Crystalline Crypt

by Mary Coley

  “I told you, Sheriff, I was in Charon’s Gardens at the Wildlife Refuge, wilderness camping,” Miss Bean said. “My gear is all upstairs, Mrs. Childers saw me carrying it in late this morning.”

  “So, she said,” the sheriff turned to Sean. “And I want to show you a photograph.” He held out the candid picture of Sean and Jenna outside their Tulsa home. “Have you seen this before?”

  Sean stared at the photograph. “It’s Jenna and me, but I’ve never seen it before. Where did you get it?” Anger tasted like iron in his mouth.

  “Mr. McNally had this and many other pictures of your wife, both with and without you, in his things. What do you know about McNally?”

  “Absolutely nothing. He worked with her, apparently. We never interacted. I don’t think he’d been with their marketing firm long.” Worked with her? No. He was a spy for someone. Who?

  “Were you aware he and Mandy were looking for your wife?”

  “I left Tulsa unexpectedly yesterday. I haven’t seen or talked to Mandy since. It’s a complete surprise to find her here.”

  Sean rubbed one hand over the back of his neck. If not for the other people in the room, he might tell the sheriff the truth, but right now he couldn’t. It would jeopardize the operation.

  “Why did you think your wife was here?” The sheriff demanded.

  “Something scared her—that painting you told me about, Mandy.”

  “What brought you here, Mr. Wade?” The sheriff looked firmly into Sean’s face. “Answer my question.”

  Sean closed his eyes again. He had to divert the sheriff. “I drove to our house. I heard someone upstairs. I thought it was a burglar and went to get our gun. The gun was gone. The door opened while I was searching, and someone shot me.”

  The sheriff shook his head.

  “Who shot you?” Mandy cried.

  “Jenna. She thought I was… someone else. When she realized she’d shot me, she became hysterical. She helped me clean my leg wound, then left. Told me she wouldn’t be back. No reason for me to stay, either.”

  “Weren’t you going to let me know?” Mandy frowned.

  “Eventually. I had to get a lead on where she’d gone. Will had been checking on Jenna’s past for me for several months in between other jobs.”

  “What jobs are you talking about?”

  The sheriff crossed his arms and stood back.

  The man was going to let this conversation play out. Sean’s mission could remain secret for now, but it was time Mandy knew the truth about Will.

  Sean released a long breath. “He’s a private eye, Mandy. A special type of independent private eye. Sometimes he works for the government. He’s on a case in New York, across the border from Toronto.”

  Mandy’s face paled. Her shoulders slumped. Sean knew this information would devastate her, but he had to continue.

  “Months ago, I asked him to trace Jenna through his sources. A possible connection showed up, a family named Bergen who once lived in Boulder. That connection led here, where the Bergens died twenty years ago. This was the logical place to begin searching, and Will agreed I had to start here. But he didn’t want you involved. Does he know you’re here?”

  “Yes, and he doesn’t want me here anymore than you do.” She spoke in a clipped voice. “What you don’t know is that Jenna called me, told me to come to Jandafar, told me to find Lamar. And it all had to be done by Saturday or it would be too late.”

  “Saturday is the anniversary of the cabin fire and her parents’ deaths,” Sean said.

  “And the disappearance of the Bergens’ two daughters, Molly and Sharon,” the sheriff added, drily.

  “Jenna’s here, someplace, I know it,” Mandy stated.

  The silence in the room seemed to mean they were all in agreement. Jenna was here, but where?

  “That painting Jenna found, the one that upset her so much… This all has to have something to do with that.” Mandy crossed the room to the window.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” the other woman said. “This conversation has nothing to do with me.”

  “Please stay around for the next day or so. I’m certain I’ll have more questions, and I would like to get a timeline for your camping trip,” the sheriff said.

  “I’ll be here through the weekend. We’ll be hiking. Couldn’t get a wilderness permit extension.” She left the room.

  “So, back to this painting. What was it of, exactly?” the sheriff asked.

  “A woman was trapped in a big glass box, like a crypt,” Mandy explained. “Blond, blue-eyed. She was screaming, terrified. But even so, there was no mistaking it was Jenna or someone who looked a lot like her.”

  “Like her sister,” the sheriff added.

  Sean shook his head. “It looked like Jenna to me.” Immediately, he regretted speaking up.

  Mandy stiffened. “When did you see the painting?”

  Before Sean could respond, the sheriff said, “There were two Bergen daughters, Molly and Sharon. Any idea which one your wife might have been? Did your investigator provide that information?”

  “Will said there was a sister, but nothing more.” He looked at Mandy. “I wanted to know about her family, but she’d never discuss it. I never dreamed it was something like this.” Sean rubbed the back of his neck again. He should have had Will dig deeper.

  “What about Mike McNally? Did you know he was looking for your wife, too?” the sheriff asked.

  Sean shook his head. The idea of McNally spying on them made his blood boil.

  “I don’t think I told him,” Mandy added. “Will knew, though, so I’m surprised he didn’t tell you. Have you talked to him in the last few days?”

  “Mandy?” Dale asked quietly from where she stood near the doorway of the parlor.

  “Oh, Dale, I’m sorry.” Mandy grabbed Sean’s arm and led him toward Dale. “This is Sean Wade. He’s here looking for Jenna, too. Sean, this is Dale Hardesty.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Dale said. “But sorry for the circumstances. Hello, Sheriff Mark. I need to go back home, Mandy, I have guests coming in. Do you want to go back with me, or could you get a ride to Jandafar after you finish here?”

  Sean turned to the sheriff. “I’ve told you all I know. I’ve spent the last day and a half looking for Jenna. I don’t know who would have hired Mike McNally, or who would have killed him. Jenna might know, but if she’s here, she’s hiding. Here’s my cell number. Call if you need me. I’m going out to Jandafar.”

  Sean followed Dale’s SUV closely as they drove, his thoughts churning. “Why did that painting cause Jenna to come here? What did it mean to her?” He looked at Mandy. She seemed tired, edgy, worried. He was certain that the information he’d revealed about Will had hurt her.

  “It showed her—or someone—trapped. Kept prisoner, unable to breathe. Did she come here to save someone? Her sister? Why did they split up after the fire? They were old enough to be on their own, but barely. What happened?”

  “The anniversary of the fire is tomorrow. Something is going to happen at Jandafar,” Sean said.

  Mandy nodded, grimly.

  Trees flashed past as the car climbed the hills and navigated the curves. Sean waited for Mandy to ask the inevitable question he’d evaded back in the boarding house. Their vehicle rounded a corner.

  “Sean, when did you see the painting? It blew up in the fire at the gallery not long after Mike and I were there.”

  Sean chose his words carefully. “I saw it a few days before she did, during an insurance assessment at the gallery. I never told her about it.” He didn’t need to tell Mandy it had been more than an assessment, that he’d been investigating the gallery for forgeries.

  His answer seemed to satisfy her. They drove on in silence.

  At Jandafar, Sean parked in front of the duplex.

  “I need to run inside and let Moby out,” Mandy said.

  “Moby?” Sean called as she bolted out of the car.

  “A dog I rescued. He was in th
e explosion at the art gallery.” Mandy hollered over her shoulder as she ran up onto the porch.

  Sean stepped out of the car and stretched. He didn’t remember seeing a dog at the gallery on previous visits.

  Claws scrambled and a dirty-blond curly-haired dog burst out of the cabin. He galloped toward Sean and stopped short of leaping onto him. The animal made a circle and loped back toward Mandy.

  “Wow. That’s a big dog.” He’d seen mixed-breed poodles like it before, but this dog was much bigger than he’d expected.

  “Goldendoodle, I think. Standard poodle and golden retriever. Smart.” Mandy lifted her knee, knocking the animal in the chest as it attempted to leap into her arms. “No! Down. Stay down. Good boy.”

  “You going to keep him? Does Will like dogs?”

  Mandy made a face. “It may not matter if he does or not. Meanwhile, I’m a foster parent.” She snapped a leash onto the dog’s collar and headed for the ranch house.

  Sean followed her down the road and onto the porch, where she tied the dog to the leg of a bench. Sean patted the dog’s head as he passed. He and Will had never talked about dogs. Apparently, Will and Mandy never had either. A dog was a commitment, and up until now, Will had not made many of those. This animal would either make or break their relationship, if it hadn’t been broken already by the revelations he’d made.

  Inside the house, Dale Hardesty was chopping vegetables on the kitchen counter.

  Mandy turned to him. “Sean, I need to speak to Lamar for a minute. Will you wait for me here with Dale?”

  “Sure.” He relaxed against the countertop.

  Dale used the big chopping knife on the cutting board beside the sink.

  “Nice place you have here, Dale. How long have you lived here?” He wanted more information about this woman and her husband. They might be more connected to his wife than he’d been led to believe.

  ~ Chapter 50 ~

  Mandy

  Mandy’s thoughts tumbled as she untied Moby and headed for the stables. Liars. They were all liars, every one of them. Sean. Will. Mike. Who else? Jenna, her best friend. Her heart ached with disillusionment.

  In the corral, three horses roamed free. One whinnied, another pawed the earth. None had been saddled. A horse fly buzzed one of the mares. She tossed her mane.

  “Lamar!” Mandy called. She strode into the stable and down the aisle to the tack room. Moby pulled her every which way, as if she was the one on the leash, not the dog. He scurried with his nose to the ground, sniffing the dirt and bits of straw.

  “Lamar?” She wanted to see the cowboy. No, she needed to see him. She wasn’t sure why. In the tack room, she passed saddles and hanging bridles. The scent of freshly soaped leather hung in the air. Where was he? Why had he let the horses in from the pasture and not saddled them? Lamar wouldn’t leave that task until after dinner; saddling the horses would take too long if the guests wanted to see the sunset from a high point on a nearby hill.

  Moby lapped at the water in Doobie’s dog bowl near the tack room. When he looked up at her, his mouth seemed to grin. Water dripped from long, curly chin hairs.

  “Come on, Moby. I guess Lamar’s not here.” She was more than disappointed, she was depressed. She walked back to the cabin and locked Moby inside again.

  Inside the main house, Mandy found Dale perched on the arm of the leather sofa, talking to Sean in a low voice.

  As she stepped closer, Dale said, “We’ll find her. Maybe we can finally put the question of that fire to rest. The Bergens would want that, I’m sure.”

  Dale rubbed her forehead. Both she and Max had mentioned her headaches, and it was worrisome. She was either ill or stressed out from operating the ranch and dealing with the conflict between Chad and Max.

  “Have you seen Lamar?” Mandy asked. “He’s not in the barn. He was going to saddle several horses in case the guests wanted a sunset ride after dinner.”

  “He was here when the couple staying in Cabin 3 arrived. Paperwork’s been signed. Must have showed them up to their cabin. The other couple isn’t here yet.”

  “Anything I can help with? Set the tables?”

  “Sure.” Dale smiled at Sean. “Mandy wants to be sure she doesn’t owe me anything for her stay here. She’s been a great help today. I hope she decides to stay. And I’m hoping for the best for you and your wife.”

  Dale scooted off the arm of the sofa and looked out the window. “Back to work. I’ll leave you two to talk. Check with me in the kitchen in a few minutes, Mandy, okay?” Dale left the room.

  “You’re thinking about staying here?” Sean crossed his arms. “Does Will know?”

  “I quit my job—right before they were going to fire me. I don’t want to go back to that rat race. Maybe it’s more my speed in a small town.” She didn’t feel any regrets. Right now, she had nothing to go back to.

  “And what about Will?”

  “Will’s lied to me from the beginning. About everything. How do you think I feel about that?” She carefully set places at a long dining table.

  “Much the same as I feel about Jenna’s lies. But I’m here. I still love her. The woman I married is worth loving despite anything that might have happened to her previously. I wish she would have trusted me enough to tell me the truth.”

  Mandy wasn’t sure she felt that strongly about Will. “Trust is a funny thing. It takes so long for it to come, but it can be gone in an instant. Poof. How can you ever trust that Jenna is telling you the truth from here on out?”

  “If you don’t understand, then I guess what you feel for Will isn’t really love.” His look met hers. “And what about your friendship with Jenna?”

  Her heart drummed. Maybe he was right. If she truly loved Will, would it have mattered that he hadn’t been honest with her about his profession? Instead, something had broken inside her. She wasn’t sure she and Will could ever mend it.

  As far as Jenna, somehow, the fact that she’d hidden her past didn’t matter. She was honest about who she was now. She knew Jenna’s heart.

  “I wonder where Lamar is,” Mandy said.

  “What is it with this Lamar, anyway? I haven’t met him, but he seems to enter every conversation. Is there something between you two?”

  She shook her head. “He’s nice. Easy to talk to. And he has a caring side I rarely see with Will.”

  “Sounds like you’ve already picked out Will’s replacement.”

  “Right,” she scoffed. “Lamar’s been helpful the last two days. He was here twenty years ago when the Bergens died. He’s been the only one willing to talk about it and to give me a feel for who Jenna was.” She could readily defend him. Lamar felt real, and honest.

  “And who was Jenna?”

  Was Sean ready to know? It wasn’t up to her to decide. He had a right to know. “I’m leaning toward Sharon.”

  “Is that good?” The tone of his voice changed.

  “Maybe not. Lamar thought Sharon was wild. He didn’t like her behavior. Max’s brother Chad fell in love with Sharon. Her sister Molly was quieter, smart but reserved. At first, I thought Jenna had to be Molly, but when Lamar saw a picture of the girls at Chad’s this morning, he identified the young woman who looked the most like Jenna as Sharon, not Molly.”

  Sean frowned. “Jenna isn’t wild. She isn’t a flirt or a party girl. Her personality fits his description of Molly.”

  “Both young women disappeared. Something about that painting triggered Jenna to come here. I think something more than the twentieth anniversary of the fire.”

  Sean’s eyes narrowed. “What if the woman in the painting wasn’t her, but her sister, and Jenna believes her to be in danger? Maybe she came to rescue her.” Sean’s dark eyes sparked with a new energy.

  “Sean, Jenna’s a good person. You know she is.”

  “I want to believe that. But I don’t understand why she couldn’t share any of this with me.”

  “Or with me. Over the last few days, I’ve been remembering a
ll the times she helped me. Like the time I came down with the flu. She brought me soup and checked on me twice a day, even sat with me in the evenings so I’d have company since Will was out of town.

  “One time I had a wreck and I couldn’t afford to pay the deductible for my car insurance so I could have it fixed. She paid it and never asked for anything even though it took months to pay her back.”

  Sean smiled. “I remember. I didn’t want her to loan the money to you. I didn’t think you were a good risk.”

  “Thanks for your confidence. But you know, Jenna had confidence in me from the minute we first met. I thought it was because we’re both orphans and lost our parents as teenagers. Neither of us wanted to talk about it. Hurt too much. You get consumed with what-ifs, and the guilt is overpowering. You try to figure out if it was your fault, if you could have prevented it by being there or saying or doing something different. There’s the pain of continuing your life without them yet thinking about them every time something happens that you would have shared with them. At times, it’s unbearable.”

  “I can only imagine. Maybe I didn’t let Jenna know how sorry I was. Maybe she would have shared more if I would have acted more interested and concerned.”

  “See, there you go. That guilt trip doesn’t help.” Mandy’s throat tightened. “We need to find her. It doesn’t matter if she’s Sharon or Molly. Jenna is my best friend, and she wanted my help.”

  Forget the note in her cabin. Mandy was certain Jenna had not written it. Someone else wanted her out of the picture.

  “Where does that leave me?” Sean’s look was bleak. “She didn’t tell me she was coming here or ask me to come. She shot me accidentally and left. Maybe she wants to leave our life behind, too.”

  “I don’t know the answer. I wish Lamar was here to talk to you. Where is he?”

  After she tucked the last napkin underneath the fork at one place setting, she looked out the window at the meadow expanse west of the house and crossed the dining room to another window facing the stable. “I don’t see his truck, and he promised he’d be at the barn, saddling the horses. They’re still wandering the corral.” Mandy glanced at the wall clock. “It’s way past time to meet him. I think I’ll go up to Cabin 3, make sure he isn’t sitting on the porch shooting the breeze with the visitors, or that he didn’t get roped into a chore that’s taken up the afternoon.”