The Shadow

by Thurlo, Aimée

  Jonas hurried outside and peered in the cab. “The keys are in here. Let’s go.”

  “What about the sheriff’s department?” she added, climbing in the passenger side and placing the computer on the floor.

  “They should be on the way,” he answered, knowing the Brotherhood would alert them.

  The route north had several sharp corners and side roads, most circling orchards, and fields that had once been cultivated with corn and alfalfa. They took the most traveled route. As Grant’s home became visible in the distance, Jonas’s cell phone rang.

  He listened for a moment, then closed it up with one hand.

  “The woman who looks like Jen is Tina Gonzales. Her last employment on record goes back a decade. She worked as a housekeeper for a local service that had dozens of clients.”

  “That’s why I remember her,” Emily responded, the memory clear in her mind now. “She cleaned for the Woods family for a while. I’d be at the bus stop and see her turning off the highway in her old VW bug. What happened to her?”

  “She disappeared April 28, ten years ago.”

  “My mom went missing on May 1, ten years ago,” Emily said in a shaky voice. “Do you think…”

  “Don’t speculate, Em. Not now,” he said quietly. “Take it one moment at a time.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Spotting a stretch of split-rail fencing that appeared to be in a bad state of repair, Jonas glanced over at her. “Where are the outbuildings from this location?”

  “We’ll have to go by the house, then turn east,” she said.

  “Good. I wanted to check the residence first, anyway. But we need to plan our approach carefully. Grant could be watching for us from the second-floor windows.” It took him only a second to make up his mind. “Hang on. We’ll make a road of our own.”

  A moment later, he swerved the truck and crashed through the old wooden rails, cutting across the field, now overgrown with weeds. Jonas eased off the accelerator as they fishtailed on the soft earth. Quickly regaining control, he steered toward the grounds surrounding the solitary ranch house, on the alert for gunfire.

  A white pickup was parked at the rear of the building. Jonas kept a sharp eye on the windows facing south, but there was no sign of movement, and their approach went unchallenged. He pulled up a hundred feet from the house.

  The rear entrance, leading into a kitchen, was open, the screen door swinging gently in the breeze.

  “That tends to indicate he rushed out of there, but can we trust it?” Emily asked.

  “No. Grant’s other truck might be parked on the north side, out of view, so we can’t lower our guard. Just in case he’s still here, I’m going in alone,” Jonas said, stepping out on the driver’s side, but leaving the engine running. “Get behind the wheel and be ready to pull up to the house fast, or drive off, depending on how things go.” Not giving her a chance to argue, he moved forward in a crouch to check out the white pickup.

  She slid behind the steering wheel, and watched Jonas circle around the building, not taking the bait of an open door. Seconds dragged by, then a minute, and more.

  Five minutes later, he came out the kitchen door, holding a black box, and motioned for her to drive over.

  Emily did so, then moved back to the passenger side as he jumped in behind the wheel. “Nobody was home, and there was no basement or secret room,” he said, handing her the box. “I found this under a bed when I was looking around. Open it while I head to the outbuildings, but don’t touch what’s inside, at least not directly. If you have to move stuff around, use my penlight,” he added, passing it to her.

  “There are more photos of Tina here.” Emily jiggled the box to see what lay beneath, and inhaled sharply as a pair of broken, retro-style women’s glasses came into view. “These are my mom’s.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “She loved those red frames with the large lenses—even when dad teased her and insisted she get rid of them. Look at the way the temple’s glued together. She’d broken them, and the model had been discontinued, yet she refused to part with those glasses.”

  As they drove away from the house, down the tree-lined lane, he pointed. “Roofs ahead.”

  Slowing to a crawl, he inched the truck around a corner lined with brush taller than the top of the pickup. Stopping, he backed up several feet, then parked at an angle, blocking the road. “If he’s here, he must have heard us coming. Driving into such a narrow field of fire makes no sense to me so we’ll leave the truck here and go in on foot.”

  He took the lead as they ducked into the brush to the left, then circled around the buildings. When they drew closer, he could see a large shed and a barn with sliding doors, one open far enough to reveal horse stalls within. Both structures were painted the traditional barn red, but were fading badly. It looked as if no one had done any major upkeep on them for years.

  “To my knowledge, Grant sold all the horses after his mother and father died. He has, or had, a few head of cattle, but the good grazing land is farther north and east.”

  They stayed still for a while, listening, but heard only the rattling of a loose piece of corrugated metal from one of the roofs.

  “Let’s move in,” Jonas finally whispered.

  They approached the shed, using a stack of moldy, yellow-brown hay to shield their approach. The wooden building was empty except for a rusted out stock tank lying on its side. The wallboards on the inside had never been painted, and were gray and worn where the elements had taken their toll. Cobwebs, many of them coated with dust, suggested that no one had been in here for months—years perhaps.

  “Barn next,” he said, staying low.

  The shed provided them with cover, and they were able to dash across the gap between buildings. They circled around the barn, which was in much better shape, then entered silently through a rear door.

  Empty horse stalls lined both sides of the building, and there was a low stack of good alfalfa hay along the center. It was obvious that this building was still in use.

  As Jonas walked down the line, Emily opened the door to the first stall and stepped inside.

  “There’s fresh hay scattered all over the floor here, but no obvious sign of an animal. I don’t see a feeder or water container, either. What about the other stalls?” she asked.

  He came back to join her. “The other stalls are clear, and relatively clean and empty.”

  “The fresh bedding must be here for a reason. Maybe the animal’s outside.” Emily walked to the paddock area next to the barn and looked around. “There are no animals tracks leading out here. Come to think of it, there are no tracks at all.”

  “We should at least be able to see ones belonging to whoever maintained this stall. Looks like someone’s been careful to rub out their tracks,” Jonas said. Heading back into the barn, he looked around. “That window,” he said, pointing to the loft above them. “It’s like the one in the photo.”

  Emily moved toward the center of the stall to get a better look, and as she did, heard her footsteps—something unexpected on the thin layer of alfalfa.

  “Hollow,” she mouthed, gesturing beneath her.

  He drew his weapon and motioned for her to step back. On one knee, and using silent, short strokes, he brushed aside the green leaves and stalks, uncovering what lay beneath—a thick wooden trapdoor held shut with a metal bar.

  Staying to one side of the opening, he slipped out the metal bar, then pulled the trapdoor open. A wooden ladder led down into a small room.

  He took a quick glance inside, then jumped down. Muffled cries rose in the air the second he landed.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay,” Jonas said quickly.

  Her heart in her throat, Emily rushed to the opening. The stench of blood and fear overwhelmed the wood-lined enclosure. As light penetrated the tiny room, she saw Jen, alive and cowering in the far corner. Her mouth had been taped shut and her hands tied.

  Emily scrambled down the ladder, and whi
le Jonas cut the cords, helped Jen remove the duct tape from her mouth.

  “He told me he wouldn’t kill me. That he’d be careful this time,” she said, fighting back tears. “I don’t know what he meant. He’s crazy. He told me that I belonged to him now.”

  Emily helped the woman stand while Jonas phoned for help. “Do you know where Grant went?” Emily asked her.

  “He said he had two more loose ends to tie up before he came back,” she said between sobs.

  “Did he say what they were?” Emily pressed, forcing her to concentrate.

  “Sam. He said Sam and I had betrayed him. And there was someone else with a strange name.”

  “Dinétsoh?” Emily asked.

  “Yeah, that was him.”

  As they helped Jen out of the barn and into the sun, they heard sirens coming closer.

  “Here come the deputies,” Emily said gently. “They’ve been searching for you. You’ll need to tell them your story.”

  “Don’t go!” she begged in a panicked voice.

  “You’re safe now,” Jonas said, “but there’s someone else who needs our attention.”

  “Should I call Preston?” Emily asked, reaching into her pocket for the notebook page.

  Jonas nodded. “Update him and stay with Ms. Caldwell while I move the pickup for the deputies and give them Sam’s laptop.” He whispered the last part so Jen wouldn’t hear.

  MOMENTS LATER EMILY and Jonas were under way. “We’re going after Grant?” she asked him.

  He nodded. “He’s the one who caused your father’s death and tried to track down Dinétsoh—the only witness to his crime. He also set the traps that would have put you out of the picture if you hadn’t been careful.”

  “But where do we look for him?”

  “If Grant goes out the main roads, north and west, he’ll get caught by my people or the deputies, and there are no roads leading east beyond the stable. What we need to do is cover the other possibility—him heading south in his truck. He probably thinks Jen is well hidden, so if he wants to avoid prison, he’ll go back to Sam’s cabin to clean up the evidence. Then he’ll make one last attempt to find Dinétsoh before somebody else does.”

  Jonas considered the new picture forming in his mind. “I think Grant saw the signs Dinétsoh left behind before we did, and didn’t erase them, hoping an experienced tracker like me would come along. Dinétsoh is a hard man to track, and Grant probably didn’t have the skills necessary.”

  “What if Dinétsoh’s passed on?” she managed to ask in a thin voice.

  “Even if he has, Grant will need to find the body and make sure there’s nothing left to incriminate him, like a dying man’s note.”

  “Then it stands to reason that Grant will head back to the mine, the only hiding place left he hasn’t checked out completely. Do you think Dinétsoh stayed in the cave? What we saw might have been a false trail. He could have gone into another tunnel inside that mine.”

  “It’s possible,” Jonas answered, wishing he could tell Emily about Fire Rock Hollow. But it had always been need-to-know only. Even he didn’t know its exact location. All he knew was that Dinétsoh had been replenishing supplies there, and if those had included medical items, there was still hope they’d find him alive.

  “What if the police are at Sam’s when we get there?” she asked as they raced down the road toward his cabin.

  “They haven’t had enough time. The cruiser we saw back there at Grant’s was the first on the scene. Their priority was the hostage, and manpower’s limited. That’s why we have to move fast. This will be our last shot at Grant. In a few hours, law enforcement will be all over the place, and the press won’t be far behind. If we don’t catch Woods now, he’ll go into hiding and it’ll take years to track him down again.”

  WHEN THEY REACHED THE cabin, no police were about, but they discovered Grant’s big tan pickup among the trees, hidden from view. No one was inside the vehicle, but they could see tracks leading toward the bluffs.

  Sam’s body lay on the ground where he’d fallen, but his pockets had been turned out. Grant had obviously searched him for any damning evidence.

  While Jonas grabbed Sam’s rifle, Emily went back to the pickup and retrieved the flashlight she’d seen in the glove compartment. They set out at a brisk pace, following Grant’s tracks. As they hurried along, Jonas made a quick cell call, speaking in Navajo.

  “Phoning for more backup?” Emily asked, struggling to keep up.

  Jonas nodded, calling her attention to the ground. “Grant’s moving fast. Notice the distance between his strides? He’s followed our old trail to the partially collapsed mine exit we used to escape.”

  “Do you think he’ll be hiding close by?” Emily whispered.

  “Yeah. I don’t think he knows exactly where to go next. My guess is that he was hoping we’d show up so he could ambush us and force us to lead him to Dinétsoh. Stay close to cover.”

  With danger near, she watched Jonas turn into the trained warrior he was—muscles tight, reflexes sharp. His work as a member of the Brotherhood gave him purpose and direction. He needed that as much as he needed air to breathe.

  In that way, they weren’t so different from each other. She wanted security, true enough, but she, too, needed challenges. They added an extra sweetness to life. That’s why she’d chosen to become an innkeeper, a job that varied every single day, and why she’d fallen in love with Jonas. Her heart had known her true needs long before she had.

  As she picked her way along the rocky slopes, she stumbled. Emily grabbed on to the side of a big boulder and steadied herself.

  “Are you okay?” Jonas asked, glancing back at her.

  “Yeah, but can we take a break for a moment?” she panted, trying to catch her breath.

  He nodded, slowly taking in their surroundings, searching for any sign of movement or a hiding place. It was midafternoon and the rocky bluffs, facing north, had recesses now in shadow.

  As Jonas studied the tracks, he saw that Grant had stopped beside the trail next to a distinctive flat-topped rock two feet tall. “Dirt’s been scattered over this rock. You can see where sand’s been scooped up from the ground and spread in a thin layer on top.”

  Jonas brushed it clear with his hand, and studied the marking beneath. “An X has been carved into the surface.”

  She drew closer and ran her fingers over it. “This isn’t an X. It’s the Roman numeral ten. I can feel the serifs at the ends, those little lines that finish the letter.” She drew in a breath. “This is it!”

  “What?”

  “Remember my father’s note? The starting point of the map was Law Rock. My father told me once that the ten commandments were the blueprint for civilized society. He said that Moses’s tablet was the bedrock—the foundation for all modern laws.”

  “Law Rock,” Jonas repeated with a nod. “Grant obviously thought it meant something, so he tried to cover it up.”

  Emily reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out the note her father had left. “I’ve kept this with me, hoping to make sense of it eventually,” she said, handing it to him.

  “‘Two hundred forty degrees, three hundred yards, one hundred sixty degrees, fifty yards, and twenty up,’” he read, then took out his GPS, switched it to compass mode and placed it on the X. “Two hundred and forty degrees is west-southwest. I think this is going to take us either directly to the mine or very close to it.”

  “Let’s follow Dad’s directions. If we get any indication that Grant is here with us, we can switch our course.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” Jonas said, flashing her a grin. “We go southwest, farther back along the bluffs. And stay sharp. Landmarks don’t move, but bad guys do.”

  “Give me the compass, and I’ll step it off,” she volunteered. “You can keep watch better than I can.”

  The direction of travel took them toward the bluffs, but after passing a small canyon, they ended up facing a sheer wall of stone.

&
nbsp; “Where to next?” he asked.

  “One hundred sixty degrees south-southeast. The heading seems to lead to that narrow draw we just walked past.” She paced it off, and the route took them into a ten-foot-wide gap between the opposing walls of the cliff.

  Turning in a half circle, Jonas spotted a faint trail of black rocks scattered down a steep slope of loose rubble, then a dark opening at the top into the side of the cliff. The narrow canyon itself, in the shape of an upside-down U, continued on around to the west.

  They’d started to climb, moving slowly, when suddenly a shot rang out from somewhere just outside the cliffs. Jonas yanked Emily flat, and together they slid down the slope on their stomachs. His body blocked hers from direct fire as bullets whined up the draw and ricocheted off the hard surfaces.

  They jumped behind a big rock and Jonas brought Sam’s rifle to his shoulder. It was only a .22, but it outranged his Beretta and could take out a man with a well-placed hit.

  “Woods!” Jonas called, looking down the sights for a shot. “It’s over. Deputies are closing in from the north, and they’ll find our location from my GPS. Give it up. The Caldwell woman is still alive. There’s no reason for anyone else to die today.”

  When two more shots rang out in response, he pinpointed Grant’s location.

  “I know where he is and I’m going after him,” Jonas told Emily. “But I’m going to need you to cover me.” He handed her the rifle. “No recoil, and you’ve got ten rounds. All you have to do is line up the front and rear sights and pull the trigger. Shell casings will eject out the side, but don’t let that distract you.”

  “I’ve fired a .22 rifle before. Are you going to sneak around the back way?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m going to outflank him. He’s between those two big rocks. The one on the left has a bump on the top—see it?”

  She nodded.

  “Just make him keep his head down, like you did before with the pistol.”