Vanished in the Mountains

by Tanya Stowe

  “We don’t have time for sightseeing. We need to get going on that trail. Dark comes early to the canyon.” His words sounded gruffer than he meant, but maybe it was best that way. Dulcie would be safer.

  * * *

  Austin started for the trail, leaving Dulcie standing alone on the edge. She trembled at the full realization of the threat facing her. Her senses, every nerve in her body weakened.

  Joey had threatened her, pushed her against the wall intending to trap her so he could hand her over to the violent men of the ring. The feeling of powerlessness he’d ignited inside her washed through her again. She felt trapped, suffocated...powerless...and now...the man who had made her feel helpless was dead...probably murdered by the very men who were his partners.

  Austin’s words echoed in her mind. The decision is up to you.

  Up to her. She had choices...options. She was not a trapped little girl, powerless to take action or even move. Her gaze darted to Austin as his tall form took the trail. He seemed full of strength and purpose. She could have kissed him for the courage he gave her. Instead, she took another long, deep breath and followed him.

  Dulcie concentrated on moving one foot after the other. She felt awkward and weak at first, but soon, her body found a rhythm. The exercise felt good. Stress and fear poured out of her and into the ground with each pound of her foot on the dusty trail. Soon the path narrowed and they walked along bluffs of sandstone. Large red boulders dotted the sides of the trail and piñon trees and evergreens sent the smell of pine into the air.

  Soon, she felt stronger and maybe even peaceful. Yes, men were chasing her. Yes, other women were in danger...and maybe lost forever. Those were realities. But she felt guided, purposeful and she owed it all to the man in the cowboy hat and dusty boots leading the way.

  Matching him stride for stride, seeing an outcropping or a bird darting across the sky, she’d turn to see Austin noticing the same thing. They saw things, enjoyed the small delights of nature in the same way. This walk along the trail—being with him—gave her a sense of companionship she’d only known with her mother and sister. It was unique and thrilling. What would it be like to see the Grand Canyon with him, or the red rocks of Sedona? She could think of a myriad of trips she would enjoy sharing with him. He’d called her his girl. If only...

  Dulcie almost stumbled over her own feet as surprise washed over. In her life, there’d never really been an “if only” moment with a man. Of course, she’d hoped for moments like this, but with most men, she’d always found herself tensing up, closing in on herself. The second they raised their voices, all her old fears flooded in and any burgeoning relationship would end. She’d had those moments with Austin too, especially in the beginning. But now that she knew him better, those moments came farther and farther apart. So many other things about him gave her peace... The concern he tried to hide for the missing girls. The respect he had for her gave her confidence and she felt herself unfolding like a flowering bloom. It was an unexpected blessing and she thanked the Lord as they hiked down the trail.

  They passed through two tunnels carved into the rock and finally came to a flat area. Off the path, tucked around an outcropping of rock, Dulcie glimpsed the edge of a round, wooden structure. A sign along the dirt trail leading to the hogan commanded them to respect the privacy of the occupant.

  “This is it.” Austin stepped onto the path leading to the home.

  Dulcie scooted to catch up with him. “Are you sure? The signs are very clear about not trespassing.”

  “This is the only hogan on the trail. It has to be the right one.”

  Around the corner, the outcropping of buff-colored rocks concealed more flat land with small corrals and pens. A Navajo woman crossed from the hogan to a trough with a metal bucket in her hand. A black-and-brown dog trotted by her side. Sheep in the small pen headed for the trough when they saw her coming. Dulcie smiled. The woman’s animals knew her and responded, an action Dulcie didn’t expect to see from sheep.

  The woman wore traditional clothing, a full-length skirt that looked like dark blue velvet. A long-sleeved blouse of the same material. And a silver concha belt was looped around her tiny waist. Her silver hair was tied in a traditional Navajo bun. As they drew closer, Dulcie realized the woman was much older than she’d first thought. Susan’s grandmother didn’t look strong enough to carry the heavy bucket of water. Her face was long and weathered from days in the sun, but her features wore a serene expression Dulcie would not forget for a long time. There was such peace in that expression. She longed for that kind of peace.

  “Ya ta he.” Austin called out the greeting.

  The woman turned. She was neither startled nor frightened by their presence, but she tilted her head and squinted her eyes, trying to see them clearly.

  “Ma’am, my name is Austin Turner and this is Dulcie Parker. I’m a deputy from the La Plata sheriff’s department. We’d like to talk to you about your granddaughter.”

  “So, you have found her?” The woman’s voice was low and raspy. It took both Austin and Dulcie a moment to understand her. When they did, they glanced at each other.

  “No, ma’am. We weren’t sure she was missing.”

  “She has been gone two months but my nephew was on a long trip. When he came back, I told him to go to the men at that place...that tribal police. They said they would make a report.”

  Dulcie and Austin shared another glance. If a report was generated, Officer Shaw obviously had done his work and suppressed it. Austin shrugged. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t receive the report, but I’d like to help you find her.”

  She studied him, then looked past him to Dulcie. Finally, she nodded. “Come. We will have coffee.”

  Heading toward the hogan, she never looked back.

  Dulcie grabbed Austin’s arm. “We don’t have time for coffee. You said we had to get in and out before someone has a chance to follow us.”

  “We don’t have a choice. It would be disrespectful not to take the offer now that she’s made it. If we want the information, then we will drink coffee.”

  Dulcie followed him but couldn’t help but glance back at the trail and up the cliff’s face. The path was empty, and that took some of the edginess off her nerves.

  A small table with chairs stood just outside the hogan. The woman had already returned from inside with three mugs and an old-fashioned metal coffeepot. Steam poured out of the spout into the cool air. The smell drifted toward Dulcie, roasted and rich and more appealing than she would have imagined. They settled at the table and Bea Yazzie poured.

  Austin engaged the older woman by asking if she used the wool of her sheep for weaving. She answered yes, and they chatted for a while about her Navajo sheep and the natural dyes she used for their soft wool.

  “I use my grandmother’s loom. It’s very old. Even older than me.” Her dark eyes twinkled and Dulcie found herself warming to the woman. Austin deftly and gently brought the conversation back to her missing granddaughter. Dulcie noted that although she didn’t refer to Susan by name, she didn’t speak of her as if she was already gone.

  But Doris Begay had referred to Susan as a Missing One. What did she know that the rest of them didn’t?

  According to Susan’s grandmother she had been missing since the night of Judy’s murder. Bea Yazzie had thought her granddaughter was living with a friend, but since she had no cell phone, she had to wait to call Susan until her nephew returned.

  “I knew she was in trouble. My granddaughter, she always talks about Doris Begay’s man. He is a bad father. I told my granddaughter...both girls, you come live with me in the canyon. Stay away from that bad man. But they wouldn’t come. Now look what happened.” She shook her head. “Young people today want all the wrong things. Those girls want to look like movie stars. They always worry about makeup and clothes and go to that drinking place to show off.”

&n
bsp; Across the table, Austin tensed. “What drinking place?”

  “That one, just off the reservation. You know, John Whitehorse’s place.”

  “You mean The Round Up?”

  She nodded. “That place is no good...no good for no one. Not men, and for sure, not young girls.”

  Austin asked her a few more questions, about other friends of Susan’s he could contact, other places she frequented. But the young woman lived in Durango and only visited occasionally. Her grandmother knew little about her life in the city. Austin seemed eager to leave now, more than anxious. He thanked the woman many times but rose firmly. “It’s getting late. We must leave the canyon before dark.”

  The older woman nodded. She studied his face and looked deep into his eyes. “Yes, you are the one. You will find my granddaughter.”

  He gave a shake of his head. “I will do my best. But I can’t make any promises.”

  The old woman nodded once more. “You will find her.”

  Austin rose and strode toward the trail. Dulcie said goodbye and followed him. He inspired good feelings in all women, not just herself. But that fact didn’t seem to please him. He hurried up the trail and Dulcie was hard-pressed to keep up. Almost out of breath she said, “Are you taking my dare seriously? Are we racing up the trail?”

  He paused and turned back to her, his features set and hard. “I made a mistake. I was so anxious to get to the truth, I was overconfident. I should have known better...thought it through.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I should have known Whitehorse is involved. He’s got a hand in every crime racket in the Four Corners states.” He started up the trail again.

  “So? That just gives us someone else to investigate.”

  “You heard Bea. Whitehorse’s place is where vulnerable women go to get noticed. Only it’s probably not the kind of notice they’re looking for. Whitehorse also has the right men, the kind who can muscle a girl into a truck and transport her.”

  Dulcie halted. “You’re saying you think Whitehorse is the leader of the gang.”

  Austin kept his gaze on the trail and hurried forward. Dusk was slipping into the canyon very rapidly and the trail was disappearing. Another few moments and the cliff walls would block all light. A chill came with it, settling over them with a gloom that went deeper than a simple setting of the sun.

  “I don’t know if he’s the leader. He has the muscle, but I doubt he has the means to contact a buyer on an open market. That would take someone with a little more national or international exposure.”

  She hurried to catch up. “Someone like DA Havlicek or Kent Pierce.”

  “Yeah. Exactly like those two, but which one? And most important of all, how do we prove it? We haven’t pulled up one single piece of evidence except Delacroix’s fingerprint on your threatening letter and he’s already been eliminated.”

  Out of breath, she halted. “It also doesn’t explain why we’re running up the canyon wall.”

  Austin paused long enough to grab her hand and pull her forward. “I told you—I took the wrong chance. I assumed we could beat the people looking for you out of the canyon but I was wrong. Doris Begay is terrified of someone, and now, I’m pretty sure that someone is Johnny Whitehorse. When she made that call, it was probably to him and his place is only an hour away. His men might be on their way or already here.”

  Dulcie’s heart skipped a beat and she stumbled behind him but Austin didn’t let up his pace. He marched ahead, climbing so fast Dulcie’s legs and lungs burned. They passed through the first near dark tunnel. Then climbed past the piñon pines to the second tunnel where Dulcie pulled her hand loose and stopped. Her lungs were on fire and she needed to stop for a moment to catch her breath.

  Austin halted too. In that moment, they heard voices. Two men talking quietly, their footsteps scattering rocks as they made the descent on the other side of the tunnel.

  Dulcie stared at Austin, wide-eyed, her heart pounding when they both heard one man say her name. It echoed through the tunnel, muted, but clear enough to understand. They were here for her. Without another word, Austin grabbed her hand again and bolted back down the trail.

  SIX

  Fool! Idiot! Stupid!

  Austin called himself names as he pulled Dulcie down the narrow trail. How could he have been so foolish? He should have known Whitehorse would be involved in an operation this big. When Dulcie saw Doris Begay on the phone in her trailer, he should have escorted Dulcie back to a place of safety. Now she and Susan’s grandmother were in danger. Not only did he have to get Dulcie away from the men behind them, but he had to make sure they didn’t make a stop at the Yazzie hogan.

  Darkness was looming. Shadows made the trail difficult to see. They came to the second tunnel and Austin had to use the light on the cell phone to get them through. It was a beacon for the men above them to follow, but it was better than tripping and falling.

  How many voices had he heard? At least two distinct ones but there could be other silent men with them. Could he hold off two or more men on his own? He had his service revolver but no way could he afford bullets flying everywhere. Dulcie could be hurt. Better to get to the canyon floor where they could hide in the myriad of curves and pitch-black crevices of the cliffs. Then they could find another way out of the canyon trail. But first...they had to get past the Yazzie hogan. The last thing he wanted was for the men to harm Susan’s grandmother.

  They came out of the tunnel and he switched off the light. At this section of the trail, piñon trees covered each side, hiding them from view. Just ahead was the turnoff trail to the hogan. A rocky abutment hid the home but a wide-open space between the trail and rocks was clearly visible from the trail above. He wanted to make sure the men following them saw and knew that they didn’t take the path leading to the Yazzie place. He would need to time it carefully so the men could see that he and Dulcie had run down to the canyon floor.

  Just as they hit the open space, Austin pushed Dulcie ahead. “Keep going. Don’t stop. I’ll catch up.”

  “Why...”

  “No questions, Dulcie, just get going!”

  She spun and ran to the next turn in the trail, out of his view. Austin scanned the face of the cliff. Two dark figures emerged from the tunnel. Good. Only two men. And their exit out of the tunnel was perfect timing. He could see their excited hand gestures in the gloomy darkness.

  They saw him. Suddenly...one man pointed. There was something in his hand. A shot reverberated through the canyon. A bullet pinged off the ground ten feet away from Austin, followed by angry words echoing in the canyon. One man wasn’t pleased his partner had fired. Austin didn’t wait to see which of the men had the gun. Spinning, he followed Dulcie down the trail.

  So, the men were definitely armed. That confirmed his suspicions. He couldn’t risk Dulcie getting caught in the crossfire. Nor could he risk getting trapped in a rocky culvert with no way out. He knew there were other trails out of the canyon, but he didn’t know where they were and would probably miss them in the dark. Somewhere down the canyon someone might have an ATV or a means of transportation, but they could be miles away and asking for their help would put those people at risk. Chances were most canyon residents had already left for their winter homes. Very few of the families were like Bea Yazzie, who was set in her ways and lived in the canyon all year long. That left only one place they could hide where they would have an exit.

  The ancient ruins. Austin hated the thought of possible damage to the ruins but if it meant saving Dulcie, he would do it.

  For years, he’d assisted a friend with the yearly inspection of the ruins and had explored them up close. There were two levels, a ground floor and another level resting on a ledge high above the bottom. The ground floor had a tower with multiple levels. It was too damaged to climb, but there were many rooms on the floor level and even a niche deep at the
back, beneath the massive bluff. If necessary, he could tuck Dulcie in that crevice and lead the men away. Besides, if the men had to search each small cubby room in the ruins, that would give Dulcie and Austin time to get out and head back up the trail. Hiding in the ruins was their best option.

  He came around a corner and almost ran into Dulcie coming back up the path. “I told you not to stop.”

  “I heard the shot. I thought you might be hurt.”

  “Everyone for a mile in both directions heard the shot. Let’s hope one of them has the means to get help.” Grabbing her elbow, he hurried her back down the path.

  “Do you think those men would hurt Susan’s grandmother?”

  “If one of those men is Walter Benally—he would hurt his own grandmother if there was money involved.” His words came out in a low tone. They reached another bend in the trail below with a view of the front of the hogan. It was silent and dark, as if no one was there. Even the sheep had moved into the corral beneath the ramshackle covering against the rock wall. “I think Bea is used to taking care of herself. Besides, I made sure they saw me. My guess is they’re more intent on getting their hands on you.”

  At least that’s my hope. He glanced one more time at the hogan and sent up a prayer for the old woman’s safety...and theirs.

  The trail flattened out. Piñon pines gave way to tamarisk and olive trees—non-native, invasive trees taking over the park and most of the Southwest. Right now, Austin was thankful for their coverage. They came to the flat, sandy wash of the riverbed. The snowstorm had blanketed the mountains but had not yet reached the desert, so the wash was dry. Across the streambed, a wire fence surrounded the ruins, blocking them off from trespassers. With a glance at the cloud-filled, moonless sky and the cliff above, Austin led Dulcie from bush to bush, hiding and darting to avoid being seen. At last they made it to the other side. He followed the fence to the rock cliff where it ended with massive wooden posts. Gripping the fence, he climbed over.