Page 59 of The Last Grift
“We’re not here to discuss my humor or lack thereof, Karne. Do you think you can get with the program?”
“Okay, but next time it’s you who’s supine on the couch and me asking the questions,” he grumbled.
Casey forced his lips downward. He wasn’t allowing himself to find the conversation amusing, or at least wasn’t clueing Charming in on his amusement. Gabriel Karne was not entertaining, he was a menace. And Casey wasn’t going to argue about the definition of supine.
“Fine. Anything to get you to cooperate.”
Gabriel lifted his eyelids ever so slightly and shot Casey a quick glance that he refused to find appealing. He was not amused, not charmed, and definitely not fooled.
“Tough customer,” Gabriel murmured.
Casey watched as Gabriel’s eyes began to twitch underneath his eyelids.
“Okay, blah, blah, driving in. Potholes and mud. I’m parking. Maybe there were tire tracks that looked fresh? Not sure. I got out and walked toward the shed even though I didn’t want to. When I got close to it, I definitely smelled something faint but gross. Is that out of place enough for you? Anyway, I really didn’t want to open the door. Oh, yeah.” Those surprisingly green eyes opened again. “Gordon must be doing some work or something. There’s a plastic tarp off to one side of the shed with one of those five-gallon buckets underneath it. The kind they sell at a big box hardware store. This one was white.”
That was curious. “Was there anything inside it?”
“Nope, sorry, did not stop to look. Once I saw the body in the shed, I was out of there like a bat out of hell. Didn’t even remember it until now. I mean, a guy can work on his own property, right?”
Yes, Casey agreed that a person had that right. But it was the container itself that had him thinking. And if he was right, this whole thing—including Gordon going to jail—was all about the money.
“The Perkinses had that kind of bucket when I busted them Tuesday. That’s how they were transporting the chanterelles.”
“I’m asking, again, how is a bucket of shrooms going to help us figure out where Elton is? He didn’t drive up there to check out the scene at Gordon’s tonight. His truck is still right here. Although I am going to be embarrassed if he shows up and we’ve called out the National Guard.”
The bucket was the key, Casey was sure it was. It was possibly the key to what had happened to Dwayne and definitely why Gordon had been set up to go to jail for a few months. To get him out of the way. Gourmet mushrooms were big money, and it seemed like someone who was not Gordon may have discovered them on his property—or, more likely, adjacent to it, on federal land.
“I have an idea why Elton was asking about property lawyers, but I think he’s on the wrong track.”
“Why?”
“Property lawyers help owners deal with land surveys and stuff like that.”
“Surveys?” Karne repeated.
“Mineral and oil rights, that sort of thing.”
Except Casey suspected that in this case it wasfungi. Or access to fungi. He could be wrong, but the white bucket told him he wasn’t.
“So… persons unknown think there is something valuable on Gordon’s land and want it for themselves? How very basic.”
“Right. Spring and the fall. That’s mushroom-harvesting season around here. Spring for morels and fall for chanterelles,serious money. The haul I confiscated from the Perkinses earlier in the week probably had a market value in the thousands.”
“Holy shit.”
“That about sums it up.”
“But mushrooms?” Gabriel was shaking his head. “Killed for mushrooms? Sent to jail because of mushrooms?”
“People have killed for more ridiculous things. At least fungi are real.” He had a thought. “I’m going to call my State Department of Agriculture contact. When I talked to her the other day, she commented that there’s been a lot this year. I didn’t think she meant anything by it at the time, just the normal griping. But maybe she meant measurably more passing through her office? Which possibly translates to even more mushrooms making it to the black market. That’s what I mean about following the money.”
“Yeah, I’m all about following the money,” Gabriel said, his tone too knowing for Casey’s comfort.
He didn’t doubt Gabriel’s sentiment. He didn’t know the details of Gabriel Karne’s game yet, but he’d figured it was all about money from the get-go.
“Huh. A black market for fungi. The things I learn. I think some sort of conspiracy to get a guy’s land for gourmet mushrooms seems too complicated. Cons should be easy so mistakes aren’t made.”
“It’s big money and it’s poaching, just like killing deer or elk offseason and without the right permits. It’s illegal, and the poachers intend to profit from it. No one has enough family to consume one hundred and seventy-four pounds of mushrooms, like the guys who were busted a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t catch that one, it was Fish and Game.”
