An Unmarked Grave (31 page)

"Head for the barn"

The icy wind howled around us, nipping at our cheeks.

That's when I remembered the seed room. I glanced
around, searching for a means of escape.

Perry jerked the rope on my neck, choking me. "Stop
trying to figure out anything, Boudreaux. If you're a good
Catholic, now's the time to be saying your Hail Mary's or
whatever you say"

I gasped out, "Just tell me. Why Houston? I know Chester,
but why Houston?"

Perry barked, "Don't tell him nothing, Marv. Nothing."

"What are they going to do? In ten minutes, they'll be
nothing but smoke and ashes. They can't do a thing to us"
He paused, then continued. "I'll tell you, Boudreaux. An accident. Just a stupid accident, but I was a state representative,
and any scandal would have ruined me and Elysian Hills"

"Yeah," Perry put in. "The state had kept mineral rights to
our area. Marv was within two votes in the state senate of
getting the rights assigned to us like they should have been
all along"

I listened incredulously. "You mean, you killed a man for
oil and gas?"

Perry sneered. "Marv told you it was an accident. Besides, Jim Bob wasn't much of a man at the last"

"That's right," Marv offered. "He knew his wife and me
had been fooling around. He got drunk one night and came
over when Gus was there. Jim Bob jumped me. Gus yanked
him off and threw him down. He hit his head on the fireplace hearth" He shivered. "Let's hurry up, Gus. It's getting
colder. But that's all it was, an accident. And we weren't
about to see where we had grown up, our parents had grown
up, become nothing but a ghost town just because of a stupid accident of a drunk-not when all that money was out
there waiting for us"

I laughed, which was a mistake. And I retorted, which
turned out to be a bigger mistake, "Ghost town? What do
you think this dump is now, downtown Dallas?"

The next thing I knew, the cold muzzle of a revolver
slammed into the back of my head, knocking me to the
ground. "That'll stop the wisecracks," Perry growled.

Rough hands jerked me up and shoved me toward the
barn. "Get in there," Lewis snarled, shoving me forward.

I felt warm blood running down the back of my head. I
couldn't think, but somewhere deep in the recesses of my
brain, I remembered my pocketknife. If they were planning
what I thought, to lock us in the seed room and burn the
barn around us, we could use the pocketknife to free our
hands. Then we could worry about escaping.

We stumbled into the barn, and they shoved us into the
seed room. I stumbled to the floor and lay motionless, trying to still the pounding and swirling sensations in my skull. I
felt the rough weave of empty burlap feed sacks pressing
against my cheek.

Lewis spoke up. "You think we should leave them tied?
What if the plastic ties don't burn?"

Perry sneered. "Don't worry. I'll be the first one out
here. I'll make sure there's nothing for George to find"

"Just be sure. Sometimes old George takes that justice of
the peace job too serious"

"I'll handle George like I did with Chester"

The door creaked shut.

I started to fumble for my knife, and then I heard Perry
say, "Hold it."

Moments later, rough hands rolled me over and emptied
my pockets. He chuckled. "I figured Boudreaux to carry a
knife. All those farm boys do"

The door slammed shut.

Jack's voice quavered. "Tony, Tony! You awake?"

"Yeah," I muttered, struggling to sit up. I yanked at the
plastic tie about my wrists, but there was no give, and Jack's
fingers were too fat to depress the tiny tab in the clasp.

Moments later, the first wisps of acrid smoke seeped
through the minute cracks in the seed bin. I scooted across
the room and lay on my back so I could kick on the door. I
remembered the heavy lock and the drop bar across the door.
I didn't know if we could kick it down or not, but we had no
other choice. "Get over here and help," I commanded Jack.
"Maybe together, we can break this thing down"

We kicked at the door for several minutes as the smoke
grew thicker, and then the faint crackling of fire reached us.

Suddenly, Jack exclaimed, "Tony! My nail clippers! You
think they'll work? Huh, do you?"

Nail clippers! I closed my eyes. What did we have to
lose? "Let's give it a try."

Jack grunted and groaned as he tried to reach into his
pocket with both hands. "I can't do it, Tony. I can't get my
arms around my belly"

Any other time, I would have laughed, but somehow, in
that situation, I couldn't see the humor. I turned on my side.
"All right. Scoot over to me. Find my hands and put your
pocket next to them"

I blinked against the stinging smoke. Tears welled in my
eyes and ran down my cheeks, and the acrid smoke was
beginning to burn my lungs. The crackling of flames grew
louder. I felt his trousers. My fingers searched for the pocket.
"Okay, I've got your pocket. Now, let me see if I can get my
hands down it"

"Hurry, hurry!"

After several futile efforts, I muttered a curse. "I can't get
my hands down your pocket"

"Then turn it inside out," he exclaimed.

Inside out! Why hadn't I thought of that? I almost laughed
at the irony of my situation. Here I'd just discovered my old
pal was a genius, and I'd never live to enjoy his company.

Moments later, I passed the clippers to Jack, and he got
busy nipping away at the plastic tie about my wrists.

The smoke grew thicker, the flames grew louder, and then
we felt the heat.

Jack gasped. "Tony!"

"Keep trying, Jack. You're our only chance" I don't know
if I believed that or not. Even if we freed ourselves, we still had to find some way to open the door before the smoke
suffocated us.

From outside came the snapping of timber as joists began to fall.

Suddenly, my hands fell free.

With a crazy laugh, I rolled over. "You did it, Jack, you
did it. Now give me your hands." Fumbling in the dark, I
found the tab on the clamp and depressed it, permitting the
plastic tie to slide free.

Coughing and hacking against the choking smoke, I
helped Jack to his feet. Together we threw our shoulders into
the door. It refused to budge. We turned to the walls, but they
were just as solid.

We lost track of time.

Jack gasped. "Tony! I can't breathe. I-"

"Down on the floor, Jack. Smoke's not as thick there."

He lay down, gasping for breath. "Tony. My throat. It's
burning. I can't-"

I refused to lie down, knowing that if I did, I'd never rise.
I continued to throw myself into the door, oblivious to breaking any bones. I felt the door give slightly. I redoubled my
efforts.

My breath was coming in short, burning gasps. I kept my
eyes closed against the stinging smoke. And then I felt the
heat seeping through the walls.

With abandon, I threw my weight against the door. It gave
a little more. Time and again, with renewed desperation,
I hurled myself against it, feeling it budge a fraction with
each blow, but it continued to hold.

I paused, leaning my head against the door. The last words
I remember muttering were, "I don't believe this." I backed away and threw myself into the door again and again until
an all-encompassing darkness engulfed me.

Next thing I remember was being cold and then hands
shaking me awake. I opened my eyes and stared into the most
beautiful mixture of mud and snow I'd ever seen. I glanced
up, my face feeling the heat of the burning barn twenty-five
yards away.

Hands shook me again. "Boudreaux! You okay?"

I rolled over and stared into the face of Lester Taggart!

uck Ford's face appeared from the darkness beside
Taggart. "Are you all right, Boudreaux? What in the Sam
Hill is going on out here? We saw the fire and came down
to see what was taking place"

"Jack! Where's Jack?" Frantically, I scooted around in
the snow and found Jack behind me. I scrabbled over to
him on my hands and knees just as he broke into spasms of
coughing.

I dropped my head to his chest and muttered a short
prayer of thanks. Then I remembered Taggart. I pushed to
my feet and jabbed a finger at him. "What are you doing
here?" I shouted, taking a threatening step in his direction.

Ford stepped in front of me. "Hold on, Boudreaux. This is
my cousin I told you about. He's the one who gave me the information I passed on to you" He paused and gave the burning barn a wry look. "Information it appears you ignored"

"Cousin? But-"

Taggart held up his hands. "Cool off, Boudreaux. Danny
O'Banion sent me"

"O'Banion?"

"After you had him check on the funeral home business,
he called me and hired me to keep an eye on you up here"

Then I remembered Danny's last words. "You sound
funny. I'll send someone up there"

I had laughed at that redheaded Irishman and told him no,
but he had sent someone anyway. I could hug him.

Danny had made another remark I remembered. About
Taggart. Once he took a job, he stuck it out. He was loyal,
and that was why he was in demand.

I looked up at Taggart. Right now that bulldog face of his
looked like an angel's. "Knowing Danny, that figures" I offered him my hand. "Thanks"

He took it and with a wink replied, "Just doing a job"

"I owe you two guys. Thanks for getting us out"

Ford shook his head. "We didn't. When we got here, you
were laying right there"

"Huh?" I looked around at Jack. "Did you drag me out
here?"

Sitting in the mud, Jack shook his head, clearly puzzled.
"Last I remember is laying down on the floor." He paused. His frown grew deeper. "Wasn't it you?"

"No" I scratched my head. "If I did, I don't remember it"

Ford grinned. "That happens. My pa was bucked off a
horse one time. Landed on his head. Got back up on it and
broke it. A week later in church, he suddenly asked ma where
the horse was. He wanted to get back on and break it. That
week was always a blank to the old man until the day he passed on" He continued. "I got me a suspicion, but I'd like
to know what happened out here"

I looked from one to the other, then quickly told them
the story. When I finished, Ford pursed his lips and nodded.
"I figured something. I hated Jim Bob, and I was tickled to
see him gone, but I always puzzled over the fact that he did
go. His roots was here. It didn't make sense that he just up
and took off without saying a word to nobody"

"We've got pictures of Houston's remains in the grave. Of
course, knowing the sheriff and Lewis, they might have already dug the coffin up and disposed of them"

Taggart shook his head and grinned. "Nope. It's still
there"

I looked at him. "How do you know?"

"I've been watching."

A tiny grin played over my face. "Thanks again."

Headlights turned off the highway onto Cemetery Road.

"Looks like we're fixing to have a visitor," Ford muttered.
"So now what?"

Moments later two more sets of headlights turned onto
the road. "A crowd is more likely," Taggart said.

"All right. One of them is bound to be the sheriff. "You
and Taggart just stand where you are. You saw the fire, and
you came to see what was going on. Jack and I are going
to hide in the bushes over here. Maybe the sheriff will be so
surprised to see us that he'll give himself away."

Taggart arched an eyebrow. "What if he don't?"

"I still have the pictures of the grave"

"He'll find some way to sneak out of that"

Then I had an idea. "Maybe not, Buck. Maybe not. Us
city boys got some smarts too"

Lights swept across the countryside as a car pulled into
the drive. To my surprise, it was Gabe and Mabel Hooker.
Moments later, Sheriff Perry pulled in, followed by Newt
Gibons. Almost the whole town had turned out.

Mabel and Gabe sloshed through the snow to Ford and
Taggart, followed moments later by Sheriff Perry, who came
to stand beside them. "What's going on here?"