Chapter 38
Austin
With CIA credentials, and key and death certificates in a backpack, we entered the first bank on the list. The bank’s logo included both the sun and moon.
“They’ve changed their name, but their earlier advertising promised twenty-four-seven banking services,” Jack said.
They had ATMs and online banking like every other bank, so it wasn’t the boast it was when they’d named the bank.
“I’d like to speak with the branch manager, please,” I said to the woman who greeted us.
“What’s this in reference to? Maybe I could help you.”
“You can’t.” I flashed my badge. “The manager, please.”
When she walked away, Jack said, “You sound different when you flash your badge.”
G laughed. “We all do.”
I didn’t have time to craft a clever comeback because the branch manager approached.
“Gentlemen, I’m Mr. Dougray, the branch manager. How can I help?”
“Mr. Dougray, I’m Officer Winchester, and these are my associates. Can we talk in your office?”
He checked my ID like he’d know how to spot a fake.
“Of course, right this way.”
In the manager’s large, organized office, Gibson and I sat in front of his desk while Jack stood near the door.
“Mr. Dougray, we have a bit of a mystery on our hands. Two of our fallen officers left this key behind, and we need your help finding out what it unlocks.”
“May I?” He held out his hand.
I handed him the key. We’d already photographed it from every angle and dusted it for prints, so we weren’t concerned about him touching it without gloves.
“It could be a safety deposit key, but it doesn’t look like one of ours.”
“Have you changed your keys in the last twenty-five years?”
Dougray shook his head. “No, we haven’t.”
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Dougray.”
“You’re welcome. I just wish I could’ve been more help.”
As we exited the bank, Jay’s voice cracked over the comms. “You have company. Two men at your three o’clock.”
I turned my head and looked up, like I was reading the sign above their heads.
When I turned back, I said, “I can’t see their faces.”
“We snapped pictures and sent them to Doug and Cate.”
“Good work.”
Jay and AJ scoffed.
“Condescending much?” Jack asked.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Sorry, Cuz, I’m just used to you acting like a condescending ass,” Jay said with a laugh.
He wasn’t wrong.
“Do you recognize them?” Jack asked.
“No.”
“That makes seven,” G said.
Only an idiot or a fool wouldn’t worry that our identified bad guy had an army of mercenaries at his beck and call.
I was neither.
“Let’s walk to the next location and see if they come out of the shadows.”
“We got you covered.”
Knowing Jay was a Marine Raider sniper and AJ was an Army weapons specialist helped me feel better, despite the neon target on my back.
Jay and AJ kept us updated as the two men followed us.
“Do you think they know what we’ll find?” Jack asked.
“No.” G and I answered together.
“That confident?”
“We scoured the files; the Singers never mentioned what the treasure is.” I said.
“What if they talked to the Singers?”
The implication hung in the air. What if they’d tortured the Singers into giving up the information?
“It’s possible, but unlikely. They wouldn’t need us if they knew.”
“And they wouldn’t have waited twenty years,” G added.
“Agreed. If they knew the location, they’d take us out and grab the key,” I said.
“Maybe they know the what but not the where,” Jack pondered out loud.
“Maybe.”
It seemed unlikely, but I couldn’t rule it out.
“We may want more backup when we find the where,” Jack said.
Backup would be nice, but I wouldn’t wait.
We went through the same song and dance at the next bank.
Our tail kept a respectable distance, waiting patiently while we talked to the branch manager.
“They’re pros,” AJ said.
I agreed; if it weren’t for AJ and Jay, we might not have noticed them.
Back in the sedan, Jack suggested we each carry our backpacks into each building. “If we find the treasure, we can split up.”
“Splitting up will set off their alarms,” I argued.
“But it’ll buy us time.”
“Someone slips out the back with the treasure?” G asked. “I like it.”
“We’ll be ready for extraction,” Jay said.
“Copy that.” I looked at G. “We won’t leave until after the treasure is safely on its way back to Weatherford,” I said.
“Who takes it?” G asked.
I didn’t hesitate. “Jack.”
“Why me?”
“Because you have a family to consider. There’s every possibility we’ll end up in the back of an unmarked van instead of the company car.”
“We won’t leave you without backup,” Jay said.
“You can and you will,” I ordered. “This is bigger than any of us, and trust me, we won’t go down without a fight.”
“Yes, sir,” Jack said. “You get all that, Jay?”
“Yes, sir,” Jay mimicked Jack. I had a feeling they’d just had an entire conversation without saying a word.
We carried our empty backpacks when we visited the next two locations on Jack’s list. Nada. Nichts. Nothing.
I was thinking we’d need a second day of searching when Jack said, “Hey, pull into the fast-food joint on the left.”
“Seriously? You want to stop for a greasy burger and fries?”
“Just do it.” Jack’s voice was laced with excitement. “And park so you’re facing the street.”
G did as Jack instructed as I turned to ask Jack what had him so excited.
“Turn around and tell me what you see.” Jack pointed out the windshield.
“Holy shit, Sheppard, you found it!”
Before G finished, I saw it.
A fading mural painted high on the wall of a brick building.
A blazing sun, complete with rays, occupied the left side. A full moon and a smattering of stars occupied the right. Connecting them, a rainbow that had seen better days.
“The ground floor business is a hostel.” Jack held up his phone. “They have rental lockers inside.”
“Why wasn’t this on your list?” I asked. Barked was more accurate.
“Dude, it’s a fucking hostel. The name didn’t come up in my search. Would you have thought to look up city murals?”
Nope.
“No, probably not. Sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“But let’s not get too excited. If they haven’t paid the rental fee in twenty years, the locker’s likely been emptied out.”
“Your tail stopped for a donut across the street,” AJ announced over comms.
“Any ID on them yet?”
“No, which brings our total number of goons to seven.”
“No one goes to this much trouble for a few trinkets,” G pondered.
“What do they know that we don’t?” I asked. I’d maintained the assumption they didn’t know what the treasure was, but what if?
What if I’d missed something? What if they knew what but not where? What if I put everyone in danger because I’d let my emotions distract me during the op?
Remembering what John said about not insulting the SSI guys, I assumed Jack was already looking and asked, “Jack, have you found the numbering system for lockers yet?”
“Fitting the numbers from the key to the locker layout as we speak.”
“Sheppard?”
Jack and Jay responded. Right. “Jay, let us know when you’re in position.”
“Aw, shucks, thanks for not assuming I’m too dumb to already be moving.” His sarcasm was thick and well deserved.
Gibson, Jack, and AJ didn’t hide their amusement.
“Like you’ve been any better,” I said to G.
“I haven’t, but they aren’t my family.”
That cut far deeper than Jay’s comments. I should’ve trusted them sooner.
“If Jay’s right and the word LOVE represents the numbers 2-6-3-8, then I think I have it narrowed down.”
“Care to fill us in?” G asked before I could.
“We’re in position, ready for exfil,” Jay interrupted.
“The second floor has six rooms. Room six has lockers.”
“Damn, that was brilliant!”
“Thank you.” Jack beamed. “But I wasn’t done.”
“I meant the Singers, but I guess you deserve the accolades too.”
“Fucker,” he grinned.
“I say we go to room six on the second floor and let pretty boy Sheppard here work his magic,” Gibson said.
“Pretty boy? Really?” Jack ran his hands through his hair. “I prefer ruggedly handsome.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. For the love of all things holy. “Just stop. Please?”
“Janerek’s taking a stroll to put eyes on your tail,” Jay informed us.
“Appreciate it.” I said. Maybe SSI would hire me after the CIA fired my ass for violating my oath.
There was a certain appeal to the idea of working with my uncle and cousins.
Their teams worked together effortlessly, and my job was a hundred times easier when my partners anticipated my needs and filled them.
“They’re enjoying a discount coffee while watching you like fucking creepers,” AJ said.
“We’re not in the CIA anymore,” G said with a laugh.
This was it. We all felt it. If the Singer’s treasure existed, it was inside the hostel.
“Jack, if we find anything, take it out the back and return to SSI.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Janerek, since you’re on foot, we’d love your support when we exit.”
“Copy that.”
“We should fill our bags so they don’t look empty when we walk out. They may grab them and leave us to fight another day,” Gibson said.
“I’m sure we can find something inside.” I pulled out my wallet. “How much cash do you have?”
“Two hundred and change,” G answered.
“One-twenty,” Jack said.
“I’m just shy of two. Five hundred should be enough to buy what we need to fill the bags.” And any bribes we might need to pay.
Inside, the helpful hostel manager told us the lockers could be rented long term, if someone paid up front, but that rarely happened.
“Is there any record of someone renting one for the last twenty years?” I asked.
“Don’t be absurd; our records don’t go back that far,” the manager laughed while looking at me like I was an idiot.
One look at the disorganized office space behind the counter told me they probably didn’t bother with records of any kind. Hope soared. If they didn’t keep records, would they notice a locker that’d been locked for over twenty years?
My clinical brain started cataloguing all the evidence that suggested this place was a hive of illegal activity. That’s not why you’re here.
“Do you mind if we check out the lockers on the second floor?” I asked, all nice and polite.
“I really shouldn’t let you. People don’t like cops snooping around.”
My brain twitched at his words and the expression accompanying them.
“We’re not cops,” Jack said. “We’re PIs, and it’d really help us out if you’d accept our donation to your establishment in return for a quick peek.”
Jack handed him fifty dollars, which he promptly pocketed. “I guess it’s okay.”
Anticipation buzzed between us as we calmly walked up the steps.
Room Six had benches in the center, two musty, stacked washer/dryer combos and a sink along the back wall, and lockers lining the two side walls. One wall housed long lockers, like the kind we had in high school, with open shelves on top. The other had mid-sized lockers stacked three high.
“Your tail decided to take a walk. When you exit, head south,” AJ warned us.
“Copy that.”
Each row had twelve lockers.
The locker numbers were consecutive, from the bottom left to the top right, rather than by row, so the eighth locker in the third row was marked two dash thirty-two rather than two-six-three-eight.
The Singers were clever people; they wouldn’t have used the locker number.
I pulled the key out of my pocket. “Here goes nothing.”
The key slid in, but when I turned it to the right, it didn’t budge.
I turned it to the left.
Nothing.
Shit.
“It’s been twenty years, wiggle it and try again,” Jack said.
I pulled the key out and reinserted it. I wiggled it a little and tried again.
I turned it to the right. Nada.
Inhaling deeply and praying for the first time in over a decade, I turned the key to the left.
The lock gave with a dull click.
My heart stopped as my mind raced.
We’d done it. We’d found the Singer’s treasure.