“Mom, I think anything is possible.”
A sensation of lightness filled the room. “Thank you.”
The following morning Sam broached the subject with Doctor Albertson, minus the parts about magic. She had checked their insurance coverage. A home nursing service would be covered. And Sam could learn how to monitor and change the feeding and hydration bags. A proper bed could be rented and set up in the spare downstairs bedroom.
“I can’t recommend such a drastic action,” he said immediately.
“My husband will be better off at home,” she insisted. “You’ve already told me there isn’t much more you can do for him medically. He’ll wake up from the coma when he’s ready, and I can’t imagine that he must be in this building for it to happen.”
“I can’t let you do this.”
She gave him a level stare. Watch me.
He turned his back and walked away. Sam called Zoë, who knew a skilled nurse practitioner.
“Sam, you have two businesses to run. How will you handle all this?” were Zoë’s first words.
“Better than I’m handling it from Albuquerque,” Sam replied. “I need to be back in Taos. Beau needs to be back there. Can you contact your nurse friend, or at least give me her number?”
Within two days, Sam had the details arranged for the Taos end of the new setup—bed, nurse, medical supplies. The doctors in Albuquerque all tried to talk her out of making the move, and Albertson ended up writing “Patient checked out against medical advice” in large letters across the form. The ICU nurses wished them well. An ambulance service made the transfer to the waiting airplane, Sam rode at Beau’s side, and Kelly drove Sam’s truck home.
The visiting nurse insisted on staying at her patient’s side through the first night, to monitor all vital signs and be sure the trip had not harmed him. It was after ten p.m. when Sam sneaked the carved box out of the closet safe and carried it upstairs where she held it close and concentrated on pulling its healing energy into her hands.
She left the box upstairs and went down to her husband’s side.
“I need a few minutes alone with him,” she told the nurse. “The kettle on the kitchen stove is hot. Help yourself to something if you’d like.”
Alone, Sam cupped her hands on each side of Beau’s face and kissed him tenderly. If she’d been expecting a Sleeping Beauty wake-up scenario, it didn’t happen. She continued to touch him, running her hands down his neck, across his shoulders and down the arms. Still no change. His chest and shoulder still showed angry red scars from the wounds. She placed a hand over each area and let the warmth seep into his skin. Nothing happened. Disappointment surged over her. She’d felt so certain about this.
She lowered herself onto the bedside chair and watched. Sitting beside his bed in the spare bedroom was only a slight improvement over sitting by a similar bed in the hospital. The reminders were still there, the prognosis still so uncertain. When the nurse returned, Sam bade her goodnight and went upstairs.
It would probably take more than one session, she told herself as she brushed her teeth. When Kelly touched the wounds it had taken several treatments. She repeated the thought like a mantra, then climbed into Beau’s side of the king-sized bed, wanting to warm it for him.
Please, please, please … she whispered. Please let him be back in this bed beside me very soon.
Chapter 59
“He did just great through the night,” the nurse said the next morning as Sam poured two bowls of cereal in the kitchen. “From this point on, it’s your choice how often to have me here. Of course, I’ll at least come by twice a day to check on things, to replenish his hydration and nutrient bags.”
Sam had gone to Beau’s side immediately after she woke up, hoping to see a sign that he was aware of his surroundings, but nothing had changed. He lay on his back, peacefully sleeping, not a muscle moving.
“Can you stay for an hour or two this morning?” Sam asked. “I need to run a couple of errands and stock up on groceries.”
“Certainly. I’d be happy to.”
Among the errands was a stop at Puppy Chic, Riki’s grooming shop, where Ranger and Nellie would be waiting to come home. Maybe the presence of the dogs would be part of the magic formula to awaken Beau. Sam knew she was grasping at straws, but was willing to try whatever might work. Plus, Kelly was back on the job today and Sam wanted to run an idea past her.
“I’m coming with you,” Kelly said. “This isn’t something you should tackle on your own.”
“We’ll be back for the dogs soon,” Sam told Riki after thanking her profusely for giving Kelly so much extra time off.
The sheriff’s department felt different in subtle ways without Beau there. His private office stood dark and silent. It made Sam sad and glad at the same time. At least they expected Beau to return, had not replaced him. Although when she heard Dixie, the dispatcher, tell someone on the phone that she would put them through to ‘acting sheriff Evan Richards’ it sent a pang through her heart. If Beau didn’t wake up and come back soon, the county would be forced to appoint someone else in his place.
She and Kelly walked into the squad room. Rico spotted them immediately and jumped up from his chair. Evan was on the phone but waved from his desk across the room.
“Sam, is anything changed?” Rico asked, his young face so hopeful it made Sam want to hug him.
She shook her head. “But we’re hopeful. We just have to see how it goes now with him at home.” She took his arm and led him toward Beau’s office door. “I understand you caught the man who shot him.”
Rico nodded.
“I want to see his personal effects.”
The deputy wanted to ask why, she could tell, but his natural respect for Beau’s position kept the questions at bay. “Everything’s in the evidence locker, as instructed.”
Evan Richards had finished his phone call and he walked over. Sam repeated the request, and he signaled Rico to retrieve the box of evidence. He had the key to Beau’s office, so he opened the door and switched on the lights.
“Mind if I ask what you’re looking for?” he asked.
Sam was saved from an immediate answer when Rico showed up and placed the box on Beau’s desk. Each item was bagged separately, she noticed, as was standard procedure. There was a navy and black daypack, which had probably been new a few weeks ago. Now it was stained with dark blotches of what might be blood and covered with a thick dusting of mountain dirt. A cell phone, a roll of gauze bandage, a lightweight windbreaker jacket, a nearly empty bottle of aspirin, a watch and a ring. The pistol—she couldn’t look at it; her thoughts would run rampant.
And the box.
She stared at the carved object, so similar to hers but so different. The wood was nearly pure black and the stones shone with a dull glint. It was difficult to see their colors, although she suspected they would be the same red, green and blue she already knew. She wondered what happened to the artifact when it was touched—both by a person of good intent and by someone with bad wishes. She picked it up gingerly. Kelly drew in a sharp breath and took a step back.
“That was inside the backpack,” Rico said. “Just an empty box. We can’t figure out what he had it for.”
Sam’s fingers grew cold, as even through the plastic the box exerted an influence.
“We have to get rid of this,” she whispered. “It’s too close to him.”
“Ma’am, it’s part of the evidence found on the suspect,” Rico said. He also took a step back, she noticed.
Sam turned to Evan. “Is this box actually connected to the crime?”
He fidgeted from one foot to the other. “Well, not that we know. I mean there’s no blood or trace evidence on it. Lisa checked it briefly, but she didn’t seem to want to touch it much.”
“And you have enough to take Fitch to trial without this box?”
“Oh, definitely. The rifle the Feds found is a match for the Robards killing, and this .45, well, it’s a match for Beau�
�” Evan cleared his throat. “Marcus Fitch is going away forever, Sam.”
“So the box was just a personal item that happened to be in Fitch’s possession when you arrested him.” Sam didn’t break eye contact.
“What are you saying, Sam? You want to take it?”
“It’s best if we have this conversation alone,” she said, giving Rico the eye. The younger deputy took the hint and backed out of the room.
Sam’s fingers were freezing now and she set the box down on the desk. “Evan, you’ll have to trust me on this. If this box does not provide some direct evidence to the shooting, I need to take it with me.”
“But—”
“I know about chain of evidence and all that. I also know that you are only the acting sheriff and this puts a burden on you. If there’s a way to make it disappear from the list of Fitch’s personal items, maybe you can make that happen. Or if you want to turn your back and later make a note that one item went missing from the box … that might be the way it goes.”
Kelly tapped Sam’s wrist. “Mom … there’s the other thing … about the method.”
Sam stopped. Kelly was right—they would need help with this.
The old witch’s description in the book had said the boxes could only be destroyed by the same method they were created—a direct strike of lightning. She had brooded over this for days now. How would she manage, even if she carried the box into a thunderstorm, to assure lightning would strike the box and destroy it?
She turned to Evan again. “Do you happen to have a way to create an explosion?”
Chapter 60
They drove out into the desert at midnight, Evan’s low headlights cutting through the black landscape. Appropriately, it was the night of the new moon. Starlight sparkled above but did not give off enough illumination for anyone to witness their mission.
The property belonged to a rancher Evan had known, twenty miles west of Taos, covered in sagebrush with only two narrow tracks leading off the county road. It was one of those wannabe dreams, land that would one day become a sheep ranch—only it never had. The old rancher had died years ago, before building a single structure, and it seemed his heirs would never come claim the place. It was ideal for their purpose tonight.
Sam was, frankly, surprised she’d convinced Evan to help. It must have been something in the fact that she’d handled Virtu this morning, giving Beau another dose of its healing power. Maybe Evan had responded with kindness for the same reason. She didn’t know. She only knew that he’d quietly brought out a brown paper bag to hold the box, and she had carried it out of the department without questions from anyone.
She had stashed the package in a locked cupboard at the Victorian chocolate factory, hoping—praying—the evil box would not somehow find a way out. She didn’t dare take it home. Beau’s condition was too fragile and her own abilities to deal with the bad side of magic too new. A half hour ago she had retrieved Facinor from the cupboard and gingerly carried it as she and Kelly met Evan for their mission.
Evan brought his black Jeep Wrangler to a stop. “This should be a good place,” he said.
He’d dressed in military camouflage and the weapon he brought from the back of the Jeep made both Sam and Kelly stare wide-eyed. He hadn’t directly answered her question about explosives. His silent nod was the only answer.
Using whispers and a flashlight with a red lens, he and Sam carried the evil box twenty-five yards farther down the dirt track.
“Take it out of the bag and set it there on the ground,” he said.
She did as ordered, wadding up the paper sack and plastic evidence bag together.
“Go back to the Jeep.”
For a moment Sam wondered what she’d got herself into, but Evan’s confidence allayed her worries. He took a stance, aimed the grenade launcher, switched on a red beam trained on the box, and fired. The explosion seemed deafening in the quiet night, but it was gone in seconds. They waited in total darkness for two full minutes, but no sign appeared that anyone had noticed.
All three of them walked to the spot where the box had stood. A blackened smudge about three feet in diameter marked the dirt. Tiny shards of wood had landed in some of the sagebrush, and when Evan shone a light around Sam saw they were scattered over a wide area. Some of the pieces flamed for a few seconds before they died.
While Evan kicked dirt over the blackened earth, Sam felt relief wash over her. Facinor, the artifact whose powers had haunted her and enabled a killer, no longer existed.
Chapter 61
The drive back to town passed in silence, and Sam knew none of the three would speak of this again. Evan delivered the ladies to the driveway at the Victorian, where they had left their vehicles scarcely an hour earlier.
“It feels surreal, doesn’t it?” Kelly said after Evan drove away. “A month ago, I didn’t know about any of this. Tonight, I feel like we did something that will change the world.”
Sam nodded. There was no way to explain it differently, although she still believed there was more to her mission. First, she had to get Beau back. She’d just reached into her pocket for her truck key when she sensed movement beyond the portico.
“Miss Sam. Miss Kelly.” The voice was unmistakable.
“Bobul!” Kelly rushed forward, almost taking him into a hug. His reserved demeanor stopped her a step short of physical contact.
“Bobul, how did you get here?” Sam asked. Silly, she realized. He never explained himself.
“Bobul bring a friend to meet you.” He turned, and an old woman stepped from behind him. She was so tiny that his bulk had completely concealed her. “Bertha Martinez,” he said.
“Bertha—?” Sam’s thoughts flew back to the old woman who’d given her the box. But she had died that day.
The little woman in front of them laughed. “Yes, I’m Bertha Martinez, but the one you are thinking of was my aunt.”
“Miss Bertha bring you a message,” said Bobul.
Sam wasn’t certain who he meant, since he kept looking at Kelly.
“It’s about the boxes,” Bertha said. “I suppose I should explain a little. I only knew my aunt for a brief time when I was a little girl. She had a legacy as a healer, a curandera, here in this area, and she wanted to pass that along to me. Unfortunately, my parents had careers and moved our family back east so I never got to know my namesake aunt very well. But from the time we spent together, I knew a little about the powers of the carved box.”
Sam’s smile froze. Was this Bertha here to reclaim the box? She thought of Beau—she still needed the box.
Bertha seemed to read her mind. “I am not here to take it. Nor yours,” she said, facing Kelly.
Of course. Bobul would have told her about Kelly’s find in England.
“From the time I was small I was enchanted with the story about the box. I combed libraries everywhere—my parents moved us around a lot—and I found small tidbits of information. I made it my lifelong hobby to learn what I could, and I eventually put together the story about there being three boxes. But I knew one was not good. That box gave men of evil intent the power to carry out their deeds.”
Sam nodded. She knew all this by now, too.
“The bad one is gone now.” Bertha said it without question. “I cannot say how I know this—it is just a feeling. The box was near here somewhere, and now it’s gone.”
Sam sent Kelly a warning glance. They still did not really know this woman.
“What I came to tell you—what Bobul brought me here for—is to let you know that the future of good magic rests with you now. Samantha and Kelly—together you will do great things.”
“My husband … he’s been gravely hurt …”
“All will be different now,” Bertha said. “But it will turn out well. My aunt passed the box to you for a reason. I do not know what that reason is, but I trust her instinct in choosing you.”
Sam remembered the day. She’d been breaking into houses back then, and coming upon the dying
old woman in a supposedly empty house had been purely a fluke. Hadn’t it?
“Virtu and Manichee are yours and Kelly’s now, beyond a doubt. They are your destiny. Use them well. Practice using their power to achieve good things. And one day you will find another person to whom you will pass along each of the boxes. The answers will come to you, each in good time. Always remember, two are more powerful than one.”
Bertha stepped aside, looping her thin arm through Bobul’s. He patted her hand then raised two fingers to the brim of the wooly looking hat he always wore.
“Goodbye, Miss Samantha.” He turned to face Kelly. “Goodbye, Miss. You take care both.”
Sam had been fiddling with her keyring and now it dropped to the ground. When she picked it up, Bobul and the mysterious Bertha were gone. Kelly had a curious smile on her face.
“I never quite get everything Bobul says. What did he mean by ‘take care both’?” Sam asked.
Even in the dim circle of light from the Victorian’s porch lamp, she could tell Kelly was blushing.
“I meant to save the news for after Beau wakes up. There’s just been too much happening in recent weeks.”
“Yes?” Definitely.
“Mom, I’m pregnant.”
Sam grabbed her daughter in a hug. “No wonder Bertha said things will be different. Wow.”
Kelly stood at arm’s length. “She also said the power of the two of us is stronger than either alone. Don’t you realize what that means?”
Sam was still trying to grasp the idea of becoming a grandmother.
“It means we both need to get to Beau’s side.” She spun toward her car, parked behind Sam’s truck. “Now. Manichee is locked in the trunk. We’re going to your house!”
Chapter 62
The night nurse was dozing on the cushy recliner chair in the corner of Beau’s room when Sam and Kelly arrived home. Ranger and Nellie had settled at her feet, as if they felt they needed to be near Beau, as well.
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