by Sarah Atwell
His mouth twitched. “You have a point. Fine—Cam can drive his car with you and Kevin, and I’ll take Frank with me so we can both keep Sean in line. He’s a piece of work, isn’t he? I’d guess he’s been around this track before. We follow you.”
I hesitated a moment before saying, “Matt, if this . . . doesn’t end well, or if we need medical help, you’re going to have to tell somebody what we’ve been up to.”
“We can sort that out later. Right now we need to find Allison.”
“Right. Look, Kevin’s a city boy and he doesn’t know squat about the desert. It was dark. His sense of distance was distorted. And Sean was in the lead—it isn’t clear if he checked out the place ahead of time or if he was just making it up as he went, but Kevin said he talked to some bartender in town about where to find wide-open spaces. But we’ve got a side road, some weird cactus, and a shed with a broken lock to look for.” Worse, by my guess it had to be over eighty degrees already, and it was barely nine o’clock.
“Then let’s do it,” Matt said, and led the way back to the cars.
We distributed ourselves, with Cam driving his car, Kevin next to him, and me hanging over the seat breathing down their necks.
“Okay, Cam, take it slow.” When he pulled a U-turn back onto the highway, I spoke to Kevin. “Kevin, does any of this look familiar?”
“I dunno. It was dark, and we came from the other direction. I told you, we turned away from the casino.”
“Cam, take the exit up ahead and go west.” Cam complied. I was grateful that there was no other traffic on the road, because we were crawling along like an arthritic turtle. “Kevin? Anything?”
Kevin kept fidgeting in his seat, peering left and right. “I dunno, I dunno. . . .” he muttered. “No, wait—there.” He pointed toward an unpaved track leading to the left, back into the scrub. Cam pulled over beside it. Matt in his car pulled up behind us, and he and Frank got out. We all walked over the to track and stared at the ground, looking like the bunch of clueless idiots we were.
“Tire tracks. Not too old. This road used much?” Frank said.
Matt shook his head. “We’re just west of the Pima Mine—pit mine for copper, Frank. It’s still a working mine, but it’s so damn big you could hide an elephant and nobody would notice. And nobody has much reason to come this direction. So I’d guess this is right.”
In unison, we all looked up and followed the line of the track. For a while it headed straight into emptiness, but we could see that it curved to the left a ways ahead, probably following the perimeter of the mine pit.
Matt turned to Kevin. “How long did you follow this?”
Kevin shrugged. “Not too long—Sean was worried about trashing the transmission. Maybe a couple of minutes, and then we got the woman and started walking.”
“How long did you walk?”
“Maybe another five or ten minutes. I didn’t look at a watch—couldn’t have seen it anyway. It was black dark.”
Matt took another look at the horizon. “Okay, we’ll follow the road for a mile or two, see if anything jogs Kevin’s memory. And then we’ll take it on foot. It looks as though this loops back toward the pit, and there have to be some buildings in that direction.”
Dutifully we trooped back to our cars and resumed our snail-like progression. The road did in fact curve to the left and drew closer to the pit.
For someone who has never seen an open pit mine, it had to look like a Martian landscape. Set in the middle of fairly flat scrub, the pit sank more than 1,500 feet into the earth, and it was a mile or more across. In the depths, machines toiled to scoop out rock and ore. From the edge they looked like TinkerToys, but I knew that a single tire on one of them could be twelve feet tall. Most of the official activity took place along the road to our north, but that was a couple of miles away. On this side there was only open desert, and nobody paid us any attention. The area had been mined for decades, and there were derelict buildings, long since outgrown or outworn, dotting the landscape. The kind of place nobody would look at from one year to the next—a perfect place to hide someone, alive or dead.
“It’s been two miles. Does this look right, Kevin?” Cam asked.
“Maybe. I don’t know. I couldn’t see all that”—Kevin waved vaguely at the pit, dry and dusty in the relentless sun—“in the dark last night. Damn, it’s big!”
“Kevin.” I had to interrupt his appreciation of the scenery. “You stopped the car and then you walked, right? Obviously you didn’t walk toward the pit. Which way did you go?”
With effort, Kevin tore his eyes away from the pit and scanned the scene before us. Empty. Nothing moved, unless you counted the heat shimmer. He pointed. “That way. I think.”
We stopped and got out of the car, and were quickly joined by Matt and Frank.
“You leaving Sean in the car?” I asked Matt. I knew how hot a car could get in this sun—and how quickly.
“He’ll live,” Matt said grimly. “Where, Kevin?”
“He says that way.” I pointed southwest.
Frank had started prowling around, staring at the ground. “Looks right. Three people, in the dark—they left a trail a blind man could follow. Come on, then.”
We formed a solemn procession, with Frank in the lead, eyes intent on the ground. Then Matt, escorting Kevin. Then me, trying to stay close to Kevin and keep Matt from intimidating him. Cam brought up the rear silently. But Frank didn’t seem to need any guidance and moved steadily in one direction, away from the track and the mine pit. Once he paused to study the scene before him. Then Frank stopped, and we all but piled into him. “Got something—there. See it?”
We looked where he was pointing, and saw what our eyes had missed: a ramshackle shed, barely a lean-to, its boards weathered nearly to the color of the sand. And on the near side, one of those peculiar knobby saguaros.
Kevin piped up, eagerness and relief mingled in his voice. “Yeah, and that’s the funny cactus. I remember it.”
With our goal in sight, Matt took the lead, and we scrambled as quickly as we could over the intervening sand. I was panting with the effort, or maybe it was my heart trying to crawl up my throat. I found I was mumbling beneath my breath: “Please, please, please . . .” She couldn’t be dead. It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t done anything wrong. We were all innocent of anything. We hadn’t known about the diamonds. We’d done what Sean had asked us to do.
We had reached the lean-to, its splintered door hanging ajar. Matt abandoned Kevin to my care and wrenched it open.
There are moments when the world seems to stand still. Or time stretches. I had time to contemplate a lot of unpleasant things as Matt disappeared into the dark interior of the shed. If he found a corpse, our lives, singly and collectively, would follow one fork in the path of the universe. If Allison was alive, another fork. A bright and happy fork. We waited an interminable second, two, three. Was Matt’s silence good or bad?
Finally Cam muttered an indistinct curse and moved forward—in time to meet Matt emerging from the dark with Allison, dusty, disheveled, but unquestionably alive. She was clutching a flask of water, which I hadn’t noticed that Matt was carrying. The perfect Boy Scout, always prepared—handcuffs and water, no problem. I wondered what else he might be hiding in his pockets.
Allison blinked a few times in the bright sunlight, then her gaze lighted on Cam, and she all but tore herself from Matt’s arms and flung herself at Cam. He caught her without a fumble and hung on, and the two of them stood intertwined as if carved in stone. I couldn’t watch, so I turned back to the others. Matt was smiling; Frank was grinning like a fool. Kevin looked five years younger. I guess escaping a murder rap could do that to you. Personally I felt about fifty pounds lighter.
I cocked an eyebrow at Matt, and he said, “She’s fine. Dehydrated, but she wasn’t out here all that long. And I’d say she’s got what she needs at the moment.” He nodded toward the lovebirds, still tangled up with each other. We all devoted the next fi
fteen seconds to feeling good, which was a pleasant change from the past twenty-four hours, or the week, for that matter. We’d rescued the Fair Maiden, we’d caught the Villains, and justice would be served. All over but the paperwork.
Matt’s mind seemed to be following the same track as mine. “I guess it’s time to face the music. We should go back to the station and get these two wiseguys locked up.”
“You back on duty, then? Okay, what do we have to do?”
“Reports. Charges.” Matt grimaced. “Frank, uh . . . how can I put this? You’ve been of great assistance to our inquiry, but is there anything I should know about before I mention your name officially?”
“You mean, am I on the up-and-up? No worries. I’m in the country legally, I’m an honest merchant, and I’m just here to visit my niece.”
Something about his voice finally roused Allison. “Uncle Frank?” she said incredulously.
“One and the same, darlin’. You’re the spitting image of your mother, God rest her soul.”
“But . . . what are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Long story, but I think Matt will want to hear it. You ready to pack up?”
Matt nodded. “All right, new orders. I take Sean and Kevin with me, straight to the station, and get them booked. Cam, the rest can go with you.”
I held up a hand. “Hold it. Do you need us immediately? Because if you can wait a half hour or so, I think showers are in order, all around, and then maybe some food for Allison. And then we can sort out the whole mess.” One must have priorities, and now that the suspense was over, personal hygiene had leapt to the top of the list. Plus I wanted a little time to mull over what had happened, although that I could do under running water.
“Good idea. See you at the station, then. Allison, you’ll be swearing out a complaint?”
Allison stood up straighter. “That I will. And that’ll be the last of Jack Flannery and his lot, right?”
Lovely though it was to wallow in feeling good, there was something I had to say. “Matt, can I have a word with you?”
He cocked an eyebrow at me, then strode a few paces away from the group, and I followed. When we were out of earshot he said, “What?”
I swallowed. “Matt, are you going to get in trouble over . . . all this?”
“Nice of you to worry about that, Em—if a little late.”
Was he being sarcastic? It was hard to tell. But he must have sensed my confusion, because he went on, “I’m going to have to admit that, uh, my actions were somewhat unorthodox, but a good outcome should make people more willing to overlook that.”
“Matt, I’m sorry I dragged you into all this. Or maybe I’m sorry that I didn’t ask for help from the start, and I really appreciate everything you’ve done, and . . .”
I was blathering, and he interrupted me. “That’s for later, Em. Let’s get Sean and Kevin sorted out first, okay?”
I nodded in relief and followed him back to the group.
Matt escorted Kevin back to his car, which left the four of us standing around in the desert smiling at each other. Allison had managed to put a few inches between herself and Cam, but she hadn’t lost contact with him. Heck, I felt like hugging Frank, but I restrained myself.
“All right, then, back to the studio. Oh, drat—I have to tell Nessa what was going on.”
“I’m sure she’ll wait. But you’d better make it fast. Once this hits the news, you might have more business than you can handle,” Cam joked, relief oozing from his pores. “Stolen diamonds! Chicago mobsters! Murder and kidnapping! Live at six!”
I swatted him playfully, but he had a point. “Then let’s go get clean for the cameras.”
Chapter 23
fire polishing: reheating a finished piece at the glory hole to remove tool marks or a dull surface (Phoebe Phillips, ed., The Encyclopedia of Glass)
It wasn’t that simple.
The first part of the plan went just fine. Cam dropped Frank at his hotel, then drove back to my place in bemused silence, Allison drooping beside him. I restrained myself from asking any questions, since I wouldn’t have heard much from the backseat. Plus I knew we’d have to run through the whole thing again with Matt at the police station. I could wait, now that I knew everyone was safe.
When Cam pulled in behind the studio, I was oddly surprised to see that everything looked quite normal. The sun was shining, the working day had begun, and people were out on the streets doing perfectly ordinary things— things that didn’t include murder, kidnapping, and stolen diamonds. Had it really been only a few hours since we had left for the rendezvous?
Nobody moved, so I got out first and, leaning on Cam’s side, handed him my keys. “Cam, you go ahead—I’ve got to check in with Nessa. Let Allison have the first shower, and you feed the dogs and walk them, okay?”
He stared at me blankly for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. Fine.”
When I headed for the shop door, he was handing Allison out of the other side of the car as though she were fragile crystal. I knew she was a lot tougher than she looked, but why spoil his fantasy?
When I walked into the shop, Nessa was organizing the cash drawer and said, without looking up, “Late this morning, aren’t we?”
“I, uh, didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
Something in my tone must have attracted Nessa’s attention, because she looked up at me then. “Good heavens, you look like something the cat dragged in! Are you all right?”
I took a quick look down at myself: My clothes were a bit the worse for wear and were covered with sand and dust. “I’m fine, Nessa. In fact, everybody’s fine. And thanks for asking. But I don’t have time to explain right now—I’ve got to get back to the police station. Can you cover for the morning, and maybe longer? I promise I’ll tell you all about it later. Oh, and can you see about getting that back lock replaced again?”
Nessa, bless her heart, did not pry. “Is everyone else all right?” she asked. When I nodded, she said, “Then no problem. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
I ducked out of the shop and went up the stairs, my feet dragging. It had been a very long day—and night— and my energy was definitely ebbing. And it wasn’t even over yet. We still owed Matt the full story. I had to admit I was curious myself about how the pieces fit together.
When I opened the door, Fred and Gloria came bounding toward me. I could tell they were happy to see me, and I squatted down and let them sniff all the good smells I’d collected, and I accepted doggie kisses in return.
Cam came over, and I straightened up, not without a few creaking joints. “They’re fed, and I’ll take them out now, if they can tear themselves away from you,” he said. “Allison’s in the shower—you can go next, and then me.”
“Everything okay?” I asked, not sure what I was referring to. Allison? Cam and Allison? The world news? God, I was tired.
“Sure. She’ll be glad when we get through the wrap-up. We could all use some downtime, I think.”
“You’ve got that right,” I said as I slipped past him. I heard the door close behind him and walked the several miles to my room, where I stripped off my dusty clothes and dumped them in a heap on the floor. I pulled on a robe and emerged from my room just as Allison came out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel.
She laid a hand on my arm. “Oh, Em—I never had a chance to say thank you! It all seems like a bad dream—I was sure no one would ever find me out there. If it hadn’t been for you and Matt, and Cam, and—Uncle Frank! Do you know, I haven’t seen him since I was a child? I was sure I was dreaming when he appeared. Whatever is he doing here?”
“I’ll let him explain it—I’m not sure I can. And no thanks required. Look, let me get cleaned up, and then we can go talk to Matt and sort everything out. And keep drinking water; you’re still dehydrated.”
I went past her into the bathroom, shucked off the robe, and headed straight for the shower. I let the tepid water run over me for I don’t know
how long. I could almost understand why water played such an important role in baptism—I was letting the shower wash away all the confusion and terror of the last few hours, or days. No more deaths, God willing. No more thugs creeping around in the dark hours, threatening me. Nothing but honest work. I wanted to get back to my life. And maybe make a few improvements. For instance, I wanted to see more of Cam—and I had a suspicion that if Allison stayed in Tucson, I would.
Regretfully, I turned off the shower and toweled myself dry. By the time I came out of the bathroom, decorously clad in my robe, Cam and the pups had returned. “It’s all yours, baby brother,” I told him, and went to find clean clothes suitable for a formal interview at police headquarters.
At headquarters we were received with pomp and circumstance. Well, that might be overstating it, but at least we weren’t asked to cool our heels in the waiting area for long. Matt emerged from somewhere in the bowels of the building; the fact that he came himself, rather than sending a flunky, signaled our importance. As I watched him approach, I thought he looked as tired as I felt. He’d been up all night too. I also worried that he looked less happy than he should, given that he’d just solved two murders and a kidnapping, all in one fell swoop. And before breakfast.
“Ladies. Cam,” he said gravely. “If you’d follow me, please?”
He led us down a corridor or two, then stopped to let us enter a conference room. Not an interrogation room, I was glad to see, although I wasn’t sure they had one that would hold all of us at once. Frank was already there, and he bounced up out of his seat at the sight of us. “Welcome, welcome! Allison, my love, you’re looking radiant! When we’ve sorted all this out, we must catch up.”
“Uncle Frank,” Allison said, overwhelmed by his enthusiasm.
She took a chair next to him, and Cam followed like a faithful dog, taking the chair on the other side of her. That left me alone on the opposite side of the table, and Matt took a chair at the head of it.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” Matt said. “I’ve asked for lunch to be brought in, so we can get through this all in one shot.”