“No.”
“The ethical thing would have been to call the police and notify the landowner.”
“It’s very unlikely the landowner would have been able to profit off the find. Have you heard of the Archaeological Resources Protection Act?”
Luke shook his head.
“It passed in 1979. Anything deemed an archeological resource, and the Confederate gold certainly qualifies, belongs to the government.”
“Then why didn’t you turn it over to the government?”
“That question is harder to answer.”
“Answer it.”
“The gold was the most precious thing any of us had seen in our lifetimes. And Ed and I had found it. We’d found ... a miracle, through our own efforts.”
He wanted to tell Robbie he’d been an idiot for stealing the gold. But after all the cars Luke had stolen, saying so would make him a hypocrite.
“Ed was open to the idea of turning the find over to the authorities,” Robbie said. “Carla and I weren’t. At least, not in that moment. We decided to give ourselves time to think. There was nothing we could do with it that night anyway. Gold is heavy. We didn’t have the means to transport it all. We covered the area with dirt and made plans to come back the following night with wheelbarrows and supplies, then split it three ways between us. We vowed not to tell anyone else.”
“But Carla must have told at least one of her brothers.”
“After hearing what occurred last night, I’m afraid that’s true.”
Luke’s brow knitted. “The day after the gold was found, Carla was killed.”
Robbie’s mouth formed a thin line.
“I don’t believe that Ed accidentally shot her while cleaning her gun,” Luke said. “How did she die?”
“I’m not willing to say.”
“But youwilltell Finley when she wakes up.” It was an order, not a request. “She deserves to know.”
Robbie paused. “If Finley wants to know, I’ll tell her. But her alone.”
“Who have you told about the gold?” Luke asked.
“No one.”
“Not even June?”
“No. No one knows.”
“I’m guessing the gold Finley and I found last night was Ed’s share.”
“Yes. Have the police arrested Carla’s brothers?” Robbie asked.
“I don’t know. If not, I’m going to do my best to make sure that happens.” Robbie was Finley’s next of kin. His opinions and wishes would hold weight with the police and the DA. “If the detectives call you, I need for you to tell them that you think I’minnocent—because I am. And that the statement I gave them is accurate—because it is.”
“All right. Whatever you might think of me, Luke,” Robbie said sadly, “I do love my niece. I want her best.”
After exchanging phone numbers and parting from Robbie, Luke drove in the direction of Carla’s hometown.
He hadn’t been able to breathe well when he’d been inside Finley’s ICU room. But being away from her was five times worse. He needed to get back to the hospital. Soon. But he had a stop to make first.
Forty minutes later, Luke parked a few feet from the window-lined front wall of the business Ken Vance owned. The brightly lit interior of the Feed Supply Company revealed customers milling around inside. A man Luke recognized as the same one who’d pushed Finley last night sat behind the register.
