“Trump Card,” Excerpt 7 from “The G.O.D. Journal,” by Jeff Posey

Chapter 3, Part 1, from The G.O.D. Journal: a search for gold , a novel by Jeff Posey. Read from the beginning here.

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Marshall Garvin had his hands in dishwater when the doorbell rang. He took a dish towel as he went to the front door.

“Professor Garvin?”

“You the fellow on the phone?”

“Yes, sir.”

Garvin pushed the door wide and beckoned the man inside. He tried not to pass snap judgments on people, but, of course, did. Especially when a shaved-headed stranger arrived in a beat-to-crap blue GM pickup truck at his house wearing no hat. Lots of men went hatless in Pagosa, he noticed, but he judged them fools for exposing their heads to the unfiltered high-altitude sunlight. This man he ushered into his house was therefore a fool.

“Just finishing up my lunch dishes,” Garvin said. “You stand there and talk while I wash, then I’ll get us something to drink and we can sit out back.” He plunged his hands into the dishwater.

“Well, I want to ask you a few questions about rock formations, cliffs and rock art and such around here, and Melba up at Chimney Rock said I should talk to you. She gave me your number.”

“I’ll have to talk to her about that. Keep going.” Garvin scrubbed a soup bowl.

“Well, my name is Baxter….”

“Full name?”

“Uh, Jedediah Aberdene Baxter.”

“Never heard the name Aberdene before. You go by Jed, I imagine. I sure as hell would.”

“Just Baxter.”

Garvin nodded and laughed. “Me too. Just Garvin. None of that professor/doctor crap.” He finished the last dish and drained the sudsy water. “I’m making tea for me. Some kind of herbal crap that’s supposed to be good for my innards. My niece makes me drink it. You want that or water? Or a beer.” Garvin stood and looked at Baxter foot to head for the first time. Not a tall guy. Couple of inches shy of six feet. Four inches shorter than Garvin. He liked being tall. Most people naturally deferred to tall people. Garvin accepted their deference as divine right.

“Water,” Baxter said. “Don’t bother with ice.”

“I usually don’t.” Garvin turned on the gas jets beneath a teapot. He noticed Baxter stood with legs apart, hands hanging loose. Like a fighter waiting for first contact. Nervous energy. Suspiciously wary. “Why the cliff fetish?” Garvin asked.

Baxter smiled and did a double-take flicker of his eyes. Garvin liked that. Kept people off balance, even if only by surprising word choices. He figured he did folks a favor. Made them more aware of being alive.

“I’m looking for something on a cliff, and I thought you might know where it is.” Baxter felt the animalistic need to crouch in Garvin’s presence. Keep his balance. Be ready to move. As if Garvin were a threat. But how could he be? Grey-haired guy in his sixties or early seventies. Tall. Looked strong. Face darkened by sun. Exactly what you would expect of a man who used to run geological expeditions and now studied Anasazi rock art. Garvin radiated a sense of power. But even so, Baxter knew he could best the man in any fair fight. No reason to be afraid. Not yet.

“Have to do with your family gold?” asked Garvin.

Baxter took a step back as if from a blow. His eyes widened. His nostrils flared. How did he know?

“Oh, hell, everybody around here knows the story of Baxter’s gold,” said Garvin with a chuckle. “Even had some treasure-hunters come through a time or two, though it’s been a couple decades since the last ones. But you’re the first Baxter I know of coming back to look for it.”

Of course, Baxter thought. Of course he would know. The history museum freely told the story. People would know. Especially people like Garvin.

“Did you ever have to sign a non-disclosure agreement at the university?” asked Baxter.

Now it was Garvin’s turn to step back from an unexpected comment. He usually saw where people were going. But he didn’t see this.

“Maybe.”

“But you had agreements, maybe between people sharing research secrets.”

Garvin nodded. “Yeah. So.”

“I need an agreement with you.”

The tea kettle started whistling. Garvin used it to give him time to think. Agreements had to be negotiated. Baxter would have to tell him what he wanted in order to negotiate it. He made his tea, and as he stirred, he thought about what Baxter must have worth keeping secret.

“You found a clue, didn’t you? Something from the family attic. The bottom of an old trunk.” Garvin laughed. “The source of all family secrets! And you think it means something. That it?”

Baxter felt off-balance, pushed back again. The old man’s brain still ticked, no doubt about that.

“Well, maybe. But I can’t tell you without an agreement.”

 

Short description for The G.O.D. Journal: After he accidentally kills his wife, Baxter runs. Hiding in his derelict boyhood home in Pagosa Springs, Colorado, he discovers a journal that leads to a treasure of gold. With the guiding hand of a deranged hunter and Wall Street financier, Baxter discovers true gold is concealed in the heart of a woman who helps him search for an Anasazi pictograph that is key to his family treasure. Read the full description….

Hot Water Press publications scheduled for 2013: Annie and the Second Anasazi (a trilogy set in the year 2054), and Soo Potter (an Anasazi historical novel). To find out when they’re available, sign up for notification by email here.