“The uranium contamination in the wells killed her,” Charlie said simply.
The rope fell away from Abigail’s hands.
“If she’d have moved to town with me her water would have been filtered and clean. She’d be alive. My son would be alive.”
Charlie shook his head. “The blame doesn’t rest with a woman who was living as her ancestors lived.”
Barrett focused on Charlie. “But I have Heather. She’ll make up for her grandmother’s stupid choices.”
Charlie shook his head. “Sorry, Mac. I don’t think Heather’s going to want anything to do with you from now on.”
Barrett shook his head. “She’s a teenager. She’ll go through her rebellion but she’ll come around. She’ll claim her heritage.”
“I think she’s more inclined to Ester’s side of the family.”
“She’ll never know about that weak bloodline.”
“She knows who she is. And she knows about the uranium in the wells.”
A twig snapped in the forest opposite the clearing from Nora. Barrett turned his head.
The conversation ended.
Charlie pulled his gun.
Nora wrapped an arm around Abigail and threw them both to the ground, landing on top of Abigail to protect her.
A gunshot erupted in the clearing.
46
Silence fell on the clearing as if the whole world paused. Who would have thought blurry, alcohol-sodden Charlie could be so razor sharp. He’d distracted Barrett and rattled him enough to get the upper hand. He was their hero.
Nora rolled off Abigail, anxious to see Barrett incapacitated and get Abigail back to the hospital.
Barrett stood by the rock, the gun pointed outward.
No! Charlie lay on his back. He let out a moan.
Abigail sat up and before Nora could grab her, jumped to her feet. “Charlie!” She ran across the clearing, flinging herself at Charlie’s side, sobbing real tears.
No words of adoration from Charlie, just a weak grunt. A dark stain spread from a spot under Charlie’s left shoulder.
“Oh, Charlie. He’s bleeding!”
Barrett stared at the scene. “They usually do when they get shot.”
Abigail sat on her knees and placed her hand onto the wound. “Get me something to dress this. I need to keep pressure on it.”
Barrett sounded almost light-hearted. “Don’t lose your head over it Abigail. None of you are going to make it out of here alive.”
Barrett swung the gun toward Nora. “They think you’re crazy. They’ll find you out here, your mother and Charlie murdered and a bullet through your brain, a tragic suicide.”
In a surprisingly sprite move for the big man, Barrett jumped toward Nora.
She froze, like a fainting goat, then suddenly darted to one side, out of his way.
Barrett swung an arm out and it brushed against her side as she twisted away.
Panting, he stopped and pointed his gun toward Abigail. “I can take care of your mother first.”
“No!” Nora charged him, intending to knock the gun away.
Barrett wrapped an iron arm around her, pulling her close enough to smell his sour sweat. He put the gun to her head. “Got to make sure the angle is right for suicide.”
Failure! She’d tried so hard but Barrett outsmarted, out-planned, out-everything. She was no match. Why hadn’t she gone to the cops? She couldn’t save herself, Abigail or Charlie. She’d done nothing for Scott. Cole probably lay somewhere in a pool of blood. She’d doomed the mountain to wither beneath the uranium snow.
Nora fought. She twisted her torso, kicked at the tree trunks that were Barrett’s legs. If she moved at all, it was only centimeters, not enough to dislodge the cold muzzle from her temple.
Wait. Something moved in the forest.
It couldn’t be the cops. Maybe the Hopi or Big Elk’s people waited out there, chortling over Barrett putting an end to Nora.
There is was again.
Leaves rustled in the forest and a branch snapped. A flash of blue shone in the lantern’s half-light. Suddenly a hulking figure burst into the clearing. Abbey trotted behind, tail wagging in welcome.
Barrett jerked his head toward the intruder and crushed Nora even closer to his side.
After a second of confusion, Nora finally identified the oddly shaped figure. He wore a kachina mask and full regalia of feathers and costume. He carried a hatchet adorned with ribbons and feathers. Usually frightening in its foreign aspects, the mask looked terrifying in the midnight forest.
Even in the sketchy light, she saw the turquoise of the mask, its plug mouth and slits for eyes, long pheasant tail feathers rising behind.
The kachina rushed across the clearing toward Barrett and Nora with his raised hatchet. Abbey barked and raced with the kachina.
Though the kachina was much shorter than Nora originally thought, he swung his hatchet and hit Barrett in the throat with the dull edge.
Barrett grunted, his grip loosening on Nora.
She pulled away and Abbey lunged in.
Barrett jerked Nora close again and smacked Abby on the head with his gun. Abbey yelped.
“Bastard!” She squirmed to get free and he tightened his arm around her.
The kachina darted in again, striking at Barrett’s gun arm, ripping the shirt on Barrett’s bicep.
Barrett swung Nora as he turned and tried to get a bead on the dancing kachina. Nora’s feet slid along the ground and she lost her balance. Barrett’s arm pinned her to his side and kept her from falling.
The kachina retreated across the clearing to Abigail and Charlie. He didn’t slow his zigzagged dance but the masked face turned toward them, as if checking on them.
Barrett raised his arm and sighted in on the kachina.
Abbey snarled and bared his teeth.
Nora regained her balance and braced on the ground. She watched Barrett’s finger and sprang against him when she saw it start to flex.
His shot hammered her ears but the bullet whizzed into the forest.
Something hit Barrett in the chest and fell to the ground. A rock.
One hand still pushing on Charlie’s chest, Abigail reached for another rock. She pulled her arm back and let it fly. Maybe years of golf lessons finally paid off in perfect aim.
Barrett ducked his head but the rock thudded into his temple.
The kachina circled back, hatchet raised.
“You crone! I wanted to marry you. Give you everything.” Barrett aimed his gun at Abigail.
Nora pitched and writhed and kicked, screaming in Barrett’s ear.
With incredible force, he flung Nora toward the rock where Abigail had perched. The back of her head cracked on the granite and she flopped to the ground. Her knee struck a rock and her leg went numb.
Abigail launched another rock. Stubborn, stupid, Abigail. Nora struggled to get to her feet but her leg wouldn’t move. “Run, Mother!”
Barrett took a step toward Abigail, the gun came up. He couldn’t miss. At that range, he’d rip a hole into Abigail that would tear her in two.
Nora dragged herself, fighting to stop Barrett.
Suddenly, the kachina flew from the forest straight at Barrett.
Barrett didn’t alter his aim at Abigail. The third shot exploded from Barrett’s gun.
A woman screamed.
47
Abigail screamed. And screamed again. The shrill ate into Barrett’s brain like an ice pick.
Barrett had shot her. She should be lying on top of Charlie, her blood gushing onto the forest floor. Why wasn’t she dead?
Abigail focused on a point behind him.
What was happening? Had he shot Nora instead? He swung his head around. No. Nora scrambled on the ground next to the boulder. He’d let go of her to aim at Abigail.
But Abigail was still alive.
Then he remembered. The kachina had darted from the forest. The fucking kachina. He’d ruined Barrett’s plan.
Abigail sobbed, her hand still pressing Charlie’s wound.
The kachina had flung himself in front of the bullet intended for Abigail. Barrett must have shot him.
Barrett looked at the spring. A pile of feathers, leather, and bright blue cloth soaked in the water.
Nora rose to her feet taking a shaky step toward the spring. She started to shake her head, tears coursing down her cheeks. “No. Oh god, no.”
Barrett’s skin turned to ice. He didn’t want to but couldn’t stop himself from taking a step toward the kachina.
His shot had blown the kachina backward to splash in the spring. It lay on its back.
Nora’s knees buckled and she fell to the ground. A primal scream erupted from her core like the death throes of the Mother.
Please. No. No. Barrett pleaded with the spirits of the mountain. He couldn’t look. He didn’t want to know. But his feet carried him the few steps to the spring.
The kachina mask floated from the face. Glassy eyes stared from under an inch of water. Heather lay in the spring, blood washing away from the bullet hole in her heart.
Epilogue
Snow fell in fat white splats on top of Nora’s Jeep. She hefted Abigail’s tapestry suitcase into the back and slammed the tailgate closed. Abbey sat in the passenger seat staring out the windshield. He may not know where they were going but he’d go with Nora anywhere.
Abigail stood behind her, arms folded as if the cold mountain air could penetrate her white down jacket. “I don’t know why you don’t get rid of this clunker and get a car more suitable to an executive.”
Abigail could be blown up and shot at and still, she kept her edge. What a woman. “No one will pay attention to what I drive, especially since I intend to ride my bike everywhere.”
Abigail sniffed. “Always the fanatic.”
“It’s Boulder, Mother. I’ll fit right in.”
Abigail wouldn’t concede. “I thought your tree-hugging days were over. You should drive a sporty, sexy car. You know what they say, ‘Dress for the job you want, not the one you have.’”
Nora bent over and kissed Abigail’s cheek. “I don’t want that kind of job.”
Charlie stepped close behind Abigail and put his arms around her, drawing her into him. “That’s the spirit, darlin’. You keep a foot in the mountains and don’t let the city corrupt you.”
The tied-dyed rusted heap of Benny’s pickup rumbled into the parking lot. They watched while he climbed out and walked to them. “Heard you’re heading north.”
Nora grinned. “I suppose Nakwaiyamtewa told you.”
He shrugged, a hint of smile around his eyes. “Did I tell you he is my grandfather?”
Made perfect sense. Nora took hold of his hand. “I’m glad you came to say good bye. I want to thank you or apologize or, I don’t know.”
“You’ve said that before.”
Charlie kissed the top of Abigail’s head. “Are you warm enough?”
Abigail stepped out of his embrace. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s only October. If I can’t handle the weather now, how do you suppose I’ll survive January?”
Good question. How would Abigail fare in Charlie’s little cabin on the edge of the forest with the nearest fashion mall 120 miles away in Phoenix, no luncheons to hostess or Junior League meetings to preside over?
Charlie shook his head. “Fire and vinegar. That’s my Abbie”
Abigail fought the smile that crept to her face. She gave in and patted Charlie’s cheek. “Queen Abbie, to you.”
“As always, my dear.”
Benny pulled a small cloth pouch from his jeans pocket and gave it to Nora. “I have something I want you to do.” He placed the pouch in her hand. “When you get to Colorado, plant these corn seeds. Sing to them. If you do this one small thing, it will help me.”
“How will that help you?”
He nearly grinned, big emotion for him. “It will help the whole world but I like to think of you doing this to help balance me.”
“Don’t you grow enough corn for your own balance?”
He nodded. “But I have been given responsibility to spend a large pot of money the Gray Hair followers of Big Elk gave to Hopi. It’s guilt from the harm Big Elk did. We’ll use it to clean up the uranium in the water.”
Nora squeezed the seeds and already felt protective of them. She hugged Benny and watched as he drove away.
Nora gazed at the mountain visible from the road in front of Charlie’s cabin. Snow accumulated in the pine boughs, the ground already blanketed in white.
Charlie followed her gaze. “One good thing came of all this. The mountain can be herself again.”
Tears threatened. Scott’s ashes lay on the ground of that mountain. Heather’s blood soaked into the soil. “But what cost?”
Charlie put an arm around her shoulders. “You sure you don’t want that money, honey?”
Nora shook her head throat too tight for words. While Barrett sat in jail without bond, speaking to no one, without the heart or life to even assist his attorneys with a viable defense, he sent Nora a complicated plan for her approval.
If she sold her interests in Kachina Ski to an environmental trust at an inflated price, the trust would secure protection for the mountain to remain undeveloped. It would be available to the tribes who held it sacred and would be forever named the Heather McCreary Wilderness. McCreary Energy set it up to fund the trust in perpetuity.
Nora agreed immediately, hoping Heather would have been pleased. She signed the money over to Abigail.
Of course Abigail protested. But Nora reasoned that since Abigail’s husband gave Kachina Ski to Nora, the proceeds after her debt should go back to Abigail. Her mother retained her pride and Nora cut all ties with the mountain that had taken so much from her.
“Cole called to ask about you this morning,” Abigail said. The woman was nothing if not relentless.
“That’s nice.” Keep it short. Get in the car. Drive away before the litany begins.
Too late. “I wish you’d give him a chance to explain.”
Nora clenched her jaw. “He kept secrets from me. I don’t need someone like that in my life.”
Charlie shook his head. “I lied to you too, sugar.”
“And I’m not done being mad at you, either.” She kissed him on the top of the head, anyway. “But you’re in my life and I already love you. Aside from you and Abigail, I want to forget everything about Kachina Peak. That includes Cole.”
Abigail acted like a pushy sales person. “You’re being stubborn, Nora. He started out trying to nail Barrett for bribing Congress.”
Nora turned her back and stepped toward the driver’s door. “You’ve said all this before. I need to get on the road.”
Abigail grabbed her hand. “But he was only trying to protect you. When he suspected Barrett was involved in Scott’s murder, well, he…”
Nora wrenched open the Jeep door. “Not listening, Abigail.”
Her mother sniffed. “So now it’s not ‘Mother’ anymore.”
Nora kissed Charlie’s cheek. “Take care of her,” she said.
Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a beer. He started to pull the tab and glanced at Abigail. Her slight frown made him redeposit the can in his pocket, unopened. “I believe we’ll be taking care of each other.”
Nora hugged her mother. “I love you.” She climbed into the Jeep, set the wipers in motion and pulled away.
Giving in to the urge, she let her eyes wander to the rearview mirror, certain of what she’d see.
It was no surprise the kachina man stood in the trees watching her leave.
Skies of Fire
A Nora Abbott Mystery
To Dave: Home is wherever I’m with you.
1
Sylvia LaFever simply had to have it. If the Trust won’t give me an advance, I’ll force Eduardo to pay for it. I’m going to make him the wealthiest man on the planet.
But of course, he wouldn’t want anyone to
know that.
Sylvia stared at the photo of the Chihuly chandelier on her laptop. She’d never have another chance at something so perfect for her dining room. At $90,000 it was a steal. The Trust could cough up the money. They owed it to me.
A squeaky voice broke into Sylvia’s thoughts. “I’ve finished the initial calculations on the refractory angle but it seems like we’re way off.”
Sylvia slammed the top of her computer closed. “Nice work, Petal.”
Petal stood in front of Sylvia, a mass of dreadlocks on a too-skinny body. As usual, layers of gauze and hand-knitted rags swathed Petal. She mumbled, “When the plume excites the ionosphere, are we monitoring the disturbances in the 100 km range to see if this leads to short term climatic alterations?”
Questions, chatter, like a million needles into her brain. Sylvia bestowed a patient smile on Petal. “It’s complicated and I don’t have time to explain it to you. If you earn your PhD we can have a more meaningful conversation about the principles behind ELF and short term climate fluctuations.”
For god’s sake, Petal’s eyes teared up. She swallowed. “I just wondered because the coordinates bounce the beam to South America.”
Sylvia rolled her chair away from her desk, the wheels rickety on the plastic carpet guard. I deserve better than this drafty space tacked on to the aging farmhouse that Loving Earth Trust is so proud to call headquarters. The slapped-up dry wall and builder-grade windows are bad enough but they’d simply laid industrial carpet atop a concrete floor with minimal padding.
Rust-colored carpet. Disgusting.
Maybe the sparse computer equipment covered the Trust’s simplistic climate change modeling project, but for the magic Eduardo demanded, she needed more sophisticated hardware.
Sylvia stopped short of patting Petal on the arm, never sure when Petal showered last. “If you do as I tell you and watch and learn, you’ll gain more knowledge than asking me questions all the time.”
The Nora Abbott Mystery series Box Set Page 28
