“Yes. And if someone can find the first one, there should be a clue that will point to the next one and so on until eventually, the final chamber is located.”
Reaching down, he scratched behind the hound’s ear. The dog tilted its head slightly in appreciation. “Naturally, the people who placed the chambers in their locations would have found it simple to find the way home. This could only mean that they were ordered not to return until an appointed time.”
“But the appointed time and path were lost to antiquity,” Sean pointed out.
“Until now.” Joe had picked up the stone disc and was examining it again. His eyes were mesmerized by the object. “Amazing that such a remarkable treasure has been hidden for thousands of years without anyone ever coming close to finding it.”
Allyson interrupted his thoughts, “So, what’s the next step?”
His tone was direct. “We figure out the riddle, of course,” he replied. “That’s the reason you came here.”
Taking the sheet of paper in his hand, Joe began reexamining the lines. His finger traced the passages a couple of times before he looked up from the page. “It is so simple, and yet it is immeasurably difficult to figure out.”
“Do you have an idea of what it might mean?” Sean had hoped his friend might know something in relation to the key words used in the clue.
“Not really.” Then he corrected himself, “Well, I mean, the chambers make sense. That part we get,” he forced a quick laugh, “but the raven and dove, chariots of Heaven, stones? It all seems pretty random.”
Allyson sighed. Her brain was on information overload. She paced her way over to the back door of the cabin and looked out the large window onto a darkly stained deck. Deep forest awaited just beyond the moderately sized yard behind the house. At the edge of the woods, twisted ancient trees stood hauntingly silent in the faint lights of the house like something out of a horror film. “You mind if I step outside for a minute, guys? My brain needs a break.”
They looked over at her, startled from staring at the disc. “Sure,” Joe responded, “go right ahead. Take a look around.” He made a passive motion with his hand, turning immediately back to the round piece of stone in the other palm.
Allyson eased the glass door open and stepped onto the planks of the patio. Her ears filled with the sounds of the forest, and, as when she arrived, her nose enjoyed the sweet smells of nature. In the clearing where the house was situated, the cloudless sky that opened up above was absolutely breathtaking. With no moon visible, the number of stars dotting the canvas of night seemed infinite. After walking across the porch, she stopped at the railing, spun around, and leaned back against it so she could just gaze at the sky.
There were many advantages of living in a big city like Atlanta, but there was something very cool about being out in the middle of nowhere. All of the day-to-day stuff just seemed to melt away. Well, except the current situation. That was hardly something day to day. She found herself thinking about what they might find. What would a golden chamber even look like? Certainly, the events of the past twenty hours were unfathomable. On the other hand, though, she felt a sort of calm at the moment.
Was she a closet action junkie? Or did she have a secret passion for history that had never been explored until now? There was one other thought that entered her mind, but she dispelled it quickly.
A shooting star burst through the black sky above, shaking her from her thoughts. It only lasted a couple of seconds before burning out. Allyson closed her eyes, just like she had done as a child whenever she had seen a falling star. Abruptly, she opened her eyes at the sound of the sliding door opening.
Apparently, the two men had decided to join her for a bit of air as well.
“What were you doing?” Sean asked, a little curious.
“Nothing. Just saw a shooting star.” Her response was lighthearted.
“Did ya make a wish?” Joe smiled playfully.
“Of course,” she said, returning the grin.
“And what did you wish for?” There was hint of flirting to Sean’s question.
“I can’t tell you that. Then it won’t come true.” She twisted her body around and propped her elbow on the wooden rail.
The group stood on the platform, staring up into the universe. Constellations and random clusters of stars all blended together in the elaborate cosmic tapestry.
“Yeah,” Joe began, “you can sure see a lot of shooting stars out here. No lights from the city to blur out anything. On a clear night like tonight, I bet you can see half a dozen an hour.”
Out of the blue, Sean exclaimed, “That’s it!”
“What?” The other two were startled by the sudden excitement and spoke in unison.
“The falling stars!” Sean said hurriedly. “Chariots of Heaven. You see?” He held out his arms wide, reinforcing the question.
Allyson didn’t understand, but Joe caught on immediately. “Dadgummit, boy, I think you’re onto something. I didn’t even think of that.”
Sean tried to clarify what he was saying, “Meteors, or shooting stars, as we call them, were sometimes called the chariots of the gods in ancient times. There are several myths in which a deity’s arrival on the Earth to visit mankind is by means of a falling star. The chariot was a common conveyance, so whoever created the myths simply applied it to the story as a necessary detail for the ordinary citizen.”
“Oh,” she said after hearing the explanation. “I see. Sort of like those pictures of a Greek god riding a chariot.”
“Exactly!” the two men answered in tandem.
“So what does ancient mythology have to do with a golden chamber in the United States?” She placed her hands on her hips, still not seeing the big picture.
Turning his attention to their host, Sean said, “Mac, check on your computer to see if there was a significant meteoric event ever recorded anywhere here in America. I’m talkin’ cave drawings, stone carvings, anything you can find.”
Joe was already walking back to the door. “Way ahead of ya, bud.”
Still confused, Allyson followed the two of them back to the computer. The dog looked up curiously from his spot on the floor near the fireplace.
Once again, they huddled around the computer, Joe busily typing in different key words to find anything he could that might give them some kind of indication as to where they should go next. After about ten minutes of turning up nothing, he had an epiphany. “I think I know where the next clue is,” he said, looking up. “Have you ever heard of a place called Brasstown Bald or Track Rock?”
Allyson shook her head while Sean responded with a slight nod. “I think so. I’ve never been there though. You think it has something to do with all this?”
“Yep. At this site there are a few large boulders with very odd markings on them. They’re ancient petroglyphs,” Joe was on a roll again.
“What do you mean, odd?” Allyson didn’t want to be left out.
“Well, the shapes of the drawings are not like anything that has ever been discovered on the planet. There has never been a single documented find of cave drawings or carvings anywhere in the world that even closely resemble what is on those stones.” He held up his finger to make the point firmer. “And that is exactly what the riddle tells us to look for, ‘ancient stones.’ Along with finding these ancient stones, it also suggests that they mark not only the path of those who are seeking the chambers, but also the path of the chariots of Heaven. One of the theories that I had completely forgotten about says that the markings on the boulders at Track Rock are actually recordings of celestial events. That has to be the place that will show us where to go next.”
“How are we going to be able to decipher the symbols if there is nothing like them in the world?” Sean hated to be the downer in the conversation.
“I don’t know. Haven’t figured that part out yet.” Joe looked at both of them gravely. “We have to try. We can take my car and leave first thing in the morning,” he said as he rose
and walked toward a hallway that led to a spare bedroom. “You two can sleep in here tonight if you’d like.”
“I’ll stick to the couch,” Sean insisted.
“You don’t have to do that,” Allyson looked at him with a smile. “I won’t bite.”
“No, the couch is fine for me. I might snore, and I don’t want to keep you up.”
Joe stared open-mouthed at the interaction. “I don’t care what ya do or where you sleep. I’m going to get some shut eye. We got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Mac,” Sean turned away from the previous conversation, “you don’t have to go with us.” As he spoke, Sean saw the look in his friend’s eyes. There would be no keeping Joe McElroy from at least seeing where this next clue might lead. The man had, seemingly, spent more time than Sean had imagined researching and learning about the four chambers.
They had most certainly come to the right place. “All right. But don’t tell your wife I let you do this. She already doesn’t like you hanging out with me.” Sean passed him a wicked grin.
“That’s because you get me in trouble.” Joe laughed then said, “You think I want her to know what we’re doing? She’d go friggin’ nuts. I’m just glad that she’s at her mother’s tonight. There’d be no end to the grief I’d be getting right about now.”
“Sounds like you have a good relationship,” Allyson said sarcastically.
“Oh, I love my wife,” he answered. “She just doesn’t want me to do anything crazy.”
“Wonder what would make her think you would do anything like that?” It was Sean’s turn to be sarcastic.
“Why do I feel like there is an inside joke going on right now?” Allyson stabbed.
The two old friends exchanged knowing glances as Joe headed toward his own bedroom. “That is a whole other story, my dear,” he replied.
“Yeah,” Sean continued, “maybe later.”
“I hate inside jokes,” she pouted and shut the door in Sean’s face.
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Good night then.” The smile was still on his face five minutes later as he drifted off to sleep on the sofa.
31
Atlanta
Detective Morris woke from some of the deepest sleep he’d ever had. Sunshine poured through the bedroom window of his condo as his eyes struggled against the bright light. On the nightstand, his cell phone was ringing and vibrating in the odd, circular dance that phones do when they’re on hard surfaces. He reached over and grabbed it, glancing at the caller ID to see who’d awoken him at such an early hour. Whoever was calling him was doing so from a number he didn’t recognize.
“This is Morris,” he answered groggily.
The voice on the other line sounded extremely fatigued. “Hey, Trent. It’s Lynch.”
“You been working all night?” The sound of Lynch’s voice woke him up a little.
“Yeah. I’m actually on my way home. Just didn’t want to call from an office line at this time of morning. A few too many ears around, if you know what I mean.”
Smart kid. A common misconception was that cell phones were monitored more closely than land lines. When cell phones were monitored, it was usually specific suspects who were already being watched by the police. The lines in the office, however, could be permanently tapped. Trent had asked Lynch not to let anyone know what he was investigating, and so far, the young cop had done well. A simple phone call the night before put everything in motion. Lynch was thorough and more importantly, he was honest.
“So, what you got for me, Lynch?”
“A couple of things,” he answered promptly. “First, Hartsfield said the IAA jet is still in its hangar and has been for nearly a week.
“Also, all the airlines report not having a Sean Wyatt onboard. It is possible that he has some kind of fake passport or documents as an alias, but I doubt it.”
“That means he probably didn’t leave the country.” A good sign, but the fugitive could still be anywhere. “What else did you get?”
“There are a few people here and there that he runs with, but for the most part, he’s a loner. I guess when you live most of your life in foreign countries, looking for ancient artifacts, you can’t have much of a social life.”
Trent rubbed his face. “So no real associates other than Schultz? No girlfriend? Nothing?”
“No.” The voice on the other line paused. “Can’t say I blame him for the girlfriend thing though.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, several years back, when Wyatt was in college, he was in a motorcycle accident. His girlfriend was on the back. She died on the spot. He only had a few scrapes and bruises. That’s gotta mess with your mind for a long time.”
This was new information. “What happened in the accident?”
Lynch was glad he at least had something to share after working all night. “Apparently, they were on their way to the movies and passed through a busy intersection. Some moron shot right through a red light and smacked into the bike.”
Morris contemplated the story. “How was Wyatt not hurt?”
“Just one of those weird things. The car barely missed hitting his left leg, but hit her square on. Wyatt was thrown about twenty feet but left the scene with only minor injuries. The report said she was killed almost instantly.”
“Ugh. That’s rough.”
“Yeah,” Lynch went on after yawning. “At any rate, Wyatt finished college and disappeared for a few years, as I’m sure you know.”
He did. “So, there’s no one else connected to this guy?”
“Nope. Except some guy up in Cartersville. He’s a park ranger up there at that Indian mound state park, Etowah or something like that. Found a few pictures of them together and looked him up. Name’s Joe McElroy, in his mid fifties. He and his wife have a cabin in the woods up there about twenty minutes from the park.”
Trent’s mind snapped awake instantly. “You have the address of that cabin?” His voice had lost its scratchy sound.
“Yeah. I got it here somewhere.” There was a silent moment as the cop on the other end of the line was busy looking through what Trent imagined to be a small pile of papers in the passenger seat. A few seconds later, Lynch came back on, “You ready?”
Morris wrote down the address quickly with a pen and notepad from the nightstand. “Anything else I need to know?”
“No. I don’t really think that this McElroy had anything to do with what’s been going on though. He was on duty at the park all day yesterday.”
“You checked?”
“Of course.” The young cop’s tone of voice made it sound like it was a routine thing. Good kid.
Lynch continued, “From what I can tell, McElroy is probably your best bet.”
“Probably,” Morris agreed while getting out of bed and heading toward the bathroom. After a quick shower, he would be on his way north.
“Should I get a unit out there to the McElroy place?” Lynch broke into Trent’s thoughts.
“No. I’m already on my way there. Just get some sleep.”
“All right. Sorry I couldn’t find anything else, sir.”
“You did great, Lynch. Thanks.” Trent hit the end button on his phone while he turned on the water.
He showered quickly and threw on some clothes, barely drying off. A few minutes later, he was out the door and in his car, flying down the street toward the interstate.
32
Blue Ridge Mountains
The highway from Cartersville to the Track Rock Gap Archaeological Area is a rolling and twisty stretch of road, bending in and around the Blue Ridge Mountains. During the warmer months, motorcycle enthusiasts frequent the area in search of the fantastic mountain views and curvy asphalt that make for a spectacular ride. Autumn in the area also provides some of the most vibrant colors in the country with trees of red, orange, and yellow spiking the normal green of the forest.
Joe, Allyson, and Sean had arrived in the mountainous region only thirty-five minutes afte
r leaving his cabin, and the sun was shining brightly in the midmorning sky. Joe had got up early and made an enormous pancake breakfast for his guests. Sparing no thought to gluttony, he made eggs, a bowl of fresh fruit, hot maple syrup, and turkey sausage to accompany the flapjacks.
Allyson and Sean had barely taken the time to chew the delicious food. They’d been extremely hungry, not having eaten a meal since the previous day’s breakfast. Sean had slept well on the soft couch, insisting that Allyson take the guest bed. Of course, Joe had said he would sleep on the couch, but Sean couldn’t allow his friend to follow through with that generous offer.
Most of the drive so far had been spent in silence; the three companions were either too tired to talk or still in a post-breakfast coma. After looking out the window at the passing countryside for a while, Allyson broke the quiet. “Thanks again for the food, Joe. It was amazing.”
“You’re more than welcome.” He grinned across the center console at her.
Joe continued guiding the truck through what the locals called, “God’s Country.” With the amazing views, the passengers in the truck could understand why. “I wonder why more people don’t visit this area,” Allyson remarked.
“We do get a fair share of visitors coming through here, but it certainly doesn’t get a lot of the publicity state parks in the West get, or even as much as the ones in the Northeast. Can’t say that I mind that though,” Joe looked over at her in the front passenger seat. “I kinda like it quiet up here. Too many people comin’ and goin’ might take away from the beauty of the place.”
“I guess,” she returned to staring out across the rolling valleys from their high vantage point.
In the backseat of the truck, Sean had been checking his voicemail messages for the last few minutes. Odd, he thought, that Detective Morris had called several times trying to get ahold of him. Morris should have got the hint.
Looking in the rearview mirror, Joe noticed the perplexed look on Sean’s face. “What’s goin’ on, buddy? You okay?”
The Secret of the Stones Page 15
