Anne Marie Duquette

by She Caught the Sheriff

  “Things can’t get any worse,” she muttered.

  Then the lights went out. They shut down with a chunk, and blackness filled her eyes.

  I should’ve kept my big mouth shut.

  Caro tried to take a few more steps, tripped and fell flat on her face. Her lip started bleeding again, and she felt a sticky dampness on one knee beneath her ripped jeans. But that was nothing to the cold fear she felt at Kimberly’s words.

  “Sorry I forgot to pack an extra flashlight,” Kimberly called out. “But if you wait for me, I’ll let you share mine.” The other woman’s laughter echoed bizarrely off the rock walls.

  Honey, hire yourself a joke writer. If your bullets don’t kill me, your humor will. Caro picked herself up from the stone floor. Where’s the law when you need it?

  An image of Wyatt Bodine came to her, and she felt both longing and regret as she staggered forward in the dark. If only he was here. But as usual, she had only herself to rely on. Unfortunately she wasn’t at her strongest, especially after that truck roll.

  Kimberly changed tactics. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself…Caro. Come on out. We’ll talk. Maybe there’s a way we can resolve this.” She sounded closer.

  Caro inched forward as quietly, as quickly, as she dared. She glanced over her shoulder, and easily visible in the distance was a shaft of light—the beam from Kimberly’s torch. The other woman was headed her way.

  “Listen, I’m putting down the gun.”

  Forget it, Kimberly. I’m not falling for that one. In fact, I don’t plan on falling anywhere. I hope.

  THE GOLD VEIN grew higher, wider and more developed the deeper Wyatt went. Any other time, he would have been in awe at the bounty of riches all around him in the natural formations above his mine, the caves that sloped down toward Ellis land. This wasn’t the time. His blood alternately boiled at the thought of Kimberly and grew chilled as he worried about Morgan.

  Morgan had told him in hoarse, stark phrases about the gold beneath the Silver Dollar land.

  “The Bar E has…connecting caves to our mine…” Morgan had said after Wyatt slowly, carefully helped him into a concealed, shady area. “I figured it out when Kim… led me up here. The whole place… honeycombed with them.”

  Wyatt wasn’t surprised; he’d already figured that out for himself. What he was surprised to hear were Morgan’s next words. “Kimberly’s here, Wyatt.”

  “Here?”

  “Yes!” Morgan started coughing, then grabbed at Morgan’s canteen again. Wyatt only let him take a few careful sips, then urged, “Go on.”

  “I heard her. Sound travels…in the tunnels. Heard Caro, too.”

  Wyatt’s joy at his brother’s still being alive was tempered by fear. “What about Caro?”

  “Caro knows. Don’t know how—but Caro knows about Lem…”

  “I know, Morg. The skeleton is our great-grandfather. Caro recreated the facial features on the skull.”

  Morgan nodded his understanding. “Hugh’s father killed Lem. Hugh helped cover it up. Kimberly’s doing the same. She’s crazy, Wyatt! She tried to kill me! She’ll kill Caro, too! Find them!”

  Wyatt looked at his brother’s shattered leg, blistered lips and the vultures circling up ahead. He hated to leave Morgan behind, and it clearly showed.

  “Go, Wyatt. Now.”

  Wyatt wasn’t surprised by his brother’s words. He pulled off his canteen, then his gun and left both with Morgan.

  Morgan took the water, but hesitated to accept the gun. “Think that’s… wise?”

  Wyatt shrugged. “About as wise as you getting yourself in this mess.”

  “True enough.” Morgan took the gun and didn’t waste any more time arguing. Neither did Wyatt.

  Morgan did add one last request. “Try to save them both, Wyatt. Caro and Kimberly. I… I still love her.”

  The hard, angry part of him won over his better side— the vicious part that preferred revenge to justice. He stared at the broken, bleeding body of his brother, and wondered if Caro’s beautiful body was now broken or bleeding, too. Or even breathing. Wyatt’s face was set in hard lines.

  “If Caro’s dead, I make no promises, Morg. Do you hear me? None…”

  CARO CONTINUED her escape in the dark. She was crawling now, keeping low to the ground. The rock gouged her kneecaps, but this way, there was less likelihood of falling down a pit. And it made her a harder target for Kimberly’s gun.

  Her left knee banged against a rough stalagmite. “Ow!” she cried. She crawled carefully around the jutting piece of rock and ran smack into another. Caro clamped her lips closed, not wanting to give away her position..

  Wherever that was. She wasn’t sure, but she thought— hoped—she was now entering the old man-made tunnels of The Silver Dollar Mine.

  Come on, little bats, where are you? Guide me!

  She tried hard to focus on something other than her fear. The stench of guano seemed to be getting stronger, closer. But speed was out of the question. Just trying to hurry made her slip in a pile of slick limestone goo caused by the dripping stalactites. She felt the lime burn into her cut hands.

  “Come on!” Kimberly was saying. “We can talk this over. There’s enough gold for both of us. I’m willing to negotiate.”

  Caro refused to answer. She wiped her face with a ragged shirtsleeve and went on crawling. She bumped the top of her head on another stalactite. The dizzying, ringing pain made her less than careful as she continued forward,

  Suddenly there was nothing but air beneath her hands. Caro frantically tried to pull back, but it was too late. Her balance was severely compromised, and gravity was stronger than her tired body.

  She slipped headfirst over the ledge. Then she was falling, falling, falling. The air rushing through her hair mingled with her scream—and with the sound of Kimberly’s gun firing twice.

  WYATT HEARD the scream and something that had to be gunshots, and shuddered. The scream’s high, eerie pitch could only mean three things—fear, pain or death.

  But who was hurt? Caro? Kim? Both?

  Wyatt moved as fast as he dared. This was new territory to him, and he couldn’t traverse it with the easy familiarity he’d felt in the caves of his childhood. One flashlight wasn’t much help. The stark fact was, he was no good to either woman if he became lost and needed rescuing himself.

  He shut his eyes and listened. The sound was coming from…what direction? He couldn’t distinguish north from south, east from west, Ellis from Bodine land in here. But he could tell one thing.

  The scream came from below.

  CARO’S FALL was a long one. Her scream was totally primitive, something she could neither help nor stop. Even the sound of two gunshots couldn’t stop her shrill wail. Her scream was only cut short by her headfirst landing.

  But instead of a hard, bone-jarring stop, Caro landed with an icy splash. Water! She’d fallen into a subterranean lake. She gasped at the cold and fought to overcome the cramping of her muscles—and her panic.

  Because, no doubt about it, she was panicking. She was below the surface, she was being shot at, and her scream had depleted most of the air in her lungs. Caro kicked and clawed, unable to see surface light or the water’s ceiling. Something she’d recently read flashed through her mind—the normal temperature of most caves was a chilly forty-eight degrees Fahrenheit.

  That was wrong. Caves and cave lakes were much colder—as cold as death.

  She was underwater, totally disoriented, totally lost. Caro realized she had no idea in which direction she was swimming. She couldn’t tell up from down, left from right, nor was the sagging weight of her clothes and shoes allowing her to float. Her lungs burned from lack of air as she frantically grabbed for her feet. Thank goodness she was wearing sneakers, instead of boots! The shoes came off without having to be untied. She kicked off her jeans next, working hard for calm as the urge to breathe grew unbearable.

  Then—the hardest part of all—she forced herself to relax and
let the water take her.

  Just when she thought she’d have to gasp for air that wasn’t there, her body became buoyant. It gave her the strength to hold on longer as she began to float upward. She hastened the process by kicking like a Sonoran mule for the surface, praying the most fervent prayer of her life.

  Please, God, I’m too young to die. And then, Don’t let Kimberly hurt Wyatt. Keep him safe!

  The water, permeated with guano and lime, burned through her tightly closed eyes. Finally, finally, her head broke the surface. Caro sucked in one huge breath after another.

  From above she saw a beam of light approaching, then Kimberly’s flashlight and gun were hovering at the edge of the sinkhole. Caro chanced one last breath before diving deep into the water, just as Kimberly fired off three more rounds.

  The silence of the water enveloped her once again. Caro concentrated desperately on holding her breath. The icy chill seeping into her veins was agony. The thought of never seeing Wyatt again hurt even more. Because of the water, Caro couldn’t make out a thing, neither the enemy nor her heart’s desire.

  But then, neither could Kimberly.

  AT THE SOUND of more gunshots, Wyatt clutched the flashlight so tightly that the shape of the On-Off switch was imprinted in his palm.

  “Kimberly, no!” he shouted. It had to be Kimberly who’d fired the gun, Kimberly who’d grown up shooting tin cans in the desert with the three Bodine boys.

  The gun’s report roared through the caves, vibrating in fainter and fainter echoes. Wyatt might not be a caver or a miner, but guns were as familiar to him as a favorite horse. Those reports were as clear as neon arrows advertising cheap beer outside a border cantina.

  I’m coming, Caro, he promised. Hold on, love. He knew which way he was going now. And nothing, nothing, would stop him.

  CARO COULD STAND IT no more. She had to surface, had to breathe, had to escape the icy water before her muscles cramped beyond use. She could barely tread water as it was.

  She tried to break the water’s surface as quietly as possible, but her shirtsleeves were flapping around her arms, and she was shivering so hard her teeth tapped out Morse code.

  Caro saw the beam of light swing her way. As it did, she noticed a ledge off to the side. It wasn’t very wide, but it would get her out of the water.

  Thanks for the help, Kimberly. Remind me to send a thank-you note to whatever jail you’re residing in.

  And thank God there was another ledge above it. Kimberly would have to hike to the far side of the sinkhole to aim a flashlight—or a bullet—at her. That would buy Caro some time, maybe enough time to figure a way out of this.

  She was shivering violently now. In another few minutes she wouldn’t be able to control her chilled muscles, let alone save herself—or Wyatt. She was very close to drowning, and she knew it. The flashlight beam was awfully close to her location again, and she knew that, as well.

  Caro’s last thought before diving again was the sound of a man’s voice shouting her name.

  Wyatt? Is that you?

  “WYATT? IS THAT YOU?” Kimberly yelled.

  Wyatt immediately slowed his wild descent. He cautiously let the sound of Kimberly’s voice draw him toward her.

  “Yes.” He quickly formulated a plan—a poker bluff that might save Caro’s life. If she was still among the living. “I came to check on you!”

  “You did?” Kimberly’s voice was edgy, suspicious.

  “Yes! I think Caro killed Morgan, and she’s after you, too!” The bluff came out so smoothly. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Wyatt! Just fine!” Kimberly called back. “Where are you?”

  “Over here!”

  “I can’t see you! Wave your torch around!” she urged.

  No way in this lifetime, lady. Wyatt deliberately masked his flashlight with his hand, leaving only the faintest glow of light for himself and none for her. “Wave yours!”

  She did. Wyatt spotted it. “Gotcha, Kim!” He moved behind the shelter of a stalagmite, keeping out of sight.

  “I still can’t see you!”

  “Be quiet! Don’t let Caro hear you!” Now for part one of his plan. Wyatt decided to take the truth and twist it for his benefit. It would be easy. All he had to do was substitute Caro’s name for Kimberly’s. “She’s after the gold in my mine! She’ll do anything to get it.”

  “What gold?” Kimberly did a good job of sounding surprised, Wyatt noticed. But he wasn’t fooled.

  “Caro was looking for the original burial site of the skeleton and found a vein of gold above the Silver Dollar. That’s why she’s been following me, Kimberly! That’s why she killed Morgan!”

  Kimberly’s staged gasp would do a Hollywood director proud. “She killed Morgan? You found him?”

  “I found what was left of him.” He continued with his game plan. “I think Caro discovered the gold and wanted to keep it all. Morgan figured it out and tried to stop her. Caro must have lured him up here. The poor fool never “knew what happened.”

  “Oh, no! Your brother’s dead?”

  You rotting serpent. You left Morgan to suffer, to die slowly. You’ll pay dearly for that.

  “Really dead, Wyatt?”

  Wyatt had to fight for control at the relief in her voice. “Yes! And Caro will kill you, too! She thinks you’re her competition for me and my gold.”

  “We both know that isn’t true,” Kimberly’s voice sounded angry—and much closer. “Wyatt gritted his teeth and refused to retreat as she advanced.

  “But it is, Kimmie.” He deliberately used the old childhood diminutive, calculated to disarm. “I never knew how much I cared until today. Just the thought of Caro chasing you down here… I had to come after you!”

  “You don’t love her?” Kimberly asked eagerly. “You’ve never loved her?”

  “How could I?” How could I not? “She was the one who pushed you down the shaft yesterday, right?”

  “Yes! Yes, it was her!”

  “Kimmie, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I… I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

  Why should I? You lied to me. You lowered yourself down into that pit on a dark, stormy day, and waited in the cool shade for us while my brother lay injured. You probably still had the rope attached somewhere out of sight in case we were late.

  “Oh, Wyatt, everything’s so messed up!”

  Oh, no it’s not. Everything is crystal clear. “That’s why I’m here, Kimberly. To straighten everything out.”

  “How can you?” she wailed. “My great-grandfather killed yours. My grandfather helped. We all kept it a secret because of your gold. We never had the Bodine touch for stock.”

  Her voice was shaky. “How could you love me, Wyatt? How could anyone love a family like ours?”

  Wyatt didn’t trust himself to answer. His rage was building, and he was afraid his voice would transmit it. He drew on years of self-control until he tamed that rage, until his cool, calculating, self was back.

  Wyatt carefully tracked her beam of light, positioning himself to his advantage. She was close, very close now. Her gun didn’t frighten him. If she took him down, she was going with him. A few more steps, and—

  “Wyatt? Wyatt, where are you?” Kimberly asked plaintively. “Answer me!”

  “I’m over here!” he replied as faintly as he dared. “My flashlight’s not working.” Not working because I’ve turned it off. “We’ll never find Caro at this rate.”

  Kimberly’s sadness immediately shifted into fury. “Is that all you care about? Finding your precious Caro?”

  Damn it! Time for damage control. “Only so I know she’ll never hurt you again! I intend to lock her up for the rest of her life. She’ll pay for what she did to Morgan and for trying to come between us,” he bluffed. Take the bait, you viper. Take the bait. “She’ll pay big time.”

  “But she already has!”

  “She—How?”

  “Caro came after me, but I had my gun and I turned
the tables on her. I chased her into a sinkhole. If the bullets didn’t get her, the fall and the water did.”

  “She’s hurt?”

  “She’s gone, sweetheart! Dead!”

  “Dead?” His voice cracked and drained away, as did whatever good remained in his heart. He couldn’t nourish the flame of honor and justice anymore. The rage, the loss, the pain had him in a death grip and fired his desolation into a killing frenzy. He waited as Kimberly came closer, closer…just a few steps away.

  “It was self-defense, Wyatt. I swear it was.”

  Caro…I waited my whole life for you. I’d just started to get to know you. I’ve loved you and never even knew it until today. And you’re gone?

  “Dead?” he said again. Somehow that word overwhelmed him.

  “Yes. Yes! You should be glad!”

  Kimberly was almost within his reach. Close enough for him to grab and tear into pieces. He would kill her, kill her for what she did to Morgan and Caro. Especially Caro.

  “Morgan will rest easy,” Kimberly continued in a soothing voice. “He’s been avenged.”

  Not yet, you foul piece of carrion. Take a few more steps, you corpse. Just a few more steps. Maybe I’ll kill you slowly—like you wanted for Morgan. Or maybe I’ll kill you quickly, like—

  “Avenged by me. For us, Wyatt. For us.”

  Either way, you die today. And there is no “us.” He tensed behind the wet, dripping pillar of lime and rock. One more step. Just one more step.

  And then revenge would be his.

  CARO PULLED HERSELF up onto the tiny ledge with numbed, clumsy fingers. It was her third try. She lay panting and gasping, trying to remain quiet, trying not to splash or suck in air too loudly. She couldn’t tell if she was being noisy or not. The blood pounding in her ears and chest drowned out everything except the chattering of her teeth. Eventually her roaring pulse slowed enough to let her listen. To wait and see if Wyatt or Kimberly had left.