A Brady Paranormal Investigations Box Set

by Harper Crowley

  She groans, and her eyes flutter open just as Russ reaches our side. I choke on a sob and feel for a pulse. It’s there, thready and light. My breath whooshes from my chest. Thank God.

  “Is she all right?” Russ asks, grabbing Jess’s hand.

  “I think so.”

  Jess groans. “What happened?”

  There’s a shout from the fight I’d totally forgotten about, and suddenly the shapes, the people, peel away and race up the side of the valley. Beau starts after them but then turns around and joins us instead. He has a revolver in his hand. “Is everyone okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I think so.” I brush my sister’s hair away from the trickle of blood seeping from her hairline, and she winces.

  “Ow. Don’t do that.”

  “I’m going to go for help,” Beau says. He squeezes Russ on the shoulder. “Are you all right out here?”

  Russ nods. There’s a fierce glint of protectiveness in his eyes, which shine in the moonlight.

  “Take this.” Beau hands him the revolver.

  For a second, Russ’s hand wavers, but then he takes a deep breath and grabs the gun. I wonder if he’s remembering the gun that the Mullet Boys pulled on him.

  “Do you know how to use it?” Beau asks.

  “Yeah,” Russ says.

  “Good.” Beau turns to me. “I’ll back as soon as I can. Try not to move her.”

  “I won’t.”

  And then he’s gone, the night closes in on us, and we wait, just the three of us, for help to come.

  Chapter 21

  Bear’s bark echoes in my sleep-deprived head, and it takes a minute for it to sink in. I glance at my sister sitting on the couch next to Russ, watching a horror flick to stay awake, per doctor’s orders, and I force myself to my feet. I wish she’d agreed to go to the hospital, but I couldn’t force her. The best Russ and I could do is make her follow standard concussion protocol.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” I mutter. I grab his leash and my phone. I point at Russ. “Don’t let her go to sleep.”

  He yawns. “I won’t.” Obviously, he’s not going to volunteer for dog duty. In his defense, Bear is my dog.

  “Come on.” I shuffle into my shoes and slip on a light jacket.

  Outside, the moon and the stars illuminate the vast space between the cottages and the main house, where lights are on. And standing against the backdrop of the bay window in the front is a dark figure. I creep closer.

  Beau paces the front porch, holding his phone to his ear. “I don’t give a damn what you think you’re doing, it’s too dangerous. A girl almost died out there because of this stupid shit.” He pauses. “No, I’m not done. Goddamn it.” He pulls off his hat and runs his free hand through his hair. “Go to Hell, okay? I don’t care how close you think you are. No. Don’t hang up on me. I’m on my way.”

  He stuffs his phone into his pocket, and I have only enough time to dart behind the main house before he storms past, striding toward his truck. Then he reaches for his pocket, pats it, and swears loudly. “Stupid keys,” he mutters.

  What in the hell is going on? I’ve never seen him this angry before. It’s got to have something to do with the case. He knows something. Spurred on by that thought, I shove Bear back into the cabin and sprint across the courtyard, vaulting into the bed of Beau’s truck just in time for the front door to the ranch to open and Beau to stomp out.

  Heart pounding in my chest, I flatten myself to the bed of the truck as he gets in, slams the door, and starts the engine. I shoot Russ a quick text, telling him I’m with Beau, which is technically true, then turn the sound off so I don’t get any notifications. Let them think what they want—at least now, they won’t worry and try to find me. But as Beau’s truck roars out of the driveway, I start to wonder how well I really know him, after all.

  Beau drives for what feels like forever. I don’t dare peek out of the bed of the truck, but something tells me I’m on the right track, and like it or not, I’ve got to see it through. Beau pulls the truck off of a paved road and onto the rockier ground of a dirt road. Mexican music blares from somewhere close by. We must be in a relatively civilized area, which could be good, because there might be witnesses if he catches me and goes all crazy.

  The truck stops. Beau gets out and locks the door. After his steps fade away, I count to twenty then peek over the edge of the truck bed. Familiar weathered wooden siding greets me, and at the corner is a sign directing tourists to the visitor’s center. Tombstone. Of course we’re back in Tombstone.

  A group of teenagers passes, and I duck beneath the side of the truck before they see me. Then I slip over the side, crouch low to the ground, and hug the side of the nearest building until I reach the corner.

  After taking a deep breath, I peek around the side. About twenty feet away, Beau stands in front of the Last Chance Saloon, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets and his hat pulled low over his face, the epitome of dark-and-dangerous cowboy. My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I ignore it. It’s probably Russ trying to call and make fun of me for sneaking off with Beau. He won’t be able to resist.

  Beau disappears into the saloon, and I use that moment to sneak closer, utilizing doorways and a brief break between buildings to get as close as I can. Per usual, country music blares from inside the saloon, and I hear a lot of voices, so I take a deep breath and walk inside, looking for all intents and purposes like I have every right to be there and I’m not creeping around, following a guy I barely know.

  Once inside, the crush of bodies lends me an anonymity I relish. I quickly scan the unfamiliar faces, but I don’t see Beau’s. Crap. Where did he go? When I’m sure he’s not in there, I slip back out. He’s got to be around here somewhere. The alley. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

  I sneak down the alley, hearing the music fade away, then dart a quick glance around the corner. Beau stands bracketed by a couple of other people, arguing quietly, including Bill, his buddy from the last time we saw them in the saloon, Joe, and Cecily.

  “Whydidn’t you tell me what you were searching for? I could have told you there wasn’t anything there.”

  “It’s there,” Bill says. He leans forward, the moon reflecting the angry glint in his eyes. “All the signs point to it being in that valley, right at the base of the mountains.”

  “Says who?” Beau throws his hands up in the air. “You’ve got to know what a fool’s errand this is. If there was this mysterious cave with gold, someone else would have found it by now. People have looked for over a hundred years. It’s not real. It’s just a legend.”

  “Bill’s cracked the code, Beau.” Cecily puts her hand on Beau’s arm, and he flinches. There must be some kind of bad blood there.

  My own blood boils in response, but I have to keep my eyes on the prize.

  “Jesus Christ.” Beau removes her arm from his. “There is no code, just the hallucinations of an old man too far in the bottle to make any sense to anyone. For God’s sake, Cecily, I can’t believe you’re wrapped up in this too.”

  “But Bill says there’s a lot of money out there, and he says—”

  “’Bill says, Bill says,’” Beau parrots. “Well, I’m telling you stay off of our land. A girl almost died out there, trying to figure out what’s going on, and I will not let that happen again.”

  “Then don’t,” Bill sneers. “Annette said you’re screwing the brunette. Call your bitch off. Tell her to stay out of it and mind her own business. Keep her under control. That’s what I do.”

  Cecily flinches at his words. Is she another of Bill’s conquests? I thought she was dating Hank? I know I’d love to tie Bill out in the middle of the desert and leave him for the coyotes to find, and maybe toss a rattlesnake on top of him for good measure.

  Hands tightening into fists, Beau glares at him. “I’m warning you again. Stay off of my land, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

  Bill gets right in his face. “The mountains don’t belong to nobody. We can go there
if we want. You can’t keep us out.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  Cecily pushes her way between them. “Bill, Beau, please stop.” She turns to Joe. “Help me.”

  Joe shrugs. “I’m with Bill. We’re this close, Cece. We can’t stop now.”

  She decides to change her tactics. “Come with us, then. We’re so close, and we’ll give you a cut. I swear.”

  “I don’t want a cut,” Beau says, “because there is no gold. There is no buried treasure waiting to be found. Only death, and it’ll find you too if you keep searching, mark my words. Don’t you remember Carter, Bill? Joe? Or have you forgotten him that easily?”

  “Come on, Beau. You can’t compare what happened to him to this. It’s not the same thing,” Bill snaps.

  Beau winces at the other man’s words. “You’re right. It’s not. It’s worse because you two were his best friends, and you were supposed to protect him, but you didn’t. People die in those mountains, and I won’t have any more blood on my hands.” With that, he turns and storms down the alley. I barely have enough time to dart around the side of the building before he storms past me.

  Mind whirling, I follow him back to his truck. Once there, Beau leans against the side of the vehicle, arms crossed over his chest. He stares up at the sky for a long time, as if contemplating something. How am I going to sneak in now? I really don’t want to have to walk back to Tombstone or call Russ and ask for a ride.

  “You can come out now, Meredith,” Beau says, his voice weary. “I know you’re out there.”

  Chapter 22

  Crap, I knew I should have stayed farther behind. I guess I was so worried about missing something or getting left stranded that I was careless. Stupid.

  Hands in my pockets, I straighten my spine and stride around the side of the building. I will not act embarrassed. I have nothing to be embarrassed about. Well, except for the sneaking-around-and-eavesdropping thing. I decide to go on the offensive, since it's the only defense I have left. "How long did you know I was following you?" I ask.

  Beau chuckles. "Ever since I saw you creep around the side of the building at the Last Chance." His lips twitch. "You're not very good at sneaking around.”

  That long, eh? So he knows I overheard his conversation. Why didn’t he confront me then? Why did he let me listen in and then follow him back to the truck? “You lied to me,” I say. “After we got back to the ranch, I asked you if you recognized those people, and you said no. That was a lie. Why? Was Bill out there?”

  Beau glances away, clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t know for sure, but I thought it was him. Everything happened so fast. I wanted to know one way or another before I talked to you. I... I didn’t want you to get wrapped up in anything dangerous.”

  I plant my hands on my hips. "Are you serious? We're way past dangerous and hip deep in oh-shit territory here. Now is not the time to lie to me."

  “You're right,” he says. “I was wrong.”

  I eye him warily, not used to someone giving up this easily. I decide to push my luck. “You need to tell me everything you know, from the beginning. No holding back.”

  He nods. "Yes, ma'am." He holds out his arm. "Why don't we take a walk? I'll tell you everything, but I'd rather not do it in the truck or back at the ranch where my dad can hear us. Some of it's... well, it's hard to talk about."

  So it’s something his dad won’t want us to know. That’s strange. I take his arm, but not before I open the recorder app on my phone and slip it back into my pocket. Whatever Beau’s going to talk about is important, and I don’t want to miss it. He watches me patiently, but he doesn’t tell me to stop. Maybe he wants the truth to come out, too.

  The main street in Tombstone is emptier than it was when I snuck after him earlier. We pretty much have the street to ourselves except for the bar, and there are lights on at the Lily Theater, the Bird Cage Theater, and the Crystal Palace. Other than that, the only illumination is from the antique-looking street lamps and the stars.

  "Remember what I told you about the outlaws and the prospectors who supposedly hid gold all over the West?"

  I nod. "Yeah..." This isn’t exactly news at this point, but he must have somewhere he’s willing to go with this, so I let him continue.

  “A lot of them didn’t trust banks or made their fortune robbing banks, so they weren’t exactly going to deposit money where they’d stolen it. No, most found their own places to hide their loot. They used caves mostly, or just buried it by a landmark so they could find it later. They’d come back when they needed it or wanted to start a new life for themselves, but sometimes other outlaws would follow them and steal the money. Well, if you haven’t guessed, there are still people out there that believe there’s treasure out there, waiting for someone to crack the code or read the map correctly.”

  We pass the last of the businesses and continue strolling toward the darkened O.K. Corral. Beau keeps his voice low enough to avoid eavesdroppers, which is a smart idea. With everything that’s going on, we need to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

  "How do you know all this?"

  Beau stares down the street for several seconds without speaking.

  From here, we can see all the way down the street to the corral. A couple of blocks away, someone steps out of the building, appearing as a dark silhouette against the building before disappearing back inside.

  "My brother, Carter, loved the Old West. He loved the history of the place, the culture, the nature. He was born to live here, while I wasn’t.”

  "Really?" I lean back to regard him. "I find that hard to believe. You're like the perfect cowboy. You were made for this life."

  He chuckles ruefully. "What’s the old saying? If the boot fits, wear it? Well, it never did for me. My older brother was the spitting image of my dad, while I was more intellectual. Yeah, I learned how to ride horses before I could walk, and working cattle is in my blood, but I never really enjoyed it. I was more the bookworm of the family."

  “I never would have guessed.” It hits me that he’s talking about his brother in the past tense. A heavy pit forms in my stomach.

  “It’s true. I didn't even try to be a rancher until after Carter died." Beau lets the words hang in the air until they fade away.

  Good going, Mer. Way to dredge up the memories and set the tone.

  "It was a riding accident," Beau says, breaking the stillness. "He was out with his friends, and I guess he fell off. But I know my dad blames it on the legend. Carter was nuts about those stories, and there was one we were all really familiar with.” He pauses again, as if to collect his thoughts.

  “Our however-many-times-great-grandpa, Turner St. Claire, settled here in Tombstone’s heyday. He was a ladies’ man, through and through, and he loved to gamble, so Tombstone was perfect for him. This wasn’t too unusual back then, because a lot of young men were that way. He had big dreams of making it rich and was on his way to visit family in Virginia when he met his future wife, my many-times-great-grandma, Beatrice. She said she wouldn’t marry him until he settled down because there wasn’t any future in it, and that once he had a respectable career, he should send her a telegram, and she’d come and marry him.”

  “I like her already.”

  Beau squeezes my arm. “Me, too. Stories say she was one heck of a woman, that’s for sure. At any rate, my great-grandpa Turner hit a small vein. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to buy some land out here and start a cattle ranch with a little left over for a rainy day. Legend says that right after he sent Beatrice a telegram, he buried his leftover gold somewhere on the ranch.”

  “And she came right out, didn’t she?”

  He chuckles. “On the next stagecoach to Tucson. They married the day she got here and had seven kids. Legend has it that on his deathbed, Turner urged his son not to look for the treasure until after he and his wife were gone. He said he’d buried it at the foot of the mountains, where two brothers met and parted, whatever that means. Then he died.”

&
nbsp; Jesus, I hate riddles. I can never figure them out. They’re Jess’s forte. "What about your grandma?"

  "She was distraught after he left, and on the day of his funeral, she disappeared. Took a horse and rode off into the mountains. She left a note begging her children not to look for her, saying that it was her choice.”

  “Did they?”

  "Of course. A couple of days later, her horse came back, her pack still strapped to its back. They never found her or the buried treasure my great-grandpa left behind."

  "But your brother went looking for it?"

  "Every chance he got. Carter was obsessed with the legend. He said it was his legacy to find the gold, his birthright. When he was younger, Dad would take him out to look, but they never asked me if I wanted to go,” he says, the faintest trace of bitterness in his voice.

  “And you said he went looking for it on the day he disappeared?”

  “Yeah. They told Dad they were going out to look for a missing cow, but the night before, Carter said he and his buddies thought they found the Brother Rocks. Dad had given up on finding the treasure a long time ago and forbade Carter from looking, but like I said, Carter was obsessed. That night, he didn't come back."

  “What were the Brother Rocks?”

  “Nobody knows. Dad thinks whoever was listening misunderstood my great-grandpa, and he meant something else, but nobody knows now.”

  We stop at the entrance to the O.K. Corral, and Beau stares into the darkness beyond.

  “Carter’s friends say his horse got spooked by a rattlesnake, and Carter fell off, but I don't know if I believe them. If that was true, they’d have had time to get help. They could have saved Carter’s life, but they didn't. They ran, and they left him out there, and I had to tell my dad, when he was worrying about Carter, that they'd really been out looking for the treasure. By the time they found my brother, it was too late. When we confronted his friends, they said Carter wanted to ride home alone, and they had no idea anything was wrong. Bullshit. They knew they weren’t supposed to be out there. They just didn’t want to get in trouble.”