by M. Pax
An employee booked most of the guests for the resort ranch off of something called the internet. Earl didn’t understand the half of it or the machine that ran it. The idea of a box slimmer and lighter than a strongbox to communicate with the world awed him. No one had imagined such a thing in his former time. Guests took rooms on the first and second floors of his home. Although he didn’t let anyone close, he enjoyed having people around.
Down the dirt road, through the lava and trees, and up his long driveway, he thought about Daelin. It surprised him how little Charming and she resembled one another. If he didn’t know they were related, he never would have guessed. Daelin appeared to have more of an aesthetic for fine things than Charming, was taller than he expected, and had a boldness under her shaken nerves. Where Charming conjured up thoughts of light, Daelin made Earl think of shadows. They both had good brains. Eventually Daelin would find out he was more than her sister’s landlord and would ask a lot questions. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he couldn’t disclose Charming’s secrets. They were too dangerous.
Wilma Rider sauntered out of the spa, waving at him. “Mr. Earl, I didn’t see you leave this morning.” The glossy light brown tendrils of her braid never strayed out of place, nor the sheen on her lips. She wore no other makeup other than her nude-tinted lip gloss. In her mid thirties, she was a handsome woman, but her personality was too close to his former wife’s, one that grated on his nerves if he was around it too long.
A soft tan always graced Wilma’s complexion, most likely due to her native ancestry. If he could get her to quit thinking she had a chance with him, she’d be the perfect employee.
“I hope because you were busy and not because you keep tabs on me.” He had enough of folks keeping an eye on him. Five years had passed since he came through the rift, yet the agents of Wells Fargo haunted him as if they continued to sit on his shoulders, and certain townspeople, like Culver, gazed too often in Earl’s direction. Earl had left Northern California in 1888 to get away from that sort of thing. “I’m going into the city. If you have any needs, leave the list on the front desk.”
Her long cheeks twitched, and she frowned. “Thanks for thinking of me, Mr. Earl.”
She wanted more. He didn’t. Their daily standoff. He didn’t dare smile at her and went on into the house.
Scott, his other full-time employee, didn’t need to be kept at a distance. That man never faltered in the care of the steer and horses. Good thing. Earl had never cared for horses. He had never owned one or used one in his former century. He wasn’t about to start.
His years as an infantryman had served him well, allowing him to cover twenty miles in a day over the roughest terrain. He still preferred to travel by foot or by a shiny new pickup truck.
In his office, a room as large as the farmhouse he once shared with his wife and daughters in Iowa, he strode to an old mahogany desk. It had once belonged to a well-to-do mine owner. Neither the man nor the mine had any bearing on the world anymore.
Earl took Charming’s glasses and the crystal disc out of the top drawer, wrapped them carefully in a piece of rabbit fur, then slipped the package into his coat pocket. At the fireplace, he kneeled at the hearth and slipped his fingers underneath one of the floorboards. It lifted with ease and he pushed the insulation out of the way. Beneath it, a safe was embedded into the volcanic rock that made up the ground in all of Caslow County.
Deftly, Earl dialed the combination and opened the vault. From its depths he lifted out a cell phone, one different than his normal phone. He’d have to get another of these prepaid models today. This one was almost used up.
His thumb selected a contact, one of two. Charming was the only other. The line rang then clicked when the other end picked up.
A lilty voice striking notes as harmonious as a bow on a violin answered. “Are they onto me?”
“Not yet. I’m coming in today with a guest.” He brushed insulation dust off his pants.
“Who?”
“Charming’s sister.”
“Do you think it wise?”
“Sooner or later she’s going to find out about her sister’s activities and look into it all. It’s more likely than not since Daelin will be working directly for Sabina. I think that means our Envoy to the rift has plans for Daelin. If so, the young lady should have proper guidance. Don’t you think?”
The line went quiet, but Earl could hear breathing. Pots clanged then came the rapid-fire thuds of chopping. Finally, there came a sigh. “You may come. You still going by Earl Blacke?”
“Yes. You still going by Dante?”
“No, I go by Dan now, and I don’t look as old.”
Earl wondered how that worked. Were he and Dante actually younger or did they just appear so? “Still in the same place?”
“No. I have a little sandwich shop now.” He rattled off the address.
“Perfect. It’s right by the return lot for the car rental, and my new friend is very hungry.”
Earl hung up, placed the phone back in his safe, and locked up. In the kitchen, he found some leftover roast chicken and made a sandwich, topping it with his homemade tomato salad. With a square of waxed paper, he wrapped it up and stuffed it into a paper sack with a bottle of water.
Inside the spa, cedar and rain hit his nostrils from ten candles blazing across the top of the reception desk. Earl rubbed the sides of his nose. The candle scents were probably meant to put him in the mood. He blew out the flames and nabbed Wilma’s shopping list from the desk. She wanted supplies for scrubs, facial masks, and wraps. At the bottom she added chocolate, roses, and a set of silk sheets.
“I’ll never understand her.” He pocketed the list written on the spa’s linen stationery and left without speaking to her.
In the garage, the sight of his shiny gold pickup made him smile. It was like having his own stagecoach. If only it had a strongbox that filled up with gold on a regular basis.
It took four minutes to drive to Charming’s place. Daelin waited in her rental. Earl drove up beside her and handed her the sack lunch through the vehicle windows. It took less than five minutes to drive out of town. The Basin Highway never had much traffic, so he didn’t fret about losing her. Thirty minutes west and they turned onto the busier Highway 97, heading north for another thirty minutes. He drove slow, careful to keep her right behind him.
The rental return lot was located across the street from where Earl needed to go. He pointed at the sandwich shop, telling Daelin to meet him there when she finished.
Inferno Grill blazed on the window of the little restaurant. From all the hours spent in Dante’s company, Earl knew Dante liked the joke of it. Earl thought it stupid.
Two customers sat at tables nibbling sandwiches the size of bison noses. The small eatery had a simple decor in black, red, white, and chrome: an order counter, a place to assemble and grill sandwiches, and a few simple square tables. The rich aroma of specialty coffee perfumed the air. So did bacon. Dante wiped down the grill, his deep blue irises heating to yellow for the briefest of moments, long enough for Earl to notice.
When Earl tugged at his collar, Dante smiled. His appearance differed greatly from when he ran Settler’s library. With blue eyes and sandy hair, he could be one of Earl’s brothers. They had the same fit builds, the same style of beard and mustache, only Dante stood an inch taller and had longer hair. The dapper old man who had helped Settler pick out books now had less wrinkles, no eyeglasses, and wore no tweed. The hat was gone, too. Wisdom, however, still furrowed his brows.
Tossing the cleaning rag aside, he smirked. “You’ve always inspired me, my friend.”
“Makes me wonder what kind of convoluted place you come from.” Earl thrust his chin toward the back of the restaurant. “Ran into your brother last night. We’ve a lot to discuss before she gets here.” He took out Charming’s bloodied glasses, peeling back the rabbit fur enough to give Dante a quick glimpse.
“I knew recruiting you was a wise move.” Dante sq
uinted at an elderly woman dressed in pink eating at one of his tables. “Betty, keep an eye on things for a minute.”
hapter
Her thirty-ninth move, and Daelin knew it wouldn’t be her last. In the doorway of Charming’s cottage, she clutched the handles of her suitcases. The tiny house basically had one room with a converted sunroom for more space, a bathroom, and a ladder leading up to a bedroom loft.
Setting her bags down then hauling the others in from the porch, Daelin could now claim to be an official resident of Settler. She shut the door against the chill and stepped farther inside.
The house smelled like her sister and Oregon: fresh dug soil, pine, cedar, sage, and hyacinth. A battered side table had traveled here from their childhood, one they had converted to a dollhouse until they outgrew dolls. Later they played hours and hours of card games on it with their baby brother. Charming insisted it go wherever she did. It was the only piece of furniture that had remained a constant in their young lives.
The essence of Charming surrounded Daelin, a bond, familiarity, the one thing she had hoped most to find in Settler. “Charming?” The expectation of finding her grew stronger, beckoning Daelin to the middle of the main room. Only the gentle rustling of the wind tapping tree branches against the windows answered. She had never experienced such utter silence, except when begging her mother not to move again.
Shabby chic described much of the cottage’s furnishings. Old, worn, welcoming. She envied Charming for having this bit of stability, running her hand across the timeworn red of a wicker chaise lounge. It had soft floral cushions and a chenille quilt she could curl up in with her sister later. Under its comfort, they’d catch up on their lives, chatting and laughing until dawn. Such had been their habit when meeting as adults.
A door off the kitchen led to an attached garage that could fit a compact car if it hadn’t been outfitted as a workshop. Fossils and tools covered the surfaces along with bits of wire, crystal, and circuitry. The soldering iron still smoked. Daelin went and unplugged it, brushing her fingers over the chips of rock and wire. What had Charming been doing? What did wires and circuits have to do with fossil hunting? A glance out the window showed a Jeep parked behind the garage. What kind of rush would have had her leaving it behind?
Daelin chewed her lower lip and searched the house for a note. Not one message anywhere, and she had no idea what to think other than either Charming or Earl had lied. Why?
She checked her watch. He’d be here in forty-five minutes. She didn’t know where to put her things and hoped Charming would be here when she returned from Bend. She hated living out of suitcases, and her little sister knew it.
In the bathroom, she made room for her toiletries and did a quick wash to rid herself of the road. Out of her luggage, she took a pair of jeans, her favorite purple sweater, socks, and sneakers. She put them on and her trench coat. The business coat didn’t fit with Settler, but she had nothing else.
Finding a pad and pen on Charming’s writing desk in the sunroom, Daelin jotted a quick note. Earl took me to Bend to return the rental car. Be back by sundown. Two steps later and Daelin was in the kitchen. A quaint little island divided it from the seating area.
The 1950s aqua refrigerator had a few magnets stuck on it—clear buttons with photos of dinosaur bones in their centers. One held a recent image of Earl and Charming out on one of Settler’s two lakes, laughing, their arms around each other. Daelin froze, staring at it. There was no mistaking he held Charming on a pedestal, and she blossomed under his attention. Her sister had never mentioned him as a boyfriend, or any boyfriend.
Daelin stuck her note beside the happy photo, then she searched the cottage for other pictures. She found some of herself, Charming, and their brother Cobb, and a few of their mother in concert. One with Charming and her father. He had agreed to meet her, but as far as Daelin knew they hadn’t kept in touch.
Daelin and Cobb hadn’t fared half so well with their fathers. Not having the same dads didn’t keep her and her siblings from forming a tight bond, one distance hadn’t loosened. Cobb lived in Atlanta, still in college. Daelin envied him. She wished she could return to a university’s sheltered reality.
In the front room she found recent images of Charming out in the desert digging with other fossil enthusiasts. Dinosaurs had been in the ground for millions of years. They never required a rush. Did they? Daelin squinted at the garage and rubbed at her temples. Where else would Charming be?
Out the front window a wake of dust approached from the direction of Earl’s ranch. Daelin grabbed her purse and went outside. After locking up, she pocketed the pretty antique key and hopped into the rental car. She watched the nearing vehicle, unsure what to make of Earl. Landlord, indeed. He had left a whole lot out of who he was.
He smiled friendly enough when handing over a paper sack, and he drove in a way that made it easy to keep up with him, which made Daelin feel a little better. Perhaps over lunch he’d tell her how long he had been with Charming and what all he knew.
A sandwich now, lunch with another sandwich later, it’d be a good day. Unwrapping the one Earl had made, Daelin took a bite. “In all the dictionaries.” She devoured it. That cowboy didn’t just slap some bologna on bread, he’d made a gourmet meal on fresh-baked slices of whole grain as good as any New York deli. Better.
The sun filtering through the windows baked the interior of the car. Daelin cracked the window to let the cool mountain air rush in. It smelled better than any air freshener. Cedar, sage, and pine filled her lungs and sucked all the moisture out of her. She’d shrivel into a raisin if she didn’t get a gallon of lotion and stay hydrated. She guzzled the bottle of water Earl had given her, wishing for more.
Charming had mentioned Settler was in the high desert. It didn’t look like any desert Daelin had seen in films or television shows. For one, it wasn’t warm. For two, she didn’t see any vast plains of sand. There were plants and water and life. Sort of. Scrub brush was life, but not civilization.
Periodic campground and attraction signs graced the highway. Others cautioned of deer, grades, and curves. Daelin saw no evidence of a city, just mountains, pine trees, and scruffy brown brush. A large sign announced how much farther to Bend, but didn’t hint at an urban oasis.
“Please have a mall.” Daelin flicked on the radio and found a station playing an eclectic selection. “Not so bad.” Yeah, she could live with it.
When Earl exited the highway into Bend, an RV park broke the wilderness and houses began to dot the brush. A strip mall cropped up and a traffic light. Earl made a turn. Stunted and twisted fir trees stuck up over the brush, all in shades of sage and brown.
Before the next traffic light, Earl’s golden pickup veered into a car lot. Daelin pulled up beside him and rolled down her window.
“There’s a restaurant across the road. Come over when you’re done.” Earl tipped his hat and drove off.
Daelin watched him to make sure she’d wind up in the right place then got out of the sedan. A tiny gray hut sat in the middle of twenty cars. She handled her business, cutting short the conversation the attendant wanted to have. He didn’t care about Daelin’s shivering.
Hands shoved into her pockets, she walked over to the restaurant. The little house, not much bigger than Charming’s, had been painted a deep red, and Inferno Grill blazed in neon across the picture window. Inside, she was greeted by an elderly woman sitting by the door. Daelin didn’t see anyone else.
“Did a cowboy in a red coat come in?” Daelin sniffed and reached for a napkin. The cold then sudden warmth shocked her nose into running. She dabbed at it.
Bright pink colored the woman from lipstick to boots. The only thing not pink was her cropped halo of white curls. “He went in the back with Dan.” She pointed. “You can sit here and keep me company until they finish.”
Daelin blew her nose and tossed the napkin in the trash. “What are they doing?”
Pink lady shrugged. “I hope they’re creating a new
sandwich. Dan makes the best.”
The French bun oozing cheese and guacamole smelled divine. “Sandwiches are my favorite food.” Daelin smiled. Her stomach rumbled at the lingering scent of bacon. She glanced around the place, which reminded her of an old diner. A sign on a door off the food prep area read, Employees Only. “I’m just going to tell him I’m here.”
She went to the counter, lifted a section, then scooted behind it. The private door opened into an extension of the kitchen. At the far end stood another door leading to an office. In it stood Earl and a gentleman who could be his twin. They didn’t see her. With only twelve feet of space between them, she could hear their words clearly.
“We don’t know what Sabina wants her for yet.” Earl’s lookalike spoke so beautifully, drawing Daelin closer. “So you can’t tell her about last night and Charming’s part in it. How would you explain it?”
The stranger knew Charming. Worse, something had happened to her. Daelin felt ill, more shaken than when an asshole pulled a gun on her three weeks ago. And what did Sabina have to do with all of this? Daelin held her breath, tiptoeing to just outside the door, plastering herself against the wall.
“I don’t plan on explaining anything,” Earl said. “For one, it’s not my place. It’s Sabina’s or one of her minions. For two, I’ve promises to keep.”
He had lied about Charming being out in the desert with the Paleo Institute. Why? Where was her sister? What was she involved in? Daelin dug her fingers into the wall.
“The second reason you gave is more important. It’s dangerous for everyone if you slip Charming’s confidences. Dangerous for you, me, the whole darn world.”
Daelin wished her heart would quit beating so loudly. She didn’t want to miss a word.
“I know, Dante. My tongue will be still. Mainly I’m here because I’m worried. Tell me about the disc with the wires and circuitry. Will it get me to her?”
Wires and circuits brought to mind the mess in Charming’s workshop. Since when had her younger sister learned to make anything involving wires? Scooting to the side of the door, Daelin peeked around the frame.
