by Ann Charles
“It’s all part of the maintenance that goes into mine ownership. It’s Ruby’s responsibility to know what she has up here and to keep others out. The last thing we want is to have someone come in here and do something stupid like fall down in a shaft, break their neck, and drown down there in the dark.”
The rope was now wet in his hands.
“That’s horror show material.” Claire’s flashlight beam bounced around behind her, further down the main adit.
“Exactly. It’s my job to make sure the mines are securely blocked off from unauthorized visitors, like teenagers, spelunkers, vagrants, and whatever other animal wants to come in here and get into trouble.” Parts of the rope were slippery, like it had been down there long enough to get a little slimy. “Remember that pregnant javelina you stumbled across last April?”
“I remember her fangs.”
He did, too. And her rancid smell. That was the closest he had ever been to a wild javelina before. “I come across a lot of animals back in these mines.”
“Alive or dead?”
“Both.” Rats especially. And porcupines.
“You’re creeping me out,” she whispered. Her flashlight beam whipped around toward the front of the mine. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
Claire took a couple of steps back the way they had come, leading with her light. “I thought I heard something scraping across rocks down that way.”
“Like I said, lots of animals.”
She stood there listening for a few more seconds, and then returned to the shaft, moving a little closer to him than before. “I don’t think you should be coming out alone on these maintenance runs anymore. It’s too dangerous.”
“I take precautions.” The tension in the rope increased. He was almost to the end of the line.
“Not enough.”
His grip on the rope slipped, letting it slide back down several inches before he stopped it. The payload felt as heavy as a watermelon now, as off balance, too.
“It’s a necessary job so long as Ruby owns the rights.” he said, wiping his hands on his pants one at a time. “She has liability insurance to protect her financially if somebody gets hurt and tries to sue her, but these mines have seen enough death.” He thought of the skeleton of the trapped miner he had found further back, near where Dr. García’s crew was working.
“I agree,” Claire said.
“Me, too,” a deep female voice spoke from the shadows beyond Claire.
Claire let out an “ack” of surprise that made Mac jump and loosen his hold on the rope. It slid through his fingers again too fast this time to stop. He let go to avoid a rope burn or getting tugged into the shaft and watched the loops of rope unravel as whatever was at the other end tumbled back down. Seconds passed, and then a splash echoed up through the darkness from below.
“Damn it,” their visitor said. A bright halogen floodlight flashed to life, blinding Mac in brightness. “Way to go, Romeo.”
Mac heard the unmistakable clicks of a hammer being cocked.
“I hate to do this, but if you both don’t do exactly as I say now, I’ll have to add you to the body count.”
* * *
Jessica was sitting in the passenger seat of the old Ford when Ronnie climbed inside after leaving the library.
Ronnie did a double take. “Where did you come from?” She distinctly remembered driving alone to Yuccaville this morning while being followed by a red pickup.
“School.” Jessica sniffed and stared out the passenger side window.
“Why aren’t you there now?”
“I called in sick.”
Ronnie peered closer. The girl looked fine and dandy to her. Although in her opinion, Jessica had gone a little over the top with her fruity scented perfume this morning. Ronnie could taste it on the back of her tongue, and it was way more bitter than any berries or cherries she had ever eaten. “You can’t call yourself in sick. You’re a kid.”
“I’m almost an adult.”
“Yeah, but you’re not.” Ronnie stuck the keys in the ignition. “How did you know I was here?”
“You drove right past me outside of my school.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. It was like you were lost or something.”
It would be impossible to get lost in Yuccaville. That must have been when she was leading the red pickup around town.
“I ran after you, hollering for you to stop, but you must not have heard me.”
“Sorry. I was a little preoccupied.” Ronnie fired up the old Ford. “Where am I taking you?”
Jessica swiped at her eyes. “You mean you’re not going to make me go back to school?”
“Do I look like a truant officer to you?” Did they even have such a position anymore? If so, what were the qualifications? Would a Liberal Arts degree with absolutely no experience in hunting down kids cut it?
“I want to go back to the Skunkmobile,” Jessica whispered, dabbing at her eyes with her shirt hem.
“Really?” Ronnie could not think of a single reason to want to hang out in that stinky R.V. any more than necessary.
Jessica nodded, sniffing. “Please don’t tell Mom.”
“I’ll leave that to you when you’re ready.” She shifted into gear.
Jessica stared out her window, silent except for the occasional popping of her bubble gum.
They made it past the outskirts of Yuccaville before Jessica’s bubble of silence burst. “My dad is a liar.”
He was also a letch and a cradle robber, but Ronnie would leave the name calling to his daughter.
“He didn’t have a migraine Sunday night,” Jessica explained.
Ronnie had figured that. After all, she had spied on him while he was bonking his “migraine” yesterday.
“He was with some girl.”
Yep. Mindy Lou Harrison was her name, and looking for love in all the wrong places was her game.
Jessica planted her pink canvas shoes on the dash. “I skipped out of class during my second period study hall to go see if he was feeling better.”
Ruby was not going to be happy about that.
“I walked to his hotel and looked in his window.”
Wincing, Ronnie glanced sideways. Jessica was twirling her shoelaces around her finger, her eyes watery.
“He wasn’t sleeping alone in his bed.”
No shit.
“He was with some woman with long black hair.”
What? Ronnie frowned across the seat. Mindy Lou was a platinum blonde. “You’re sure it was black?”
Jess nodded. “I think she’s the girl who works at the mini-mart where we got gas last week.”
Holy crap. Steve Horner wasted no time planting his seed all around town. Ronnie wondered if Mindy Lou knew she was not his only sex buddy.
“I was on my way back to school when I saw you drive by,” Jessica said and then sighed.
Ronnie did not know what to say to cheer her up. She settled for: “That sucks, Jessica.”
Several fence posts passed outside the window while Charlie Rich sang on the radio about things that go on behind closed doors. Ronnie hummed along, thinking about what had just transpired behind the women’s restroom door.
What was Grady going to do with the watch? Would he be able to find out anything about the cowboy in the red pickup?
After Ronnie had told him about the warning she had received on the dance floor, his eyes had narrowed, but that was it for reactions. His game face gave no clues. He should play Euchre with Gramps. They would make a killer team. Chester and Manny would not have a chance in hell.
His parting words had made no promises. “I’ll see you around, Veronica.”
Did that mean he believed her?
Or that he believed her to be nuts?
Aunt Millie had been disappointed they had not taken longer for their meeting, but Ronnie assured her all had gone as planned.
“Yeah, but your blouse is still buttoned,” Aunt Mill
ie said.
That was when Ronnie realized Aunt Millie had been thinking a different kind of rendezvous was supposed to take place in the women’s restroom.
“The Sheriff is not interested in that,” Ronnie told her, slipping on her sweater.
“Grady is still a young man. He’s always interested in getting a little bit of that,” Aunt Millie replied, pointing at Ronnie’s chest.
With no wish to discuss that topic any further with Grady’s aunt, Ronnie had thanked Aunt Millie and exited the building.
But damn it all if she did not hold a flame of hope that Aunt Millie was right.
Logically she told herself that getting involved in any capacity with the Sheriff of Cholla County was stupid. Really stupid. Like the biggest-mistake-of-her-life stupid. Yet she really wanted to see what was under that badge. If Grady was as much of a hardass as he pretended to be. If he treated women like they were trophy objects or like they were made of flesh and blood. If his passion in bed was as intense as it was for the law. If he liked to …
“Ronnie?” Jessica’s voice derailed her train of thoughts.
“What?”
Was the heat on? Ronnie checked the heater settings. Nope. Whew! She fanned her blouse.
“Are you going to stick around here for a while?”
Ronnie hit her blinker, slowing at Jackrabbit Junction to make the turn toward Ruby’s R.V. park. “I don’t know.” A lot depended on Grady’s next move. “Why?”
“I was just thinking of something Claire said.”
“What’s that?” Turning the corner, she glanced over at The Shaft and saw Katie’s car in the lot. Maybe she should drop off Jess and swing back by the bar and see if her sister needed some help with opening. Ronnie had heard Katie stumble outside early that morning and throw up behind the camper. The poor girl was not taking to pregnancy well.
“She said that when you weren’t bossing everyone around, you were a lot of fun.”
“Claire said that?”
“Yeah. And between you and me, this place definitely needs more fun. So will you stay?”
Ronnie chewed on her lower lip. Since she’d arrived, she had thought only of getting more cash so she could escape this place and hide somewhere else. But maybe this was as good a place to hide as any with its wide open valleys and small town neighborhoods where strangers stood out like sharks in a school of tuna.
“That depends on you,” she told Jessica. Well, her and Ruby and Gramps actually. And the Sheriff.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to stay living with your mom? Because if you’re thinking of moving in with your dad, I’m not sticking around.”
Steve Horner saw only one thing when it came to his daughter—dollar signs. Jessica might be blinded by his shiny promises, but Ronnie had a crystal clear view of the situation. While Steve had gotten away with using Mindy Lou for his own benefit, Ronnie would be damned if she was going to let him use Jessica, too.
Jessica returned to twirling her shoestrings again as Ronnie drove over the bridge into the R.V. park and rolled down the drive toward the Skunkmobile.
She pulled up in front of the old R.V. and cut the engine, turning to Jessica. “Well, what’s it gonna be, kid? Am I staying or going?”
* * *
If Claire had a buck for every time someone had pointed a freaking gun at her these days.
“Move over there by your boyfriend,” the voice behind the bright flashlight said. It sounded female but scratchy. Vaguely familiar.
Whoever it was kept the handgun level with the flashlight and aimed squarely on Claire as she slipped around the mine shaft and stood next to where Mac still kneeled.
Claire searched her memory for where she’d heard the voice before. It was fairly recent. Was it at The Shaft? She’d come across a lot of people there lately while tending bar.
Mac started to rise to his feet.
“No.” The gun dropped to Mac. “You stay right where you are and pull up that rope again.”
Mac nodded, moving slowly, taking up the rope. He angled his elbow so that he bumped Claire’s leg and nudged her behind him without making his action obvious.
Shielding her eyes, Claire tried to see who it was that had them in her sights. “Who are you?”
“None of your business.”
“Well, it sort of is since you’re trespassing.”
“I’m also the one holding the gun.”
Mac glared up at Claire, still pulling. “Stop poking the bear.”
Claire quieted, waiting for Mac to get to the end of the rope. When he did and it came up with nothing attached, she grimaced. That probably was not going to go over well.
“Son of a bitch,” said the voice. “Now we have a bigger problem.”
“Bigger than you holding a gun on us while you hide behind that light?” Claire asked, still trying to figure out where she had heard that voice. Was it during Ladies Night last week?
Mac grunted and elbowed her kneecap.
“You got a smart mouth, girl.”
“I can’t help it,” Claire said. “It came with my brain.”
“Great. Then you can take the two of them and climb down that ladder and bring up what you two nincompoops dropped.”
Claire looked down into the dark hole and gulped. “Down that ladder in there?”
“Do you see any other ladders around here?”
“I’ll climb down,” Mac offered. “I’m the one who dropped the rope.”
“That’s very Prince Charming of you, but that ladder won’t hold your weight. She goes or she gets shot.”
Claire hesitated.
“How about I go back out to my truck and get my climbing gear.” Mac said. “Then I can rappel down.”
The woman laughed. “I don’t think so. That ladder will hold her, trust me. I’ve been down it.”
When Claire still didn’t move, the gun raised, pointing at her head. “What’s the hold up?”
“I’m trying to decide if I’d rather be shot.”
Mac reached down and grabbed the top of the ladder, trying to wiggle it. It creaked a little, but held steady. “Get on the ladder, Claire.”
“Can I take my flashlight?” she asked the woman.
“Of course. How else are you going to see to swim down and fish the stuff out of the water?”
“Wait a second.” Claire crossed her arms. “You didn’t mention the swimming part before.”
“Claire.” Mac squeezed her calf. “Get in the hole, sweetheart.”
That was easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one about to climb down into a pitch black throat in the earth with freezing cold water waiting in the bottom.
“You’ll be fine,” he added.
She disagreed. The last time she had tried to climb out of a shaft on a rusted ladder, it had given way and dumped her back into the water. Now she was supposed to climb down however far and splash around in the dark water at the bottom. She had seen way too many horror movies about creepy things in the bottom of wells to handle this with grace and dignity.
“I’d like to hear what’s behind door number three,” Claire said to the gun.
“There is no third door.”
“Things always come in threes. It’s the Rule of Three, even for doors.”
“No, they don’t. There are only two showcases on The Price is Right. Not three.”
“Yeah, but there are always three contestants on Jeopardy and The Wheel of Fortune.”
“Fine! Behind door number three is your boyfriend here with a bullet in his head. Now which door are you going to choose?”
“Damn it, Claire.” Mac’s voice was tight with tension.
She yanked off her hard hat and threw it onto the floor. “This is bullshit!” She stuffed her flashlight in the back of her pants, glaring at the gun-toting bitch. “Next time, pick a better hiding spot when you stow your contraband.”
“Just get your ass down in that hole.” The gun pointed toward the hole.
“Here goes nothing,” she said and put both shoes on the ladder, her head level with Mac’s.
“You can do this, Slugger.” His gaze bore into hers. “Get on down there and hold on tight.”
She took two steps down, wondering why he was so can-do all of a sudden. Then she realized what he was doing—getting her out of the way.
“No.” She frowned up at him. “Mac, don’t—”
He leaned down and cupped her cheeks, kissing her silent.
“That’s enough kissy face,” the voice said. “Get your hiney moving.”
Mac let her go, dropping a final kiss on her forehead. “You heard her, Claire. Go.”
“I don’t like this,” she told him.
“You made your choice,” the woman said, thinking Claire was talking to her. “The sooner you get down there, the sooner you and your boyfriend will be on your merry way.”
Claire didn’t believe her. Her multiple experiences of being on the barrel end of a gun had taught her otherwise. However, she did trust Mac, and with trembling knees she followed his bidding and stepped down into the darkness.
Inside the throat of the shaft, things sounded muffled. Below her, water dripped slow and steady, like a leaky faucet. Claire’s heart pounded in her ears, lobbying its complaints about the dire situation she had gotten into yet again. She tried to slow it down, sucking in deep breaths of musty, earth-scented air into her lungs.
It didn’t work.
And it didn’t stop the trembling that had now spread up her legs and torso to her shoulders.
She climbed down, darkness swallowing her more with each rung she counted.
Five rungs down, she could still see her hands.
Ten rungs now, her fingers were barely visible in the shadows.
Fifteen rungs down, she was going by feel alone.
She was on number twenty-one when she heard the boom of a gunshot overhead.
Her breath wheezed in her lungs. She wrapped her left arm around a ladder rung and peered up toward the lighted circle above her.
A beam of light bounced around up there, hitting the ceiling above the shaft and then disappearing.
