Warm Springs

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by Smith, Dean Wesley


  He looked up and smiled at her and her heart damn near joined her salad in her stomach.

  “No rules that I know of,” he said, smiling that smile she could really, really come to enjoy.

  “In fact, the institute has very few rules except that we don’t tell anyone about the place. And I don’t feel like a babysitter in the slightest. Just a colleague who hopes to get to know you better.”

  She loved the sound of that answer more than she wanted to admit.

  “So, colleague,” she said, smiling at him. “Where would you suggest we go from here after lunch?”

  “I was thinking that if you have records of where your great-great-grandfather was buried, we go visit a grave and get started that way,” he said. “You can often get all kinds of information from the other graves around an historical grave. Then we go back to the institute and look around there and talk more with Director Parks.”

  “Sounds perfect,” she said. “I have the name of the cemetery. So do you want to tell the director our plans?”

  Zane shrugged and said, “Might as well.” He pulled out a cell phone. A moment later he was talking with Parks, giving him an update of the morning and their plans.

  She watched him talk, not really listening, but instead just studying his handsome features, the slight shadow of beard growth, the shape of his ears, everything.

  She had no idea why she was so attracted to Zane, but she sure was.

  After a moment, Zane hung up and put his phone away.

  “One of the founding members of the institute is going to pick us up out front in fifteen minutes,” Zane said, sounding sort of shocked, “since we don’t have a car. And take us to the cemetery, then back to the institute.”

  “Wow,” Belle said. “Who is it?”

  “Honestly,” Zane said, “Parks didn’t give me her name and I have never met any of the founding members of the institute. Until that conversation, I didn’t even know there were any, since from what I thought, the institute was founded way back around 1880 or something.”

  “Hard to be a founding member wouldn’t it?” Belle asked, looking at the puzzled look on Zane’s face.

  “More than likely I heard him wrong, but your arrival here has certainly triggered a bunch of stuff,” he said. “I have never heard of anyone, myself included, that didn’t take days to be accepted into the institute.”

  “I thought that was fast,” she said. “So Director Parks did not make it a habit to come talk to interested researchers the first time?”

  “You are the first,” Zane said, shaking his head and taking a final bite of his salad before pushing it away.

  “I wonder why I caused such a stir,” Belle said. She really was worried about that. She had been invited, she knew that, for some job offer. But still, this seemed fast and sort of puzzling.

  And she was still very worried that all this seemed just far too good to be true. What had she accidently tripped into?

  “I say we take the direct approach and just ask the director when we get back what is bothering you,” Zane said.

  “I love that direct approach idea,” Belle said. “In more things than just the institute.”

  He laughed and clearly agreed.

  She took one last bite of the wonderful buttered breadstick and then pushed her salad and the breadsticks away. “I think we better get a bill and head out front. We don’t want to make this mystery woman wait.”

  “A founding member,” Zane said, smiling at her and laughing. “She’s got to be almost too old to drive at this point.”

  “You would think,” Belle said, laughing.

  He laughed as well, smiling at her.

  Damn she loved that smile of his.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  June 9th, 2020

  Boise, Idaho

  ZANE AND BELLE were standing near the front door of the restaurant near the valet parking. The road in front of the restaurant was four lanes and one way and busy now during the lunch hour.

  Zane had used his institute card to pay for the lunch and add a tip to show Belle what her card could do as well. The cashier hadn’t even blinked an eye. It was as if he was taking a regular credit card.

  Director Parks saying that a founding member of the institute was going to pick them up had him very worried. He knew, from his history and research coming back here from the future, that there were fourteen founding members, one of whom was Parks.

  But in nine months on the surface of the institute in this time, he had not met or seen any of the others. So this was going to get interesting very quickly.

  And he was going to have to be very careful.

  After just a minute of standing near the front door, a white Cadillac SUV pulled up and a passenger side window rolled down and the woman behind the wheel motioned for them to jump in.

  Zane was fairly convinced this was not an institute car, since in the large parking garage behind the institute building, he had never seen a Cadillac.

  “Shotgun,” Belle said as they headed across the sidewalk toward the car.

  “Damn, you’re fast,” he said, laughing, and she climbed into the front seat and he climbed into the back, searching for the seat belt.

  Belle extended her hand to the driver. “I’m Belle Russell.”

  “Just call me Dawn for now,” the driver said, shaking Belle’s hand and staring into Belle’s eyes. “You would not believe how happy I am to meet you, Belle.”

  Belle said nothing, but Zane could tell she was rattled a little.

  “I’m Zane,” Zane said as he clicked in his seatbelt, managing to control his excitement and keep it out of his voice. “But I suppose you know that from what Director Parks told me.”

  The driver was a woman about his and Belle’s age and had long brown hair pulled back and tied. She seemed trim and was wearing tennis shoes, jeans, and a t-shirt with some writing on the front that Zane couldn’t read.

  If this really was a founding member as the director had said, then their driver was Dawn Rogers Madison.

  She was Belle’s lost great-great-grandmother, the very person Belle had come to research.

  Zane was almost shaking from excitement.

  Dawn Roger’s first trip back in time was legendary in the institute and used as a story to illustrate how dying in a past timeline did not actually kill you.

  Dawn got the big SUV back out into traffic and headed through town, turning west at one point.

  “Nice meeting you finally, Zane,” Dawn said. “So what did Jesse say about me, anyway,” the woman asked, smiling over her shoulder at Zane.

  “Just that you were one of the founding members of the institute,” Zane said. “Nothing more.”

  Zane didn’t dare say anything more or show any reaction if this really was Dawn Rogers.

  “Well, with that he’s right,” she said, laughing.

  Belle glanced around at Zane with a puzzled look on her face.

  He was so excited about meeting Dawn, he hoped his expression didn’t seem wrong in the conversation. He was doing his best to contain his excitement.

  “I was under the impression the institute was founded in 1880,” Belle said.

  “It was,” Dawn said, smiling as she turned up Americana Boulevard and headed west out of the downtown area.

  “Jesse and I will explain to both of you the structure of the institute after we’re back on Warm Springs,” Dawn said.

  “That would be very helpful,” Belle said. “So far, after only being here one morning, this seems far too good to be true, and you know what they say about things like that.”

  “I sure do,” Dawn said. “And trust me, if I was in your spot, I would be questioning all the damn time. But I assure you, we have a lot of secrets, but not of the type that make this dangerous or sinister or anything else. And we’re hoping to show you very quickly all those secrets.”

  “That would be nice,” Zane said, laughing, pretending to go along. Somehow, he was controlling his excitement and
just not blurting out something that would freak out Dawn and blow his cover.

  But this was hard, really hard.

  Dawn glanced back, smiling.

  Then she turned to Belle. “I didn’t say you were going to believe the secrets, however.”

  Belle glanced at Zane and then turned back to face forward and watch where they were headed.

  Zane sat in the back seat as they climbed up and hill to what is called the First Bench, and Dawn made a left where the road split at the top of the hill.

  Directly in front of them was a massive old cemetery shaded by huge old oak and pine and maple trees.

  Again Belle glanced back at Zane with a puzzled look. Belle had not told Dawn where they were headed and Zane knew this wasn’t the only old cemetery in the area.

  Zane shook his head at Belle to tell her that he had not said anything. He honestly didn’t know where they were heading either since Belle had not told him the name of the cemetery where her great-great-grandfather was buried.

  But, of course, Dawn would know where she buried her husband. Zane just hoped the slip of not asking which cemetery was purposeful.

  Dawn turned into the first entrance to the cemetery, driving slowly between open wrought iron gates. A low rock wall ran along the road, dividing the cemetery from the busy street.

  This cemetery, in its time, clearly must have been something, sitting up high overlooking the city below. Now the city had grown out and around it, so that the cemetery seemed to be almost in the downtown area.

  Dawn drove carefully along what seemed like nothing more than a paved path through massive numbers of old tombstones and small monuments. They were clearly in the old section of the cemetery, and there were some large family name plots around.

  Up ahead, Zane could see another big white Cadillac SUV parked off the small path of a road on the freshly mowed grass. As they approached, four others got out.

  The only one Zane recognized was Director Parks.

  “Seems we have company for our little excursion,” Dawn said, laughing. “More founding members of the institute, if you will.”

  “You folks sure hold your age well,” Zane said, trying to make a joke through being so stunned at what he was seeing.

  Dawn laughed. “We do, don’t we.”

  Dawn stopped behind the other SUV and shut off the car.

  Zane had no idea at all what was happening. But he had no doubt that Belle was never going to believe what these five people were going to tell her.

  Honestly, he didn’t believe he was going to get a chance to meet these people, since one man, standing there in the cowboy hat, long duster coat, and cowboy boots was the famous Duster Kendal himself.

  CHAPTER NINE

  June 9th, 2020

  Boise, Idaho

  BELLE CRAWLED OUT and moved with Zane around the car to where the others were. She hadn’t told anyone about where her great-great-grandfather had been buried, but more than likely the fact that he was buried here had something to do with her special treatment.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath of the slowly warming afternoon air that smelled of fresh-mowed grass. The huge old oak and pine trees in this section of the cemetery didn’t let much of the sunlight through, so it felt cooler than she knew it actually was.

  Everyone seemed to be about her age or just slightly older in looks, but there was something about the group that bothered Belle. She could not put her finger on it, but she felt she recognized a number of them.

  One man wore a long dark duster even though the day was getting warmer by the minute, a dress shirt under the duster, jeans, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat. He was the tallest.

  He looked like he was right out of 1880.

  The man beside him wore jeans, a light dress shirt, and tennis shoes. He was almost as tall as the other man and had short, dark hair. Belle thought he looked very, very familiar.

  A woman stood beside the man in the coat. She was as tall as Zane and wore a silk blouse, dress jeans, and had her long hair pulled back as well. She smiled and seemed to radiate confidence with the smile.

  “Belle, Zane,” Director Parks said, “I would like you to meet Duster Kendal, Bonnie Kendal, and Madison.”

  Both Belle and Zane shook their hands as all three basically welcomed them.

  Zane seemed almost shaking with nervousness, which surprised Belle. He didn’t seem to be the type to have that sort of reaction. The guy could handle dangerous and emergency situations underground. Why was this making him nervous?

  Duster was the man in the duster coat. Bonnie, the tall woman, was clearly his wife.

  “We are very glad you decided to take us up on listening to an offer,” Dawn said, turning to Belle. “We are glad you are here for a number of reasons, the most important being your genetics and genealogy research, of course.”

  Belle watched as all four of the others, including Director Parks, nodded in agreement.

  “So Zane told Parks you came to see your great-great-grandfather’s grave,” Dawn said. “So we figured we would take this time to start explaining some things that are difficult to believe about the institute to you.”

  Belle nodded, but said nothing. At this point, she figured it was just better to stay as calm and silent as possible to find out what was really happening.

  “Let me show the grave to you,” Dawn said, turning and leading the way off the road through the old tombstones across the freshly mowed grass. “It’s been a while since I have been here, but I think I can find it.”

  Belle glanced at Zane who shook his head and just walked beside her. It felt good to have him there, even though he seemed in the dark as much as she was.

  And he seemed to have recovered from his reaction meeting everyone. She would have to ask him about that later.

  After about forty steps, with Belle and Zane following along followed by the other four, Dawn stopped and pointed to an old tombstone.

  Belle watched her face as she suddenly seemed pained for a moment, then stepped back so that Belle and Zane and the others could see.

  The stone was a double stone for a man and a woman, but the woman’s side only had a name on it and nothing else.

  On the man’s side, it did not have a birth date on it. It simply read:

  Madison Rogers

  Died July 2nd, 1930

  A great father. A great man.

  The wife’s name was Dawn Edwards Rogers. Nothing was filled out there.

  Belle stared at it for a moment. She could feel the anger rising in her body, threatening to overwhelm her.

  She turned to Dawn. “Is this some sort of game you are playing?”

  Dawn shook her head. “No, this is just one of the secrets you promised to never reveal.”

  “And what secret exactly might that be?” Belle said, her voice low and cold and biting.

  Damn she was mad. She just realized she had wasted a lot of money getting up here for this scam, whatever it was. And she was fairly certain she would never see that money repaid.

  “My name is Dawn Edwards Rogers,” Dawn said.

  “I am supposed to be buried in that grave,” Madison said, stepping forward. “But if you dug up that old casket, you would find it empty.”

  “So what kind of stupid vampire live-forever joke is going on here?” Belle asked.

  The only two who didn’t laugh at that were Belle and Zane. She didn’t find it funny at all, but the other five sure did.

  The laughing slowly died off among the tombstones and large ancient trees.

  Belle was about to just walk off, get away from these nut cases who were claiming to be her great-great-grandparents, when Dawn pointed to Belle’s tablet case.

  “You connected with that?”

  Belle nodded.

  “Do a Google search on Dawn Edwards,” Dawn said.

  “That makes sense,” Zane said.

  Belle glanced at him as she pulled out her tablet, humoring the nut cases standing around her.

>   Zane stared at Dawn Edwards for a moment, then glanced at Madison Rogers for a moment before shaking his head. Belle had no idea what he had just realized.

  Everyone stood, waiting, as Belle fired up her tablet and quickly typed in Dawn Edwards’ name.

  What came up first were the credentials for Dr. Dawn Edwards. And the instant she saw the name in that context, she remembered the books.

  She was standing with Dawn Edwards, the bestselling historical author of a dozen books about the life and people in the Old West.

  She glanced at Dawn, who just shrugged.

  “Do a search on Madison Rogers,” Director Parks said.

  Belle quickly did, her hands shaking, because she knew exactly what she would find. He also was a bestselling author of over a dozen historical books, mostly about the mining wars and union fights in the Old West before 1900.

  Belle had read all of their books and admired the intense reality of the details they brought to their work. But never once had it occurred to her to put their names with her great-great-grandparents’ names.

  Why would she?

  After a moment of silence as they all stood among the tombstones, she looked up at Dawn again.

  To one side, Zane’s face was slightly pale as he must have realized without a search who was standing with them.

  Dawn nodded and smiled, then stuck out her hand for the tablet. “May I show you a picture?”

  Belle nodded and gave Dawn the tablet. Her anger was still there, but damned if it wasn’t draining away slowly. She had found herself standing with two of the top researchers and bestsellers in her field in a cemetery. Anger didn’t seem appropriate. She must have misunderstood what they were trying to say to her about the tombstone.

  Dawn nodded and then motioned for Zane to look at the photo as well as she handed the tablet back to Belle.

  Belle felt Zane move in beside her and look over her shoulder as she looked at a picture of four people taken on a rough board sidewalk of an old mining town.

  “I wrote a number of my books about the lost mining town of Roosevelt, Idaho,” Dawn said.

 

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