Fire Mountain

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Something pointy that I can use to jab in the dirt. I have no intentions of digging up precious artifacts. But I do think we’re meant to find that stone.” She brought out her Swiss Army knife, held it aloft so Lianne could see. She opened it up to its longest length. “This’ll work.”

  “What about me? I don’t have a neat little Swiss Army knife like that,” Lianne joked.

  But Gemma didn’t see the humor as she handed off an ordinary Bic® pen she’d taken from the hotel in Maui. “Here, use this.”

  Lianne looked skeptical as she began to sort through the dirt around the fire pit. “Next time Elnora and Ansel toss out information, I think I’ll ignore them. And just so you know, if I should stumble onto what looks like a human bone, I’m outta here.”

  “Fenwitha is a fairy, she didn’t use sacrifices in any of her rituals,” Gemma explained. “The book was very specific about that.”

  “And yet, we’re still in the dark about where the stone is.”

  The stark realization of that hit Gemma then. Why hadn’t she known to come here before now? Why hadn’t Kamena mentioned it? Or Aponivi? And would it have killed Salisaw to point her in this direction? Why the big secret?

  As she pondered the mystery of why, she bent down to use her knife, sticking the pointy end through the ashes, causing them to flutter about in the air. The gray ashes began to change color.

  Like an explosion, hundreds of red sparks rose from the pit, flickering, darting and dancing around Gemma. She heard faint laughter. Mirth and merriment filled the small meadow as it exploded in a burst of sparkling, dancing lights. The particles circled like fireflies, zipping and buzzing around Lianne before breaking into small groups. Each group circled around a stone, bathing the rocks that made up the circle in a pale, white light. The light changed colors, this time a glowing silver and green, smoldering into a mist that slowly drifted upward. It began to expand, growing in intensity, thicker, swirling until it had engulfed the circle.

  “Uh, Gemma, what’s going on?” Lianne called out.

  “Shh. Let it happen. Remain calm. It’s okay,” Gemma muttered, breathing in the silvery green fairy dust. “It won’t harm you.” That’s the last thing she said to Lianne as she spotted the creature known as Fenwitha beginning to take shape in the emerald fog.

  Fenwitha, the fairy, spread her wings and fluttered like Tinker Bell. She had flaming red hair, and like any good pixie, she hovered in the mist. With each flap of her wings, fairy dust glittered down like silver sprinkles. She wore a scarlet outfit, belted at the waist in a band of gold.

  “I’ve waited for two centuries for someone to come along with the courage to seek me out, to try and find another way. Until you, no one’s been brave enough to venture into this part of the mountain.” She spread out her arms. “This meadow has always been full of energy, full of spiritual awakening, a source of power and passion. Truth. Knowledge. Foresight. All rolled into my humble and modest stone circle.”

  “Why didn’t Kamena or the others tell me about you?”

  Fenwitha laughed, a musical lilt that danced on the wind. “I’ve been misunderstood, even feared by the many gods. No need. I protect this meadow, this circle because I can never leave. My spirit will always linger here. But even as a child you knew to come, to seek out Fenwitha and Fire. Since that is what brought you here to my meadow, I will give you a tiny slice of my power, something to carry with you, carry back to your world beyond here. There is evil and meanness. Darkness and malevolent forces. Use the power I bestow on you for good. If you try to use it for any other purpose, it will disappear, vanish from existence in your domain. This shall be your destiny. Do not fail Fenwitha.”

  Gemma started to ask another question, but the green mist began to fade to blue and then silver until it was gone entirely as if it had never been there at all.

  On the other side of the circle, Lianne stood frozen to one spot. “I couldn’t see where you’d gone. I couldn’t even see the other side of the circle.”

  “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

  Lianne looked down at Gemma’s boots where a red stone had been dropped at her feet. “There, the carnelian stone.”

  Gemma glanced down to see an elongated, red-orange stone lying at the tip of her boot.

  “It sorta resembles a heart,” Lianne said, stepping closer. “See the shape if you turn it just so, where the skinny part makes up the tip at the bottom and the top dips to form a V?”

  Gemma nodded, her fingers curling around the blood orange stone. “The heart of Fenwitha. It even feels warm to the touch, maybe from the ancient fire or maybe just from the sun.”

  “I hate to break this up, but we need to be getting back unless you want to stay longer.”

  “I do hate to leave this spot. It’s almost as magical as the mystic falls where Kamena lives. But we should probably get back.”

  “You could bring Lando out here…later.”

  “That’s a thought.”

  Reluctant to give up her enchanting encounter, Gemma lingered for a few more minutes before leading the way back down the mountain. Going downhill would’ve taken less time except Lianne had to stop and take more pictures of the red poppies growing in the wild.

  Once they reached the horses, Gemma stood momentarily admiring the view, a glint of Spirit Lake to the east and the peaks of Fire Mountain in front of her.

  She took out her phone to capture the moment. Just as she framed the shot, she caught movement above her, a red-tailed hawk swooped down to snag a fish out of Spirit Lake. She almost lost her footing trying to snap a picture. She stood there watching the action play out as the water glistened in the distance.

  When the hawk soared taking the fish with him, her line of vision tracked to a rustic cabin near the beach with a small pier out front. There, at water’s edge, tied up at the dock, was the barge Lando had been hunting.

  “Oh, my God. It’s here,” Gemma shouted, grabbing Lianne’s arm in a death grip and dragging her closer to get a better look. “See that? Look between the canyons and then across to the water. It’s the boat from Sunday night.”

  “Are you sure? How can you tell from this distance?”

  “I’m positive. There can’t be that many old barges around. We should go check it out.”

  “You’re nuts. I’m not going all that distance to get a better look. Whoever’s inside is probably dangerous. We should call Lando. Immediately.”

  “You’re right. Oh, jeez, I’ll need to figure out a way to tell him about it without explaining how I know.”

  “Uh-oh. Call in an anonymous tip.”

  “To hell with it,” she muttered. “I’ll march straight into his office and just tell the truth.”

  Lianne snickered. “That’ll be an improvement on your old approach. Maybe marriage really has changed you.”

  “Oh, shut up. How about if I tell Luke? We’re not that far from the clinic.”

  Lianne untied the reins and climbed onto Rudy’s back. “Did anyone ever tell you that you can be mean when the situation calls for it?”

  “I take after my mother like that. Genevieve Channing Wentworth was never a role model when it comes to doing the right thing.”

  The news went over with Lando about as expected. She felt the tension in the room escalate to the danger zone.

  First, he yelled at her about returning to a place where a body had been found two days earlier. After that, he reminded her that Zeb himself had warned the people living in the area to be on the lookout for suspicious characters who seemed out of place. That echoed Willow’s warning.

  She licked her lips, preparing for a prolonged battle. Trying to stay positive, she fired back, “I didn’t see anyone like that, but I did find your barge, didn’t I? Which ought to count for something. Aside from the fact that you’re overreacting, you’re overlooking that essential chunk of the puzzle that I brought back with me. Information. And valuable to boot.”

  Lando rubbed his forehead. “Why should I even
expect you to listen to me?”

  “I listen.”

  “No, you don’t. You get some hare-brained idea in your head and go off without so much as telling me about it.”

  “Watch it. This was not hare-brained.”

  “Right. Sure, it wasn’t. You went out there for another pretty stone to add to your collection. But I should be used to that by now, shouldn’t I? At least you didn’t approach the cabin by yourself and go knock on the door.”

  She didn’t mention that she’d wanted to do just that. “They must be following the San Arroyo River as it runs through Fire Mountain and dumps into the lip of Spirit Lake via the channel. Only a barge could make use of the shallow waters along that narrow gorge.”

  “You’re trying to change the subject.”

  “Is it working?”

  “Yeah. Once I make sure it’s the same barge, I’ll contact Zeb, and we’ll go in together combining our forces again. We’ll do a raid on the cabin and see where it takes us.”

  18

  For thousands of years, the San Arroyo River had cut a twenty-five-mile swath through the landscape, winding and slicing around flat deltas and carving out valleys to eventually reach the Pacific Ocean.

  During its southwesterly flow, the river drained past the western slope of Shadow Canyon, bringing with it silt and clay, redepositing the particles along its course past smaller creeks and coming to a head in a lagoon-like body of water that sometimes reached a hundred feet deep during the rainy season. In times of drought, though, the shallow spots would barely hold twenty feet of water. And that was the tricky part about bringing a barge through its rocks and edges and low water levels.

  “It had to take someone with enough skill to navigate up and down the river,” Lando pointed out. “I would never have thought to look here.”

  “I’m with you there,” Zeb said in agreement. “Tell me again how Gemma discovered this.”

  “Not here. Maybe over a beer later after I’ve cooled off.”

  “Ah, I hear ya. A vision then? She’s turning into quite the seer.”

  “Don’t start.”

  Realizing the subject was touchy, Zeb dropped it and focused on the task at hand.

  The barge took less than an hour to search, the cabin about the same. They’d learned that both boat and lodge were registered to a French Canadian by the name of Claude Bergamot. Or so they were supposed to believe. When they ran the name through the system, Bergamot didn’t exist, at least not the one who lived in Coyote Wells or had ever lived in Canada.

  The cabin was spotless, as though no one even used the place for hunting or fishing. The barge was another story. But despite their best efforts, the crime techs couldn’t lift a single fingerprint from anywhere stem to stern.

  “The boat’s been wiped clean and so was the cabin,” Lando stated after sending the county deputies on their way.

  Zeb was as perplexed as Lando. “Why do we keep running into dead ends?”

  “Because whoever Olson worked with knows how to cover their tracks. They’re pros at this. My guys have been busting their tails keeping an eye on the shipyard and the harbor when the barge was moored here the entire time. We’re no closer to finding out who’s been smuggling anything than we are to who killed Olson and Talia.”

  “And probably the woman near Fire Mountain.”

  Lando swiped his hand through his hair. “I haven’t forgotten her. Tuttle knows little more after her autopsy than he did the other day. No ID means there’s little chance in using her to connect the other murders.”

  “Or finding out why she was in the area. She’s not local. That much we know.”

  “Everything comes back full circle, a big fat nothing.”

  After meetings at work—while Lando and Zeb raided the cabin—Gemma got together with Lianne and Leia to talk about the bachelorette party.

  Leia had brought appetizers—stuffed baguettes with crab meat. “Tuesdays are slow nights at the restaurant. And Paul volunteered to pitch in. Plus, the crab meat was about to expire.”

  Lianne stared at her tiny sandwich before deciding to take a chance on it. “Tastes okay to me.”

  “Oh, it’s fine,” Leia assured her. To prove it, she picked up one and bit in. “I made them myself.”

  “So, is this one of the things you want us to serve at your party? Because I had a few other ideas.”

  “Honestly, I haven’t given it much thought. Since the weekend I just want to look forward to the wedding and becoming Mrs. Zebediah Longhorn. Leia Longhorn.”

  “I’m making Jell-O shots,” Lianne stated, stuffing the last of the baguette in her mouth.

  “Mimosas with brunch,” Gemma suggested, laying out the plans for a trip to a day spa. But she noticed Leia wasn’t jumping for joy like she’d imagined. “What’s wrong?”

  “I found out why I’ve been so moody lately.”

  “Oh, my God, you’re pregnant,” Lianne burst out.

  “No. I’m not. Luke did a blood test. Turns out, I have hypothyroidism, which basically means my thyroid isn’t working like it should. It’s been messing with my hormone levels. What with all the hours I put in, lack of sleep, and the pressure of the upcoming wedding, I missed all the signs. My mood swings, upset about everything, sensitive to cold, losing my hair. The signs were all there, I just…I was too busy to notice.”

  “How do they treat that?” Gemma asked.

  “One little dose of something called Levo-T each morning and I’ll be on the road to feeling like my old self again in no time.”

  “That sounds simple enough. I’m glad you went to Luke for help. Maybe that’s why he’s been preoccupied.”

  “He was worried about me and rushed the lab to get my results. I was about ready to go to Dr. Kinsdale to see if I was bipolar. But he assures me all the other tests came back just fine. He called to let me know right before I came over here. It pays to have a doctor in the family. Otherwise, I might’ve been waiting another week to find out if I was going crazy.”

  “We’re just happy that you’re getting it all sorted out,” Gemma said. She heard cars pull up outside. “I think that must be Lando and Zeb. Wonder what happened at the cabin. They must not have arrested anyone, or they’d be doing the paperwork right about now.”

  Lianne made a face. “They’ll be in a bad mood, I bet. I’ll text Luke and tell him to head over here, maybe pick up some burgers or something for dinner. The guys can’t survive on crab meat sandwiches.”

  “Good idea because I don’t feel much like cooking.”

  There wasn’t much joy when the two men joined them in the kitchen. But it was Lando who explained what had gone down out at the lake. “We keep running up against people who don’t exist.”

  “Or phonies living among us,” Zeb added.

  “Zeb and I are convinced someone in town or on the Rez is the key to unlocking this whole thing.”

  “We know Brandt was a phony,” Leia pointed out. “And Talia once mentioned that he owns a boat. Maybe he used it to help Olson smuggle the coins and casino chips out of Coyote Wells.”

  Zeb shook his head. “But why would they need a boat when Olson had his Cessna? It’s faster and easier to just load up the plane with the goods rather than anyone’s boat, including the barge or Brandt’s.”

  Gemma got out beers for the guys, twisted off the tops, and handed them over. “That’s true. But they didn’t have the Cessna Sunday night, now did they? That’s when they were spotted loading up in the rain, using darkness as their cover. It has to be someone locally who knew about the San Arroyo River channel, someone who knew that part of the county and figured out how to utilize it.”

  “My money is always on Brandt,” Leia insisted. “In fact, we should check his Internet history.”

  Lianne scowled over at Leia. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You can tell a lot about a person from their searches online,” Leia said, looking over at Zeb. “Isn’t that what you told me?” />
  “I didn’t think you were listening.”

  Leia cut her eyes to his. “Why? Because I’ve acted like the Wicked Witch of the North lately? I love listening to you talk about your job.”

  Lando rolled his eyes. “Enjoy it while they’re feeding you that line.”

  Gemma swatted Lando on the arm. “Don’t rain on their love parade just because I went out to Fire Mountain and you didn’t like it. If the barge had turned into the very clue you needed to solve this, my trip out there would be looking pretty good right about now.”

  “It would,” Lando admitted. “But here’s the thing that bothers me. The person who killed Jane Doe and left her up on Fire Mountain didn’t know about the cave. But if it’s the same person, how did they know about the channel winding its way through the San Arroyo? We can’t have it both ways. It’s either a local or it’s not.”

  Luke walked in toting bags with burgers and fries. “I couldn’t remember how everyone liked theirs, so you’ll just have to scrape off whatever crap it is you don’t like.”

  “Get it before the fries get cold,” Gemma urged, reaching into the sack and claiming a handful. “Want a beer, Luke?”

  “You bet. Thanks.”

  They gathered around the table and dug into the food.

  “Why is it we never bother to eat in the dining room?” Gemma asked.

  “Because we never make it that far,” Luke offered, leaning back in his chair. “We plop down here in the kitchen instead of bothering with fancy dishes.”

  “Yeah, but even when I’ve cooked, I don’t set the table in the dining room. I should do that more often.”

  “Next time,” Lando muttered, finishing off his burger. He got up to wash his hands and throw away his trash. Still mulling over the case, he took out another beer. “What gets me about this Olson guy is that everything we’ve learned about him is a dead end.”