The Farm Book 3: Behind The Curve Read online

  “I hope not. It’s not like we have another ‘Big Red’ to do the heavy work for us anymore.”

  “I know.” Jennifer sighed, taking the bottle back. “I hope not. I think if they hadn’t gone after the Langtry farm first, they would have been able to easily roll over us.”

  “Do you really think they’re taking folks food and relocating the ones they arrest?”

  “I do,” Jennifer said, taking a swig. “Now give me another tortilla, you cow.”

  “If you weren’t my sis, I’d kick your ass,” Steff said, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was thinking about serial killers, bodies hidden in holes in the ground, her eldest sister, and her mother. She was thinking about the rumors of buried treasure. Gold and silver. It was all a big conspiracy in her mind, but she couldn’t quit thinking about it, and wondering if her daughter’s death had been linked to all of it.

  Harry returned with a shovel. Goldie just smiled as the little boy started digging. She’d recovered most of the berries he’d dropped, and had just about exhausted the patch they were picking. She put her bucket down and watched as he dug and levered at the object in the ground. She was surprised, probably as much as Harry was, when after a few shovelfuls and some levering, he popped a metal box out of the ground a few inches before it fell back in...

  “Grandma, what is that?” Harry asked, straining to lift it out of the hole.

  “That’s an old ammo can,” she told him. “Can you lift it out?”

  “There’s no handle,” he said, putting both hands around it and using his whole body to lift.

  “Don’t hurt yourself, we can always come back with your daddy,” Goldie chided.

  “I… got… it…” he was almost wheezing as the ground finally gave up the box, and Harry dropped it next to the hole.

  “Can you open it, or do you want me to?” Goldie asked.

  “Go ahead, I might puke,” Harry said, gasping.

  “Kids these days,” Goldie muttered with a grunt.

  Her hands were already dirty, so she didn’t mind brushing the clumps of dirt and clay off the rusted clasp. She was able to get it undone with some effort.

  She looked inside and gasped. “Call your daddy on the radio. Right now.”

  Three

  The market finished the day without any incident or ugliness. Everybody had been curious about what Harry and Goldie had found, but most of the group wanted to maintain their positions. Rob had radioed them once to let them know when things were wrapped up, and to meet him at the workshop. He had a couple of picnic tables set up and some cold beers ready. Goldie had promised her special lemonade.

  “What do you think?” Anna asked Angelica. “Good news or bad?”

  “It’s hard to tell. If they’re breaking out the good stuff, it could go either way,” she said.

  “Didn’t Rob tell you, like, did you go on another channel and work your womanly ways on him? Make him inappropriate offers?”

  “Of course I did,” Angelica pouted. “He said no. So, he gets the guest room tonight!”

  Steven walked up, hearing the last of that and laughed. He put an arm around Anna’s waist and pulled her to him, kissing her neck.

  “Oh, you keep doing that, we’re so going to have to skip out on the drinking,” Anna said with a small gasp.

  “Oh, hell no!” Angelica said, firing up the Kawasaki and taking off for the farm, kicking up dust clouds.

  “For a foul-mouthed hellion, she sure is embarrassed easily,” Anna said, turning to him, kissing him.

  “Everybody has their weaknesses,” he told her.

  “I haven’t found yours yet,” Anna said, pushing him back a little bit so she could separate them before things got too hot.

  “My weaknesses? I have one.”

  “Only one?” Anna asked.

  “Yup. You,” he said simply, then turned and ran to the UTV that Andrea had just fired up.

  Anna stood there for a moment, feeling the heat and love from that simple statement. She knew it was true.

  “Are you coming, or what?” Andrea called. “For some reason, Angel took off and isn’t answering the radio!”

  “Yup,” Anna yelled, running for them.

  The second gate closed behind them as they shot towards the workshop.

  Rob had a set of towels covering the find. The dirty and rusted ammo can was sitting off to the side. He’d spent two hours sorting and cleaning Harry’s find. He’d had his mom find him the polishing agent, but he’d only used it sparingly to verify what he was looking at. Angel was there first, having picked up Curt and Steven along the way. A few moments later, the other Kawasaki Mule pulled up. Everybody jumped off the back and headed inside.

  “First things first,” Goldie said, passing out paper cups of lemonade.

  “What’s under the towel?” Anna asked.

  “Is that what Harry found?” Curt asked about the ammo can.

  “Don’t make us wait, I have to pee,” Andrea said in a whiny voice.

  “Drink up,” Goldie said, tossing back a paper cup of her own.

  They did, and many of them gasped. She’d mixed the batch strong, so strong they could barely taste the lemonade. Harry and Leah laughed as the rest made faces and tried to control their reactions.

  “Wow,” Anna said, looking into her cup, “this is going to be either really good, or really bad.”

  “The lemonade?” Goldie thundered.

  “No, judging by the strength of the drink,” Anna told her soothingly.

  “Oh, well, I guess I figured you all would need to gird your loins before looking at this. Harry?”

  Harry pulled the towel away like he was a stage magician. There were what looked like stacks of coins piled on the table. Dante frowned, then moved in closer. Leah followed, before the rest of the group started piling around.

  “Oh wow,” Dante said in a quiet voice.

  “Is this what I think it is?” Curt asked, having remembered some of this from their trip to Fort Smith.

  “Yeah,” Leah said.

  “I can’t see, I can’t see,” Angelica whined.

  Rob promptly picked her up and put her on his shoulders.

  “Holy shit, is that gold?” she screamed.

  “Gold and silver. Harry found an entire ammo can full of gold and silver coins,” Rob said in a quiet voice, very unlike his normal tone.

  “I tripped over it, dad,” Harry informed him.

  “Silver?” Anna asked, and picked up a coin that had been cleaned. It shone brightly, so she held it up for the others.

  “Is it… real?” Andrea asked.

  “I’ve sorted the coins by year and type,” Rob told them. “I’m pretty sure most of the gold coins are $10 gold eagles, but it’s hard to tell without some more cleanup. Moisture has gotten into the box at one point.”

  “Gold doesn’t corrode,” Anna said helpfully.

  “Yeah, but the dirt got in with the water. I tried cleaning some of these up, but then remembered the better condition they are in, the more they’re worth. I wanted to ask you guys… I mean I needed to show you…”

  “What are the spread of years?” Dante asked, starting to go through the gold coins left to right.

  “Late 1800s through 1932 on the left most side. Then some 50s, 70s and 90s,” Rob answered.

  “Let me down,” Angelica said.

  Rob gently boosted her down and she stood at the end of the table.

  “This is a lot, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “Gold and silver? Yes,” Dante said holding one coin up. “Curt, look at this.”

  Curt walked over, looked at it, then gasped, “Um… This coin right here is worth about $1400,” he said.

  “That’s what I thought. The gold dealer in Fort Smith had one. It was one of his pricier pieces,” Dante told them.

  “Just guess,” Anna said.

  “Quarter of a million?” Dante said, shooting from the hip.

  “What?” Goldie shrieked, refilling her paper
cup quickly.

  “I mean, I’m guessing most of these gold coins here are in the $800 to $1000 dollar range. Some are more, some are less. There seems to be a lot more gold than silver, which surprises me. Everybody has silver.”

  “But gold always holds its value,” Goldie finished.

  “Dang, that’s worth a lot more than what we used to get the solar panels,” Anna said.

  “Yes,” Leah agreed, “we used up a lot of our reserves to get those, but we had a lot more silver than gold.”

  “That’s right, he wanted gold, but we were able to trade for silver too.”

  “He had a dollar figure in mind, as long as it wasn’t in paper money or plastic, he was happy with taking hard currency and precious metals.”

  “Where did you find this, honey?” Andrea asked Harry.

  “I tripped on it. I was picking berries with Grandma, and didn’t look at my feet. The tip of the box was sticking up and it tripped me into the pickers. Is this pirate booty?” Harry asked them.

  For a second, everybody was silent. Leah walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him in a big hug. She kissed the top of his head and whispered, “It’s as close as anybody is ever going to get to it, in Arkansas,” then kissed the top of his head again and mussed his hair. She looked up to see Angel had tears in her eyes, so she walked over and hugged her too. When Angel started crying, Anna pushed back from the group and joined the three of them. Andrea tried to get close, but her cane and unsteadiness made her hesitate a moment too long. They broke it off just then and turned back to the group.

  “Does anybody have a metal detector?” Angel said, sniffing.

  Turns out, nobody did. Dante fixed that within two minutes by logging onto relentless.com and ordering one of their top of the line models, along with a hand wand. He put expedited shipping on and prayed the economy would hold together as he hit the submit order button. “We do now,” Dante said.

  “Good, because where there’s one…” Steven said, his words trailing off.

  “There’s bound to be another,” Anna finished for him, and he nodded.

  “See, they’re doing it now too!” Leah said, slapping Dante on the chest.

  “We all do,” Dante told her, “We need to get these cleaned up and inventoried. Then put into somewhere for safe keeping.”

  “Good idea,” Goldie said.

  “I just realized something weird,” Rob told everyone.

  The hum of conversation stopped as Rob walked over to the steel ammo can. “They didn’t start making these until the 50s. The coins go as late as the 1990s. I’m wondering, who buried it and why? I mean, somebody buried these later on than the 1990s, I’m sure, but who? Didn’t Dewie claim the land was his inheritance and he didn’t have a ton of money so to speak?”

  “That was our impression too, or at least mine,” Curt told them, “He wanted to sell this place and have enough money to go on vacation and not feel like he was ripped off, and live out the rest of his life.”

  “Yeah, that was what we thought as well,” Leah said, noting both Steven and Anna nodding in agreement.

  “That’s the way I remember it too Hun,” Andrea said. “But if this wasn’t Dewie’s, whose would it be?”

  “His wife!” Angelica shouted. “She would have been around then. But why would she hide this from her husband?”

  “Because she’s from Lyle’s family, originally?” Andrea asked.

  “Oh shit,” somebody muttered. “Rumors of treasure? Did she find and hide a fortune?” Rob’s question wasn’t directed at anybody, but it bounced around in their heads for the rest of the evening.

  Four

  The governor was not happy. Not only had a group of federal agents in his state got tarred and feathered, it had been done in the presence of and helped by law enforcement. State police and the Sheriff’s department. Apparently the local PD hadn’t even been there when it had happened, but he was able to find out that apparently they’d had problems with the farm in the past, but they were now firmly on their side. To make matters worse, not only was the farm infamous for everything that had happened there, but two of the doctors that owned and resided there were infamous as well.

  When he’d heard about how the DA’s office had tried to set up Doctor Mallory, he’d privately cheered that the justice system had worked out right, but it also left him uneasy. How many times hadn’t it, and nobody noticed? The violent protests and riots were occurring across every major metro area by now, and the head of District 10 was always on his ass about suppressing the media. When things were happening right out in the open, and people were getting locked up in detainment camps, the news of it was barely reported, if at all.

  His intercom buzzed. “Sir, General Rodgers is here to see you.”

  “Have him come in. And Brenda, would you bring us a carafe of coffee, and something to munch on?”

  “I ordered us some donuts earlier. Would those work?”

  “Perfect,” the governor said as General Rodgers walked in. “Thanks.”

  He stood and offered his hand. General Rodgers took it and then frowned before sitting.

  “How goes the national emergency?” the governor asked.

  “Region 6 is coming along. With beef production coming from Texas, Arkansas, and Oklahoma we should be in good shape soon. Fishing in the coastal states will provide us a ton of protein as well. But there seems to be an area of region six that has become problematic and potentially a threat to national security.”

  “Let me guess, a small farm in podunk Arkansas, near the border of Oklahoma.”

  “Ah, so you’ve heard of it, and the right-wing terrorists who reside there.”

  “I don’t know about right wing terrorists, General Rodgers, but I have heard a lot of noise has leaked to the press because of events that have happened there. In part, because of what appears to be a former ADA turned activist.”

  “Winters’ actions did not result in the seven deaths of my men, that farm did, however.”

  “ADA Winters was responsible for stirring up a mob to go after Andrea Mallory. When they came in to attack, they found out that if you attack a man or woman in their home, they can fight back.”

  “With military grade weapons of war?” General Rodgers asked.

  “An AR-15 is not a weapon of war. It’s a semi-automatic. It shoots a glorified .22 magnum round, really fast. Hell, most of us use really big guns when we hunt deer. If you think an AR-15 is so hot, what would you think about them?”

  “They are not what killed my men,” General Rodgers said, getting visibly frustrated.

  “And an AR-15 is not what killed your men either,” Governor Christian snapped back. “It was an AR-10 variant that shot 7.62 or a .308. A common hunting round. The rest of your men… What, five died because they pissed off a bull, and another died from some sort of anaphylactic shock?”

  “Because he was tarred and feathered by members of law enforcement and the surrounding community.” The general smacked his hand on the governor’s desk, making papers and pens dance.

  “I thought he was allergic to shellfish? I heard directly from a deputy that what they used was axle grease, used motor oil, some kerosene, and rancid pig fat. None of that even comes close to a shellfish, does it?”

  “He died as a result of the beating, tar and feathering he received at that farm.” Spittle flew out of the general's mouth.

  Brenda poked her head in, then pushed it open with a cart. She had 12 of Dunkin’s finest as well as a white ceramic carafe of coffee.

  “There is no way of telling what killed him unless we have a full autopsy done, and so far, your men are stonewalling my office,” Governor Christen said. “And I’m no medical professional, but allergies so severe to cause anaphylactic shock to a person don’t just wait for an hour or two to suddenly manifest, do they?”

  “Are you calling my people liars?”

  “Liars, murderers, tyrants, fascists, communists, assholes? It doesn’t matter what word
I use, they all work.”

  General Rodgers got really quiet, then he leaned in, turning his head to stare at Brenda. “Get out of here,” he growled.

  Brenda got out of there in a hurry.

  “You don’t want to push me boy,” General Rodgers said, his face a rictus of rage, veins throbbing on his forehead and temples.

  “The last I heard, as governor, I still am the highest elected official in the state of Arkansas,” Governor Christian reminded him. “You are supposed to work with the governors of the state, and all I’ve had from you people is orders and push back. That is not how this is supposed to work.”

  “Guess what, you fat fuck? This is how it works. This is how I run the show, and no fucking pissant former third string football star is going to throw a wrench into these plans.”

  “Oh really,” Governor Christian said, trying not to sweat and keep his tone cocky. “Do go on.”

  “If you don’t play ball, we’ll find someone else who will,” General Rodgers said, seething.

  “Oh, just like that? You’ll have a new election and a new governor installed? It doesn’t work like that. I have to be impeached or I have to step down.”

  “Unless you have an unfortunate accident, like what happened with Sheriff Robertson, perhaps?”

  The governor screwed his face up, and then it clicked. Sheriff Robertson had just been replaced because he’d died suspiciously and in the same area as… the farm.

  “Are you threatening me?” the governor matched his tone and volume.

  “You’re damned right I am. You play along, or you and your family are going to disappear forever. Your little girl, she’s what, nine now—”

  The governor may have been a third string NFL player in a former life, but one thing he had always been on first string for was shooting. General Rodgers never got to finish that threat. From a shoulder holster, Governor Christian pulled his S&W M&P .40 and pulled the trigger twice. The first shot hit Rodgers in his left eye and exploded out the back of his head. As he fell backwards, already dead, Governor Christian fired a second round that took him under the chin.