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The Sean Wyatt Series Box Set 4

Page 21

by Ernest Dempsey


  "And what will you do with it once you have it?"

  "We'll give it to the Aborigine people. It belongs to them."

  "Unless, of course, they already have it," Reece chimed in.

  "Right."

  Rick considered Tommy's explanation. He made a good case. Unfortunately, he didn't have much more information to give them. "I don't believe they have it," he said. "To the people, the boomerang is just another of their myths. It isn't real. If it were, though, it would be an incredibly important find to all of them, and would go a long way in uniting their theologies."

  Something else had been on Tommy's mind during their conversation. "Do you have any idea who else might want something like that?"

  Rick snorted. "You mean besides every other treasure hunter in the world?"

  "Well, yeah."

  Their host shrugged. "I don't know. Never thought about it. That sort of find would fetch a good sum, though. It's priceless."

  "Yeah," Reece said, "but how many wealthy Aborigines do you know?"

  "Good point."

  "We've gone up against big-time collectors before," Tommy said. "Maybe they wouldn't try to sell it to the Aborigines. A historical item like that would be of incredible value on the black market." He paused for a moment. "Rick, do you happen to have a map sitting around?"

  "Yep. It's under the table where I keep my truck keys."

  Their host got up and walked out of the room, around the corner of the wall that divided the kitchen and eating space from the living room and front door. Twenty seconds later he reappeared holding a folded map in one hand. He tossed it onto the table in front of Tommy. "Here you go. What's in your head?"

  Tommy grabbed a pen that happened to be sitting nearby on a counter and then opened up the map. "Okay if I make a few notes on this?"

  "Sure. I don't use it much anyway."

  Tommy spread the map across the table. He missed the feel of a physical map now that everything was available in a digital format. It took him a second to find what he was looking for. "Ah there it is," he said and circled the word Milbrodale on the map.

  Next, he traced an invisible line over to Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park and then circled it. He repeated the process and circled Watarrka National Park then stepped back to look at his handiwork. Tommy put his hands on his hips as he tried to connect the dots beyond the ones he'd already connected.

  "You looking for a pattern or something?" Reece asked. He stood up and craned his neck to get a better view of the map.

  "Yeah. So far, though, it's just a line. I don't know. I guess I was just reaching."

  "Get some rest," Rick said. "Stop thinking about it for a while, and the answers will come."

  "No offense, but I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. One of my friends—and the girl my best friend loved—was just killed right in front of us. I doubt Sean or I will be sleeping much for a while."

  Trying to work through the puzzle surrounding the golden boomerang had momentarily taken Tommy's mind off the crushing sadness of Adriana's death. Now it came crashing down on him again. He slumped back into the seat and stared at the map.

  No one said anything for a couple of minutes. Then Tommy lifted his head and looked over at Rick. "Pour me one of those drinks."

  29

  Northern Territory

  Tommy woke with a start. A familiar smell filled the air. For six or so seconds, his eyes showed him a blurry area lit by a bright light coming from the left. As his eyes adjusted, he remembered where he was, and the disorientation faded away.

  He'd fallen asleep on Rick's couch the previous night.

  Tommy wasn't accustomed to drinking alcohol, so it only took a few drinks for him to get plastered. The whiskey had also made him extremely drowsy, and before he knew it, he'd passed out.

  He looked over at the opposing couch where Reece still slept. There was no sign of Sean.

  Then everything from the previous day came rushing back. Adriana was dead. Sean hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye. Tommy worried about his friend. Sean had drunk enough booze to kill a small horse and then walked out without so much as a look back.

  Tommy took rapid inventory of the rest of the room. Rick's house was simple, built by his own two hands. It consisted of a kitchen with a small eating space, a living room, and a bedroom and bath. All told, the building was only about 750 square feet, if that. The interior reminded Tommy of the tiny house movement that had taken the US by storm.

  He sat up and paused. His head throbbed, and he put his hand over his face. After rubbing his eyes, he stood up. The world tilted slightly, and he had to put both hands out to steady his balance.

  "I really am a lightweight," he said.

  Reece stirred on the other couch. He turned his head the other direction and remained asleep.

  Tommy tiptoed around the corner and into the kitchen. He was surprised to find Sean sitting at the table. The smell came from the stovetop where Rick was busily frying potatoes and eggs.

  Sean's focus was on the device in his hands. It was Tommy's phone.

  "Is it dried out?" Tommy asked, deciding not to bring up the night before.

  "I think so. I'll know in a second."

  Tommy nodded and waddled over to the table. He collapsed into a chair and looked over at Rick, who was busily stirring things in one pan and flipping things in the other. "Smells great, Rick."

  Rick turned around and grinned. "Thanks. Breakfast will be ready in a minute."

  Before Tommy could ask, Sean told him what he was doing. "We lost our only clue to the next destination yesterday. But we took pictures of it on your phone."

  "Oh that's right. I almost forgot about that."

  "If your phone isn't fried, we might be able to look at those images and figure out exactly what Mathews was trying to tell us."

  Rick shoveled some eggs and potatoes onto a plate and then slid it in front of Tommy. "Pepper and salt are over there if you need it," he said, pointing at a series of shelves on the wall near the refrigerator.

  "Thanks again, Rick."

  The host filled another plate of food and set it down in front of Sean.

  "Thanks," he said. "Not hungry."

  "I know," Rick responded as he poured more scrambled eggs into the frying pan. "Maybe you'll change your mind."

  Sean kept staring at the phone, as if waiting another minute or two would make a difference between the thing working or not.

  He drew a deep breath and then pressed the power button. "Moment of truth."

  Tommy slid his chair around to the other side next to his friend and then pulled the plate over. His appetite wasn't strong either, but he knew he had to eat. And if there was one thing Tommy could do, it was power through food while starving himself of emotion.

  The screen flickered for a second, and both men held their breath. Then the little icon appeared in black and white, and a moment later, the passcode appeared.

  "Looks like it's okay," Sean said.

  "My passcode is—" Tommy started to say.

  Sean was already typing it in. "I know it."

  Incredulous, Tommy straightened up and glared at his friend. "What do you mean, you know it?"

  Sean kept staring at the phone. "I know all your passwords, pretty much for this sort of situation."

  "Wait a minute. All my passwords?"

  "Yeah. Don't worry, I don't use them."

  "But...how?"

  "Let it go, Schultzie. I used to work for the government, remember?" Sean's tone was hollow, like a man who'd lost everything.

  The phone's screen went to the home page, and Sean tapped on the camera. He scrolled to the most recent photos and tapped on the first one.

  Rick scooped up some more of the food onto a plate and joined the other two at the table. He grabbed the salt and pepper shakers, sprinkled a little on his eggs and potatoes. After shoving a steaming forkful into his mouth, he looked at the device in Sean's hands.

  "What are you looking at?"
<
br />   Sean turned the phone around so Rick could see. It only took him two seconds to recognize what it was. "Ah, wallaby track."

  Tommy frowned. "So everyone here knows it's a wallaby but us."

  Sean ignored his friend's complaining. "We found this stone cube yesterday in an underwater cave at Kings Canyon. In our rush to leave, we dropped it. Fortunately, we took a few shots of it before...before everything went down." He struggled to finish the sentence.

  He looked at the phone again and swiped the image to the left. "The cube had four distinct images wrapping around it. This is another one that was carved into it."

  Sean twisted the device again.

  Rick stared at the letters cut in the rock. "J & MC? What does that mean?"

  "We have no idea. There's a boomerang engraved into it and then a fourth image that looks like it was destroyed."

  "Destroyed?" Rick asked, chewing another mouthful of food.

  "Yeah," Sean said. "See?" He displayed the defaced side of the cube to their host, who nodded.

  "Ah yeah. Looks like they didn't want anyone to know what was there."

  Sean flipped the phone around in his hand and gazed at the image. "See, that's what I don't understand. The cube was where the previous clue said it would be. That means it hadn't been touched since Mathews put it there. If it's the next piece to the puzzle, why would he gouge it out like that?"

  "Maybe it was a mistake," Rick offered.

  Reece yawned from the living room, interrupting the conversation. "You guys mind keeping it down? Trying to sleep in here."

  He stretched and sat up.

  "Saved you some food," Rick said. "Best eat it before it gets cold."

  Reece reluctantly got up out of the couch and staggered into the kitchen. "That was a lot of whiskey," he said, grabbing his head.

  "Hair of the dog in the cabinet if you want some more."

  Reece put out his hand to signal his answer to that was no. As he fixed himself a plate of food, the others resumed their discussion.

  "It's a good question," Tommy said. "Based on how well the other engravings were done, I'd be willing to bet the person who did them didn't screw up often. They were clearly at the peak of their craft."

  "Exactly," Sean said. "Which makes me think it's something else."

  "But what?"

  Sean's head twisted back and forth slowly. "Not sure." He set the phone down next to his plate and looked at the map Tommy left on the table the night before. "I see you were working on something. Trying to figure out a pattern?"

  "Yeah," Tommy nodded and forked some potatoes into his mouth.

  "And?"

  "And what? There's no pattern. Three locations. Three circles. The lines don't give us anything to go on."

  Sean leaned back and put both hands behind his head, interlocking the fingers. He stared at the ceiling for a moment and then sat up straight. "We're thinking about this all wrong."

  "How's that?" Reece asked, pulling up a seat next to Rick.

  "We're trying to find the wrong answers in the wrong places. We need to go with what we know so far."

  "And what do we know?" Tommy said.

  "Each location we've been to has that Aboriginal rock art, right?"

  The others nodded. Rick just kept eating.

  "So it would stand to reason that the next place would have the same thing."

  "Yeah," Reece agreed, "but there are dozens of those spots all over the country. How do you know which one to go to?"

  Sean moved his plate out of the way and picked up the pen lying in the center of the map. "Give me some of the other locations, places where you've taken tourists before where there was rock art."

  Reece swallowed a mouthful of food. The question caught him off guard. "Off the top of my head?"

  "Yep."

  "Oh wow. Um..." He struggled to think. His head still pounded from the hangover. Plus he was hungry. Not a great combination for tapping into his memory banks.

  "Just start with the last one you went to," Tommy said.

  Reece nodded. "Okay, yeah. I can do this." He picked up a bottle of water sitting next to him and took several big gulps. He let out a satisfied sound and then started pointing out locations on the map.

  "Here," he said, tapping on a spot. "Here," he said again. "This one."

  Reece went over the entire country of Australia in two minutes and gave them a working list of seven places he knew had rock art. A few were to the far west, beyond the big desert.

  "There are more, I'm sure," he said. "But these are the ones I've seen."

  "That's a good start," Sean said.

  "Yeah, but now what?" Tommy asked. "We've got all these locations and no idea which one to visit next."

  "Maybe." Sean slid the phone onto the table and flipped back to the image of the paw then swiped to the lettering. "Do any of these locations have wallabies?"

  Rick's interest spiked. He leaned forward and spied the different spots. "I can tell you where there aren't any." He pressed his finger to the map. "These three spots definitely don't have any wallabies."

  "You're sure?"

  "He's right," Reece said. "You won't find any there."

  "Okay, good." Sean drew a big X through each of the three circles. "That leaves us with four. Now think, what do these letters have to do with any of these places?"

  The others were stumped. Their eyes went from one circle to the next and back again as they tried to unravel the mystery.

  "A place that has wallabies and relates to those letters," Tommy muttered. He knew he wasn't going to be much help with Australian geography. That didn't keep him from trying.

  Reece cut through the relative silence that had seeped into the room. "Wait a minute. Show me those letters again."

  Sean turned the phone so the screen was facing the big Aussie.

  "That's it. That's gotta be it," Reece exclaimed.

  "What?" Tommy asked.

  "Here." Reece stuck his finger on one of the circles in South Australia. "The Flinders Ranges."

  "What makes you think that's the place?" Sean said.

  Reece had to collect his thoughts while he fought the headache reverberating through his skull. "J & MC. At first I thought that meant some kind of company. It's not. It's a tribute to John and Mary Chambers. There are lots of places named after the Chambers in South Australia. Chambers Creek, Chambers Valley, and most importantly...Mount Chambers Gorge."

  "What's so special about that gorge?"

  "Don't you see? There are rock paintings there. Lots of them. Dozens and dozens of circles like we've been seeing."

  The others were listening, but still needed more convincing.

  "The paw," Reece said, "there's a rare breed of wallaby that lives in the Flinders region." He looked to the ceiling and smacked his hip to coax the answer from his mind.

  "The yellow-footed wallaby," Rick said. "Nearly went extinct a long time ago from people hunting them. They've made a comeback. That wallaby is native to the Flinders Ranges."

  "Yes!" Reece nearly shouted and pointed at their host. "That's it. Yellow-footed."

  "Okay," Sean said. "But what if this is just an ordinary paw? Wallabies are in three other places on this map."

  "Right. But the real key is the side we thought had been cut out, the one we believed was a mistake." Reece swiped the screen to see the image in question. "That's no mistake," he said. "It's a topographical map of the Flinders Ranges."

  Sean flipped the phone around in his hand and looked at it. Rick stood and looked over his shoulder, moving like a sloth in the trees.

  "He's right," Rick said. "Wouldn't have thought it unless you told me, but that's definitely an overhead view of the mountain range."

  "Looks like a massive crater," Tommy said as he leaned over Sean's other shoulder.

  "That's Wilpena Pound, one of the big attractions to the national park. That has to be the place. Mount Chambers Gorge. We have to go there next."

  Sean sucked in a big br
eath and let it out through his nose. His head rocked back and forth. "Okay. Let's do it."

  Ten minutes later, the visitors loaded into Rick's old Land Cruiser and prepared to leave.

  The plan was to get back to Reece's place, grab some more supplies, ammunition, and a vehicle, and then head to the mountains. It was a long drive, but Rick didn't seem to mind.

  "Not like I'm doing anything anyway," he said as he stuffed a bag in the back of the SUV.

  The engine grumbled to life, and a puff of smoke spat out of the tailpipe. Sean lingered near the house for a moment, looking out in the direction of Kings Canyon. Tommy walked over and joined his friend, putting his arm around his shoulders.

  He'd debated saying anything, but couldn't help himself. "You gonna be okay?"

  "The woman I love is out there, Schultzie," Sean said. "Her body is at the bottom of that river or washed up on the shore. So no, I'm not okay. I have to leave her here because no matter how hard I look, I won't find her. I know that. I have to live for the rest of my life with the image of her dying right in front of me.

  "All the skills and abilities I have...I couldn't save her. I have to live with that. Don't give me some speech about how it wasn't my fault, how she chose to come with us. I already know all that. It doesn't make it feel any better. And it doesn't heal the pain. No, I'm not okay. And I won't be. Even after I kill every single person responsible for this, I won't be."

  "I know," Tommy said. A tear escaped his left eye and streaked down his face. "I know. Killing the men who did this won't change the past. That said, we're going to kill them all."

  Sean gave a solemn nod. "Yeah. We are."

  30

  Sydney

  The corner of Annie's mouth trickled a thin line of crimson down to her chin. A distinct taste—like iron—covered her tongue. During her imprisonment, the men holding her captive hadn't touched her save to throw her in the room when she arrived. Even then it had been a gentle push.

 

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