by Gerri Hill
Jaime showed mock surprise and shot a handful of water Sandra’s direction. They finally settled down and Jaime relaxed on a rock, stretching her arms out at her sides and closing her eyes. The professional side of her knew they shouldn’t be out here playing. It was just courting danger. But she couldn’t think of how to explain to everyone what was going on without causing panic. Tomorrow, though, they would need to be careful. If they were a smaller group, she would consider bushwhacking it across the mountain and forgoing the trails. But not with this group of twelve. They would never make it. No, tomorrow, she would most likely tell them all about the possible danger. They could decide then what to do. Unfortunately, they were a seven-day hike from where they started. Their best bet was the Cottonwood Pass Highway, although this time of year, traffic would be sparse. But surely, they could catch a ride down the mountain, if need be. The other alternative was the St. Elmo ghost town. There was a general store that operated during the summer months. Perhaps someone might still be about this early in September. And if they climbed higher, she might get service on her cell. That is, if the battery was still charged. Of course, if she wasn’t just a lowly detective, if she was a real FBI agent, they’d have supplied her with a satellite phone or something. But no, just bogus threats, just a vacation.
Right.
“You’re frowning,” Sara said.
Jaime opened her eyes, finding Sara close by. “Was I?” Jaime looked away. “Just thinking.”
“You’re worried, aren’t you?”
“You should be too.”
“This is what? Day seven? Surely there’s been ample opportunity,” she said quietly.
“Maybe.” Jaime turned back, meeting the blue-green eyes that were nothing but confident. “But we can’t take a chance.”
“I don’t want to tell them.”
“I think we have to.”
“What good will it do?”
“Maybe nothing. But they have a right to know.”
Sara flicked her eyes over the women, then back to Jaime. “It’ll just scare them.”
Jaime looked over at the women, seeing the contented smile on Celia’s face, the relaxed look that Sandra sported. Yes, it would scare them. It would ruin the trip, that’s for sure. But still, if someone ended up shooting at them . . .
“Let’s just play it by ear, okay?” Sara suggested.
Jaime shrugged. No, she didn’t want to play it by ear. They needed a plan. They just couldn’t be sitting ducks. But now was not the time to discuss it.
“We’ll talk about it tonight.”
Chapter Fifteen
The small fire glowed hotly and he hovered close by, trying to warm himself. They were all doing the same, he was sure. All the little women ignorant to his presence. It’ll be like ducks on a pond. He tossed his cigarette down into the fire, watching as the flames swallowed it.
Tomorrow. Dodds said to do it tomorrow. Good thing. Because he was tired of the mountains . . . and the cold. And it would be at least seven days before anyone missed them.
Chapter Sixteen
Jaime was nervous and she couldn’t seem to shake it. She kept looking over her shoulder, wondering if he was watching them. It would be so easy. He could simply walk down the mountain and they wouldn’t hear a thing. She looked at Sara who was sitting on a rock near the fire, hands outstretched to warm them. She didn’t appear the least bit anxious and Jaime wondered if Sara even believed she was in danger.
“Are we going to make that ghost town?” Abby asked. “You never did tell us the story.”
Jaime smiled. “Well, now that you mention it, Sara and I were talking about that just today.” She glanced quickly at Sara, then back at Abby. “St. Elmo is about three and a half days from here. I was thinking, if we left early in the morning, like at daybreak, we could make Cottonwood Pass day after tomorrow.”
“Daybreak?”
“Yeah. That would mean getting up before dawn and packing. What do you say?”
“What’s at Cottonwood Pass?”
Jaime tossed a small pinecone into the fire, watching the embers dance before it was consumed by the hot flames. “Well, there’s an overlook at the top. But I’m sure you’d be much more interested in the toilets.”
“Real bathrooms?” Lou Ann asked.
“Well, not flush toilets, but you’d at least be able to sit down.”
They laughed, then Celia poked her with a stick. “Tell us about the ghost.”
“Ah, the ghost,” Jaime said quietly. She looked around the fire at eleven faces staring at her. She smiled. “It scared the shit out of me, that’s for sure.”
“Tell us.”
“Well, if you can’t sleep tonight, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Abby said.
Jaime picked up a rock and tossed it between her hands. “I didn’t either. But I saw one.” She leaned forward. “I was alone. I wanted to make St. Elmo by nightfall and I should have stopped earlier. But, as the sun was setting, I thought I was only fifteen, twenty minutes away so I pushed on. But full dark caught me and I still hadn’t reached the old town.” She bent down and picked up her water bottle, taking a sip. “All of a sudden, clouds moved in and covered the moon, the wind started blowing and I couldn’t see a thing.”
“How long ago was this?” Celia asked quietly.
“Three years.” Jaime looked across the fire at Sara who met her eyes for a moment before looking away. “Anyway, I pulled out a little flashlight like this,” she said, showing them the one she kept in her back pocket. “But still, I could only see a few feet in front of me. I turned around in circles, trying to find the trail but it was like it had just disappeared. I was standing among spruce trees on a bed of needles, no sign of a trail.” She shrugged. “I thought, hell, might as well just pitch a tent right here. So I did. And I brought out my little stove and heated water and I sat there in the dark, listening to the wind,” she said quietly.
“What happened?” Judith finally asked.
“I heard . . . I heard this banging, like a pickax on rock. Over and over.” She looked up. “Do you know what a pickax is?”
“Miners used to use them,” Sandra said.
“Yeah. Gold miners. So, I hear this noise and I think that surely there are other hikers close by—doing God knows what. I couldn’t figure out why someone would be pounding at the rocks after dark. But then it stopped. And the wind stopped too. Just like someone had flipped a switch. But still, I didn’t think anything about it really. I sat in front of my tent in the dark and ate my dinner. Then, through the trees, I saw this light glowing. And it was moving. At first, I thought someone was walking with a flashlight, but it had an orangey glow to it. It was a lantern. And it was coming closer,” she nearly whispered.
“What did you do?” someone asked quietly.
“I thought it was a hiker, nothing more. I waited, thinking maybe he’d seen me earlier and was coming to visit or maybe he was in trouble. So, I just sat and waited. Then it stopped. It was like someone set the lantern on the ground. The wind started blowing again and all of a sudden . . . the pickax again. Over and over, pounding on the rocks. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I got my little flashlight and walked toward the light.” She paused, watching their faces. “He materialized right before my eyes. A miner. Ghostly white,” she whispered. “And he saw me. The pickax was held over his head in mid-swing and he looked at me.”
“Oh my God.”
“I was shaking so badly, I dropped my flashlight. I just stared.”
“What happened?”
“It’s my gold,” she whispered. “That’s what he said. It’s my gold. Then he swung the pickax down again and again.”
“What did you do?” Celia asked.
“I ran. Back to my tent, nearly diving inside, as if that little tent could save me,” she said with a laugh. “I didn’t sleep a wink. All night long, the pickax worked the rocks and I could see the light moving outside my tent
. Finally, thankfully . . . dawn. I went outside the tent and there, beside my little stove, was my flashlight.”
“But you dropped it,” Abby reminded her.
“Yeah, I did. And I ran without picking it up.”
“You mean—?”
“Someone or something brought my flashlight back to me.”
“Oh my God,” Celia murmured.
Jaime smiled. “My one and only ghost and he turned out to be a nice guy.”
Sara, like all the others, had hung on every word. Again, she wondered if the story was true or if Jaime just made it up on the spot. For some reason, as she watched Jaime’s face, she thought it was true. And she, like all the others, moved just a little bit closer to the fire.
“Were you scared?” Judith asked quietly.
Jaime laughed. “I’m surprised I didn’t pass out. Yes, I was scared.”
Abby leaned forward. “And you’re convinced it was a ghost?”
Jaime nodded. “I know it was. I wasn’t hallucinating.”
“I remember a story about Cripple Creek,” Sara said. “You know, when they turned the old mining town into casinos, they just remodeled the original buildings. They have several accounts of security cameras capturing apparitions at the slot machines after closing.”
“I’d heard that,” Celia said. “I thought it was just a hoax.”
“No, it’s true,” Jaime said. “I know someone who worked there once. They would shut the casinos down at two in the morning and open again at eight. But the security cameras ran all night. She said once, when they were watching the tapes, the slot machines started working, as if someone was feeding them coins. And one time, there was this vision of a lady, walking down the stairs and going to play at one of the machines.”
“That’s creepy.”
“Yeah, it is,” Jaime said. “But, it makes you think.”
“Well, yeah, it makes you think,” Abby said. “And how the hell are we supposed to sleep tonight?”
Jaime laughed. “I tried to warn you. Ghost stories around a campfire in the middle of nowhere are usually not a good idea.”
“Now she tells us,” Sandra said.
“Oh, you’ll all sleep like babies,” Jaime said. “At least you have a partner to sleep with. Sara and I are all alone.”
Celia grinned. “Well, maybe you two should partner up then.”
Jaime nodded. “I like the way you think. That’s a great idea.”
Sara shook her head. “I’ll yell if I need you.”
Across the fire, their eyes held. “And what if I need you?”
Sara grinned. “Yell. I’m sure one of these women will come to your rescue.”
But later, as she lay wide awake in her sleeping bag, Sara wasn’t sure if it was the ghost story that kept her awake or Jaime’s insistence that someone was following them. And she knew she would feel much safer if Jaime was indeed in the tent with her.
“Ridiculous,” she whispered and she purposefully rolled over, punching the tiny pillow that she carried in her backpack.
Jaime lay still, listening. Not for the sound of a pickax, but for the sound of footsteps. And she wouldn’t get a moment’s sleep knowing that Sara’s tent was the farthest one away from hers. He could come during the night, no one would hear. And in the morning, they would find her.
“Oh, shit,” she whispered. She finally tossed open her sleeping bag and sat up. “She’ll kill me.”
But it didn’t matter. She couldn’t take a chance. With her sleeping bag in one hand and her gun in the other, she walked silently among the tents, pausing outside Sara’s zippered door.
Sara sat up at the sound of footsteps. Could be anyone. Maybe someone had to pee. But they stopped right outside her tent. Her heart pounded and she very nearly yelled out for Jaime.
“Sara? It’s me.”
Sara let out a relieved sigh, moving to unzip the door. “What?”
“I’m bunking with you tonight,” Jaime said.
“The hell you are,” Sara whispered as loud as she dared.
Jaime ignored her and shoved into the small tent, bumping Sara with her sleeping bag as she stepped over her.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Perhaps. Move over. I’ll take the door.”
“You cannot sleep in here,” Sara insisted.
“Why not? You’re wide awake because you’re afraid, and I’m wide awake because I’m way the hell back there and I’m worried about what might happen to you,” Jaime reasoned.
“I am not afraid.”
“Then why are you still awake?”
Sara moved her sleeping bag to give Jaime room. “Maybe your damn ghost story is running through my mind.”
Jaime grinned. “I made that story up, so try again,” Jaime said as she spread out her sleeping bag next to Sara’s. She settled down, tucking her gun under her side.
“You have a gun?”
“Of course I have a gun.”
“I don’t feel comfortable sleeping with a gun.”
“You’re not sleeping with a gun. I am.”
Sara lay down and jerked the sleeping bag over her. Obnoxious woman. God, she was actually sharing her tent with her. She shifted, moving as far away as possible.
“I don’t bite,” Jaime whispered. “Get some sleep. We need to head out early.”
Sara took a deep breath. “Are you planning on telling them?”
“I don’t know. Like you said, let’s play it by ear.”
Sara closed her eyes, hating the fact that she felt comforted by Jaime’s presence. But she did. She had no doubt that if the other woman was not there, she would get precious little sleep. She also hated the fact that she was cold. She turned her head, noting the few feet that separated them. Jaime appeared to already be asleep and Sara chanced inching closer.
“Cold?” Jaime murmured.
“A little.” Damn!
Jaime rolled over and unzipped her bag then tried to do the same to Sara’s.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You’re cold. I’m cold,” Jaime said as she lay back down, now so close they were touching. “Roll over.”
“What?”
Jaime sighed. “Just roll over. Geez.”
Sara did, facing away from Jaime. Then she jerked as she felt Jaime move behind her, pressing her warm body to her own. One arm snaked around her and pulled her close and she trembled. She could feel Jaime’s breasts against her back and she closed her eyes. She should protest, she knew she should. Sleeping this way was far too intimate but she didn’t have the willpower to pull out of the embrace. It felt too good. Sara sighed, relaxing as she felt Jaime’s warm breath on her neck. She felt safe.
By dawn, they were completely entangled and she was horrified to find that she’d brought Jaime’s hand to her breast. Her own hand still covered Jaime’s. Oh my God. Are you insane?
A new warmth settled over her as she frantically thought of ways to remove the offending hand without waking Jaime. She would die of embarrassment if Jaime woke up. And no doubt the other woman would try to turn it into something it wasn’t. For her part, it was a totally innocent gesture made without conscious thought while she slept. Suddenly the warm hand covering her breast squeezed and she stifled a moan as she felt her heart jump in her chest, but Jaime’s even breathing told Sara that she was still fast asleep.
Finally, she took a deep breath, intending to just roll over and pretend nothing was wrong when she felt Jaime stir. The hand tightened once again then stilled. She could hear Jaime’s sharp intake of breath and she was certain that Jaime could feel the pounding of her heart against her hand. She jerked her hand away and Jaime sat up.
“I’m so sorry. Really I am. I . . . I had no . . . no idea,” she stammered.
Sara rolled over, her eyes meeting Jaime’s in the dim light of the tent. In that split second, Sara made a choice. She could pretend outrage and bar Jaime from her tent for the duration or she could accept responsibil
ity because she knew by the way she’d been gripping Jaime’s hand that she’d pulled it to her. Or . . .
“What the hell are you talking about?” she murmured.
Jaime blinked several times then swallowed nervously. “I . . . well . . . I think I may have . . .”
“Are you always this incoherent in the morning?”
Jaime rubbed her face with both hands, shaking her head. “No. Not normally.” She stared at Sara, looking for some sign of anger but saw none. Apparently, she’d pulled her hand away before Sara woke. She could only imagine the scene had she been caught. Jesus! What were you thinking?
“What time is it, anyway?”
Jaime looked at her watch. “Five thirty. I wanted to be on the trail before daylight but I don’t guess we’re going to make it.” She cleared her throat. “How did you sleep?”
“Good. Warm.” Sara felt herself blushing. “I guess I should thank you.”
“Yeah, you should. Beats freezing to death.” Jaime grabbed the edge of Sara’s sleeping bag and pulled it off her. “Rise and shine.”
She escaped out the tent before Sara could throw a boot at her. Her smile faded as she stared toward the mountain. As darkness still hovered over the canyon, she could make out a campfire through the trees. She stuck her head back inside. “Get dressed. Hurry. He’s already up.”
“What?”
“I can see a fire. Hurry. I’ll get the others up.”
Chapter Seventeen
He sat close to the fire, warming his hands. Yes, he’d had enough of the cold. They weren’t paying him enough for this shit. He would do it today. If he couldn’t get a clean shot at Michaels, he’d pick them off one by one if necessary. And he’d start with the old cow that normally lagged behind.
He laughed quietly. Yeah. He could do them one by one. That’d be fun.
Chapter Eighteen
The sun was breaking over the mountain when they climbed the next ridge. Sara intended to keep on but Jaime stopped.