T-minus thirteen hours and counting.”
Bones turned, put his back to his grave, and walked away. “Then we should probably hurry.”