Paranormal Mystery Boxset Books 1-3: Legends of Treasure

by Lois D. Brown

  Like poor Justin.

  Rod stood up when he saw Maria’s car pull in. He waited for her to get out of the driver’s side before walking over to her. Normally this is where he would have hugged her. Or kissed her. Or at least taken her hand. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets and said, “Hey.”

  “Rod, I didn’t mean for you to come all the way over. We could have talked on the phone. I just wanted to pick your brain for a minute.” Maria walked up the stairs to her front porch. Rod followed.

  “It’s all good. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. I do better with these things face to face.”

  Maria’s stomach flipped. “Oh.” In the excitement of the motorcycle chase, her Vegas nuptials to Rod had slipped her mind. Of course he would be anxious to talk about getting the annulment. It was probably eating at him from the inside out. “What do you need?”

  “No, you go first. You’re the one who called.” There was no hint that Rod wanted to enter the house.

  So, a porch conversation this would be. No problem. The sooner she asked Rod what she wanted to know, the sooner she could go in the house and research about Jarbidge, Nevada. “Karl Fossum. Do you remember him?”

  Rod blinked once. “Name rings a bell, but I can’t place where I’ve heard it.”

  “Karl is the man you and Pete helped me apprehend out at the creek. His face has been on flyers around town the last day or two.”

  Rod snapped his fingers. “Of course. The FBI thinks he might be the kidnapper?”

  “Well, he’s the only one I know with a criminal record who has a grudge against me and who knows I am good friends with Justin Hill.”

  “Has he been seen around town?”

  “Not in town, but around town? Yes. He was spotted by the reservoir again tonight. That’s the second time he’s been there. Agent Carter and I just followed up on a lead but came away empty-handed.”

  “He seemed like such an idiot. I’m surprised he’s being so elusive.”

  “He was high on who-knows-what the last time. He may be keeping himself sober to think more clearly. Whatever it is, he just ran circles around us in the hills by the reservoir.”

  “Really? What was he driving?”

  “A dirt bike.”

  “And what you were in?”

  “Agent Carter’s Tahoe.”

  Rod made a condescending tsk. “Of course he’d outrun you in that. You guys probably got into trouble on the sand.”

  “Yeah. Had to let the air out of the tires. Couldn’t find Fossum again after that, but I’m sure he must be hiding out somewhere outside of Kanab.”

  “Makes sense,” said Rod. “There’s a ton of nooks and crannies around those parts.”

  Maria sighed. “That’s not what I wanted to hear. I want you to tell me there is only one logical place he could be hiding and you know exactly where that is.”

  The corner of Rod’s mouth lifted. “Well …”

  “You and your brother Grant know these hills better than anyone. Where would you hide?”

  Rod scratched the back of his head. “That’s exactly the question I just asked myself. I’d want to be by water, to wash off with. The weather has been a scorcher, so I’d need some shade. And I’d need something to use to hide my dirt bike.”

  “All good points. Any place in mind?” Maria took a breath and let Rod think.

  Rod looked above Maria’s head, focusing on something that wasn’t there. His blue eyes reflected the porch light and Maria caught herself thinking just how enticing those eyes were.

  Used to be.

  But no longer were. At least not to her.

  Not one tiny bit.

  Right?

  “Crocodile Cave in Angel Canyon is where I’d hide,” Rod said at last. “It’s not too far from town, has an underwater spring, and plenty of foliage to hide a bike. It seems like the perfect place to me. But there is also Johnson Canyon where a person could hide, but not as comfortably.”

  A wide smile broke out on Maria’s face. “I knew you were the right person to ask.”

  It seemed Rod blushed, for just a second. “There’s no use sending anyone out there right now. It’s too dark. But I’ll have one of our search parties that have been combing the city head out to the area by Crocodile Cave tomorrow morning. I’ll have them hit Johnson canyon as well. Sound okay?”

  “Sounds awesome.” Maria couldn’t help herself from reaching out and squeezing his forearm. “It’s not that I don’t trust the FBI, but I feel like they’re not doing enough. This has dragged on way too long. We have to find him, Rod. We have to.”

  “Agreed.” Rod glanced down at her hand on his arm, and Maria quickly released it, pulling her hand back to her side.

  “Maria, we’ll find this guy, Fossum. If he’s around here Search and Rescue will get him.”

  “Thanks, Rod.” Maria pulled her shoulders back, trying to match Rod’s confidence in the matter. “So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” She braced herself for whatever it was he had to say. She figured it wouldn’t be anything warm and fuzzy, but honestly, at this point nothing really mattered to her except getting Justin back.

  With the side of his shoe, Rod scooted over a beetle that had found its way onto Maria’s front mat. “Well, this may be a moot point now, if you’re sure Fossum is your man.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mr. John Walden, the developer for the reservoir and my client, has been acting so strange lately. I wanted to talk to you about it. He says he’s leaving town tomorrow, for good. He’s pulling out of the project completely. I find that suspicious. Why would he do that in the middle of this kidnapping? I worry he knows something, or maybe that he’s even the kidnapper. I don’t know.” Rod ran his hand over his short hair. “Do I sound crazy?”

  Maria had not been expecting that from Rod. She’d been waiting for him to tell her she needed to sign on the dotted line to fix the embarrassing indiscretion the two of them shared on their ride home from Phoenix. “No,” Maria tried to regain her presence, “you don’t sound crazy at all. I agree with you. That is weird and sudden. I mean, he’s sunk how much time and money into the reservoir?”

  “A lot. I can’t believe he would want to walk away from it.”

  “Did Mr. Walden say why he was leaving?”

  “Not really.” Rod shrugged his shoulders. “He keeps repeating that he has to leave. One time he did tell me this place has been giving him nightmares.”

  “Real nightmares?” Maria knew plenty about those. Unfortunately for Mr. Walden (and herself), nightmares traveled with a person.

  “Kind of.” Rod squirmed. “I wouldn’t repeat this to anyone else but you, but he told me he thought the reservoir was haunted. But he could just be making that up.”

  “Haunted, as in ghosts?”

  “That’s the only kind of haunted I know about, but you’re the expert on that kind of stuff, not me. Let me just say, John’s mood didn’t get any better when the skeletons started popping out of the water. But still, is that really enough to convince him to waste all that time and money? I can’t imagine. There’s got to be something more.”

  The developer and Maria seemed to have more in common than Maria felt comfortable with. She too had been feeling the need to leave Kanab, and she too was certain there were spirits at the reservoir. How could there not be, with all those Native American graves about? But Maria didn’t have millions of dollars resting on getting the reservoir done. A few ghosts would never scare her away from anything.

  “I mean,” Rod interrupted Maria’s thoughts, “I guess it’s not that strange to want to leave. I’ve needed to get out of Kanab for a while now, too. But I have history here. John, he’s from Minnesota. Why wouldn’t he stay and finish the job, unless he was worried about being found out?”

  “I will look into Walden, but honestly, I don’t get you, Rod.” Maria bit her lip, trying to stop herself from saying anything that might make him feel bad. But she didn’t
bite hard enough. “You love this place. You could have chosen to practice law anywhere you wanted to, but you chose Kanab? Why? You have roots here. The people love you and you love them. I don’t understand what has made you turn your back on the town and want to leave it behind you. I think you’re acting just as irrational as Walden.”

  Rod stared at her intently but didn’t say a word.

  “Anyhow,” Maria took a step toward her front door, “I will definitely talk with Walden tomorrow—just in case it might be connected to Justin’s kidnapping. I really appreciate you bringing it to my attention, and I can’t thank you enough for your help trying to find Fossum.” She paused. “I didn’t mean to get after you.”

  “Why don’t we go together to see Walden. I think it will be more natural that way. What time are you free tomorrow?” Rod couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands. First they were in his pockets and next they were clasped behind his back.

  “I’m meeting with Steven Veil in the morning. Sometime after that would work.” Maria went to open her front door. Standing on the porch felt so out of place.

  “Okay.” Rod took a few steps away from her, leaving an obvious chasm of space between them. “I’ll call you around lunchtime.”

  Maria looked into his face and wished, for a brief moment, that things were different. But life was full of disappointments, and she was pretty sure she would never find someone to love who loved her back. It was just the way it was.

  But finding Justin? That was a different story. She would not accept anything but success. Absolutely nothing.

  “Noon sounds good. Goodnight.” Maria turned the key and opened the front door and walked in.

  Rod didn’t leave her porch until she was in the house with the front door shut and locked. Maria noted to herself that chivalry wasn’t lost on Rod, even if everything else was.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  According to Fenn, many people have claimed to have found the treasure, but no one has provided any evidence to him supporting their claim. Forrest reconfirmed searchers have been within 200 feet of the treasure and many within 500 feet.

  “WHERE TO FIND FENN’S TREASURE IN NEW MEXICO” (VIDEO), AUGUST 9, 2017, HTTPS://AGYPSYSKISS.WORDPRESS.COM/

  In the early hours of the morning, sleep came accidently to Maria. She was only going to close her eyes for minute—just a quick break from her research on Jarbidge. Bent over the kitchen table, her head resting on her arms, her breathing steadied and her mind shut down.

  Except for her dreams.

  Ryan’s clothes were in tatters. Rips in his pants. Yellow and brown stains on his shirt. They had brought him to her.

  Did they suspect their relationship was more than professional? How could they? She had given no clue, not one tiny slip that Ryan meant more to her than being a co-worker.

  “Tell her.” A guard shook Ryan by the shoulder. “Tell her what you told us.”

  Ryan’s face was a blank mask, as if emotions had never been invented. “I told them the other names of the other members of our unit.”

  A sneer from the guard. “Tell her the names. She will see her stubbornness has been wasted.”

  “Kent Tyler, JoAnn Rigy, and Gabe Ford.”

  Pretend. All of them. No such people existed. But how should Maria respond? What would make these people leave Ryan alone?

  She hated the games, the guessing, not knowing. It seemed everything she did was wrong. This time, she would let them think Ryan had betrayed her and was now loyal to them. It would keep him safe.

  Maria’s face blackened. Her voice lowered. “How could you? How could you do that to the team?”

  Ryan said nothing but stared past her at the mold that was growing on the wall where sewage dripped into Maria’s cell.

  “You cannot stop us,” said the guard. A bite of his breakfast hung from his beard. His clothes were just a dirty as Ryan’s. How had these men developed such a power complex? It was what they craved, yearned for, and desired.

  It was pathetic. They were the weakest of individuals she had ever encountered.

  The guard pulled out a partially filled water bottle with the label torn off. Inside was a brown liquid. “Give me your hand.”

  Ryan held out his hand, and the guard put the water bottle into it.

  “Your choice. You drink it or she does. I don’t care.”

  Their gaze met. Ryan’s eyes were listless and dead. Maria’s were filled with intensity.

  “Give it to me, Ryan. The bottle is mine.” Maria took a step closer.

  The guard held out his palm and shook his finger. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Come no closer unless I say so.”

  Ryan looked down at the bottle.

  “Ryan. Give it to me, now. That’s an order.”

  Her comrade … no … her friend, unscrewed the plastic lid and raised it to his lips.

  “Drink every drop. Don’t stop.” The guard cocked his head to one side and laughed. The same, gutless laugh most of the guards used. They were so predictable.

  Ryan swallowed the liquid. Again and again until the bottle was empty.

  The coughing began immediately. Ryan raised his fist and pounded at his chest. “I’m burning,” he gasped.

  Maria took another step forward. She had to. She must do something.

  The guard turned on her. “I told you not to move.” He called out in a loud voice, “Baradar!”

  Another man entered who had been waiting near the door in the hallway by Maria’s cell.

  “Beat this woman,” said the guard to the newcomer “until she either begs for help or faints. I don’t care which.”

  All the while, Ryan beat his chest and convulsed. Face red, mouth screwed up in horror. For the first time since he’d walked into Maria’s cell she saw emotion in Ryan’s eyes—desperation.

  The first guard grabbed under Ryan’s arm and began to drag him from the room.

  A dark haze filled the air, and Maria felt her world spinning.

  Ryan, merely a shadow now, turned around and with a voice that permeated the room said, “I’m alive, Maria, I’m alive. Help me.”

  As Maria awoke from the dream with a start, her right arm tingled from the lack of blood flow from her awkward side sleeping position. Despite the numbness, she grabbed her cell phone, and breathing heavily, pulled up the number for her closest friend still at the CIA. She typed a text message.

  Doug, is there any chance Ryan Anderson is still alive in Tehran, regardless how improbable? –Maria B.

  “Okay, people, Steven Veil will be here in just a few minutes.” Agent Carter addressed Maria and Floyd. “Your job is not to question him, that’s up to me. You two are here to be flies on the wall. Look for reactions, nuances in what Veil says, that sort of thing. Got it?”

  Maria and Floyd both said “yes” and Agent Carter continued. “From research we have, Veil is eighty-two years old. He hid the treasure when he was seventy-four. He’s a bit of an eccentric firecracker from what we gather, and he has adamantly refused to tell anyone where the treasure was hidden for eight years. My job is to break his code of silence. I want to know the location described in the riddle so I can make sure Justin’s kidnapper isn’t hiding him there, though it’s highly improbable.”

  “Why did Veil write the riddle in the first place?” asked Maria. “What was his goal? To cause problems?”

  “According to the information gathered,” said Carter, “his wife left him twenty years ago. I’m sure he wasn’t the easiest man to be married to. His only child died overseas. Veil decided since he didn’t have any family to leave the money to, he’d make a game out of it. The man had always been obsessed with treasure hunting and that sort of thing. Not that that is a great explanation for hiding his life savings in a chest somewhere. I still think he’s got to be on the crazy side.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” said Agent Carter.

  An elderly gentleman accompanied by a middle-aged man shuffled into the room.
Steven Veil’s stooped frame was dressed in wrinkled khakis and a long-sleeved, button-up shirt. He raised his head to peer at the group through the top portion of his bi-focal glasses. Lifting his hand, he waved like a beauty queen in a parade. “Hello.” He was the ultimate geriatric version of Mr. Rogers—a show Maria had loved as a child.

  Veil’s companion was taller, a little less rumpled looking, and had partially graying hair with mounds of developing wrinkles. He addressed the group without a wave, but instead kept his grip underneath Veil’s armpit as they made their way to the two open chairs at the table. As they walked he said, “I’m Nathan Porter, Steven’s personal assistant, and I help Steven with his affairs.”

  “And I’m Agent Carter. Floyd Hoyt, an FBI analyst, is also joining us as, well as Maria Branson, the police chief of Kanab.”

  Once the men settled in their chairs, Agent Carter got right down to business. “Steven, you’ve been very hard to contact, but we kept trying because we have some important questions we need answers to. We think you might know some of those answers. I understand each of you have signed the documents acknowledging you are aware we’re recording this conversation?”

  Both men nodded.

  Agent Carter continued, “And that everything you say may be used in a trial of law? We are clear in this matter?”

  “We are clear,” said Steven, who fidgeted in his chair, trying to scoot it in closer to the table.

  Agent Carter pushed a piece of paper with the Veil riddle typed onto it in front of Steven. “Do you recognize this?”

  Steven glanced down and said, “Sure do.”

  “And?” Agent Carter waited for Steven to continue.

  “And what?” Steven asked.

  “Well, what is it?”

  “What you seek is in a bottle of fun,” began Steven, “with one player miss—”