“Theo Ivanhoff. He’s the neighbor Brit said is slap-ass crazy. Those were his exact words. Do you remember?”
“Is he sure?”
“You were right about him from the start. Or maybe he is an archaeologist-Brit doesn’t really know him-but Theo has lived in the area his whole life. Not ten minutes ago, I happened to mention the name Ivanhoff. Talk about putting the brakes on a fun evening. Christ, Smithie, now we have to figure out how to handle it if Theo shows up for our tour in the morning. Or maybe we shouldn’t go. Brit offered to come along, but he’s got some sort of class in Port Charlotte.”
I was still a little dazed. “You mean everything Theo said was a lie?”
“That’s what he’s known for. Pretending to be someone he’s not.”
I said, “I didn’t trust him. Right off, I didn’t trust him, but this is hard to believe.”
“I’m still working it out myself. The feds wouldn’t hire someone local to do a a local archaeological survey. I know enough about government to know that. And remember the nasty way he talked about the head archaeologist? Brit says Theo has told people he’s a heart surgeon and a commercial pilot, an Army Ranger, all kinds of crazy things. That’s what he does-he’s an egomaniac. Not dangerous, exactly. The locals put up with him and all. Theo’s… functional, you know? Plus he’s a druggie, the type who experiments. Brit was worried enough to set me straight.”
“Experiments?”
“I’m not sure what he meant by that either.”
I checked the door again before taking a seat. “Theo knows you’re a deputy sheriff. It was stupid of him to lie to us.” I looked at her. “I don’t think he’ll show. And if he does? Well, your Aunt Bunny owns the property. He’ll be trespassing.”
Birdy muttered, “What’s stupid is me having the hots for a freak like that,” then thought for a moment. “Trouble is, he didn’t actually do anything illegal. Unless… unless he doesn’t own that camper trailer. Brit only knows him by reputation, so I didn’t bring that up. But the thing about owning a chimpanzee? That’s a definite possibility-dangerous animals of some type. Maybe we can nail him for that.”
I was lost again. “You’re talking about the snake place?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t get it. Does Theo live nearby? The RV park makes more sense. I picked up on that-everyone knows him there.”
The look on Birdy’s face: Whoops, I left out something important.
Yes, she had. Theo owned the RV park and the Slew Vaccine company. Actually, Theo’s father owned it all, but Theo had grown up working there. His father was old now and seldom left the property.
“Theo won’t admit what his family does,” Birdy said. “That’s another weird thing about him. Like he’s ashamed. Remember the nasty things he said about anyone who would go into the vaccine business? But all the locals know the truth. The only thing Theo’s an expert at is getting high and taking care of the RV park-and snakes.”
“There was something creepy about him from the start. A snake handler, good lord.”
“I should either start trusting your instincts, Hannah, or find myself a nice, dependable score buddy. This is no way to live. Seriously, I think my hormones are out of whack.”
I asked, “A score-what?”
Birdy looked at me and waited until I said, “Oh. Well… I’ve been a little antsy myself.”
“Never mind. Point is, I all but threw myself at a strung-out psycho or just an egomaniac-not much difference. Part of me doesn’t ever want to see him again, but I also wouldn’t mind cuffing the bastard and reading him his Miranda rights. So what do we do in the morning?”
We talked for a while longer before I said, “Your aunt is paying me to do a job. I think I should be there with a camera and hope Theo shows up. The attorney wants pictures of Civil War artifacts and bones. I don’t mind going by myself if you’re not comfortable.”
Birdy said, “Not a chance. I’ll carry my Glock in my purse.”
BELTON MATÁS, standing outside the rope at the dig site, morning dew and an equipment bag at his feet, called to me, “If you’re looking for Dr. Ivanhoff, he just left. Almost like he was avoiding you, the way he ran off.” He motioned toward trees that sloped toward the river. A glimpse of Theo’s shoulders was what I saw, a man in a hurry, head slouched low.
I replied with a careful, “Good morning, Belton,” then waited until I was close enough to speak in a normal voice. “I’ve got some news about Theo-if you don’t already know.”
Matás knew, but not in a guilty way. I could tell by the way he smiled. “Did you figure it out yourself? Or did you run into the real archaeologist? That’s what I did.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Leslie Babbs from Louisville. Just now, he walked back to his truck for something. Don’t worry-we’re going to get our tour, but he’s not enthusiastic.” Then, confidentially, Belton added, “He strikes me as a fussy old codger for a man not even my age. But he’s no fraud. I’ve read his papers-Leslie Babbs knows his Civil War.”
I said, “Why didn’t you tell me about Theo last night? That’s why you got flustered when I mentioned his award, isn’t it? If my friend Birdy hadn’t found out-”
“Now, now,” Belton said. “Delicate situations require delicacy. I didn’t know your relationship with the young man. And I wasn’t a hundred percent certain he was a fraud until this morning. Ivanhoff didn’t expect Dr. Babbs to arrive until tomorrow. If you’d been twenty minutes earlier, you’d have witnessed quite a scene, Hannah.”
I said, “I wish I could have seen his face.”
“Maybe you will. Dr. Babbs called the police.” Matás moved to peer around my shoulder. Birdy, carrying a shoulder bag, a sweater knotted around her waist, was walking toward us.
“She is the police,” I informed him.
He chuckled at that, but then said, “For real?”
“A deputy sheriff. And she is seriously… Well, I’m not going to use the term, but she’s already mad at Theo. And for good reason.”
“Seriously pissed off, you think?” The man lifted his face to the sun and savored the possibilities. He looked rumpled, in his jacket with elbow patches and with his slacks tucked into his boots, but spry. I got the impression he hadn’t slept well but was used to tolerating the aches and pains and rough mornings that accompanied old age.
“Yes, Belton,” I replied, “she is.”
He grinned. “Good,” he said, then used his cell to call Carmelo and remind him, “Don’t forget to buy gas. We’ll have two extra passengers in the boat this afternoon.”
It wasn’t until he’d hung up that he asked, “Do you still want to see where we found the bottles?”
“I brought mosquito spray and a change of clothes,” I answered. I’d also brought Capt. Summerlin’s journal. It was sealed in a watertight bag that added weight to my pack, but I wasn’t going to leave it unattended again. Not while Theo and Lucia and her witch friends were still around.
LESLIE BABBS was a nice man but distracted and lacked energy-Belton was right about that-and he wasn’t comfortable bending the rules. When I asked, “Would you mind if I stood here alone for a few minutes?” he tugged at his collar and said, “Sorry, the waiver you signed requires visitors to be accompanied. And I really do want to get this Ivanhoff matter settled.”
He and Belton and Birdy had turned away from an excavation where human bones nested in dirt that had been carved with the delicacy of an artist’s brush. No discernible order to the scattered vertebrae, several femurs that were scorched black by fire, and at least four partial skulls and one that appeared complete. That skull, one eye socket still buried, had a bullet hole in the forehead the size of a nickel. It lay near shards of tobacco pipes and brass uniform buttons and what might have been an iron hoop protruding from the soil-but also could have been the rim of a huge boiling cauldron.