Free Blood Money (Joe Dillard Series No. 6) by Scott Pratt Page B

into either selling his land or, at the very least, pledging it as collateral so Zane could borrow enough money to get him through another year or so until the economy made a complete recovery. Roscoe’s land was also home to large stands of valuable trees: white and red oak, hickory, walnut and elm. The timber rights alone would probably be worth a hundred grand. Maybe he could talk him into selling the timber. He’d walked into his father’s house that day and found him fully clothed and fast asleep in his bed. When he reached down to wake him, Zane noticed a glow, almost a sparkle, coming from beneath the pillow where his mother’s head used to lay. He pulled the pillow up and his jaw dropped. He shook his father awake.  
    “What’s this?” Zane had demanded.
    Roscoe, bleary-eyed and groggy, sat up slowly. “What are you doing here?”
    “I said what’s this?”
    “Something I found.”
    “Where?”
    “At the end of the rainbow.”
    “Is there more?”
    “None of your business.”
    Zane had grabbed Roscoe’s shirt and shaken him: “Is there more?”
    The old man smiled and nodded: “Lots more.”
    “How much?”
    “You’ll never know.”
    “Where is it?”
    “I already told you, at the end of the rainbow.”
    Zane had threatened, harangued, pleaded, and begged, all to no avail. Roscoe refused to tell him anything. He finally left and devised a plan the next day to gain control of Roscoe’s property. The lawsuit that followed, however, had done nothing but cost Zane more money. Even the possibility of losing his freedom had failed to loosen Roscoe’s tongue.   And now, with the first hearing in front of Judge Beckett only twelve hours away, Zane had decided to make one final attempt. He walked into the den. Roscoe was exactly where he thought he’d be – in the recliner. He was wide awake.
    “You shouldn’t be here,” Roscoe said.  
    Zane turned off the television. He sat down on the couch across from Roscoe.  
    “I’ve had a change of heart,” Zane said. “I want you to come and live with me. I have plenty of room. It’s a great place, beautiful, right on the river. I know you’ve never seen it, but I think you’d like it. I have a cook and a few other people who help around the house. They’ll wait on you hand and foot. I have an indoor swimming pool and a whirlpool, a sauna, you name it. You’ll eat good food, and I’ll make sure your medical care is the very best available. You can live out your life in luxury. You won’t have a worry in the world.”
    “I believe I’ll stay put.”
    “I’m sorry, Father,” Zane said. “Really, I’m sorry. I’ve behaved very badly. You’re old and you’re sick and you need help. It’s my place to help you. Let me help you.”
    “I’m not sick and I don’t need help. From you or anybody else. Why don’t you grow some balls for once in your life and just come out and say what you really want?”
    “I’m your son. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Just let me help you.”
    “You love two things, boy. You love yourself and you love money, and the only reason you’re here right now is that you’re afraid you might lose in court tomorrow. All you really want is for me to tell you where the rest of it is, and that ain’t gonna happen.”
    Zane kept his tone steady. “Please, let’s not fight. I’m not here to argue or bring up the past or cast aspersions.”
    “I’m going to watch my ballgame,” Roscoe said. “Feel free to leave any time.” He pushed a button on the television remote and the set came back to life.  
    Zane stood.  
    “Fine,” he said. “You’re a fool, always have been. You’re going to rot in the worst nursing home I can find. And as soon as the jury finds you incompetent, I’m going to hire a crew and clear this mountain. I’ll bulldoze every building, sell every tree. I’ll find it. Believe me, I’ll find it. And as soon as I do, I’m going to divide this place up into little pieces and