Desert Heat

by D'Ann Lindun

  “What’s going on?” Mike asked.

  Brent turned the raft. “Look. The bastards have been here, too.” The float had a split all along the side. Every single one is the same.”

  “Let me see.” With a sinking heart, Mike examined the twenty or so rafts. They weren’t cheap, and not a single one was repairable. He prayed insurance would cover the cost of replacing them. “This is exactly what Ryan Balderson told me happened at River Adventures.”

  “Yeah. The SRPL got to him when he didn’t close down when the judge ordered him to,” Brent said. He looked green.

  “What sicced them on us?” Mike ran a hand through his hair. “Ryan made them mad when he didn’t do what he was supposed to, but we’ve done everything we were told.”

  “Maybe it was Wendell Wallace’s murder. Maybe they think one of us did it,” Brent suggested. He came to his feet. “I don’t know.”

  “What’s next?” Mike looked around. “How long have you been here? Are the horses secure? What about the tack?”

  “I just got here a minute or so before you did. I’m sure the horses are fine,” Brent said. “But I didn’t look at them yet, and I didn’t think to search the tack room. I probably just missed the bastards.”

  “Maybe they were already there,” Mallory reminded him. “And stuck the cactus under Zorro’s saddle blanket. Maybe that wasn’t meant for me. Suppose they did it just for vandalism’s sake and I was the unlucky person who picked up that particular pad.”

  “The cinch was cut, too.” Mike hated thinking about her being bucked off. “Maybe it’s time to turn the tables and I need to call Sheriff Bodine and talk to him about this. First, I’m going to take a look at the rest of the tack and make sure there’s no more surprises.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Brent said. “By the way, what did you do to piss off Di? I saw her stomp over to Shelby’s and they had a big pow-wow out in the yard for awhile.”

  “I kissed Mallory and Dianna saw.” Mike didn’t need to explain further. Dianna had worn her heart on her sleeve; the others knew how she felt.

  “Oh man.” Brent shot a glance at Mallory. “That had to burn.”

  “Yeah,” Mike said. “I didn’t want to hurt Dianna’s feelings. But it’s better she knows how I feel now than keep hoping for something that isn’t going to happen.”

  “You never led her on,” Brent agreed. “But you love who you love.” He grinned at Mallory. “And you found a great girl.”

  Mallory smiled back. “Thanks.”

  “That reminds me, we actually came down here to ask you some questions about insulin,” Mike said. “Can she talk to you while I call the sheriff?”

  Brent looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, uh, I guess so.”

  Mike took his cell phone from his pocket and dialed. A secretary told him Bodine was in the field and would call back later. He put the phone back and listened to Mallory ask Brent a question.

  “Why would someone have a high level of insulin in their body if they weren’t diabetic?”

  “They probably weren’t diagnosed,” he said flatly.

  Mallory looked at Mike with despair. He jumped in. “Are you saying that someone couldn’t live with a high amount of insulin in their system?”

  “Depends on how high.” Brent looked between them, but fixed his gaze on Mallory. “Why all the questions? You checking up on me?”

  “No, I—”

  “Was just worried,” Mike said smoothly. “I told her you’re fine. That you know how to take care of yourself.”

  “You bet I do.” Brent glared at her. “And I thought you were going to keep things to yourself.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know that much about diabetes or insulin and I just wanted to make sure I could help you if you ever needed it.”

  His glare softened. “Okay. Don’t worry about me. I’m great. If that’s all the questions, I’m going to go and make a report about this,” he waved at the ruined rafts, “for insurance.”

  “One more thing,” Mike said. “Where were you when you saw Di and Shelby talking?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  Mike tried to look nonchalant. “I just wondered what was said.”

  “I was standing at my kitchen window. I saw them in Di’s front yard. They didn’t go inside, just stood talking. And no, I didn’t hear their conversation.” He turned away. “I’m out of here.”

  “Okay.” Mike watched him go.

  Mallory turned toward him. “What was that all about? Why didn’t you want him to know about Skeeter?”

  “Just thinking out loud.”

  “I’m not following your train of thought,” she admitted. “Where are you going with this?”

  “I want to hear what the coroner says,” he said. “I want to hear what she rules out. And I want to know if Skeeter suddenly developed diabetes at his age and didn’t know it. That would explain his illness, the reason he lapsed into a coma. I thought he had the flu. Maybe it was something else.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. “You had no way to know.”

  “I should’ve checked on him sooner. I knew he wasn’t feeling well, but I thought he wanted to be left alone to rest. That was the case when he showed up here any other time.”

  “You did the right thing.” She squeezed his arm.

  “I’m not so sure.” He put his hand over hers. “I’m sorry Skeeter died like that.”

  “If he hadn’t been here, what would’ve happened to him? He might’ve died all alone out in the desert.” She looked at the mountains. “We might never have found him or Nobody. It would have been terrible. The way he went, here where someone could watch over him, was better.”

  He opened his mouth to reply when Sheriff Bodine pulled up next to them and leaned out the window. “I hear you’ve had a little more trouble. I was down at the site where we found our DB when the call came in. I came up to find out what’s going on?”

  “I’ve been vandalized,” Mike said. “Come see.”

  Bodine turned off the engine and got out. “Where? Show me.”

  They walked into the raft office.

  He whistled. “You’re a real popular fellow, aren’t you?”

  Mike didn’t answer that, but said, “The same thing happened to my buddy up at River Adventures. The SRPL did it. They caught the guy red handed, and his is exactly the same kind of thing.”

  “Did you see anyone around?” Bodine reached for his notebook.

  “No. Mallory and I were inside.” About to make love.

  “Anybody else out here?”

  “Brent, Dianna, and Shelby.” Mike reluctantly listed his friends. How much more of this would they be willing to take? They’d already gone above and beyond for him.

  “Get them.” Bodine shut his notebook and stuffed it in his pocket.

  Mike took his cell phone out and dialed each and asked them to come to the raft office.

  Brent appeared first. “What can I tell you?”

  The sheriff took him by the elbow. “Let’s move over here and talk.”

  Dianna and Shelby joined them. Shelby looked around at the ruined rafts. “What’s going on?”

  “Vandals. Probably our friends at the SRPL. He’s making a report.” Mike gestured toward the sheriff.

  “Why now?” Shelby’s voice rose in dismay.

  “I don’t know.”

  Dianna kicked one of the ruined floats. “I’d like to tear their heads off.”

  “Me, too,” Mike said, “but we can’t do anything until we find out who did this.”

  “We know who did it,” Dianna declared hotly. Her short hair almost stood on end.

  Mike corrected her. “We think we do anyway.”

  Brent joined them. “The sheriff wants to talk to you, Shelby.”

  She walked away.

  “What did he say?” Dianna stuck her hands under her armpits and glared.

  “Nothing much. Wanted to know if I’d
seen or heard anything. I didn’t, so I wasn’t much help.” He directed his attention to Mike. “I don’t think we’re going to find anyone. The sheriff said he’d run prints, but I bet there’s nothing to go on.”

  “What makes you say that?” Mike had a moment’s confusion. “Do you think the vandals wore gloves?”

  “Probably,” Brent said. “Even though we all know who did it. But proving it is going to be hard. They’ve got the law and the judge on their side because they have political clout.”

  Mike refused to believe it. “Bodine seems honest.”

  Dianna snorted. “Maybe.”

  The man in question motioned for her to come. Her lips turned down and she rolled her eyes, then did as requested.

  Brent shuffled his feet, and stuffed his hands deep in his pockets. He spoke in a low tone. “Mike, do you think Di would do something rotten out of jealousy?”

  “What do you mean?” Mike wasn’t going to go down this path.

  “Don’t make me spell it out, man. You know what I’m asking.” Brent looked like he might cry.

  Mike dug in his heels. “No way. No how.” There was no way Dianna had done this because she was mad.

  “Look, we all know she’s got a temper. And she’s been in love with you forever.” Brent looked toward the two women and the sheriff. “And, Mike, I don’t want to say this. We’ve all been friends for a long, long time, but there wasn’t anyone else around. I checked the rafts last night after I was in the kitchen, then again this morning. There wasn’t anything wrong with them.”

  “Dianna wouldn’t do that.” Mike held his ground. There was no way his friend would turn on him. She knew what it would do to their friendship. He might not feel the way she wanted him to feel, but she wouldn’t react like a maniac. He was certain of it.

  Bodine and the two women walked over. “I’m going to dust for prints,” he said. “But, according to these two, there’s going to be hundreds of samples.”

  “Yeah, we have a lot of guests who go in and out.” Mike studied Dianna. She looked the same as she had for the last ten years. Like one of his closest friends.

  Bodine nodded and retrieved a kit from the car, then stepped into the building.

  They stood silent until he returned. “I’ll be in touch.”

  As he drove away, Mike said, “I hope he catches the creeps before I do.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mallory waited until Mike was busy with calls to the insurance adjuster, then scribbled a note and snuck out of the lodge. Something about the petroglyphs she’d seen on the rock nagged at her. She wasn’t sure what, but they kept calling to her and she wanted to look at them again.

  After double checking to make sure that the saddle, blanket, and bridle were free of any oddities, she caught and tacked up Zorro. Petting his nose, she told him, “You be good. I don’t want to hurt my fingers again.”

  She swung up on his back and guided him toward the gate. As she passed the signs, she glanced around, but nobody seemed to be lurking. Mike had told her not to stray off the ranch, but she didn’t think going to the Indian artwork would be a problem. They were on his land, not public property.

  She knew the way and made good time. The afternoon sunshine felt good on her face and arms. The tension in her back lessened as the horse walked along in a calm, normal manner. As she neared the site where she’d seen the Jeep, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Urging the horse to trot, she held on with both hands on the saddle horn and gripped his warm sides with her knees, but he didn’t blink an eye and they passed the spot in a heartbeat.

  She reined him up the winding dirt road.

  At the boulders overlooking the ranch, she dismounted and tied Zorro to a palo verde branch. She gave his neck a quick pat and turned to admire the view. Sitting back on her heels, she studied the land. No one seemed to be around on the ranch, so she lifted her face and looked into the distance. Even the brown cloud over Phoenix was less today. The Superstitions looked like rolling green hills, thanks to the rain. From here she could almost see to Mexico. She noticed Canyon Lake in the distance and where Tortilla Flat should be, but she couldn’t see it from here.

  Nothing jumped out at her, so she stood and moved to the rock with the Native American drawings. Tracing her fingers over the rough surface of the rock, she didn’t see anything she knew. A stick figure looked like a man, and another figure might’ve been a horse or a mule. But she wasn’t sure. Some symbols resembled letters, but she didn’t read Apache or whatever language they were written in.

  Closing her eyes, she traced the marks again.

  Her fingers slid over rough granite, but nothing struck her.

  Something here had drawn her back, but what? Just the mystique of the characters? No, it was more. She opened her eyes and stepped back.

  Then she saw it.

  The horse figure was on a trail.

  Tiny scratches—hoof prints—that led nowhere.

  Taking a closer look, she saw the horse stood upon a range of mountains that resembled the Superstitions. Heart racing, she turned and searched the horizon directly across from her. Yes, the exact location. Turning back, she searched the rock for another landmark. A single mark might’ve been Weaver’s Needle. She peered into the horizon, trying to remember if Mike had pointed that way. Yes.

  One by one, she found other landmarks.

  This boulder was an American Indian map.

  It exactly matched the map Skeeter had.

  Stepping back, she squatted down and drew the same map in the sand. The hoofprints were the missing clue. A short way across, they stopped. She nearly pressed her nose into the rock, trying to see where they led, but couldn’t find the rest. Time or the weather had worn them off. Certain the missing mine was there, she continued to stare at the stone until her head ached.Mixed emotions filled her. Elation that Skeeter had been right warred with sadness that he hadn’t succeeded. Tears filled her eyes and fell down her cheeks and she made no move to wipe them away. She cried for her father, for herself.

  She hadn’t vindicated him yet. She still didn’t know where the mine was.

  Mike would.

  Almost running, she untied Zorro and jumped on him.

  ~*~

  Mallory shifted impatiently as Mike stood in front of the boulder and studied it. “Do you see it?”

  He nodded slowly and ran his fingers over the images much like she had. “Yes. There’s the Superstitions. And the ranch would be here. Yes, this is the same map.”

  “I knew it.” She beamed. “Now, if we can just find out where these tracks lead. The mine or gold or treasure will be there.”

  “I know where they lead.” He turned toward her with a wide smile. He pointed to the right side of the rock. “See there? The part of the map was ripped off. I thought it was torn from just ordinary wear and tear. But now I think Skeeter tore it off to hide the location.”

  Mallory’s excitement faded. “Then we’re no closer.”

  “Oh, but we are.” He smoothed his finger over the hoof prints. “See how they stop? That’s where the treasure is.”

  Mallory laughed. “Do you know what this means?”

  “I sure do.” He picked her up and swung her in a circle. “It means your old man wasn’t crazy. And if we’re really lucky, you’ll be a wealthy woman.”

  Laughter bubbled out of her. “You mean we’ll be wealthy, don’t you?”

  “It’s yours,” he said and set her down.

  “No, it’s ours.” She moved to the horses. “But it’s neither one of ours until we find it. So let’s get cracking.”

  “We can’t.” His words stopped her in her tracks.

  “What?” She spun around. “Why not?”

  “It’s on public land. I can’t be out there.” He rubbed his neck. “I can’t risk it.”

  All her joy evaporated. “Oh, Mike. No.”

  “I can’t take the chance. I already have too many problems with the SRPL. If they caught me digging
up public lands, they’d crucify me. I just can’t do it.”

  Mallory put her hands on her hip. “Maybe not, but I can.”

  “What are you saying?” He waved his hand toward the horizon. “Do you have any idea how big that area is? I think I know where the treasure is, but I can’t be sure. You can’t go traipsing around out there without a guide. It’s too dangerous.”

  “We can’t give up.” Her stomach knotted. There had to be a way to find the treasure without bringing down the wrath of the SRPL. But how? She paced a few feet, then turned around and came back. “Mike, what if you drew me another map, this one with the missing edge? I can go alone. I’m used to be being in the desert. If the environmentalists see me, I can pretend to be just a person walking in the desert.”

  “It’s not safe.” He crossed his arms.

  “This is the best we’ve got. I won’t take chances. Promise.” Although her nerves were jumping under her skin, she smiled at him. “I can do this.”

  “I don’t like it.” He jutted out his jaw.

  “Where do you think it is? Near Goldfield or Tortilla Flat? If it’s close to one of the towns, you could go there and wait for me. That way you wouldn’t be so far away.”

  He considered her. She waited for him to think about it. Finally he said, “I guess it’s worth a try.”

  ~*~

  Mallory glanced at Mike. His jaw was set and he stared at the road, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. She knew he hated the idea of her going into the desert alone. But she’d prepared well, and she’d been on dozens of trips in the Nevada wilderness with small groups. On those trips, she’d been in charge and she knew how to think ahead. She leaned forward and checked her backpack again. Four liters of water, high-protein snack bars, a two-way radio, her flashlight. A small shovel. A thin, hundred foot rope and a small first-aid kit. Also, her jacket and a light blanket.

  “Let’s go over this again. I’ll drop you off by the road and drive on to Goldfield. I’ll wait there until six o’clock. If I haven’t heard from you by then, I’m coming to look for you.” Mike pierced her with his gaze. “What time does your watch say?”