Thursday
Agatha skipped out on her morning run. She’d slept fitfully the night before, her brain processing all the information she’d learned about the victims. She finally gave up on sleep and spent the last hours before sunrise in the war room, and she wasn’t surprised to get the early morning text from Hank. They were a lot alike when their minds started clicking, and she wasn’t surprised to find he’d spent a sleepless night as well.
She agreed to meet him and Coil for breakfast at the Kettle Café before the team briefing at the sheriff’s office. Hank was already waiting at their usual table, but Coil wasn’t there yet.
“Sleep good?” Hank asked.
“Nope,” she said. “My mind was racing all night.”
Hank held up three fingers when the waitress looked over. He’d already taken care of their drinks.
“Me either,” he said. “I figured you were in the same boat. I keep thinking about the empty coffin. I wasn’t surprised by it. If Lawrence is right about these five women and their friendship and business partnership, then it makes sense to think the nun is the key to this whole mystery. She’s the missing piece.”
“I agree,” Agatha said. “Sister Rosa Anita Immaculate was her ordained name, but I’m having trouble finding a given name. Maybe Lawrence was able to find something more on her, but my resources don’t run as deep as his do.”
“Looks like my timing is perfect,” Lawrence said from behind Agatha.
She jumped in surprise when he scooted into the booth next to her, and she gave Hank an accusing stare. He could’ve warned her.
Lawrence looked terrible. He hadn’t slept for the last forty-eight, and he was still dressed in the same canary-yellow shirt and tan trousers he’d worn the day before. And it was obvious he hadn’t showered, combed his hair, or shaved.
“What are you doing here?” Hank asked. “I thought Jakes ordered you to submit a written report and get some sleep.”
“This is too good not to share in person,” he said, and then called out the waitress. “I need coffee. Black.”
“How about you wait until everyone gets together for the briefing?” Hank suggested. “Jakes isn’t going to be happy.”
“I figured I’d relay it to you. I’m quite fond of this group. Jakes, not so much. Besides, I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to be able to stay awake, so this may be the only time I get to say it.”
“Okay,” Agatha said. “Let’s hear it.”
“Hear what?” Coil asked from behind her.
Agatha jumped. “Crud, is everybody going to sneak up on me today?”
“To be fair, they only snuck up on you because your back was to the door,” Hank said. “Good timing, Coil. Lawrence was just about to brief us.”
“But, didn’t Jakes…”
“Just sit down,” Agatha said, unable to wait any longer. “Go ahead Lawrence. And maybe scoot over a little bit.”
“I’ve discovered the identity of victim number four,” he said. “And I was right. The exotic dancer. Ruth Anne Wilkerson was her name. But get this, she might have been dancing in the evenings and carousing with her girlfriends, but in the daytime, she was the administrative assistant to the superintendent of the Texas Rangers.”
“What?” Coil asked, his eyes going wide. “I’m assuming they didn’t know of her nighttime activities.”
“Oh, I think some people knew. You don’t work the underground without coming across a few people who live on the wealthy side of the tracks. But if they told her secret they’d also be exposing their own sins. Her family was well connected and wealthy, which was how she got the job.”
“Let me guess,” Hank said. “They’re an oil family.”
“Quite right,” Lawrence said, his grin somewhat maniacal in his sleep deprived face. “It’s quite unusual if you follow the paper trail. County deeds showed an expansive plot of acreage having been redesignated from agricultural to industrial in the early part of the century. A lot of people lost their land, and the Wilkerson’s became one of the wealthiest families in the state when those oil rigs went up on their newly designated property.”
“That gives other people a reason to hate the Wilkerson’s,” Hank said, “but it doesn’t explain why Ruth Wilkerson was killed and buried in a false grave, or how millions of dollars in Confederate gold was buried with her.”
“Well, it’s not like these women were pillars of the community,” Agatha said. “Their families had money, but that would only take them so far. They struck out on their own and chose a dangerous path. A bootlegger, a madam, the speakeasy owner, and the exotic dancer joined forces and made sinning easy for the people of San Antonio. They knew who was breaking the law, cheating on their wives, and drinking away their troubles. They’d have been very powerful in their own way in the underbelly of that city. And people would be afraid. Maybe they were also blackmailers.”
“That’s a good angle,” Hank said. “Maybe some of the papers recovered can be salvaged.”
Coil put a ten down on the table to cover the coffees and tip. “Time to get to the briefing. Lawrence, I’d make myself scarce. If you show up in that office Jakes is liable to shoot you.”
“Excellent advice.”