by Jane Godman
“We should probably do something about facing the day ahead. Something that doesn’t involve deciding to spend it in bed.” Laurie’s voice was regretful as she leaned up on one elbow and looked down at him.
“Don’t tempt me.” He lifted his arm and peeked at her from beneath it. She looked breathtakingly beautiful with her mussed-up dark hair falling forward to frame her face. “There’s one thing I don’t get. Do you think Grant kills them when they resist him, or because he wants to rescue them from the awfulness of their lives?”
A shadow flitted across her face, and he regretted asking the question. Wished he didn’t have to bring Grant Becker’s name up and spoil the perfection of this brief time they had together. “Who knows what goes on in his mind? That will be something for other people to unpick once he’s arrested.”
Sliding from the bed, she moved toward the bedroom door. Cameron watched her go, feasting his eyes on her rear view. The smooth perfection of her sculpted back, the slender waist flaring out to neat hips, those long, long legs...
She turned and grinned mischievously over her shoulder. “I know exactly what you’re thinking, Mayor Delaney, but we just don’t have time.”
He threw back the sheets, moving purposefully toward her. Laurie’s eyes widened as she took in the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. “We do if we shower together, Detective Bryan.”
* * *
Laurie’s senses were on even higher alert as they drove past the turnoff for Stillwater. Not only did Grant know what they were driving, but he would be more determined than ever to hunt them down and finish this. At least Cameron’s arm, when she had changed the dressings, seemed to be healing well. The stitches looked secure, and there was no sign of any infection.
They were traveling along a narrow road with tall aspens rising high on each side, their gleaming white trunks flashing past like a continuous optical illusion. It was still early, and a faint golden mist lingered low on the ground. There was nothing out here. Nothing to disturb the tranquil, untamed beauty of this scenery.
“Nothing except deer, elk, some bear, maybe the odd moose and even an occasional grizzly,” Cameron said.
“I may have fallen in love with Wyoming, but I’m not sure I’d want to get quite this far away from it all.” Laurie was conscious of his eyes on her face and wondered what she’d said to cause such an intense stare.
Since they had reached the remote property that belonged to Mrs. Martin, she had no opportunity to find out. As she descended from the vehicle, Laurie reflected on the sort of mentality and staying power it must take to live in a place like this. And to live here alone? Miles from the power grid and the nearest convenience store? Day after day, month after lonely month. On a sunny morning like this, it didn’t seem too bad, but what about in winter?
The woman who appeared on the porch of the small, cedar cabin looked as formidable as the landscape around her. Her hair was as white as the snow on the tips of the mountains and her face had the same granite hardness as the crags of Devil’s Peak. She could have been any age between sixty and eighty, but her body had the lean, hard edge of someone much younger.
Mrs. Martin waited with her arms folded across her chest as they approached. She nodded in Laurie’s direction, then turned her attention to Cameron.
“Mayor Delaney.” There was no inflection in the words.
“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Martin. Chief Wilkinson tells me you’ve been troubled by some strange goings-on at the Hope Valley mine.”
Her snort was a perfect indicator of her opinion of Chief Wilkinson. With one small sound she conveyed contempt, dismissal and exasperation. “You’d better come through.”
They followed her into the tiny cabin and out onto the back porch. Laurie had never felt so insignificant. Beyond the huge trees she could see the tops of the towering mountains. The sky was a tiny strip of blue above them.
Mrs. Martin pointed in a straight line from where they were standing. “The mine is just beyond the trees. The crater is grassed over now, but there are no trees or shrubs growing there yet. I have to go down that way to collect water. That’s how come I noticed it.”
“What did you notice exactly?”
Mrs. Martin’s eyes flickered over Laurie in response to her question. “Someone down there at night.”
“Was it one person, or several people?”
Mrs. Martin gave it some thought. “Judging by the torchlight, I’d say one.” She nodded decisively. “Yes, just one.”
“Chief Wilkinson said there were strange noises,” Cameron said.
Mrs. Martin snorted again. “Tell the chief to read his letters properly. Those noises were strange all right, but only because no one comes out this way at night. Not because I’m some crank who thinks there’s a UFO out in the mine crater. I think I would be able to tell the difference between the sounds of a spaceship and a regular car engine.”
“So the noises were the sounds of a vehicle being driven out this way at night?”
Mrs. Martin nodded. “And onto the mine crater itself. Why would anyone do that? Even those people who come down here with ropes, lamps and helmets to explore the old mineshaft do it in daylight.”
She was right, of course. Laurie caught Cameron’s eye and saw he was thinking the same thing. There was no legitimate reason for anyone to come out to a remote, abandoned mine at night.
“How often does this happen?” Cameron asked.
“Now and then. There may be a burst of activity and then nothing for quite some time.”
Laurie shivered as she looked out at the raw, elemental beauty of the surrounding area. Vincente’s words came back to her. You mean he could have been going there as some sort of celebration? The image of Grant coming to this untamed place to rejoice over his deeds horrified her almost as much as the murders themselves. She could almost see his face uplifted in pride to the highest point of the mountain range, the aptly named Devil’s Peak. She thought of those faces on her laptop screen. Bright, smiling women with hopes and dreams and loved ones. They had woken up one morning with plans and promises, not knowing an encounter with a killer was looming.
She thought of Carla. Stubborn, beautiful Carla, who should have listened to Cameron and gone with him that night. Of Marie, who gratefully accepted a lift from a man she thought of as a friend. Of sad Deanna, wild Tanya, unhappy Kathy and tortured Lisa. And there may have been others. She reminded herself that her tentative search had found other missing women from outside Stillwater. They deserved better than this. Lying in an old mine, the broken trophies of a twisted murderer. Their families deserved better than this. They needed to know the truth.
Laurie felt a single cold tear track its way down her cheek. Determinedly, she brushed it away before her companions could see it.
“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Martin.” Despite her efforts to hide it, Laurie had a feeling Cameron could sense her distress.
The old woman nodded. “If there is something bad going on out there, I want it stopped.”
When they got back into the car, Cameron turned to face Laurie. “This is your call. Do you want to keep going along this road and see if there is anything at all to link Grant and the murders to the mine? Or do we turn around, drive into Stillwater and lay everything we know before Chief Wilkinson?”
She wanted to rest her head on his chest and feel his strong arms around her. She knew why he was offering her these options. He could see how profoundly this lonely place had affected her, and he was trying once again to protect her from the awful reality of it all. But she didn’t have a choice.
“Everything we know is nothing at all in the eyes of the law, Cameron. We don’t have anything to link Grant to any of these murders.” She managed a shaky laugh. “We still don’t have proof any murders have taken place. We could buy ourselves some breathing space from Grant b
y going to the chief, but he would catch up with us eventually.”
He started up the car. “So we keep going?”
She nodded. “We keep going.”
* * *
In spite of his father’s threats, Cameron had risked coming out to the mine once or twice when he was younger. As a daredevil kid, it wasn’t so much the fear of his father’s reaction that had kept him away. It was more this place itself. It was bleak and depressing, and the work done on it several years ago to make it safe hadn’t changed that underlying feeling. “Abandoned” described it in more ways than one. Birds didn’t sing here. Even though nature had begun to reclaim the scarred landscape, animals didn’t come to forage inside the crater the mining activity had left behind. There was an acrid, dusty smell of disuse hanging low in the air that made Laurie wrinkle her nose and lift her face in search of the cleaner, fresher breeze higher up. Even as a kid, Cameron had never been able to understand why Grant found it so enticing here. If you wanted danger in Stillwater, there were plenty of prettier ways to find it. He had always preferred to dive into the icy lake waters or scale the sheer peaks of the high points on the trail.
They left the SUV at the edge of the crater and made their way down the slope into the roughly circular basin. Although scrubby grass had grown over the area, the striations were still clear, the different levels of excavation showing through. The silence was eerie, and Cameron thought of the barroom stories of long ago that were still told about this place. Even though it was a small mine, it had once been thriving, with a prosperous workforce. When it dwindled and eventually closed, some of the lifeblood had drained out of Stillwater.
“There was originally an underground mine on this site.” Cameron pointed to the shaft entrance at the opposite side of the crater. “It was closed after a series of accidents when too many men lost their lives, but there was still a lucrative coal bed here, and a surface mine was opened instead. Gradually, production wound down and it closed completely about forty years ago. Before the work was done to make it safe, there was still old, broken machinery lying around. You could kill yourself on rusted metal just walking around here,” Cameron said.
They moved around the edge of the crater, keeping close together, unsure of what they were seeking until they found it. Without discussing it, they scoured the ground for indications anything might have been buried, any suggestion that something was out of place. Although the landscape was uneven, there was no sign that anything had disturbed the surface of the grass. Cameron’s eyes were constantly drawn back toward the top of the crater itself, as if at any moment he expected to see a familiar, muscle-bound figure appear on its rim. Since he wasn’t given to imaginative flights of fancy, he decided it was proof of the strength of the grip Grant had them in. It was a grip Cameron intended to break.
Grimacing, he flexed his injured left arm. It felt better than he had expected, but it was stiff and aching. He hoped he wouldn’t have to get into a fight with Grant. The other man was built like a bear and fought like a tiger. Even as a kid he’d been possessed of a phenomenal strength. Cameron remembered one-sided wrestling matches with a grimace. Both men were members of the same gym in town, but while Cameron used it as a means of staying fit, Grant subjected his body to a schedule that would make a professional athlete’s eyes water. Even without his injury, Cameron knew he was at a disadvantage. He comforted himself with the thought that Laurie had her gun tucked into the inner pocket of her jacket, and the determined look in her eye left him no doubt she would use it if she needed to.
Her courage astounded him, along with her compassion. He understood the look he had glimpsed in her eyes back at Mrs. Martin’s place. Even with her own life in peril, Laurie had taken time out to spare a thought for the women who had died, to hate that this could be their final resting place. Just when he thought he couldn’t love her any more, she blew him away with her grace and strength. He had never experienced passion like that which surged through him at her touch, had never known peace like he felt in her arms. He had to get this right, not because he was under some white knight or crusader delusion. This was about making sure the woman he loved was okay.
They reached the main shaft at one end of the crater. When Cameron was a kid, his overactive imagination used to try to tell him that square black hole was the doorway into hell itself. Now? As they approached, it didn’t look any more appealing. The original timber beams were in place supporting the cave-like entrance to the shaft. Each one carefully sawn off and hammered into place, their workmanship standing the test of time. At one side an old, rusted railway cart stood, leaning gently to one side. It looked lost without any tracks to run on, but it was many years since the railway line had extended this far out of town.
“Did they forget to take this away when they cleared the debris from this piece of land?” Laurie asked.
“A few years ago, there was some talk about opening a mining museum out here in Hope Valley. A local history group petitioned the council because this was one of the first underground mines in the state, but they didn’t have the funds or the public interest to do anything about it. I guess this was a relic that got left behind.”
They were a few feet from the mine entrance now, and Laurie’s hand stole into his. “Do you think...?”
He followed her gaze into the inky mouth of the shaft, following her thoughts. Could this be where the missing women had ended up? “I don’t know.”
It was the truth. Would anyone choose this place to dispose of a body, let alone more than one? It was certainly remote, but, as a hiding place, was it practical? Mine explorers, those hardy souls who found enjoyment delving into abandoned industrial sites, occasionally came out here to seek adventure. It had presented the town council with a dilemma. They couldn’t say for sure the mine wasn’t dangerous, because, once inside, there were so many interconnecting tunnels, each with its own set of hazards. At the same time, they couldn’t say for sure it was dangerous. Eventually, they had compromised, issuing a statement advising mine explorers to stay away and disclaiming responsibility if anyone chose to ignore that recommendation. Once inside, Grant would have solitude in which to hide the bodies, but he would have to know his way around the tunnels to be sure of getting in and out safely.
“We can go in a few feet.” Cameron pulled the small flashlight he’d brought from the cabin out of his pocket. “But it’s not safe to venture too far inside.”
Laurie’s face told him she wasn’t keen on the idea of going in at all, but her fingers tightened on his and she stepped into the darkness at his side. Once they had taken a few steps, the flashlight beam became insignificant against the utter blackness. The tunnel smelled of darkness. Of rotten earth and burrowing creatures and dusty rock. Underfoot, loose stones slithered and crunched, making the path ahead of them tricky. It couldn’t possibly have become as cold as he imagined it was after just a few short feet from the entrance.
“He’s not going to be stupid enough to leave any clues right here as we walk in.” Laurie’s dispirited voice echoed in the gloom. “And it comes back to the old problem. No one will search this place just because we have a hunch he may have killed these women and brought their bodies here.”
They walked on a few more feet. The smell had changed, become unpleasant. Not that it had been pleasant before. Now it made his stomach clench. It was a sweet, rotten odor, making him think of unwashed toilets and rotten meat.
Cameron directed the flashlight along the ground ahead of them, halting when its beam illuminated a familiar object. “No, but I think it’s fairly safe to say our hunch was right.”
Lying on the ground to their right, faded because the colors were distorted by the unnatural light and also because it was no longer fresh—the supplier had, after all, met with an untimely death a few days ago—was a heart-shaped arrangement of roses.
Chapter 15
Laurie’s b
reath seemed to be trapped somewhere between her chest and her mouth, so no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t release the inhalation she’d just taken. Bursting out of the mineshaft at a run, she doubled over and the air finally left her lungs with a whoosh. When she straightened, the sunlight seemed too bright, and she blinked hard at Cameron, who was just behind her.
“Okay?” His face was concerned. Clearly, he thought she might be about to faint. And he could be right.
Laurie nodded, leaning back against the side of the rusted railway cart for support, her head tilted back against it. “It was seeing the flowers there, you know? Suspecting is one thing, but knowing is another.” She looked out at the desolate expanse of land. “He sent them flowers when they were alive. Why would he leave them here when they were dead?”
Cameron came to lean next to her, his broad shoulder pressed against hers. She knew the touch was deliberate. He was using his body to give her strength and support. “Who knows? Maybe he still feels responsible for them? Or it’s his twisted way of showing respect. I don’t want to probe his mind any further than I have to. All I do know is that this means you were right all along, and now we do have to take all of this to Chief Wilkinson.”
Laurie turned her head to the side to look at him, grounding herself by drinking in the details of his face. Even though she knew his features so well, he still took her breath away. His high, carved cheekbones and aristocratic nose could have made his face harsh, but, in contrast, his lips were full. Those incredible, deep-set dark eyes enchanted her. It was a strong face, an unforgettable face. Then something about it changed. As she gazed up at him, he lurched and an unexpected expression of surprise crossed his face before the light in his eyes dulled and Cameron pitched forward onto the ground.
Laurie stared at him in shock, taking in the blood that was welling rapidly at the back of his head. Something had hit him from behind and hit him hard. Looking up to find the source of what had caused his sudden fall, her eyes encountered the triumphant, light blue gaze of Grant Becker. He was standing inside the old railway cart, holding in his hand the bloodstained rock he had just used to bash Cameron over the back of the head.