by Jane Hinchey
Although we had the backup of Remy. I could hear her scribbling something into the notebook she had resting on the energy-reading device. I wasn't sure if she was writing directions or just notes on the cave structure or things she observed. To me this was all dark rock of little interest, but to someone like Remy it must be a treasure trove of delight. After what felt like hours we finally arrived at our destination. Another cave with its own built-in skylight.
“Here we are, folks. This—as far as I know—is where the Joneses concentrated their efforts.” Nigel stood, hands on hips, and peered around in the dim light. We still needed torches, but the light peeking through the small hole above us was enough to lift the pitch-black darkness.
“Really?” The trace of skepticism in Remy's voice had my head snapping in her direction. I trusted her judgement over Nigel’s.
“Like I said, as far as I know.” Nigel shrugged, unconcerned whether or not Remy believed him. As far as he was concerned, he'd done his job. He gave a talk on the origins of the caves, how inland Australia was once an ocean, and where we were standing was once underwater. He talked of stalactites and stalagmites and then bid us farewell, reminding us to follow the glow sticks out, and to pick them up as we did so.
“What do you think?” I asked Remy, who was studying an area of the rock wall.
“I call bullshit,” she said, not bothering to look up. “I don't know if he is lying intentionally, or if this is where he believes your parents were working, but I can say for a fact they were not working here.”
“Oh?”
“Look around.” She straightened and indicated the cave. “What do you see?”
“A cave?” I said tentatively.
She grinned. “And what else? Beyond rocks and dirt.” She paused, waiting while I looked. Honestly? I didn't see what she was seeing.
“It's what's missing,” she finally said. “Your parents’ gear. If they were excavating fossils and rocks and things, their gear would be here. They wouldn't cart it in and out. They treated this like a normal expedition, meaning they'd have a crate of tools with them, lamps, supplies. None of that is here.”
“Maybe they took it back to camp? When they knew they were coming home, they would have packed up?” I pointed out.
“But they didn't know.” Remy jumped on it. “You called them in the middle of the night, right? They jumped online, booked tickets, packed up and hit the road, heading to Adelaide ready to take that flight home. They wouldn't have come down to the caves to collect their gear. That would have taken up hours of valuable time. They fully intended to come back and continue on with this expedition once they sorted their business back home.”
Jenna joined us. “So, you're saying either they were here, and someone has taken their gear, or this isn't the area they were working.”
“I'm saying this isn't the area they were working. This is one of Nigel’s typical tour destinations because of the skylight. It's been trampled through dozens of times, picked at, photographed to death. There are no archeological surprises here.”
“He lied,” I said grimly. “So, we're no closer to finding my parents.”
“Not necessarily. This gadget, the one that searches for energy signatures, I can try to track them through this. If they were off the beaten path, so to speak, there could be remnants of their energy left behind, enough for me to pick up.”
Jenna was nodding. “And it probably won't work here—not for what we want—because this is a heavily populated area!”
Remy was nodding. “Exactly! I think Nigel led us away from where your parents were working.”
“Why would he do that?” I mused. “Do you think he has them?”
Remy shrugged. “It could be something more mundane. Did you notice how chummy he is with Omar? Maybe Omar slipped him some dollars to lead us away, giving him time to find the scroll.”
“What do you think?” I asked Blake, who was touching the cave wall a few feet away. “You're the lawyer with razor sharp instincts. Was Nigel lying?”
“Hmmm?” Blake didn't turn from his inspection of the rock face. “Have you seen this?” he asked, ignoring my question altogether. “It's so pretty. And wonderfully amazing.” Remy shone a torch on what he was looking at. A fossil of what appeared to be a combination of a butterfly with a fish. It could have been either.
“Not helping, Tennant,” Remy muttered. To me and Jenna she said, “I say we head in the other direction.”
“Towards the cave-in?” Jenna said.
“But was there really a cave-in? Or was that another ruse to throw us off the scent, to keep us away from that particular area?”
“I promise I won't lead us into a cave-in. We'll head in that general direction, if I pick up any energy signatures, we'll follow it.”
“It could be picking up Omar and Tamir though,” I pointed out.
“Uh yeah, who were clearly following your parents around,” Jenna replied. “I'm with Remy. Let's go.”
We were across the cave and heading out the tunnel when I realized Blake was still at the rock wall oohing and ahhing over the fossil. Seriously?
“Blake!” I called, annoyance tinging my voice. “Come on.”
He glanced up in surprise. “Oh? We're going? Okay. Bye-bye butterfly.” And he pressed a kiss to his fingers and pressed them against the fossil. Oh, my good lord, what was wrong with him?
Chapter Eleven
“Hold up!” Remy raised her fist in the air, and we all staggered to a halt behind her. “This isn't right,” she muttered. We were at an intersection of tunnels and a glow stick lay on the ground showing we should go left.
“What's up?” Moving to stand by her side, I looked left, then right. Both tunnels looked the same. I studied the map Nigel had given me.
Remy snatched it from my hand and turned it over before giving it back. “You're looking at it upside down,” she said by way of explanation. “And that map is useless,” she added, voice filled with disdain. “It doesn't show half of the detail. It's a glossy keepsake for tourists, nothing more.”
“So, what do we do then?”
“I've been using this to map as we go.” She tapped the other gadget attached to her belt. “It reads the land formations around us and has been creating a 3D map ever since we entered the caves. Between that and my own sense of direction, that is not the exit.” She pointed to the left, then let her arm drop. “Someone moved the glow stick.”
“Say what now?” Jenna shone her torch on the ground where the glow stick lay, then to the opposite side where it should have been. There were scuffed footprints but nothing discernable. Did Nigel move the glow stick? Or was someone else down here? Someone like Omar, who would do anything to stop us from finding the scroll. Little did he know I couldn't give a damn about the scroll. All I wanted was my parents.
“But...” I chewed my lip. “We don't want to go toward the exit, do we? I thought you wanted to go north?”
“We have to head toward the exit first. There was another tunnel branching off early on, we need to take that one.”
“Well, I trust you. Lead the way!” Jenna said.
“Agreed.” I scooped up the glow stick, then nearly jumped out of my skin when Blake tapped me on the shoulder.
“Can I have that?” he asked.
I looked at the glow stick in surprise and then handed it to him. “Sure.”
“It's so pretty,” he said under his breath. I think I'd scrambled his brain when I took him astral-walking, that was the only reason I could think of for his strange behavior. I'd have to talk to Gran about it when we got back, see what she thought.
“Let's go then.” Remy turned right, and we followed. I dropped back, letting Blake move ahead of me, purely so I could keep an eye on him. I didn't trust that he wouldn't wander off or stop to look at something pretty.
Remy set a mean pace; I was actually sweating by the time we arrived at our destination.
“This is more like it,” she said, hurrying ac
ross a wide cavern, her sharp eyes picking up something on the other side. I was standing, directing my torch at the roof of the cave, awed by its size, when lights flickered on.
“Lights?” My eyes snapped to Remy who was standing next to a spotlight on a metal frame, beneath it a large, square, battery. Next to it a folding chair and a box, a water bottle and a canvas tarp spread on the ground like a picnic rug. “Is this it?” I practically ran over, Jenna hot on my heels.
Remy was beaming. “This”—she indicated the surrounding items—“is your parents’ setup. This is where they were working.”
“Cool.” Blake sprawled in the chair, a collection of glow sticks clasped in his fist. Remy raised a brow but said nothing.
“Your machine picking anything up?” I asked.
She held it out in front of her and walked the perimeter of the cave. The light was flashing, and she was reading the screen before returning to us with a puzzled look on her face. “It's going crazy. Like...they're here. They are standing here.” She pointed the machine at the middle of the cave, and we all looked at the empty space.
“Mom? Dad?” I called, my voice echoing off the walls. Nothing. I walked toward the center of the cave, hands out, expecting to bump into some invisible barrier at any moment, but it didn't happen; I walked right through.
“This is weird,” Remy said, frowning at her device before tapping the side. Hard. “Maybe it's on the fritz.”
Seeing the disappointment on my face, Jenna wrapped an arm around my waist and squeezed. “Hey, the silver lining, we found where they were working.”
“You're right.” I nodded, swallowing my disappointment and squaring my shoulders. “So, what have we got?” I joined Remy who was rummaging in the box. She laid out a small pick, trowel, brush, the usual things I'd seen my parents use for excavating fossils and artifacts.
“How did they get all this in here?” Jenna asked. “It must've been heavy.”
“They have a trolley,” I said absently, pulling out a jacket my mother wore and hugging it to my face, breathing in her scent.
“It's not here now,” Jenna pointed out, her torch seeking and finding the wheel marks the trolley had left.
I dropped the jacket back into the box when a notebook fell out of the pocket. Remy picked it up, slowly flicking through the pages. “Cool,” she said, more to herself than to us.
“What is it?” I asked, and she glanced up at me.
“Your dad's notes. Your mom’s were back in the trailer—this is the most recent one. But get this. They think this cave is an ante-chamber, and that”—she looked from the notebook to the cave, slowly turned, then pointed—“is the entry point to the next chamber.”
“And is that where they think it is? The copper pyramid? Beyond that rock wall?” We both crossed to the wall in question and stood looking at it.
Remy ran her hands over it, frowning. “There's something I’m not seeing.”
“Besides the fact that the trolley tracks go right up to that rock face and disappear?” Jenna commented, her torch shining on the marks in the dirt.
I gasped. “Do you think they could be on the other side? Trapped?” I raised my hands and pushed against the rock. It was cold, hard, and didn't budge.
“I guess it's possible.” Remy studied the track marks. “Let's just say we can't rule anything out.”
“I'm hungry,” Blake complained from his spot sprawled in the chair. “Can we go now?”
“How about you come over here and help?” I snapped, and he looked at me with hurt eyes. Oh, good grief. It was like he was regressing, from a full-grown man to a child. Sullenly he got out of the chair and slinked his way over to us, clearly not happy.
“What?” he grumbled. Remy and I eyeballed each other. His weird behavior was escalating.
“Can you feel any magic?” I asked him, “Is there an energy field here?”
I hadn't been able to detect anything myself, but maybe Blake could pick it up. After all, his special gift as a fae was manipulating energy. He could use it as a weapon or a shield, so if anyone was using something similar, he should be able to identify it.
With an exaggerated sigh he popped a hip, rested one hand on it, and with a toss of his head placed his other hand against the rock face, rolled his eyes to the ceiling and appeared to concentrate. Dropping his hand, he said, “Got nothing. Can we go now?”
I looked to Remy. “Do you have everything you need?”
She nodded. “I'll take the notebook back with us. Just let me take some photos and then we can go.” As she moved away, she whispered under her breath, “What is with him?”
I whispered back, “I think something happened when I used his magic to help me astral-walk. But I'd no idea that was possible, or what has happened. I will talk to Gran about it when we get back, see if we can't get him back to normal.”
After finishing up at the caves we collected Gran and headed into town, surprised at the level of activity that greeted us when we pulled up outside the hotel.
“Finally!” Blake grumbled, glow sticks still clutched in his hand. “I'm starving.” He headed into the hotel without waiting for us.
“I wonder what's going on?” Jenna asked, eyeballing the cars parked in the street. There had to be over fifty. On previous visits we'd be lucky if there were five. People gathered on the sidewalk, swatting flies and talking. I saw Petrina hurrying in our direction, her eyes red.
“Petrina? What's wrong?”
Wiping her fingers under her eyes, she drew in a shuddering breath. “Gosh, sorry.” She sniffed. “You guys here for lunch? Manny is inside, he'll take care of you.”
“Wait.” I rested my hand on her arm. “What's happened?”
She hesitated for a second, then blurted, “Someone has murdered my friend Beth.” Her voice wobbled and the tears she'd been trying to hold back overflowed.
“Oh, no!” I gasped, wrapping her in a hug, “I'm so sorry.”
Remy and Jenna made comforting noises, rubbing their hands up and down Petrina's back in support and comfort. “What happened?” Jenna kept her voice low.
“I can't believe it.” Petrina's whole body shook. “Why would someone do something so awful? That poor girl.”
“What did they do?” Jenna pressed.
“Beth was getting married next month,” Petrina told us, “She was so happy and so excited. And then this morning her fiancé found her. Stabbed.”
“In the chest?” Jenna asked.
“Why yes? How did you know that?” Petrina sniffed, startled.
“Because one of the tourists at the caravan park was killed the same way,” Jenna said.
Petrina slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my goodness, that's right. That young fellow, one of the treasure hunters. He came into the hotel a lot. I think he was sweet on Kaylee.”
“Oh?” Jenna prompted.
“Only his friend didn't like it. I'd seen them arguing a time or two. Well, I assume it was about Kaylee. I'd caught them out the back canoodling.”
“Canoodling? As in kissing?”
Petrina nodded. “But this is awful. First him. Now Beth. Who could do this? And why?”
“That's what I'm trying to find out.” The deep voice of Senior Sergeant Mick Gould startled us all. “Ladies,” he greeted us, “can I remind you I need you to come to the station to go over your statements.”
“We're just grabbing lunch and will be right over,” Remy assured him. Petrina hurried away, wiping at her face as she did so.
“Two murders in two days,” Mick said, studying us intently. “All around the time you lot arrive in town.”
“What?” I gasped, hand to my chest. “You can't suspect us. We don't even know who this Beth woman is!”
“Just making an observation,” he drawled, then touched a finger to the brim of his hat. “Make sure you swing by the station as soon as you're done. I wasn't kidding about those statements. And I have more questions.”
Great. Now there had been a
nother death—the second stage of the ritual had been completed—and the local law enforcement thought we were suspects.
“I wonder if he's single?” Gran was watching Mick walk away, her eyes glued to his butt.
Shaking my head, I linked my arm with hers. “Come on, let's go eat. Blake isn't the only one who's starving.”
Chapter Twelve
Lunch was uneventful. The police station, not so much. Gran had set the tone by asking Mick if a) he was single, and b) would he be interested in a pole dancing demonstration. The look on his face had been priceless.
“You may need a chaperone when you interview her.” I felt obliged to point out, “Gran has a thing for men in uniform. Who am I kidding? She has a thing for men in general.”
“It's true.” Gran winked, her thick lash extensions brushing her cheek. “You're the best thing about this whole trip.”
Mick cleared his throat. “Maybe the two of you should come in together.” He held the door open and Gran sauntered in ahead of me, making sure her shoulder brushed against his chest as she passed him.
“Sorry,” I whispered, mortified.
By the time Mick sat opposite us he'd regained his composure. He opened a file, pulled out a sheet of paper and slid it across the table, then slid a different one toward Gran. “Read these. They are your statements from yesterday. Are they correct? Is there anything you want to add? Something you've remembered?”
I quickly scanned the typed-up page. “Remember how you asked me to check to see if anything else was missing from my parents’ trailer?” I asked. He nodded. “Well....it may be nothing, but I found an empty ring box—and before you say anything, just know that my mom rarely wears jewelry. She will on special occasions, but day-to-day she doesn't.”