A Ton of Gold (Crystal Moore Suspense Book 1) Read online

  "Is she hurt?”

  "The sheriff doesn't think so, but she refuses to go to the hospital. So he really doesn't know. I’ve got to go.”

  "Can you call her?”

  "He said she wasn't answering the phone, the door, or questions.”

  Chapter 5

  NORMALLY, Crystal enjoyed the drive into East Texas. Today, her mind grappled with the little information she had. Nana had been in an accident; Bill Glothe didn't think she was hurt; he didn't know. And Bill was right. She wasn’t answering the phone.

  Nana’s stubborn streak stretched from the crown of her head to the ball of her foot. She might be seriously injured and refuse to see a doctor. Nana’s call about someone trying to run her off the road replayed itself in Crystal’s mind, and as much as she tried to lock out the thought, she couldn’t forget her parent’s death. An auto accident ended their lives. Unshed tears clouded her vision. Please, dear God, not Nana, too.

  An hour later, she turned off the county road into The Park and almost instantly felt the transformation begin. She had been gripping the steering wheel so tightly her back and shoulders ached. Now, her muscles began to relax and her breathing slowed to fit the more relaxed pace of life in the country. For the first time since Glothe’s phone call, she allowed herself to take a more optimistic view.

  The trees thinned slightly and the drive leveled off. The lake shimmered off to the right. Up ahead, the house rested under a canopy of tall pines. From this angle, it appeared rather unassuming. Cedar shakes, weathered to the same color as the trunks of the trees, covered the exterior. One could drive almost up to the house without being aware of it.

  A car Crystal did not recognize was parked under the shed. It jolted her back to the reality that this was not a pleasure trip. Worry quickly replaced Crystal’s momentary feeling of tranquility. She slammed her mind shut to the image trying to resurface: her parents’ auto crash.

  She parked and rushed in the back door. “Nana,” she called.

  "On the veranda.”

  Crystal hurried through the bright living room with its high ceiling and glass wall overlooking the lake. As she stepped out onto the huge covered porch, her eyes immediately focused on the bandage. Trying not to let her voice show the level of her concern, she asked, "Nana, what happened to your head?”

  "Where're your manners, girl? You remember Melva, don't you?”

  Crystal looked chagrined. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Larson. How are you? I haven't seen you...in a year, I guess.”

  "I'm doing just fine, Crystal, and no need to apologize. You're concerned about your grandmother, as you should be. So am I. She thinks she's made of rock. Mostly her head, I reckon. She’d rather see her casket coming than admit she was hurt or sick.” Melva, at seventy-four two years younger than Eula, eased herself up out of the high-backed rocker. "I've heard all about the accident. Didn't find it all that interesting the first time, so I think I'll mosey on before you get the details.”

  "If you stay, maybe I won't have to tell her about it.” Eula sounded like a kid who had just broken a window at school.

  "Not a chance, Nana.”

  Eula turned her head and spoke to Melva, who was already entering the house. "We're still set for the weekend?”

  "I'm not the one with a banged-up noggin. Let's see how you feel in a day or two.”

  "I'm fine. Get packed.”

  "Already am. Good to see you again, Crystal. See if you can get ol' rock head to rest a bit.” The last was spoken over her shoulder as Melva plodded through the living room and left.

  "Okay, Nana. What happened?”

  "Nothing much.”

  "I didn't drive all the way from Dallas for 'nothing much.' Let's have the details.”

  "Well, like I told you, somebody's trying to kill me. I got in my car to go down to Nickel this morning. You know how the county road has that steep hill running straight down to the highway, and the lake on the other side? Well, I guess the Good Lord was keeping an eye on me. Just as I started down the hill, a squirrel ran across the road. He started, then stopped, then went back. You know how squirrels are. Anyways, I hit the brakes. Well, my foot went right down to the floor. No brakes at all. I pumped 'em a few times. Nothing.”

  Eula shifted in the chair, getting into her story. "Now, you know I've always thought those people in movies were pretty dumb. When that happens to them, no matter how steep or curvy the road or what might be ahead, they always try to steer down the road.

  “Well, I said to myself, I don't want to plow out onto that highway—or into the lake, and I'm only going faster all the time. So, I hit the emergency brake and steered off the road for the softest spot I could find. Ran into a cedar tree.”

  Crystal grimaced. "And your head?”

  "Well, I hit the tree a little too hard and banged my head on the steering wheel.” Her look turned more defiant than defensive. "No, I didn't have my seat belt on.”

  "I wasn't going to ask.”

  "Yeah.”

  "No. I knew you didn't. Nana, you really should set a better example for me.”

  "If I race back and forth to Dallas, I'll be sure to wear one. They irritate my bosoms.”

  "That's just an excuse. What did the doctor say about your head?”

  "Doctor?” She jerked her hand in disgust. "I bumped my head; I didn't break a leg. If I went to the doctor for every bump and scrape, I wouldn't have a place to live. Doctor'd own it. And would've retired long ago. Probably on my Park.”

  Eula was too young to have been a pioneer, but Crystal knew her grandmother was clearly from independent, pioneer stock. "What did the sheriff say?”

  "Why, he pitched a fit. Threatened to give me a ticket. I said no ol' Billy Goat's gonna give me a ticket ‘less I hit somebody. Did the cedar tree file a complaint?”

  Crystal shook her head. "It's a wonder he didn't take you to jail. What else did he say?”

  "That I didn't have any brake fluid and that's why my brakes didn't work. Shows what he knows.”

  Sometimes Nana seems to be going through her teenage years again, Crystal thought. But she said, "Did he check the brake fluid?”

  "Yes.”

  "And?”

  "There wasn't any. And that's my point. There should ‘a been. You know I check those things all the time. It was full last time I checked. And I don't have a leak. I never have to add fluid.”

  "But there wasn't any fluid in it today?”

  "No. But don't you see? Remember what I told you a couple of days ago. Someone's trying to kill me. Someone tampered with ‘em. Leaked it all out. Didn't work when they tried to run me off the road, so they tried messing with my brakes. That didn't work either.”

  Crystal sighed. Her grandmother truly believed someone was trying to kill her. Was this a sign or symptom of a serious problem? But usually, Nana's mind seems so clear.

  For a long time they rocked quietly, enjoying the day. The sun slid behind a stand of tall pines until the entire porch rested in shade. A light breeze drifted up through the trees from the lake, carrying a slight hint of honeysuckle. Crystal knew it would be blistering hot in Dallas. But here, with the water and the trees it was just pleasantly warm.

  Her mind flooded with happy memories of summers long past—sitting in the porch swing, listening to the woodpeckers, or watching the big, arrogant crows prancing around like they owned the place.

  Today, half a dozen squirrels were playing tag at the edge of the grass. Brilliant cardinals shared a feeding platform with a goldfinch. A brown-headed nuthatch was sampling sunflower seeds at another feeder. And darting here and there, hovering and squeaking, were the hummingbirds. They flitted about too fast for Crystal to count.

  Nana was right. Why would she want to leave The Park?

  #

  Over dinner, Crystal asked, “Why do you think someone is trying to kill you? Has anyone made any threats or said anything about killing you?"

  "No. Person'd be a fool to come right out and say it."

/>   "Has anyone hinted at it? Or acted hostile toward you? Do you have someone in mind?"

  "No. Who’d want to kill an old lady like me?"

  "Then, why do you keep saying someone is?"

  "‘Cause they are.” She looked at her granddaughter and shook her head. “Seems pretty obvious to me. First, a bum tries to run me off the road. Now, some skunk messes with my brakes. What would you call it?"

  "A reckless driver and a leak in the brake fluid line. Where’s your car now?"

  "Billy Goat had it towed to the Possum Stop in Nickel. You can run me down to get it in the morning."

  "Could we get it now? I hadn't planned to spend the night.” Crystal saw the disappointment in her grandmother's eyes and quickly added, "Unless you were really hurt."

  "Can't. Possum closed at six. Tubs’ll open it up at seven in the morning.”

  Crystal’s mind pictured the mechanic, slender as asparagus. “Nana, why do they call him Tubs? I’ve never seen an extra ounce on that man.”

  Eula giggled. “Ain’t that the truth? Hardly casts a shadow. But when he was in grade school, he was a real porker. Everybody started calling him Tubby, then Tubs. Time he got out of high school, he’d grown a foot taller and just stretched the same pounds a lot farther. But everybody’d called him Tubs for so long, it just stuck.” She paused to drink some tea. “We can go early in the morning. You're just going to have to spend the night with your grandmother. What’s happening with you and Dud?"

  “Doug.”

  “Doug, Dud. What’s happening?”

  Crystal got up and began stacking dishes. She did not want to talk about her “boyfriends”, as Eula liked to call them. “Oh, we go out occasionally. Nothing too serious.”

  “Wasting your time there. Not going anywhere. Got anybody else on the string?”

  Crystal resisted the impulse to agree, deciding it best not to answer at all.

  “Thought not. I’m thinking maybe ‘cause you lost your father when you was just seven, then your grandfather checks out, you might just think the men in your life will disappear on you.”

  Crystal continued clearing the table and said nothing.

  “‘Course, I also think something happened at Stanford. Don’t know what. And you sure ain’t telling.” Eula gathered up the glasses. “But something did. I could tell soon as you got back. You were different. Not as sure of yourself.”

  Crystal almost dropped the stack of dishes she was loading into the dishwasher. She had never mentioned the problem at Stanford to Nana. Never hinted at it. In fact, she’d never talked about it with anybody before Brandi pried it out of her the other night. Was she sorry she’d talked about it with Brandi?

  Chapter 6

  THE next morning, Crystal and her grandmother pulled into the Possum Stop at 7:20.

  "Couldn't find no problem with the brakes, 'cept they was dry. No leaks, no holes, no loose fittings. Just no fluid. I filled ‘er up and it's ready to go.”

  Tubs had worked on Eula's cars for years and Crystal had always felt he did a competent job.

  "What would cause that?” Crystal asked.

  "Well," Tubs scratched his ear. "A real slow leak that I mightn't find, that could take a long time to run low.” He sucked on his teeth. "That's about it."

  "Or somebody lettin’ it out.” Eula said it half under her breath, but the tone was clear.

  Tubs looked sheepishly at Eula. "Yes ma'am. That'd do it."

  "Did you see any evidence of tampering with the system?” Crystal asked.

  "No, ma'am. But that might be purty hard. Eula run over a lot of brush and stuff. So if'n somebody messed with it, not likely I'd know. 'Course, I wasn't lookin' for that. And now, well, there'd be my workin' on it.”

  Crystal decided to be direct. "Let's assume for a minute that someone did tamper with the brakes. Can you think of anyone who would want to cause Nana to have an accident?”

  Tubs studied his grease-covered boots for several seconds. When he looked up, he said, "Well, Eula does talk purty blunt to folks sometimes. But I can't rightly say I know anybody what don't like her.”

  #

  Crystal followed her grandmother back to The Park, gave her a long hug good-bye, and started the drive to Dallas. Her thoughts turned to the events of the last three days. Perhaps the first incident could be dismissed. A lot of drivers had their minds on other things, and it took only a moment of lost concentration to wander across the center stripe. Maybe the guy was dialing his cell phone. Or texting.

  But this brake business bothered her. Nana really is good about taking care of her car. Always has been. Of course, brake failures can come on without warning. But then, Tubs didn’t find any evidence of a sudden failure. Or anybody tampering with it.

  Crystal became aware that she was grinding her teeth. She took several deep breaths and rolled her shoulders to ease the tension. Nana lives in the middle of her Park, she told herself. She doesn't see that many people often enough to make an enemy. Had to be a leak.

  Chapter 7

  AT Intelligent Retrieval Systems, Mark replaced the phone in its cradle and looked up to see Crystal standing in the doorway. “You look a little more relaxed today,” he said, motioning her in. "Everything Okay?”

  Crystal filled him in on the accident, Eula's reaction to it, the sheriff's opinion, and Tubs' comments.

  "So, what do you think?” he asked when she finished.

  "Spoiled food, not poison.”

  Mark raised his eyebrows. “Spoiled food?”

  “What I mean is, the incidents were carelessness, not an overt act to kill Nana. Why would anyone want to kill my grandmother?”

  "I can't imagine. But she doesn't sound like the paranoid type to me.” Mark shifted in his chair, indicating a change of subjects. "You'll be glad to know your new RAID system came in yesterday. In fact, I think Bobby Don already has it on your LAN.”

  Crystal had been anxiously awaiting the RAID, or Redundant Array of Inexpensive Disks, for several weeks. This particular RAID could store twenty trillion characters of data, roughly the equivalent of more than twenty million novels.

  "Terrific. I think we'll be ready to load and test the full Department of Public Safety database starting Monday.” She looked a little sheepish and her enthusiasm turned to embarrassment. “We’re not going to make this week.”

  Sally Pampson stuck her head in the doorway. "Hi. You wanted to see me?”

  "Yeah, come on in.” Mark turned back to Crystal. "Glad your grandmother wasn't hurt. Better stay in touch, though. See how her paranoia goes. Let me know how the new RAID works. And when the data is loaded.”

  #

  Mark got up and closed the door after Crystal left, then turned to Sally. "Just wanted to know how JT was working out.” JT Gonzales had come to work for IRS only five months ago. Sally had supervised her the entire time. "You're still behind your projection for the history/folklore project. Is that you, JT, or someone else on your team? Or some mix of those?”

  Sally, thirty-seven and slightly overweight, relaxed in one of the easy chairs in the conference area of Mark's office. Her brown hair was short and permed so that she could, as she put it, just run her fingers through it in the morning and it was combed. "Actually, maybe a mix of JT and the project. Everything was sailing along until we got into the testing phase. Then she slowed to a crawl. I don't know whether it was because our methods were new to her or what. She was really zipping along before. But a couple of weeks ago, POW. Like she hit a brick wall. Progress just stopped.

  “Good news is, she’s moving again. Maybe something was going on in her personal life. I don’t know. She doesn’t talk much—like I do. But for a week, she snailed along at about quarter speed.”

  "How's the testing going now?”

  "Great. With Rod's handy-dandy book reader, we’ve scanned in over eighty-thousand pages and we've spot-checked a good bit of that already. ‘Course, there’ve been a few glitches we’ve had to iron out. We’re getting there.
In fact, we’re ready to scan in the rest of the material.”

  Mark nodded a few times. “And Rod's machine has helped?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Rod Tucker was Mark's best friend and a top-notch mechanical engineer. A product of Texas A & M, Rod could convert almost any idea into hardware. While he didn’t work for IRS, Rod believed helping a friend was the most important thing a person could do. In this case, he had made a device that automated the scanning of books into a computer. Load twenty to thirty books into the machine and it would process them with no further human intervention.

  That was only part of the solution. Intelligent Retrieval Systems’ software did the hard part - making all that information easily and quickly accessible. Sally’s project would allow people to research Texas history and folklore thousands of times faster than they could without this new program.

  "So, the project's back up to speed, if running a bit behind.” Mark made it a statement, but Sally recognized it for the question it was.

  "Yeah.” Her hazel eyes twinkled. “Speedy Gonzales and Pampson on the move. We'll be ready for the big hoedown. I’ve got some examples I think will wow them.”

  "Great. The deep pockets will appreciate that. So will I.”

  “Guess I’d better get hopping before anything else slows us down.”

  Chapter 8

  OVER dinner with Brandi, Crystal had recounted her visit with Eula. Now they relaxed in the living room. “The thing is, Nana has always kept her cars in good shape. As far back as I can remember, she would check everything: oil, radiator, transmission fluid, and . . .” She paused and raised a finger. “Brake fluid. It’s Nana, not some service station man, who tells me I need to replace a fan belt or something.” She shook her head. “It’s hard to imagine her car slowly losing its brake fluid and her not noticing it.”

  “How easily can you imagine someone trying to kill your grandmother?”

  Crystal tilted her head to one side. “I can’t. That’s what makes this so puzzling.”