Everything looked quiet. Nobody out in the yard or around the barn. Of course, he really didn’t expect to find little Hannah hiding out here. He already knew this dog and pony show was all being staged for his benefit. Still, he had to play along.
The day before, he’d called the preacher on his tapped phone to tell him, and whoever else was listening, that he was going to fly to Maine to follow up on the last known address of the little gal. Metcalf, as usual, started praying and calling on his Lord High God to bless Leroy’s endeavors with success. The cowboy rolled his eyes, kept his mouth shut, and hung up as soon as he could. Right after that, he headed for the airport.
Since Leroy knew he was being watched, he’d made a game of seeing if he could spot anybody tailing him. Sure enough, a car had stuck to him like glue all the way from his apartment to O’Hare. When he was about to get on the plane, he noticed a suspicious character standing against the wall reading a paper. The feller gave him the once over while Leroy was handing his boarding pass to the stewardess. He guessed that Somebody wanted to make sure he actually got on the plane.
The address he’d been given in Maine was so far out in the sticks that he had to rent a car at what passed for an airport and drive another seventy miles to get to it. He didn’t notice anybody following him now. It would have been too obvious since his was the only car on this back road. Nobody else for miles around even after he found the right farm and drove up the dirt driveway to the house.
As Leroy got out of his vehicle, he shivered at the chill in the air. He could even see his breath when he exhaled. Who in their right minds would live in a place where it started snowing in October and didn’t quit til May? His Southern blood congealed at the prospect.
He walked up the wooden front steps and knocked on the door which looked like it hadn’t seen a paintbrush in half a century. The cowboy guessed nobody but ghosts inhabited this house on a regular basis. It was a stage set like all the other places he’d visited lately. Also like the others, this particular stage set came complete with an actor—an old man in a flannel shirt and overalls who answered the door.
“Can I help you?” He squinted at Leroy in disbelief as if a visitor was an outlandish sight.
“Yes sir, I hope you can.” Leroy went into his own act. “I’m tryin’ to track down a friend of mine. Her name’s Rhonda. I hear tell that her daughter Hannah is stayin’ with you folks. Is that right?”
Old Macdonald scratched his head. “Well, she was here.”
Leroy pretended to look disappointed though that reply was exactly what he’d expected to hear. “But she ain’t here now?”
“Nope.”
The cowboy realized he was going to need to drag information out of the old coot, one fact at a time. “Do you know where she went?”
“Yup.”
Hunt ground his teeth. “Where exactly might that be?”
The man in flannel crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling. “Her aunt and uncle took her out west to get her signed up for school. Musta been last week sometime.”
“So you ain’t her uncle?” Leroy felt compelled to ask the question even though he already knew the answer.
“Nope.”
Before Leroy could continue, the man volunteered a fact all on his own.
“I’m watching the place til they get back. Cows still need to be milked, you know.”
“Yessir,” Leroy agreed. “They surely do. So how come Hannah’s people didn’t sign her up for school here?”
“Cause her mother wanted it that way,” the man replied. “She called and told them to bring the girl to a private school in Montana. Said she’d be safe there. I don’t know what that was all about. It’s already safe enough around here. This isn’t New York,” he huffed.
“Sure as shootin’ nobody would make that mistake,” the cowboy observed. “You happen to have the address of this Montana school? I might as well try to catch up with Hannah and her momma there.”
“Just a minute.” The old man left him waiting on the porch.
Leroy shook his head at the elaborate charade. The pair of them were doing a proper job of shining each other on. He comforted himself with the fact that the seventy-mile drive and this sham of a cross-examination weren’t wasted efforts. Before he left, he would get what he’d really come here for. The next address.
Old Macdonald returned and thrust a crumpled piece of paper into his hand. “The school’s in Billings. You want me to call ahead and let them know to expect you?”
“No sir,” Leroy protested. “I already put you to enough trouble. I can take it from here.”
“Alright then.” Without so much as a goodbye, the farmer turned his back and shut the door.
Now Leroy’s real investigation could begin.
***
Several hours later, Hunt sat on the bed in his airport motel room reviewing what he’d learned. He’d had to conduct his inquiries at close quarters. The hamlet where he was staying had more cows than people. He didn’t want to move about on foot and get noticed. As a result, he’d holed up in the motel and spent the afternoon calling various county offices on his burner phone in order to track down the real estate records of the farm he’d just visited. It came as no surprise to learn that the farm was a rental, just like the moving company office and the bungalow in Phoenix. It had only been leased a week before he showed up. Also like the other two properties, the tenant was a corporation. Because each of the three places had been rented under a different corporate name, it would take a little digging to figure out how they were all connected. More paper-shuffling. Leroy grimaced at the thought of the documents he’d need to comb through once he got back to Chicago.
He jumped slightly at the sound of his phone ringing. It was his tapped line. The preacher was calling.
“Mr. Hunt?”
“Howdie, Mr. Metcalf.”
“Well?” the old man demanded eagerly. “Did you find her?”
“It’s this way, boss. I got some good news and some bad news for you. The bad news is she ain’t in Maine. The good news is I only missed her by a week which means I’m closin’ in. It seems somebody bundled her off to Montana to go to school there. No need to fret. I got the address.”
“A school!” Metcalf echoed in a shocked tone. “The people who have her are trying to indoctrinate her in the ways of the Fallen?”
“Meanin’ no disrespect, boss, but unless the gal’s been holed up in a cave or some such, she’s been knee-deep in the ways of the Fallen for a while. Hard to imagine some of it not rubbin’ off on her by now.”
Hunt could hear a sharp gasp on the other end of the line. His comment had knocked the breath clean out of the old man. Apparently, it hadn’t occurred to the preacher that his Hannah had been polluted by the big, bad world for months now.
“You want me to fly out to Montana next?” Leroy asked half-heartedly. The prospect of frostbite in Billings didn’t appeal to him especially since he knew it was a fool’s errand and he already had enough leads to keep him busy for the time being.
“No...” the old man hesitated. “It seems unlikely she’ll be moved again during the next few months. We have more urgent business at hand.”
The change of direction took the cowboy by surprise. “Sir?”
“You need to prepare for a trip overseas.”
“So your boy’s ready to hit the road, is he?” Leroy assumed that Somebody would be interested in that bit of news as well. No doubt, the word would trickle down to Miss Cassie and Company that it was time for them to saddle up too.
“How quickly can you get back here?”
“I maybe could catch a plane early tomorrow. This airport don’t have but one flight a day that’ll get me back to Chicago.”
“Very well. Plan on leaving for India in two days. I’ll send a courier to your apartment with your instructions.”
“OK, boss. I’ll be ready.”
The line went dead.
Leroy realized he would have to hustle if he was going to fly back in time to make his travel connections. He almost welcomed the distraction of the relic hunt since his alternative was spending days in front of a computer trying to crack one shell corporation after another. The fact that he would jump at the chance to take an overseas trip with hangdog Daniel proved one thing. He’d go to any length to avoid paperwork.
Chapter 37—Doubleheader
Cassie yawned and rubbed her eyes. She raised the shade covering her airplane window and gazed out at the landscape below. They appeared to be flying over a wide valley now. “Kathmandu,” she murmured.
“What was that?” Griffin glanced up from the book he’d been reading.
“Kathmandu. I never get tired of saying it. I love the sound of that word.”
The scrivener peered at her. “We aren’t going to have an unfortunate repeat of the Psychro Cave episode, are we? As I recall, it took six months to dislodge that word from your head.”
“It could be eight months this time,” she replied impishly. “I’m getting really attached to it—Kathmandu.” She glanced out the window at the plateau of the same name. “And speaking of Kathmandu, I think it’s directly below us. We should be landing pretty soon.”
“Right then.” Griffin locked his tray table and stowed his book. “Our contacts will be meeting us at the terminal exit.”
“This all feels weird to me.” Cassie turned toward him earnestly. “Doesn’t it feel weird to you?”
“Any change in routine is bound to cause a feeling of disorientation,” he agreed cautiously.
“It was always the three of us. Like a waltz. One, two, three. One, two, three. And now the timing is off. It’s one, two, stumble. One, two, trip. One, two, crash.” She gave him a bleak smile.
He patted her arm consolingly. “Never fear. It will get better. We’re bound to establish a new cadence with Erik’s replacements.”
She sighed dubiously and leaned back. “I hope he’s alright.”
“I’m sure he’s fine though I don’t expect he’s sparing a thought for your welfare.” His voice held the slightest note of sarcasm.
“Why are guys so weird when they fall in love?”
“I beg your pardon.” Griffin stared at her sideways.
She swiveled around to face him. “Why is it when a girl falls in love, she acts like she just won the lottery? When a guy falls in love, he acts like he just slipped in a pile of cow manure.”
Griffin chuckled at her observation. “I say, that’s rather hard on us fellows, don’t you think? Not all men treat love as something to be avoided. Certainly, a man of Erik’s temperament might react as you’ve described. But I can assure you that if I were in love with someone who returned my affection, I would give an excellent impression of a bloke who’d just won a sweepstakes prize.”
“I take it you don’t buy the theory that all guys are alike?” Cassie’s tone was skeptical.
“Most assuredly not!” Griffin protested.
“That’s good to know. There might be hope for your kind after all.” She sank back in her seat and switched her attention to the scenery.
“Do you love him?” The scrivener’s question was barely audible.
“What?”
“You said when a girl falls in love. I assume you meant yourself. Forgive me for asking such a personal question but are you in love with Erik?”
“That’s a tough one.” Cassie folded her arms and paused to consider. “Right after he left, I convinced myself I was in love with him. You’d think I would be, right? I mean, he’s got the hair and the eyes and the muscles and...” She gave a dreamy smile. “He’s the total package. But—”
“But?” Griffin rejoined alertly.
“But if you’re asking me if he’s The One, I honestly don’t know. Now that I’ve gotten a little perspective on the situation, there’s something...” She scowled, searching to pinpoint the source of her reservation. “It’s just that... Well, he’s sort of...” She shrugged helplessly. “The truth is that I don’t know how I feel about him.”
Griffin seemed to brighten at her reply. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. There’s no need to rush to a hasty conclusion.” He settled back and lapsed into silence.
Cassie studied the gently rolling hills which seemed to be rushing upward to meet the airplane. “It’s so green here,” she remarked in amazement. “We’re in the Himalayas. I expected snow. Lots of snow.”
“Kathmandu is located in a valley surrounded and protected by mountains. Consequently, the climate is much more temperate than one might expect. It doesn’t snow in the valley at all, except every half century or so.”
At that moment, the captain came on speaker to announce their final descent and to inform the passengers that the local temperature was a balmy eighty degrees.
Cassie gave a short laugh. “We’re up in the highest mountain range in the world, and the weather in Kathmandu is still better than Chicago.”
“Apparently,” Griffin agreed.
“So, Erik was lying about snow in October around these parts?”
“Not precisely though I am convinced he did exaggerate the risk. Kathmandu is only a mile above sea level. Mount Kailash is three miles higher still. We can anticipate the weather there to be far less pleasant.”
The pythia edged closer to the window to get a good view of their descent. The rolling hills gave way to clusters of houses. These appeared in increasing numbers, stacked more closely together until they formed a sizeable city. Most of the buildings were no taller than three or four stories. They all seemed to follow the same boxy architectural style with carved embellishments around the window frames and doorways. The roofs were either flat or shallow-pitched pagodas. In the jumble of structures that constituted the heart of the city, modern buildings stood alongside ancient Hindu and Buddhist temples.
Cassie’s scrutiny was cut short when the wheels of the plane hit the tarmac with a slight bounce. Unlike the mega-airports back home, Tribhuvan International Airport was small, and it took only a matter of minutes for them to taxi to the gate.
When the pair stood up to deplane, the pythia gave an elaborate stretch. “This has been one long day in the air.”
“I quite agree.” Griffin reached into the overhead compartment for their carry-on luggage. “It already felt like a full day simply flying from Bhuj to Mumbai, and that was before the seven-hour flight from Mumbai to Kathmandu.”
The pair shuffled off the plane and patiently endured the time-consuming process of claiming their baggage and clearing Customs.
When they finally emerged from processing and turned to face the outer doors, Cassie scanned the exits worriedly. “I hope we recognize our contacts. Do you know what they look like?”
“I don’t believe they’ll be hard to find.” Griffin’s tone was unaccountably wry as he studied something off in the distance.
Following the direction of his gaze, Cassie understood his comment. Standing several yards in front of them were two young men—each one gripping the side of a placard that read “ARKANA” in bold, black letters.
The pythia stared at the sign and then at its bearers. She blinked. “Is it my eyes or...”
“No. No, it isn’t.”
Their new contacts were two twenty-something Asians who were identical twins. Both were of medium height and muscular build. They shared the same flat features, high cheekbones and almond eyes of the native people of the Himalayas. They’d even cut their hair in similar styles. They could only be distinguished from each other by their shirts. One wore a Chicago Cubs jersey—bright blue with a red team emblem. The other wore a White Sox jersey—black with a white team emblem.
They waved their free hands in unison when they saw the couple approaching them.
“This is surreal,” Cassie murmured to Griffin as they ambled toward the men. Then in a loud, slow voice, she asked, “Do you speak English?”
The twins exchanged a look and chuckled.
“We’re really not from here,” said one in a midwestern American accent.
The other added, “Born and raised in San Francisco. Based in Chicago now.”
“My name’s Rabten.” The young man in the blue shirt shook hands with Cassie and Griffin.
“And mine is Rinchen,” offered the one in black, also shaking hands with them. “Nobody can tell us apart when they first meet us, so—”
“—we decided to put on different shirts until you can tell that I’m the smarter one—”
“—and I’m the better looking one.”
They both burst out laughing.
“Maybe we should swap shirts,” Rabten confided to his brother. “That way everybody will think we’re both smart—”
“—and both good-looking,” Rinchen added. They beamed at their new acquaintances.
Griffin eyed them with perplexity as if they were an odd new species he’d never encountered before.
The pythia’s reaction was more pragmatic. “Guys, it’s been a long day, and we’re already confused enough. I think maybe you should both keep your shirts on. I promise that Griffin and I will think you’re each the smartest and the best looking, OK?”
“Deal!” they agreed simultaneously.
Chapter 38—Brotherly Love
The twins shepherded Cassie and Griffin into their car which was parked right outside the terminal.
“We figured we’d take you to your hotel to get checked in. It’s almost dark, and we’ll be flying out first thing tomorrow,” said Rinchen. “It’s too bad there won’t be time for you to see more of the city.”
Since their hotel was situated on the perimeter of the airport, the ride took less than five minutes.
The twins waited in the lobby while Griffin and Cassie registered, stowed their bags in their rooms and returned to join their new associates for dinner.
Arkana Archaeology Mystery Box Set 2 Page 21
