by K C West
My cell phone warbled and we both tensed. Ever since Kim’s disappearance, I felt a moment of panic whenever any phone rang.
“PJ Curtis,” I said, after clearing my throat.
“Hi, PJ. It’s Lawrence Peterson.”
I covered the mouthpiece and grimaced at Sue. “My guy Friday.”
“Yes, Lawrence. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine at this end, but I was checking your calendar for next week. Your trip to Chaco Canyon is on the schedule.”
“Already? I forgot all about it. With all that’s happened around here, maybe I can cancel or something.”
“I doubt you can do that,” he said. “Remember you have that check to present. They’ll be counting on you.”
I felt the headache returning and rubbed my temple.
Sue hissed behind me. “Let me have that.” Without waiting for my response, she took the phone and pushed me firmly, but gently back down on the bed. “Hello, Lawrence? This is Susanna Armstrong-Curtis. Yes, PJ’s stepmother, and I’m afraid your phone call is causing her undue stress right now.” She paused. “No, not right now. We’re in the middle of something. Yes, maybe tomorrow. Fine, I’ll tell her. Good-bye.” She terminated the call. “How do you stand that young man?”
I coughed into the bed sheet. “Oh, he’s usually pretty harmless. He does want to take me out to dinner the next time I’m in Boston, however. Can you imagine what Kim would…” I fell silent.
Sue resumed her massage. “At least I deterred him for tonight.”
“He has a point, though. That meeting at Chaco Canyon is one we were supposed to attend. There’s a check from the Curtis Foundation to present. Someone will have to go.”
“Maybe your dad could go in your place,” Sue suggested, pulling the top sheet and blanket up over my shoulders.
“Maybe. I recruited volunteers, though. The meeting was to set up work crews as well as make the donation. I guess I’ll have to go.”
She sat on the edge of my bed. Pup limped into the room, licked my hand, and flopped down inside his bed with a hefty groan. The cats stretched and decided to stay with me. I tried to empty my mind of all the myriad details of the day. Thoughts of Chaco Canyon and my trip there with Kim intruded for several seconds. I let myself recall wandering through large kivas and examining precisely craned stone walls that had towered above us. That reminded me of the dig site on Lesvos and the labyrinth, which led to memories of the first site I’d ever worked with Kim. So much had happened to us since the Superstition Mountains and the search for a lost tribe of Amazons.
“Want to talk about anything? Either stepmom to stepdaughter or friend to friend?”
I opened my eyes and refocused. “I was just thinking about the last few years. Do you think that everything happens for a reason? I mean, is everything you do connected in some way?”
“In a religious way? Like we’re predestined to do things or make decisions?”
“Not exactly. I was just wondering what my life would’ve been like if I’d never begged Dad to let me work with the illustrious Dr. Kimberly Blair. What if we’d never met?”
“Are you having regrets?”
“No, not at all. I’m thinking more about all the wonderful things I would’ve missed if I hadn’t met and fallen in love with her.”
“You two have had some pretty scary adventures, from what I hear. Your father told me once that he feels one of the best things about your relationship with Kim is that she keeps you grounded. I’d sure hate to have seen you before, if that’s the case. You must have been a firebrand… too hot to handle.”
I smiled. “I guess I didn’t have anyone in my life to give it purpose. These last three years have been the most incredible of my life.” I touched the ring on my left hand, giving it a gentle twist. “When you and Dad were on your honeymoon, Kim and I spent a glorious weekend at a villa she picked out as a surprise for me.”
“Very thoughtful of her.”
“We strolled along the beach and watched the moon rise over that part of the Aegean.”
“Sounds romantic.”
“It was.” I held up my left hand. “See this ring? Kim has one just like it.” My throat tightened. “We had our own marriage ceremony right there, standing barefoot in the sand. It was beautiful.”
“Oh, honey.” Sue leaned over, brushed the hair back from my face, and kissed my cheek. Her eyes were moist. “We’re going to find her, you’ll see.”
“God, I hope you’re right.” I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat. “The night before my last trip, we had a fight.”
“Oh, PJ - ”
“It was awful. We didn’t hug or kiss good-bye, or anything. I left before she woke up so I wouldn’t have to face her and was gone for four days. We talked by phone about incidentals, but we avoided the real problem. I never told her I was sorry.” I sniffed and rubbed my nose. Sue produced a tissue. “I have to get her back so I can apologize. She has to know how much I love her.”
“She knows.” Sue helped me put on my robe and gave my shoulders a hug. “No matter where she is, she knows.”
Chapter 15
I amazed myself with how much information my mind could process even when I wasn’t able to see what was happening. The driver’s side of the cab didn’t shift as much, so I knew someone lighter had climbed in. And the door hadn’t slammed as forcefully. Since Jake’s conversation was halted by the sound of a gun, I assumed that something had happened to him and now the younger man was in the driver’s seat. Jake had driven fast, but he’d kept the hard turns to a minimum. The new guy swerved often, but still hit potholes as if deliberately aiming for them, making my ride even more uncomfortable.
I sensed he was angry and impatient. He had, until the argument, remained in the background, but now he might be alone and in charge. If he’d shot Jake, he could easily have left him back there in some godforsaken corner of this desolate country. Nothing survived for long in this rough terrain without food, water, and protection from the sun.
I didn’t feel sorry for Jake or the other man, but I did worry how any change in their routine would affect me. I was hoping to convince the young man to let me go, but if he’d shot or killed Jake, he wasn’t likely to do that. The weapon was the problem now. I heard it go off. How could I reason with anyone willing to shoot someone? How could I face down a bullet? I feared this new concept, and I listened hard for the sound of Jake up there with the young man. Even another moan or two would be welcome. Scary as Jake was, at least he hadn’t been crazy, and as best I could tell, this younger thug just might be.
PJ, I don’t know what’s going to happen now. Things have definitely changed and not for the better. I won’t give up, though. I have to keep thinking, trying for a way to escape, if I can.
The vehicle broke every speed limit. I kept hoping I’d hear a State Trooper’s siren behind us. Where were they when you needed them?
After a hard left turn, we went off the road, fishtailed around a curve, and scattered loose gravel. I rolled up against the sides of the truck bed. Pieces of wood, bags, and boxes thumped against my already bruised body. When the driver slowed his breakneck dash, the ride remained bumpy, but wasn’t quite as jolting.
I must have blacked out for a bit, but I came to when the truck rolled to a stop. The driver got out and I heard voices, but only the words “doctor” and “archaeologist” made sense. It didn’t sound like Jake and the young man. Before I could hear any more, the voices faded.
By rolling myself into a sitting position, I was able to see the top of what appeared to be a mesa. I struggled to reach the level of the dirt-encrusted window, but only managed to get to my knees by the time the driver returned. When the truck started moving, I was thrown to the floor. I was hungry, thirsty, and in pain. I needed to go to the bathroom again. The fact that we were moving slowly was a relief.
We had been stopped for some time before the truck’s back hatch opened and the young man appeared. He w
as clad in jeans and a rumpled black sweatshirt. A red baseball cap with a farming logo was perched on his head and a blue bandana stretched across the lower half of his face. Dark glasses obscured his eyes, and a pair of woolen gloves covered his hands. It was hardly a good choice for the heat of the day, but it was enough that I’d never recognize him. In addition to the disguise, he carried a faded blue backpack. Hoisting himself up to the truck’s bed, he braced on one knee and grabbed me by my shoulders, dragging me out like a sack of grain. When I fell to the ground, he kicked me once in the ribs and kept his foot against my side so he could unleash the bindings around my ankles. With the business end of a gun no more than eighteen inches from my head, he yanked me upright.
“Who the hell are you? What do you want from me?” He ignored my questions and pulled, pushed, and dragged me along a path that wound between the ruins of an ancient civilization. My feet, having been tied for so long, refused to work. Supporting me seemed to be something of an effort for the slightly built young man. He compensated for his lack of strength by keeping the gun pointed at my head.
“What have I done to deserve this?” I sagged to my knees, but he forced me to keep moving.
The few hundred yards we crossed felt like a mile in my weakened condition. We stopped beside an aluminum ladder that protruded from a hole in the ground.
“Down,” my captor said in a growling tone. He prodded me with the gun.
My feet slipped off the rungs and I slithered more than climbed down the ladder.
At the bottom, after my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, I realized I was in an ancient, partially crumbling kiva. One side of it appeared to be quite stable, though. Someone, probably my captor, had bolted chains into the solid wall. Assorted objects littered the floor of the kiva. One particularly insidious piece of equipment resembled a dog collar with spikes pointing inward.
My insides went cold as I imagined how it might be used, and the chill I felt made my bladder protest. “I have to pee.”
He ignored me, pushed me back against the wall so I was facing outward into the kiva, and locked me into the chains, twisting my injured arm and shoulder. I cried out in pain. My arms ached in such an awkward and unusual position.
And I’d thought I could reason with this person.
He closed the dog collar around my neck. As long as I faced forward and kept my head level I was okay. If I looked up, down, or sideways too much, the metal lining bit into my flesh.
“Please. I have to pee,” I repeated, hating myself for whimpering.
The young man reached into the corner for a bucket, stuck it between my legs, unzipped my pants, and pulled them down.
“What are you doing?” My movement caused the spikes to jab my neck. He spread my legs, poked the bucket between them, and I had no choice. I had to go. When I finished, he hoisted my pants up and emptied the bucket over my feet.
He swung the pack off his shoulders and rummaged through it, producing a paper sack containing half a loaf of bread, some wrapped cheese slices, and a bottle of water. He loosened my hands long enough for me to eat and drink, but kept the gun trained on me the whole time. With every swallow, the collar bit into my neck, and the odor of my own urine wafted around me. When I had eaten as much as I could without gagging, he refastened the wristlocks and left, pulling the ladder up and out of the kiva.
“Wait! Don’t leave me like this.”
Even if I hadn’t been chained, I couldn’t climb out without the ladder.
Moving just my eyes to prevent more bites from the spikes in the collar, I looked around. I saw boxes piled in one corner and a folding chair in the shadows.
Someone had planned ahead for a captive. They’d prepared this chamber. Was all this work for me? Or someone else?
I was fed. Whoever had set this all up intended to keep a victim for a little while at least. Would they still want a ransom for me, or had they intended to snatch PJ?
Despite the frantic leaping of my mind, I must have passed out, but a sharp jab to my neck brought me around. I felt a trickle of blood slide along my collar bone. How can I ever sleep in this contraption?
“Oh, PJ,” I whispered, “I miss you so much.”
I forced myself to think about the trip here, what I could remember of it. When the truck stopped, I hadn’t had much time to look around, but I did recognize Fajada Butte. I was somewhere in Chaco Canyon. Why here in this kiva? Was there something significant about this spot? My head ached from trying to come up with an answer, and my heart rate had increased alarmingly, so I swallowed my rising panic and thought about something else.
I envisioned myself lying on the sofa with PJ in my arms, watching the cats and Pup play together. It was such a simple pleasure, and right now I’d give anything to be home doing just that. The thought of Pup brought a lump to my throat. He’d been with me so long and was so faithful a friend. And now he was dead. I swallowed and the collar punished me again. Tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I cried for the loss of my brave and loyal companion. He’d tried to protect me and one of these bastards had killed him. Would that be my fate, too?
Earlier, a shaft of daylight had reflected into the kiva from the hole in the ceiling, but the light was fading as night approached. I was exhausted, but I dared not sleep.
Chapter 16
Kim nuzzled the back of my neck while I lingered in that drowsy state between wakefulness and actual sleep. I knew from the amount of light penetrating my closed eyelids that it was time for us to wake up and start our day. I stretched, and she continued her intimate assault on my neck and ear. I could feel her breath tickling my sensitive skin. Her humming sounded so much like the purring of a contented cat. I turned my head. Cleo and I were eyeball-to-eyeball. Our noses butted and she climbed up my chest, making sure I was going to stay awake and play.
I grabbed her with both hands, ignoring her indignant protests. “Come here, you little furry ball. Where’s your partner in mayhem this morning?” Before she could utter another plaintive wail, Jackie sprang on top of us, emitting a kitty war cry.
“Don’t tell me. Let me guess. You want breakfast and you want it now.” They purred. While Jackie gave Cleo several raspy licks behind her ears and her sister returned the favor, I escaped to the bathroom. “Give me five minutes to get dressed and then we’ll see about feeding you.”
I was amazed I had slept so well. Whatever herb Little Bird had put in my tea last night had knocked me out cold. I was as ready as I could be to face the day and get caught up on what had transpired during the night.
The cats and I slipped into the kitchen. Several volunteer searchers were busy eating, talking, and organizing maps and grids. A pair of police officers filed papers into various folders. I filled the cats’ bowls and realized that Pup was not inside with us. He usually came at the sound of the can opener or the rustle of the dry cat food bag. Fond as he was of his own dog chow, he was especially eager to nibble any of the leftover feline cuisine. There was never much in their bowls when they finished, but he liked to lick the sides clean anyway.
*
Detective Nelson sat at one end of the table. Gina sat to his left. They were talking and flipping through a bundle of newspapers, pointing at pictures. I could read the tabloid headlines from across the room and imagined the reporters were having a field day at my partner’s expense. After fixing myself a mug of Earl Grey, I joined them at the table.
“Hi, PJ.” Gina folded her paper so I couldn’t see any pictures.
“What’s up?” I took a sip and braced myself.
Detective Nelson shook his head. “Seems you and your girlfriend have been busy this past year. He held up his paper so I could see the not-too-flattering picture of us at Logan Airport last summer, just after Kim’s altercation with the photographer.
Gina pulled his paper away and piled it on top of hers. “Mark, you know as well as I do that this trash is not worth the paper it’s printed on.”
“Actually, that’s pre
tty tame stuff,” I said. “When I was in that cottage in Wales, some of those rags claimed I’d been tossed down a sacred well and was reincarnated as a druid priestess. I forget what the idiots imagined for Kim.”
“All I’m saying is the job is hard enough without all this crap.” He pushed back from the table and left by way of the back door.
I poured more coffee for Gina and asked for a progress report, pointedly ignoring her partner’s comments.
“He’s going to Taos this morning. There’s been another sighting.”
“How many does that make?”
“Counting the totally ludicrous ones,” she said, consulting her notes, “one hundred and twenty-two.”
We sat silently for a couple of minutes, each staring into our mugs as if we’d find answers floating in the dark liquid. I couldn’t speak for Gina, but my thoughts had taken a pessimistic turn. I finished most of my tea, propped my elbows on the table, and rested my chin wearily on clenched fists. The most overwhelming sensation of hopelessness spread through my body. For days I had tried to keep my head or my heart focused on the hunt for Kim. I believed that by keeping one or the other devoted to the cause, I’d manage to align both and, ultimately, Kim would return alive and well. A week had passed and I was losing my grip. All my tenacity, spirit, and optimism slipped away. All my grit and determination evaporated. I was emotionally tapped out and desperate.
“PJ,” Gina said, reaching for my hand. “Don’t let it get to you. You can’t give up yet.”
I avoided her grasp and stood up, still holding the mug. “What’s the use? Can you tell me? What’s the use?” I heaved the mug against the back wall where it smashed, leaving a dent and a small brown stain. The cats scrambled for cover.
“I’m sick of not knowing! Just so goddamned sick of it!” My fists clenched and unclenched as Gina approached me.
The police officers turned to assist her, but Gina motioned them back to their jobs.
