TheCrystal

by Sandra Cox

  A worry line knit Tamara’s brow. “Christopher, I can’t answer that. I just know that she is alive and that you will need the globe to find her.”

  His hands clenched around the ball and it was all he could do not to hurl it against the wall. “This piece of stone has brought us nothing but trouble.”

  She smiled gently, “Only if you consider Ms. Bell trouble.”

  He gave her an incredulous look and snorted. “That woman is as much trouble as the damn crystal, if not more. No let me revise that. She’s much more.”

  Tamara patted his arm, her touch as light as a butterfly, then reached up on tiptoe and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

  He smelled lavender and felt the warmth of her hand on his arm and was momentarily comforted.

  “Be careful, Christopher. Your journey is a long one, but in the end you and the one you love will come home safely.”

  Love? Before he could respond in the negative, Tamara glided silently from the room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Gabby watched the oriental uneasily. The woman’s smile sent chills down her spine. She knew instinctively that this woman would not only kill her but take pleasure in it. Damn Christopher anyhow for getting her into this mess. She had to get out and get out now! Good idea, ace, but how do you go about doing it?

  She looked around. The floor was a plain pine. The walls were scattered with heads of dead animals. She looked at a moose on the opposite wall and winced, hoping she didn’t share his fate.

  There was a stone fireplace and an upstairs loft.

  The air smelled stale, as if the place was rarely used. They must be in a hunting lodge.

  Gabby shivered in her faded gray nightshirt, cold and afraid. She had to get out of here. That woman kept looking at her as if she were a chicken about to lose its head.

  Who else was with her? Gabby was sure there was at least one other man, short and scrawny, but strong enough to carry her like a sack of potatoes.

  As if on cue, Leaky came in.

  “I’m going to get some sleep, watch her,” Lai ordered, heading for the loft. Before starting up the steps, she circled Gabby then placed a well aimed kick to her ribs. “What he sees in you I’ll never know,” Lai said as she headed up the stairs.

  Gabby winced. Fury overrode pain. Just wait, bitch.

  Leaky watched Lai ascend the stairs and said in a low tone, “You don’t want to tangle with that one.”

  He averted his face from Gabby’s penetrating gaze. Turning, Leaky walked over and sank down on a faded green couch. Minutes later, his head began to nod. He jerked upright once then his head fell to the back of the couch and his eyelids closed.

  Frantic, Gabby twisted her hands. If she was going to get out, now was the time. She pulled and jerked ’til her hands were raw and her wrists on fire.

  She looked around. Damn it! There was nothing to help her.

  Her legs were asleep and giving her fits as a thousand tiny pricks of pain shot through them. Grimacing, she moved them up and down then tried to twist her feet.

  She felt a slight give in the ropes. Heartened, she wiggled again.

  The ropes were loosening. Whoever had tied her hadn’t been nearly as concerned about her feet as they had about her hands.

  Forgetting about the discomfort in her legs and feet she closed her eyes in concentration. She wriggled her feet until the left foot was over the right. Drops of blood, from her raw ankles, trickled and pooled on the floor.

  Taking a deep breath, she pulled her left foot up as hard as she could, hitting her head against the wall in the process. Her foot flew free.

  She glanced at Leaky and sagged in relief. He was still asleep.

  Putting her hands against the wall Gabby pushed against it and stood up. For one brief moment, she was afraid she’d topple over as her legs trembled and her blood jabbed at her as it coursed, with the sluggishness of a snail, through her body.

  She took a silent step away from the wall. A lamp in the corner haloed the room. The loft was in darkness.

  Her hands still tied and her mouth taped, Gabby crept through the tiny galley kitchen toward the door. She bumped into the dark-paneled Seventies vintage cabinets. Her elbow hit a soda can sitting on the counter. Turning around, she made a desperate grab as it began to roll toward the edge of the counter. The can eluded her. Gabby held her breath as it landed on a braided throw rug, rolled to the edge of it…and stopped.

  Heaving a sigh of relief through her nostrils, she crept to the door. She turned around, grabbed the handle and pulled. The door stuck, swollen shut. She took a deep breath and heaved.

  The door swung open with a groan. Not waiting to see if anyone heard, she ran outside.

  The sky was dark, the stars hidden by the oak and pine surrounding the cabin. Ignoring the rutted drive, she plunged into the trees. God, she hoped she didn’t encounter a bear or a snake. But nothing could be worse than being in that cabin!

  A branch slashed across her face as she moved forward, not even sure in what direction she was heading. The ground beneath her feet sloped sharply.

  Reaching out with the back of her hands, she grabbed trees to keep from falling as she made her way downward.

  Tears of pain filled her eyes as she stubbed her toe against a sharp rock.

  She took another couple of steps then stopped and retraced her steps, feeling for the rock with her bare toes. It was lightening enough that she could make out a shadowy something just beyond her feet. She took an experimental step forward and grimaced as her foot came in contact with the sharp edge of the rock. Yup that was it.

  Gabby sat down among the twigs and dead leaves and felt around with her hands until she found the stone. Leaning it against the tree, she began to saw. Over and over while muscles in her arms, held at an awkward angle, screamed.

  She pulled and felt the rope weakening. Using all her strength she sawed the rope back and forth against the rock. Just as the rope snapped, she heard a shout.

  Jumping up she began to half run, half slide downhill.

  The branches caught at her arms and face. Her feet were raw and bleeding, but she paid no attention to them. As she ran she ripped off the tape around her mouth and bit back a howl.

  She cursed as she lost her footing and went rolling downhill, landing against a tree face first with enough force to bring tears to her eyes.

  Gabby stumbled to her feet. She could hear their voices.

  They were getting closer!

  The trail was getting rockier.

  It was hard to breathe.

  She had no idea what the elevation level was but it was high enough to make her giddy. Or maybe that was lack of food and water. She shook her head to clear it and kept moving.

  Suddenly, the trees disappeared and Gabby found herself standing on a rocky plateau, the moon moving out of a cloud momentarily silhouetting her.

  “There she is,” a man’s voice called out.

  Gabby whirled. There standing about a half mile up the mountain and to her right stood two figures pointing in her direction, Lai and Leaky.

  With a gasp, Gabby started to run across the flat rocky surface and stepped off into space.

  Behind her, Lai and Leaky scrambled down the mountain slope until they stopped on the precipice that Gabby had gone plunging over. They looked down. A still shadowy figure lay below, her arms flung out and one leg twisted awkwardly under her.

  Leaky glanced down at the figure, uneasily. The moon had turned her blonde hair to gold and a rising mist gave it a halo effect around her head. Involuntarily, he crossed himself.

  Lai looked at him and laughed scornfully.

  “Do you think I should go down and check on her?” he asked nervously.

  “Why? If she’s not dead she soon will be. Bears and bobcats still roam this mountain. And since we no longer have a bargaining chip, I suggest we leave this hellish place.”

  “You are a cold woman,” he muttered under his breath.

  “You woul
d do well to remember it,” she said in clipped tones. Pulling a cell phone from her waist, she flipped open the cover. “Land the helicopter immediately.”

  * * * * *

  Christopher guided his plane to the waiting hangar. Cutting the engine, he stepped out at the small airport in Asheville, North Carolina. Not exactly O’Hare but it was well lit and the asphalt was in top condition.

  The moon was full and the sky was clear with a sprinkling of bright stars. He looked at his watch. The illuminated dial showed midnight.

  A stocky middle-aged man of medium height opened the passenger door and hopped out. Billy Burke had been working for Christopher for the past three years.

  Billy had a head full of thick brown hair that he combed straight back. He was charismatic and talked with a drawl. But the good ole boy routine hid a man nearly as smart as Christopher himself and one who knew how to handle himself in a fight.

  He strode over to Christopher and said soberly, “I’d feel better boss if I was going with you.”

  “I’ll be okay. You need to take care of things here.” He touched his cell phone briefly. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Christopher reached into the cockpit and pulled out a canvas bag.

  A concerned frown furrowed Billy’s brow, but he didn’t ask questions.

  Christopher walked to the Expedition that Billy had rented for him, the moon reflected on its gleaming black hood. He stepped inside and slung the bag, holding the crystal onto the seat.

  He put the key in and turned the ignition. The big car sprang to life. “I’ll be back.”

  “I’m counting on it, partner.”

  Christopher put the SUV into reverse, turned around and headed out of the airport.

  As Christopher drove away, Billy watched the car disappear into the darkness. A feeling of foreboding filled him. Ever since Christopher had returned from Springfield there had been something different about him, a tension that had not been there before.

  Billy had no doubt that it all centered on that damned crystal of his aunt’s and the woman. Not that he could fault Christopher’s taste in women. From what he heard, the blonde was a knockout. Tall, but a knockout, he thought grinning.

  He sobered as his thoughts drifted back. Back to a dark alley that smelled of stale beer and garbage.

  Christopher had saved Billy’s bacon in that alley.

  Christopher hadn’t known Billy from Adam, but luckily for Billy Christopher had taken exception to two men holding one man helpless while another worked on him with a knife.

  Billy still carried a souvenir from that little fracas, a long jagged scar that ran the length of his ribs on his left side. The scar was puckered and pink. But by damn, thanks to Christopher he was still alive. Besides, the scar added a certain cachet with the ladies. Nothing like a little unsolicited sympathy to aid love’s cause.

  And on the whole, he had come out of the encounter a whole lot better than his tormentors.

  Christopher had appeared out of nowhere. Billy’s very own guardian angel, dressed in black, eyes gleaming like a damn cat’s saying in that low-timbred voice of his, “The numbers seem a little uneven.” He was tossing a knife up and down in the air that gleamed in the light every time he tossed it.

  The man carving Billy had turned. “Mister this ain’t your concern. Unless you want a piece of this I suggest you go on your way.”

  Christopher shook his head. “Wrong answer,” he’d said quietly. Then in a movement too quick for the eye to follow, the knife had whistled through the air and buried itself deep in the man’s shoulder.

  Before they could run Christopher was on them. One of the men holding Billy howled with pain and Billy heard the unmistakable sound of breaking bone. By the time Christopher finished with them, they had to crawl out of the alley.

  Billy had been with him ever since. If some of Christopher’s dealings were not quite in agreement with the law, so be it.

  The laws were not exactly made for poor folks like him anyway. His parents had been hard-working honest folks who believed in the system, never quite understanding that it was set up for the rich.

  So if Christopher occasionally made a rich man a bit poorer, it didn’t hurt Billy’s feelings. He was paid and paid well for his loyalty. And if he wasn’t, he still would have done it, because he owed Christopher.

  Tamping down unsettling memories, Billy stared out into the night, watching the curving road for a glimpse of a tail-light.

  * * * * *

  Christopher drove along the winding mountain road faster than he should have. The dark surrounded him. His window was down and the wind whipped about him, moaning softly.

  He still had about thirty minutes to get to the cabin. That would put him there several hours before dawn, which was exactly what he wanted, time to scout the area.

  A prickling sensation crawled up his spine as he caught a glitter of green out of the corner of his eyes. Glancing over he saw the duffel bag lit with a luminous glow.

  He turned his attention back to the road just in time to see the big buck standing in the middle of it.

  Swerving hard into the left lane, he hit gravel alongside the road and lost control. The SUV lurched on its side and hung for a moment on two wheels.

  The bag holding the crystal slammed against Christopher’s head knocking him out cold. He lurched forward, deploying the airbags but not before the pouch rolled out of the open window.

  With a scream of protest, the SUV tilted then crashed onto its side.

  Chapter Twenty

  The dog discovered her first. Whining, he pressed his nose against her, his long brown tail wagging.

  The man ambled a hundred or so yards behind, leaning on a knurled walking stick. The trail he walked was a thin dirt path lined with pine, newly leafed oak and tightly budded rhododendron that blocked his view. “What have you found, boy?”

  The dog’s only reply was a bark. The man pushed forward to stop at the edge of a small clearing littered with pine needles and dead leaves that were turning to loam. “Oh, my God.” A woman in a nightshirt, bunched about her waist, lay on the ground. She was wedged between two saplings.

  He hurried forward. Kneeling, he put two fingers against her neck feeling for a pulse.

  He frowned. It was faint, almost too faint to detect. He lowered his head until his cheek was hovering above her lips. With a relieved sigh, he felt her breath on his face. Her feet were a bloody mess and one ankle was swollen to twice the size of the other, her entire leg and foot black and blue. When he touched her ribs, she moaned. One or two ribs were either cracked or broken.

  He looked up at the ridge twenty or so feet above and frowned. She had clearly fallen. What the hell was she doing out here wandering around in her nightie?

  He was middle-aged but in better shape than most men in their twenties. Probably due to the time he spent hiking the Black Mountains.

  Scooping her up, he strode back the way he had come.

  * * * * *

  Pain brought Gabby back to consciousness. She was in an austere but clean cabin with honey-colored log walls. A tall, middle-aged man, his hair drawn back in a ponytail, sat at a handsome pine table eating.

  She sniffed as the smell of fresh coffee, scrambled eggs and ham permeated the tiny cabin, momentarily forgetting her aching body.

  A wet tongue slid across her cheek. She gasped then laughed at a big red dog in front of her, his tail wagging from side to side. She winced as a sharp pain shot through her ribs. Cautiously, she touched them and found out they were bandaged.

  She stuck out her hand to pet the dog and grimaced. Her wrist was swollen and sore. A neat white bandage was wrapped around it. Holy Toledo, if she had been in a barroom brawl, it had certainly been on the losing end.

  She glanced down. She was dressed in a man’s plaid shirt and lying on what appeared to be a bed that, when slid under a pine-hewn bolster, served as a couch.

  Her eyes returned to the man at the table. Seeing she was awake, he st
ood up. It was more like unfolding than actually standing up. He seemed to rise unhurriedly in sections, head, torso and then legs. “So you are awake.”

  “Who are you?”

  “John Paul Adams, who are you?”

  “I’m…I’m…” Her eyes widened with panic. “I have no idea,” she whispered.

  Their eyes locked. His filled with concern, hers, she was sure, with panic.

  He stood looking down at her. “You took quite a bump on the back of your head.”

  She gingerly touched the goose egg on her skull. “Do you know what happened to me?”

  He laughed a deep rich sound. “You took a tumble down the mountain in your nightie.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “I did what?”

  He nodded. “I found you lying in a small clearing. Lucky for you, it was littered with pine needles or I doubt if we would be having this conversation.”

  “Where the hell am I?” She winced as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

  “You are in the Black Mountains.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’m in the Dakotas?”

  John Paul laughed again. She didn’t know this man from Adam, but she did enjoy his laugh. It was natural, warm and real. “That’s the Black Hills. You are in North Carolina. Are you familiar with the Black Hills?” He watched her closely.

  Her forehead wrinkled. “I know places, just not me.”

  “You’ve obviously suffered a trauma. Your memory will come back. Just don’t push it.”

  “We both hope,” she muttered.

  “How about some breakfast?”

  “Please, I’m ravenous. And an aspirin if you have it.”

  “Coming right up. Breakfast with an aspirin chaser.”

  She stared at the dog. “I have a dog. Is he mine?”

  John Paul was walking toward the stove. He stopped and turned. “No,” he said gently. “But if you remember that, the rest will come.” He turned and walked back to the stove. It was plain white and functional with no bells or whistles.

  As John Paul scooped fluffy yellow eggs onto a white plate, he glanced over and saw her staring at him a tiny frown pleating her brows.