Coming Home (40 page)

Jeb got the men started. It was decided that before tearing down the old well house that they'd go ahead and use the backhoe Don had brought and dig out for the new foundation. They could get it dug and poured today and worry about demolition of the old well house while the new foundation was setting up. Jeb watched them for a while, hoping the sound of the big equipment wouldn't bother Roxanne. Concerned about her, after a minute or two, Jeb left the two men at it and walked back inside. Finding her lying limply on the bed, he sank down beside her and felt her forehead with his hand.

“It's not my forehead,” she said grumpily, “that's sick. It's my stomach.”

“That's why it's called stomach flu,” Jeb teased, brushing her hair back from her brow. “Feel pretty bad?'

She made a face. “Awful, but I feel even worse that I'm making your time off miserable.”

“Better or worse, remember?” he said softly, his eyes full of love.

She smiled and kissed his hand. “Better or worse.” They both heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. “Expecting company?” Jeb asked.

“Not me.”

He got up and walked into the bathroom to look out the window that faced the front. His face grim, he came back into the bedroom. “Milo Scott,” he said.

Roxanne grimaced. “At least we know why he's so interested in what we're doing.”

“Yeah, but I think it's time I run him off for good and let him know that his company isn't welcome here anymore.” He cocked his brow at her. “You mind?”

“Be my guest.”

Chapter
19

T
he more Roxanne considered it the more she didn't like the idea of Jeb confronting Milo. She wasn't afraid anything would happen, but she decided that she'd feel better about it if she were there to make certain that Milo didn't start trouble. Not, she reminded herself as she levered up out of bed, that Jeb couldn't handle the situation just fine. He could. But Milo might need to know that Jeb wasn't acting solely on his own. That she concurred with his actions. She wouldn't put it past the little weasel to come back and try to inveigle his way into her good graces. Better he find out right now that she and Jeb were in this together.

She staggered to the bathroom, stuck her tongue out at her pale features, and threw cold water in her face. She dragged a comb through her hair, pinched her cheeks, and straightened her clothes. God! She felt like death warmed over.

Hoping she wouldn't embarrass herself by falling in a faint at Jeb's feet, she wandered outside. Milo's truck was parked next to the truck and trailer that Don Bean had hauled the backhoe on. Milo was standing near the well house, Jeb right beside him. So far, it looked to Roxanne as if the conversation had been amiable.

Jeb spotted her and frowned. He stalked over to her and demanded, “What are you doing out here? You're sick.”

“I thought maybe you could use a little moral support,” she muttered. “Milo can be awfully hard to convince sometimes—especially if he doesn't want to be.” She smiled at him. “United front and all that. I think he needs to see that I'm 100% behind you in this—that it isn't just your idea.”

Jeb nodded. “OK. I'll accept that.”

She looked in Milo's direction. “He give any reason for being here?”

Jeb smiled grimly. “Oh, yeah, said he heard in town that Don was working here and drove out to see if he needed any help. Real Samaritan our Scott.”

They joined the others. Don Bean was operating the backhoe, Profane standing nearby with a shovel to clean out any dirt left behind by the big shovel. Milo Scott was off to the side watching.

It was amazing the amount of work machinery can accomplish. The original well house had been about three-by-four. It was adequate, but left very little room to work on the pump should the need arrive. Don had suggested that the new building be expanded to “sixby-eight” and Roxanne had agreed. The backhoe was making short work of digging the foundation trenches and Roxanne stared at wide swathes the shovel had already made around the building. There were only a couple of feet more of shaley clay soil to be dug out on the south side of the small building before the trenches were done.

It would have been hard for Jeb to have any sort of a conversation, friendly or otherwise, with Milo over the noise of the backhoe and so he bided his time.

After nodding curtly to Milo, Roxanne walked around to stand in front of the backhoe, near one of the small piles of dirt scattered around the perimeter. The ease with which the machinery accomplished a job that would ordinarily have taken a man with a shovel several hours of hard backbreaking work fascinated her. She watched mesmerized as the big shovel bit down into the earth right on top of a wispy little pine tree and scooped up the pine along with a wheelbarrow or more of dirt and then dropped it on the nearby pile. Amazing, she thought. Just amazing.

She was so riveted by the action of the backhoe that when the metal box fell out of the shovel and onto the pile of dirt she didn't realize what it was. She stared at the rectangular shape and then it hit her.

She yelled and scrambled over to the pile of dirt. “Jeb! We found it! We found it!”

Scrabbling around in the dirt, she pulled out the rusty metal box. “It was the pine tree,” she said excitedly. “He buried it near the well house and then had to have planted that little pine tree to mark the exact spot.”

Everyone heard her shout. Don Bean stopped the backhoe and climbed down. Profane, shovel still in hand, ambled over. Jeb was at Roxanne's side in two swift strides. Only Milo hung back.

Jeb took the box from Roxanne. “Well, well, well,” he said, “I wonder what we have here.” He cut his eyes over to where Milo stood stiffly. “You got any ideas?”

“Hey, don't look at me,” Milo said, raising up his hands defensively. “Your wife found it. Maybe she knows.”

“You think maybe it's what you were looking for in the greenhouses?” Don asked with a frown.

“I wouldn't be surprised,” Jeb replied, examining the box. It was small, but not so small that it couldn't comfortably hold the amount of drugs and money Dirk was reputed to have stolen. A cheap lock hung from the clasp.

Taking his cell phone from his belt, his gaze on Milo Scott, he called the office. It only took him a couple of minutes to explain the purpose of the call.

His call finished, he put away the phone and glanced over at Milo. “If this holds what I think it does, our mystery is solved. Guess there won't be any reason for you to keep hanging around anymore, will there?”

Milo's face was hard. “Don't know what you're talking about. I only came out here as a friend of Roxanne's.”

'Wrong,” said Roxanne. “I warned you right from the get-go that we weren't that good of friends. I think you ought to get in your truck and mosey on down the road.”

“And don't come back,” Jeb growled, a threat in his voice.

Milo hesitated and Roxanne said firmly, “That goes double for me, Milo.”

As if to emphasize Roxanne's words, Don Bean formed a fist in one big hand and rubbed it in the other. Profane stepped up beside him, the shovel held at an unfriendly angle. Milo looked at the four of them lined up against him and calculated his odds. Not good.

Jeb could see Milo turning over the situation in his mind. It must be killing him to know that Dirk's stash had indeed been hidden on the property and that he had missed it. The property and buildings had been searched and re-searched and even Jeb had decided that Dirk must have hidden the money and drugs somewhere else. But he hadn't. Dirk had buried it right here. The spot marked as Roxanne said by the well house and that straggling little pine tree.

Knowing he didn't have a chance in hell of getting his hands on the drugs and money, Milo shrugged. “OK. Fine. I know when I'm not wanted.” He swung around and headed for his truck.

“Make sure you tell the people you work for that there's no reason to keep looking. You can tell them from me that everything is safely in the hands of the law,” Jeb called out.

Don Bean burst out in a loud laugh. “Yeah, and I'm a witness.”

“Goddamn right,” added Profane. “We're all goddamn witnesses.”

“Think I'll go put on another pot of coffee,” Roxanne said. “Anyone else ready for a cup?”

The three men followed her into the house and soon they were gathered around the kitchen table, drinking coffee.

Profane eyed the metal box. “You gonna open the goddamn thing? Let us see what the fuck we dug up. It's only fair.”

It was against procedure but Jeb decided that Profane had a point. He made short work of the lock, flipped open the lid. In silence they all stared inside the box … the
empty
box.

It was Profane who said it all. “Goddammit! The damn thing is empty! We've been tricked. Who in the hell would take the time to hide and bury a goddamn
empty
box? Why the fuck was Milo so damned interested in it?”

Jeb rubbed his chin. “I think that old Dirk fooled all of us—including Milo Scott.”

Profane muttered something exceedingly profane under his breath.

“Maybe it's the wrong box,” Roxanne said slowly. “Maybe he had more than one hiding place.”

“He could have, but I doubt it. He obviously hid this box for some reason.”

“What's supposed to have been in the box?” Don. Bean asked, his pale blue eyes fixed on Jeb's face.

Jeb grimaced. He should just tell Don that this was an official inquiry and he wasn't at liberty to comment, but an idea was taking shape in his brain. Milo believed that they'd found the money and drugs. Milo was probably even now letting the drug lords in Oakland know that fact. If there was ever a hint that Dirk's stash
hadn't
been found, Roxanne's place would again become the focus of some not-very-nice people. So why disillusion them?

He glanced across from Don and Profane and made a decision. “How,” he asked lightly, “would you two like to be part of a scam? But you have to swear never to mention to a soul what we did.”

Don leaned back in his chair, his eyes dancing. “Something to do with Milo Scott thinking that we found more than an empty box?”

Jeb nodded.

“Sure, why not?” Don replied, a grin spreading across his big face. “What did you have in mind?”

“Me, too,” exclaimed Profane. “Won't say a word to nobody.”

“Milo Scott thinks that we've just found money and drugs, hidden by Dirk before he was shot in Oakland,” Jeb began. “So why not make that a fact?”

Roxanne frowned. “But it was a lot of drugs and money. I'd be willing to throw in a little cash, but not thousands. And where would we get any drugs?”

Profane blushed and coughed. “Uh, I might have a little weed in the truck.” He shot Jeb a nervous look. “Urn, I just use it for medicinal purposes, you know.” Jeb shook his head and put up his hand. “Don't tell me any more. Just go get it.”

As Profane disappeared out the door, Jeb said to the other two, “We don't need to bankrupt ourselves—a couple of hundred dollars should do it.”

Roxanne ran to get her purse and riffling through her cash counted out about a hundred dollars in small bills. When she came back to the kitchen, Profane was handing Jeb a little plastic bag with loose marijuana in it. Jeb gently placed it in the empty box.

Roxanne gave Jeb the cash. He checked his wallet and added another hundred. Looked across at Don. “You with us?”

Good-naturedly Don counted out about seventy-five dollars. “Getting to be an expensive scam,” he commented mildly.

“But it ought to do the trick,” Jeb answered with a grin. “The box you dug up and Scott saw now holds money and drugs—which is all we care about Scott knowing.” He glanced at Don and Profane. “Of course, it might help if you two started the valley gossip going about how much money and drugs were found in the box.”

Profane and Don grinned. “Be our pleasure,” Don said, chuckling. “A real pleasure.”

“So what do we do now?” Roxanne asked.

Jeb smiled. “We wait for the nice officer on duty to come and pick it up from me.”

The men returned to their work and Roxanne did a few housewifely things, her thoughts on their “find.” What had happened to Dirk's real stash? she wondered as she put the cups in the dishwasher. Had he spent it all before he'd been murdered? Or was it still buried somewhere on her property? She didn't really care—it was now something she no longer had to worry about—or continued “visits” by Milo Scott.

Don and Profane were thrilled and excited about their part in the scam and Roxanne knew that by this evening the news of the “find” would be all over the valley. Not such a bad thing, she thought, as she watched the two men leave to continue work. With Milo thinking that the drugs and money had been found and Don and Profane confirming it for all and sundry they shouldn't have any more break-ins.

Jeb came up and kissed the back of her neck. “You OK?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded. “A little woozy but I think I'll live—barely.” She glanced back at him. “What do you think happened to Dirk's real stash?”

Jeb shrugged. “A couple of things occurred to me. I don't think that the people who were after Dirk underestimated by much the value of what he pilfered. If we go with that idea, it means that Dirk either disposed of it all before he was killed or that the money and drugs are still out there buried or hidden somewhere that we haven't discovered yet.” He grimaced. “We can't even be sure that he ever hid the stuff on the property. Hell, for all we know, he had a safety deposit box that no one here knows about.” He rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. “Or, and this isn't out of the realm of possibilities, someone else knew about the stash and where Dirk had hidden it and came back and dug it up and left the empty box for someone else to find—leaving the impression that Dirk had spent it all before he died.”

“Well, I vote for the theory that he spent it all before he was killed,” Roxanne said. She frowned. “But then why would he bury an empty box?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe he used the box and that place to hide lots of things and when he emptied it, he just put it back where it was. Unless the real stash turns up, we'll probably never know the truth.”