by Vella Munn
“You’re going to climb down there? Really?”
“That’s the general idea. Al’s pretty excited. I think it’s the most interesting thing he’s done in a year.”
Kim started to fold her arms, but when that didn’t feel right, she let them drop back to her sides. No! When push came to shove, the truth was, she didn’t want him in that deep, cold hole. “In your suit?” was the only thing she could think of to say.
“No. Not in my suit. I was on my way to city hall to borrow something from the public-works crew. I saw the boys. And you.”
“Oh.” Had there been an extra emphasis on the last two words? Because everything Mark said affected her in ways she didn’t understand, Kim was unable to answer her own question. “Do you…you don’t have any idea what you’ll find?”
“A little.” Mark squatted, picked up a stick and started drawing a crude map on the dusty street. “I talked to a local historian this morning. He’d already done the research so it was easy for him to explain. What caved in, as far as Dennis knows, was the main artery. Supposedly there’s a fork a few feet farther on. Dennis believes that one of the forks heads due north while the other angles off toward your grandmother’s property.”
Kim dropped to her knees. Her fingers traced the end of the second fork. “How far does it extend?”
“Dennis isn’t sure. Maybe as much as three or four hundred feet.”
“I wonder—” Kim rose quickly. “Do you think it’s possible that it goes as far as to the house?”
“I have no idea.” Mark straightened.
He was standing too close to her. There was no way Kim could think straight while he was doing that and, although she didn’t yet understand why, being able to concentrate on what he’d told her was important. “Mark? Let me change my clothes. I want to go down with you and the engineer.”
“You—no.”
“No?” Despite the danger to her nervous system, Kim squared her shoulders and turned to face Mark. “Why not? You’re going down.”
“I have a responsibility to gather as much information as I can. You have no reason to be down there.”
“Curiosity.” This was her talking? Every time she thought about the cave-in she felt chilled. If she had the sense she was born with, she’d heed the warning. Still— “It affects my family’s property. It’s causing me more of a problem than anyone else.”
“Not valid reasons, Kim. I won’t jeopardize your safety. Besides, if you were injured, you might sue the town.”
Exasperation effectively eliminated most of the distracting effect Mark had on her. “I’ll tell you what. Give me something to sign that’ll absolve the town of all blame. Mark, you’re talking to someone who has survived the big, bad city. This—” she jabbed a finger at the hole “—is a piece of cake.”
“Absolutely not,” Mark repeated. “If I make an exception with you, then other people are going to want to go down.”
Mark had a valid point, enough of one to silence Kim’s arguments. She was still upset enough that when he told her he had to go pick up a pair of coveralls, Kim simply shrugged and went to pick up her groceries.
She set them back down again as soon as Mark was out of sight. Then she reached into the Honda’s glove compartment for a flashlight. For the better part of a minute, Kim leaned against the car, lost in thought. Fighting a million emotions. She understood that Mark was concerned for her safety. The lawyer in him was doing the talking. What he didn’t understand was that she had a monkey on her back and getting rid of that was a lot more important to her than whether she got dirt on her clothes. Kim had no doubt that the three boys would have eventually talked themselves into going down into the tunnel. If they could do it, so could she.
Still, it was another minute before Kim actually pushed herself away from the car and faced what had been mocking, and challenging, and even threatening her. “Think you’ve got me buffaloed, don’t you?” she asked the hole. “Think I’m chicken, don’t you?”
There was no answer.
In a way, Kim wished there had been. That way she could have let fear make the decision. But she was staring down at a simple, shadowy hole leading to an ancient tunnel. There was nothing mysterious or sinister about that. Dozens of men had dug channels just like this one; surely none of them had been kept awake nights with thoughts of clammy hands reaching out of the dirt.
This was insane! All she had to do was crawl on her hands and knees to the edge of the hole, lower herself over the side and jump to the earthen bottom. Piece of cake.
Of course Mark would be angry, but she would be ready to come out by the time he arrived with a ladder or whatever he and the engineer were going to use.
Kim couldn’t concentrate on Mark. When all was said and done, her decision was based on nothing more than a need to prove something to herself. To put her unreasonable fear behind her. Without thinking about it further, Kim lowered herself into the hole.
It was colder underground than she’d thought it would be. Still, because the sky was directly overhead, Kim was able to keep contact with the world she knew. After a minute, her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Behind her, dirt and debris hid much of the tunnel, but she was facing a perfectly preserved corridor. It was at least three and a half feet in diameter. The soil was packed clay. Kim picked up a chunk of concrete and jabbed at the wall. It was like trying to chip away rock. “Good,” Kim said aloud. Her voice echoed. “Good and solid.” She almost believed her words.
Kim dropped to her knees, snapped on her flashlight and beamed it into the corridor. As far as she could see, the opening continued at the same height. She was only going to go a few feet, just far enough that she would have some idea what the miners experienced.
At first Kim couldn’t hear because of the pounding in her chest. But as cool silence surrounded her, she grew a little more comfortable with her surroundings. She was passing her self-imposed test; the boys, and the brave girl she’d been, would be proud of her. Twice more she tested the walls of the tunnel to convince herself that it was hard packed. When she turned around, she could no longer see the opening.
“Just a few more feet,” Kim muttered. “The fork has to be here somewhere.” Twenty feet farther on, she found it. Both forks appeared to be identical, but, because her sense of direction told her that the one to the left was more likely to head toward her grandmother’s property, she went that way. The tunnel slanted downward slightly and then leveled out. The air was stale but not bad enough that Kim couldn’t breathe in comfort. Almost in comfort, Kim amended. Her nerves were totally alive, and she had to keep talking to herself. Otherwise, the thing called fear that continued to claw at her throat might gain the upper hand. If it did, she might start screaming.
Kim would have turned back if the sides hadn’t begun to widen out. After another twenty or twenty-five feet, she was entering a room. The sense of space eased her somewhat. She guessed that whoever had dug the tunnel had come across enough evidence of gold that he’d concentrated his digging on this area.
She was now in a space as large as a small bedroom. The ceiling was high enough that she could almost stand upright. Still, Kim remained on her hands and knees. The room bothered her; there were too many shadowed spots. The walls were rough cut as if someone had hacked in one spot for a while before turning to another. Kim turned her flashlight on an area of the wall close to her, her untrained eyes seeking some sign of gold.
Nothing. Kim sensed the long-ago miner’s frustration, his despair and fear. Most of all she sensed fear. Self-control? It was elusive, almost nonexistent.
Kim began to scramble backward. She’d been a fool to come here. What was she trying to prove? That she could hold her own with some preadolescent boys? She was trying to turn around so she could head back the way she’d come when her flashlight beam revealed something in a far corner of the room. Kim swallowed down whatever was trying to spread itself through her and held the flashlight trained on the corner. Something was definitel
y there. Something—
Oh, God! Kim forgot to breathe. Her heart thudded painfully; her pulse pounded in her temples. “It can’t be!” Her voice surprised her. Kim tried again. “Stephen King? This isn’t some sick joke of yours, is it?” After swallowing, Kim tried to speak again. This time she couldn’t get the words out.
There was no mistake. She was looking at a skeleton.
Kim had no idea how long she stood frozen in place. She couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t think. A skeleton! Not in her worst nightmares—
Gradually Kim gained mastery over her fear. She was a professional, not a frightened child. She’d crawled into the past. What she was looking at had happened years ago. It couldn’t touch her now.
Still, she would give anything not to be where she was.
Slowly, not sure where the courage came from, Kim inched forward. Now that she was closer, her curiosity surfaced. Who? How? When? The skeleton was remarkably intact. She saw that it was human and adult sized. There were a few remnants of clothing clinging to the bones, but the clothes had so disintegrated that she had no idea what the man or woman had been wearing when he or she had died.
Something glinted under the glare of Kim’s flashlight. She was first startled and then curious. She crept closer until, if she was so inclined, she could have touched the skeleton. A rusted pocketknife lay a few inches beyond the finger bones.
“Who’s in there? Whoever you are, you’re not supposed to be.”
Kim jumped. A cry died in her throat. Mark! “What—” she tried. She tried again. “It’s me. Kim.”
“Kim? Damn it, I told you—” The voice was coming closer.
Kim didn’t know what prompted her to grab the knife and stick it in her pocket. Maybe, she told herself later, she just wanted some souvenir from this experience.
Mark wasn’t alone. With him was a wiry, slightly built man dressed, like Mark, in faded green overalls. The men were wearing hard hats with powerful lights attached to them. As soon as they entered the room, Kim and the skeleton were bathed in light.
Chapter Six
Mark’s eyes and thoughts went, not to the pile of bones in the corner, but the wide-eyed woman looking at him. He didn’t even notice the skeleton. For now there was only Kim. Anger, protectiveness, and something he either didn’t understand or didn’t want to admit washed over him. He should be furious at finding her down here. Instead he wanted to pull her against him and hold her until he had convinced himself that she was safe. Then…Mark wasn’t going to deal with what he wanted to do after that.
“You’re not supposed to be down here.”
“It’s too late for that, Mark. Sue me if you have to.”
Mark still wanted to embrace Kim, but it was easier to let himself be angry. “I might. What if the tunnel had caved in?”
Kim was sitting cross-legged on the dirt. Her slacks were soiled. “I checked it,” she was telling him. Her breathing was ragged, making a lie of her simple words. “It’s solid.”
“You don’t know that. It could—”
“Mark! I don’t want to argue with you.” Kim nodded to acknowledge the man with Mark, but didn’t take time to speak to him. “I found something.”
The wiry man had moved around Mark and was leaning over the skeleton. “Would you look at that.” Al whistled. “This is straight out of Edgar Allan Poe.”
“I—I wonder what it’s doing down here.” It was easier talking to the other man than trying to face Mark.
Mark crawled alongside the engineer. He didn’t speak, but Kim could hear his breathing. Startled by his angry reaction, she looked at him, but his thoughts were hidden from her. “Mark? Do you have any idea who it might be?”
“No.”
The room had seemed to warm when Mark entered it. With the clipped word, it cooled again. “What’s wrong?” Kim asked.
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.”
You’re lying to me. “I wonder how long it’s been here?” Kim said because she needed to fill the silence. “Years. Do you think he might have been a miner?” She directed her question at the other man.
“It’s anybody’s guess at this point, Ms. Revis. Makes you wonder, though, doesn’t it? I mean, people don’t usually crawl off into a tunnel to die. I wonder— Do you think it could have been murder?”
“Al. You’re letting your imagination get the best of you.” Mark’s voice was sharper than he wanted it to be. But despite being known for his ability to think in a packed courtroom, he was unable to think past the stark reality of what they’d found. Anything, anything would have been better than this.
“Maybe.” Al Strausberg touched the skeleton’s foot but didn’t try to move it. “But if he had a heart attack or something, why didn’t someone come down after him?”
Kim wasn’t interested in the engineer’s theories. Mark had backed away from the skeleton and was peering into the tunnel that extended beyond the room. Kim crawled after him. She waited until they were side by side, staring into the long, darkening corridor. “You don’t like this, do you?” she asked gently.
“No. I don’t.”
“What is it?” In another heartbeat, she would touch him. “Don’t you like enclosed spaces?”
Mark could have lied and told her she was right, but he couldn’t do that. He first removed his hard hat and then drew the flashlight out of Kim’s fingers. Al was engrossed in the skeleton. Mark could tell Kim—no, he couldn’t.
Someday his silence would trap him; Mark had no doubt of that. The only question was, when. But that time hadn’t come yet, and what time he had with Kim Revis was suddenly very, very special to him.
She had a raw courage that fascinated him and a bullheadedness that maddened him. She was intelligent and strong and rooted in reality. She had inherited her grandmother’s gentleness as well as her complexity. Margaret was one of his favorite clients, and her granddaughter was quickly becoming just as important to him.
Kim was waiting. He sensed her anticipation, her hesitancy. Although they were in shadow, he knew she was turned toward him. If he reached out, he would touch her cheeks. Her mouth was only inches away.
Mark reached. His fingers tasted her cheeks and stayed there only momentarily. He was exploring, absorbing the warmth of Kim’s throat, the strength in her shoulders, the long, smooth column of her arms.
She was trembling.
“Don’t be afraid,” he told her. His voice didn’t carry.
“I’m not.”
She felt it, too. The electricity building in them was being shared. He should turn from Kim now and return to safety, but it was already too late for that. He’d touched her, and her breath was on his throat, and he was drawn to her.
He couldn’t tell her that. They didn’t know each other well enough. Mark wasn’t sure they ever would. But they could take this moment. Even with the county engineer a few feet away, he could draw Kim next to him and take a few moments of pleasure. Sweet sharing.
Kim was frightened. This fear was nothing like what she’d felt when she came across the skeleton. Now she was afraid of herself.
She felt something deep within her reach out for Mark. This need was beyond her capacity to understand, a power with a life and need of its own. She wanted to taste and touch and smell, and draw him to her. She needed his lips against hers, their arms reaching for each other.
A touch, a kiss, that’s all it was. But in that touch and kiss, everything changed.
“What do we do? Call the police, I guess.”
Al’s question cut through the whirling of Kim’s thoughts. She felt Mark turning away and watched as he put the hard hat back on. “The police. We don’t have any choice, do we?”
“You don’t want to?”
Mark’s sigh sounded too much like a groan. He pressed his hand to his forehead. “I was just thinking, I wish we could leave whoever it is in peace. He was doing fine before we got here.”
Despite the chance that Al might see, Kim squeezed Mark’s hand. It wa
s a beautiful sentiment from a man who lived his life surrounded by laws. “I agree,” she said. “He’s been here so long, it’s a shame he can’t stay.”
“Talk about sentimentalists,” Al laughed. “The next thing, the two of you are going to bring flowers. I wonder—how much do you think the police can tell about the cause of death?”
“What does it matter?” Mark left Kim and crawled close to Al. He trained his light on the skeleton, studying it. His face was in shadows. “They’ll send it to the state crime lab. Something this old, it’s not going to have much priority. There won’t be any dental records.”
“Too bad bones can’t talk. Mark, why do you think he was left here?”
Mark took so long to answer that Kim’s alerted sense became even more alarmed. “I don’t know why he’s here Al, no one’s been in this tunnel since the 1930s. No one’s going to put those puzzle pieces together now.”
Al was still throwing out possibilities regarding the skeleton while the three returned to the entrance to the cave-in. Kim followed Mark with Al bringing up the rear. She felt much more secure now that she was flanked by the men. Occasionally the knife poked against her hip, reminding Kim of what she was keeping from Mark. She already regretted her rash action, but now it was too late to explain why she’d hidden the knife.
That wasn’t it at all, Kim admitted. She would have shown the men the knife if Mark’s mood had been fathomable. But he was edgy and distracted. If she was responsible for that mood—
Mark and Al had lowered a ladder into the hole. Although she didn’t need help, Kim accepted Mark’s hand and she emerged. He held her against him so long that she became alarmed. When she looked up at him, Mark’s mouth was smiling, but his eyes weren’t. “Going down there, that was a foolish stunt.”
“So you keep saying.” There were two Marks, one passionate and exciting, the other distant and a little frightening. “It turned out all right.”
“All right? Yeah. All right. Do you have everything you need for your report to the council, Al?”
“I think so. The tunnel’s in pretty solid shape, but I don’t know about the entrance. It wouldn’t take much for the rest of this part of the street to collapse. I want to make a point of that. One question. Do you think we should mention what we found?”