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“Hello again, Miz Donovan. It’s Detective Schein. I’m sorry it took so long to get back to you. Since I was already off duty, I wanted to wait and call you after I got home and had a quick bite to eat. I wanted to change clothes, too.”
BJ had waited more than forty-five damn minutes. Her time’s every bit as valuable as those fucking cops. “No problem,” she replied sweetly, or sourly, depending on how the caller perceived the tone.
Jacob asked “Where were we?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
A moment of dead air.
“Twenty-some years ago during a particularly hot summer day, three preteen boys, uh... I don’t have the file handy so I’ll just call them Tom, Dick, and Harry,” said Jacob. “Anyway, they sought excitement and adventure by exploring an abandoned farm. Not finding anything to hold their interest for long, they resumed playing catch with a baseball. When the ball was thrown to Harry he missed it by a mile. He ran off to find it. Located it in the tangled mess of weeds and tall grass surrounding an old well. Rough-hewn boards with rounded edges covered the surface. Harry noticed two of the boards weren’t flush with the others. He called his friends over. Well, boys being boys, they had to know if the boards were hiding a secret. They stacked most of them on the ground. Tom started to grab a metal ladle hanging from a hook. Changed his mind and picked up a big rock, extended his arm to the middle of the well and let go of it. The rock struck something metallic instead of water. Standing on tiptoe, leaning over the edge of the mossy stone wall, they stared in awe at the blackness below, they said. Tom was the first to suggest there might be buried treasure. Throwing caution to the wind, Dick, the slimmest and bravest of the trio grabbed hold of the well rope, swung out over the hole and wrapped his legs around the rusty bucket. Hung on tight, as Harry worked the hand crank to lower him. Tom told them to wait a minute. He ran to his bike. Dug around inside his knapsack, gripped the long handle of the flashlight hidden under the sandwiches his mama had packed for him. The sight of the food made him hungry, Tom said, but he knew he didn’t have time to eat. He shoved a candy bar in his hip pocket, and ran back to his friends. Hurry up, Dick told him. He said he didn’t know how long the old bucket could hold him. Tom handed Dick the flashlight, who in turn put it inside the bucket. Harry, more concerned about the old rope than the bucket, slowly turned the crank, resisting speeding up. A loud and steady creak frightened them just a little. Tom ate his candy bar while he had the chance. When Dick touched bottom he yelled it was a shovel they’d hit. A round of cheers went up, as the boys were convinced that meant there really was a hidden treasure. Why else would there be a shovel in a well? Right away he used the shovel to load the bucket with dirt. Harry reversed the crank. Tom emptied the dirt on the ground and inspected it for old coins and gemstones. They continued this process until a thin layer of topsoil had been removed. Sweating profusely, feeling like he might suffocate in the cramped area, Dick called for a timeout. He finished what he planned would be his last load for the time being. A few inches above Dick’s head the rusted bucket handle broke off setting the heavy bucket free. It plummeted, landing hard on its side. The skeletal remains of a human hand bounced out.”
Jacob went to the kitchen holding the cell phone to his ear.
He reached inside the refrigerator, snagged a bottle of beer. Held the bottle under his bent arm and twisted off the cap. Downed nearly half of the contents.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, breathlessly. “I was a little thirsty.”
A sense of familiarity created a sudden sense of urgency. “Hurry up,” she said, “I’m dying to know what happened next.”