"TIME MACHINES"
**Immediately follows "Throw Away"**
"While seeking revenge, dig two graves - one for yourself."
Douglas Horton
CHAPTER 1
Phillip Burris was 63 years old, had been married and divorced twice, served four years in the Army and worked as an auto mechanic since his discharge back in 1973. As he drove toward Lake Houston the balding man cursed at the other drivers on the road, firmly convinced that ninety nine percent of them didn't deserve to have a license. Turning onto the dirt and gravel road that led to the boat ramp that he always used, Phillip paid no attention to the fact that the boat trailer he was towing bounced crazily on one wheel as he made the turn, nor did he notice the looks from the group that was hiking along the shoulder of the road who were forced to turn away from the angry cloud of dust and rock that boiled up as he accelerated toward his destination.
When the ramp was in sight he gave a cocky laugh as he passed a young couple who were about to launch their boat and skidded to a stop on the loose gravel before throwing the truck into reverse and backing down the ramp, cursing loudly yet again as he realized that the lake level was lower than he could ever remember seeing it. He climbed down from the cab removing the straps on the back of the trailer and then unhooking it from the winch. I'll show these kids how to launch a boat. Once back into the truck he roughly put it in reverse and stomped on the gas, quickly backing down to the water before slamming on his brakes causing the boat to shoot off the trailer and into the water. Laughing at the looks on the faces of the young couple he gunned the truck and parked, taking up two spaces. It wasn't until he got out and began walking toward the ramp that he saw the pair laughing hysterically. There in the water his boat was floating on out into the bay; he had forgotten to tie off to a nearby tree.
As the younger man managed to quit laughing he offered to take Phillip to his boat.
"Yeah – thanks." Burris waited impatiently as the couple launched the boat, giving them a single "thank you" as he climbed over the side and into his own craft. As they pulled away and began cruising toward the mouth of the bay both looked back at him and laughed again. After cursing yet again under his breath at the pair he started the engine, slamming it forward at full throttle and zipping past the pair, flipping them off as he looked back. In that instant everything seemed to happen incredibly fast as the boat slammed into something under the water and Phillip was thrown out.
As he was plunged down into the water he couldn't believe his eyes: there in front of him were two cars sitting neatly side by side as if parked in a lot. Though he couldn't swim, the man refused to wear a life jacket and as he was struggling to reach the surface he involuntarily opened his mouth to scream as he came face to face with a skeleton that appeared to be staring at him from the passenger seat of one of the cars. A crashing pain went through his chest and everything went dark.
"I can't believe this is your boat." LAPD Lieutenant Michael Hoyt looked over at his best friend as they started out across the lake.
"Why not? It's a good boat. Daddy gave it to me when I was a kid. Got a lot of good memories in her." Matt Houston patted the console of the old aluminum boat.
"It's a lot smaller than "Endeavor" was." Hoyt shook his head as he thought back a few years to the yacht the private investigator had owned when they met. Back then Houston had a reputation as a playboy millionaire – a ladies man. These days he was a happily married man. Much to the relief of everyone who knew them, Matt and his partner in Houston Investigations, CJ Parsons, had been married and now were the proud parents to fourteen month old Catherine Rose, had recently adopted a fifteen year old boy named Tomás, and were expecting twin boys in the fall. He glanced over at his friend who looked completely happy and relaxed. "I bet you like this one better, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do; CJ and I spent a lot of time on board when we were growing up. I wouldn't trade it for a million bucks." He eased the throttle forward and they headed towards the mouth of the bay. "Uh oh." Up ahead he saw what appeared to be a crash. A young woman was worriedly leaning over the side of the vessel looking down into the water. As she heard the boat approaching she frantically waved her arms.
Easing in next to her Matt warped the two boats together as she told him what had happened.
"Jes?" A young man had surfaced with an arm around a lifeless looking man.
Moving over into the couple's boat, the PI and cop helped him bring the man on board. "Is there anyone else down there?" The young man shook his head no and turned to help Hoyt as he started CPR on the victim.
Pulling out his cell phone Houston called the Harris County Sheriff's Department of which he had been a member for about six months. "This is Sergeant Houston – badge number 5156." He described the situation and requested help. "They're on the way." He turned to where the other two men were working on the victim.
The cop shook his head. "This guy is a goner." He looked at the young man. "So he was passing you and ran into something?"
Matt was peering down into the murky water. "It's a car."
"There's two down there…with skeletons." The young man pointed down.
The PI looked around. "The lake is way down – lower than I've ever seen it." He took off the sneakers he was wearing as well as his socks and shirt before going over the side of the boat, taking a deep breath and going beneath the surface. Just as the young guy had said there were two cars sitting side by side on the bottom of the lake; one was a late seventies model Chevy containing four skeletons and the other was a Studebaker housing two more, the driver of which appeared to have a gunshot wound from the hole that was in his skull.
As he broke the surface Houston was helped back into the boat by Hoyt and the young man who introduced himself as Eric Cortez and the young woman as his wife Jessica as he extended his hand.
"Matt Houston." The PI sat down on the side and slicked his hair back. "Looks like a 70's model Chevelle and a Studebaker…maybe a '52 or '53." Turning he pointed to the road which ran along the bank. "Bet they ran off of there. There used to be a lot of drag races along that stretch. That's probably what happened to the Chevelle…but not the Studebaker."
"What makes you say that?" Hoyt looked at his friend.
"Looks like a gunshot wound in the driver's head."
"Yeah, I guess that doesn't really point to a drag race." The cop rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Go ahead and say it, Michael." Houston grinned at him. Hoyt shook his head and began laughing. "Go ahead."
"Lightning rod." The cop cracked up as did Houston.
A few minutes later the lake patrol arrived with a passenger that surprised Houston. Sheriff Francine Martinez shook her head. "I heard you were in town. Just couldn't have a quiet visit could you?"
"No ma'am, it doesn't seem that way."
"Who's your friend here?"
"Sheriff Martinez, meet Lieutenant Michael Hoyt – LAPD."
"Well sure – we spoke on the phone last December. It's a pleasure to meet you – just wish it wasn't here."
"Yes ma'am."
Martinez listened as Houston described the scene down below. "You say it was a 70's model Chevelle…did you happen to notice if it had a license plate on it?"
"I didn't look but I will." Houston slipped back over the side as the sheriff arranged for a boat with a crane to be called in to remove the vehicles. He surfaced and waited for her to end the call. "Texas plate DJM-779. I'll go check the other one." Once again he disappeared and quickly resurfaced. "Texas plate 388-ZMV."
As the cowboy started back down Hoyt leaned over the side. "What are you doing?"
"You'll find out in a minute." The crooked grin and the twinkle in his eyes caused the cop to crack up. He watched as his friend swam around to the far side of the vehicles. In a minute he was coming back to the surface with something in one hand. "Open up the white cooler." He swam over to the old boat and surprised his buddy by tossing a blue catfish into the cooler.
"No you didn't…" Hoyt began laughing.
"Houston?" Martinez slipped over onto Matt's boat. "Did you just remove evidence from the crime scene?" She laughed as she finished the question.
"Yes ma'am – I'd say about seven pounds worth." He boarded the boat.
"My brother likes to do that, too. Anyway, the Chevelle is part of a mystery that goes back to 1986. Four teenagers disappeared on their prom night. Looks like they've been found. Now the Studebaker is a little different story." She took the Fizzy Pop that Matt pulled out of the other cooler. "Thanks. Do you remember hearing about Tank Oliphant?"
"The guy who ran booze and numbers?" Houston sat down on one of the seats.
Martinez popped the drink and took a sip nodding her head. "Yep. That was his '53 Studebaker – and possibly him. His wife reported both him and the car as missing in February of 1954."
"Yeah, I remember my dad talking about that. Two months later Oliphant's wife married her husband's second in command but it wasn't legal because Oliphant hadn't been found and it hadn't been long enough for him to be declared dead."
"Uh huh. But that didn't stop her and Miles Magowsky."
"Nope – they went right on without skipping a beat." He took a long swig. "Huh…not what I expected to find out here today."
"You found a piece of Texas history – and that's no fish tale."
Later that evening at the Houston ranch, the two friends sat down to a meal of fried catfish and talked about the big mystery of Tank Oliphant's disappearance. Madre Rosa had just finished cleaning up after the meal and sat down at the table with the two men. "I remember hearing my mother and father talking about that when I was a girl…quite the scandal back in those days."
Houston had his laptop open and had been looking through the information about the Oliphants. "The general consensus was that Magowsky wanted Tank's operation as well as Lydia Oliphant. He ran it until he got busted in '74." The PI continued to read. "Well what do you know? Both of them are still alive. He's 82 and she's 80. They live over in Atascocita." He took a sip of coffee.
After some calculations Hoyt spoke. "So Magowsky was 20 years old when all of this happened."
Madre Rosa spoke up. "Tank was in his 40's when he disappeared."
Matt worked the keyboard a little more. "Oliphant married her when she was 16 and he was 40." His phone rang. "Hey Lil Mama, how're ya doin'?"
CJ was sitting in the recliner that they shared so often. "I'm fine. Are you having fun finding sunken Studebakers?" Both cracked up.
"I can't slip anything by you can I? And technically I'm not the one that found it." He explained the details. "But I did find a nice blue cat under the Chevelle – mighty tasty, too."
"You rat!" CJ laughed again. "So are you and Michael having fun?"
"We are – and hopefully we won't get involved with any more sunken cars. How's everybody doing there?"
"Great. Tomás took Kathy to the movies with Sheila as a driver and chaperone and Catey and Tilly are playing here in the den."
Matt could hear their daughter laughing and an occasional woof from the half Husky/half Blue Heeler that was her constant companion and bodyguard. He passed the news about Tomás and Kathy along to Michael who approved.
"Guess I better give Catey a bath. Do you want to talk to her?"
"Of course." He put the phone on speaker and gave a big smile as the toddler came to the phone.
"Daddy!"
"Hey Lady Bug – whatcha doin'?"
"Me an' Tilly play hide an' seek." She giggled.
"Uh huh. Can you and Tilly do a job for me?"
"Uh huh."
"Can you give Mama a big ole hug and kiss for me? And take good care of her?"
"Uh huh. Here Mama." He could hear as she did. In a minute she was back talking and after a few minutes left to go play with Tilly some more.
"Let me know if you need me, Babe."
"We're fine. Just see if you can stay out of trouble. Love you, Cowboy."
"Love you, too. 'Bye."
"She hasn't found out the whole reason why you came down here has she?" The housekeeper smiled.
"I don't think so." He gave a chuckle. "Think I'm going to take a ride over there. Do y'all want to go?"
"No, I've got some things to do around here." She got up from the table and gathered the cups.
"Okay. C'mon, Pard." He popped Hoyt on the back of the head and went out to the truck.
"So what did you find out about it?" Michael got in the passenger seat and they went down the drive.
"It's definitely up for sale but from what Lyle told me it needs a lot of work." Matt turned right at the end of the drive and went about half a mile before turning right into the driveway of what had been the ranch of Errol Parsons – CJ's uncle. She had come to live with him after the death of both of her parents. Parsons had been the exact opposite of his brother Eddie who was CJ's father. Errol had been a mean, self-centered drunk who despised nearly everyone including his niece and the Houstons.
Pulling up outside of the house, Matt put the truck into park, silently staring at it and what was left of the barn. He finally spoke. "This is the first time I've set foot on this place since CJ and I graduated from high school in 1997." They got out and went up on the front porch, peeking in through the windows. "Looks like the last owner wasn't any better than Errol." The living room was a shambles of broken down furniture, ragged carpet, dust, and spider webs.
Hoyt gave a low whistle. "How long has it been empty?"
"About two months." The cowboy went down the steps and to the barn. The roof was missing in several places as were some of the boards on the walls. As he opened the door one of the hinges sagged and it swung open with a loud creak. Removing a flashlight from his back pocket he carefully entered and went straight over to the wall on the right hand side, the beam of light landing on a piece of metal that was jutting out of a large wooden beam. When he spoke it was almost a whisper. "It's still here."
The cop looked at the darkened piece of metal. "That's the knife?"
Matt looked over at his friend clearly surprised. "You know about that?"
Nodding he replied. "Roy told me."
"I didn't know that he knew about it."
"Bill told him right after it happened."
"He was a mean son of a …" the PI stopped, then turned to shine the light around the barn. It was a mess.
"Do you think she'll be okay with it after everything she went through here?" Hoyt looked at the decaying old walls and the garbage that had been left behind by the previous owner.
Houston turned back toward the door as he spoke. "Even when we were kids she always said that she wanted it so she could run it the right way." He gave Michael a sad smile. "She loved the ranch but not Errol."
"I don't think anyone loved Errol."
"Not even Errol."
