Legend of The Lost: (Z & C Mysteries, #4)

by Zoey Kane

  FOURTEEN

  The cavern they had fallen into was illuminated, but by what was unknown. Could it be the treasure? From ceiling to floor, the walls shimmered with thousands of gold veins like lightning bolts frozen in time. Had they really found it? The coveted Lost Dutchman’s Mine?

  The Kanes wiped the earthy particles off their faces and out of their hair in wonderment, not having gained enough strength yet to stand up. They could barely believe their eyes. Footfalls nearby stole their attention, and they sprang clumsily to their feet.

  A handsome man, wearing black leather pants that hugged his hips and thighs just right, seemed to be moving as if in slow motion. Every step he took rocked in a breathtaking swagger. His black leather vest gave a glimpse of well-defined muscles on his chest. Around his head, a gold wire held feathers that sparkled with golden flakes, adorning his dark hair—dark hair which fell over smoldering eyes, high cheekbones, and strong shoulders. And, of course, there was a silver cuff identical to Zo’s.

  He said, “How…”

  Feeling a bit overwhelmed and underprepared, Zo lifted an arm and repeated the customary greeting. “How,” she said.

  Daniel’s dark brows narrowed. “I mean how did you find the mine?”

  Claire gave a nervous laugh, and lightly smacked her mother’s arm. “Of course, Mother…” she said. “Sheesh.”

  Zo came to her senses. “Excuse me. We just sort of dropped in,” she replied, thinking how their entire adventure actually started from “dropping in.” She added, “We followed the drumming, which turned out to be hammering.”

  Daniel solemnly nodded. “Now you know one of the secrets I walk with.”

  “Oh, goodness…” Zo said. “No wonder you were so intense about this bracelet.” She went to take it off her arm, realizing the teeth clamped over a nugget symbolized the secret of the gold mine.

  “No! Don’t take it off! That’s what’s protecting you two. There are untold curses here.”

  “Okay,” Zo answered with an “Eep!”

  They stood staring at each other for a long moment. Zo decided to say what was on her mind, no matter how silly it might sound. “So how old are you really?”

  “I’m forty-nine.”

  “You mean you’re not seven hundred years old?” she continued, pursuing her inquiry.

  “I’m a man, not a zombie, Zo.”

  “This is it?” Claire asked, still eyeing her surroundings in wonder. “This is the place?”

  Daniel lifted an arm, the gold in the walls reflecting off his muscles. “Ladies, you are standing in the middle of The Lost Dutchman’s Mine.”

  Claire said, apologetically, “Well, now everybody is going to find it because we made a big hole while sliding down the throat of this mine.”

  Zo gave her daughter a knowing look, and she responded with a nod.

  There was no hint of worry in his countenance. “Since you are here, look around for yourself. When you want to leave, call my name… but beware the gold.”

  To their right, a tunnel seemed to appear from out of nowhere, also illuminated by gold. When they looked back toward Daniel, he was gone.

  “We must be dead,” Zo said matter-of-factly. “This is too hard to believe, even for us.”

  They entered the tunnel. It wasn’t too long before they were running into old rifles, swords, and heaps of clothing with skeletons still inside them.

  “How much do you want to bet these were Spanish soldiers, Mom?” Claire said. They reverently stepped over the skeletal bodies bound in uniform, some with arrows still stuck through them.

  There were others interwoven with the soldiers who were wearing rawhide. Some with long pants, and others with what Zo could only describe as an apron drape. Most wore a band of fabric around their skulls with portions of hair still attached. There were rifles, bows, and arrows also among them.

  They turned a corner and discovered a different vein. There wasn’t as much gold, yet the clay walls still sparkled with little nuggets, and the floor glittered like Tinkerbell had been there, casting her pixie dust.

  The two walked on further. The deeper they went, the less gold they saw, until there wasn’t any at all, just a dark, stony, hewn tunnel. A skeleton of a man slumped against a wall, wearing modern clothing—jeans and a blue tee with a sleeveless vest for warmth.

  “Let’s go see, Claire.” They stepped closer.

  The two stood on either side of him. His pickaxe and tool belt were removed, but he still wore a yellow safety helmet with a headlamp. His head rested against the rock wall, his jaw hanging open in a unfortunate display of miserable teeth with gold fillings. A notebook rested beside his bone-fingers in the dirt. Claire began to read, without touching him, just leaning down, “Day twenty-six. Out of luck, out of breath. I haven’t found gold, but I know it’s here somewhere in this maze. I know it! All I need is just a little sleep and then I’ll continue further. I need to go back for more batteries for my light, but I want to go just a little further. Tomorrow I’ll head back for food, water and batteries. I have found The Lost Dutchman’s Mine! This is it. It’s all mine.”

  Claire paused. “It’s signed ‘Jim Hoffa,’ Mother.”

  “The Jimmy Hoffa?”

  “Why not? It would sure answer a lot of questions.”

  His travel pack was thin and a canteen lay on the floor like it had been thrown.

  “Do you think we should take anything with us?” asked Claire. “His notebook?”

  “No. I think we should leave the sleeping to their secrets. Especially this one. Can you imagine what would happen if anyone really knew about this mine? And I think we ought to head back now so that we, too, aren’t discovered in the future with a notepad and a burned-out battery.”

  “I agree, for sure!”

  The two retraced their steps, Zo saying, “I wouldn’t want any of this ghostly horde following us home because we have something of theirs. I’m just sayin’.”

  “Yep.”

  “Remember the ghost-ship crew in Pirates Of The Caribbean? They came after the people who had one of their coins. And those ghosts were bad to begin with because they decided to take a little something-something. I learned great lessons from the movies.”

  “I was more thinking about Aladdin,” Claire mused, crossing her arms with a chill.

  “Well, let’s just say, I prefer not to do my camping in a graveyard. That’s what this is, an historical graveyard. We must not disturb it! That’s probably why Daniel said, ‘Beware the gold.’”

  They could see another tunnel, which they only peered down and didn’t enter, preferring to leave. It was like walking around catacombs.

  “Hah! Did you see there was another body down in there?” asked Claire.

  “Do you suppose it’s Elvis?”

  “Why would we be surprised if it was?”

  “Yeah, huh?!”

  When they returned to the golden cavern from which they first entered, Zo called out, “Daniel Walks-With-Secrets!”

  He approached them. “Seen enough?”

  “Yes, we have,” confirmed Claire. “We would like to return to the ranch now.”

  “No problem, but, first, do you have any gold in your pockets?”

  “No,” said Zo. “We decided we didn’t want to take anything. We have no need anyway.”

  “I have a question,” Claire said. “What did you mean, ‘Beware the gold’?”

  “It’s the curse of this wealth. Men come in here and try to keep the gold, the heart of all gold deposits. God’s Own. It can’t be claimed by greed. Those who try meet their death.”

  “I’m a little startled to learn that if we wanted to grab some of the gold in my purse and pockets, you would have let us die…”

  Daniel shifted his weight to the other foot and looked down, then back up with his brow wrinkled. “That’s why I asked if you had taken any gold. I certainly would have tried to convince you to leave it. Yet, I am not the source of power in this mine. I am only the w
atcher. A sacred call.”

  They all stood a moment without speaking. Then Daniel said with a bright smile, “Please accept a gift from the watcher of this mine. Take a good-sized rock of pure gold over there and give it to the needy of your own choosing.”

  Mother and daughter looked at each other like they weren’t too sure about it.

  “Just tell your foundation that you got it from an anonymous donor.” Daniel clasped his hands together, looking pleased.

  Zo’s face lit up in surprise. “You know we sponsor a foundation for good causes?”

  “White woman question Medicine Man slash Spirit Man, who knows many things, which are otherwise secrets.”

  “Okay…” Zo thought she would test the Spirit Man. “What’s one of my secrets?”

  He said, “You—good woman, strong, brave, discerning…” and then a look of sadness showed in his eyes. “You very lonely.” He touched over her heart. “Don’t worry, also very desirable to equally good man.”

  Daniel unexpectedly put his hands on Zo’s head and began singing in a native language. Claire’s eyes were wide with surprise and awe.

  When he finished and removed his hands, he said, “Don’t worry, Claire’s children will give you very many great grandchildren to sit at your feet, arguing with each other.”

  “Wow!” Zo said and Claire gave a teasing nod. “Um, thank you?”

  Daniel put a large rock of gold into a woven bag before taking hold of Zo and then Claire, helping them up the avalanche of rocks. When they got to the top, it was still covered by the dark shadows of dawn’s early light.

  “Should I give you back the bracelet now?” Zo asked, a little sad to see it go.

  “That will probably be best,” he answered with a smile and one hand out.

  As soon as the bracelet was returned, there was another trembling that made the three seek steady ground. This time, it was just a cave-in to cover the mine’s throat.

  Daniel stabbed the elevation sign back into the gravel. It looked as it did before, although a bit crooked. “The mine takes care of itself,” he said. “I take care of the good people who accidentally drop in, or are otherwise invited here by the bracelet.”

  He lifted the mysterious piece of jewelry. “This cuff always worries me. I never know how things will go. Oh, ah, may I also have Elena’s clue, please?” It was another secret he happened to know about.

  Zo reached into a compartment of her purse, and happily handed it over. “That reminds me, who is responsible for the funny-money?”

  “Not ready to say yet, but soon.” His dark eyebrows lifted. “Oh, you won’t be giving any guided tours or writing any books about the mine, will you?”

  “You know we won’t,” Zo said.

  “Yes.” He grinned with assurance. A light breeze ruffled through his hair. “Be careful on your way down.”

  “Will do,” responded Claire. They turned with the gold sack on Claire’s shoulder. It would be a heavy walk down the path.

  By the time they got to the ATV, the shadows receded to a pale blue in the morning light. Claire put the heavy tote bag behind the passenger seat in the cage-like container.

  A few minutes into their journey back to the ranch, they heard walkie-talkie interference. Then, “Zoey an’ Claire,” Mackey’s voice came through clearly, “pull over yer vehicle.”

  “What’s that about?” Claire asked, taking a second to look over her shoulder as she drove along. “Where is he? I don’t see him.”

  The sound of interference broke through again as Zo grabbed the walkie-talkie out of the compartment. “Pull over now, Miss Claire, an’ everything will be all right.”

  “What the…?” Claire said. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  Zo pressed a button and responded. “We don’t see you, Mackey. We’re headed back to the ranch.”

  “I said, pull over. Now you two behave like ladies, or I ain’t obliged to bein’ a gentleman.” Interference broke in. “Understand?”

  “Is he threatening us?” Claire asked, pushing the gas pedal harder, the wind whipping through their hair.

  “Sounds like it,” Zo said, sliding a hand into her purse to grip her gun. “Whatever you do, don’t pull over. I don’t feel good about this one bit.”

  FIFTEEN

  Mackey’s big, black pickup truck growled, spitting dirt and sand in the distance. Claire jerked her steering wheel to the right, and floored the gas pedal, bouncing them as far as their seatbelts would allow.

  “Hurry!” Zo exclaimed, still holding her concealed weapon.

  The pickup was inevitably faster, and came roaring over, skidding to a stop right in front of them. Claire stomped the brake, causing another great jolt, though they were okay, and so was the gold boulder secured tightly away in the back compartment. The ATV idled.

  “Hold it right there, ladies.” Mackey put his hand through the window, motioning for them to stay put. The sun, now completely up, was casting magenta hues over the man’s irritated face. “Hand over yer purse, Zo dear.”

  Zo asked, “When did you become a roadside bandit?”

  “Don’t play dumb. I know you snuck into Elena’s room. I saw you running when I went to lock the window. I want to see what you stole.”

  “You think I stole something?” Zo replied, her hand still on her gun.

  “You were in her room in the middle of the night.”

  “Yeah, well, so were you. What were you looking for, Mackey?” Zo felt she had nothing to lose by confronting him. He was already up to no good, and she wanted answers. “What were you up to?”

  The old man’s eye twitched. “That’s none o’ yer beeswax, missy. It’s my ranch. I can come an’ go wherever, whenever, as I please.”

  “I have a theory,” Zo said.

  Claire said out of the corner of her mouth, “Are you sure you want to be sharing any theories at this particular moment, Motherrr?”

  Mackey smiled a daring grin. “Jist what is this theory o’ yers?”

  “Your horse, Lucy, got a hoof abscess of some kind, causing an infection that made her impossible to ride. You called the vet to come out and take care of her, and added routine check-ups for the rest of the horses, so no one would suspect anything wrong.”

  Another eye twitch. “Oh yeah? An’ why would I do that?”

  “Because you’re the one who clunked Brooks over the head to take Goldstrike out for a ride.” Zo’s heart thunked hard against her chest. She’d been around quite a few bad guys, especially murder suspects of late, but she never spelled out their evil deeds in detail to their faces. Her gut told her a showdown was inevitable either way; there was no escaping it.

  “Go on…” he said in an even tone.

  “You had to go to the Box Caves to meet Ed and George.”

  “What fer? Tell me, smarty pants.”

  “Your counterfeit set-up. You’ve been making funny-money, which is a federal crime. Your ranch has been having money troubles, hasn’t it?”

  He gave a gravelly guffaw. “What are you talkin’ about?”

  Claire felt a surge of courage from all her adrenaline, and interjected, “I assume duct-tape isn’t normal decor for an office chair? And needing a fan in your office because the air conditioning doesn’t work right, isn’t normally a problem for the rich, is it? That poor waitress, Cindy—she’s always doing double-duty, and working overtime. At first, I didn’t think much of it, but she’s always working, night and day. As is Brooks, whose loyalty you bought through family debts and favors, seeing as how his uncle is an old friend—isn’t he? You sure keep tabs on his every move.”

  Zo couldn’t help admiring her daughter, and her heart swelled with pride, excited to hear more.

  “Then there’s our ‘economy’ room, to put it nicely, which is so rusted up and busted up, the TV’s sporting a wire hanger for better reception! I haven’t seen one of those since the eighties. Oh, and you sold off much of your cattle the other day, as I saw them being trucked away. You must real
ly need the money baaaad. And, please, don’t say that Hatter’s and Moomey’s crews can pay in anything more than tobacco and obscene entertainment.”

  Mackey’s hard stare showed he couldn’t deny any of that.

  “No matter what Marlene says, this is no resort for the well-to-do,” Claire concluded. “It may be pretty on the outside, but it’s dying on the inside where it counts—your pocketbook. The legend of The Lost Dutchman’s Mine is vanishing rapidly, along with your money.”

  Claire revved the engine.

  Zo shook her head with another thought. “And to think you were so hospitable, even donating us clothing from the gas station.”

  “That wasn’t me. It was yer Injin boyfriend.” Mackey lifted a handgun at them, the barrel’s tip glinting. “Step out o’ the vehicle an’ hand over yer purse!” His grimace was desperate.

  Zo lifted her gun and popped a shot at Mackey, who dove out of the way onto his passenger seat. She shot out his back tires as they sped by. The sound echoed as though there were multiple shooters in the hills.

  Claire put the gas pedal to the floor, getting them out of there fast. “Holy cow, you’re a good shot!” she said.

  It didn’t stop the crusty, and formerly lovable, old man from racing after them at high speed on flattened tires. Worst of all, now he was shooting at them.

  “Make use of this all-terrainer, and turn over there!” Zo yelled over the whine of the engine, pointing at the especially rougher desert floor.

  They bounced and flew up and over gullies, Claire keeping both hands on the wheel, and mustering all her strength. “Shoot back, Mom! He’s going to kill us!” Just then, a bullet shattered the rearview mirror.

  “Point taken!” Zo snapped off her seatbelt, turned on her knees, and crouched, looking over the seat. “I only have a few bullets left.”

  The next time Mackey caught air over a gully’s ridge, which put him right in line for a steady, airborne shot, Zo pulled the trigger. She missed, hitting nothing but wind.

  Claire dropped lower in her seat at the sound of more gunshots. “Get him, Mom!”