| Mystery and Crime Fiction posted September 19, 2021 | Chapters: |
...56 57 -58- 59... 
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Coming to the end of the line...
A chapter in the book Secrets in the Wind
Secrets in the Wind - Chap 58
by Begin Again
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
| Background Jack McKinley's recent death appears to be suspicious. The investigation of one crime leads to another and so many other secrets in the wind. |
“Tito, bring your knife. The floorboards over here are loose.” Miguel stepped on a squeaky board, and it shifted beneath his boot. Tito pushed the blade into the crack, but nothing popped.
“We’ve searched everywhere. What are we going to do when Mason wakes up? He won’t be happy.” Tito stared at their boss, slumped over in the chair.
“You were defending yourself. With that stupid cowboy hat, you didn’t see his face. He wasn’t driving a vehicle we knew.”
“I was defending myself? What about you? You’re no innocent bystander. And how do you explain the girl? She’s supposed to be dead in the church's basement.”
“This is Mason. He will not give either of us time to explain. We need to find whatever he came to get. It was important enough for him to hang around.”
After searching under every piece of furniture, both men collapsed on the floor. “There’s nothing here, Miguel. Maybe he had no place to go, so he came here.”
“Believe me, there’s a reason he came to the cabin, and it will not be because he had no place to go.”
“We’ve searched everywhere. We don’t even know what we’re looking for, Miguel. I give up.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Miguel leaned against the wood box, staring at the empty fireplace. His eyes traveled from the base of the fireplace up the rock wall. “Tito, does that rock look loose to you?” Miguel pointed about halfway up the wall from the mantel. “The big red one.”
“Maybe. It’s sitting kind of funny.” Tito cocked his head and looked at the strange rock in the chimney. “I can’t reach it.”
“Push the wood box over there. We can stand on it. We’ve looked everywhere else.”
“Do you know how heavy that box is? I’m going to need help,” Tito grunted.
“Okay, on the count of three, we push.” They braced their hands against the side of the box. “One. Two. Three.” Besides the loud grunting, nothing happened. “Try again. One, two, three.”
The wood box slid a few inches. They pushed it again, and it finally moved from its spot. “Miguel, look. The floorboards are loose.” Tito put the tip of his knife in the crack and levered it against the boards. It popped out. “Get a flashlight. I can see something, but I’m not sticking my hands in there till I know what it is.” Tito pulled the remaining board out so they could see into the hole.
A large flashlight sat on the fireplace mantel, and Miguel grabbed it. He turned it on, and the beam lit up the dark hole. Deep beneath the floorboards was a green canvas bag. Tito reached through the cobwebs, pulled the bag out of the hole, and set it on the floor between them. Bugs and loose dirt fell to the floor.
“Looks like it’s been there for a while.” Miguel unzipped it and opened it wide to see what was inside. Tito whistled as he stared over Miguel’s shoulder.
Both men could see stacks of money, thousand dollars, and one-hundred-dollar bills bound with rubber bands. Besides the cash, the bag contained a handgun, several boxes of bullets, several ledger books, and a ring of keys. Tito grabbed a bundle of the large bills and spread them across the floor.
The set of keys caught Miguel’s eyes, and he picked them out of the bag to examine them; five keys with a paper tag that read “Columbia Security and Storage. He shoved the ring of keys in his pocket and lifted one ledger out.
“Oh, man, I knew Mason was smart, but this man is a genius.” Mason turned page after page of the book, scanning the written information. “He’s got a dossier on every important person in this area, including the mayor, the sheriff, and some mighty influential people. Wow! Now we know how he’s got so much clout.”
“I’ll take those and the bag.” While examining their findings, neither men knew Mason was conscious and standing directly above them with the frying pan. Mason sneered at them. “It appears you idiots aren’t capable of following any directions.”
Tito’s eyes shifted to his knife lying on the fireplace hearth and then to the gun in the bag. Neither was a viable defense. Miguel shifted his weight to his good leg, attempting to stand.
Mason snapped, “Stay there. I am surprised you didn’t follow my instructions with the girl. Unfortunately, you’re going to regret it.”
“She’s an innocent child.”
“Child or not, she’s your death sentence. Now shove that bag over to me.” Mason watched their every move as he threatened them, “Don’t try anything funny either.”
Tito reached for the bag, but Miguel’s hand swung out to stop him. “Come and get it. The element of surprise is gone with your frying pan.” Miguel glanced sideways at Tito, “Guess Mason here thinks he’s Clint Eastwood.”
Tito loved westerns, but his favorites were ones with Clint Eastwood. He could give you a blow-by-blow description of entire barroom brawls. Tito grinned.
Miguel knew Mason was strong because he was a rancher, but he didn’t know how to bar fight; that’s why he had men to do his dirty work. He was confident Tito could take him.
“You are dead meat.” Mason gritted his teeth as he swung the frying pan. Miguel leaned to the side, and it crashed against the stone fireplace.
Adrenalin pumped, sparking Mason’s anger. Wide-eyed, he raised a kitchen chair above his head and charged toward Miguel. At that precise moment, Tito’s athletic body lunged forward, slamming his broad shoulders into Mason’s unsteady legs, knocking him off balance to the floor. Tito clutched Mason’s shirt collar and pulled him to his knees. The expensive fabric posed no resistance to his forceful hands.
Miguel heard the raspy sound of shredding cloth as Tito’s fists pounded his opponent’s face. Mason stumbled backward, blood spilling from his nose and saliva spewing from his mouth. As he sprawled across the cabin floor, Tito raised his boot and smashed the sole into Mason’s bloody face.
Refusing to accept failure, Mason pulled himself to his feet and charged like a raging bull, catching Tito in his midsection. The massive fighter lost footing and fell to the floor. Mason grabbed a kitchen knife with both hands and plunged it toward Tito’s chest. In Eastwood style, he rolled away.
It sounded like popcorn—pop, pop, pop.
Miguel leaned against the fireplace, gun in hand as smoke circled the barrel. The bullet punched through Mason’s neck, leaving a gaping hole. Blood gushed from the open wound as he dropped to a sitting position on the floor. His eyes were glassy, and the warm blood soaked his designer shirt as he took his last breath.
Tito clamored to his feet. “I can’t believe it. You shot him.”
Miguel pointed toward the roof of the cabin. “Forget the celebrating; we’ve got company.”
Tito raced to the window. A helicopter hovered above the cabin, and police officers and agents positioned themselves behind the vehicles. His adrenalin was pumping full steam like a train engine.
“Sorry, but I’m not going down without a fight.” He rushed Miguel, shoulder checking him, sending him into the fireplace and then to the floor. Grabbing the gun, he yanked Annie from the sofa and headed for the door.
“Tito, don’t,” Miguel screamed. “Leave the girl.” He struggled to regain an upright position. As Tito pulled the door wide open, Annie was kicking and crying and Tito yelled, “I’m coming out.”
Miguel could see the gun muzzles pointed at the cabin while the people crouched behind the cars. Using the broom, he hobbled toward the door as Tito raced toward the Land Rover.
Miguel screamed, “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot.”
“We’ve searched everywhere. What are we going to do when Mason wakes up? He won’t be happy.” Tito stared at their boss, slumped over in the chair.
“You were defending yourself. With that stupid cowboy hat, you didn’t see his face. He wasn’t driving a vehicle we knew.”
“I was defending myself? What about you? You’re no innocent bystander. And how do you explain the girl? She’s supposed to be dead in the church's basement.”
“This is Mason. He will not give either of us time to explain. We need to find whatever he came to get. It was important enough for him to hang around.”
After searching under every piece of furniture, both men collapsed on the floor. “There’s nothing here, Miguel. Maybe he had no place to go, so he came here.”
“Believe me, there’s a reason he came to the cabin, and it will not be because he had no place to go.”
“We’ve searched everywhere. We don’t even know what we’re looking for, Miguel. I give up.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Miguel leaned against the wood box, staring at the empty fireplace. His eyes traveled from the base of the fireplace up the rock wall. “Tito, does that rock look loose to you?” Miguel pointed about halfway up the wall from the mantel. “The big red one.”
“Maybe. It’s sitting kind of funny.” Tito cocked his head and looked at the strange rock in the chimney. “I can’t reach it.”
“Push the wood box over there. We can stand on it. We’ve looked everywhere else.”
“Do you know how heavy that box is? I’m going to need help,” Tito grunted.
“Okay, on the count of three, we push.” They braced their hands against the side of the box. “One. Two. Three.” Besides the loud grunting, nothing happened. “Try again. One, two, three.”
The wood box slid a few inches. They pushed it again, and it finally moved from its spot. “Miguel, look. The floorboards are loose.” Tito put the tip of his knife in the crack and levered it against the boards. It popped out. “Get a flashlight. I can see something, but I’m not sticking my hands in there till I know what it is.” Tito pulled the remaining board out so they could see into the hole.
A large flashlight sat on the fireplace mantel, and Miguel grabbed it. He turned it on, and the beam lit up the dark hole. Deep beneath the floorboards was a green canvas bag. Tito reached through the cobwebs, pulled the bag out of the hole, and set it on the floor between them. Bugs and loose dirt fell to the floor.
“Looks like it’s been there for a while.” Miguel unzipped it and opened it wide to see what was inside. Tito whistled as he stared over Miguel’s shoulder.
Both men could see stacks of money, thousand dollars, and one-hundred-dollar bills bound with rubber bands. Besides the cash, the bag contained a handgun, several boxes of bullets, several ledger books, and a ring of keys. Tito grabbed a bundle of the large bills and spread them across the floor.
The set of keys caught Miguel’s eyes, and he picked them out of the bag to examine them; five keys with a paper tag that read “Columbia Security and Storage. He shoved the ring of keys in his pocket and lifted one ledger out.
“Oh, man, I knew Mason was smart, but this man is a genius.” Mason turned page after page of the book, scanning the written information. “He’s got a dossier on every important person in this area, including the mayor, the sheriff, and some mighty influential people. Wow! Now we know how he’s got so much clout.”
“I’ll take those and the bag.” While examining their findings, neither men knew Mason was conscious and standing directly above them with the frying pan. Mason sneered at them. “It appears you idiots aren’t capable of following any directions.”
Tito’s eyes shifted to his knife lying on the fireplace hearth and then to the gun in the bag. Neither was a viable defense. Miguel shifted his weight to his good leg, attempting to stand.
Mason snapped, “Stay there. I am surprised you didn’t follow my instructions with the girl. Unfortunately, you’re going to regret it.”
“She’s an innocent child.”
“Child or not, she’s your death sentence. Now shove that bag over to me.” Mason watched their every move as he threatened them, “Don’t try anything funny either.”
Tito reached for the bag, but Miguel’s hand swung out to stop him. “Come and get it. The element of surprise is gone with your frying pan.” Miguel glanced sideways at Tito, “Guess Mason here thinks he’s Clint Eastwood.”
Tito loved westerns, but his favorites were ones with Clint Eastwood. He could give you a blow-by-blow description of entire barroom brawls. Tito grinned.
Miguel knew Mason was strong because he was a rancher, but he didn’t know how to bar fight; that’s why he had men to do his dirty work. He was confident Tito could take him.
“You are dead meat.” Mason gritted his teeth as he swung the frying pan. Miguel leaned to the side, and it crashed against the stone fireplace.
Adrenalin pumped, sparking Mason’s anger. Wide-eyed, he raised a kitchen chair above his head and charged toward Miguel. At that precise moment, Tito’s athletic body lunged forward, slamming his broad shoulders into Mason’s unsteady legs, knocking him off balance to the floor. Tito clutched Mason’s shirt collar and pulled him to his knees. The expensive fabric posed no resistance to his forceful hands.
Miguel heard the raspy sound of shredding cloth as Tito’s fists pounded his opponent’s face. Mason stumbled backward, blood spilling from his nose and saliva spewing from his mouth. As he sprawled across the cabin floor, Tito raised his boot and smashed the sole into Mason’s bloody face.
Refusing to accept failure, Mason pulled himself to his feet and charged like a raging bull, catching Tito in his midsection. The massive fighter lost footing and fell to the floor. Mason grabbed a kitchen knife with both hands and plunged it toward Tito’s chest. In Eastwood style, he rolled away.
It sounded like popcorn—pop, pop, pop.
Miguel leaned against the fireplace, gun in hand as smoke circled the barrel. The bullet punched through Mason’s neck, leaving a gaping hole. Blood gushed from the open wound as he dropped to a sitting position on the floor. His eyes were glassy, and the warm blood soaked his designer shirt as he took his last breath.
Tito clamored to his feet. “I can’t believe it. You shot him.”
Miguel pointed toward the roof of the cabin. “Forget the celebrating; we’ve got company.”
Tito raced to the window. A helicopter hovered above the cabin, and police officers and agents positioned themselves behind the vehicles. His adrenalin was pumping full steam like a train engine.
“Sorry, but I’m not going down without a fight.” He rushed Miguel, shoulder checking him, sending him into the fireplace and then to the floor. Grabbing the gun, he yanked Annie from the sofa and headed for the door.
“Tito, don’t,” Miguel screamed. “Leave the girl.” He struggled to regain an upright position. As Tito pulled the door wide open, Annie was kicking and crying and Tito yelled, “I’m coming out.”
Miguel could see the gun muzzles pointed at the cabin while the people crouched behind the cars. Using the broom, he hobbled toward the door as Tito raced toward the Land Rover.
Miguel screamed, “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot.”
 Recognized |
Theodore (Ted) and Meredith Cranston - previous owners of Sweet Haven Estates
Jack McKinley - present owner of Sweet Haven Estates - deceased
Elizabeth (Liz) McKinley - Jack's widow and owner of Sweet Haven Estates
Alyssa Shelton - (Allie) Liz's best friend and an Investigative Journalist
Darryl Pennington - Estate Foreman for past and previous owners
Mary Hunter - Retired nurse and current caregiver of Faith and Annie
Faith Cranston-Newton - daughter of the Ted and Meredith Cranston
Annie Cranston-Newton - Faith's daughter
Sebastian - the lovable St. Bernard and Annie's companion
Dr. Eugene Copeland - the local physician
Sofia Sanchez - Mason Caldwell's housekeeper
Miguel Sanchez - vineyard supervisor
Jon Saladino - Priest and much more
Cassidy Rotello - assistant of Mason Caldwell
Mason Caldwell - rancher and owner of a gambling casino
Garth Woodman - (Jeremy) Undercover FBI
Hank Armato - Private Investigator
Emmy Armato - Hank's wife and also retired detective
Cynthia - librarian, historian, town gossip, and wanna-be detective
Michael - realtor and Cynthia's nephew
Tango, Poppa, Howard, Pete - FBI agents
Tito - one of Mason's henchmen
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Jack McKinley - present owner of Sweet Haven Estates - deceased
Elizabeth (Liz) McKinley - Jack's widow and owner of Sweet Haven Estates
Alyssa Shelton - (Allie) Liz's best friend and an Investigative Journalist
Darryl Pennington - Estate Foreman for past and previous owners
Mary Hunter - Retired nurse and current caregiver of Faith and Annie
Faith Cranston-Newton - daughter of the Ted and Meredith Cranston
Annie Cranston-Newton - Faith's daughter
Sebastian - the lovable St. Bernard and Annie's companion
Dr. Eugene Copeland - the local physician
Sofia Sanchez - Mason Caldwell's housekeeper
Miguel Sanchez - vineyard supervisor
Jon Saladino - Priest and much more
Cassidy Rotello - assistant of Mason Caldwell
Mason Caldwell - rancher and owner of a gambling casino
Garth Woodman - (Jeremy) Undercover FBI
Hank Armato - Private Investigator
Emmy Armato - Hank's wife and also retired detective
Cynthia - librarian, historian, town gossip, and wanna-be detective
Michael - realtor and Cynthia's nephew
Tango, Poppa, Howard, Pete - FBI agents
Tito - one of Mason's henchmen
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