by Lark Lane
“Your cell phone is BlueMagick issue, Ms. Ransom,” Jeri said. “It’s in your contract. Dismissal for cause, you turn over the phone upon separation.”
“Separation?”
Piper retrieved the phone from Nicole’s desk and added it to a bag containing her other BlueMagick doodads. She looked so pathetic. If I wasn’t so pissed, I’d feel sorry for her. I gave her a chance to make things a little better.
“Who did you give the scanner to, Nicole?” Not that I thought she’d answer. “Was it Heron? MolyMo? Tell me, and I might not press charges.”
“You’ll be sorry,” was all she said at the door.
“Yeah, you keep saying that.” I turned to Jeri. “Thanks. There’s something urgent I have to take care of. You get with legal, and we’ll meet about this next week.”
Heron’s corporate espionage was exposed. I had no doubt Nora had the scanner, unwittingly caught up in the scheme. Half an hour later I was in the Range Rover headed up Auburn-Folsom Road, and still no contact with Brad. I glanced at the GPS. It would take another hour to reach the Barton dig. I tried Brad again, with no joy.
We had to retrieve that scanner before Nora gave it to Steve Heron.
Chapter 5
I gripped the wheel and fought off faint random waves of nausea. It was already hot when I left the house, and I’d driven nearly an hour up the winding back roads from Granite Bay. I had the windows down and a scarf tied over my hair, and there was no escaping the scent of pine.
A little past ten, I was in Foresthill. Orientation wasn’t until eleven, and the dig was supposedly only half an hour more away. I parked in front of a coffee place and went inside for something cold to drink.
With a twinge of self-pity, I thought of J.D. I hadn’t heard from him since Wednesday. I thought he’d call yesterday and explain why he left so abruptly, but nothing.
I wasn’t the only one with issues.
The scanner was still in my bag, but I’d stuck Steve’s check in the back of a dresser drawer in my room. He said it was mine no matter what, like a pro athlete’s signing bonus, but after thinking about it, it seemed bad luck to deposit it before I collected the samples.
I sat down with my iced latte and double-checked the Google map I’d printed out at home. It showed two bodies of water close to each other, Sugar Pine Reservoir and the smaller, ironically named Big Reservoir. The dig was near Big Reservoir. I drew the route on the map with a blue marker. I had to stay on Foresthill Road until Sugar Pine Road then take that to Big Reservoir Road. Easy peasy.
Done. But I couldn’t stop staring at the meandering curve of Sugar Pine Road. Absently, I drew a blue line on it all the way to the end. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply and blew the air out. My stomach was tied in a knot of anxiety. Lisa called it. No way was I going to last up here three weeks.
“That’s not right,” said a cheerful familiar voice. “You’ll be lost if you go that way.”
“Brad, hi,” I said.
He sat down and shook his iced mocha. “Great minds think alike. Though if I’d been thinking at all, I would have offered you a ride. Stacey said your air conditioning is out. Why the map?”
“No air conditioning and no GPS,” I said. “It’s not exactly a luxury vehicle.”
“You can follow me then.” He tapped the blue line on my map. “Don’t go that way. Trust me.”
“Oh, I was just fooling around,” I said. “My folks used to have a cabin at the end of Sugar Pine Road.”
“Hey, why don’t you just ride with me? We can come back for your car later.”
“I’d love to, but I’d better not,” I said. The air conditioning would be awesome, and saving the gas would be even better, but I couldn’t risk it. “I might have to leave early.”
That sounded so innocuous, so plausible. So much better than the whole sentence: I might slip into a screaming flashback and freak out and have to leave early.
I followed Brad to the dig with no problem. I was shaky on Sugar Pine and my hands gripped the wheel so tightly they turned white, but once we turned onto Big Reservoir Road I settled down.
We were just in time, the last to arrive. Cindy Slater from the comparative religion seminar waved at us like a maniac when we entered the lecture room. She motioned us over to some empty chairs by her. I didn’t see Dr. Barton anywhere.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make the party last week,” Cindy said. She looked at Brad. “I heard it got pretty wild.”
You could say that.
“Thank you all for coming.” Jane Marks presented the seminar. “I’ll try to get through this material quickly. Please hold your questions until the end.”
She was dressed utterly unlike at school, in jeans and a white tank top under a blue cotton work shirt with her hair tied back in a bright red cotton scarf. She looked like a giant Rosie the Riveter. After an hour of do’s and don’ts, including a precise and stern admonishment not to pollute the dig site or remove any material from it whatsoever, she sent us to lunch.
“They’re serving a complimentary luncheon in the cafeteria. Be back in half an hour for a tour of the main tunnel.”
Cindy monopolized Brad through the meal, which was fine with me. I was preoccupied, caught up in an ethical dilemma.
I didn’t want to do the internship.
From the moment Jane Marks started waxing philosophic about the joy of finding archeological treasures, I knew I was in the wrong place. I didn’t care. I realized I’d taken the internship for one reason only: money. First the six thousand dollars, and then the chance to get my loans paid off and the other money Steve offered.
Money. If I didn’t need money, I wouldn’t be here. I hated the place.
The good news was: I didn’t fear it. I had absolutely no fear of the grounds around the dig or the trees or the smell or any of it. My aversion came from my thoroughly honest and absolutely defensible dislike of dirt and grime. And—excuse me, but it’s true—I didn’t care about finding buried artifacts. Foresthill was a bogey man no more. I was free.
Except for that ethical dilemma part.
Free or not, I still needed the money. Would it be wrong of me to take the tunnel tour, knowing I wasn’t going to be back next Monday? The scanner Steve gave me didn’t actually remove any dirt. It just analyzed what was there, so I was good on that score.
I thought of Stacey and her focused determination to go to Stanford. I could be focused. I could put myself first. I could, I could.
We entered the tunnel in a bunched-up group, but as we walked we spread out and I lingered at the back. Brad kept dropping behind with me, and Cindy kept finding reasons to be next to him. It was never obvious before in class, but here at the dig I saw what Steve meant about her. Chatty. Beyond. Belief.
And she wanted Brad. She trailed him like an eager puppy. I’d love it if he found someone to take his mind off Lisa, but clearly Cindy wasn’t doing it for him. He ducked down a side tunnel to get away from her, and she hurried after him.
I was alone. I quickly dug the scanner out of my bag and pushed one of the buttons until it blinked then jammed the probe into the dirt wall. The light went steady, and I started on the next one. Could it be this easy? I got through the second light. While the third light was still blinking, I heard Jane Marks from around the corner.
“Let’s all keep together now. We don’t want anyone—”
I stuffed the scanner into my bag as Brad and Cindy returned from the side tunnel and Jane Marks appeared.
“—lost in here.” Jane Marks gave me a squinting frown. “Are you coming, Ms. Deven?”
“Um, no. Ms. Marks, I can’t do this.” My heart raced. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Anything illegal, anyway, though I suspected Dr. Barton wouldn’t like it. And I knew Jane Marks wouldn’t. “I’m going to have to turn down the internship.”
If she asked why, I was ready to explain that I must be claustrophobic. But she didn’t, and I was relieved to escape telling a lie.
“I�
�m sure the next person on the wait list will be happy to hear it, Ms. Deven. You can go now, if you like.”
I tried to be cool and not run through the tunnel. I was like a thief who got away with it, guilty and thrilled.
Brad caught up with me at my car. “Nora, what happened? Were you claustrophobic or something?” Exactly what I hoped people would assume.
“No. I’m fine. But I have to go.”
“I can’t leave yet,” he said. “I have to finish something.”
“It’s okay, Brad. Really,” I said. “I have to finish something too. I’m going to face an old dragon.”
I drove away feeling fantastic. I was free. The cake was baked and out of the oven. Now I was going to ice it. I turned right onto Sugar Pine instead of left and headed for the cabin.
The scent of pine was different here. Stronger the closer I got. As if six years had never happened, the bends of the road came back to me, familiar as yesterday. I always hated coming up here. It was boring. The cabin wasn’t well insulated, and there were always insects and dirt everywhere. I made the final bend, and it came into view.
It looked nice. Grandma had sold the lease to pay for all the funerals. It looked like the new owners had made improvements. There was a new roof. Our tree house was gone from the oak tree with a bigger, nicer one in its place. I parked and got out of the car. I didn’t see any other cars. It seemed no one was there.
I got as far as the tree house when a dog started barking. A black and white border collie came bounding around from behind the cabin and raced past me into the woods.
“Trillian, stop!” Stacey called out. “Aunt Nora, Trillian ran away!”
“That’s okay, Stacey,” I said. “We’ll get her.”
We went after the dog. Within a few minutes we caught up to her peeing next to a bush. I grabbed her leash while she was still squatting.
“Good girl, Trill.” Stacey patted her on the head and we started back.
As we reached the tree house, a loud popping sound came from the campfire. “What was that?” I said. “Your dad knows we can’t have fireworks up here.”
Danny yelled, “What the hell are you doing?” My mom screamed, but they were no words I could understand.
The popping went on, and I knew. It was a gun. I pushed Stacey down toward the tree. Her mom screamed, and the gun fired again. The scream stopped.
I had to keep Stacey safe. I pushed her up the doggy steps to the tree house Danny had put in then scooped up Trillian in my arms and followed. The screaming went on. My mom was hurt bad. Where was my dad?
“Close your eyes and cover your ears,” I whispered to Stacey. The shots stopped. I could hear whimpering. I peeked through an opening, and when I looked down the bile rose in my stomach.
They were all dead or dying. A guy with long filthy hair and black tattoos on his face was reloading a rifle on the other side of the fire. Stacey’s mom was lying next to Danny on the ground, neither of them moving. Mom moaned.
I spotted Nick hiding behind a bush. He wasn’t hurt, and the gunman didn’t seem to know he was there. Then I saw my dad, struggling to his feet. He lunged for the guy but it was too late. The gun was loaded.
The guy shot Dad in the face and then shot Mom in the head.
Trillian started barking and jerked loose. I felt the burn of her leash as it ripped out of my hands. She raced down the doggy steps and charged after the guy, and he riddled her with a spray of bullets.
“No!” Nick raced out of his hiding place toward the guy. Fourteen-year-old Nick, defending his dead dog. The guy killed him with one shot to the forehead.
They were all dead. They were all dead!
Chapter 6
I passed through Foresthill and still no word from Brad. According to the GPS I’d be at the dig within twenty minutes. He must still be down in the tunnels without signal. I had to hope that Nora was with him.
Those readings were better than we’d hoped. We had to keep the data out of MolyMo’s hands until we could make our move with the legislature on mineral rights. I hate politics.
Finally. Brad answered my call. “Hey, dude, it’s all good. I got the readings. And let me tell you, Jane Marks was about to bust my—”
“Brad, stop talking,” I said. “Is Nora with you?”
“Ah, no. She had a bout of claustrophobia. Can’t handle the tunnel. Heron’s going to have to find someone else for his nefarious plot.”
“Dammit. She may have already done Heron’s work for him. She has Proto 1. You have to get it from her before she turns it over.”
“She’s gone, dude. Left half an hour ago. Did I hear you right? She has Proto 1?”
“Nicole gave it to Heron instead of you.”
A white Jetta passed me going toward Foresthill Road. “Hey, Brad. I should have passed Nora’s car coming out.”
“Where are you?”
“Sugar Pine Road.”
“You’re on a cell?”
“I’m practical, not paranoid,” I said. “I use cell phones when necessary.”
“Right. Well, Nora’s gone. She said she had something to do. Face an old dragon.”
“Crap, she’s going to her old cabin,” I said. Why would she do that on her own? “Where her family was murdered.”
“That’s a big dragon.”
“Can you get hold of Lisa and find out where it is?”
“I can tell you where it is,” Brad said. “At the end of Sugar Pine Road. You’re on your way.”
“I don’t know how you do that,” I said.
“It’s called talking to people.”
“Right. I’ll talk to you later.” I jammed on the accelerator.
After ten minutes the two paved lanes ended and became a gravel road too narrow for more than one vehicle. The bends were so close together, it was slow going. I will never understand the allure of a cabin in the woods.
I pulled up behind an empty red Altima parked fifty feet away from a brown two-story cabin built at the end of the road. As soon as I opened my door, I heard the screams. In front of the cabin, a man raised a shotgun and fired nearly straight up in the air.
“What the hell are you doing?” I said. “Put that thing down.”
“They’re all dead!” Nora’s voice came from a tree near the guy with the gun. There were steps built around the trunk leading up to a good-sized tree house.
“There’s a crazy woman up there,” the guy said. “I’m just trying to scare her off.”
“Scare her to death, you idiot.” It occurred to me he was the one with the gun. Calling him an idiot was probably not a good idea. “Look, I know her. I’ll bring her down.”
“And who the hell are you?” He lowered the rifle. He’d made his point. He kept an eye on me as I went up the tree house steps, but he didn’t say anything more.
Nora was on the floor crying, her whole body shaking, and her fists in tight balls. I picked her up and pulled her onto my lap and rocked her there on the floor. “It’s going to be all right,” I said. “Everything is going to be all right.”
I kissed her forehead and brushed her hair out of her eyes and rocked until the shaking stopped and she was able to get down to the ground. I put her in the Range Rover buckled her in. She stared straight ahead. I had no idea if she knew I was there.
I got her purse out of her car and gave it to her. Nothing else looked worth keeping.
“I’ll have someone come for the car,” I told the guy, though I wasn’t confident it would still be there.
I turned off the music in the Range Rover. Noise was last thing she’d want now.
-oOo-
I know J.D. would have listened, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I was grateful he didn’t push me. When we got home, the house was empty. “Stacey and Lisa are at work,” I said.
He came inside with me and looked in the refrigerator for something to drink. “Beer?” he said. “Or there’s a bottle of pinot grigio.”
“The pinot.” I sat at a coun
ter stool while he opened the wine. After half a glass, the words started. “Something happened,” I said. “Back then. Something I never told anyone, not even the therapist. I guess I thought if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be true.”
I drank some more, and he filled my glass again. Hell, I might drink a whole bottle myself.
“I was a coward, J.D. I didn’t try to save them. I hid, and I watched them die. And then I…I couldn’t hold onto the leash. I didn’t hold tight enough. Trill ran at the gunman, and he shot her. Nick came out of hiding to save his dog, and he was killed for it.”
A tear slid down my cheek.
“It was my fault. If I’d only held on, held on tighter….”
Wracking sobs shook my body. J.D. came to me and held me close to his chest.
“I could have saved him. I can still feel the leash burning in my hands. If only I’d held tighter, I could have saved Nick. If I’d only…if only…”
“You have nothing to blame yourself for.”
He kissed my forehead and pressed me closer to his chest. At the sound of his heartbeat, my tension eased. I hung on to the rhythmic cadence. So sure. So steady.
“You saved Stacey,” he said. “You saved yourself. That was brave and good.”
“It wasn’t brave or good,” I said. “It was chance. We should have been there with the others.”
“Maybe it was was a miracle,” J.D. said. “Maybe you have a guardian angel. Maybe there’s a god after all and he saved you that night. All I know is I’m glad you’re here, Nora Deven, and I wish you’d stop feeling guilty for being alive in the world.”
I believed him. God in heaven, I believed him.
Tears streamed down my face, but I felt better than I had in years. Better than I ever had in my life. He kissed me ever so gently, but I didn’t want gentle. I needed more.
I set the glass aside. “I don’t want more wine. I want you.”
Before I finished the sentence, he swept me into his arms and was carrying me down the hall. I threw my arms around his neck.
