Hidden Sins

by Selena Montgomery

  Ethan stirred. “Qoppa? I don’t remember you mentioning that one yesterday.” He too focused on the drawing, brow furrowed. The symbol appeared on Poncho and Reverend Reed as well. “I thought it was a common symbol, not a letter.”

  “It’s obsolete. Hasn’t been used in centuries, except for ordinals. It represents the number ninety.” Mara added, “And zeta is seven, not six.” Mouth open to query, Lesley was forestalled by explanation. “Six is another obsolete letter. Trust me.”

  Deciding to do just that, she scratched the numbers onto her grid pad. The blue lines crisscrossed the page, forming hundreds of perfect, tiny blue boxes. On the drawing, intersecting the , two additional symbols swooped in bold ink. Lesley recognized kappa and a second zeta, and Mara confirmed that the combination represented the number twenty-seven. Surrounding the four numbers, a larger symbol dominated the page. The graceful circle had been accented by a sloping flag extending from the top of the curve. “Delta?” she mused aloud.

  “The circle?” Mara checked the expanse of highway before her, and seeing nothing, spared another look at the drawing. “I thought that it might be. If these are coordinates, then they are ninety-seven, twenty-seven. I vaguely remember high school geography, but that would be ninety-seven degrees latitude, twenty-seven degrees longitude, right.”

  “But if we add the five as a decimal point,” gnawing the pencil eraser, Lesley indicated the atlas, “we leave Austin heading west. Which makes sense, given the railroad depot. According to Ethan’s notes, the Missouri-Pacific rail ran north from San Antonio to Dallas after picking up cargo from horses traveling from Mexico.”

  “Which puts us where?”

  “In one of several small towns outside Austin. And nowhere closer to the key.”

  Mara drummed on the steering wheel, a thought tickling her memory. “Lesley, flip to the entry dated September 1937.”

  “Got it.” She began to read aloud.

  Poncho headed east with the Reverend, but I’m in no mood for church. Don’t believe the Lord would have me now anyways. I’ve ransomed my soul for pieces of gold, gold I may never see. For my betrayal, I descended into hell to hide my part. Probably will not return. With Guerva in the grave, don’t reckon there’s a point to it. It’s fitting, I suppose, that I said my last prayer in a cathedral. I drank from a fountain and asked for blessings. But I forgot to be sanctified.

  “He talks about descending into hell to hide his key, I think. Are there any places near Austin where a man could do that?”

  At Mara’s question, Ethan craned a look at the atlas. Tapping the star near Austin, he speculated, “They each took a key and headed out a day’s ride from the meeting place. In 1937, the only options would be a horse or a rather slow car.”

  “How slow?” asked Mara.

  “A horse that has to do a day’s ride will probably canter at about five mph, six, if he’s an Arabian or a mustang.”

  “At best,” Mara calculated swiftly, “a man could theoretically travel 144 miles in a single day.”

  “But if he’s only got twenty-four hours to go and turn around, that’s immediately cut to seventy-two miles,” added Lesley. “If he sleeps for even a couple of hours, he’s down to sixty miles.”

  “What’s out sixty miles from Austin, Lesley?” Ethan asked. “Or near the coordinates.”

  Following the line she drew on the web of highways, topographical markers, and the veins of waterways, her eyes lit upon the answer. “Caverns. Rocks.” Rapidly, breathlessly, she leafed through the pages to the section on parks and natural scenery, certain of what she would find. The page fell open, and she smiled broadly in satisfaction. “Wonder Cave. It’s in San Marcos, Texas. A straight descent with a well on the bottom level. Cave explorers used to drink from it for good luck. Called it the wishing well. And it lies at 97.52 degrees north, 27.56 degrees west.”

  “How far away is it?” Mara zipped the convertible around a crawling semi, excitement building. “How far?”

  “Thirty miles, give or take. More than enough time for the average horse to make it there and back to Austin.” Ethan extended his arm past Lesley, who bent low over the atlas to mark the coordinates. Needing to connect, he touched Mara’s shoulder. He squeezed the rounded muscles gently, running his thumb along the smooth, luminous skin.

  Pleased, she gave him a quick smile, filled with anticipation. “Well, partner, here we go.”

  Lesley hiked along the trail to the gift shop, eager to be inside. They’d stopped for flashlights and other gear, which Ethan put in a backpack slung across his shoulders. She had insisted on the detour, given that she knew the area well. At her insistence, her students made a pilgrimage to the formation once a semester. The entire area was dotted with signs welcoming tourists to Wonder World and offering tours of the cave from eight A.M. to eight P.M. In her hands, she clutched the portfolio where she’d made her own notes about Bailey’s possible hiding spot. “The cave is part of a tourist attraction. The only entry point is through the gift shop inside the amusement park.”

  “Amusement park? For a cave?” Mara scowled at the notion. “Seems a bit much for a bunch of rocks. No offense.”

  “None taken. The Wonder Cave is considered geologically significant because it is the only cave in America formed by an earthquake.” Lesley tossed off the fact as she rushed along the patch. “This entire area lies on the Balcones Fault Zone, one of the longest in the nation. Almost 350 miles, from Waco to the Rio Grande.” She added the last as she disappeared around a corner.

  “We’re on a fault line?” Astonished, Mara stumbled to a halt, and Ethan collided into her. Both teetered for balance, and he slid his arms around her waist to steady them both. The move pressed her against his chest, and she automatically braced flailing hands on rock-hard thighs. Warm breath whispered at her temple, and in sensory response her fingers clenched the muscled length. Harder.

  He could feel the imprint of her touch through the worn cotton. Instinctively, he contracted his hold, and firm, high breasts pressed into his forearm. For an instant they hung together, awareness rippling across flesh and sinking into bone.

  Mara sucked in a harsh breath. Being held by Ethan felt natural. Right. But Lesley was not more than ten feet ahead of them, and now was not the time for the thought and images shimmering in her mind. With difficulty, she broke contact and lurched away. “Thanks,” she murmured, then hurried to catch up with Lesley.

  Ethan followed, more slowly than the two. Confusion warred with frustration. Soon, he and Mara would have to discuss what was growing between them. And well before that, he owed Lesley clarity. As soon as he found it himself. While he’d made no promises to her, her presence pricked his conscience. She was now in harm’s way because he had begged for her help. Moreover, he couldn’t ignore the unspoken purpose of her visit, or at least, what he’d anticipated when he asked her to come. Light flirtation or serious intent. Like everything else in his life since Mara’s arrival, he hadn’t a clue.

  “Stop dawdling, Ethan.” At Lesley’s shouted instructions, he quickened his pace. They approached the entrance to the caverns, a crack in the ground that descended for nearly thirty feet. Reading the signs, Ethan felt his stomach pitch with disappointment. “The caves don’t open for hours. And if we have to go inside with a tour guide, we’ll never find what we’re looking for.”

  “I could distract the guards,” Mara volunteered. There was something inside, something they were meant to find. The thrill of potential discovery had her insides quaking with expectation, which warred with the thought of missing the big find. But, she reminded herself glumly, none of it mattered if they couldn’t go in. “I’ve got some experience with the classic bait and switch. Can you slip past them if I get them to leave their posts? You still need to get inside the gift shop, and they’re not open yet.”

  “Don’t have to. Remember, you brought me along for a reason.” Lesley fished inside the neat leather portfolio and emerged with a laminated badge. “Presto
!”

  “What is it?” Mara peered at the card, then a broad grin spread. “You have permanent access to the caves? How? Why?”

  The other woman smirked, delighted. “I’m a geologist employed by the largest university in the state. Plus, I bring my undergraduate classes here every semester. I’m a regular.”

  Mara released a breath that jittered in her throat. “What else do you know about the cave?”

  “Texas has more than 3,800 caves, but only a hundred or so are paleontologically or archeologically significant. Like I said, Wonder Cave is the only earthquake-created cave in the U.S. Approximately sixty-five million years ago Austin and the rest of this part of Texas lay beneath a shallow sea. Then the earth began to move, an earthquake hit, and the cave was formed.”

  At the repeated mention of the fault line, Mara squirmed. She wished she’d paid better attention in high school. Having experienced a shaker in California, she was in no hurry to repeat the experience. “Is it safe? I mean, with the region on a fault line, are we just another San Francisco waiting to happen?”

  “Not exactly,” Lesley explained. “The Balcones Fault has rumbled from time to time, but the earthquakes in Texas tend to happen in El Paso or thereabouts. The fault isn’t active, that is, there’s no slip between the two sections of earth that are separated by the fault.”

  “That’s almost reassuring,” Mara mumbled.

  “Don’t worry. The Wonder Cave is accessible to people on a daily basis, and it’s been determined architecturally sound. It’s basically a fracture in a massive limestone formation. Water has worn down the walls over the centuries, and new fissures have emerged. Geologists typically study caves such as these for speleothems.” Blank looks followed her explanation, and Lesley elaborated, as though lecturing a class. “Speleothems are a catch phrase. They describe features found in caverns, where the features occur after the underground chamber of the cave has been formed. A scientist would look for common types, like dripstone, which are calcium deposits that form stalactites or stalagmites.”

  “I can never remember which is which,” complained Ethan.

  “C for ceiling and G for ground,” Mara offered. “Stalactites form on the ceilings and stalagmites form on the ground. Right?”

  “You might have a future in spelunking ahead of you.” They crested the trail and approached the guard standing duty. Sighing in relief, Lesley recognized the sturdily built woman who wore a pristine white uniform and a pleasant half smile. “Hello, Mrs. Howard.”

  “Why, Dr. Baxter!” Yvette Howard ambled forward to extend a hand. “What brings you here this time of the morning? It’s barely past dawn.”

  “I’m working on a field project for the university, and I’ve got another engagement later this afternoon. Today’s the last day I have to get my measurements. I spoke with the owners last week, and they said it would be okay to stop by.” Behind her back, Lesley sheepishly crossed her fingers. “I have a couple of colleagues with me. We’ll be down there for maybe an hour, two max.”

  Yvette reached for her clipboard, searching for mention of the doctor’s visit. “I don’t see your name on here, dearie. And I’m not supposed to open the gift shop without prior authorization. There’ve been some hooligans hanging around here lately. Can’t be too careful.”

  Lesley shook her head in commiseration. “I understand. I think their older brothers are in my freshman intro class. Children these days—”

  “Got two growing boys myself.” The guard sighed gustily. “They’re a handful, each of ’em. Never thought I’d be wishing so hard for them to move into adulthood. Can’t keep a box of cereal in the house.”

  Giving an expected laugh, Lesley tried again. “Haven’t had the pleasure of motherhood myself yet, but I might invest in Kellogg stock before I do.”

  The loud guffaw from Yvette was punctuated by a slap on Lesley’s arm. The camaraderie stung, but she winced internally and kept her smile in place. “You’ll do, Dr. Baxter. You’ll do.” Checking the clipboard once more, the guard used the attached pen to scribble a note on the page. “My shift ends at seven, Doctor. See if you can’t be done with your work by then. Porter comes on after me, and he’s a stickler for protocol.” Turning, Yvette unlocked the gift shop doors and pushed them open.

  Lesley motioned them forward, and soon they entered the cavern. Lanterns had been strung overhead. Inside, Yvette flipped them into operation and light flickered into the yawning space.

  “Nice work, Doc.” Mara had been impressed, despite herself. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. “Plausible cover, good recovery. You sure you haven’t done this before?”

  Offering a noncommittal smile, Lesley led them along the staircase that descended into the cave. “Watch your step. We have to go nearly twenty-five feet down before we reach the first room.”

  Ethan brought up the rear. “How many rooms are there?”

  “Wonder Cave has six rooms on three levels.”

  “Six rooms?” Mara posed the question, which echoed eerily on walls of the vertical descent. Carefully, she picked her way down the stairs and imagined Bailey creeping in under cover of dark. The key to a fortune clenched tight in his fist, if he had the patience to hold on. Patience Reese Conroy lacked. “How long has this been a tourist attraction?” she asked.

  “Excavating a cave is tricky and often useless. If the cavern isn’t scientifically significant, a government could waste a great deal of money and potentially cause a collapse by disturbing the balance. Seventy years ago this cave was opened to the public for fifteen years, but the man who discovered it, Mark Bevers, had no interest in doing more than a basic survey. New owners bought it and made it part of a theme park. It was a commercial venture. No need to hunt for hidden tunnels and risk a discovery that could subject the cave to government oversight.”

  Ethan felt his pulse jump. Following close behind the women, he scanned the dim interior, listened to the cadence of water as it pattered against calcite formations. “So in 1937 a man could have crept inside and hidden a key without anyone the wiser.”

  They left the stairs and entered the first room. Scrambling along a shelf of rock, Lesley replied, “Back then, no one would have cared.”

  Mara mounted the rock shelf behind Lesley, and she could feel Ethan on her heels. “What is this place?”

  “Mr. Bevers, the man who discovered it, called it the Poker Room. He used to bring his cronies down here for a game. Said he enjoyed the natural air-conditioning.” Indeed, cool air circulated around the trio as they spread out. “Bailey may have left his key anywhere. I’d recommend we search each room together. We’ve got a couple of hours, but not much more. When the tourists start arriving, we’ll lose our chance until nightfall.”

  “Gotcha.” Ethan took the west wall, while Mara moved to the south. Lesley focused her attentions on the eastern section.

  Ethan quartered his section and methodically searched every crevice and break in the brittle limestone. More than once his hands closed on slippery objects that had the shape and feel of a key, only to be rewarded with broken calcite formations. Holding impatience at bay, he crawled along the Poker Room floor determined to locate Bailey’s key.

  When he bumped into the curvature of the wall, he noticed an opening. Checking around, he saw Lesley kneeling near a column formed by deposits. Mara, for her part, stood on her toes, shoving her hands behind protrusions in the rock, unconcerned about what cave dwellers might await her fingers.

  She had no fear, he thought bemusedly, and yet she was terrified of everything. The contradiction disturbed him. Hypnotized him. Give her a task, and she attacked it with gusto. No whining about responsibilities or rewards. But offer her love, and she shrank from the possibility as though it might prove fatal. What had she said to him? That she was afraid he might actually love her.

  How was it possible she didn’t know he had no other choice?

  The question burst in his mind, and he was rocked by the revelation.
He loved her still. Always. He admired the way she charged at problems, never waiting for a savior. And he respected the choices she thought she had to make, doing what she thought necessary to take care of her family. Anger coursed through him when he thought of her father’s brutality, of her mother’s abandonment. Of how she hadn’t let him inside. Let him help.

  If he understood her—and he thought he did—she couldn’t have. Not then. The Mara he loved as a young man believed that she bore the burdens of her life alone. In sharp contrast, the grown-up Mara had quietly agreed to share her information with Lesley and finally given him her trust. At least, a part of it.

  Ethan slipped through the opening into the unlit cavern that Lesley had told them was the Crystal Room, but his thoughts remained on Mara. On the impossibility of a future together. Too much time and distance and lies separated them. She’d spent their time apart swindling men and women out of their possessions. He’d focused on learning and teaching. On solving crimes in his own, detached way.

  Her penchant for illegal behavior nicked at his sense of right and wrong, but being a recent arsonist himself, he could comprehend the thrill of standing on the precipice of jeopardy—of flouting the rules just for the hell of it.

  Then, of course, there was Lesley. If Mara’s misdeeds jolted his conscience, it was Lesley and her sheer perfection that spoke to the man he thought he was. She was erudite, lovely, and bold. Flashing his light around the small crevice, Ethan saw wet formations that glittered in his low beam. Like the crystalline rocks, Lesley was strong and beautiful, unexpected and wholly right.

  But wrong for him.

  With Lesley, he was smart and witty and safe. Mara, on the other hand, made him furious and agitated and excited. She stirred him in a way Lesley didn’t, couldn’t. He snapped off his beam and reentered the Poker Room. Mara and Lesley stood near the stairs waiting. Watching him.

  “Ready to move on?”