Swains Lock

Cy looked at him with a furrowed brow and shook his head. “Ain’t no rush,” he said. “We got to wait until after dark to move the bodies anyway.” He rose from the table and gestured toward the corpses. “But we can’t leave ‘em here. Katie and Pete could walk in any minute. Let’s get ‘em down to the basement.” Lee knelt down alongside Kevin Emory’s left ankle, which was still cuffed by the leg-irons. He reached into his pocket for the key.

“Leave it on,” Cy said abruptly. “Since the bodies are staying here while you’re gone. Got to have something pointing to you as well. Keeps us both honest.” Lee looked up and squinted but left the cuff attached. He held his cousin’s ankles while Cy gripped the body by the armpits. They carried the bodies downstairs and laid them in a dark corner of the basement.

Back in the kitchen, Lee put the ledger in the box along with the pouch of coins and the refilled coin tray. He closed the cover and set the latches, then pulled out the key ring and locked the toolbox. “That was a good idea you had,” he said. “About keeping us honest. Made me think I should leave the box with you until tonight. I’ll take the key with me. That way we trust each other. And we don’t have to worry about someone else bumping into it.”

Cy put the box on top of a cabinet, where it was unlikely to be noticed right away. They walked out toward the lock, where Lee retrieved his damp clothes from the swing-beam.

“Let’s lock the scow down,” Cy said. “Get it out of the way and set us up for later.” They reset the lock, brought the scow through, and moored it to a post near the mouth of the flume. Lee led the mules across the lock and tied them up near the water. Cy peered out at the uninhabited islands in the center of the river. “Show me again where you’re thinking,” he said.

Lee pointed at the island. “There’s a huge sycamore we can use as a landmark. And flat ground next to it for digging.” They agreed that Lee would bring a second canoe down from Pe

“One more thing,” Cy said as Lee set out. “If you got one, bring a shovel.”

Chapter 24

Pe

Saturday, March 29, 1924

During Lee’s walk back to Pe

Cy. Lee still sensed that he might have had a hand in the killings. He knew that Cy owed his cousins money. And he knew that Cy’s vices – gambling and drugs – meant he might not have been able to pay. So Cy had a motive, both to steal and to cancel a debt. But the gold and silver was still in the toolbox and that didn’t make sense. Maybe Cy had come across a payback killing and scared the killer away. And then he was preparing to saw the toolbox free of the leg-irons when Lee arrived at Swains. No matter how Lee tried to construct a logical thread, it fell apart when he thought it through.

But instinct told him that Cy was dangerous. Whether or not he was involved in the murders, Cy would regard Lee as a witness who might incriminate him. Or he might worry that Lee would exhume the Emorys’ money for himself. As he assessed this possibility, Lee realized that he was the one at risk. By disposing of Lee, Cy could silence him and keep all the gold and silver. But Lee was younger, faster, strong; if he kept his guard up, he thought he could defend himself.

What if Cy returned to the burial spot by himself in the days ahead? If the money was missing when he and Cy went back for it, Lee could tell the Emory clan that Cy had been seen passing gold and silver coins. And that would mean he would have to spend the next seven months wondering when a bullet would find him from the woods along the canal. So it was in Cy’s interest to live up to his agreement with Lee. Each of them would get almost four hundred dollars of the Emorys’ money. Even for Cy, that had to be enough.

But Lee still felt anxious. Striding fast on the approach to Pe

By the time he reached Pe

As he considered how to word his message, he struggled with the many purposes it had to serve. If he was killed by Cy tonight, he wanted someone to find his body. The only person he could trust right now was Charlie Pe

If he survived and made it back to Pe

He still hoped that his cousins had been killed by enemies from their bootlegging world. If so, their deaths were a sad fate of their own making. And if Cy lived up to his word, he and Lee would split the Emorys’ silver and gold. A few hundred dollars would be a stake he could build on. He could start saving for a house. Something small in Seneca, with a view of the meadows. Would Katie like it there? Keep your focus, he scolded himself. These are the only words you can speak from your grave.