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a lever and swung open the bookcases, revealing a glass-encased gun cabinet. Twenty rifles and several pistols hung in the cabinet. Flintlocks, matchlocks, early Winchesters with octagon barrels, and Colt pistols with gold inlay and ivory grips.

“The shotguns are in that one, over there,” Harriet said and pointed to a matching cabinet across the room. “He loved them guns. Used to clean and oil them twice a year. He had it on his calendar. He had histories of every gun. You might enjoy readin’ bout your family in all the wars, Mr. Zack.”

“What we’re looking for are files, Miss Harriet. More recent.” Bob said.

“I know. Follow me.”

She led them to the back of the room and opened a walnut door to the elevator. It held four. She, Gabe, Bob, and Zack entered. Harriet took the lever, which had three floors marked. She smiled, pulled the handle, and shoved it counterclockwise to an unmarked position. The old elevator jarred and then with a loud grind lowered them to the basement.

“There was tunnels. When the Yankees come, my people used the tunnels to escape. When old General Sherman got here the place was empty, and he just moved in. For some reason he didn’t burn it like he did Atlanta.” The elevator cage stopped. She swung open the door with a loud creak. Rotting Romex wiring hung from the ceiling connecting a number of bare bulbs. She found a switch and rotated it, turning on the lights. “There’s boxes and stuff in that room,” she said. “I don’t got no key, so you’ll have to break the lock. We was never allowed in there.”

The hasp was ancient, the lock new. “We have a warrant, Zack, but it would still be better if you want to do the honors,” Bob said, picking up a crowbar from a tool pile and handing it to Zack.

The lock held. The hasp snapped. The door swung open on its own. Zack stepped in and found another of the round light switches. Stone walls, more cracked white Romex wiring, large clear glass filament bulbs, chests and crates covered in cracked and peeling leather, and two new, four-drawer metal filing cabinets with built-in locks. Behind them, the elevator ground to a stop, and the cage door creaked open. Carol, Mickey, and Harriet joined them.

“Any idea where the keys to those might be?” Bob asked.

“I saw four new keys in his desk. Give me a minute,” Harriet answered. She went back to the elevator, and it creaked its way back up to the main floor.

As they waited Gabe found an ancient leather-bound Bible and gently opened it. On the first pages was the Peterson family tree going back well before the Civil War. Harriet’s ancestors were listed as stout branches of that two-centuries-old oak. “Zack, you need to see this.” Gabe handed him the century-old book. Gabe had found a chair, and his crutches were propped in a corner.

“No wonder they kept this locked up. My mother would have had kittens.”

“What is it?” Mickey asked.

“Miss Harriet is a lot more family than any of us knew. This explains why she and her mother stayed.”

The elevator landed. Harriet held up a ring of keys. “Let’s see what secrets these unlock.”

Bob found the right keys and opened the first file cabinet. He and Gabe recognized names on the files from the list of guests booked on the cruise with Bo Bodine. As they opened the files, photos that would have ruined careers fell to the floor. Records of compromised construction bids and worse emerged. Bob handed a file to Gabe and sadly shook his head, “This should be good.” The name on the file was Brady.

“So they had something on him, and he tried to stop them anyway,” Gabe said. “That’s what got him killed.”

As Bob thumbed through the drawer another name jumped out at him. Jim Phillips, what are you doing in here? Saying nothing, Bob removed the file and set it to the side.

“Peterson must have had quite an intel network to collect all this dirt. Looks like he kept everything. He could have destroyed state highway departments in half the southern states with this stuff.” Bob said after examining several more files. “It’s worse than we ever imagined. The stuff in that Pelican case was just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Anything about my dad?” Zack asked.

“No. Your dad must have been one of the good guys.”

“There are more answers here than we had questions,” Gabe added. “It’s going to take time to figure this out.”

“Miss Harriet, I’ve got something here you need to see,” Zack said. Mickey nodded her approval and smiled up at him. Zack held up the old Bible and waited for her to step into the light. “Put on your readers, Miss Harriet. You’re going to like this. This place is as much yours as it was his or mine,” Zack told her.

“How can that be?” The old woman asked.

“It has to be true,” Zack assured her. “It’s in the Bible.”

Carol stepped up beside Gabe and took his arm. “Is it over? Can Charlie finally rest in peace?”

“Almost,” Gabe answered and gave her a reassuring hug. “Almost.”

CHAPTER 38

Gabe’s phone chimed again as they were walking back to the cruiser.

“Jones? This is Wyatt Bodine. We need to talk.”

Gabe stared at the phone in amazement. After nearly killing all five of us Bodine must be certifiable to want to meet face to face. “Okay, when and where?”

“You’re at Peterson’s. I’m almost there. Only you. I don’t like crowds.”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Gabe said to Bob. “That was Wyatt Bodine. He wants a parley, just the two of us.”

“No way. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I can throw that barge,” Bob said.

“I’ve got the radio,” Gabe answered. “I want to hear what he wants. It’s got to be interesting.”

“Okay, I’ll call for backup. Carol can come with me. Let’s get him,” Bob said.

“Good. Thanks.”

“Gabe, are you sure?” Carol asked.

“Nothing to lose. Let’s hear

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