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Forgotten Soul (Soul Searchers Series: Book 1)

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by Sandra Edwards




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Author's Note

  Foreword

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Part II

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Part III

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Part IV

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Part V

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Part VI

  Chapter 32

  Part VII

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Epilogue

  Backlist

  About Sandra Edwards

  FORGOTTEN SOUL

  Soul Searchers: Book 1

  by

  Sandra Edwards

  In this opening book of the Soul Searchers, a con-artist who’s been hired to locate a buried treasure finds more than she bargains for.

  Rio Laraquette thought the legend was nothing more than an enchanted tale about star-crossed lovers who left behind a fortune. That is, until she figures out that she—in a past life—was the culprit who stole a shipment of gold and silver and buried it somewhere in the hills of northern Nevada.

  While searching for the treasure, Rio’s heart begins to ache for a man who’s been dead more than one hundred years. They say time heals all wounds, but what if it doesn’t...?

  *This book was formerly titled: Broken Wings*

  Forgotten Soul

  Copyright © 2010 Sandra Edwards

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Sandra Edwards.

  Published by SE Press

  United States of America

  Electronic Edition: October 2012

  This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.

  Dear Reader,

  The characters in Forgotten Soul have lived inside my head for many years, but it wasn’t until I moved to northern Nevada that I began to see hope for their fruition. Had it not been for my husband Bill and all those time-consuming trips up into the hills surrounding the areas of Virginia City, Carson City and Lake Tahoe, Nevada—those characters might never have seen the light of day. Because of those excursions, I was inspired to bring to life the story that’d been stewing in my brain since college.

  In Nevada I was able to wrap the seeds of my story around the state’s rich history and the Washoe Indians. I was determined to stay as true to the Washoe culture, as much as I possibly could, and in doing so I was able to mold and create an even more compelling storyline. Until finally, the endearing love story of Maggie and Tajan (pronounced Tay-hawn) found its way from my head (and my heart) and onto the pages of this book.

  I do hope you’ll enjoy the tale I’ve created in Forgotten Soul. If you’re so inclined, I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please feel free to contact me < sandra1@sandrawrites.com >.

  Sandra Edwards

  FOREWORD

  IT’S A WELL-KNOWN FACT that in 1859 two men discovered gold at the head of Six Mile Canyon in the vicinity of Virginia City, Nevada. Today, we know this great historical find as the Comstock Lode. It’s interesting how the strike ended up with that name since neither of the miners bore the name Comstock.

  As the story goes, a man named Henry Comstock stumbled upon the miners and said, “This land belongs to me.”

  History paints Mr. Comstock as a colorful character who had a knack for twisting the truth for his convenience. Sure, he’d owned the land at one time, but had long since sold it. And some say, many times over. Nevertheless, the two miners believed Henry, so much so in fact, that they named the strike after him and cut him in on the proceeds.

  As it turned out, the Comstock’s gold was hard mining, mostly because it had this sticky gooey stuff all over it. Even so, it didn’t take assayers long to confirm the gold was wrapped in silver.

  During the 1860s, over three hundred million dollars in gold and silver was quarried out of Virginia City. It only stands to reason that there must have been some thievery going on. There are many tales about robberies and roadside ambushes during Virginia City’s heyday.

  This story is one of them. A story about a treasure that was stolen and buried somewhere in northern Nevada where it has remained hidden for more than one hundred years.

  The gang of thieves was comprised of three sisters from California: Maggie, Mary and Molly Fuller. Maggie, the eldest, had strong ties to the Washoe Indians.

  Over the years, grand stories have taken shape about her. One of the most intriguing is that Maggie would return one day to reclaim the treasure. Believers have argued that she’ll retrieve it and turn it over to the tribe as a means of restitution for all their ancestors had suffered as a direct result of the Americanization of the West.

  PART ONE

  The Con

  CHAPTER 1

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  Present Day

  TURNER ATKINS was up to no-good. The stars had finally aligned for him and now all he had to do was grab them.

  He’d happened upon the perfect scam years ago, but until recently he’d thought it was forever out of his reach. It mattered little that the scheme was brilliant, not to mention illegal; Turner needed help pulling it off. And not just anybody’s help. That’s where Rio Laraquette came into the picture.

  He’d heard all about this little hotshot. She’d been running cons around town the last few weeks—cons that he’d played as a child. She’d gotten quite the rep from what he was hearing. And Turner had every intention of shutting her down—until he got a good look at her. There was something oddly familiar about her. It’d taken a little time to figure it out, but once he had he decided to give this tough little cookie a reprieve.

  He’d summoned her to the back office of one of his many warehouses. She was a looker. A pretty redhead. But she was too feisty to suit Turner. Inside of a week, he’d probably want to kill her more than he’d want to screw her.

  She was sitting across from him in one of the two chairs in front of his desk. She had her arm draped over the back of the empty chair. Looking like she owned the place, she gave him a blank stare. If she was feeling any doubt or fear, he couldn’t see it. That surprised Turner since most people were naturally afraid of him. With good reason.

  He hadn’t gotten his ruthless reputation by being a pushover. He’d risen to power early in his career and quickly gained a name for being the most brutal gangster Vegas had seen in over fifty years.

  “So…” Rio’s voice dragged Turner back to the here and now. “What exa
ctly is it that you want with me?” she asked, cool as a cucumber.

  He found her unruffled demeanor amusing. “I have a job for you,” he said. “One that’s going to pay you a whole lot more than those two-bit con jobs you got going on all over town.”

  “I’m listening.” She gave him a little waving gesture with the hand that was hanging off the back of the empty chair beside her. Anybody but Turner would have missed the necessity in her tone. She wanted to get straight to it and she didn’t like waiting.

  Tough. She’d have to know the history to get the job. “When I was a little kid we used to visit my grandmother a lot. I can remember hearing stories about buried treasures in the hills between Carson and Virginia City.”

  Oh, those glorious stories. When Turner was a kid, he loved listening to his grandmother spin her tales. She made it sound so fascinating. After a lazy afternoon of listening to her weave her yarns of mystery, robbery and romance…Turner would spend the next few days with his head in the clouds, dreaming about growing up and becoming a treasure hunter.

  “And your family history has what to do with anything?” Rio asked.

  Turner ignored her snarky attitude. He had to. Without her this thing would never work. “Ever since the first time I heard her tell one of her stories,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard Rio’s rant. “My whole life…all I ever wanted was to find me one of them treasures.” He paused, as if deep in thought. “I never put much stock in actually finding one, though. Not until a few years ago when I met this woman named Audrey Tajan. She told me this fascinating story about an Indian warrior called Tajan and a beautiful white woman named Maggie Fuller. They were her great-great grandparents,” he said. “It seems that Audrey’s great-great grandma and her sisters had a keenness for robbing banks,” he announced with pride. “During the height of Virginia City’s glory, they went up there and stole a bunch of gold and silver.”

  Rio fidgeted in her seat. Frustration tended to do that to her. It bothered her that she had worked so hard and for so long, trying to create the best opportunity to build a connection with Turner Atkins. And now that she’d finally done that, hearing folklore tales was what she was left with.

  Turner seemed oblivious to her impatience. “They buried it up there somewhere,” he continued on as if she shared his enthusiasm for the story. “But they never got the chance to go back and get it.”

  Well now, Rio thought, we’re finally getting down to the heart of the matter. Granted, this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but she’d take what she could to get on his good side.

  Rio Laraquette, treasure hunter extraordinaire. She had to admit, it did have a certain kind of charm about it, although she’d never let Turner know. She had to let him keep thinking she was the dumb redhead he’d pegged her for. “I suppose there’s a point hidden in your story somewhere?”

  Turner nodded. “There’s a point.”

  “Mind sharing?”

  He had to wonder how she’d ever managed to pull off a single con. But it was much too late to start having doubts about her now. Rio was irreplaceable. And since that was the case, it was time to spell it out clearly and see how far this little firecracker was willing to go for a buck. “My point is,” he said, “that Audrey told me her brother has half a map. It’s supposed to lead to the sisters’ treasure.”

  “Okay,” she said. “So what do you want from me?”

  “I want you to go up to Carson City and tell those Indians you’re Audrey Tajan’s daughter.” He cleared his throat. “And then...I want you to talk them into going out and finding that treasure.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” She laughed at the ridiculousness of his scheme. Hadn’t he noticed her skin was whiter than white? And she was a redhead. Who was going to believe she had Native American blood running through her veins? “What about Audrey?” she reminded him. “She can put that notion to rest.”

  Turner shook his head. “Audrey’s not going to tell them anything.”

  “And you know this…because?” Rio asked.

  “She’s dead,” he said in a cavalier tone.

  “So let me get this straight. You want me to get them to go out and look for a treasure.” She brought her arms around in front of her and clamped her hands together in her lap. “With half a map?”

  Turner opened his desk drawer and pulled out a faded and worn document. “This is the other half of the map.” He pushed it across the desk.

  Rio studied it. Could this thing be real? She looked back at Turner. “So what do you need me for?” She laid the map back down on the desk. “Why don’t you go to them and say…Hey, I’ve got the other half of the map. Let’s go find the treasure?”

  Turner’s expression turned dark. “Because I don’t want to share it.”

  It was like someone had turned on the lights and Rio realized it was Christmas morning. “You’re going steal it!” Now this was more like it.

  “With your help.”

  “And I’m helping how?” she said, playing up her dumb persona.

  “Okay, listen carefully this time.” His exasperation was beginning to shine through. “You’re going up to Carson City and find Audrey’s brother, William Tajan. You’re going to tell him you’re Audrey’s daughter. Then, you’re going to get those Indians to go out and dig up that treasure.”

  “Oh, sure...” She laughed. “I’m going to waltz right on up there with my redheaded, white ass…and they’re going to believe my mother was an Indian.”

  “They do have white blood in them, you know.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Rio snorted. She hadn’t fallen of the turnip truck yesterday. “And that was what...like about a gazillion years ago?”

  Turner returned to his desk drawer. “Oh, they’re going to believe it all right.” He pulled out an old photograph and handed it across the desk.

  She took the picture, fully intending to glance at it and hand it back. But that was before she actually got a look at it. Something about the old image intrigued her. It was a snapshot of three women, and even though it was black and white, she could tell two of them had light colored hair and the other’s was dark.

  “That’s a photograph of Maggie Fuller and her sisters Mary and Molly. It was taken up in Virginia City in 1863.” He paused for effect. “That picture belonged to Audrey.” Turner waited for Rio to look at him, but she never did. “I take it you do see the resemblance between yourself and at least two of the women in the shot?” He pointed, singling out the girl in the middle. “Especially her. She’s Maggie Fuller.”

  Rio couldn’t argue that one. Not realistically. She had to admit she and this woman Maggie Fuller looked an awful lot alike. The whole thing was a bit eerie. She felt it as she studied the photograph, the weird sensations riveting through her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “I’ll give you Audrey’s personal things. Including that photo and my half of the map,” he said. “After you locate the position of the treasure, call me and I’ll handle the rest.”

  “Where’d you get the other half of the map?” she asked, her nosiness kicking in.

  Turner hesitated about a millisecond before saying, “My grandmother gave it to me.”

  “Your grandmother...?” Rio had a hard time believing it. Turner was too fond of telling stories and he’d let this one go way too easily.

  “One of Maggie’s sisters was my great-great grandmother.”

  “Really?” It was an intriguing idea, but Rio was skeptical. “Which one?” She tossed the photograph back across the desk.

  He scooped up the picture and studied it with a quick scan before pointing to the other light-haired sister. “That one. She was my grandmother’s grandmother.”

  “Which one was she? Mary or Molly?” Now it had become a game for Rio. She wanted to see how far he could take it since she figured he was making it up as he went along. Oh, she could guess there was some truth to the story, at least about the three sisters. But Rio doubted that any of them was Turner’s grea
t-great grandmother.

  Turner mumbled and groaned before he identified her as Molly. He was getting antsy. And the last thing she wanted to do was rock the boat.

  “So let’s get to the part about all the money I’m supposed to get,” she said, tremendously poised as she changed the subject.

  He tapped a pencil on the desk. “I’m going to pay you…one hundred thousand dollars.”

  Rio threw her head back and laughed. “You’re kidding.” She settled her eyes on him again. “Right?”

  She’d discarded his offer quicker than a blink of the eye. Not only that, she’d mocked him. He wasn’t sure if that pissed him off more than it impressed him.

  Finally, she’d gone and done something that induced him to believe that maybe, just maybe he’d underestimated her. He hoped so. He’d invested too much time, effort, and money to give up now.

  Turner had been carrying this dream around for twenty years. Damn near ever since he’d run across Audrey Tajan. Now theirs had been a different kind of relationship. He’d actually liked her. Well, about as much as he could ever like any woman. Turner had never been interested in marriage or family. Apparently neither was Audrey. He’d known exactly where he stood with her. And she’d made it quite clear what was expected of him.

  As long as he kept her entertained and bought her a pretty trinket every now and then, she was happy. Audrey didn’t get jealous over other women. In fact she’d told him, more than once, she liked it that he wasn’t under foot all the time.

  Then a couple of years ago Audrey’s health started to fail. When the doctors said she had ovarian cancer, Turner was a true and dedicated friend who willingly paid her medical bills.

  But then again, maybe it had a little something to do with the fact that she’d told him her brother had half a map that led to a treasure. She’d gotten drunk one night, many years before her sickness, and told Turner about her family’s history.

  Her revelation started with the story of Maggie and Tajan and ended with her own expulsion from the family. She left home at the age of sixteen and she hadn’t been back since.

  And she had these family heirlooms; items that had belonged to her ancestors, Maggie and Tajan. Turner wanted those pieces when she died. And he’d played the devoted friend and benefactor, all because her time was limited.

 

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