Paranormal Mystery Boxset Books 1-3: Legends of Treasure

by Lois D. Brown

  Derrick began to protest.

  Tom didn’t let him get a word in. “I thought I was getting shot at because of Dakota’s murder, not because you and a bunch of other misfits want to play treasure hunting.”

  “Is that why you were saying Dakota’s name up in the mountains?” asked Beth.

  “Yes. I was worried we’d gotten ourselves into trouble with whoever killed Dakota. But clearly it was all just a game!” With each word Tom’s voice rose higher.

  Melissa reached out a hand and placed it on the arm of Tom’s chair, ready to hold the private detective back if he took a sudden violent lurch for Derrick.

  “I should give you a taste of your own medicine.” Tom threw his fork at Derrick. It clattered onto a plate. “I was practically eaten alive by ants! Did you know that? Did you take pictures of that too?”

  “Dude, take it easy,” said Brian, pouring Tom a glass of wine. “Drink this.” He handed it to Tom, who took a sip and sat back down.

  “This is getting a little wild here. My kind of party.” It was Brian’s attempt at a joke.

  Dakota’s ghost had scooted away from the table and was now perched in the window sill.

  “I’d better take the next turn before I hit Rep. Lankin’s liquor cabinet over there.” Brian took a file folder out of his laptop bag and handed it to the representative. “In there you’ll find Rod’s will and other legal documents. I’m afraid none of it is very informative. He hasn’t touched it since after his marriage to Dakota. She got a chunk of his money and the rest went to several charities. With no wife in the picture, his money now reverts back to his parents. Those two are so loaded, I can’t imagine they’d pick off their own daughter-in-law, even if they didn’t like her.”

  Grant bristled but stayed quiet.

  “One other thing.” Brian pursed his lips, the semblance of seriousness on his face. “When Rod got married he came to me in confidence and told me Dakota had been married before. The guy had been a real jerk, and she’d gotten the marriage annulled. Rod wanted to make sure Dakota’s ex wouldn’t be a legal problem down the road. He didn’t want him showing up out of the woodwork and harassing Dakota in any way. I looked into it for him to put his mind to rest. The man didn’t have any legal claim to Dakota’s physical assets. But …” He pointed to the photograph of the woman with Dakota. “… maybe he had a jealous streak or had a new wife who didn’t want to play second best. People are weird that way.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Rep. Lankin. “Can you get Melissa the man’s name?”

  “Absolutely.” Brian typed something into his cell phone. “I’ll dig it up on my computer at the office tomorrow morning.”

  Melissa was frowning … in a good sort of way. “That is very interesting, Brian.” More frowns. “Very interesting. Something else that we kept out of the news when Dakota disappeared was that someone tried to blackmail Rod. The police didn’t want to leak that information. They hoped to use it to find Dakota, but then all communication stopped. They eventually said it had been a hoax. Some even accused Rod of setting up the fake blackmail himself to throw everyone off the scent. But what if it hadn’t been a hoax? What if it was connected to this ex-husband of Dakota’s?”

  Maria glanced at the ghost, who seemed to have lost interest in the conversation. Did she think it was her former husband? Or his new wife? Dakota wandered about the room, looking through the glass panes into a corner china hutch.

  Melissa huffed. “That might explain why Dakota wrote that stuff about Rod in her journal. Maybe her ex-husband threatened to kill her if she didn’t. Maybe it was his idea all along to set up Dakota’s death as if Rod killed her, and then blackmail Rod to keep quiet.”

  It wasn’t a bad theory. Most everyone in the room liked it, especially because it put all the blame on strangers. But Tom didn’t seem to buy it. “Then why not carry through with the plan? That took a lot of work to orchestrate. Why did the blackmail stop?”

  Melissa tapped her wine glass with her fingernail. “I don’t know. I just don’t know … unless—”

  All of a sudden, the lights in the dining room flicked and went black. There had been no loud noise. No clack of thunder. Just immediate total darkness.

  Confused voices from the kitchen staff next to the dining room indicated power was off in the whole house.

  “What on earth!” exclaimed Rep. Lankin, an edge in his voice. “This hasn’t happened befo—”

  One loud cough.

  Gasping.

  A gag.

  Then silence.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Apache’s hiding place was a natural fortress—an immense cave, with but a single entrance. It was located at the very lip of an impassable gorge. The Apaches felt their cave with its restricted entrance would secure them from the cavalry rifles. Direct firing into the cave was impossible because of the right angle turn the steep trail made as it approached the entrance. Soon, however, it was discovered that a sloping granite slab overhung the entrance to the Apaches’ hideout, and bullets fired at the slab would deflect into the cave.

  “FOOL’S GOLD,” BY ROBERT SIKORSKY, GOLDEN WEST PUBLISHERS, 1983, PAGE 49.

  The LED light bulb from the flashlight Maria grabbed out of her backpack cast an unnatural light around the room. The first thing she noticed was that Dakota’s ghost had vanished. The second thing was that the Keepers’ photograph was no longer on the table. The third thing was that Derrick had both of his own hands around his neck in the universal sign for choking.

  “The Heimlich!” yelled Maria. “Derrick needs the Heimlich!”

  By the time Maria ran around the table to Derrick’s seat, Tom was already there. He was tugging underneath Derrick’s armpits, trying to get him to stand up.

  “Get up!” barked Maria. “You’ve got to stand up, now!”

  The lumbering giant pushed himself up. Tom reached his arms around Derrick from behind, fisted both hands, and shoved them below Derrick’s breastbone, pulling in and up.

  Once.

  Twice.

  On the third time, a chunk flew out of Derrick’s mouth, narrowly missing Rep. Lankin’s head, and landed ten feet away from the table.

  “What on earth was that?” hollered Melissa.

  Just then the lights flickered on to full brightness.

  Beth ran to the object and picked it up with her napkin. “It’s a piece of chicken.” She laid the offending piece of meat on the table.

  Derrick sucked air into his lungs and then began coughing. “I-I h-hate it when I do that,” he said. His comments triggered a chain reaction of laughter.

  “I seriously thought we were all going to die.” Melissa giggled. “Like we’d all been called here on purpose so the murderer could kills us.”

  More laughter.

  Tom patted Derrick on the back, their argument from before forgotten. “You okay, big guy?”

  Derrick nodded and spoke, still breathless. “Y-yes. I owe you one. When the lights went off I had put a bite in my mouth. The darkness surprised me and I guess I forgot to chew.”

  As the laughter began to wind down, Brian noted, “Do you guys know what? It was kind of like that Agatha Christie mystery. You know, when everyone goes to an island and then one by one they kill each other off. What was it called again?”

  “And Then There Were None,” said Rep. Lankin. “Great book.”

  “Yes,” agreed Maria. “It was a great book.” As she put her flashlight away she asked, “Where did the Keepers’ photograph of Dakota go?”

  “It was right here—” Melissa reached out but then stopped. The picture was gone. “Oh, it must have gotten knocked off onto the floor.”

  A ten-minute search ensued, turning up nothing.

  As Maria guessed it would.

  Someone in the room had taken the photograph, which meant one thing.

  Someone felt guilty.

  After an unsettled night and a second call to her friend at the CIA, Maria walked thro
ugh the hallways of the mental health facility where Rod was being “treated.” Grant and Beth had stopped at the judicial office before coming, so she was by herself except for the guard who escorted her.

  Outside Rod’s room stood another guard who’d clearly had too long of a shift. His shoulders slumped and his eyes blinked in slow motion. He jumped to attention, however, when the door behind him opened and a doctor exited Rod’s room.

  Just her luck. It was the same one Maria had discussed Rod’s condition with the day before. He scratched his chin and stared past her, into nothing.

  Maria expected something a little more along the lines of utter disdain and total disgust. Not complete dismissal.

  The doctor turned back around to write something on the chart on Rod’s door. Maria squinted to see what it said, but she was too far away. Checking his watch, he grunted and was about to scurry away.

  Maria stepped directly in his path. “Hello. Maria Branson here. I’m with the Kanab police department, and we’re here investigating the—”

  “Aren’t you the lady who chewed me out yesterday?” He glanced back at the room number on the door as if recalling a bad memory.

  “Yes. Yes I did. I’d had some bad news and I let myself—”

  “Well, you were right.”

  “What?” Maria felt adrenaline rush down her back into her arms and legs. “Right about what?”

  “His fever’s up. Significantly. The patient has some sort of infection. Whether or not he’s got an additional neuroses, I’m not sure.”

  “What kind of an infection is it?” Maria bit her lip.

  “Not sure. We ran blood tests through the night and came up empty handed. We’ve got him on the strongest antibiotic available, but it’s not bringing the fever down. His face is starting to swell. It’s quite odd. Has anyone around him been sick?”

  “Nobody,” Maria answered.

  The doctor nodded. “It’s a bit of a mystery. I’m sure it’s not contagious, but I made a note and we’re going to quarantine the room just to follow protocol.”

  “Can I see him? I’ll wear gloves. A mask. I promise not to touch him. Whatever it takes.”

  The doctor sternly looked her up and down “It’s your call. You’ll already be on a medical watch since you were here yesterday.”

  “Not a problem. Thanks.” Maria rushed past the doctor and into Rod’s room.

  Her promise not to touch Rod wouldn’t be hard to keep. It was as if a tornado had ravaged him from the inside out. His coloring was all wrong. The skin around his neck and collar bone hung loosely. Dry, parched lips contrasted with his inflamed cheeks and eye sockets. To top it all off, he wore the ugliest green hospital gown ever created. It had fresh wet stains on the front down his chest. Couldn’t be puke. He hadn’t eaten in forever. Or had it only been a few days? It was horrific to see what the human body could be reduced to in so little time.

  Who had done this to him?

  Today he had significantly more tubing running in and out of appendages. An additional monitor was by the head of his bed. On one of the IV bags was printed the name of the medicine they were giving him. Maria texted the name to Ms. Tuttle with a rundown of all his other symptoms.

  Maria felt desperate. Helpless. So frustrated.

  But those feelings were not helping the situation. They only succeeded in putting extra negativity into the room, as if Rod needed any more of that.

  What would Dr. Roberts do if he were here?

  The answer was simple. He’d tell her the best way to change her feelings was to change her thoughts.

  She looked at the clock on the wall. She had five minutes left to turn the yucky feeling in this room around. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the guard in the corner of the room, she untucked the sheets from around Rod’s feet. He actually had quite good-looking toes. Manly, but not too big or pudgy. His nails were well trimmed and white. In fact, at this particular moment in time, Rod’s big toe was probably his most attractive feature. It seemed to be the least affected by whatever was eating away at the rest of his body.

  Maria wrapped her fingers around the toe and determinedly held on, forcing herself to remember happier times.

  A picnic two weeks ago on the top of one of Kanab’s picturesque red bluffs flooded her mind. After the meal, Rod had pulled out a car magazine for him and a gun magazine for her. They’d spent their lunch hour plus some on the plateau, looking down on the city and talking about what they would buy if they had an extra ten thousand to spend on anything they’d wanted.

  It’d been spontaneous. Relaxed. So Rod-like. And the kissing hadn’t been bad either.

  Warmth rushed through Maria as she remembered the way Rod had scooted closer, prying the gun magazine out of her hands so he could nuzzle her cheek. She’d pretended not to like it, pushing him away, asking him why he was always so touchy.

  Undeterred, Rod had defiantly looked her in the eyes and said, “Just try and tell me you don’t like this.”

  Then he’d gently slid his arm around her back, pulled her slowly to him, and carefully, expertly, pressed his lips against her skin, right below the jaw bone in the hollow of her neck. The sensation had set her insides ablaze and she’d gasped.

  It would have been impossible not to have made some sort of sound.

  No one was that good of an actress.

  Of course, afterward she’d refused to admit to anything. But Rod must have known. Right? He must have known she liked it. That she liked him. That she found him to be the most attractive man she’d ever been with. That she looked forward to his touch. That she devoured the time with him. That her heart sped up at the mere sight of him.

  But, no, she hadn’t said one word. Just the gasp. She’d kept it a secret because . . .

  Why exactly?

  It all seemed so stupid now. So immature. Such a waste of precious time together.

  Dr. Roberts had told her to get over herself. He’d said her fear of intimacy wasn’t about the other person. It was about fear of herself, of losing control.

  He’d been right at the time, but not anymore. She was through putting up walls to maintain control. She was ready to take the risk. To make herself vulnerable.

  Maria opened her eyes, not realizing she’d shut them. Everything was the same.

  Except her.

  Keeping hold of his toe, Maria looked at Rod’s swollen face, so puffy his eyes couldn’t have opened if he’d tried. How she wished she’d told him how she felt when he could have actually heard her. But it didn’t matter. It was never too late for what she planned on saying. Security guard in the room or not.

  “Rod?”

  No answer, of course.

  “Rod, I’m sorry I pushed you away before. I was just scared. But Rod, please, you have to get better. I need you to get better. You mean everything to me. Absolutely everything.”

  Her body tensed, waiting for the sky to fall.

  But it didn’t.

  The earth continued turning on its axis. The heart monitor in the corner of the room kept beeping. And the security guard actually burped. Barely audible, but definitely a burp.

  However, Maria …

  Maria was different.

  Seconds later a nurse walked into Rod’s room dressed in gloves, a mask, the whole nine yards. “Everyone out. You’ll be escorted to a room down the hall where your name and information will be taken and you’ll be put on medical watch. Everything in here goes into the garbage.” With that, she picked up the only thing that was actually Rod’s and threw it into the trash can.

  It was the gallon-sized Ziploc bag full of personal toiletries that Brian had taken to Rod the first day he’d spent in jail. In it was his toothbrush, high-end deodorant, contact case and the blue and white plastic bottle of contact solution it had taken Rod forever to find during their trip to Walmart.

  That was another good memory. They seemed to be coming in tidal waves now. Every experience the two of them had managed to fit into the last several mont
hs. Maria had enjoyed the trip to Walmart because it had felt like something an old married couple would do. Two people who felt so comfortable together they could discuss their most personal information, like what kind of make-up remover she preferred and what brand of contact solution Rod insisted on buying—

  A tingle at the back of Maria’s neck. Slow at first then growing exponentially.

  “This poor fellow looks miserable. I hate to move him, but they want him transferred to the ICU at Phoenix General.” The nurse was taping more of Rod’s IV tube to his arm, getting him ready to transport. “Can you two find your way out and to room 307?”

  Maria waited for the guard in the corner to be the first one out. He walked past Rod and in front of Maria, pulling open the door and holding it for her.

  By now, the skin on Maria’s neck might as well have been on fire. What was her subconscious trying to tell her?

  She breathed in deeply, looking around the room one more time to see what was amiss and then walked to the door, passing the garbage can as she went. She looked into it and the burning on her neck stopped.

  The bottle of contact solution.

  Maria knew.

  Rod had purchased a green and white bottle of contact solution that day in Walmart. Why then, had Brian taken a blue and white one to Rod in jail? Everything else in the Ziploc bag was Rod’s. It was the same toothbrush he’d brought with him. The same deodorant he used. But not the same contact solution.

  There was a reason. There had to be.

  Maria looked back at Rod’s distorted, misshapen face. What was in that solution? A bacteria of some sort? One that could infect someone though open eye ducts, perhaps?

  It was direct method of infection, not invasive, and it wouldn’t harm anyone else but Rod.

  And Brian was the one who gave the contact solution to him.

  Maria had to get the bottle. But trying to go through the proper channels would take forever, and she didn’t have that kind of time. Well, technically she had plenty of time. But Rod didn’t. And that’s what mattered.