Race for the Flash Stone (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 2)

by K Patrick Donoghue

  She tried to reach the retired professor twice more during the three-hour drive before Anabel finally returned her call. She had been busy gardening, Anabel said, and had just stepped inside for a drink when she saw she had messages. She told Jennifer to look for her out back if she didn’t answer the door when Jennifer arrived.

  It had been three months since Jennifer had seen or talked to Anabel. The middle-aged woman had been Devlin Wilson’s “lady friend” for more than thirty years. Originally a student in one of Devlin’s archaeology classes, Anabel shared his passion for ancient cultures and they quickly developed a friendship that blossomed into something more intimate not long after.

  She had also been the person Devlin Wilson trusted to hold the Waterland Map when he grew paranoid that others were after the Stones and map. Jennifer still remembered the day Anlon returned with the precious document after visiting Anabel. According to Anabel, Devlin had asked that she pass it to Anlon.

  The first time Jennifer laid eyes on Anabel was at Stillwater Quarry. When she rounded the bend, there was Anabel, cowering, with arms tied behind her back. Then she saw Anlon’s twisted body hovering in the air while Anabel’s kidnapper, Pacal Flores, swayed Anlon to and fro under the control of a Breylofte. The memory of Anlon’s lifeless body dangling in the air still sickened Jennifer.

  A few days later, after the shock of confrontation with Pacal had subsided for both Jennifer and Anabel, Jennifer had traveled to Bennington to interview Anabel for the police investigation of the kidnapping. Since then, Anabel had emailed on a couple of occasions to check up on Anlon’s recuperation and to ask about the status of Devlin’s research. Now Jennifer was happy for the chance to speak with Anabel once again.

  When her car came to a stop outside Anabel’s modest rambler, Jennifer stepped out of the car and breathed in the air of the surrounding Green Mountains. It was thicker than Tahoe, more humid, but it still was a delightful change from the stuffy atmosphere of Goodwin’s office.

  There was no answer when she knocked on the door, so she did as Anabel had suggested and walked around the back of the house. When she turned the corner, she said, “Whoa!”

  From the front of the house, the garden was not visible, but now Jennifer understood why Anabel hadn’t heard her phone. It was a veritable jungle of flowers and plants. Everywhere she looked, there were butterflies of every shape and size flitting about.

  There, about thirty yards away with a sack of potting soil by her side, knelt Anabel with trowel in hand. Jennifer called to her. Anabel turned and smiled. Using her hands to steady herself, Anabel slowly rose from the ground. When she finally stood, she pressed back her white hair, wiped her hands on a small rag and greeted Jennifer. “Well, hello! Caught me in the act!”

  Jennifer smiled. It was a one-liner often made in the presence of cops. Gazing at Anabel’s drawn face, she said, “Good to see you, again. How have you been?”

  “Oh, getting on all right, I suppose,” said Anabel. “Are you back in the area for long?”

  “A few days,” Jennifer said. “I have to check up on the repairs to Devlin’s, I mean Anlon’s, home in Stockbridge, and some other stuff.”

  “You young people, it’s always run, run, run. Sometimes, you have to stop and smell the flowers,” Anabel said with a laugh, sweeping her arms toward the garden. She staggered slightly from the quick gesture.

  “Well, if I had a garden like yours, I would! It’s beautiful,” Jennifer said.

  “It keeps me busy, plus I like my little friends.” Anabel held out a hand for a butterfly to land. The Monarch obediently landed in Anabel’s open palm. She whispered a few words and off the butterfly went. Turning her attention back to Jennifer, Anabel asked, “Would you like a cold drink?”

  “Um, sure,” said Jennifer.

  Together, they walked back to the house and then settled in the kitchen. It was a classic New England farmhouse kitchen…and Anabel had a thing for Holstein cows. On the walls were painted scenes featuring the black-and-white grazers. On the floor, small rugs emblazoned with the cows rested in front of the refrigerator and kitchen sink.

  On the gingham-covered table sat salt and pepper shakers shaped like Holstein eggs. On the counter was a small rack with a half dozen other eggs. Some were marble, others painted wood. Every other one was of the same Holstein pattern of the shakers. She even had a clock hanging above the door leading outside with a Holstein whose tail marked the minutes and whose head marked the hours. At the moment, the cow’s head was positioned at an unflattering angle extending from the cow’s rear end, while the tail chased closely behind.

  Anabel apologized for the mess on the kitchen table. She cleared a bowl and newspaper from the table and set them on the counter. From the refrigerator, she removed a pitcher and poured two glasses.

  Handing one to Jennifer, she said, “Try it, it’s refreshing.”

  Jennifer sipped and said, “Mmmm, what is it?”

  Anabel sipped some herself. “It’s tea, dear,” she said. “So, how is Anlon? I saw the video of him eating his solid food. He looked so happy.”

  The mention brought a smile to Jennifer’s face. It had indeed been a fun moment. After seeing Anlon glumly sip his meals through a straw for weeks, the sight of the smile on his face after nibbling on the bean burrito was heartwarming.

  “He’s doing really good. He asked me to say hello.”

  “That’s nice to hear, please say hello back. Devlin liked Anlon very much. I hated to see him get hurt so badly.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Jennifer said, sighing. If only she’d seen his phone message sooner, Anlon might never have been injured. It was a thought that haunted Jennifer every time she saw him limp.

  “And how is his young friend, the giggly one with the funny name and tattoos?”

  Jennifer was midsip when Anabel asked the question. She nearly spit the drink out at the description. “Pebbles? Oh, she’s great. We’ve had a lot of fun together in Tahoe.”

  “Good. And you? Are you back working?”

  “Not yet. I still have another two months before I can go back. Gotta tell you, though, I’m seriously considering staying out west,” Jennifer said. She turned red-faced. Did I just say that out loud? she wondered. It was a private thought, one she hadn’t shared with anyone yet…not even Pebbles.

  “Oh, really?” asked Anabel.

  Jennifer waved a hand. “Ah, who knows? Anyway, I have something for you.” Reaching into her tote, she pulled out the photos she had shared with Goodwin and set them on the table while she dug deeper in the bag for another set of photos.

  Anabel spied the top picture and asked, “Oh. Is that Devlin’s prized stone?”

  “Yep,” Jennifer said. “I was going to ask you about that and the other pictures later. First, I wanted to show you these.”

  She laid three photographs on the table. Anabel gave a small gasp. “My goodness. Where did you find these?”

  The three photographs were of Devlin and Anabel at different ruins. The smiling couple stood arm in arm in front of iconic monuments. On the back of the photographs, Devlin had scribbled the dates and locations of each picture. One was taken in 1987 at the Apollo Temple, in Side, Turkey. The next was labeled “Tiwanaku, Bolivia, 1992” and showed the pair next to a tall, red monolith. The last was taken aside a fallen statue in a jungle, and its inscription read, “Zapatera, 2000.”

  “I found them while I was cleaning out Devlin’s things from the Stockbridge house.”

  “Oh, my! I didn’t know he kept any pictures of our trips,” said Anabel. “Where were they?”

  “I found them in a box in his bedroom closet,” Jennifer said.

  Anabel smiled. “Not surprising. Devlin wasn’t overly sentimental.”

  “Anlon thought you might want one of them. He said to let you pick.”

  “That’s sweet. Thank you, dear.”

  “My pleasure,” said Jennifer. While Anabel studied the photos, Jennifer continued. “I was wondering if I mi
ght ask you some questions about Devlin.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, we’ve restarted his research and there are some things we don’t understand. Anlon asked me to see if you could help.”

  “I’m not sure I can, dear, but I’ll try.” Anabel refreshed both their glasses with more of the tea.

  Jennifer nodded her thanks. “Can you look at these photos? Do you recognize the stone or statues?”

  Anabel flipped through the second set of photos slowly, studying each one carefully. When she finished, she said, “No, dear, I’m afraid not. Why?”

  “We’re trying to figure out where Devlin found them. We can’t find any records about them in his files.”

  “Why? Is it important?”

  Pointing at the picture of the black stone, Jennifer said, “Anlon’s concerned that no one will take Devlin’s discovery seriously if we can’t prove where this Stone originated. It’s called the Sinethal. He thinks other archaeologists will think it’s a hoax if we can’t show it was found in some temple or ruin, something like that.”

  Anabel’s eyes fluttered and she nodded her head. “Um, yes, they can be like that. Especially if it’s something controversial. What did you call the stone, dear?”

  “Oh, sorry, I’ve gotten used to calling them by their Munuorian names. Devlin called it the Master Stone. Does that ring a bell? Did he talk of it?”

  Anabel replaced the Sinethal picture on the table and lifted the one of the dragon-headed statue. “No, I don’t think so. I’m sorry, I’m a little confused. What kind of names?”

  “Moon-war-E-uns,” enunciated Jennifer. “It’s the name of the civilization that made the Stones.”

  “Oh, that’s curious.” Anabel’s eyes remained focused on the statue.

  “What’s that?”

  Anabel shook her head. “Devlin never mentioned names like that.”

  “Probably because he didn’t understand Malinyah,” Jennifer said.

  Anabel replaced the statue picture on the table and nodded.

  Jennifer stacked the pictures and asked, “When Devlin dropped off the map, when he asked you to keep it, did he say anything about the Stones? Anything at all?”

  “What? Oh, hmmm…let me think…No, no, I don’t think so. He was very agitated, he was worried about the map. That’s all I remember, I’m sorry.”

  While Anabel spoke, Jennifer sipped more of the pink tea. It seemed strange to her that Devlin would have left such a valuable document with Anabel without providing some kind of explanation. She tried a different tack. “No worries. Speaking of the map, we’re having a hard time figuring out how to use it. When you two talked about it, did he say anything about a key? A legend to read it?”

  “Hmmm…I remember him being very anxious about it, but I don’t think we discussed a key.”

  “Are you sure?” Jennifer asked.

  Anabel pulled at her lips and fiddled with her empty glass. “No, I’m certain I’d remember that.”

  “Oh, well, it was worth a shot.”

  For the next half hour, Jennifer chatted with Anabel about Devlin and the adventures the couple shared over their long relationship. Then they returned to the garden and Anabel proudly reviewed the wide assortment of flowers. All the while, butterflies large and small zoomed through the air.

  Anabel escorted Jennifer to the car and hugged her good-bye. As she was getting into the driver’s seat, Jennifer said, “Oh, I forgot my pictures!”

  “No problem, dear, I’ll go get them,” said Anabel.

  The woman walked back inside, teetering a little as she mounted the two front steps. A moment later, she returned with the snapshots of the Sinethal and statues. The pictures of Devlin and Anabel were not in the stack. Jennifer took the artifact pictures and thanked her through the open car window. “Oh, yeah, did you decide which of Devlin’s pictures you wanted to hold on to?” she asked.

  “I completely forgot about that. Can I think on it? I promise I’ll send back the others,” Anabel said.

  “Sure, no rush,” Jennifer said. “Anlon wanted to hold onto the others for the museum he’s planning to build in Devlin’s honor, but that’s a ways away.”

  Jennifer watched Anabel wave good-bye through the rearview mirror as she pulled onto the road. Checking the dashboard clock, she realized there was no way she would make it to Pittsfield in time for her meeting with George Grant. At the first stoplight, she picked up her phone to call Grant and reschedule. As she waited for the call to connect, Jennifer thought of the conversation with Anabel and sighed. “Why did she lie?”

  CHAPTER 10

  FIND YOUR GENSAE

  Incline Village, Nevada

  August 12

  When Pebbles arrived in the hall, Malinyah was there already, as if she’d been waiting for Pebbles to return. She smiled broadly and opened her arms. They walked to each other and warmly embraced.

  Pebbles closed her eyes as Malinyah’s arms wrapped around her. The fresh scent of Malinyah’s hair was just as Pebbles remembered. She squeezed Malinyah tightly and said, “I’ve missed you so much.”

  There was a healing quality in the embrace, one that quickly chased away the emptiness Pebbles felt during the long separation.

  “I am happy you’ve returned, Alynioria,” said Malinyah. While she spoke, she stroked Pebbles’ hair. “Your spirit is full of light. It fills me with joy.”

  “It was so hard to be away from you,” answered Pebbles. “You can’t believe how good it feels to see you again.”

  Separating from the embrace, Malinyah peered into Pebbles’ eyes and nodded. “Come, let’s walk outside in the sunshine.”

  Hand in hand, they left the great hall and descended the marble steps. Outside, the landscape brimmed with color. In the field sloping away from the hall, deep-blue Alynioria flowers rippled in a light wind. Each time the wind ruffled their petals, dozens of golden butterflies drifted up from the flowers and then slowly floated back down.

  Beyond the field, the descending terrain continued until it met a beach bordering shimmering, azure waters. On each side of the beach stood tall cliffs capped with patches of bright orange and green foliage.

  Malinyah led Pebbles onto a red clay path, just like the one leading to the Seybalrosa shrine. Only, the Seybalrosa tree was nowhere to be seen. And unlike the wet, clammy feeling that her toes experienced before, this time the path was warm and dusty against her feet. The sensation triggered a thought Pebbles hadn’t focused on in her earlier visits with Malinyah: she was barefoot.

  This caused her to look down as they walked along the path. Then Pebbles realized she wasn’t wearing the tank top and Daisy Dukes that adorned her body outside of the vision. Instead, she was clad in a tunic much like Malinyah’s. It was cream in color, with piping of dark blue and gold speckles. Sleeveless and knee-length, the tunic tapered from her shoulders to her waist. From there, it hung loosely around her hips and thighs. Pebbles silently wondered, Have I always been dressed like this when I’m with her?

  Rather than question the different attire, Pebbles decided to roll with it. It was kind of fun to think of herself as a Munuorian. She squeezed Malinyah’s hand and smiled at her friend as they followed the path on its way to the cliff on the left side of the Alynioria field.

  Along the cliff’s ridge were hosts of windswept trees and stubby bushes. And there were rocks. Lots and lots of rusty-colored rocks. Pebbles halted on the path and let go of Malinyah’s hand. She pushed long, golden locks from her vision and gazed out at the vast ocean. Salt air, whipping in the wind, filled her nostrils. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and felt the tunic fluttering against her thighs and chest and the warm sun on her face. The sensations were so real, so vivid.

  When she opened her eyes, Malinyah stood in a gap between the rocks and waved for Pebbles to join her. Leaving the path, Pebbles headed toward Malinyah across spongy grass that tickled her toes. As she neared the gap, her attention was drawn to a massive volcano further down the coastline. Barr
en and black, the volcano was so tall, its peak was shrouded by clouds.

  The gap where Malinyah stood turned out to be a landing for a set of precisely carved steps that led down to a wide ledge upon which tables and chairs were set. As they descended the stairs, Pebbles noticed the ledge was not a natural formation. It had been carved into a bowl-shaped veranda. Into its back wall, the Munuorians had embedded a wide variety of seashells. They were unlike any Pebbles had seen. Some had spots, others were striped, but all glittered with vibrant colors.

  The veranda held two other interesting features. One was a doorway that led into the cliff. Through this doorway was a long, well-lit tunnel with murals painted on its walls. The other feature was the most unexpected. There were other people seated at tables on the veranda. They were gaily chatting while eating and drinking under the shade provided by the cliff’s shadow.

  Malinyah guided Pebbles to an open table where they sat side by side. On the table was a glass pitcher filled with pinkish watery fluid. Next to it sat a bowl with fresh-cut fruit. Malinyah poured two glasses and handed one to Pebbles. The glass was heavy and its lip thick. Pebbles thanked Malinyah and asked about the drink.

  “It is called enjyia. It is nectar from flowers that grow near the slopes of our volcanos, like Tumaera,” said Malinyah, pointing to the volcano Pebbles spotted earlier.

  Pebbles sniffed the light floral bouquet and asked, “Will I be able to taste it?”

  “Drink and see,” Malinyah said with a smile.

  Raising the glass to her lips, Pebbles sipped the enjyia. The fluid’s consistency was thin and silky. The flavor was sweet, yet carried an earthy bite. It reminded Pebbles of herbal tea. As she swallowed the enjyia, the back of her throat tingled.

  “That’s so cool,” Pebbles said. “I can’t believe I can taste your memories of enjyia!”

  “Wait until you try the fruit. Especially the purple one. That’s my favorite,” Malinyah replied.