Deadly Lode (Trace Brandon Book 1) (19 page)

‘
I
’
m good to go,
”
I said.
“
How about you
,
Dominic?
”

“
I think I can clear my schedule,
”
Dominic replied.
“
I
’
ll pick you up in front of
your hotel
at ten forty
-
five.
”

“
Excellent
. W
e
’
ll look forward to seeing you
both
,
”
Cyrus said,
“
a
nd thank you for a lovely evening.
”

Dominic and I watched as Cyrus escorted Lisa out of the
hotel
.

“
Well, that wasn
’
t too bad,
”
I said
,
with a smile.

“
No, it was fine,
”
Dominic
replied
.
“
Cyrus even picked up the tab.
”

“
Yep, he
’
s a major piece of work,
”
I said
,
with a laugh.
“
Could I interest you in
a night
-
cap?
”

“
I would, Trace, but I
’
m going to have a busy morning if I
’
m to make our lunch date.
”

“
No problem. I
’
m full of wine and great food
,
and I
’
m pooped. I
’
ll see you tomorrow at ten forty
-
five,
”
I said, g
i
v
ing
her a good
-
night kiss on the cheek.

“
Tomorrow it is
. S
leep well. I enjoyed you
r
company, Trace. See you in the morning.
”

The next morning Dominic picked me up
.
and we drove a short distance down Seven Mile Beach to the
y
acht
c
lub.
We parked her car and walked down the docks until we found Cyrus
’
s
slip. His boat was named the
TaxEvader
,
and she
looked sleek and fast.

“
Welcome aboard,
”
Cyrus called out.
“
We
’
re
just about to shove off.
”

Dominic and I hustled aboard
.

“
I love the name,
”
I said, grinning broadly.

“
Yeah, me too,
”
Cyrus said, squeezing my shoulder.
“
I thought it up while I was making license plates
i
n Oregon.
”

“
Income tax evasion?
”

“
You got it. I had a crooked accountant,
”
Cyrus said
,
with a laugh.
“
Can you believe it? The SOB cooks the books
,
and I go to jail.
”

“
What happened to the accountant?
”

“
Sky diving accident,
”
Cyrus replied
,
with a
wry grin
.
“
Chute didn
’
t open. Guess he couldn
’
t pack a parachute any better than he could keep books.
”

I helped Lisa cast off the lines
,
and Cyrus piloted us out of the marina. Dominic
and Lisa
went below to prepare a light lunch. I went up on the bridge with Cyrus.

“
It
’
s a hell of a nice boat, Cyrus.
”

“
Thank you. She
’
s one of a kind.
A custom
-
built
Atlantic
. Forty
-
four feet with twin three
-
hundred
-
eighty
-
horsepower engines. She
’
ll do thirty knots
,
flat out.
”

“
Impressive.
”

“
I
’
ll take her out a bit and drop anchor. We
’
ll have a hell of a view of the island while we eat
lunch
.
”

Cyrus found a good spot
and,
dropped anchor and the girls laid
out
lunch. We were enjoying
c
onch fritters and cold beer when Cyrus
’
s
cell phone went off.

“
Excuse me just a second
.
It
’
s Malcolm with Twisp River.
”

Cyrus listened but asked few questions. I could see his demeanor change during the call.

“
I
’
m
sorry all, but I
’
m going to have to
head
back in after you finish your lunch,
”
Cyrus said, closing his flip phone.
“
There
’
s been an accident. Bill Thorn
ton
, my long
-
time associate and close friend
,
has been killed. I
’
m going to have to get back to Spokane as soon as possible.
”

“
What happened, Cyrus?
”
I asked.

“
Well, I may as well tell you
, ‘
cause you
’
re going to find out in any case. Richard Rosenburg, one of the
founders
of the Vancouver shell you merged with,
s
hot and killed Thorny.
”

“
Why
would he kill Mr. Thorn
ton
?
”

“
I don
’
t have all the details, Trace. But
,
I
’
ll get to the bottom of it when I get back to Spokane.
”

With Cyrus leaving, there was little point
in me sticking around.
Although, if Dominic would
’
ve asked, I
’
d have stayed on. We
’
d developed a very good chemistry in only a few days
.
I sensed if I stuck around, we would find ourselves in a relationship.
Discretion being the better part of valor,
I packed up, said good
-
bye to Dominic, and flew back to
frozen
Spokane.

On the long flight home, I pondered why Rosenburg would
’
ve killed Thorn
ton
. In my gut
,
I knew
it had
to be connect
ed
to
the s
h
ares he owned in
Montana Creek Mining.

C
hapter
11

R
ichard Rosenburg was a long
-
time donator to the Vancouver Police Department and a close friend of the
c
hief
c
onstable.
H
is testimony and the physical evidence at the crime scene
supported his claim of self-defense in the shooting death of William Thornton.
No in
dictment was issued.

After the heat simmered down, Rosenburg called Al
Pantelli
in New Orleans.

“
Mr.
Pantelli
, this is Richard Rosenburg in Vancouver, Canada. I would like to talk to you
,
if you have a minute?
”

“
Goddamn, Rosy, you sure took care of Thorn
ton
.
”

“
He tried to steal some stock certificates from me
,
a
nd p
ulled a knife
.
I had little choice.
”

“
Uh-
h
uh
. Well
,
it
’
s water under the
freak
i
n
’
bridge. So, what can I do for you?
”

“
It concerns my debt to the Comstock Casino, Mr.
Pantelli
.
”

“
Rosy, I assigned you
r
debt to a third party, one of whom you
’
ve already drilled.
”

“
What?
Who?
”

“
I assigned it to a Cayman corporation called Carib International.
”

“
I see
,
”
Rosenburg said
,
nervously
as he grabbed
for a
pen and paper
.
“
Carib International?
”

“
Correct.
”

“
So you and I are square?
”

“
As a four
-
by
-
four. Makes me wonder
, though,
why Thorny tried to steal your cert
’
s. Hell, he could have filed a lien on any of your property and gotten the
shares
legally. He didn
’
t have to heist them.
”

“
Well
,
maybe he wasn
’
t to
o
smart
.
”

“
I guess not. He
’
s dead
.
”

“
I appreciate the heads
-
up, Mr.
Pantelli
.
”

“
It wasn
’
t a heads
-
up. It
’
s just
how it is
. One other thing, Rosy
. S
tay out of our casino. Next time you get behind
,
will be the last time you get behind.
Capisce
?
”

“
Understood, Mr.
Pantelli
,
”
Rosenburg replied, hanging up.

Rosen
b
urg put both elbows on his desk
,
interlock
ed
his fingers
,
and
rest
ed
his chin on his thumbs
.
This could be a damned dangerous situation,
he
thought
.
O
r
,
it could be a hell of an opportunity.