Robbed of Soul: Legends of Treasure Book 1

by Lois D. Brown

  It was practically the same question he had asked her the first day she’d met him, when he’d driven her home after her meltdown in the cave.

  The fact that he had asked her the same question here, in front of Whitney and Charlie, made Maria mad. How dare he put her on the spot like this? She didn’t want to make him look stupid in front of the Thatchers, but there was no way she was going to say she believed in the supernatural. Just because she saw ghosts all the time didn’t mean she believed they were real.

  “I don’t. Ghosts are the product of an imaginative, traumatized mind.” She’d said it, and she’d meant it.

  Rod glared at her for a solid five seconds, which felt more like a minute in a room as quiet as this one was. At last, he looked down at his plate and shoveled food into his mouth. The evening was not going well. Maria hadn’t gotten to the subject of Whitney’s alibi, she hadn’t gotten a sample of her hair, and she was mad at Rod for having asked her about ghosts.

  If there was one subject Maria had no desire to discuss, it was ghosts. The rest of dinner consisted of a little bit of small talk and of Whitney telling them about her job. Before dessert was served, Rod said he had an early morning meeting and he needed to get some work done before turning in. It was an excuse for Maria to gracefully excuse herself as well.

  As the Thatchers escorted Rod and Maria to the front room to say goodbye, Maria realized she still had to get the hair sample. “Whitney, do you have a curling iron I could borrow? Mine broke, but I have to get my picture taken tomorrow for a news story Sherrie Mercer is writing about me.”

  Whitney looked pleased to help. “Oh, totally. Hang on a second.”

  She returned a minute later with a wide barrel and offered it to Maria.

  “Thank you so much. I will get it back to you ASAP,” Maria said. She glanced down at it. The metal was a little old. The top plastic edge, where people hold to avoid burning their fingers, was brown around the edges. But none of that mattered because in the hinged area, where the lever met the barrel, was what Maria needed. A tangled mess of hairs were caught in the crack.

  A home run!

  Maria took her grandfather’s box and the curling iron with her out the door. Once it was just the two of them on the front sidewalk, Rod began to use that hypnotic voice of his. “Listen, about the funeral … Tara makes this stuff up. I had actually been looking forward to sitting by you when she popped into the conversation saying—”

  “My hands are full,” Maria interrupted, still thinking about the maddening question about ghosts Rod had asked her at the dinner table. “I gotta go. Everything’s cool.” Balancing everything in one hand, Maria opened the passenger door to her jeep with the other. She threw her grandfather’s box and Whitney’s curling iron inside on the seat and closed the door.

  Rod stood a couple of yards away, watching and looking slightly perturbed himself.

  Maria opened the driver’s door and slid inside. “See you,” she called out and waved. Turning, so he couldn’t see her face, Maria shoved the stick shift into reverse and jolted out of the Thatcher’s driveway.

  At least she had done one thing right tonight.

  She hadn’t let Rod Thorton get to her.

  Maria was completely in control.

  [Freddie’s cave] in Johnson Canyon was just a diversion, a red herring designed to throw gold seekers off the track. The actual place where Montezuma buried his treasure … is in another canyon ten miles to the west—at the bottom of an algae-green pond called Three Lakes.

  –Range Magazine. “Montezuma’s Revenge” by Richard Menzies, Fall Issue 1998.

  Chapter 21

  “IT’S TRUE. ROD GOT mad and so did I. We both left early. I knew we weren’t a good match.” Maria felt guilty calling Beth at this time of night. Her friend had her own life to take care of—a husband and three kids. But Maria hadn’t been able to get Rod out of her mind. At dinner, he’d looked at her as if she’d run over his favorite dog. And then when she’d taken off outside? Good grief. It’d been like someone had taken the man’s appendix out without medication.

  Maria should be the one mad at him. He had put her on the spot in front of the Thatchers. He’d assumed she’d seen a ghost in the cave. He’d even tried to put words into her mouth the night after her meltdown in the cave, but she hadn’t said them. The man hadn’t left well enough alone.

  However, perhaps she hadn’t needed to say what she did—that people who believed in ghosts were mentally ill. It wasn’t really fair. Rod was probably just a little superstitious. There was nothing horrible about that. It wasn’t like he was crazy like her.

  “Honestly, Rod’s not the type to get mad,” Beth answered. “I bet you read him wrong.”

  “Nope. He was mad. I promise.” Maria knew anger when she saw it. “I pretty much insulted him.”

  “Then you should apologize,” concluded Beth. “Rod is one of the nicest guys I know. And he’s been through a lot. Do you know Tara was the first person he’d dated in years? Ever since his wife ran off and left him. For three years the man did nothing but sit and hope she’d come back. He totally cried the day he got divorced. And then, after moving back to Kanab, he had the bad fortune of getting snared in Tara’s web. At least he had enough sense to get out of it. So, give him a break. All right?”

  Beth’s words sank deep into Maria. Rod really had been nothing but nice to her. Why did she treat him like she did? It had a lot more to do with her own state of mind than it did with Rod’s qualities.

  “Should I do something?” Maria asked Beth. “Call him? Text him? But what do I say?”

  “You’re not going to like my answer,” said Beth.

  “Actually, I’d like any ideas you have. I don’t know what to say to people most of the time.”

  “First, tell me why you care what Rod thinks?” asked Beth.

  Why did she? Maria sniffed and rubbed her nose. “He seems like a nice guy. I don’t want to make enemies in the town, especially not with the head of Search and Rescue.”

  Beth didn’t respond for a second. “Nothing else?”

  Maria sighed. “Maybe.”

  Beth’s voice perked up. “All right. That’s at least sort of an honest answer. So here’s my advice. When you talk with Rod, be yourself. Don’t overthink everything. And open up for goodness sakes! You have so many secrets. I never know if what you’re saying is really what you think. Be upfront. You don’t need to tell me how you feel, but if you want to smooth things out with him, you need to tell him the truth.”

  The words stung Maria. Secrets were a part of who she was. Legally, she wasn’t allowed to tell people half of the things she knew.

  “Are you saying I’m a liar?” Maria bit her lip. Her tone was a little more upset than she’d wanted to sound.

  “No, not a liar. Well, kind of. Listen, I know your life is totally different from mine. You know important people. You investigate people’s secrets. And I’m pretty sure you have some big ones about yourself. The problem is little by little, you’ve let your professional habit of holding back the truth creep into your personal life. Your life’s a show. You’re not happy. Open up to someone. Let someone in.”

  “I …” Maria had nothing to say to that. There was no comeback because Beth was right.

  “I’ve got to go,” said Beth. “It sounds like my baby is up again. She’s been teething. No hard feelings, okay? You asked for my advice. You know me. I don’t hold back, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

  “No hard feelings.” Maria’s lips quivered. “It’s all good.”

  “Okay, goodnight, Maria.”

  “Goodnight.” Maria stared at the screen of her cell phone as the clock on her living room wall ticked off the minutes until morning.

  *

  At a quarter past midnight, Maria opened her contacts list and found Rod’s name. She touched it and the phone dialed. There was no going back. He would see it was her number.

  “Hello.” Rod didn’t sound t
ired.

  “Hi.” Be the new “open Maria”, she told herself.

  “Hi.”

  Nothing else.

  He was not going to make this easy.

  “Rod, I’m sorry.” Maria sounded sincere. She was proud of herself.

  “For what?”

  “For insinuating that you are mentally unstable because you believe in ghosts.”

  “Oh, that?”

  “Yes, that.”

  “It’s cool.”

  A long pause.

  “You sure?” Maria didn’t know how to respond to his two-word sentences.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Well, that’s all I was call—” Maria stopped. The new “open Maria” would not end a conversation this way. Things were obviously not okay. “Rod?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I come over? I’d love to check out some more constellations with you.”

  There was a silence on the other end, enough to make Maria feel beads of sweat on her upper lip.

  “I’ll get the hot chocolate ready,” he said. “See you in five.”

  “I’ll hurry. I hate cold cocoa.”

  *

  The green laser lay unused on the wooden bench where Rod and Maria sat outside in Rod’s backyard. Their cups of cocoa were half empty. Maria huddled inside a fluffy fleece blanket Rod had gotten for her once he’d noticed her shivering in the chill desert night air. She’d forgotten her UGG boots.

  Rod turned to look at Maria. “I have a confession.” He wore a navy blue hoodie that brought out the ocean in his eyes. And he smelled of clean, fresh linen. A day’s growth of stubble darkened his jawline, but as usual, it wasn’t haphazard—it was manicured stubble that gave off a gritty yet sophisticated look.

  As he smiled, it was hard for Maria not to watch his mouth. He was animated and witty. His face held so much expression when he spoke. She purposely scooted a little bit closer. Their shoulders rubbed.

  “What’s your confession?” asked Maria. They still hadn’t addressed the subject of ghosts.

  “I’ve been stalking you online.”

  Maria laughed. “I looked you up, too. Nothing too exciting, I must say. Lawyers on LinkedIn lead pretty dull lives.”

  “Well, I’ve been keeping my eye on you for a couple of years.”

  Maria sat up, the blanket falling to her lap. “What? But we didn’t know each other.”

  “Technically, I did know you,” said Rod. “From high school. You just don’t remember me.”

  Maria pursed her lips. “Hold on, maybe I do. It’s just that I don’t know who I’m trying to remember. From your description of yourself you’ve … errr … changed. I think what I need is a yearbook. Then I can tell you for sure.”

  “Sorry,” said Rod, head back, looking into the sky. “I don’t have any.”

  Disappointed, Maria asked, “Where are they?”

  “Burned up.”

  “Ah!” Maria gasped. “That was a little overkill, wasn’t it? You couldn’t have looked that bad.”

  Laughter spilled from Rod. “It wasn’t on purpose. Typically I don’t tell the chief of police these sorts of things, but since I wouldn’t actually mind if you arrested me for the night, I’ll risk it. It was right before the senior graduation all-nighter. For fun, my friend and I decided to make mini-explosives with my chemistry set and … well … my yearbooks, headboard, shoes, desk all got in the way of the project.

  Maria stared at him in disbelief. “You did not blow up your bedroom. You’re teasing me.”

  “Pretty much. If you don’t believe me,” he said, “I’ll call my mom right now, and we’ll settle the dispute.” He pulled out his phone.

  Maria laughed and tried to grab it away from him. He turned and held it higher into the air so she couldn’t reach it.

  “Okay, fine.” Maria surrendered. “So maybe I don’t remember you as well as you remember me from high school, but that still doesn’t explain why you’ve been stalking me for three years. I mean, I could book you into jail for less creepy stuff than that.”

  “It’s pretty much Beth’s fault.” Rod pulled the blanket back up around Maria’s shoulders, tucking it behind her back. His breath was warm on her forehead. “Ever since I moved back to Kanab, Beth has been bugging me to ask you out. The first time she cut my hair, I sat down in her chair and she said, ‘I know the perfect woman for you to date.’ ”

  “Oh no,” groaned Maria. “She said that for real?”

  “Yep.”

  Maria put her hands up to her cheeks. “She’s crazy.”

  “She is,” agreed Rod. “Every time I came back for a haircut, she’d pull out her phone and make me read everything you’d posted on Facebook.”

  “Why did you keep going back to her?” asked Maria. “You could have changed stylists you know. There is that 100-year-old barber on Center Street.”

  “I kept going back because I liked it. When we stalked you together it didn’t feel so … pathetic.”

  There was no way to stop the blush that crept up her chest and onto her cheeks.

  “But then almost two years ago it was like you dropped off the edge of the planet. Together we tried calling you, but there was no answer. In fact, there was some weird automated message from the phone company. Beth was worried. She called your work several times, but she only got messages saying you were overseas.”

  The warmth Maria had felt in her face turned cold. She didn’t want to talk about this now. Not when she had promised herself to be the new open Maria.

  “Where did you go?” Rod asked.

  Maria knew her absence had worried people. Her parents, of course, some old college friends, neighbors, etc. But she’d never thought about Beth checking in for months on end to see some new post from her on Facebook. And Rod was doing it too! Had she known someone as charming as Rod was rooting for her … Well, it certainly would have given her something else to think about in her cement cell in Tehran.

  It took Maria a second to realize Rod was still waiting for an answer. “I was in the Middle East, working for the CIA. You know, as a communications analyst. I thought Beth knew that.”

  “The Middle East is a big place, Maria. You can’t be more specific?”

  Maria didn’t answer.

  “Beth thought you’d been killed or captured. No one in your family would give her any straight answers.” Rod rested his arm on the top of the bench behind Maria. She fit snuggly into his side, next to his chest. She could hear the thumping of his heart. The deepness of his breath. Even a few gurgles from his stomach chimed in.

  “Maria, were you really just a communications analyst?”

  This question was why lies existed. This was why she should never make promises to be open Maria. It was simply impossible. Maria flopped her head back, hitting Rod’s arm. She closed her eyes, took in a lungful of air, and then opened her eyes again.

  Rod searched her face. His gaze was sincere. Genuine.

  It struck Maria that Rod had worried about her before he really knew her as anything more than a goofy teenage girl. Regardless, he’d cared about her well-being. He’d listened to Beth’s concerns. He’d tried to console her. And now he needed to know. He needed to know where she’d disappeared to. Why she’d seemed to fall off the face of the earth.

  Maybe there was a way to be more open without telling the complete truth.

  Maria moved in closer to his side. It warmed her from the inside out. “I could insist that I worked for the CIA in Tehran as a communications analyst.”

  “Yes, you could.” Rod nodded.

  “And I could tell you that while there I became ill and was treated in a hospital where I became infected with a virus that about killed me.”

  “Okay …” said Rod, slowly.

  “And I could tell you that I wasn’t allowed back into the United States until I had a clean bill of health, which was for about a year.”

  Rod took a quick sip of his cocoa.

  “But,” continued
Maria, “I’m not going to tell you all of that because it would be a lie. Instead, let me just say that really bad things happen to good people.” Her voice broke. She couldn’t go on.

  The two sat in silence, listening to the night sounds.

  “I’m so sorry,” Rod said quietly. “You’re right. You are a good person.”

  A snort escaped Maria’s mouth. “Oh, I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about the people who worked with me in Tehran.” She looked up into the night sky scattered with beautiful stars and hoped he would stop asking questions. There was nothing more she could tell him.

  “That’s not true. From everything Beth has told me … From everything I’ve seen …” Rod leaned his head down and whispered into her ear, “Sometimes it’s hard to believe in yourself. I understand.”

  Rod shivered. Maria grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it over him as far as it would reach. They were both cold, but neither wanted to break the comfortable position they’d found themselves in.

  Clearing his throat, Rod spoke a little more loudly. “So, you’ve probably been wondering about my ghost obsession.” He gave a fake laugh, but there was obviously nothing funny about it to him.

  To be honest, Maria would have preferred not to talk about ghosts. However, she could tell this was something he needed to get off his chest.

  “It started when I was in high school. My uncle, he owns a place around here called Three Lakes. Have you heard of it?”

  “Of course,” Maria said. “We pass it on the way to get to Moquith Mountains where Mayor Hayward was mur… died.” She didn’t want to talk about her job right now.

  “Exactly.” Rod’s typically steady voice quavered.

  “I also know there was information about it in some of my grandfather’s things. It has a connection with Montezuma’s treasure, right?”

  “Again, correct.” Rod forced a smile. “My uncle found a petroglyph by one of the caves. It’s a circle with a line going through it. The same one it sounds like your grandfather drew in the sketchbook. Anyhow, my uncle was pretty sure it was an Aztec symbol for a water trap.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a way the Aztec used to hide things precious to them. They would dam up a lake, create or expand an existing cave, and then let the water back in. It would fill up the cave and cover with water the treasure and usually a bunch of Aztec slaves and a few warriors, who were drowned to guard the stuff.”