Jeff Abbott - Black Joint Point

‘Loading what? Out in the middle of nowhere?’ Liz asked.

‘Judge,’ David said.

Liz glanced at the two of them, gauging the tension. Whit stayed quiet. ‘I won’t ask. You’ve got my report. The families can have the bodies back tomorrow.’

They walked into the parking lot, got into David’s police cruiser. David started the engine but didn’t shift into drive. ‘The treasure idea. It’s interesting, but until I see something more it’s not relevant.’

‘You can’t ignore those relics.’

‘I’m more interested in modern-day motives.’

‘The killers had shovels and trucks, David. Do you think they were digging for oil?’

‘I’m not jumping to a whacked-out conclusion, Judge. The skeletons could be old Gilbert family members. That seems far more likely than buried treasure in my mind. Surely you see that.’ David eased out into Corpus Christi traffic, headed for the Harbor Bridge. ‘I mean, I understand this treasure idea’s interesting to you because it takes Lucy out of the equation. She’s got the prime motive for the murder. She benefits the most.’ He clicked his tongue against his teeth.

‘Lucy had nothing to do with this. She didn’t even know about the will.’

‘You one hundred percent sure she didn’t?’

‘I am.’

‘Certainty’s a nice thing. You don’t see it often. You want to grab dinner?’ The unexpected olive branch made Whit suspicious.

‘Why?’

‘Christ, that’s nice. We work together. I’m making an effort here.’

‘Make the effort by not accusing Lucy.’

‘We’ll talk about it. You eat barbecue?’

There was a nasty calculation, Whit thought, in the smile, and he wanted to know what was behind it. ‘Sure I do. Let’s go.’

Gar carried Claudia out onto Jupiter’s deck. She was still blindfolded, and the heat of the sun touched her face and legs. He lurched and for a freezing moment she thought he was throwing her overboard. But then he settled her feet on deck, held her by her shoulders, and she realized he’d crossed the railing to the Miss Catherine. We haven’t really moved, Claudia realized. She wondered how cold a watery grave would feel, the sky forever denied, your flesh drifting off your bones over the weeks, your leg bones and hipbones and ribs settling into the ooze, like artifacts, for the slow dissolve into muck itself.

‘Don’t do this,’ she said. ‘Please.’ She balled her hands into fists, but she knew with a sick sinking feeling he was much stronger than she was. She needed a weapon to even the odds.

‘He’s not going to hurt you.’ Danny’s voice came from behind her. ‘I just want to talk to you a minute.’

So this wasn’t about rape, at least for the next five minutes.

Gar steered her – walking made her broken toe throb even worse – into a galley that reeked of burned pizza, with a thin odor of rum and sweat souring the air. He steered Claudia into a vinyl booth and pushed her into the seat.

‘Now, Claudia,’ Danny said. ‘We can talk for a few minutes. While we wait to be sure Stoney’s cooperating.’

Breath tickled Claudia’s ear. ‘If this deal sours,’ Gar whispered, ‘I’m gonna have fun with you. Pour some Wesson oil between your legs and have us a little marathon.’

Her heart struck her ribs like a hammer hitting piano wire.

‘Let her be,’ Danny said. ‘Go back to the other boat.’

‘Behave,’ Gar said, presumably to her. Claudia heard a door close, the smell of the rum moved closer, vinyl crackled as Danny slid into the booth’s other side. She put her hands – still bound in front of her – on the table. The linoleum was Sticky.

‘Don’t be afraid,’ Danny said.

‘Yeah, right.’ Gar’s threat wriggled in her ear like a worm.

‘I don’t think he’ll rape you. He’s all talk. Those two boys, well, they slept in the same stateroom last night and I heard groaning. Don’t think they had upset stomachs.’ The barest hint of moral outrage colored his voice.

‘He broke my toe because he didn’t like what I said. And frankly, you’re not in control of him or what he does.’

‘I am.’

‘You’re not,’ she said. ‘I can hear it in their voices. Those two freaks are just using you to get at this cash. You’re too gentle. You don’t have the stomach for this or what it might take. You’re as dead as me and Ben if this doesn’t work out.’

‘I’m sorry you’re in this mess, but you picked your friends badly. You thirsty, hon? Want some water?’

‘Please.’

A tap gurgled. Then he pushed a glass into her hands. She drank. He moved against the vinyl, making it squeak, trying to get comfortable. ‘Tell me what you know about Stoney.’

‘Nothing. I know Ben. I barely knew Stoney in high school.’

‘High school. Before he was a millionaire.’

‘Yes.’

‘He much different now?’

‘He has more lunch money.’

A match scratched, she smelled the flash of fire. Cigarette paper crackled its whisper and silky smoke brushed her nostrils. ‘So in high school did he run roughshod over people? Kill anyone who got in his way?’

‘Talk is cheap,’ she said. ‘What proof do you have he killed anybody?’

‘Because only he knew about the journal,’ Danny said. ‘I told him about it, he decided he wanted it, and he killed to get it.’

The journal. The emerald. She’d heard him refer to both before. But this was about more, about stealing millions of Stoney’s cash. ‘Forget that for a minute, since he says he doesn’t have it. Y’all can’t get away with stealing his money electronically. Transactions leave electronic trails. You’ll get caught within days.’ She leaned a little toward Danny and smelled rum. ‘Having a little liquid courage?’ she asked.

‘You want some?’

‘Sure. For medicinal purposes. I get seasick when I’m uncomfortable. These ropes really hurt and my foot’s aching.’ Let him think she was delicate and helpless.

A dribble of rum trickled into her glass. ‘Where you work, Claudia?’ Danny asked, as though he were a bartender making conversation.

‘I’m a secretary,’ she lied. ‘I work for a justice of the peace in Port Leo. Judge Whit Mosley.’

‘You didn’t work today?’

Today was Thursday. She had taken Wednesday, today, and Friday off. She would not be missed at the police department until Monday. But the pirates didn’t know that.

‘I took off today,’ she said. ‘Just today because Fridays we have juvenile court. It’s always a zoo.’

‘Damned kids.’ She heard the soft puff of his cigarette. ‘How about I call this judge? Tell him y’all ran into motor trouble down near Padre. You’ll be out another day. I’ll say I’m the mechanic fixing it. I’m sure he’ll understand.’

She prayed, silently, that if Danny made the call Whit would have the presence of mind not to blurt, What the hell are you talking about? She doesn’t work for me. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. ‘He won’t accept a stranger calling and making excuses for me. I’d have to talk with him.’

‘We’ll discuss that with my colleagues.’

‘Colleagues. That’s generous.’

Ten seconds of silence. She couldn’t see his face. Frown of anger, smile of indulgence, scowl of disbelief? Or maybe ready to stub that cigarette out on her forehead.

‘They breaking a deal with you?’ she asked. ‘They care about the money, not about punishing Stoney or this emerald or whatever it is you care about.’

‘Hush now.’

‘Maybe I can help you.’

‘Why would you help me, honey?’

‘Because I want to live. I’ll get you what you want, if you’ll get us out of this alive.’