Second Chance Gold (Buck Reilly Adventure Series Book 4), John Cunningham [polar express read aloud .txt] 📗

Chairs were lined up a dozen deep, the front row mostly filled with VIP’s. I saw movement by the small podium and took Nicole by the arm to edge our way through the milling assembly. Lou Atlas was holding court in front, on the other side of Harry Greenbaum. Marius Stakelborough was talking with Bankie Banx, both men nodding and using lots of hand gestures. Gisele Atlas was seated in the front row, looking apprehensive and scolding her children, who wouldn’t sit still.

Someone turned on the loudspeaker, and the sudden crackle silenced the crowd. A priest stepped onto the side of the small stage, followed by Bruno Magras. On cue, everybody took their seats, Nicole and I next to Lou Atlas. I caught Booth’s glance out of the corner of my eye and saw him smile—a shit-eating grin, in fact.

The priest said a short, vague prayer in French about being thankful and grateful no matter the challenges we face.

Amen to that.

The priest moved aside and Bruno Magras stepped in front of the microphone.

“Since many of you have come from America today, I will give my remarks in English.” He took a deep breath. “We are here to express our love and gratitude to someone who moved to St. Barths many years ago, married into a local family, and while his path may not have always been straight, it led us here today for this solemn yet important occasion. Jerry Atlas.”

Polite applause followed.

“Let his journey be a reminder to us all. Many paths can lead to destruction, but it is a narrow road that leads to new life, and a path that only a few ever find. I thank everyone for coming here today to honor this occasion, and I thank both the Atlas and de Haenen families for their generous gift to the people of St. Barths.”

A louder applause followed as Monsieur Magras turned to his side and held his hand out.

Jerry stepped with a sure gait onto the stage, wearing a light beige suit and a broad smile. I hadn’t seen him since the rescue and was amazed at how different he looked as he shook Monsieur Magras’s hand. He’d put back on at least twenty pounds and looked not just healthy but downright handsome.

When the applause ended, he leaned into the microphone.

“I’m not a man of many words, but I welcome you all here today for the ground breaking of the Atlas de Haenen School here in Lorient.” After the applause, he bent down, lifted a small case up onto the table by the podium, and opened it up. Light scattered off the gold and reflected onto the white ceiling of the tent as the crowd swooned. “It will be paid for through the sale of the gold that was buried on Ile Chevreau many years ago.”

Jerry thanked a bunch of people, starting with his wife and family, and finally his Uncle Lou.

“Had Lou not sent Buck Reilly here to investigate my demise, I would have died on Ile Chevreau. But it was the month I spent there that changed my life, where I learned what really mattered—family, friends, community, and God.”

He held up a gold bar in each hand.

“This gave me my second chance, but it’s not the answer. Everyone lusts for wealth, but without sure feet and a steadfast heart, it’s only a curse. So while we’re here to break ground on this new school, I hope you will also take my experience to heart.”

Jerry stepped down to a thunderous applause. I caught Lou Atlas shaking his head—whether in amazement or disagreement, I couldn’t tell.

At the party that followed, Jerry appeared next to us and thanked Nicole again for donating the share of gold he’d given her, since he’d found the map in a building sold to him by her grandfather. He reiterated his promise to send me a fee for helping him, which I’d need for my imminent legal battle.

Lou Atlas pushed his way through and gave Jerry a hug.

“Your mother would be proud of you, boy,” he said.

When Jerry was pulled away by others, Lou looked into my eyes.

“Can’t believe that boy’s transformation.”

“You manipulated me into this situation, didn’t you, Lou? Harry, too. Tell me straight, was it the gold or the millions at BNP that you wanted?”

His eyes lit up and he cackled.

“Nothing ever happens without manipulation, Treasure Hunter, you ought to know that.”

When I turned around, Special Agent Booth was waiting for me. In the few years I’d known him, I’d never seen a bigger smile on his face. After a moment he leaned close and whispered: “Your ass is mine now, Reilly.”

“Let me say goodbye to Nicole,” I said.

He shook his head.

“I’m not here to arrest you—I just want to make it clear that when I call, you answer. When I say now, you jump. When I say—”

“You’ve said enough, Booth. I get it.” I paused, all the blood rushing to my head. “And if that’s all—”

“And I never found a connection between Dodson and Gutierrez. The plane was how the Cubans sent Rostenkowski home.” He stared me down. “That’s all, hotshot. For now.” He patted my arm, walked straight out of the reception, and never once looked back.

Nicole walked over, her eyebrows lifted. She steered me by the elbow— straight into Gunner.

He was wearing a white sport coat and black jeans. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. Jack was next to him, but he was smiling, and behind his aviator sunglasses he had the look of a real jet-setter.

“A school,” Gunner said. “What a waste of gold.”

Jack nodded toward Booth. “Wasn’t that your FBI friend?”

It was all I could do not to lunge at him. I felt Nicole’s grip tighten on my bicep.

I pulled an envelope out of my pocket.

“There’s a check for $245,000 in here. I’ll give it to you assholes right now in exchange for Betty.” It was all the money I’d been paid from Lou Atlas.

Gunner snorted a laugh. “We’ve got