by Dana Mentink
“How?” said Mrs. Timmons.
“They covered over some exposed mine entrances and shored up the old structures.” She did not add that mines seemed to be magnets for exploration and more than one thrill seeker had lost their lives.
They rumbled into the parking area, and the guests were freed from the vehicle. Rita and Mr. and Mrs. Timmons gazed up at the lower tramway, the rickety wooden artifact protruding from the golden rock like some sort of giant metal insect. The mine had produced a staggering amount of gold in its time. There were plenty of weathered relics dotting the scarred rock, but most visitors wanted to see the impressive aerial tramway towers and terminals, which required a steep mile-long hike.
Levi was already there. He met them with a quiet “hello.” The horses were saddled, tails swishing. The trailer would have already been dropped at their end point by a stable hand. The teen boys perked up from their sullen contemplation at the sight of the horses. Laney hid her smile at the joy that lit their faces. She wanted to shake them and say, “You have two parents who love you. Don’t you know how precious that is? Put down your phones and revel in it.”
Laney had been taken from her drug-addicted mother as a toddler and had landed in the foster care system. The family who she’d finally settled with at age eight was supportive, but not particularly warm. She’d mistaken that support for love. After their biological daughter went off to college, they’d summarily asked Laney to leave when she turned eighteen. It had started a tailspin that had taken years, and the timely rescue from Aunt Kitty, to save her from.
“Awesome,” one of the teens said, pulling her from her reverie.
After Levi delivered a quick safety-and animal-behavior lesson, Rita and the family mounted their horses. Levi waved at Beckett and Laney. “Meet you later.” He guided the eager visitors along a narrow trail.
She sighed. Now she would be left alone with Beckett to make their way to the Harmony Borax Works and wait until the guests arrived for dinner. Though she was glad not to be in the saddle in the hot remnants of the day, it was still going to be a long couple of hours. What in the world were they supposed to talk about?
Beckett was silent the first few miles and she kept her gaze fixed solidly out the side window.
“Do you believe her?” he said abruptly.
“Rita?” Laney mulled it over. “I’m not sure. Do you?”
“No, but I don’t believe much of anyone. In jail, the only way to stay alive was to distrust everyone.”
“I think that started before jail.” She regretted her words immediately.
He shot her a look. “How do you mean?”
Why not tell him? He would be stepping out of her life anyway. “High school, what happened in the wrestling match… I think that might have been when you changed.”
He shifted. “The world changed. It was like everyone suddenly saw me differently after what happened with Dan, like I was a bad person.”
“And you started seeing yourself that way.”
He shrugged.
“Aunt Kitty told me one time it was like you began to believe what your naysayers said. Their labels became your identity.”
“I…I ruined Dan’s life. Hard to forget that.”
“Dan Wheatly is a successful man, a practicing attorney.” Who had, in fact, reached out to contact Beckett a few times, but Beckett had left the phone calls unanswered.
He shook his head. “Let’s not go into that.”
Laney sighed. Some things had not changed, no matter how many times she’d prayed about them.
Beckett went on. “I’d feel better if Jude could confirm some facts for us. He’ll call when he can.”
“Do you think they’ve caught Kenny?”
He didn’t reply, which was answer enough. Kenny was still out there somewhere, planning his next move. They arrived at the Harmony Borax Works.
Beckett unfurled the pop-up canopy and set up a folding table underneath. Laney spread it with a gingham tablecloth and set out plates, cups, insulated pitchers of ice water and lemonade. She checked on the tamale casserole, still warm in the baking dish, and the side salads, chilling in their second cooler. They used to provide a cut of beef, cooked on a portable grill right on the spot. After Beckett went to jail, Laney had incinerated several rib-eye steaks before she hung up her tongs and switched to casseroles.
It was nearing seven now, and the sun sank into a bronze puddle behind the crumbling brick building. William Coleman, who’d built the facility in the 1800s, had found the Death Valley temperatures to be a struggle too. When the processing water was too hot to allow the borax to crystallize, he moved operations. The only animals strong enough to haul the borax to the new site were mules, and the legendary 20 Mule Team Borax was born.
Laney had always loved the story, romanticizing the crumbling brick structures, imagining she could hear the long-ago braying of the rugged animals. At the moment, the quiet struck her as sinister. Shadows gobbled up the landscape. But the old borax works were the perfect place for stargazing and a starting spot for the night photo activity Willow would conduct. Though the temperatures had only just begun to dip back down into the high seventies, she put on her sweater anyway. Pulling the lighter from her pocket, she lit the small oil lantern. No one used oil lanterns anymore, but she loved the old thing she’d found in the basement and it set just the right tone in this aged place.
When Beckett’s phone vibrated, the quiet noise made her jump. He put it on Speaker. “Laney and I are here, Jude. Go ahead.”
“Here where?”
“In the park, borax works, waiting for the hotel guests.”
Jude paused. “Kenny got past us.”
Beckett’s knuckles whitened on the phone. “How?”
Jude’s tone was defensive. “Any number of ways, but we don’t think he’s left the area. I had roadblocks in place immediately, so he’s found someplace to hole up. Maybe doubled back to town and called on a friend. We’re canvassing. We’ll find him.”
“He’ll call his uncle for money, supplies,” Beckett snapped.
“Got that angle covered already, Beckett. They taught us that in cop school. We have an officer watching the trailer.”
Laney jumped in quickly. “Jude, Beckett said he told you that Rita has been asking about him.”
His voice gentled. “Yes. I’ve been looking into her, after Beckett called me. Sorry it’s taken me a while. She doesn’t have a record. She writes for an online newspaper.”
Laney caught Beckett’s eye. So she’d been telling the truth. The tension in her stomach let go a notch. “She said she was doing an article on Pauline’s murder.”
“That’s outside her wheelhouse,” Jude said. “She does the fluff stuff—community events, gardening tips and the like. Not investigative pieces.”
“Maybe she’s looking to switch gears?” Laney suggested. “Make a name for herself?”
“Possible. I’ll continue to dig and see what I can unearth.”
Beckett pulled in a breath. “I…uh… Thank you. For checking her out. I really appreciate it.”
Laney was surprised by Beckett’s humility. She added her own thanks. At least they could take Rita off the suspect list. She might be hankering to write an exposé to lift herself up the ladder, but that wasn’t a crime. “Thanks for calling, Jude.”
But he wasn’t finished. “But there’s one more thing you should know. Rita’s hometown… It’s Baileyville, Oregon.”
The headline flashed into Laney’s brain. Nurse from Small Oregon Town Slain in Death Valley. Though she’d tried hard not to read the avalanche of articles, she’d not been able to avoid them all. She remembered a few of the details. Pauline Sanderson, age forty-two, was a sports enthusiast who played on the Baileyville Broncos soccer team.
She sank down on a folding chair. “You mean Rita is from the s
ame town as Pauline?”
“Yes.”
She could see the shock on Beckett’s features. “Did they know each other?”
“I haven’t found any connection so far other than the hometown as of yet.”
Beckett thanked him and hung up.
They sat in silence for a while, watching the flickering lantern flame. Beckett cracked his knuckles, a habit that used to drive her to distraction.
“There is something going on here that we haven’t figured out yet,” he said.
“It could be there’s nothing sinister in it. Rita knew about Pauline’s murder because she worked for a paper in the same hometown. That’s what sparked her interest in the first place.”
“She didn’t mention it. My gut tells me there’s more to her story.”
“I agree.” She shoved her hands in her pockets. “What do you think we should do?”
“Let Jude continue his investigation, and work on one of our own.” He looked hastily at her. “Me, I mean. Not you. You should…”
She sighed. “I know. Stay in my room with Admiral and eat bonbons.”
He laughed and pointed to her belly. “Does Muffin like bonbons?”
She gave him an arch look. “I am dead certain that Muffin will have the good sense to appreciate fine chocolate.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ll have to ask at the chocolate shop for some, those lemon-cream-filled ones you like.”
She felt her cheeks heat. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”
“Honey, after you ate the first one, you looked like you’d been given all the secrets of the universe.”
Honey… She allowed a smile. “Only the important ones.”
He looked away suddenly as if it pained him too much. “Yeah,” he said so softly she almost didn’t hear, “I will never forget the bliss on your face right then.”
Her cheeks went hot, and she was grateful that the growing darkness hid her from his sight. A snap sounded somewhere behind them, and they both tensed.
A jackrabbit darted across the landscape, enormous ears primed for danger. She exhaled. Eyes wide and leaping at every shadow, she reckoned she was beginning to understand how the poor things must feel.
“I’ll be right back.” Beckett slunk into the darkness, walking to a high point so he could view the road in the distance.
But surely Kenny could not have found them. How would he know where they were? Nowhere on their website did they provide a schedule of their evening tours. Beckett had even made her take down the photo gallery of their previous tours, in case Kenny or anyone else was trying to reconstruct their regular excursions. The breeze borne across the dry ground should have been refreshing, but it felt too chill and she clamped her arms around her body.
Several long minutes passed until Beckett returned and sat in a chair. “No sign of anyone.” He patted her hand.
Without realizing it, she had eased her folding chair closer to his. Determinedly, she edged it away. She would not give him any false signals.
When the silence between them became too awkward, she checked on the food again. The soft pool of golden light from the lantern cheered her.
Levi arrived, leading the small party of riders behind him. The guests appeared to be pleased with the first part of their adventure, chattering and pointing. They dismounted and cleaned their hands with the wet towels she provided, exclaiming over the drama of the abandoned borax mine on the horizon. Rita did not join in the conversation, instead checking her cell phone.
“No service out here,” Beckett told her. “Gotta have a satellite phone. Mountain walls are too high.”
“No problem,” she said. She took a seat and unfurled the napkin in her lap, draining half her glass of ice water.
Laney was happy to be busy serving up the meal, which was devoured in no time. Levi, as usual, picked at his food and passed up the dessert entirely. Everyone else ate hearty portions of the casserole and several of the oatmeal-raisin cookies she’d toted along. Willow arrived, her strawberry hair refusing to stay contained in her hair band. She drove a Jeep with the back end loaded with several tripods and extra cameras.
She swept a hand up at the sheen of stars beginning to reveal themselves in the sky. “No moon and clear skies. The perfect night for starwatching,” she said grandly. Willow’s effervescent personality could not be further removed from her nearly silent brother. “Who’s ready to take some one-of-a-kind photos? We’ll just drive right over that ridge and you will see stars you can’t believe are real.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. With no light pollution, the pitch-black canvas would come alive with a breathtaking show of constellations. Beckett had taken her to see them when they’d first started dating. She’d been rendered speechless by the magnificence. They’d shared their first kiss under the stars.
Now wasn’t the time to wallow in memories. She packaged the leftover food and blew out the lantern.
The teens grabbed extra cookies from the plate and headed to the Jeep. She was glad to see that they seemed to have come out of their surly teenage shells. They were just as eager as their parents to dive into the next phase. Death Valley had a way of inspiring awe in any age group.
Levi loaded up the horse trailer. Beckett helped until all six horses were securely aboard. Levi bade the guests good-night as they piled into the Jeep. With Beckett out of earshot, Levi spoke softly to her.
“You gonna be okay here?” The unspoken part of his question was “…with Beckett?”
What could possibly be awkward about being in such a romantic location, awash in painful memories, with the man who no longer wanted to be married to her? Part of her wished she could ride with Levi back to the hot springs. Instead she nodded. “Yes, thanks, Levi. We’ll clean up and head straight back home.”
He saluted her with a finger to his cap and drove the trailer away, loosing a cloud of dust that mingled with the night air. Beckett was already packing the dirty dishes in a tub they reserved for the job. While she gathered up the linens, he stowed the table in the van, and shut the rear doors as his phone rang again.
He answered, his eyes rounding. “Herm? Calm down. Tell me again.”
Laney waited, heart thumping. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
Beckett was still listening while he spoke to her. “Laney, get in the van, okay? We have to go now.”
She turned to get in. “Why? What’s wrong?”
He disconnected and shoved the phone into his pocket.
A glare of headlights blinded her. She threw up a hand to shield her eyes. A vehicle hurtled toward them at breakneck speed, tires crunching over the sandy ground.
There was no more time to ask questions. He pushed her toward the safety of their van.
“Run, Laney!”
She tripped and went down on one knee. Grabbing her hand, he urged her up. She got her feet under her and began to sprint. He pounded along right next to her.
The car accelerated as it bore down on them.
CHAPTER NINE
Laney ran in a blind panic toward the van. Her shoes skidded and slipped on the grit. The vehicle behind jolted across the ground, eating up the distance between them. It was coming so fast. Headlights scoured the night and the wheels sent vibrations into the ground that invaded her body. The revving engine sounded like the growl of a metal predator. Pain hitched her side, but she kept on running. If they could get to the van, crank the key she’d left in the ignition… They needed a minute, nothing more.
Feet flying, she ran faster until her breath was coming in shallow gasps and her pulse pounded. She risked another quick look over her shoulder. The four-door car was so close now she could make out the driver behind the wheel, a baseball cap pulled down low. Kenny? A scream bubbled up in her throat as she saw the front bumper pull closer. With a cry of despair she tried to speed up, bu
t her body simply would not cooperate. The slight dips and swells in the dry earth threatened to trip her.
Cold sweat bathed her neck. Even through her panicked haze some part of her brain processed the truth: they would not make it to the van in time.
They were going to be run down; there was no escape. As if living a nightmare, she imagined the machine plowing into her, snapping her bones as if they were made of dry twigs. The impact would shatter her body, but what about the tiny life nestled deep down inside her? Buffered by only a fragile nest of flesh, would he or she survive? You’re not going to kill my baby. The thought fueled her aching limbs and spurred her to take more gulps into her burning lungs. Leaning forward, she forced herself to her absolute limit, praying she would not step into a hole that would send her tumbling under the oncoming wheels. They would make it—they had to.
The engine snarled, moving ever closer, mocking her efforts. Pain flared in her side, a spark that fledged into fiery agony. She began to slow. No, please… she thought, willing herself to keep going in spite of her body’s protests. The Hotsprings van was so close now she could see the dust collected on the windows. Three more yards, two. If they could only reach it.
But she could push herself no faster, and their pursuer was gaining speed. It was futile. The car was nearly upon them. Any moment she would feel the impact of the metal, cutting into her, into them, even while their eyes were fixed on the means of their escape. Still, she kept running, too scared to stop, too winded to scream. The car was so close she could feel the heat from the engine on her back.
Abruptly, Beckett grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side. They tumbled together in a tangle of limbs until they came to a stop. Head still spinning, she watched as the car continued straight ahead and smashed front first into the rear of their van. Glass spewed in all directions. Metal crumpled with a squeal that drowned out her own scream. She got to her knees, gasping for breath. They were alive. She hugged herself in disbelief, but Beckett was urging her up.
“Keep going. Don’t stop.”
