Maria reached out, trying to take his hand. Rod yelled at her. “No, you’re in league with the Zon!”
“No, I’m not. I’m Maria,” she said soothingly. “And you are Rod. We like to rock climb, watch James Bond movies, and star gaze.”
Rod’s hand was sweaty. It shook like a ninety-year-old man’s. And it was warm. Warmer than normal. Not sure how she missed it before, but his forehead was moist with perspiration.
As Maria spoke, Rod stared at her, confused at first. However, slowly a look of recognition crept into his face. “Maria?” he whispered.
“Yes, Rod?” she asked.
“Maria, something is wrong with me. I need help.”
Just then the door banged open and a second guard entered the room. “Okay, Looney Tunes,” he said to Rod, “your visiting time is up.”
Rod yanked his hand out of Maria’s, a look of panic in his eyes. “I can’t go back,” he yelled. “The Zon will get me!”
The guard covered his ears. “You gotta stop hollering, you hear?”
But Rod’s wails grew louder by the second. He swatted at the second guard who tried to make him stand up.
“I think he’s sick,” said Maria. She wrung her hands. “Could he see a doctor?”
“Ahhhhh!” Rod unsuccessfully tried to hit one of the guards who had pulled out his Taser. The officer pushed the device into Rod’s side. A loud clack sounded. Rod’s body jerked, and he fell to the floor. A burnt smell hung in the air.
“Stop it!” yelled Maria.
Rod had curled his legs into his chest and rocked on the floor in a fetal position. “Please no. Please no. Please no.” He repeated the plea over and over.
Maria dropped to the floor, suddenly realizing her fingernails were digging into her palms. She released her grip and tried to console Rod, rubbing his shoulder. His body shuddered at her touch, as if she were there to torture him, not trying to help.
Torture.
Maria’s thoughts betrayed her. Her mind returned to a time, a few years before, after a severe beating by one of the terrorist guards in her compound. She’d repeated the same words Rod was mumbling. She’d curled into herself on the cell floor. She’d begged for mercy.
Her mind swirled. Fallen comrades from her black ops team. They screamed at her from inside her head. Calling her a traitor. Disloyal. Maria looked down at the floor. She saw Rod’s look of desperation. He needed her now more than ever. Could she trust him? Did she have what it took to completely believe in him instead of choosing the easier, safer path of accusation?
Closing her eyes, Maria inhaled.
Deeply.
“Ma’am?”
Maria’s eyes popped open. The security guard was at her side, staring at her. “We need you to leave so we can deal with the prisoner. He has another bail hearing set for today, and we need to get him there.”
“He’s in no shape for a hearing.”
“That’s not my call. Can we have you exit through the door?”
“Yes. Give me a second.” Maria looked down at Rod. “You there?”
He turned his head. Eyes empty. Mouth in a grimace. Yes, the Taser had hurt him, but what showed on his face was terror, not just pain. She knew that look well.
“Rod, I’m going to get you out of here. You didn’t do it. I know that. But who do you think did? Which one of your friends would want to frame you for Dakota’s murder?”
He stared at her a second, nodded, and then whispered, “The Great Zon.”
***
Maria listened to Dr. Roberts’ entire voicemail message before leaving one of her own. The calmness in his voice felt safe and secure—like a mini therapy session in and of itself. When the psychologist’s voice finally stopped and the beep sounded, Maria tried to match his soft spoken demeanor. “Hi. Maria Branson here. Call me.” She was about to hang up but then added, “Pl-Please.” Her voice cracked. So much for pretenses.
Beth took her hand off the steering wheel and patted Maria’s knee. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Honestly,” Maria said, “I don’t think it is. Not this time. I’m telling you, Rod was out of his mind.”
As Beth drove the two of them back to Brian’s house, Maria recounted every detail of the conversation with Rod at the jail. “He was acting mental, going on about the Great Zon.”
Beth snorted, glancing in her rearview mirror and changing lanes. “Rod doesn’t even like online shopping. He asked me to order him something off of Amazon because he didn’t have Prime. I’m surprised he’s even heard of the ‘Great Zon.’”
“I know. At the end I realized Rod might be sick. He felt kinda hot. Maybe he has some fever-induced delirium.” Frowning, Maria picked up her phone and called Melissa. Nothing but voicemail.
Where was everyone?
Frustrated, she pulled a notebook from her backpack. “I need to think.” As Beth drove, Maria wrote down the names of everyone in Rod’s alumni group of friends. True, the murderer could be someone else, but she tended to agree with Melissa. What was the likelihood of a group of friends being in the Superstition Mountains, and, in that vast wilderness area, the six of them happening to find Dakota’s skeleton? Pretty slim. It had to have been orchestrated. But by whom?
Clyde had been the one who found the skeleton. Maria circled Derrick’s name. He owned Clyde. It would have been easy for Derrick to plant some random skeleton in the Superstitions and shown the dog where it was—so he could sniff it out during the hike. So far there was no solid proof the skeleton was Dakota’s. The head had conveniently been removed, leaving no teeth to match dental records. Sure, the bones were being analyzed, but most likely there was no DNA matter left since they had been exposed to the elements so long.
Maria definitely needed to get some feelers out about Derrick. However, the entire reunion had been Rep. Lankin’s idea, not Derrick’s. Maria circled Rod’s former professor’s name. Why would a man in the midst of trying to build up a political career ask a handful of former students to get together and go hiking in the Superstitions? Seemed odd.
Something else nagged at Maria. Almost without thinking, she circled Melissa’s name. The way the woman had jumped at the chance to defend Rod was almost … a little too anxious. Almost like she hadn’t wanted anyone else to have had the chance. What if Melissa had wanted to defend Rod so badly because she planned to throw the trial? Sure, she was a qualified lawyer, but was she trustworthy?
Speaking of trustworthy… Maria drew a line around Brian’s name. She trusted this guy as far as she could throw him or his mansion. Mr. Playboy. Women. Alcohol. Probably drugs. Who knew what he’d gotten himself messed up in? How far would he go to try and cover his mistakes? What about a mistake that may have involved him and Dakota?
Which brought up the subject of Tom.
A neurotic girlfriend/wife stealer. He liked unavailable women, and Dakota had definitely been unavailable. Tom had made a pass at Dakota on her wedding day. What if it had gone further than that? What if the two of them had been having an affair? Dakota might have told Tom she was going to come clean to Rod. Maybe Tom freaked out. Killed her to keep her quiet?
“What are you doing?” asked Beth.
Maria looked down at the ink rings she was drawing around Tom’s name. “I’m circling the suspects.”
Beth laughed. “Good to see you’ve narrowed it down. You’ve circled everybody’s name.”
Maria grimace. “Yeah, I guess I did.” She stared at the paper a moment longer. “But in my defense, they’re all weird.”
“I completely agree.” Beth sighed.
Maria joined her in an exasperated exhale of air. “What I can’t figure out is why now? Dakota died six years ago. Whoever killed her had gotten away with it. Why run the risk of resurrecting a cold case unless you wanted something like …”
“Money.” Beth finished Maria’s sentence. “I didn’t ever tell you this because … well because you’re weird about rich people and I didn’t want it to turn you off about Rod, but … h
e’s loaded.”
“I know. Melissa told me,” said Maria. “I felt pretty stupid to admit that as his girlfriend I had no—”
“Wow,” Beth interrupted. “You are making progress. You called yourself his girlfriend. That’s new.”
“It is not.” Maria waved her hand in the air, as if trying to magically remove the goofy smile off of Beth’s face. “I’ve been calling myself that for … days. Well, except for when he was arrested.”
Beth was clearly amused. She cranked the air conditioner all the way up. Phoenix air seemed to get hotter by the second. “Well, Maria Branson, a.k.a. Rod’s girlfriend, what did Melissa say about your boyfriend’s money?”
“Wait.” Maria held up her hand. “I’m fine to call myself his girlfriend. But that does not mean you can call Rod my boyfriend. That’s a whole different situation. And, if I remember correctly, Melissa used the term ‘Thorton Empire’ to describe his wealth.”
“Empire? Well that’s a bit overkill. But … it’s pretty close.” Beth stared ahead, paying attention to the road as she spoke. “But if someone wanted Rod’s money, why bring Dakota’s death into it? I keep thinking the timing of all of this must be a clue.”
“You’re right.” Maria tapped her pen on the notepad. “What’s going on right now in Rod’s life that would make someone want to dredge up Dakota’s death? What’s changed from, say, half a year ago?”
The minute she said it, she already knew the answer.
It was her.
She was what was different. There had been no Maria Branson in Rod’s life six months ago.
“It’s got to be you.” Beth tapped her fingernails on the steering wheel. “You’re what’s different. You’re with Rod. And he likes you. A lot. More than he tells you.”
“How do you know?” Maria sat up straighter.
“Because,” Beth said matter-of-factly, “Rod comes to me for advice. And haircuts. Have you noticed how short his hair is all the time?”
“What has he told you?” asked Maria. “And why have you been holding out on me?”
“Because Rod knows you and he doesn’t want to freak you out. I don’t want to freak you out either. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to you, and I’m pretty sure you’ll both find some way to completely mess it up unless I … help you two out. I told Rod the slower he moves the better. You won’t get jumpy that way.”
“Jumpy? What’s that supposed to mean?” Maria’s cheeks flushed slightly.
“Oh come on. Don’t make me spell it out for you. You have issues. If Rod started to bring up the ‘M-word’ you’d be out of Kanab in an instant.”
M-word?
A bowling ball dropped into Maria’s gut.
Marriage.
“When did he talk to you about m-mar-r-riage?” Maria stumbled on the last few syllables.
“A week or two ago. He’s not ready, don’t worry. But he’s thinking about it … or at least he was thinking about it. He said he’d never felt so excited. So adventurous. So … at peace than when he was with you.”
Maria’s shoulders slumped. “Don’t.” She gnawed at her lower lip. “Don’t say anything else. It feels like a funeral service—all the things that could never be. At least not if Rod doesn’t get better, and not if I can’t figure out what really happened to Dakota.”
The two friends sat in silence as Beth navigated the city streets in Phoenix. At last she spoke. “I’m going to call Mrs. Tuttle at the Kanab library. I’ll let her know what’s going on. Maybe she could find something out about Dakota, or any of Rod’s classmates. Even Rep Lankin for that matter.”
Maria blew her nose—a distraction technique so Beth wouldn’t know that she’d been on the brink of crying. “That’s perfect. I’ll do some leg work here as well.”
“Agreed.” Beth’s voice was so reassuring.
What would Maria have done if her friend hadn’t come? “Beth?” she asked quietly, “do you think someone’s trying to kill Rod? Do you think they’ve made him sick on purpose? What if he doesn’t make it?”
The phone in Maria’s lap vibrated. She stared at it, almost not wanting to answer. The number came up “Unknown.”
What if it was bad news?
Beth pulled into the long driveway at Brian’s house. Maria took a deep breath and answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Maria, Dr. Roberts here.”
Maria exhaled. “Oh, hey doctor.” She couldn’t hide the strain in her voice.
“I’m glad I caught you. Is everything okay?” Dr. Roberts asked.
“Not really. I … have so much to explain. I don’t know where to start.” For some reason, talking to him made Maria want to cry all over again. What was her problem? She was acting like a little girl.
Beth stopped the car and engaged the parking brake. She kept the car running so the air conditioner still blew cold air. She sat quietly in the driver’s seat while Maria started at the beginning, more or less, and told Dr. Roberts what was going on. Beth didn’t make a noise but on occasion rubbed Maria’s shoulders when her emotions got hard to control.
Steady. Loyal. Reliable Beth. Maria couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather have to get her through this.
“I don’t know what to think,” concluded Maria. “I really feel Rod’s not guilty. I think he’s being framed, but am I being naïve?”
Dr. Roberts cleared his throat. “I don’t know about Rod. I’ve never met the guy. But what I do know is that I’m rather amazed you haven’t already used this as an excuse to escape from the relationship. I think most people would have dropped him flat—including those without a fear of intimacy. I’m proud of you.”
“Well, it’s taken a few days and some encouragement from my friend.” Maria glanced at Beth and smiled. “But Rod’s not a killer. I know that. His friends, on the other hand, might be. At least I think so. I’m going to start investigating them. Do you have any insights about what I should look for in their backgrounds? Traits of a killer?”
“Maria,” Dr. Roberts said, “why are you asking me something you already know? Did you forget that I know your background? You know more about criminology than I do. You’ve investigated plenty of killers. What’s going on?”
“Because …” Maria trailed off. Why was she acting so helpless? “Because it’s Rod. It’s personal. I … I don’t know if I can trust myself.”
“You need to. This is what you do. I want you to think past the shock and reach deep. Find your logic center. Take a deep breath.”
Maria inhaled until her lungs about burst.
“Feeling grounded?” Dr. Roberts asked.
Maria released the air with a sigh. “A little bit.”
“Good.” Dr. Roberts gave a short cough. “Now, you tell me what you should look for.”
Dr. Robert’s confidence was like a shot of powerful neuro-stimulant. Maria’s sluggish mind shifted into gear, thoughts revving into action. “Typically,” she began, “there are two types of killers. The power junky, manipulating kind, or the surprising ‘Average Joe’ who lives a ‘wanna be life’ of importance. Among Rod’s friends are both kinds.”
“Excellent.” Dr. Roberts’ energy flowed through the phone. “What else?”
Maria words came more quickly, “Well, this kind of premeditated murder—and ensuing framing of Rod, would call for someone in the normal to bright range. Statistics show he or she would come from an unstable or dysfunctional family.” Maria hardly stopped to take a breath. “Of course, there’s the cliché ‘controlling mother theory,’ but I’ve never ascribed to that one much.”
Dr. Roberts grunted. “Me neither. I think that would make everyone a murder suspect.”
“I’m guessing the person has an issue with outbursts of anger and poor judgement, though I’ve never really considered that a trait either. Seems pretty obvious—you kill someone, you have bad judgement.”
Beth snickered and then bowed her head repentantly.
“I am positive
the person involved with this can’t take criticism. He or she has delusions of grandeur, but then falls into self-degradation. You know the kind.”
“I hate to point out the obvious,” said Beth, “but you could have described any of Rod’s friends.”
Maria nodded. “True, but I’m going to watch more closely. Egotistical bragging or self-degradation—both are red flags. My biggest tip off will be when I can pinpoint motive. That will shed light on the situation.”
“I completely agree,” Dr. Roberts said. “Maria, you’ve got this. It doesn’t matter that it’s personal. This is what you do. This is your specialty. Don’t wait for the police to do something—you’ve never been one to sit around. If you do, the anxiety will drive you mad. Take this case head on and own it. I’m proud of you. Keep me posted.”
“I will.” Maria hung up the phone, and Beth turned off the car.
“That didn’t take long. I wish all therapists worked that quickly.” Beth reached for her purse on the car floor.
“Yeah, well, he’s not paid from the CIA by the hour. It’s by the session. We tend to have fast ‘breakthroughs.’” Maria opened the passenger side door and was enveloped by a sumo-sized blanket of desert heat.
“So,” asked Beth as she got out of the car on the other side, “what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to start with the only lead we’ve got. Derrick and the Keepers. They didn’t want us in the mountains. It’s possible they sent someone to kill us for trespassing on the Superstitions. They don’t own the mountains, but they think they do. Maybe Dakota went against their ‘directives’ as well six years ago.”
“Good idea,” said Beth. “Give me a half hour to check in with my kids and see how they’re doing. Then, let’s make a plan.”
Make a plan. That had been her favorite phrase as a kid. Her dad always teased her that the world would stop turning if she didn’t have a plan. Something was always going on in her mind. He said it was what kept “balance” in the universe.
If there was one thing she needed, it was a little balance. She was sick of having things feel helter-skelter, which they had since the minute she’d arrived in Arizona.
Skeletons Among Us: Legends of Treasure Book 2 Page 12
