by David Wood
Lilith shrugged. “Lots of tweets. And of course, you’ve got the Saroyans.”
Rockwell buried his face in his hands. “That poor guy. He’s allegedly an adult. I mean, raw water? It’s like my speech bounced off him.”
“His sister is not completely hopeless.” Lilith had never dreamed she would have something positive to say about either of the Saroyans, but she always acknowledged a woman’s strengths as a matter of principle. She could tell that Spenser, like herself, was a sharp analytical thinker. The fact that they shared this trait was a source of ambivalent feelings. The girl had potential, but at the end of the day she was still a social media personality.
“What about the others in your group? Dakota kept me so occupied I didn’t get to chat with them. Any potential there?”
“Jashawn Powell works for NutriMax and they’re already on board with us. The other two are Grizzly’s friends, Maddock and Bonebrake. The ex-military fellows who were there to make sure the course wasn’t too difficult for us common folk.” Rockwell nodded. “Yeah, they seem like decent guys. See what you can learn about their time in the service. If there are no skeletons in their closets, it wouldn’t hurt to have the endorsement of a couple of veterans.”
“Will do.”
“All right. Anything specific that needs my immediate attention?”
Lilith scanned her notes one more time and then shook her head. “Other than the housing demographics issue? No. Looks like you get to play Choose Your own Adventure today.” She stood, stretched, and yawned.
“I guess I kept you up too late,” Rockwell said. “Sorry about that.”
“I don’t mind.” Her eyes fell on a map of the Salton area. Bright red lines and dashes cut across the surface. “What is that?”
“The latest fault line map.” Rockwell sat down at his desk then turned the map around. “Geologists think this area could be rife for California’s next big earthquake.” His finger traced the series of red lines that ran along the eastern shore of the Salton Sea and up into Coachella Valley and beyond. “They found what they call a ‘highly faulted volume of rock’ that is nearly four kilometers wide in places.”Lilith knew the San Andreas Fault extended all the way down through Salton, but she’d never thought of this as earthquake country. The thought made her feel slightly ill. “Can you imagine a major earthquake striking Coachella or Palm Springs?”
Rockwell turned and gazed out the window.
“It would change everything, wouldn’t it?”
Chapter 7
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“That’s where we spotted Shipman.” Maddock pointed in the direction of the pathway that ran down the slope and vanished among the boulders and low growth clinging to the parched hills up ahead. The limited research they’d done on the Lost Arch Gold Mine hadn’t uncovered anything beyond the well-known version of the legend, and certainly nothing that connected it to the area around the Salton Sea. He, Bones, and Spenser decided to explore the area where they’d last spotted Shipman to see if they found anything interesting. Dakota had opted to remain at the ranch to rest up from the previous day’s ordeal. Maddock would have preferred only Bones as company, but if he had to deal with one of the brother-sister team, Spenser was by far the more palatable choice.
“Lead the way,” Spenser said.
The footing was uncertain, the way steep, and they skidded in a cloud of dust down to a level spot.
“Falling!” Spenser called. Maddock turned around just in time for her to crash into him. He caught her around the waist and for a moment was hyper aware of her body pressed against his. “Thanks for the catch,” she said breathlessly as she clung to him, showing no sign of letting go.
“No problem.” He released his grip on her and quickly stepped back.
“This seemed like a much longer trek last time,” she said. “It hasn’t even been an hour since we set out.”
“That’s because we were following the racecourse yesterday,” Bones said.
“Today we took a more direct route.”
Spenser nodded, looked around. “Well, what’s the plan? Just follow the path and see where it takes us?” she asked brightly
“That’s the general shape of it,” Maddock said. “Let’s have Bones take the lead.
He’s got sharp eyes and might spot something you and I overlook.”
“Translation—the white guy thinks that just because I’m Native American that means I’m an expert tracker,” Bones said as he moved past them and took the point.
“No, I think you’re an expert tracker because you are one.”
“I know,” Bones said. “I just like hearing you admit it.”
The way grew rough and the pathway faded into nothing, but Bones was more than up to the task of tracking Shipman. He picked out the occasional partial footprint, scuff mark, or broken branch. Soon they were inching along a narrow ledge twenty feet above a pile of jagged rocks. They moved slowly, their bodies pressed against stone warmed by the intense sun.
“This would make a great shot!” Spenser said. “Grizzly could climb around this and if the camera angle is just right, it will look like he could fall to his death.” “The drop is far enough that we should probably focus on the task at hand at the moment,” Maddock said.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
They reached the other side to find themselves looking up at a high rocky face.
There was no obvious way up or around it.
“You’re certain he came this way?” Maddock asked.
“Yep. At least, somebody came here recently.”
“He must have climbed to the top.” Before anyone could stop her, Spenser began scaling the rock face.
“Dude, you should really plan out your path before you free climb,” Bones warned.
“Who says I didn’t? I’ve been climbing for years.” They couldn’t deny the young woman climbed well. Already she was halfway up, moving with confidence. The feat was particularly impressive since, at just a shade over five feet tall, she didn’t have long legs or a wide wingspan, which meant that many footholds and hand- holds were beyond her reach.
Maddock and Bones took a bit more time to choose their own routes to the
top. When free climbing, it was important to plan ahead and pick out handholds and footholds all the way to the top. Otherwise, a climber might end up stuck, able to go neither go up nor down. They were about to begin when Spenser called down them.
“Um, guys? I think I’m sort of stuck.” Sure enough, Spenser had run out of handholds about six feet from the top. “I can hold on, but I don’t think I can climb back down.”
“We’ll be right there,” Maddock said.
Bones scrambled up the rock, headed up to the ledge, while Maddock began climbing in the direction of the stranded young woman. By the time he reached her side, she was breathing heavily, and her body was slicked with sweat—an unusual sight in this arid climate.
“I’m hanging in there. Literally.” She forced a smile.
“You’ll be fine,” he assured her.
He was wrong. At that moment, Spenser let out a cry as one of her feet slipped and she began to fall.
Maddock moved with lightning-fast reflexes and a touch of recklessness. He jammed his right hand into a crack in the rock and made a fist. At the same time, he caught Spenser by the belt and arrested her fall.
“Did anybody bring a clean pair of underwear?” she joked when she was once again on firm footing.
“Sorry, don’t wear any,” Bones called out from up above. He didn’t see anything promising.
Maddock scanned the cliff face directly above them, looking for a way up.
“When you were planning out your route, what was it you saw up here that made you think you could make it all the way to the top?”
“I didn’t look very carefully before I started,” she admitted, her cheeks going pink. “I wanted you guys to see that I really am a good climber. Joke’s on me, huh?”
“Thanks. Not really in the mood to accept an undeserved compliment, but your efforts are noted and appreciated.”
“Okay, chick,” Bones called. “Time to give you the belt.”
He hung down over the ledge as far as he dared and dropped the looped end of his belt down. Spenser grabbed on with one hand. While Bones and Maddock helped her along, she climbed the last several feet to the top. When she was safe,
Maddock joined them at the top.
“I was first to the top, as usual,” Bones said.
“Whatever.” Maddock looked around. Before them, loose boulders were piled against the mountainside. They were large, all at least four feet across.
“They look like a giant’s toy blocks,” Spenser observed. She took out her phone and began snapping photographs. “Nice view from up here.”
“Would Shipman really climb up here just for the view?” Bones asked.
Maddock shook his head. There had to be more here. He inspected the rock pile.
“There’s something odd about this formation. It’s not like a natural rockfall. It really does look like someone loosely stacked them.”
“Who could do that?” Spenser asked.
“Oh, I’m sure it’s just an odd natural formation, but my point is, there are wide spaces between some of these boulders, some large enough for a person to climb through.”
“I think you’re right. Hang back for a second and let me take a look.” Bones took a few minutes to give the ground in front of the rockfall a close inspection. Finally, he beckoned them over. “Look in there.” He pointed into a tight passageway.
“Someone’s been here and tried to obscure their tracks, but they left a partial handprint.”
Maddock saw it, noticed the direction in which the fingers pointed. “It looks like whoever left the print was on the way in, not out.”
Bones shrugged. “Could be. Or they’ve already been in and out and just happened to miss that print. Either way, we’re not turning around, are we?”
“Of course not.” Maddock got down on all fours and crawled into the dimly lit crevice between two massive boulders. It was a snug fit for him, and Bones would find it a very tight squeeze, but they could make it. He squeezed through a series of tight turns, all the while smiling at Bones’ grunts and complaints. They hit a couple of dead ends along the way and were forced to turn back.
“Is treasure hunting always like this?” Spenser asked. “Crawling around in the dirt.”
“Not always,” Bones said. “Sometimes it’s really boring. Like when Maddock makes you work a grid ‘just to be thorough’ even though we know exactly where a shipwreck is.”
“You guys have found sunken ships?”
“One or two,” Maddock said.
They finally emerged in an open space large enough for them to stand. Lances of sunlight pierced the dust cloud they’d stirred up and illuminated the bizarre sight that stood before them.
A heavy iron door was set in the mountainside. Its surface was pitted with rust, but it remained sturdy, its heavy hinges set deep in the stone. It stood ajar, and Maddock could see that it unlocked only from the outside.
“It looks medieval,” Bones observed. “Why would you set an iron door in the side of a mountain like this?”
“It could have been a secure area where miners stored their explosives,” Maddock offered. “Although I’ve never seen one this heavy duty.”
“This would be a strange place to store explosives.” Spenser asked. “Scale the cliff and then crawl through that maze while shoving a crate of dynamite in front of you?”
“Point taken,” Maddock said. “Simply getting this door up here would have taken at least a couple of very strong people. Maybe the answer lies on the other side of the door?” He and Bones took out their Maglites and were surprised when Spenser did the same.
“What?” She frowned at their twin stares. “I always carry one when I’m hiking.
You never know what kind of hole you might climb into.”
“How do you know so much about Maddock’s love life?” Bones said.
Spenser winced but smiled. Maddock ignored him. He approached the door slowly, shone his light inside.
Beyond the door lay a small, soot-blackened cave. A trickle of water ran down the wall to pool in a small depression in the rock. To the right, bits of straw and scraps of fabric lay flattened to the floor like a worn-out scrap of carpet.
“What the hell is that?” Bones directed the beam of his light to a chain and leg iron anchored to the stone floor.
They moved inside. Spenser could stand up straight, but Bones and Maddock had to hunch.
“You did say it looked Medieval,” Maddock said to Bones.
“I think I know what this place is.” Spenser’s voice came in a whisper. “We all thought it was just a campfire tale.”
“We’re all ears,” Bones said. Spenser let out a sigh and sat down on the dusty cave floor. Maddock and Bones followed suit. “If anybody makes a crack about me sitting Indian style,” Bones warned.
“The story goes like this,” Spenser began. “Back in the 1800s, a miner’s wife gave birth to a badly deformed baby. He grew into a huge, hideously deformed thing that was more monster than man. His family kept him hidden, but eventually he became so violent and erratic that they had to take steps. Not having the heart to kill him, they instead locked him up in a mountain cave with a door that bolted from the outside. He had a supply of water, and his father would bring him food. One day the father arrived at the cave to find the door open and his son gone. “He searched far and wide but couldn’t find him. The family believed their son had fled out into the desert and died. But then the rumors began. People reported seeing a monster lurking around the desert at night. Thefts were reported, mostly food. As the rumors swirled, and a few eyewitnesses claimed to have gotten a look at the man they called the Mojave Monster, the father could no longer deny that his son was still alive. He set out in search of his son, but before he could find him, the killings began. Ranchers were found beaten and strangled to death. And then a child was kidnapped. The ranchers teamed up to go after the monster.”
“So, what happened?” Bones asked.
“It depends on which version of the story. In some versions, the monster murders the child and is killed, either by the mob or by his own father. In others, he’s brought back here and chained to the wall for the rest of his life.”
They fell silent for a moment, contemplating the tale.
“That’s grim,” Bones said. “So, assuming that’s what this place is, what would Shipman or anyone else want with it?”
Maddock didn’t have an answer. While Spenser took out her phone and began snapping photos and making notes for Grizzly, he began a thorough inspection of the small prison.
It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for. Spenser sat on a three-foot-wide slab of stone pressed against the far wall. Unlike all the other stone surfaces, it was free of soot.
“Could you stand up for a second?” he asked.
Bones read his mind. As soon as the young woman had stepped out of the way, he leaned down and shoved the slab aside to reveal an opening.
“There’s a tunnel back here,” he said, shining his light through. “Man-made. Can’t tell where it leads.”
“Can you squeeze through?” Maddock asked.
Bones smirked. “I can get through fine. It’s your swollen head I’m worried about.”
The opening proved to be little more than a hole in a thick rock wall that opened into a passageway that wound away into the darkness.
“Holy crap,” Bones said. “This is a natural formation. There’s no telling how far back it might go or how many caverns and corridors these mountains might hide.”
“Spoken like a true treasure hunter,” Maddock said.
Spenser couldn’t contain her excitement. “You guys, Grizzly i
s going to freak when he finds out about this. It literally makes no difference if he finds any treasure. This is going to make for amazing television.”
“If I were you, I’d report everything directly to Riv and let her decide what Grizzly needs to know and what he doesn’t,” Maddock said.
She nodded and pushed a stray lock of golden blonde hair out of her face. “I’m going to go back outside and take some video as if we’re just discovering the dungeon room, or whatever the hell we’re calling it. I think Grizzly will like that.” She turned and climbed back out.
“I saw you checking her out,” Bones said.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Why not? She’s cute, smart, likes to climb, doesn’t mind getting dirty. And she’s into you. What the hell is wrong with you, anyway?”
Maddock was spared the need to reply when Spenser called out to them.
“Guys?” She sounded confused and maybe a bit frightened. “I think somebody locked us in.”
Chapter 8
––––––––
Spenser was right. The iron door was sealed shut. They tried brute force, but it was more than their match. Try as they might, they could not get it to budge.
“No point calling for help,” Bones said. “The only person within earshot is probably the same person who locked us in here.”
Maddock nodded. “Must have been hiding in the rocks eavesdropping on us. Locked us in once we moved beyond the dungeon.”
“But why?” Spenser asked, trying in vain to call 911.
“It’s got to be Shipman,” Bones said. “We know his secret now. He couldn’t let us report back to Grizzly, so he locked us in.”
“To die?” Rather than fearful, Spenser sounded affronted. “What could he be hiding up here that is worth killing us over?”
“I’d like to know the answer to that question myself,” Maddock said. “And since we’re not getting out this way.” He rapped on the iron door.
Bones grinned. “Maddock, I like your thinking.”
They returned to the natural cavern and began to explore. They periodically marked the walls to track their passage. Spenser did her best to sketch out a map of the passageways, but it was a challenging task. Some of the tunnels corkscrewed downward, others crisscrossed. It was confounding.