“Gotcha,” her mother responded. “I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
Maria paused. Why was she so nervous? “I don’t really know how to ask this,” she began, “so I’m just going to say it. Am I adopted?”
“Are you what?”
“Adopted. Am I your biological daughter?”
The noise of dish washing stopped. “You’re right. I wasn’t expecting that. But no, you’re not adopted. I remember well the day you squirmed your way out of me. It hurt, trust me. You weighed more than nine pounds.”
Relief and disappointment spread through Maria at the same time. For some reason, she had thought that if she were adopted that might explain how she had gotten the Sight. Maybe it was genetic. She did have the darkest hair and skin in her family. Maybe she was part Native American.
“And,” continued her mother, “just in case you’re wondering, you are also your father’s biological daughter.”
The running water had come back on.
“I wasn’t wondering about that, Mom.” Even though Maria was an adult, her face blushed at the thought of her mom having a baby with anyone else but Dad. There were just some things you didn’t want to think about your parents.
“Well, I wanted to make sure you weren’t left wondering. Honestly, sweetie, I’m not sure what put the idea into your head that you were adopted, but let it rest. If you had been adopted I would’ve told you. I wouldn’t hide that sort of thing.”
So there it was. Maria was just as confused and bewildered as ever.
“Mom, I was 99.9 percent sure that was going to be your answer, but some weird things have been happening lately, and I just thought that maybe … I don’t know … maybe it was because I was adopted.”
“What sort of weird things?” The concern in her mother’s voice rose.
The last thing Maria wanted to do was make her mom worry. “It’s nothing, really. I’m not sick or anything. I promise. I just have a couple of odd … tendencies … I wondered where they came from.”
“You’ll have to ask your father,” her mother said, a playful lilt to her voice. “He’s the genetic mutant. I mean, have you seen his earlobes?”
Maria laughed.
“Sweetie, now that we cleared up the adoption question, is there anything else I could help you with? I could get used to calls from you during the week.”
“Nope, that was it, but I’ll try to call more. And, by the way, Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I wanted to let you know Beth Hill’s oldest child has been kidnapped. In Kanab. It’s awful.”
The water stopped, again.
“That’s horrible, Maria. When did it happen?”
“Last night. Early this morning, actually. We’re going to get him back. The FBI is already here.”
“Beth is such a darling girl. And Kanab! Nothing like that ever happens in Kanab. Your grandparents must be turning over in their graves.”
“I know. But I gotta go.”
“Okay, let’s talk later. Text me when you find him.”
“I will. And, Mom, can I ask you for a favor?”
“Of course.”
“You know I’m not the praying type, but could you give a little prayer for Justin? I’m sure he’s feeling so scared right now.”
Her mother’s voice softened. “What makes you think I’m the praying type?”
Maria didn’t miss a beat. “I made it home from Tehran, didn’t I?”
“Yes. Yes you did,” her mother answered in a whisper.
“I’ve always credited that to you.” A lump formed unexpectedly in Maria’s throat.
The phone line was quiet a moment, then her mother spoke again. “I’ll say a prayer for Justin. And Beth. Please tell them I love them.”
“I will.” Maria cleared her throat. “And Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.” Shakily, Maria hung up the call. She had to get Justin back.
CHAPTER TEN
“‘When it comes to human remains, those are very, very sacred,’ said the director of Utah’s Office of Indian Affairs. He said some Indians believe serious consequences can follow when sacred grounds are disrupted. ‘There have been instances in our history where exposure to human remains and any kind of disrespect or negative energy associated with them has resulted in unexplained deaths and some disastrous consequences."
“MODERN-DAY PROJECT DISRUPTS ANCIENT BURIAL SITE IN KANAB” BY JOHN HOLLENHORST, DESERET NEWS, FEB. 7, 2011.
Much to Maria’s relief, the FBI had been busy on the case. In the hours they’d been there, they’d found traces of footprints in the backyard and confirmed that the intruder came in through the window. Unfortunately, the footprints didn’t give them much information. The clay dirt hadn’t seen rain in several weeks. So while the grass showed some matting from being stepped on, there was no defined shoe size or tread. Not much to go on at least not for the moment.
“Our list of suspects leaves something to be desired,” said FBI agent Davis Carter. “This town is about as big as a small college. Not many people to choose from.”
“True.” It was hard for Maria to explain to an outsider that despite its size, Kanab was a hub of activity. “But a lot of people make their way through this place. It has a renowned animal sanctuary—one of the best in the United States. It’s centrally located to a handful of national and state parks, it—”
“Chief,” Agent Carter interrupted her, “calm down. We do have one person of interest in the case.”
“Who?”
“Karen Stone and Beth exchanged heated words the day of the kidnapping. Karen had gone in for a haircut. When it was finished, Beth’s next client came in—a Mr. Walden. He was there to get his beard trimmed and Ms. Stone chastised Beth for ‘consorting’ with the enemy.”
“Good grief.” Maria shook her head. “The woman is a nightmare. She tried to get on the city council but offended both the liberal and conservative voters. She had no support from anyone. She seems to have gone on a crusade to make as much trouble in town as possible since then.”
“Well, Ms. Stone told Beth Hill she had better watch her back. Apparently she said something about bad karma. Beth doesn’t remember the exact words. Fourteen hours later, Beth’s kid turns up missing. The idea she would be involved seemed a little farfetched until we checked. Lo and behold the woman has a past criminal record. She moved here from Douglas, Georgia where she had several arrests for disturbing the peace. And before she was in Georgia, she had a run-in with the law in Portland, Oregon. That one was a misdemeanor for car theft. She served time.”
How had someone with a criminal record escaped Maria’s watch? Then again, it wasn’t the job of the police chief to do background checks on every single person in town. This woman had run for public office.
“I just saw Karen out at the reservoir. Let’s bring her in.”
“That was my next question—if you knew where to find her. We’ve already been to her house. She wasn’t there nor did her neighbors know where she’d gone.”
“Let’s go!” Maria was already standing.
“No, I want you to stay here. I’ll bring Karen in,” said Agent Carter.
Maria was already pulling up the coordinates of the Kanab reservoir on the computer. “I’m sending you the exact location. It will take twenty minutes to get there.”
Just then a tall, lanky, middle-aged man barged into Maria office. “I found something.”
Agent Carter pointed. “Maria, this is Floyd. He’s a skilled cryptologist. He has ten years of experience behind him. He used to be a computer programmer. He’s been looking at the perp’s ransom note.”
“I knew there was something familiar about this thing the first time I saw it.” Excitedly Floyd held up a copy of the riddle the kidnapper had left. “But I couldn’t place it. Anyhow, I was using my typical analyzing methods and coming up with nothing. I was beginning to think that perhaps this was just another hoa
x when I had the idea to Google it.”
“You Googled the ransom note and came up with something? Seriously?” Agent Carter’s face showed his disbelief.
“Yeah. With all the letters and numbers in the third line of the riddle, I got distracted. I mean, I was sure it had some algorithmic base, but even so there had to have been something more than what I was seeing.” The man’s words came out at lightning speed. “I mean, I’ve been doing this a long time, and you tend to see patterns and rhythms to numeric coding such as this, so I was feeling a little confused. But when I Googled the first two lines of the riddle I got a million and a half hits. This ransom letter is, word for word, the Veil Treasure Riddle. It’s been online for at least eight years.”
Maria felt like she needed to breathe for Floyd, let alone for herself. “Can you slow down and start from the beginning. I’m afraid I’ve never heard of The Veil Treasure Riddle.”
“Me too,” said Agent Carter, turning to Maria. “Floyd tends to forget we all don’t process information like he does.”
“Sorry.” Floyd looked around sheepishly. “I need to work on that.”
“Go on,” said Agent Carter.
“As I’m sure you’ve surmised,” Floyd began, “this doesn’t appear to be a typical kidnapping ransom note. There’s no mention of money.”
“Agreed,” said Maria. “Plus, they would have chosen a richer family if it had been money they wanted.”
Floyd nodded. “About eight years ago, an eccentric art dealer named Steven Veil from New Mexico converted his money into precious metal and jewels and hid it in a gold box somewhere in the Western United States. He then wrote a book about his life and sold it on the internet. In the book was a riddle of where to find the man’s treasure. People now call it the Veil Treasure Riddle.”
“And people believe this guy?” Agent Carter asked.
“Yep,” answered Floyd. “He’s been on USA Today. He was interviewed by The Washington and The Huffington Post and a bunch of other big news media outlets. He certainly enjoyed his time in the sun. Of course, some people say that it is a hoax. Others have dedicated their lives to trying to find the treasure.”
“And what does Veil’s riddle have to do with me?” Maria tapped a pencil on a notepad on her desk. She’d forgotten she was supposed to be taking notes.
Floyd leaned forward, staring directly into Maria’s eyes. “Are you good at solving riddles?”
“No,” Maria answered firmly.
“Me neither, actually. I mean, I’m a code breaker. Riddles are too random, subjected to opinion and personal perception. I’m no Bilbo Baggins.”
“And this isn’t a Lord of the Rings fantasy,” added Agent Carter. “This is real life and a boy is missing.”
Floyd pushed up his glasses. “My theories are either someone wants Maria to figure out the riddle or it is a smoke screen to distract us from the real case.”
Agent Carter picked up his car keys. “Floyd, you keep working on the riddle. I’m going to see if I can track down Karen Stone.”
“And what do you want me to do?” asked Maria.
“Nothing.” Agent Carter brushed past her. “As the local law enforcement, we’ll keep you up to date on the case, and we’d like you to keep up the community search parties, but other than that, the FBI will do the investigating.”
As Agent Carter exited Maria’s office, she was left speechless. There was nothing for her to do? She would go insane waiting for something to happen.
“Before I go,” said Floyd, pulling out his laptop and setting in on the desk, “I wondered if you could tell me a little more about an incident you were involved in at the Kanab reservoir yesterday.”
Maria shifted in her chair uncomfortably. “There was an altercation at the reservoir. I went there to restore order. Not sure what you mean by incident.”
“Someone caught some unique footage on their cell phone camera and posted it on the Kanab Facebook page. It was pretty shaky, but it looks like you called a skeleton out of the water. Online they were calling you a medicine woman. Someone with mystical powers.”
Before Maria could respond, the FBI officer typed on his keypad and turned his laptop around so Maria could see the monitor. On the screen was an image of herself crouching down by Jim at the edge of the reservoir.
The audio on the video was in uninterpretable, but Maria could see herself reach out and touch the water. Unnatural ripples formed around her fingertips. The ripples grew in size, radiating outward first one foot and then as far as fifteen, twenty feet on the water surface.
“Interesting.” Maria’s voice shook. “That does look strange, but it wasn’t really like that. You know how distorted videos can be.”
“Agreed,” said Floyd. “But that doesn’t mean someone else doesn’t believe what they see. What, exactly, was going on?”
“The reservoir was supposed to be clean and free of any sacred Native American remains, but a Native American expert came to the site as a consultant and he found the remains of pit houses and even a skeleton in the water. Construction has now stopped. There’s not much more to tell.”
“And those ripples?”
“The ones in the water?” Maria asked as innocently as she could.
“Right,” Agent Carter answered, “those. Do you want to explain how they formed?”
“I can’t.” Maria sighed. “The man named Jim had his fingers in the water as well. Maybe both of us putting our fingers in created some sort of weird physics reaction. I have no clue.”
“And you also have no clue how the skeleton rose to the top and floated its way straight toward you?”
“A coincidence.”
The FBI agent turned his laptop back around. “Of course that is what I believe as well, but someone else may think you have some special power to find things. It’s possible they took Justin as bait to make you find something—something we now know is the Veil treasure.”
Maria thought about all of the treasure hunting stories she had heard while visiting the Superstition Mountains. There had been a lot, and some hunters had done some pretty crazy things. But kidnap a kid? That was insane.
“How are you and Justin connected?” Floyd clicked his mouse and exited Facebook.
“He’s my best friend’s son—I’m like a pseudo aunt.”
“And do most people in Kanab know this?”
“Normally I would have said no, but this week an article came out in the newspaper. It did mention our relationship. I think there was even a quote from Justin in it saying I was his hero.”
“So anyone who reads the newspaper would know you and Justin are close?”
“Yes.”
“And anyone with access to the internet would know you called a skeleton from out of the reservoir?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Well, then. I guess we’ve managed to narrow our suspects down to … anyone.” Floyd smirked at his own sarcasm.
Maria glumly stared at the laptop screen. “So what should I do?” She hoped Floyd had plans to involve her more than Agent Carter did.
“Personally, I think if someone wants you to look for the treasure, then you should pretend you’re doing that. You should go places, but not alone. That would be stupid. Keep the kidnapper guessing. We need him or her to believe it’s worthwhile to keep Justin alive while Agent Carter tracks the perp down.”
“So I’m the decoy pretending like I’m looking for the treasure?” Maria winced at the thought of such a pathetic assignment, but at least it was something.
“In my opinion, yes. Agent Carter may disagree. But I say it couldn’t hurt. Of course, it may turn out the riddle is a smoke screen. If that’s the case, you pretending to look for the treasure won’t hinder Agent Carter’s investigation either way.” Floyd snapped his laptop shut and stood up. “Then again, I’m just a cryptologist.”
As soon as Floyd left the room, Maria shut the door. She needed some time alone to think.
Why, why, why?
Why had she let Jim talk her into doing something so stupid in front of so many people? Look where it had gotten her. More importantly, look where it had gotten Justin. Someone might have taken him to force her to solve some stupid treasure hunting riddle, which of course she couldn’t do. Whatever the Sight was, it didn’t work that way. At least not for her.
If there was one thing Maria did know, it was that she was going to make this right. It seemed every decision she made in the past was wrong. Consequently, everyone she loved was put in danger because of her. Even those in Kanab weren’t safe with her around. She needed to go off the grid. Head out and live in the mountains somewhere. With her luck, though, she’d build a cabin next to someone like Ted Kaczynski, the Unabomber, whom she would somehow anger and throw into a rampage.
For the moment she would find Justin. After that she would figure out her future—one that wouldn’t include anyone she could hurt.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
At the age of 58, antiquities dealer Forrest Fenn was diagnosed with cancer. By then, he was already a local legend— a mysterious, square-jawed Air Force veteran [who] had quickly earned a reputation as a treasure hunter.
“FENN’S TREASURE: OUR 5-DAY QUEST FOR $2 MILLION HIDDEN IN THE ROCKIES” BY ZACHARY CROCKETT, UPDATED ON JUNE 30, 2017, HTTPS://WWW.VOX.COM/A/FENN-TREASURE-HUNT-MAP
With the FBI agents gone, Pete at the Kanab newspaper talking with Mark Lyon, and the front desk receptionist helping with the search, Maria was alone in the police station.
Quiet was something she didn’t enjoy. She’d had too much of it in Tehran. It was at times like this she was reminded of what the steady drip of water in solitary confinement could do to a person’s sanity. Maria shivered and turned on some music to dispel the oppressing silence. Gathering her notes from the interviews she and Pete had conducted earlier that morning, she wondered what the best way to organize them would be. She had never worked with the FBI before as a non-CIA operative. As the police chief of a small town, she could already sense she held little clout in their eyes. Regardless, she was glad they were here. They had the manpower she didn’t. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to do everything she could to help speed the case along. And the first thing she needed to do was give them copies of everything she’d learned thus far, even if it seemed irrelevant.
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