She had to remember he would be returning to Scotland, and the feds would never let her leave the country. She didn’t jump on his welcome suggestion but continued sucking on her water bottle. “If you’d scanned your journals into a computer, you could search a lot easier.”
“One of a kind, handwritten books, many in Latin,” he reminded her. “We can’t tear them apart to run through a scanner. It would have to be done by hand, one page at a time.”
“Then create a bunch of diamonds and hire someone to do just that,” she said querulously.
He sighed and leaned over to kiss her. She eagerly drank in the pleasure, knew she shouldn’t succumb, but before she could push away, he backed off.
“You’re being deliberately irrational,” he told her. “One tiny pebble out of a sea of them does not equate to a fortune. None of the other stones responded in kind. And any way you look at it, it’s a fake diamond. Do you want me to leave?”
“I want to apologize for invading your head,” she said with a scowl. “I didn’t know I could do it.”
“Just don’t ever do it again.” He didn’t release her but waited.
Edgy and uncomfortable, she thought about that, and shook her head. “I can’t promise that. What if you’re in danger?”
He growled and got up to stalk the room as she’d done earlier. “I grew up with women who kept warning me not to do this, that, or the other because their prescience saw disaster. If they’d had their way, I’d live in a cave and never leave. There’s a reason mankind ignores weird abilities and sticks to what they can see for themselves.”
“Diamonds aren’t real enough for you?” she asked, uncertain how to take his reaction.
“It’s an artificial diamond,” he insisted. “No matter what a jeweler’s loupe says. It might refract like a real diamond, have the density and thermal conductivity of a real stone, but I made it. It’s not natural, therefore it’s artificial. And I do not intend to end up in jail like the company’s chemist. My family has enough problems without adding me to them.”
“Fine then, you made an artificial diamond. It’s still something you could see and hold in your hand. It’s not woo-woo. It was real. Prescience is a little more difficult because it’s in the eyes of the interpreter. And what you did relied on a particular stone. You can’t turn any stone into a diamond. So that should be right down your alley, learning the properties of that particular stone.”
“Waving a hand over pebbles and declaring them hot is not scientific,” he said morosely. “And this is getting us no closer to the journals or the criminals.”
“Yes, it is. We now know one journal has a formula for creating precious stones, that it’s quite possible your ancestors were experimenting with what you call your curse, and that someone besides your chemist is probably trying to duplicate the results.”
He stopped pacing to stare at her. “Do you think the commune’s crystals may have been created that way—by someone with the family curse?”
“And Lucinda’s compendium told them which crystals to use?” Mariah sat up excitedly. “And one of your family is in the café mural!”
“Trevor Gabriel, the guru fraud.” Keegan dropped down beside her. “Expletive deleted,” he muttered.
“He’s dead,” Mariah reminded him. “What are the chances that his descendants have the curse?”
“As far as I know, the genetic odds aren’t good unless one of his wives, mistresses, whatever are also a descendant of my family. I’ve never studied a family tree. Our company chemist might have some family connection, but I wasn’t aware of it.” He gathered her against him. “Bed. We’ll think clearer in the morning.”
Mariah considered that a most excellent proposition. Otherwise, she would be compelled to find a computer and hunt down the formula his chemist claimed to have.
She could probably do it, if she didn’t mind losing her soul or never leaving Hillvale again.
July 12: Thursday morning
Keegan glared at the newly cleaned mural on the café wall. All the young people in their long hair and hippie wardrobes looked bright and vibrant now that decades of grease and smoke had been painstakingly removed. He’d like to think Trevor Gabriel looked malevolent even with the red eyes recently repainted to brown, but he wasn’t that imaginative. Trevor looked like any other college kid.
“Trevor could have brought the crystals with him,” Keegan suggested. “Maybe his family stole them in the first place.”
“The evil is old,” Tullah intoned from her booth, where she sat with Amber and Brenda, the retired nurse. “It has seeped into the land and spread through the vortex. If anything, the land polluted the crystals.”
“Not helpful,” Keegan muttered.
Mariah patted his hand. “We all come from different places with different perspectives. Tullah comes from the land of voodoo. Teddy knows jewelry. You know minerals. Teddy and Harvey helped you identify the blue stone because of their different backgrounds, not because they’re scientific.”
He’d always thought he’d had both feet solidly on the ground, but Hillvale had upended him. Oddly, the most mystic of Hillvale’s residents was grounding him now. He wrapped her braid around his hand and let memories of last night soothe his churning gut. Sex with Mariah was almost an out-of-body experience, but his body certainly appreciated it.
Walker took the empty counter stool on Keegan’s other side. Sam slid him a coffee mug and the police chief gulped caffeine before speaking.
“Thompson was shot with a long-range rifle, approximately the evening of the same day you were shot. He’d been let out on bail the night before. The person paying his bond paid cash and used a fake ID. Thompson’s wife claims to know nothing of his friends or who bailed him out.” Walker sipped his coffee and scowled at the mural the same way Keegan had done.
“We need a mind reader,” Mariah said, getting up to help Sam behind the counter.
“A circus clown and unicorn as well,” Keegan retorted.
“Amber, read Keegan’s cards and tell him how many ways he’s an asshat,” Mariah called to the tarot lady.
Looking like an orange-haired Gypsy in her flowing skirt, bracelets, and rings, Amber laughed. “I’d be happy to, but he hasn’t asked.”
Harvey took the seat Mariah had just abandoned. “Caldwell Edison checked out of the lodge yesterday. Kurt is looking at computer records to see if there are any others who regularly stay there when Edison does.”
“We’re pinpointing Edison why?” Walker asked as Sam slid him a plate of what appeared to be pancakes with eggs, pickles and onions on top.
Keegan thought it resembled an Asian dish he’d once sampled. Dinah aimed for comfort food for every nationality, apparently.
“Because Teddy says Edison is hiding guilt,” Sam said cheerfully. “We don’t like him, and his father used to live in the commune.”
“All perfectly logical reasons,” Walker said sourly. “I’m really glad I don’t have to report to the sheriff anymore.”
Sam leaned over and kissed his cheek. “What would you do without us?”
“Write nicely researched reports, complete with footnotes and annotations to real evidence,“ Walker said, but the chief’s mood had lifted.
Keegan glanced over at Mariah taking cash at the register. As if she sensed his gaze—or his thoughts—on her, she looked his way and winked. Just that tiny gesture of recognition raised his spirits, and other parts. He was in serious trouble here. With his father’s health at stake, he had to go home soon. Given what he suspected about Mariah, he doubted if she could leave this hiding place.
“Does the sheriff have everything he needs from the cave?” Keegan asked, finishing his coffee.
“Yeah, there’s not much we can pry from stone and trampled dust. We have the bullet. We’re tracking the gun. If we could match the make with someone who has a bow hunting license, we’d be getting somewhere.”
“Except criminals generally don’t bother with licenses.
” Keegan stood and laid his cash on the counter. “Since I’m the only one not working, I guess I’ll be the one who goes back down there to examine rocks.”
Mariah looked alarmed. “You can’t go alone. What if the killers are back?”
Keegan gave her his blackest glare.
Apparently remembering their conversation about prescience and not taking warnings, she glared right back. Fair enough. She could threaten to invade his head all she liked. That wouldn’t keep him from what needed to be done. And that crevasse had to be explored.
“Walker, is it safe?” Mariah demanded.
The police chief shrugged. “The shooter isn’t likely to return to the scene of the crime.”
“I have time. I can go with you. Tourists don’t show up until afternoon.” Harvey gulped down his poached egg and water.
“I’m not turning rocks to gems,” Keegan warned. “When I want diamonds, I can look for real ones.”
“Diamonds need provenance, just like art,” Harvey said with a shrug. “I’m just curious. I didn’t get to explore yesterday. I’ll fetch my backpack and stock up on water.”
“Radios,” Walker said unclipping his. “I don’t know if it transmits to town from the canyon, but it will from the farm. I’m counting on the two of you to be sensible and get the hell out if there’s any evidence that the bad guys have returned.”
Practical, Keegan could accept. He really didn’t want Mariah inside his head again.
“I can still borrow Daisy’s cart. It’s charged up,” Mariah called as Keegan followed Harvey out.
Of course she could. Her bruised knee was healing rapidly, but another day of hiking would hurt. He raised a hand in acknowledgment that the warning meant he’d better not take too long and tempt her to follow.
She didn’t have to be inside his head for him to understand her. Weird.
Harvey met him at City Hall, where they’d parked the ATV. The musician climbed on the back with the ease of experience. “I used to have one of these, but they messed with my hearing. Maybe I should take up horses.”
“Or put mufflers on your engine. Are you carrying weapons?” Unfastening the Velcro of his sling so he had two hands free, Keegan put the engine in gear.
“Staff and knife, as always. You expecting trouble? Because I’m not much of a fighter,” Harvey shouted over the roar.
“Just being prepared.” Keegan had learned to travel armed, but his weapons were close range too.
Once they drove off-road, Harvey directed him to a different path, one that didn’t require traipsing across the valley. Keegan turned the ATV off behind the protection of a stack of boulders.
“You know this country pretty well?” Keegan hated suspecting everyone, but he no longer trusted his instincts.
“Spent the summers here with my granddad.” Harvey adjusted his backpack and took the lead. “I’ve spent the last year or so relearning the old paths. This one would have been more accessible from the commune if Gump hadn’t blown up Boulder Rock.”
Keegan had heard the story of the mad land developer who’d rearranged the commune with explosives and nearly killed a lot of people. He had to wonder if evil wasn’t in the water. “Do you think Samantha and her aunt will sell the land now that Daisy isn’t living there?”
Harvey shrugged. “It’s not as if they’re receiving offers. Kurt had plans for it back when he thought the family trust owned it, but he doesn’t have the cash to buy it on his own.”
With a surprised whistle, Harvey abruptly halted. Keegan side-stepped him to look down the hillside.
Half hidden by a throne of boulders below was Val, long black veil rustling in the meager breeze.
“At least she’s not moaning,” Harvey muttered.
“Is she sane?”
“Sometimes. Let’s see what surprise she has for us today.”
Before Harvey could push past him, Keegan noted the book in Val’s lap—a slender volume, faded black with crumbling binding. He recognized a family journal instantly.
Twenty-three
July 12: Thursday, mid-morning
The journalists were back, making bets on who could identify all the mural portraits, while asking questions about Thompson’s death.
Not wanting to be noticed, Mariah removed her apron and slipped through the kitchen. “Sorry to desert you, Dinah, but the crowd is slowing down.”
“I been handling that café for years before you got here,” Dinah assured her. “Most of them out there now just want coffee. You go on and do what you need to do.”
Sam followed her back, taking off her apron. “Teddy says Kurt has finished stripping the mural in the ice cream parlor. Let’s check it out.”
Mariah couldn’t quite comprehend the suit-and-tie resort owner descending to the filthy work of stripping paint. Now that she knew Keegan wasn’t a Null, she had to return the Null-of-all-Nulls prize to Kurt. She wasn’t convinced he’d chosen to uncover the exuberantly cheerful mural just for Teddy. She had a notion he was flipping off his controlling mother in the process. Carmen certainly had been scarce in town since Kurt had moved out of the lodge and in with Teddy.
Teddy and Kurt were in the ice cream parlor, cleaning the mural that covered the entire back wall. To Mariah’s surprise, so was Susannah, Sam’s mother. The older woman was wiping away a surreptitious tear when they entered. Sam immediately crossed the room to hug her. Sam had grown up with loving parents and knew how to do that sort of thing.
Mariah didn’t, so she stuck with what she knew. “Wow, that’s some high-end graffiti.” She admired the colorful rainbow adorned by a VW van, unicorns, dashing knights, and assorted figures apparently costumed as the artists thought of themselves. Lars Ingersson and his wife had been identified as the long-haired van driver and passenger. A very young Lance and Valdis on a unicorn followed the van at the center of the rainbow. Mariah studied the newly uncovered prone figure in a loose linen suit at the end of the rainbow holding a flower in his hand with a look of bliss on his face—the one apparently causing Susannah to cry. “That’s one happy camper.”
“That’s Zachary, Samantha’s dad,” Susannah said, retreating to one of the small tables.
Stunned, Samantha choked and stared.
Mariah knew Sam had been adopted and knew next to nothing of her father, except that Cass had raised him. Apparently undemonstrative Cass hadn’t thought to give Sam photos.
Finally unfreezing, Sam glanced at her mother, then circled behind the ice cream counter for a better look. “Was he tall, like me? We don’t look much alike.”
“He had your wavy hair and blue eyes, and yes, he was over six feet tall.” Susannah produced a Kleenex. “I’d heard that wall had been painted over and thought I might be safe returning here without churning up too many memories. I’d not expected to find a daughter and see your father again.”
Mariah exchanged glances with Teddy. How did they handle this? Susannah looked devastated. Sam was enthralled. Kurt was looking a little shaky as well. He’d only been acting in defiance and couldn’t have expected any of this.
“Drinks all around?” Mariah whispered.
“I wish.” Kurt leaned over the counter and ordered coffee for everyone while the poor clerk watched them in puzzlement.
Sam returned to her mother’s table to sit down. “Why? I’ve been trying not to ask, but why did you give me up?”
Susannah dabbed at her face with the Kleenex. “That image is one of the many reasons. I painted it before we married. He’s wearing his wedding suit. He always wore jeans and shorts but for that one day, he dressed up for me. The next time I saw him wearing it was in his casket. That was the only time your father ever looked peaceful.”
Mariah bit her finger rather than speak out. The image did look particularly blissed out. Zachary had been an addict, she remembered. He’d died of an overdose.
Sam looked shaken but still puzzled. “That portrait is as good as any of the others on there. You’re a talented artist. I don�
�t understand. . .”
Susannah spoke bitterly. “I painted that portrait years before we married. Zach never looked peaceful, not even on our wedding day. He was always on edge, hyper. He’d play his electric guitar all night, working off that energy. Even on drugs, he couldn’t sit still. I have no idea what made me paint it. I was probably only sixteen at the time, cocky with my talent and new love. He got a kick out of it, so maybe he bought the suit to match the painting, I don’t know. But that isn’t Zach on our wedding day. That’s Zach at his funeral.”
Mariah winced. Sam looked stunned.
“You painted your future husband at his funeral?” Sam finally asked. “A prescient painting, like Lucinda’s?”
Susannah wiped fiercely at her face and straightened her shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t want to find out. I quit painting after the funeral. My parents were dead. The farm was in default. I figured I was cracking up. Hillvale was cursed as far as I could tell. The Moons desperately wanted a baby. They were the most stable, sane people I knew. They were established teachers and artists, with a good income, so if you inherited the talent, they could guide you better than I could. And they promised to raise you somewhere so benign that you’d never have to suffer the horrors I did. And from what you’ve told me, they gave you the childhood you needed.”
Sam leaned over to hug her mother. “They gave me a perfect childhood. I never really wondered about my birth parents until Jade and Wolf died. I’m sure you did the right thing. But I don’t understand. . . why would you give up painting?”
“What if I painted your death?” Susannah cried. “Or even Cass’s? Lucinda painted pretty pictures. I painted dead people!”
Mariah sipped the coffee Kurt handed her and waited for someone else to state the obvious. When no one did, she thought maybe only people who dealt with the remains of dead people on a regular basis would understand.
Crystal Vision Page 21
