Page 80 of Wild Oblivion

“We’re just going to put a hole in his floor.”

“First offense?” I asked.

“Like I said, Carlos is a good kid. Right now, he’s looking at a 2nd degree felony and a max of 15 years. Just like we all are right now.”

I was in no position to make a deal, but I was confident I could nudge things in the right direction. “I can’t make any guarantees, but I can push for deferred adjudication and probation, maybe even a pre-trial diversion with full restitution and community service.”

Juan thought for a moment, then we shook on it. “Okay, boss. Let’s get started.”

They stepped out of the back door and walked down the driveway to grab their gear. The duo returned several minutes later with plastic sheeting, tape, a concrete saw, and an array of tools.

Juan fired up the saw and cut into the grout around the tile. There was no turning back now.

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The saw screeched and scraped as it cut into the concrete, spitting dust. The shrill, piercing sound could split eardrums. We wore hearing protection. Juan and Jesus didn’t bother.

You could hear the noise a few blocks over.

We covered all the furniture with a plastic dropcloth and taped over doorways. Within moments of cutting, the area was covered in dust.

In an abundance of caution, Juan cut out several tiles, giving us a wide berth to look for the crystal. After he'd cut through the slab, Jesus went to town with the jackhammer and broke up the six-inch concrete lined with rebar. They cut the slab into chunks, then hauled it off and dumped it in the backyard for now. Below the slab was dirt and limestone.

Juan and Jesus kept taking turns with the jackhammer, shoveling out debris and hauling it into the backyard with a wheelbarrow.

Once through the slab and the backfill, Juan and Jesus hit looser dirt and limestone that had been dug up before. It seemed like we were on target.

JD and I shared optimistic glances.

We were about four hours into the process by the time we made it through the bulk of it. And when I saywe, I meanthey.

With the pit about 2 feet deep, there was no sign of the Vrilkristall.

There was absolutely no way Henrik had dug any deeper than this.

"Are you sure this is where it's at?" I asked again, growing frustrated. "Because it's not here.”

Henrik stood at the edge of the pit and looked down into the hole. He stared at it for a long moment, looked back to the fence, checked all of his landmarks, measured in his head one more time, then said, "This is exactly where I buried it." A sheepish look played on his face. "But I recall moving it.”

My eyes rounded with exasperation. "You moved it!"

"Yes.”

My eyes squeezed tight, and my jaw tensed. I wanted to explode, trembling with frustration. I took a breath, settled myself, and said in a calm voice, "Where did you move it?”

"I decided to put it in a safe deposit box at the bank. Yes. That’s it. That’s where it is."

I gave him a flat look. “Henrik, we spent most of the daytearing up someone's house, looking for that crystal. Now you're telling me it's not here.”

“That’s what I’m telling you.”

“May I remind you that you assured me countless times that this was the spot. Do you remember that?"

"Yes, I remember.”

I couldn't get mad at the guy. It wasn't his fault. "But now you are absolutely sure it's in a bank vault in a safe deposit box?"

“Yes.”