“That made it easy for him. He knows a lot about Native American history. He could easily fake a story for this area, especially with props, say he was from a museum, say anything to convince her he could help win the fight against the quarry. And, of course, he knows about head rights. He’s part Cherokee and very proud of that.
“JoAnne was so eager to find anything to stop the quarry that she wasn’t cautious at all, just drove right into that barn, out of sight of everyone but him. I guess we’ll never know all of it, not that it matters now, because the end is the same.” Her voice broke. “He always was a good salesman. He can be very charming.”
Henry had his eyes shut again, and Susan was silent, not looking at her.
Tears filled Carrie’s eyes. “Susan put the puzzle pieces together. She told me they think he’s been cheating clients all these years and has probably cheated me. I didn’t figure out fast enough how seriously he would take a threat to his safety, or the danger to his scheme from anyone who suspected the truth. He thought Susan would tell JoAnne he cheated me, or perhaps had already told her. That’s probably why he’s been so attentive to me recently, checking to see if I was reacting to any such knowledge.
“If JoAnne was dead, then the link between Susan and me was destroyed. And she’d come here, to an isolated area he knows very well. He’s removing threats, you see.
“But he had no idea what Susan looks like. That’s why he stole the picture Sunday. He must have gone to JoAnne’s house first on Saturday morning, after... after he killed her. He was searching to see what she might have learned about him from Susan. You interrupted him when you got there, and all he had time to take was the book with Susan’s address in it. When you knocked on the front door, he must have left by the back door, leaving it unlocked.
“Then he came back Sunday and made a more thorough search. He found nothing that would incriminate him, but he took Susan’s picture and the birthday card. Maybe he thought the envelope with my name on it held information about him.
“You were right all along,” she said, looking at Henry. “It has everything to do with me, so I must talk to him.”
Henry’s eyes were open now. “No,” he said, “you will not. Eventually someone will miss us, or he’ll give up, or... I have the gun, and there are a dozen bullets. It only takes one.”
“But that’s what I can’t deal with,” she said, “and you shouldn’t have to. It’s my battle.”
“It’s ours. He killed JoAnne. He attacked you brutally.”
“And he’s shot you,” she said, looking at the blood- soaked tissues he was still holding to his forehead. “Henry, I can’t live with knowing I put you in a situation where you had to kill again. I’ve seen too much killing already, so I can imagine what you’ve had to face all those years in the police department. And what about the danger to you? How will you reach him?”
As if for emphasis, two more shots hit inside the cave opening, and they all flinched.
“He’s on a higher level now,” Henry said. “Perhaps up on that overhang. We’d better move away from the entrance.”
He shifted slowly, then looked straight at her. “You mean it’s Evan Walters out there? If I understand you then, Susan is in as much danger as you are.”
“More danger. And now you can see why it’s my fault.”
She turned back to Susan. “Evan always has been sensitive to what other people thought of him. As soon as he knew you suspected he was cheating clients, then you can imagine what that did to him, especially since what you might uncover could destroy his reputation and livelihood. Oh, Susan, I am so very sorry. I could have prevented all this.”
Susan’s eyes were wet, but she spoke calmly. “You didn’t know about his dishonesty until I mentioned it, and by then, Aunt JoAnne had been dead for several days.”
Henry said, emphasizing each word carefully. “Evan Walters is the only, the only one causing this. No one else is to blame.”
Carrie was still looking at Susan. “He wants to keep you from exposing him, of course. As soon as he understood that we were both connected to JoAnne, then you became dangerous to him as Mabel what’s-her-name in the same job never was. My fault... I told him about you.
“He isn’t honest himself, so he couldn’t believe you wouldn’t rush to tell JoAnne about your suspicions, whether you had any proof yet or not. I’m sure he assumed when you did tell her that she’d tell me.
“Well, he’s right about that,” Carrie continued heatedly. “JoAnne would have told me and would have taken me by the ear and rushed me to Tulsa to confront him face-to-face.”
She was tempted to cry now and snuggle against Henry’s broad chest, but she didn’t. She stuck her chin in the air and said, “I’ve got to do something! We can’t just sit here waiting to be killed. I’ve got to talk with him.”
Henry said, “It won’t work. If he’s unstable, you have no idea what he might do to you.”
“Shirley says he’s in love with me, so he wouldn’t hurt me. And what if you did manage to kill him? Can either of us risk what that might do to the rest of our lives?” Tears were running freely down her face now, but she raised her chin firmly, meeting his troubled eyes.
Susan cleared her throat. “Maybe there’s another way. What if we find one of those other openings to the cave, a sink hole maybe? Then at least one of us can get to the car and go for help.”
They sat thinking. Finally Carrie said. “Then I’m the one to go.”
Another bullet hit just inside the cave opening, and Henry picked up his gun.
Carrie grabbed at his arm, but he pushed her hand away and said, “I’m not going to shoot at him. I couldn’t get close without getting my own head blown off. That’s a high-powered rifle, and he’s higher than we are and can see the entrance to this cave quite clearly. But I do think he should know we’re armed. That might make him hesitant about coming closer. It might keep him on that overhang. Put your hands over your ears.” He pointed his gun at the cave opening and shot out over the valley.
The sound of the shot was just dying away when Carrie heard Evan’s voice calling her name.
She started to answer, but Henry shook his head and asked in a low voice, “Is that Walters? You’re quite sure now?”
She nodded.
Henry called out, “She was hit by a ricocheting bullet. She’s unconscious. Who are you? Why are you shooting at us? We need to get help for her.”
Evan was silent for a long moment, then said, “I saw you two together yesterday, Mister Boyfriend. If you want to help her, then you and the young lady should come out with your hands empty and in plain sight. I can take Carrie out in my truck if she needs help. She needs me, not you. I’ll take care of her.”
Another silence, then Evan said, “Put her out on the ledge. I want to see her.”
“We’re afraid to move her,” Henry said.
Carrie tugged at his sleeve and whispered, “Susan and I are going to see if we can find another opening. You stay here and keep his attention. That way he won’t be able to leave the overhang.”
His arm reached for her, and he pulled her to his side. “Cara, I don’t want you to risk it.”
“If I don’t, what then? He’ll shoot either you or Susan on sight, and you’re the only one who knows how to handle that gun. I don’t think he’ll hurt me even if he sees me, and he isn’t going to see me. It sounds like he was the one up on the plateau yesterday, though, if he’s seen us together enough to call you my... boyfriend. He wouldn’t have thought that simply by getting a glimpse of you in my house. That’s why he wasn’t in his office. He was here, breaking into my house and spying on us. I’d already told him Susan and I planned to look through the caves. If he heard us talking on the creek bank yesterday, then he found out when we were coming here, and that you’d be with us.”
Evan’s voice came again. “I’ve got explosives.” He laughed. “I’ll shut you in the cave, just like Aïda and Radames. Isn’t that romantic?”
This time Henry didn’t try to stop her. He handed her the car keys and awkwardly tightened his arm around her for a moment. After giving him what she hoped was a strong, confident smile, she got to her feet.
“God go with you,” he said in a gruff voice as she followed Susan into the tunnel. She didn’t look back. She didn’t want him to see her face.
Chapter XXII
The first two tunnels off the cave’s main room were dead ends. Carrie crawled along each of them as fast as she could, not caring that she was tearing holes in her coat and slopping muck all over herself. One of the tunnels continued beyond where she could crawl, but there was no hope—she couldn’t get through.
She was sweating from exertion when she backed out and re-joined Susan in the central room for the second time. “There’s no opening there either,” she said. “I’m going to have to try that tunnel with the water sounds coming from it. Pray it works.”
The tunnels were all above the level of the floor where they stood, and there were few toeholds, but Susan helped push and boost Carrie for a third time, and she started off toward the sound of rushing water.
“Don’t take time to come back if you find an opening where you can get out,” Susan said. “Just bang a rock against the cave wall three times. That way your voice won’t carry to the outside if you’re close to an entrance. I’ll signal back when I hear you. I’ll pull myself up and wait here in the opening so I can be ready to come if you need my help. Be careful. That water scares me.”
Everything about this scares me, Carrie thought as she crawled into the darkness, holding the flashlight in one hand and balancing awkwardly on two knees and the other hand. But there was no hope for it. She just had to find a way out, and only this way was left.
She could tell she was heading downhill, farther into the earth, which meant, she thought, that an opening to daylight would be very unlikely. Water sounds were getting louder, echoing along the passage where she was crawling. It was wet everywhere, and the rocks above her dripped constantly. She was glad her jacket was waterproof, at least where it wasn’t torn. In places the tunnel was so narrow she thought her clothing would be pulled off before she could push her way through the rough passage. She was driven forward, however, by a frantic desperation and the feeling that she was now responsible for seeing that Evan didn’t kill Henry and Susan.
Finally, the cave began to open up again and, creeping forward, she came to the edge of nothingness.
She could hear water roaring far below, and she turned her flashlight down into the abyss. The light disappeared in a misty blackness that had no bottom at all.
She didn’t feel cold, but she was shaking as she pointed the flashlight around the area, trying to see what to do next. The ledge supporting her weight was narrow, but it continued along one side of the chasm to what looked almost like steps on the other side.
There was no way she could force her body to crawl out along that ledge.
But she had to. She had to keep trying. Her own stupid determination to prove she could figure out what others (especially Henry) couldn’t had put the three of them in this terrible danger. She had to keep trying now, even if it all ended right here.
Please, God...
She swallowed her terror and got down on hands and knees again, feeling her way carefully along the stone shelf, creeping forward around the horrible void and its invisible rushing water.
A dull boom echoed through the cave, and she froze as a piece of ledge under her broke off and disappeared into the roar below.
Her right leg swung free in black air and she moaned, gasping for breath. Fast-forward prayers filled her thoughts, meeting fear so overwhelming that it pressed against her body, pushing her toward the pit.
Fighting against the downward pull, Carrie battled to get her leg up and her weight away from the break—teetering on the edge, gasping, moaning, while impossible ages passed. The heavy hiking boot she was wearing turned her foot into a deadly threat. That, plus the force exerted by the drop of her leg, was going to be too much to fight against.
NO!
She couldn’t give up.
The sound of rushing water seemed to be getting louder and louder as she prayed:
“Give angels... charge over me... help me... ”
Henry and Susan... she... had... to... make... it.
Carrie panted short bursts of air and struggled to roll on her back—away from the break—hoping the turning of her body would help lift her leg. More chips from the ledge fell away as she rocked there for an eternity, organizing strength, and willing her body to roll backward.
At last, breathless and weak, she fell against the wall on the inside edge of the shelf, not daring to wonder if it would hold her weight. Lying there, exhausted, she heard words: “I... have sent my angels... ”
In all the years to follow, she’d never know if she’d actually heard a voice or if the words were simply in her thoughts, but it didn’t matter.
The next thing she was aware of was Susan’s terrified shout, “Carrie! Carrie!”
“I’m all right,” she called back as soon as she could speak.
She began inching forward again, lying on her stomach and pulling herself along the wall toward the stone steps. Thank goodness she hadn’t dropped the flashlight.
When she reached the end of the ledge and could sit on the bottom step, she stopped, leaned against the stone wall, and waited for the pounding in her ears to quit. She tried to breath deeply and evenly as she used the flashlight to investigate what did seem to be rough steps. They looked like they had been chipped with some sort of tool, and black stains on the ceiling over her head could be, she imagined, soot from torches. Perhaps it was fantasy, but it looked like humans had worked here, chipping steps to water that must have once flowed at this level and had, eons ago, worn the ledge that was now behind her.
She had to stoop as she climbed the steps, but they went up steadily until she stood in another room, dry and almost warm. She turned her flashlight toward the walls and gasped. The charcoal drawings!
They were everywhere, graceful, curving black lines. She saw what looked like a cow... no, a buffalo or something similar, and a funny bird. That must be a drawing of a fire, probably a campfire, and those could be people. For a moment, she forgot even Henry and Susan as she took in the pictograph-covered walls.
When she finally turned her flashlight toward the floor, she saw footprints in the powdery dust. It was easy to recognize the tread print of JoAnne’s hiking boots—she knew it well. And, there was another shoe, narrow, with a smoother sole. The print was no larger than JoAnne’s.
Evan. He had small feet for a man. This could be where JoAnne was last Thursday, and she’d been here with Evan. Then JoAnne had already met him when she went to the barn on Saturday. He must have called Friday to say he’d found something more... something to do with head rights that would also help halt quarry construction.
Evan had been leading JoAnne in a deadly game. He had undoubtedly been in Walden Valley more than once last week, toying with JoAnne, perhaps even trying to find out if she knew anything about stock brokers who cheated people. But why had JoAnne listened to a stranger, and a man at that?
I know him, she reminded herself. He can be charming.
Oh, JoAnne—she almost cried it aloud—when you did choose to trust a man, why did you have to pick the wrong one! Caring so much about saving this valley meant you weren’t careful enough for yourself.
But then, Carrie realized, I trusted him too.
It was a very unsettling thought.
Shining her flashlight across the room, Carrie saw a narrow slit in the wall on the other side and went toward it, following the footprints. It
looked like the slit continued for at least ten yards. Was the blackness less intense at the end of it? She shut off her flashlight. Yes, there was a slight softness in the black ahead of her.
Of course, there would have to be another entrance. JoAnne, much taller than Carrie and at least twenty pounds heavier, couldn’t have made it through those tunnels and across that awful ledge, and she doubted Evan would try it either. If they had used this opening, then she could too.
She hurried back down the steps, found a rock, and banged it against the wall of the cave. Almost as soon as the echoing sound had died, she heard three responding bangs from the passage on the other side of the abyss.
Good, now Susan would go back to Henry. The rest was in Carrie’s hands. They’d get out of this yet!
She slid into the narrow passage, following it to another fissure that turned off at an angle. The end of that was blocked by what looked like a rock slide, but light was definitely filtering through at the top. When she got close enough, she saw that weeds and clay were clinging to some of the smaller rocks on the pile. They had evidently been pushed there recently to block the entrance.
Thankful that her gloves were still mostly intact, Carrie shoved and clawed at the rocks. At first it seemed she wasn’t going to be strong enough to move them, but finally the top few began to slide away from the opening. Scrambling up, she burst out over the rocks into clean air and open sky, almost like a rabbit with a weasel behind it.
Except the weasel was in front of her.
He was sitting on a large rock by the opening. “You’re looking a bit disheveled, Carrie,” Evan Walters said.
He couldn’t have missed the sharp intake of breath or her look of horror, but she steeled herself quickly and said, “My goodness, Evan, how you startled me. Golly, yes, I must be a mess. Crawling through caves is not a tidy occupation, fun though it may be.”
She’d surprised him, taken him off guard. He cocked his head on one side and looked at her thoughtfully.
A Valley to Die For Page 22
