Chapter Twenty-Four
The alarm jolted Link awake. He rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand. Scrunching his eyes to focus, he scrutinized the clock face. Damn, it really read six o'clock. With a groan, Link tried to stand and found he still sat on the side of the bed. Apparently dancing used a lot of muscles he didn't use walking.
A hot shower improved his outlook on life and he hummed a tune from the night before as he sat down for breakfast.
Jason and Maggie were already in place. As soon as the blessing ended, Jason blurted, "Dad, can I sleep in my tree house tonight?"
"No, Son. Supposed to rain tonight, at least that's the weather forecast. Maybe another time."
"Can I bring my friend Anna over to see my tree house after school?"
"I suppose so, if it's all right with her parents."
Jason hit the table with his hand and hooted a laugh. When Link shot Maggie a quizzical expression, she raised her eyebrows and shrugged. She was about to speak when Jason explained.
"Anna is a grown lady, Dad. A real pretty lady, not a kid like me. I make her pictures and she likes them."
"You know, Lincoln, Professor Bennett and his wife are on sabbatical from the college. This young lady is house-sitting for them while they're away. It’s her first year to teach here, though I believe she taught at a university in Dallas for several years."
Link felt a net closing in on him. "Would this be the Anna who works with your Aunt Kathy, by any chance?" he asked his son.
"Yeah, uh, yes, sir. She knows Aunt Kathy. She's really a neat lady.” Jason gave Link’s sleeve several tugs. “Dad, she's learning me German. Listen, Wie geht es Ihnen?"
"Teaching me, not learning me, son." Link wondered if his sisters were behind this chance meeting of his son and the same unmarried woman Gwen had mentioned. "So, Professor Anna asked to see your tree house, eh?"
"Well, no. But I know she'd like to. I told her all about it. And she said it sounds special. She said she always wanted a tree house when she was a girl, so I thought she'd like to see mine."
With a resigned sigh Link said, "Sure, Jason. If you want to invite guests to look at your tree house, that's fine with me as long as Maggie says yes, too. Maybe it would be best to do that sort of thing when I'm not home, though." No need to encourage the rampant matchmaking plaguing his family.
Maggie spoke up, "Now I don't want you to think I've been letting this young sprout run wild over the neighborhood, Lincoln. You know I'm supposed to walk every day for my blood pressure and weight. Right after you moved here Jason and I went walking one evening while Miss Zimmermann worked in the Bennett's front flowerbed.”
Jason interrupted, “We talked to her about her roses, and ours.”
Maggie nodded, “Yes, that's how Jason got acquainted with her. She seems very nice."
"Dad, she said I could come by anytime." Jason held up his hand to mimic a woman's gesture, "That's how she said it, real ladylike...'Come by for a visit any time, if it's all right with your father and Mrs. Sparkman.' Kind of like a fairy queen."
Link couldn't help smiling at his son. Damn, but it was wonderful to see him so animated after the dark days before their move.
"Well, don't make a pest of yourself, Jason. People sometimes say things like that to be polite. And you know not to go into anyone's house unless Maggie or I are with you."
"We sit on the front porch swing and talk. Sometimes I help her with the weeds. She has a porch with a screen around it in the back and sometimes she gives me lemonade there for helping her." Jason gave Link's sleeve another tug. "Dad, she put the pictures I drew her on her ‘frigerator. She let me look through the window and see them. Honest, she really likes me."
"She mentioned it to me, too, Lincoln," Maggie added looking at the boy fondly. "Apparently Jason charmed her just as he does everyone."
Link pushed his chair back and stood. "Well, I've got to try charming Moses Goddard." Dropping a kiss on the top of Jason's head, he called, "Good breakfast, Maggie. See you two tonight."
When Link arrived at the Justice Center office a few minutes before eight, Goddard was already there and in an especially foul mood. Link briefed him on the information he and Eddy collected the night before. About fifteen minutes later, Eddy straggled in.
Goddard glared at him, and asked, "What the hell happened? You two tomcats look like there were rocks in the sandbox. Goddammit, Wells, can't you at least pretend to be alert?"
Eddy blushed. "Sorry, sir, I overslept. But we found out a lot about Mitzi Dunaway, yesterday."
"Yeah, yeah. That's what Dixon says, but you didn't find out who killed her yet, did you? Don't go pattin' each other on the back until this thing is solved."
Link hated to see Eddy squirm under Goddard's wrath, so he spoke up, "I'm convinced this Martinez character has something to do with her death. Will you let me follow up on him?"
Goddard's jaw clamped. Link thought somebody ought to tell the guy that habit was bad for his jaws and teeth, but he sure as hell wouldn't volunteer for that assignment. He decided the man must have smoked a cigar or pipe at one time and developed the habit of clamping the stem of the pipe or cigar in his mouth.
Goddard pointed his finger at Link, "You were sure we'd missed something in the Morrison house, too, but you didn't find anything, did you?"
"No, sir. But I'm still sure there's something there we've all missed--just as I’m sure that this Martinez guy is mixed up in this."
"Okay, but I'm warning you. We have to come up with the murderer of at least one of these two corpses soon. Dammit to hell, men, we're being pressured from all sides. We're going to find ourselves cooking meals for jail prisoners if there's no solution soon--and I'm warning you, that's gonna make me real cranky."
"We'll work our leads and get back to you." Link almost added "Chief," but caught himself in time. No use fueling that fire.
Link wished he could tell Goddard and Eddy about the compound on the riverbank, about Martinez, the other men, the dogs, and his own involvement with the DEA. He just couldn't chance it. He would have bet a lot of money on the honesty of these two--but he was unwilling to bet his very life on it. After all, Goddard was one of the few who might have known about the undercover work.
Out on the parking lot and safe from any eavesdroppers, Link stopped Eddy.
"Listen, I've got a real harebrained idea, but I need your help. Can you go back to Papa Jack's tonight and watch for this Martinez character?"
Eddy's mouth split into a wide grin and his blue eyes twinkled. "I could probably force myself." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked embarrassed. "I...uh...I sort of planned to anyway, to tell the truth." Eddy’s smile disappeared. "Say, what are you up to?"
"I can't tell you, but I think I have part of this worked out. You watch Martinez tonight for me, will you? Try to keep him at Papa Jack's."
Eddy sent Link a quizzical look. "Well, I'll try. I don't know what I can do, though, since I've never met the man."
"Just try. I realize there's nothing you can do to force him to stay there. I'll call you first thing in the morning if my theory works out."
"Huh? What makes you think I'll be home first thing in the morning? Remember, we have Saturday off this week."
Link stopped, feeling older than his years. Had he forgotten what it was like to be Eddy’s age and unattached? He remembered the way Dorothy Passons had looked at Eddy the previous evening and knew where Eddy would be.
"Right, right, so we do. Look, you call me at home by noon tomorrow, okay? If I haven't turned up, I'll leave a message for you with my housekeeper."
Eddy frowned. "If you haven't turned up? What the hell kind of talk is that, if you haven't turned up? What the hell do you mean?” He took a step toward Link. “Hey, don't try to be the Lone Ranger, Link. It never works.”
Link grinned. "I know. Even the Lone Ranger had Tonto."
“Sounds like you've got something dangerous up your sleeve. Explain."
Link shook his head. "Look, don't worry about me, just try to keep an eye on Martinez. Try to keep him at Papa Jack's as long as possible."
Still frowning, Eddy said, "Oka-a-y, but I still don't like it. I'll call you around noon."
“Okay, Tonto.”
Link watched Eddy drive away. They each had tasks for the day. Link worried about Eddy's warning. The only criticism he received at Dallas PD was for taking on too much alone, not working with a partner or team. In this instance, he saw no alternative. He had to work alone or not at all.
On the way to do his Lone Ranger errands, Link stopped by Vince Bertolli's office. He found Vince unlocking the front door of his office.
"Hey there, Link. I was going to call you again. Come on in and we'll talk. My secretary has a doctor's appointment, so we'll be alone for a while."
They went into Vince's office and Link sat down. Vince put coffee on to brew and sat at his desk.
“Had a court case early this morning.” He took a sheaf of papers from his briefcase.
"Maggie gave me your message, but it was late when I got home last night. What’d you find?"
"You said you had two different problems, but you were wrong. Somehow, they're tied together." Vince frowned. "You'll have to help me fit the puzzle pieces. There's dirty business here, woven in and out."
There went that prickly feeling at the back of Link’s neck. He sat up straight. "What do you mean, the two are linked together?"
"One of the clerks in the records section casually mentioned the girl who was murdered was in there, looking at these same records a couple of days before she died. So, when I went to check the tax records, I asked if anyone else had asked for the information. Same answer--Mitzi Dunaway had."
“Wow, I can’t see how she’s connected to Coy, can you?”
“No, but it gets weirder. One of those properties is just across the river from the land I just bought.”
“No way. That is weird. Sure is pretty out there. Man, I don’t know how this all ties together.”
Vince leaned forward, an earnest look on his face as he handed Link a stack of papers. "I think you had better look at these. Look at them closely."
While Link poured over the papers, Vince cleared his throat. “Um, uh, Link?”
Link lowered the papers. “Yes?”
“There’s something else, something entirely different.”
Link waited for him to continue. Good Lord, was Vince blushing? No, maybe not. Too dark-skinned to tell. He definitely looked uncomfortable about something, though. “What is it?”
“One of my clients, um, someone who wishes to remain anonymous, is very interested in the preservation of historic homes in Cartersville. Sh-this client has established the annual Cartersville Historic Preservation Grant. Seems your place is the first recipient.”
Link frowned. “What grant? I never heard of it. How could I win?”
“The client chose you. Supposedly because of the historic value of your property. You know, it being a former governor’s home, the historic marker, all that? If you have time to sign the permission paperwork, I can get the ball rolling and get the painters started while the weather is dry.”
“Sign permission papers? Yeah, right. Not a chance in hell.”
“I know what you’re thinking, but this is on the level.”
“What’s it entail?” If he didn’t trust Vince, he would be ready to deck him about now.
Vince pulled another sheaf of papers from a folder. “Here’s the list of all it provides.”
Link scanned the list, then reread it. “Man, all this would take thousands and thousands of dollars.” He shook his head. “There’s a major catch somewhere. You know what they say, if it sounds too good to be true, then it is.”
Vince looked about as comfortable as if he were sitting on a porcupine. “You can cross off anything you don’t want. Don’t worry. Everything has to be completed in keeping with the period of the house, except updating plumbing and wiring. No vinyl siding or track lights.”
So what the hell was this all about? Still, if it were on the level, he could sure use the help. And the house was the home of a nineteenth century Texas Governor. His several greats grandfather.
Link read the papers. Painting inside and out, wallpaper where appropriate, new appliances, new wiring, new plumbing, new roof, lawn service for a year.
“Cross off anything? Not likely. You think I’m crazy?” Then he remembered the way the real world worked. “Wait, do I have to open the house to visitor tours or does this obligate me in any way to the donor? Hey, would there be some weird kind of lien against the property, put the house in jeopardy?”
Vince shook his head. “Nope. It’s entirely without strings, except that the name of the donor remains secret.” He shrugged. “All you have to do is tolerate repairmen swarming over the place.”
“I can handle that.” Link flashed a smile. He felt like shouting Hallelujah. What a break. He couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Lord, I hope they’re a damn sight better at home repairs than I am.”