Money Land: A James Pruett Mystery (Volume Two) by R.S. Guthrie

Author:R.S. Guthrie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cartel, thriller action, police detectives, murder and mystery

Keil Shriver’s eyes were closed, though he had been coherent enough to hear the sheriff knocking on the door before, earlier. He was also bound, naked, covered in red gashes and crimson splotching where he’d been punched many times, and gagged so he could not answer.

“We’re not quite finished here,” Omar told him. “I feel like talking and resting. You are a strong man—like your cousins, no? Not so strong inside, though—it is from there I have always measured a man or woman.

“I pondered whether to come here to speak with you at all, can you imagine that? Nearly my second terrible mistake. You see, Keil, I am a purveyor of men—I study them, find their weaknesses, their fears—and then I become an exploiter of those treasures which I find. I am not an investigator by trade. But when I saw your name on the list along with the Purdy man—you taking horses into the mountains—I was certain I had put together the plan.”

Omar noticed the surprise on his captive’s face.

“Oh yes, your friend Durden, he told me everything before he died. Well, except the—what you call it? Crisscross? No, no—double-cross—you people, so unlike mine. None of you can be trusted. Tim’s Rachel betrays him, both physically and with the money; Durden turns to Illson and Purdy, who of course need their good friend Keil to get horses and take them in and out of the wilderness to capture their own fortune. But you? The final betrayer. Maybe this is fitting as you may very likely be the last in this sordid web of lying and stealing and murdering that I myself will have to kill—”

Shriver began begging—or trying to through his gag—but the sounds only made Omar smile. “I believe I will let Rachel live. Of you all, I still feel she should suffer the most. Does that make any sense to you? I told you before, during our talks, how taken I was by her boyfriend—by Tim.

“Do you know what I will be doing with the rest of my life, Keil? It may help you as you go on to whatever comes next after this life to hear that I am going to find my son—my boy whom I’ve not contacted in years—and I am going to embrace him, and cry, and I am going to pray that he loves me and forgives me and I am going to ask him if he would like to learn how to build ships.

“Years before the army and the cartel I did know a craft. I would like to retire in southern Mexico, South America, or even the Caribbean, and build ships with my son. Boats we could sell to the fishermen and rent out to tourists. Boats in which we could go out when we like and fish ourselves.”

Omar looked at Keil, motionless, without the ability any longer to make noises. Perhaps dead already. Omar stopped cleaning and sharpening the bayonet knife. “This, Keil—this hopeful future—it makes me happy. So does this.

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