“Not so good. You know my hallucinations?”
“Y-yes.”
“They’re back.”
Maria spent the next night walking the streets again. This time she was prepared and wore only shorts and a tank top. Beth was on her way, and Maria could hardly wait to feel like she wasn’t alone. Maria had to give her deposition at the station today, and Rod’s bail hearing was set for that afternoon as well. If Melissa was right and Rod had loads of money, he would probably meet bail. Then where would he go? Back to Brian’s house with her?
That was not an option. Beth had expressed her confidence in Rod, but she hadn’t been there. She hadn’t seen the skeleton. She hadn’t heard the awful entries from Dakota’s journal. It was like Maria had been dating Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Nothing made sense.
Maria’s watch beeped at 5:30 a.m. Time to head back to Brian’s. As she rounded the corner, a Ford Escort parked on the side of the road about a block from Brian’s house caught her eye. The average-looking car was out of place in the high-end neighborhood. Brian was in the front passenger seat. A woman Maria didn’t recognize was behind the wheel. A hat masked her facial features. Even though Maria couldn’t see who it was, the woman’s long hair was a giveaway it wasn’t Amy.
Maria ducked behind a well-groomed desert bush, keeping a watch on the Escort. Brian leaned over and embraced the woman. They took their sweet time. Maria stayed hidden as Brian finally got out of the car and walked down the street to the driveway of his own house. The car drove off, Maria noting the license plate. Disgusted, she sighed and shook her head.
Once a playboy, always a playboy.
But it wasn’t Maria’s problem. She had enough to deal with. She wouldn’t bring it up to Amy. Besides, the woman probably already knew.
Men.
Why do we bother?
Beth sat in the waiting room while Maria gave her deposition to the investigating detective. The two friends had spent the entire morning going over every detail of the last few days. The only detail Maria left out was the part about her and Rod seeing Dakota’s ghost. Beth didn’t know that particular fact about her best friend. Maria had purposely left out her ghost-seeing abilities during their late-night chats.
After the deposition, Maria and Beth were led into an eight by eight sterile room that contained four chairs and a table. Nothing else. Maria and Beth sat in silence waiting. Eventually Rod was led into the room, handcuffed and sporting an orange jumpsuit.
It sent a jolt of pain to Maria’s gut to see Rod dressed that way. This was going to be harder than she thought.
“Hey,” Rod said. Color was back in his face. His acute shock had worn off, only to have been undoubtedly replaced with chronic anxiety.
“Hi.” Maria’s gaze dropped to the tile floor. She chided herself and raised them back up to meet Rod’s pleading look.
“Thanks for coming,” he said. The guard that was holding Rod’s arm from behind pushed him forward to an empty chair across the table from the two women. Once Rod was seated, the guard took his place in the corner of the room.
“How are you?” Maria asked Rod.
“Been better.”
“Yeah, me too.” Did she sound natural? No. There was no reason to engage in small talk if she was going to make it not even sound sincere. “Listen, I’ve got to know, did you kill her?”
“Maria.” Beth spoke in her take-it-easy voice and rested a hand on Maria’s arm. “Why don’t we start with something a little less intense? For example, Rod, do you need anything?”
Rod shook his head. “Brian brought me all my toiletries yesterday. I’m fine. And Maria’s right. She deserves an answer, which is absolutely no. I didn’t kill her.” He tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. “All that stuff at the … where we found Dakota … it was crazy.” He sighed. “Maria, none of that was real. Someone put it there. We have to prove that.”
Today he was acting like her old Rod. A clear-thinking problem solver.
But was he also the world’s best liar?
Suddenly, the door opened and Melissa walked in dressed in dark suit slacks and a business blouse. Her hair sat in a tight bun on top her head. “Lucky I was here.” She sat down by Rod. “I hate to have my clients talk to anyone not in my presence.”
“It’s Maria,” Rod said. “When you told me not to talk to anyone, I thought you meant from the police.”
“No,” Melissa responded, “I meant anyone, including old girlfriends.”
Old girlfriends? True, their relationship wasn’t the best right now (okay, it was awful), but when did she become yesterday’s news? Besides that, Maria should get to be the one to break up with Rod, not the other way around.
“You must be Melissa,” said Beth, holding out her hand and giving Melissa a hearty shake. “I’m Beth. I’ve known Rod forever, since we were kids. I can’t believe someone is doing this to him.”
“That’s the same thing I want twelve jurors to say once this thing is all over.” Melissa opened up her notebook. “I guess there are some things we can discuss with … everyone … present. Dakota’s remains have been sent to forensics. They say it’s going to be a week for anything definitive, but from the condition of the bones they’re not hopeful there will be any DNA left.”
The woman was all business. It amazed Maria that Melissa could so easily compartmentalize client from friend.
“With no DNA or dental record match, the prosecution only has circumstantial evidence—the wallet, wedding ring—that sort of stuff. I know it looks bad to us, but jurors like science, not a tour through the lost and found. As long as Dakota’s skull doesn’t turn up, we’re . . .”
Maria couldn’t listen anymore. One by one, a handful of decapitated ghosts had wandered into the already cramped room. Since they had no faces, Maria couldn’t tell if they were menacing or not. But their headless bodies were certainly no party to look at. Dr. Roberts had assured her it was an expected relapse because her stress levels were so high and she wasn’t sleeping. But she felt like a failure. Even the sharp pain throbbing in the toe that Joe almost cut off didn’t dull the images.
Melissa continued to drone about all that Rod had “going” for him with the case. Rod appeared attentive, but every few seconds his eyes would dart to where Maria sat. Clearly he wanted to talk to her, not Melissa.
“Even so,” Melissa continued, “they refused to set bail. They consider you a flight risk—probably because you have so much freaking money they knew no reasonable bail would keep you here.”
“Hey,” Rod interrupted at last, “Maria only has a few minutes of visiting time left. Could we discuss this after she leaves?”
“Oh.” Melissa sat back in her chair. “Certainly.” She looked back and forth between Rod and Maria as if to say, “Okay, so talk.”
“I think I’ll step out now,” said Beth, clearing her throat. “Would you like to grab a water with me, Melissa?”
The criminal lawyer scowled but stood. “Fine. But Rod, you’re not allowed to say one thing about the case, do you hear me? There are some things better left unsaid.”
As the two women left the room, Maria hoped the headless hallucinations would leave as well, but they didn’t. Don’t look at them, she told herself. They’re not real.
Rod reached across the table in an attempt to hold Maria’s hand, but she pulled hers to her lap. “I’m not ready for that.”
He swallowed loudly. “I’m sorry. I got the impression when Beth was talking that you didn’t think . . .”
“Beth doesn’t think you did it. I … I don’t know. I like facts. Logic. Proof. Rod, you don’t have any of that to say you’re innocent.”
“True.” His shoulders sagged and he looked like she’d broken his spirit. “But I can’t find any facts to prove I’m innocent while I’m in prison. Someone is going to have to do that for me. Maria, you’re the only one who can make this right. You’ve seen Dakota’s ghost. Talk to her. Ask her if I did it. Find out
the truth, Maria. Because this,” he waved to his orange jumpsuit, “is not it.”
Rod had a good point, if she could strike up a conversation with Dakota’s ghost, who looked much more real than the headless ghost saddled up to Rod right now, maybe she could get answers. At the very least, she could go back to the scene of the crime with a different focus—one to prove him innocent, not guilty. Who knew, she may uncover something. Or maybe she’d find something that would cement his guilt. Either way, she would know.
“I’ll try,” said Maria, “but I’ll tell you right now, I haven’t seen Dakota since the sunrise we watched together. Maybe she was hanging around until someone found her body. She might be gone.”
“She’s not.” Rod’s eyes grew wide and he leaned forward from across the table. “She’s got to still be floating around. And you’re going to make her talk to you.”
Maria stood up to leave. “Okay. If I see her I’ll do my best to communicate. I’ll come by again tomorrow. I’m not sure how much more time I can take off work in Kanab, but I’ll do my best.”
Rod placed his head into both of his hands. “This is going to work out.” He wasn’t talking to Maria, but to himself. “It has to.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Thorne’s greed cost him his life, as years later he would return for more gold on his own. Thorne managed to find the goldmine, as he had taken note of a strangely shaped rock formation as his blindfold was removed. Although he managed to take the gold, he was killed by the Apache on his journey home.
“SEARCHING FOR THE GOLD OF THE LOST DUTCHMAN MINE IN SUPERSTITION MOUNTAIN,” BY ANCIENT ORIGINS, MAY 14, 2016. (ONLINE)
“When should we go back to the mountain where you found the skeleton?” Beth had spent the last several hours convincing Maria that a return trip to the Superstitions was in order. She was positive they were going to find something to prove Rod’s innocence.
Maria wasn’t quite so sure. But she figured it gave her something to do except worry, and if Rod was guilty, it might be the best way to find out. Logically, it might be the best place to get a visit from Dakota’s ghost, and Maria had some questions for her.
“If we’re really going to go, we should do it early tomorrow morning to avoid the heat, but I’m not sure I can find the place again. I was in shock when I came off the mountain, and I didn’t pay attention to where I was.”
“Could any of Rod’s friends help us?”
Maria thought a moment. “It’d have to be Derrick. He seems to know the mountains the best.”
“Well,” said Beth, “give him a call.”
Maria finally got Derrick on the phone by late afternoon. After a cursory exchange of hellos—Paul Bunyan wasn’t a small-talk kind of guy—Maria blurted out, “Could you help me find the place Dakota’s skeleton was found? Some directions or maybe you have the GPS coordi—”
“I’d be happy to help.” He paused then added, “But first we should get permission from the Keepers. I could set up a meeting with them tonight. The lodge is open.”
“What lodge?” asked Maria.
“The Keepers’ lodge.”
“Who are the Keepers?” Maria had never heard of that organization before.
“The Keepers. They’re a group of . . .” Derrick stopped his sentence prematurely. “Never mind. I’ll explain tonight. Meet me at the Chevron in Apache Junction where we filled up with gas. We’ll go to the lodge together. Seven o’clock?”
“Sure.” Maria hung up the phone and turned to Beth. “You free tonight?”
“I’m yours,” answered Beth.
“I think we’re about to meet the real significant other in Derrick’s life.”
The Keepers’ lodge was an ugly brick rambler house built sometime in the 1970s. The cement on the front porch was crumbling, and the lawn was all but dead from lack of care. Why it was called a lodge was baffling. Maria had expected a woodsy, rustic cabin on a forested estate—something up Brian’s alley. The only thing that looked expensive was the BMW parked on the street in front of the house—Derrick’s car most likely.
As Maria rang the doorbell, Beth glanced at her and made a grimace. “I can already tell this is going to be weird.” Paint flakes from the peeling front door peppered the worn welcome mat.
“I’m with you.” Maria nodded.
Derrick opened the door. He looked from Maria to Beth, than back to Maria. He bit his bottom lip and said, “You’re not alone?”
“Hi.” Beth reached out her hand and gave Derrick her robust Beth-shake. “I’m Maria’s ‘bestie.’ I’m here to help her with … well … all this crap that’s going on.”
That is why Beth was so awesome. She said it like it was.
“Materfamilias will not be pleased. She doesn’t like surprises.” Derrick still hadn’t invited the two women in.
If there was one thing that drove Maria crazy, besides her hallucinated ghosts, it was someone who wasted her time. “Derrick, meet Beth.” She swooped her arm as if she was giving a grand introduction to the king’s court. “We drove an hour to see you. We’d love you to be our guide in the Superstitions because you know your stuff. But if there’s a problem, we can figure out another plan and not bother—”
“Invite them in.” A woman’s voice with a slight accent came from inside the house.
Derrick hesitated but then opened the door all the way. The two women walked into the entranceway that merged into a dingy living room void of couches, coffee tables, or televisions. Instead there were picnic benches set in rows and one leather recliner near the front of the room in which an older woman sat. She was dressed in regular blue jeans and a traditional Mexican Huipil sleeveless blouse—white with vibrant red, yellow, and green embroidery work. But she herself didn’t seem Mexican, though where she was from Maria couldn’t tell. Deep set eyes, thin nose, a prominent forehead. What once must have been brilliantly bronzed skin was now deep with wrinkles and dry from exposure.
The older woman sported large fuzzy slippers, which looked unbearably hot in the non-air conditioned house. A noisy swamp cooler that didn’t seem to be doing any good hummed in the background.
“I am Sierra, Materfamilias of the Keepers. Derrick has told me of your interest in the Superstitions—my family’s mountain.”
Maria was about to answer the woman but was distracted by hundreds of maps of all sizes hanging from thumbtacks on the living room walls.
“I understand you wish to journey again this week to my mountains,” continued the older woman.
Slowly, what the Materfamilias was saying sunk in. Maria looked at her incredulously. “Your mountains?”
“Yes, my mountains. I already allowed you once into its depths. Why do you deserve to enter again?”
Wow. Wow. Wow. This lady actually thought she owned a state park. “I deserve to go to the Superstitions because I’m a U.S. citizen and it happens to be a state park—you know, an open-to-the-public-with-a-minimal-day-fee kind of place?”
“That’s where most Americans are wrong,” said Derrick. “It belonged to the Peralta family long before the United States stole it. Any treasure in those mountains is rightfully theirs.”
“I don’t care about any treasure.” Things were making a little more sense to Maria. The Keepers must be a group of hardcore gold hunters who were living in denial that the Mexican Cession in 1848 ever happened. “And if you really want to get technical about land ownership, then the Superstitions belonged to the Native Americans long before the Spanish in Mexico declared it theirs.”
Sierra shifted in the shabby recliner. “You didn’t answer my question. Why do you deserve to go in it again?”
Maria had no desire to debate this all night. She turned to look at Rod’s old classmate. “What are we doing here, Derrick?”
The Materfamilias answered for him. “If you want our protection in the mountains, then you need to get our approval to go into them. Who do you think kept your group safe the last time you entered the Superstitions?”
“Everyone is in danger in the Superstitions.” Sierra glared at Maria.
“How are they in danger?” Beth hadn’t been able to stay quiet any longer.
“The Keepers promise safety in your travels.” In a quieter voice the old woman added, “If you sign an agreement that any treasure you find is half ours.”
This was bordering on ridiculous, but better to play along than waste any more time. “Sure, you can have half the treasure I find. So we’re good to go?” Maria asked.
“Don’t be condescending. This is real. Why even the astute Rep. Lankin knows to ask for our permission before he ventures into the mountains.” Sierra shook her finger at Maria.
“Rep. Lankin?” asked Maria.
“Sure,” piped in Derrick. “He’s even rented a few of the maps.” He pointed to the living room wall behind him.
Perfect. These people even had a rent-a-treasure-map service. Maria had had enough. “Okay, so do we have your permission or not?”
The Materfamilias frowned. And harrumphed. “If you stay by Derrick at all times.”
“Gee, thanks.” This time it was Beth who was showing some attitude. Not Maria. “Do we have to pay to have him babysit us?”
Derrick frowned. “Meet me at the Chevron the day after tomorrow—let’s say 6 a.m. I’ll get you to where Dakota was killed.” Without another word Derrick walked over to an oscillating fan and began fiddling with the buttons.
“Thanks,” mumbled Maria. She and Beth showed themselves to the front door and let themselves out.
“Is Derrick brainwashed?” asked Beth as they descended the crumbling cement steps.
“For sure bamboozled.”
Beth laughed. “Now that is a great Kanab word.”
They walked a moment, and then Beth asked, “Are all of Rod’s old friends that weird?”
Paranormal Mystery Boxset Books 1-3: Legends of Treasure Page 35
