Many of the original Empire Mine buildings had been preserved and restored. The picturesque office and stone house of the owner, built in the early 1890s to resemble an English country estate, provided a popular tourist attraction. Docents dressed in period costumes conducted tours through the house on weekends. With its redwood interiors, leaded glass windows, and massive granite walls, the cottage held great charm. Trees and shrubs grouped in traditional Victorian style decorated the spacious grounds. We often brought guests to these gardens to see the local color and spend an engaging afternoon traveling back in time.
I bounced over the gravel drive into a small parking lot where I shaded my eyes against the sun’s glare and considered the best place to start. The tour office seemed promising. A woman behind the ticket window looked up when I interrupted her concentration. “May I help you?”
My recent notoriety concerned me. I hung my head trying not to let her get a good look at me. But she showed no sign of recognizing me from my newspaper pictures. What a relief!
“I need information about the old mine shafts in the area. Not the Empire, but smaller mines. The Star in particular. Do you have a map that might show that one?”
She didn’t question my need to know, just indicated the direction to the gift shop with a simple wave of her hand. “They have maps in there.” Immediately she returned to her papers.
Wandering among the aisles in the gift shop, I came upon a rack of maps. Sure enough, one of them showed locations of other mines in the vicinity. The Star Mine was included.
After I made my purchase, I took the map to the Jeep where I spread it open on the steering wheel. According to what Mary had told us, the mineshaft leading to Satori would be somewhere near the main entrance to the Star Mine, marked with an X on this map.
Near the X a box with double lines contained a written warning: “Caution! This area closed to the public due to instability caused by miles of underground tunnels. Entrances to mine shafts are sealed.”
Individual mine shafts within the box were not marked.
“Oh, no! This map is no help at all.” However, it did show the location of the main entrance. If I got that far, I’d have a bit of exploring to do.
Finding the front entrance took some hunting. I drove down several long streets before getting close enough. The mountainous forested terrain all around me made me suddenly thankful I’d worn tennis shoes instead of the less comfortable but more stylish sandals I sometimes donned when the weather warmed.
I parked the car along a dirt road at the bottom of a hill where I finally found an old sign announcing the “Star Mine” ahead and climbed out of the Jeep. My watch read 2:25. I considered phoning Jesse, but the cell phone on the passenger seat beside me had been flashing “No service” after I left the Empire Mine. Mary said cell phones didn’t work in certain places near these mines. Well, I still had an hour or so before Jesse would begin worrying. I locked the car and started up a dirt road.
About a third of the way up the mountain, I spotted the mine entrance. Nearby, the old powerhouse stood in ruins beneath massive wooden beams that had collapsed around mounds of rusting machinery. Broken tracks led out of the mine. Piles of boulders lined the sides. Metal ore boxes once stacked beside the tracks had fallen in a tall heap. A concrete barrier blocked the entrance to the mine.
I stared at the towering barrier and spoke aloud although no one was there to hear me. “If the other shaft has one of these, I’ll have to figure out how to get over it.” I raised my arms to estimate the height. A couple inches of rock spanned between the tips of my fingers and the top. “Could I climb over?” I studied it, walking along the side to find somewhere to see through the tiny gap between the barrier and the tunnel. “Somewhere between zilch and nada, that’s what my chances of climbing over are. All these mine shafts probably have the same kind of barrier. I’ll have to get a ladder.” I imagined lugging a heavy ladder up the hill and wasn’t sure I could accomplish that on my own.
Ignoring the “Keep Out” sign, I hiked to the right first, reasoning that since the caution box on the map had been placed to the right of the “X” which marked the main entrance, perhaps the accessible entrance would also be to the right.
A dirt path wound through stacks of corroded metal and weathered lumber. The trail circled the mountain by way of a little valley and then started up another hill.
I passed through piles of rusted machinery parts and found myself at the top of a knoll. An endless carpet of green forest spread out before me as far as I could see. I gasped at the pristine scenery, uncluttered by man’s discarded waste. I turned in a circle, taking in the beauty. A little breeze ruffled through my hair; the air smelled clean and fresh.
Along the path, pine needles crunched under my feet. Around another bend, the walk became steeper. Judging by the time it took me to get this far, I figured I’d come between a half mile and a mile from the main entrance. I stopped again and squinted at the hillside ahead. Up the mountain, where the trees became sparser, a mine opening covered by another concrete barrier became visible.
I’d never be able to climb that mountain and then the concrete barrier, so I decided to return later with a ladder. Maybe I’d be able to drive all the way up to the main entrance. I studied the dirt road while I hiked back to the Jeep. That appeared to be a possibility. Here and there, I saw tire tracks in the dirt. Perhaps someone else had driven this far in the last few days.
Getting away from the clamoring media people cleared my head somewhat. Or maybe hiking in the mountain air did it. Conversations with Mary replayed in my mind. I wished I’d known her better, been able to protect her. I wished someone hadn’t taken her away so soon. Why didn’t we just take her home with us that night? We would have kept her safe. I brushed away a little tear. I’d better think about something else before I started to sob. Was anyone arranging for Mary’s funeral?
Trudging toward the car, I remembered Colter’s accusations. An odd feeling like I’d forgotten something important nagged my conscience. What was it?
The drugs in the purse? No, something about that purse. Mary had the purse in the back seat when we went to the mill. Did she leave it in the car when we dropped her off? I replayed the scene:
Early that morning, almost four, we returned to Mary’s house. Jesse eased the Jeep into the wide space near Mary’s front door. Mary looked as tired as I felt.
I reached back to squeeze her hand. “Thank you for trying to help us find Molly.”
She hesitated. “She must be in the mine shaft. That’s why we didn’t see her. Frankie will take care of her. He loves dogs.”
Jesse raised his eyebrows. “He does?”
She nodded. “Oh, sure. He’s got a real mean streak where people are concerned, but he would collect every stray in town if he could. That German shepherd out there, that’s his dog Brutus. He has others too. Probably a dozen or more. Strays mostly, that he found on the street, just like me. He’s very fond of them. He won’t let anyone hurt Molly.”
I knew she wanted to give me hope. “Well then, we’ll have to figure out how to get her out of there.”
Jesse groaned.
The corners of Mary’s mouth turned up just a bit. “Thank you for praying with me. I won’t ever forget that.”
“You could come to church with us,” I said. “To learn more about Jesus.”
She nodded. “That would be nice.”
She opened the door and stepped into the darkness. We watched until the screen door flapped shut behind her.
Did she take her purse? Surely she wouldn’t leave it in the back seat. I couldn’t shake the impression that I’d seen that purse another time. Where?
Then it hit me. The black fringed purse lay on the floor underneath the overturned kitchen chair when I entered Mary’s house for the last time. I was positive I’d seen it there. How did it get into our Jeep?
Someone put it there deliberately, probably even added the drugs, for the sole purpose of implicatin
g me, just as Mr. Goldburgh had suggested. Who would have done such a thing?
I knew with one guess.
Empowered by anger bordering on rage, I pushed the door at the sheriff’s office open with more force than necessary and demanded to see Deputy Colter.
The woman manning the front desk raised her eyebrows in surprise. “May I have your name?”
“Christine Sterling. He knows me.”
Her expression told me she’d been instructed to stall while sizing up the mental state of crazy folks who make such demands. “I’m sorry. Deputy Colter is in a meeting. Perhaps one of the other officers could assist you?”
I planted both hands on her desk. “That won’t do, my dear. I must see Colter. Now.”
She moved from behind her desk and hurried through the door.
I paced several times across the rug, ignoring stares from the couple seated in the waiting area. Shortly, Deputy Colter marched in with the receptionist trailing right behind.
Outrage oozed from his every pore. “This better be important.”
“Believe me, it is.” I led the way toward the hall where interviews were held.
Colter gestured toward a cubicle where we could talk. I did not sit. After he closed the door, he turned to face me. “What is it now?”
“The purse.” I panted while I described my sighting of it at Mary’s house. “How do you suppose it got into our Jeep? Mary certainly couldn’t have put it there. She was dead already. Who did then? It had to be you.”
He flinched slightly. “You have no proof of that.”
My heart and my head throbbed out of control. “I know
what I saw! Mary did not leave her purse in my Jeep. She left it in her house. Neither Jesse nor I put it in the Jeep. Who’s been trying to keep me from the truth? Who threatened Jesse and me? Who had no interest in finding the black van? Who had time and opportunity to plant the purse in my Jeep?” I pointed my finger. “You, you, you! It’s all adding up. That means you are involved in these deaths, Baxter’s and Mary’s. Why else would you try to get me out of your way?”
He pulled himself to full height, towering above me as if he could silence me by sheer size. “How dare you! Those are all preposterous accusations.”
I placed my hands on my hips and glared.
He blinked. “It would come down to my word against yours, an esteemed officer of the law against a woman known to consort with druggies. Who do you think people would believe?”
I would not back down. “If you don’t admit it, I’m going directly to your superiors. If they’re not investigating you already, they will be by the time I finish.”
Deputy Colter stared hard. His mouth opened, but words didn’t tumble out. He closed his lips and plopped into a chair.
For a moment, he appeared to shrink. His brow furrowed deeply. When he spoke at last, he had to prop himself up to regain his professional demeanor. His voice stammered out, “You are clearly overwrought, Mrs. Sterling. Surely we can work this out without involving anyone else.”
Too late for that. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, giving me strength. I didn’t back down for an instant. “What’ll it be? You tell me what’s really going on or I start talking. I’ll tell this story to everyone all the way up to the high sheriff himself. I’ll even hold a press conference. I will not stop talking until they get the truth out of you.”
He cleared his throat and pinched his bulbous nose while considering a moment longer. “I think I know what you want.” He swiped his chin. “In reviewing the, uh, evidence against you in Mary Wilson’s murder, I find that we have been a bit hasty in naming you a suspect.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “What? Haven’t you heard anything I said?”
He stood. That seemed to give him a confidence boost. When he continued, his voice had regained its usual pompous tenor. “We will immediately recommend that your name be removed from the list of suspects and issue a statement to that effect for the news media. That should be completely satisfactory. Now please allow me to show you out.”
Before I could utter another word, he took my arm and maneuvered me through the offices to the reception area. He marched me all the way to my Jeep, then turned on his heel and walked away.
It wasn’t what I wanted, but relief swept through my body anyway. I shook my head while I unlocked the Jeep. So many questions crowded my brain that I couldn’t make sense of them. Certainly some of the answers involved Deputy Colter.
Exhaustion overwhelmed me. I felt alone and, oh, so very old. I had to regroup and process what had happened. For now, I’d have to let the questions go.
Just for now.
Chapter Nineteen
An article on the front page of the Sunday morning newspaper announced that I’d been formally cleared of suspicion in Mary Wilson’s murder. The news crews were gone before we left for church. A few people gawked at me when I entered church, then glanced away quickly. How long would it be before the sight of my face or the mention of my name didn’t raise eyebrows in our small town?
We had picked up our newly released Jeep from the impound lot as soon as we could. Jesse suggested an outing to celebrate my freedom from pending prosecution. But when we turned off toward Nevada City, a row of strangers clad completely in black lined both sides of the freeway overpass. Pasty white faces without smiles turned to stare while we drove by.
The Channel 11 news van occupied the middle of Broad Street. Jesse swerved to miss it. “What’s going on here? It’s too early for Halloween. What costumed holiday falls in the spring?”
“I don’t know.” Hordes of somber kids milled through the narrow streets. “Nevada City will use any excuse for a celebration.” Parades and festivals abounded in these foothill gold-boom towns, but I hadn’t heard of anything planned for this Sunday.
Teens costumed in dark Goth clothing swarmed the entrance to the little market just off Broad Street. Streaks of bright purple, blue, or neon green decorated their hair regardless of gender. Body piercings protruded from eyebrows and noses and tattoos cluttered their skin.
For several years, these teens loitering in the vicinity of the downtown market had ignited controversy among adults who didn’t understand their unorthodox taste in attire or lifestyle.
Jesse drove around the block a couple of times looking for a parking space. “This is kind of scary,” he said on his third pass. “Maybe having lunch here wasn’t such a great idea.”
As we rounded the corner near the market, a dented blue Chevrolet pulled out of a space in front of us.
“Bingo.” Jesse expertly parallel parked in the tiny gap.
When I set my foot on the sidewalk, the throbbing cadence from boom boxes pounded the air right out of my chest. The atmosphere hummed with tension. No one laughed or smiled. Fists waved. A cacophony of voices clamored. Scary grunge music blared like drumbeats of warring tribes; it was clearly not happy music, although I couldn’t identify a single word.
Jesse joined me, tucking his hearing aid into his pocket. Dare we leave the Jeep in the midst of this unstable crowd?
I approached the nearest clump of bystanders. A thin, teenage girl turned her doleful white face toward us. Her eyes were heavily outlined in black. Fingertips of the black lace gloves on her hands had been hacked off revealing long black fingernails. An ornate metal crucifix dangled from a long beaded necklace that appeared to be rosary beads. The effect startled me. “What’s going on?”
The steel toecap on one of her army surplus boots clinked the sidewalk when she stamped her foot defiantly. “The pigs are trying to pin that girl’s murder on us.”
My stomach lurched. “You mean Mary Wilson’s murder?”
“Yeah.” Her lips curled into an unattractive sneer. “They’re saying a gang of us kids did it. Imitating some psycho I never heard of. It’s insane!”
Beside her, a tall grim male glared down from beneath a halo of spiked hair. “It’s a total frame, dude. They been tryin’ to get us outta here for year
s.” He stuck his clenched hand in the air as if shaking his fist at the heavens. The sun sparkled on the spikes imbedded in his black leather wristband. “Too bad. We’re staying.”
Just then, I spotted Leonard Pinzer, wielding his ever present microphone like a sword slashing through the mob on the sidewalk. His faithful cameraman shuffled close behind, jostled by the crowd. I nudged Jesse and pointed. “Let’s see what he’s up to.”
Leonard threaded through, asking questions where he could. He had just lowered his microphone when he saw us. “Hey.” His face brightened in recognition. “It’s the former person of interest. What are you doing in this mess?”
“What’s this all about?” I asked above the din.
“Looks like the animals are taking over the zoo.” He chuckled while he extracted a large handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat off his jowls. “The kids aren’t going to take this lying down.”
Jesse cupped one hand around his ear. “Take what?”
An expression of complete disbelief spread over Leonard’s face.
I interpreted. “He wants to know what’s happening.”
Leonard stopped and stared at each of us in turn. “Don’t you folks ever watch the news?”
Jesse leaned closer. “What did he say?”
“Your Deputy Colter arrested three boys this morning for the murder of Mary Wilson.”
“Colter?” What was the man up to now?
Jesse looked at me. I shrugged.
“Yep.” Ignoring Jesse’s inability to hear, Leonard puffed himself to his full height as if the importance of his insider information had inflated him. “He’s been working on this since before he brought you in for questioning. Apparently bringing you in was a ruse he orchestrated so he could concentrate on his real focus without getting these kids too riled up.” He nodded at the crowd, smirking knowingly.
The Dunn Deal Page 17