"Will?"
He turned at the sound of his father's voice. "What are you doing over there?"
He glanced back to the rise, but the man was gone. He hurried over to his father. "Dad, I saw him again. Masau was standing right up there."
His father nodded, looking toward the direction Will was pointing. He didn't question him as his grandfather would have done, nor did he seem surprised.
Will felt more awed than disturbed or frightened by what he'd just seen. In fact, this time he wasn't frightened at all. Maybe his father's presence and the reassurances he'd already given him about his mystical experiences were bolstering his confidence.
"Masau is guiding you, but he's not necessarily protecting you," Lansa said.
"What do you mean?"
"It means we have to hurry."
They trotted back to the tunnel without saying any more about Masau, but Will felt that his father was holding something back. He entered the tunnel right behind his father and waited for him to move past the mining cart. Lansa held up a hand for him to be quiet, then pointed at the door. The lock lay on the ground and the door was ajar. He poked his head through the door, and Will looked over his shoulder. The door creaked open a few more inches. At first, all he could see was a flashlight beam that crossed the wall, then shone in his eyes. He held up a hand to block the light.
"Pete, Will, c'mon in here," Connors said. "You've got to see this."
"How did you get the lock open?" Will asked as he and his father stepped inside.
"Our young lady friend here happens to be handy with a hairpin."
Will looked over at Corey, but his attention was immediately distracted as Connors moved the light around the room.
The beam illuminated a room that was about twenty by twenty with a concrete floor and finished walls and ceiling. A long counter dominated the center of the room and it was covered with beakers, racks of test tubes, Bunsen burners, and other lab equipment. Nearby was a metal storage rack stocked with canisters marked with chemical names.
"It looks like a chemistry lab," Will said.
"That's exactly what it is," Corey said, picking up a beaker. "This must be where that drug is made."
"Burke isn't a chemist, though," Will said.
"You can bet one of his partners is," Connors said. "They probably figured they'd found the perfect spot for a drug lab."
"But there's no sign of Myra here," Will said. "Will, I found what looks like a grave not a hundred feet from the entrance," Lansa said.
"Where? I want to see it." Will headed toward the door. On his way out of the tunnel, he grabbed the shovel that was in the mining cart.
Lansa led the way over to what appeared to be a grave. To Will's surprise, the spot wasn't particularly well hidden. Anyone walking this way from the entrance of the mine could see the overturned soil. He wondered about that and why the body would be buried so close to a place that the killer probably wanted to keep secret.
"If Myra was buried here, she hasn't been here long," Lansa said.
"Why do you say that?" Connors asked.
"This soil was dug up earlier today. There were three people here and they made no effort to cover their shoe prints. Two men, one woman. She wore hiking boots. The men wore sneakers."
"How can you see that through the snow?" Corey asked.
He pointed to a barren spot to one side. "I blew the snow away over there."
"I've got to see if the body's here." Will plunged the shovel into the dirt.
"Will, you don't want to do that," Connors said. "Besides, you're messing up the evidence."
"I don't think you're going to find a body."
"What do you mean, Dad? This is a grave, isn't it?"
When Lansa didn't answer, Will quickly scooped several more shovelfuls of the loose dirt. Three feet down and he hit solid ground. He stabbed the shovel at the loose dirt nearby and again struck hard ground.
"I don't get it. How did you know there wasn't a body here?"
"Because there were other tracks here, too, that were from a few days ago. I think it was only one person. The body was probably buried here, but then it was dug up by the three others."
"You amaze me," Connors said. "But what does this mean?"
"It could mean the killer got scared and moved the body. But why would he involve two more people?"
"And why would he bury the body here in the first place?" Corey asked. "It's so close to the tunnel."
"Good point," Lansa said. "I don't think we're going to find any more answers here right now. We better be on our way."
As they headed to the Land Rover, Will lagged behind. Something told him to stop and look back. He slowly turned his head and saw Masau standing on the grave, his face haggard and bloody. Will couldn't move. His heart pounded and he heard Masau's voice inside his head: Here comes the murderer.
"Will!" Connors yelled. "Let's move it."
He tore his gaze away, then hurried to catch up to the others. He didn't know whether he should say anything or not. But then he glimpsed what the others had already seen. A four-wheel-drive police vehicle was coming up the winding mountain road.
They rushed into the Land Rover, and Connors gunned the engine and pulled away, bouncing over the rugged dirt road. "I hate the idea of running from cops, but we've got no choice. That might be Kirkpatrick."
"Bad cops can be more dangerous than hardened criminals," Lansa said. "They've got the power, or the appearance of it, on their side."
"You've got that right." Connors glanced into the rearview mirror. "I think we got away before they saw us."
But how were they going to get to Denver without being stopped? Will wondered. If Kirkpatrick didn't already have an all-points bulletin out for the Land Rover, it wouldn't be long before he figured out Will was with his grandfather. Besides, they couldn't leave right away since they had to drop off Corey before they left town.
"Do you know how to get to the highway this way?" Lansa asked.
"Of course. I know these roads like the back—"
Connors slammed on the brakes and cursed under his breath. Two pickups were blocking the road. He stopped a hundred feet short of the trucks.
"Maybe they just stopped to look at something," Corey said hopefully.
"I don't think so," Will said as he saw Detective Olsen step out and raise her gun.
Two men, both armed, stepped out from either side of the road and aimed their weapons at the Land Rover. They wore black jeans and leather jackets. One had a ponytail, the other a thick black beard and curly hair. They were the same pair Will had seen with Burke outside the Ute City Banque, and later with Olsen.
"Get out of the car," Olsen yelled. "Hands in the air."
"Do what she says," Lansa said, and they all stepped out of the vehicle.
"Put your hands down on the hood," Olsen ordered as she moved closer.
The two men ran their hands down Will's, Lansa's, and Connors's sides and legs and found Lansa's .38. Olsen searched Corey, who stood next to Will in stunned silence.
"What were you doing at the mine?" Olsen asked.
"We were looking for John Wayne," Connors said. "But we found a drug factory instead. You know that, though, don't you, Detective?"
"Yes, we do."
Will felt dazed, light-headed. Olsen and Kirkpatrick must be involved with Burke in the drug scheme.
An engine growled as the police vehicle they'd seen coming up the mountain stopped behind the Land Rover. Sheriff Kirkpatrick got out and touched his hand to his holstered weapon.
"Just keep your hands on the hood," Olsen murmured. "Everything will be okay."
"Good work, Laura," Kirkpatrick said. "Did you follow them up here?"
"No, we were already here."
Will glanced over his shoulder and saw Kirkpatrick frown. "I thought you were off today."
Olsen didn't answer.
Kirkpatrick looked at the two men. "Who're your helpers?"
"They're DEA agents,
Bower. You're under arrest. We've been staking out the mine. We've got videotape of you and Tom Burke going in and out of it."
"I was setting him up," Kirkpatrick said.
"Tell it to the judge," she said and handcuffed him as Ponytail disarmed him.
Will was stunned by the abrupt turnabout. He wasn't the only one.
"I don't believe this," Kirkpatrick said.
"Yeah, there goes the election, Bower," Olsen said. "Sorry about that."
A car door slammed. Claude, followed by Paige Davis, walked over from the police vehicle. "What's going on here?" Claude asked.
"Funny you should ask," Olsen said. "You're under arrest for murder."
Will felt elated and sickened at the same time. Olsen knew that he was innocent. But his former best friend was a killer. He realized Olsen must have been acting when she and the DEA agents had confronted Will and the others. It was just a setup to catch the Kirkpatricks.
"What are you talking about?" Claude's voice was nearly a screech. "I didn't kill anyone."
"We videotaped you yesterday when you dug the grave, then buried the body after you carried it out of the mine," Ponytail said. "We dug it up today when we brought Detective Olsen up here."
"Who are you guys? I thought—"
"Shut up!" Black Beard snapped.
"I didn't kill her," Claude blubbered. "Paige did it. She was on the drug. I stole Will's knife out of his Jeep to make it look like it was him."
"You made me kill her," Paige screamed. "You were afraid she was going to turn in the whole operation. She knew too much."
"Shut your mouth!" the sheriff yelled. "Both of you! Don't say another word. It's not what you think."
Olsen snapped handcuffs on Claude and Paige. "What is it then, Bower? She's said plenty already."
Suddenly, another vehicle appeared—a dark green Ford Explorer. It skidded to a stop just behind the police car, and Tom Burke stepped out.
"Well, now the real fun begins," Ponytail said with a laugh.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Burke's gaze took in everything and everyone. He didn't seem at all surprised or concerned. If he thought he was going to talk himself out of this mess, it was going to take an Oscar-winning performance.
"Put your hands on the vehicle," Olsen snapped. "You're under arrest."
Burke gave her an amused look. He glanced at the two DEA agents and smiled. Black Beard put his gun to Olsen's head. "Sorry, Laura."
Ponytail reached for the astonished detective's gun. "What's going on?" she asked.
"Who are you guys?" Connors looked bewildered.
Burke spun around. He held a snub-nosed .38 in his palm. "On the ground, Ed. All of you." He motioned toward Lansa, Will, and Corey. "Hands behind your heads."
Burke turned back to Olsen. "Don't worry, these guys really are DEA agents. It's just that they have some outside interests." He nodded toward Black Beard. "Charles here is our chemist. That came in very handy for the lab work."
"The best thing you can do right now is give up," Olsen said in a surprisingly calm voice.
Burke laughed. "I admit it was getting a little hot with that nasty murder. Claude here got messed up on the drug and almost ruined everything. He tried to get back at me by sticking the body in the mining cart and sending a bunch of E-mail crap to Will. But that's over now. We've got our goods out of town and now it's time to blow this place."
He looked at his partners and grinned. "And I mean blow it."
"Get these things off me," Kirkpatrick said, shaking his wrists.
Burke held out his hand to Olsen. "The keys, please. It's time for musical handcuffs."
Black Beard pushed his 9-mm pistol to Olsen's forehead. She reached into her jacket and handed Burke the keys.
Will saw a look of intense concentration on his father's face. His body was tensed as if he were ready to act.
"First, the sheriff." He freed Kirkpatrick and handed him the cuffs and keys. "I'll let you do the honors. You've got more experience in these matters."
"Watch out!" Kirkpatrick yelled.
Lansa leaped to his feet and wrapped an arm around Burke's neck and grabbed his hand. He dragged him back, away from the others, as he struggled for the gun. Will bolted forward and rammed his head into the sheriff's gut, knocking him into Ponytail. Claude hurtled into Lansa, catching him behind the knees. Burke fell on top of Lansa and his gun fired.
Will looked up to see Paige falling to the ground, Corey racing into the woods, and Burke striking his father's head with the butt of his gun. Will started to crawl, but Kirkpatrick lunged and grabbed his legs. Ponytail rushed over and pressed his gun against Will's cheek.
A few feet in front of Will, Paige lay on her back, breathing hard. Blood covered her chest. Her eyes were open wide. Then she was still.
"No!" Claude yelled. He rushed over and dropped to his knees. "Paige, no!"
Will looked away. Black Beard was holding Olsen with an arm locked around her neck. But Corey, where was Corey?
"Paige is dead!" Claude shouted. "No!"
Will looked up just in time to see the sheriff's boot an instant before it struck him in the center of the forehead.
Chapter Twenty-Five
She didn't want to leave Will behind, but there was nothing else Corey could do. She'd waited for her chance and as soon as Will had tackled the sheriff, she'd bolted for the woods. She didn't know what happened to Will or his father, but she had to get help.
She ran blindly in a zigzag path, going uphill, then down, dodging trees as she went. She didn't know where she was or which way to go. She finally stopped and put her hands on her knees, gasping for air. Her head was spinning.
She was about to start off again when she heard the crunch of snow, someone following her footprints. She couldn't tell how far away the sounds were or the exact direction they were coming from.
But they were definitely closer, coming closer.
Her heart pounding in her ears, she dashed away from the sound, running uphill through an area almost devoid of snow, then downhill, keeping to forested areas and away from snow-covered fields. When she stopped again, she didn't move for a full minute and she didn't hear any sounds of footsteps.
The afternoon was fading away into a murky gray. Soon it would be dusk, then dark. She'd gotten away, she thought, but she was lost. She wasn't so much afraid for herself now as she was concerned about Will and the others. She couldn't help them, couldn't do a thing, unless she quickly found her way out of the forest.
For all she knew, she might be wandering in a circle and wind up back by the mine. She calmed herself, gathered her thoughts, and realized that she must go down the mountain. Eventually, she would find a road. She plunged down a steep incline, skidding, grabbing tree trunks to slow her descent. At the bottom of the ravine, she stopped to catch her breath, then continued on.
Ten minutes later, she came to a rutted trail. She followed it down to a dirt road. It must be the same one they'd been driving on, she thought. She jogged in the downhill direction, keeping to the side of the road. Every so often she looked back over her shoulder. If a vehicle appeared, she'd be tempted to wave it down. At the same time, she knew there was a good chance it would be the sheriff, Burke, or the others. There was no doubt in her mind that they were looking for her.
The road curved and the forest fell away. Across the field in front of her was a log cabin. A thin stream of smoke twisted from a chimney, and there was a light in the window. She took one more look behind her, then dashed through the field.
As she neared the cabin, her hopes plummeted. There was no vehicle in sight and the place looked primitive. An old-fashioned well stood fifty feet from the cabin, and there was an outhouse behind it. The flickering light suggested the place was illuminated by a lantern.
She slowed to a walk just as a woman in a long denim skirt and a white blouse stepped out with a bucket and headed toward the well. The woman spotted her and stopped. Corey felt as if she'd just gone
back a hundred years. No running water and no electricity. And probably no help.
"Are you okay?" the woman asked. She set the pail down and pushed her long brown hair over her shoulder.
Corey blurted her story, pointing to the road in the direction of the mine. She kept it simple. She and her friends had stumbled upon a drug factory and drug dealers. Guns. Fighting. Shooting. And she'd escaped. She needed help. Inside the cabin a baby began to cry and the woman, who said her name was Irene, motioned for Corey to follow her. "Max is in town. I don't have any transportation. Is there someone you can call?"
"You have a telephone?"
"Sure do." The woman scooped up the baby from a crib, walked over to the kitchen counter, and picked up a cellular phone not much larger than her palm. "I wouldn't be up here without one. I'll tell you that."
Corey took the phone and tried to think who she should call. Her parents were both on the road. Her mother wouldn't be home until tomorrow afternoon. She remembered the name of Will's mother's shop: Aspen Apparel. She dialed information and got the number.
"You're calling a clothing store?" Irene asked as Corey punched the number.
"I can't call the police; they're part of the drug ring." A woman's voice answered with the name of the shop. "Mrs. Lansa?"
There was a pause. "Connors. This is Marion Connors. Are you calling about Will? What's going on?" Of course, she had a different last name. "Yes, I'm sorry. Ms. Connors, Will needs your help badly." Corey quickly explained what happened.
"Okay, I'll get help."
"You don't understand. There's no time. You have to leave right now. Do you have a gun?"
"Yes."
"Bring it and hurry! Please!"
Before she hung up, Corey handed the phone to Irene who explained how to reach the cabin.
"She said she's on her way," Irene said as she hung up. "With any luck, she should be here in half an hour. But it's slow going on these slippery roads at night. How about a cup of coffee?"
Corey shook her head. "I just hope she gets here in time."
Just then headlights beamed into the window.
Irene went to the door. She spun around. "It's a police car. Maybe you better . . .”
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