“But before I go down in there,” I stalled, looking at Wade, “I have to hear the rest. What happened with Sam? Did he really die just to protect the treasure?”
“Nah. He died to protect you.”
“Me? How?”
“I tol’ him if he would tell me everything he knew about the treasure I wouldn’t kill you when I got back downstairs to Ledet’s. So that’s when he finally let me know about the pot holder that was hanging by the stove. I tore it up, thinkin’ there was a map or something hidden inside, but there wasn’t. Sam said it was the number on the outside that I needed, that I had to use it to ‘follow Julian’s recipe.’ The whole thing sounded so stupid I just knew he was lying. I worked him over a while, but his story never changed, so finally I gave up and finished him off.”
Gripping the wooden ladder so tightly that I could feel the grains of the wood digging against my palms, I closed my eyes and tried not to picture Sam’s final moments as Wade continued.
“Then I waited there until the party at Ledet’s was over and everyone was gone. Thanks to your stubborn father and his lack of a good security system, it wasn’t any big deal to use Sam’s key to get back in. I went through all the papers right there, but never found nothing about the treasure. You were my last resort. Since I knew I had to kill Kevin anyway, because he’d seen me, I decided to get two for one: kill him and frame you, and then let you find the treasure for me. I just had to figure out how to make it all happen.”
“The hotel setup was my idea,” one of the brothers volunteered proudly.
“That’s right,” Wade said, acknowledging him with a nod. “A couple of us had to work together on that one, but we managed to pull it off. Even managed to slip a tracking device into your purse before we left you there. After that, all I had to do was show up at the jail the next day and convince you that I was your friend on the inside. Between watching the tracking device and getting your phone calls, I’ve been able to follow your every move since.”
“Unbelievable,” I whispered.
“Anyhoo,” Wade added, looking up at the sky, which was finally a vivid morning blue, “it’s just a shame that things had to end this way.”
“Time to wrap it up, Wade,” one of his brothers said, stepping toward me with his gun.
“Yep. You better get down there, Chloe, ’fore Bubba here has to do something drastic.”
Taking one last look at the lot of them, I did as they said and lowered myself into the darkness. As I climbed down the long, long ladder, I saw that this was a central chamber, almost like an elevator shaft, and shooting out from it on each side were what looked like long, dark tunnels. Though the first few feet were made of packed dirt, there came a point where the strata changed to solid white, the hard, pockmarked surface of the salt dome. Continuing downward, the shaft widened considerably. I passed two levels of tunnels before finally reaching the third. Far above me, I heard the one named Bubba ask Wade if they should have confiscated our cell phones. Wade replied that it didn’t matter since cell phones couldn’t work from down inside the mine.
I didn’t know what they planned to do next, but when finally my feet were on solid ground and I looked back up toward the opening, I wasn’t really surprised to see them pull the ladder out. My guess was that they planned to abandon us down here, where we could die of natural causes, thus getting us out of the way and avoiding any appearance of murder.
Regardless of how we died, though, it was still murder, plain and simple.
Looking around the dark, salty chamber, I spotted my mother, crying and hovering against the wall. Beside her was Travis, lying on the ground, his eyes closed.
I ran to him, falling to my knees and laying my head on his chest, listening for a heartbeat. My own heart was pounding so loudly, though, that I couldn’t hear. Then I pressed my fingers against his neck to feel for a pulse, and he opened his eyes.
“Did they hurt you, cher? Did they do anything to you?”
“No, I’m okay, really,” I assured him.
“Then what’s that?” he persisted, touching the bandage on my hand.
“Long story. I’ll tell you about it later.”
“I haven’t stopped praying for you since we were kidnapped,” he rasped. “I thank God He answered my prayers.”
I wanted to say how wrong he was, that God hadn’t helped or spared me in the least. But as I laid my head back down on Travis’ chest and closed my eyes, I was overwhelmed with the thought that God had heard those prayers after all, and that He was the only reason we were both still alive.
Suddenly, something began to change in our surroundings, a subtle shifting of the dimness around us.
Looking upward, I could see the opening to the mine, the silhouette of something else began to cover it like an eclipse.
“What are you doing?” I shouted, but no one answered me.
“Looks like they’re capping the mine,” Travis muttered. “We’ll never be able to get out now.
Soon, the opening was completely covered and everything went black.
FORTY
Plunged into a darker darkness than I had ever known, I realized I couldn’t even see my own hand held up in front of me. Blinking, I tried, but my eyes simply couldn’t adjust to the complete absence of light.
“Cell phones,” I said suddenly, reaching into my pocket and flipping mine open. The light was dim, but amid the darkness it shone like a beacon. My mother and Travis quickly illuminated their phones as well.
“I doubt we’ll get a signal, but at least we’ve got light,” I said.
I held my breath as I dialed a number, but the call was quickly terminated with the words “Signal unavailable.”
“Texting. Try texting,” Travis said, explaining that right after Hurricane Katrina, even when they couldn’t get a signal to make calls, sometimes texts slipped through.
“Who do we text?” my mother asked. “Should we try 911?”
Shaking my head, I replied that at least two of Wade’s brothers were cops down here, dirty cops who might intercept a call for help if it came through the local dispatch.
“I’ve got cousins who live nearby and can be here in a flash—backed up by a dozen other strong, resourceful, well-armed Naquins,” Travis said, reading off two numbers for us to type into our phones.
“Actually, we need the state police to come in too,” I added, thinking that might best be accomplished through my lawyer. I read off the number I had for him, and then together we worded the one message that would go out to all of the numbers, typed it into our individual phones, and saved it as a draft so we could keep trying without retyping if it didn’t work the first time. We hit “Send,” but after a moment the texts came back as undeliverable on all three phones.
“Okay. Mom, you keep trying while I take a look at Travis’ injuries,” I said, trying hard to keep a tone of desperation from my voice.
“All right.”
“Tell me where you’re hurting,” I said to Travis, holding my phone so that the light shone on him. It was hard not to cry at the sight of his swollen face.
“I think they broke my arm and a couple of ribs,” he replied, gingerly raising himself up to a sitting position. “And maybe my knee. Other than that, I’m probably okay.”
“Would a sling on your arm help?”
“Why, do you happen to have one handy, cher?”
I looked at his face in the dim glow of the phone to see that he was smiling. That was a good sign, for sure.
“No, but I can make one for you. Mother, you’re not wearing panty hose under those slacks by any chance, are you?”
“Are you kidding me?” she snapped. “We’re about to die and you’re worried about how I’m dressed?”
Rolling my eyes, I explained that I needed them so I could make a sling for Travis’ broken arm.
“Oh. Well, no. I’ve got on knee-highs, but you can have those if you want.”
She removed her shoes and then gave her stockings to me. I
tied the ends of the stockings together, looped the makeshift sling around Travis’ neck, and carefully arranged it under his arm.
“That already helps.” Travis said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. “Thanks, cher.”
By the light of the phone, I took a moment to study Travis’ features. If we really were going to end up dying down here, I wanted one of the last things I could see to be the face of this man who had done nothing but try and protect me. Finally, unable to help myself, I reached out and gently stroked the side of his cheek. He nuzzled into my hand, eyes still closed, and took a deep, sighing breath.
“I’m sorry, Travis, for everything,” I whispered.
“Shhh,” he replied. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I lost faith in you. I stopped trusting you. For a little while, I even thought you were one of them.”
“That’s just ’cause I didn’t tell you the whole truth about myself, cher. Don’t blame yourself for jumping to the wrong conclusions. I’m the one who’s sorry. And for what it’s worth, I do owe you the courtesy of some pertinent facts.”
“I just need one, Travis. Everything else I can learn later—if we get the chance to have a later, that is.”
He opened his eyes and looked deeply into mine.
“Divorced, five years ago. Long story, but the bottom line is that she fell in love with the lead guitarist in a band we were recording and ended up divorcing me to marry him. She got life with a crossover star and I got custody of TJ. That’s the bottom line, but I’ll be happy to tell you more. As much as you want to know. Anything. Everything.”
“Thank you, Travis. For now, that’s enough.”
I leaned forward and kissed his cheek as gently as I could, wondering if I was destined to have found love at what turned out to be the very end of my life. Placing my cheek against his for a long moment, I thought how ironic it was to be so happy and so sad all at the same time. Taking in the full extent of our situation, the sadness won, and I felt a sob bubbling up in my throat. I couldn’t afford to waste time crying right now, though, so I pulled away and turned my attentions to other things.
My mother, on the other hand, was still at it, though at least her sobs had finally subsided to sniffles. As she continued to try and send out the text message over and over, she began to whine about the dire straights we now found ourselves in, saying that we were all going to die. I could tell that she wanted me to comfort her and pay attention to her and make her feel all better. I was sorry, but I had more important things to do. Lola Ledet would have to look beyond the end of her own nose for a change.
“I need to explore these tunnels,” I said to Travis. “Maybe one of them will lead to a different exit.”
“Trust me, they don’t,” Travis said. “My cousins and I used to play hide-and-seek down in here when we were kids. The only way out is up.”
“Then let’s figure out a way to go up. There must be plenty of debris down here. Maybe I could find some rope or some boards and maybe fashion a ladder.”
“I know where there’s a ladder in one of the tunnels, but it won’t help,” Travis said, explaining that the mine cap was likely made of cement and couldn’t be removed from the inside without some heavy equipment doing the pushing.
Feeling antsy, I jumped up and used the light from my phone to explore our immediate surroundings. The chamber we were in was large, at least twenty feet across, with tunnels branching off in four directions. There were also the other tunnels on the two levels above ours. Surely somehow we could find a way out of here.
“What about our cell phones?” I asked, moving back toward Travis. “If I could get close enough to the surface, maybe I could text for help there.”
“It’s worth a try.”
“So where’s the ladder?”
He explained the route I would need to take through the tunnels to get to it. I could tell he wanted to go himself, but of course he was too injured for that.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, leaning forward and kissing him full on the mouth. “You stay here and pray. Mom, you come with me.”
With that I headed down the tunnel Travis had indicated, my mother following closely behind. Feeling a new surge of confidence, I moved more quickly than I should have and soon bumped my head on the solid salt wall.
“Oh, honey,” my mother cried, grabbing at my shirt from behind.
“I’m okay,” I said, gingerly feeling my forehead for blood even as I pressed onward.
We soon reached the juncture Travis had described and took the tunnel on the right. About ten feet in, I slowed down, looking for the old wooden ladder that was supposed to be there but wasn’t.
“I see it!” my mother said, holding out her phone for light and moving carefully toward the far wall.
The ladder was lying on the ground, its wooden rungs crusted over with white salt.
“Good catch, Mom,” I said, moving to one end and lifting it. “With the salt, it was practically invisible.”
Beaming from my compliment, she grabbed the other end, but it was hard to carry the ladder with both hands and shine our cell phones at the same time. Finally, we put the ladder on our shoulders, supporting it there with one hand while holding out our cells with the other. Turning the corner was a bit tricky, but we managed it. As we went, I couldn’t help but think that this was one of the first times in my entire life that my mother and I had had to cooperate and work as a team in order to accomplish something. Despite the dismal situation we were in, at least that felt good.
When we finally reached the central tunnel again, it was to find Travis with his eyes closed and his lips murmuring in prayer.
“We got it,” I said proudly.
“Amen,” he said in response, opening his eyes.
Travis directed us from his place on the floor as my mother and I propped up the ladder against the wall directly below a tunnel opening. From what I could tell in the dim light, the ladder was tall enough to get me to the next level as long as the wooden rungs held up under my weight.
“Here goes nothing,” I said, kicking off my flip-flops and glancing back at my two companions with what I hoped was an encouraging smile.
“Be careful,” my mother urged.
“I love you,” Travis added.
He loved me? We barely knew each other but he loved me?
Funny, but in fact I knew I loved him too.
“It’s mutual, Cajun Boy,” I said, flashing him a grin. “Now get back to praying while I try to get us out of here.”
As I had feared, the ladder was partially worn through with rot. Still, though two rungs split under my feet, it held together enough for me to make my way to the top. My mother steadied it against the wall as I stretched upward, desperate to reach the next level of the mine. Finally, with a fierce surge of effort, I grabbed the lip of the tunnel and pulled myself up and in.
Victorious, I turned around and looked down at the other two who were there below me. “Well?” my mother asked. “Are you getting a signal?”
I pulled my phone from my pocket, flipped it open, and tried to send the text message. After a long moment, it responded with a beep. Service unavailable.
“Not here,” I said, trying not to sound as devastated as I felt. There was no way to get any higher than this. “Let me go up the tunnel a bit and see if it’s any better.”
Summoning my nerve, I ventured into the darkness, checking the service bars on the screen of my phone as I went. Unfortunately, after a few minutes the phone beeped, and I looked to see that not only did I not have a signal, but the battery was low.
“Come on,” I hissed, shaking the phone as if that would give it more juice. I tried again to send the message, but it simply wouldn’t go through. As I continued onward, I thought about one of the Bible verses Travis had shared with me, the one that said He was one God who was over all and through all and in all. If that was true, then I knew that He was there with us now and we could turn our situatio
n over to Him, for better or worse.
“I’m sorry I doubted before,” I prayed suddenly, out loud. “Please, if You can, teach me the difference between the uncaring and distant God I usually think You are and the loving and ever-present God that the Bible—and Travis—says You are.”
As I continued moving forward, I was filled with a sudden peace so overwhelming and pervasive that it could only have come through a divine blessing. My phone beeped again, and I thought of turning back, but something told me to keep going just a bit further. Pressing onward, I went around a corner and then, with a final beep, it died.
There in the darkness, I carefully turned around so I could exactly retrace my steps. I was scared, but I knew if I could just get back around that corner, I could call out to the others and use the sound of their voices to find my way.
The funny thing was, after a few steps I decided that the black blackness of before wasn’t so black here. In fact, I realized, if I held my hand up in the air, I could actually make it out. Waiting for my eyes to adjust further, I decided that there was some light here, coming from somewhere, allowing me to see.
Please, God, let it be the sun!
Feeling my way along the walls, I slowly gravitated toward the light. I reached a point where the ground was littered with massive boulders, and I looked up to see that the ceiling of the tunnel had caved in there. Looking further upward, I realized that directly above where I stood was a crack high in the ceiling. With a gasp, I thought of what I had seen earlier, when I had been brought to the clearing by Wade Henkins.
When we had first arrived there, I had taken a good look at the ponds, and though three of them were filled with water, the fourth one had been empty with a small gash at its center. Thinking about that now, I had to wonder if somehow the bottom of that particular pond had actually broken through the ceiling of this tunnel. That would explain where the water had gone—it had simply drained down through the opening and into the mine below. That had to be it! Looking up, I decided that the crack in the ceiling was located right about where that pond probably was. Sunlight was pouring through the crack, illuminating the walls, which were not white, but pink. In fact, the boulders on the ground weren’t even boulders at all but instead were giant, pink chunks of salt that had fallen loose from the ceiling. Surely, my father had discovered this new vein on Monday morning, and that had been the source of his excitement the first time he called Kevin Peralta and told him to make the offer on Paradise. From what I could see, there was enough salt here to fill a million bottles of Chef Julian’s Secret Salt and then some. Given how proud he was of that salt, it was no wonder he wanted to own this place for himself.
Under the Cajun Moon Page 32
