Reluctant Runaway

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  Little ants crawled across her scalp. A photograph from the Inner Witness office popped up in her memory. Reverend Romlin and Ham Gordon shaking hands over a ground-breaking ceremony, a picture that was now missing, along with everything else in the abandoned office.

  “Tony?” Her voice quivered.

  He joined her. “You found it?”

  “Not your landscape. The location of Sanctuary.” She pointed. “All we have to do is research where this painting was done.” She explained about the ground-breaking photograph.

  Tony frowned. “The photo could have been taken at the location of Gordon’s new home.”

  “He’d never be allowed property within view of an ancient dwelling site. Georgia, on the other hand, didn’t find her inspiration along the beaten path. This place might not even be on any map, but the directions to it could be in historical archives on the artist.”

  “Okay, we’ll follow up.”

  He believed her. She’d almost stopped believing herself.

  He snapped his fingers. “How about we buzz back to Albuquerque. We can get a researcher on it. One of our people that specializes in that sort of thing will get results faster than either of us. Besides, the wait will give us a chance to go out for dinner. Someplace nice.”

  Desi looked down at her clothes. “Not too nice. This is all I have to wear.”

  He laughed and brushed fingertips down her cheek. Desi looked away. The man was getting to her without half trying. Where’s your backbone, Des?

  “We can fix the wardrobe tomorrow” He spread his arms. “I offer myself a willing sacrifice on the shopping altar.”

  Just call me jellyfish. “I’ll hold you to that.” She tottered away, smiling.

  Outside the building, she turned and gripped the open edges of his jacket. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if Sanctuary was found … with a live-and-well Karen? Jo and Brent think she was still okay a couple of days ago when Jo’s car went missing.”

  Tony frowned and looked at his watch. “Guess I can tell you now. Ortiz should have had enough time to inform Mrs. Cheama.” He breathed deep and let the air out. “Karen didn’t take her mother’s car. Tank confessed to the theft, as well as running Pete Cheama off the road.”

  “But where did he get the keys to Jo’s car? And what about the blood drops?”

  “He hot-wired it. Said Mayburn told him to grab the vehicle in order to stir up the hunt for Karen, take eyes off their operation. He doesn’t know where she is, or even if Mayburn had anything to do with her disappearance. The blood at Jo’s is Tanks. He cut himself jimmying the car door open. We still don’t know who left blood evidence at the museum.”

  One step forward, two steps back. Aaak! Desi whirled and marched toward the motorcycle.

  Tony’s hand on her shoulder stopped her, and his dark gaze searched her face. “You mad at me for not telling you sooner.”

  Her hand covered his. “No, hon. Jo deserved to know first. It’s not confidential things about your job that bug me. It’s … well, let’s not ride that old mule again. Okay? Our steed awaits.” She spread her hands toward the gleaming Harley.

  “Let me call in first. Get someone started on the hunt for your mystery location.”

  Tony finished a brief conversation and folded his phone away, but didn’t put on his helmet. “I want to tell you something that I’ve never discussed with anyone except my mother. Ever.”

  “I’m listening.” Desi went still on the inside.

  “You were right about that Capone thing bugging me. Not because I’m ashamed. Because I’m angry about what that man’s choice did to my family line. What it’s still doing. My great-grandfather wasn’t an ordinary kneecap breaker. He spearheaded the infamous St. Valentine’s Day massacre. He and several other wise guys riddled a group of unarmed men from a rival mob with over 150 bullets. Great-granddad enjoyed his job.”

  Desi shivered.

  Tony frowned. “Remember what I said about a single choice impacting generations? Maybe unleashing spiritual forces?”

  She nodded.

  “I have shirttail cousins still in the mob. They can’t see any other way to live.”

  Desi shook her head. “Now I don’t have to feel bad about being related to Ham Gordon.”

  He flashed a smile then sobered again. “My grandfather walked away from the lifestyle when he was barely past puberty The mob relatives cast him off like he was a traitor to some sacred cause. But he made a life in a little town in Iowa and became a pharmacist.”

  “Good for him! That must be where you get your determination and integrity from.”

  “Not everything worked out great. There’s another branch of the Lucanos that has always been honest. Stick straight. They didn’t welcome granddad back onto the narrow path. Wouldn’t have anything to do with him or his children. As large as our family is, my mom and me—and my dad when he was alive—have never been welcome among them.” He looked away from her, lips compressed. “It’s like we’re tainted forever in their eyes.”

  “Oh, Tony.” She put her arms around him. “That’s got to hurt.”

  He pulled her close. “My mom’s been praying up a storm and holding out olive branches. We’re starting to see a thaw, but … ” He shook his head.

  “But what?” She looked up at him.

  “I’m not sure I want to know the people who thought they were too good for us. My dad might be alive today if he hadn’t felt driven to prove something. He specialized in going after mobsters, and a Chinese mafioso killed him. Almost killed me, too. Seems like the mob—or the spiritual forces behind organized crime—meant to get us one way or another.” He met her gaze. “Does that sound out in left field?”

  “Not a bit. When evils sinks its teeth into people, it doesn’t like to let go. We’d never break away without God on our side. This Romlin character prattles about the body and blood, but there’s nothing in it unless it has the power to move us from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of light.”

  Tony nodded. “I know that’s why I’m still here, but I think family attitudes play a key role one way or another. The clean-living Lucanos left us out in the cold when they should have rallied around us. Should I forget that and play old-home week with the self-righteous bunch?”

  Desi touched his cheek. “But staying aloof from your relatives will perpetuate the problem into another generation.”

  “Knowing that doesn’t change how I feel.”

  “I hear you.” She wrinkled her nose. “But sometimes we have to rise above our feelings and do what’s right until the emotions line up with the actions.” She gasped. “Oh, nuts!”

  “Nuts?”

  “This means I have to go see Dean. If I’m going to tell you to forgive and change the cycle of destruction, I have to do the same thing.”

  Tony chuckled. “Then I guess if you can, I can. Let’s get back to Albuquerque and see if we can bust the devil’s chops some more by finding a missing woman.”

  “You’re on.” Desi climbed on the bike behind Tony and hugged his waist. “Thanks.”

  She didn’t need to explain what she was thanking him for. She heard his understanding in the gruff “Welcome” right before the cycle roared to life.

  Out on the narrow county highway, a road less traveled, Desi laid her head against Tony’s broad back and watched the scenery fly by. Warm contentment flowed from deep within.

  What a marvelous creation You thought up, Lord. And if Karen’s no longer part of it, I trust that Your mercy brought her back on the right path in the end. All I ask now is that You grant closure to the family she left behind. In Your Son’s name.

  The blast of an air horn brought her head up. Tony’s back stiffened. Their heads swiveled in tandem. The grinning grill of a monster semi roared down on them. A hundred feet, maybe less. Closing fast. Beneath her, the bike leaped forward, tires screeching on the pavement.

  She gripped Tony tighter and looked back again. Tons of flame-red metal whooshed toward them as
if they were stalled on the highway. Seventy-five feet. Less. A dark windshield hid the driver. The air horn wailed again, sending shivers to Desi’s core.

  The cycle’s engine screamed. Tony leaned forward, helmeted head almost to the handlebars. Desi pressed close. His heart beat hard against her hands locked around his chest. Hers drummed in echo. God, help us.

  Wind tore at the strands of hair that poked from beneath her helmet. Speed pressed her cheeks against her teeth and fluttered her lips. Her eyes watered from windburn, despite her visor. But Tony was taking the brunt. His big, gloved hands held steady on the throttle. The bike clung to the highway around one curve, another, speed increasing.

  Engine heat radiated onto her legs, then her back. Her back!

  She glanced behind. Metal teeth snarled at her from an enraged giant that filled her vision. The creature breathed hot coals from its belly onto her neck.

  The bike wobbled. Desi screamed and looked forward. A second semi shimmered toward them from the opposite direction, a metallic blue rocket.

  Muscles gathered in Tony’s back. Desi clung.

  They swept into another curve, but the cycle held straight and went airborne as it left the pavement. Her stomach curled around her backbone. The tires hit the packed desert sand, telegraphing protests from her tailbone. The rear wheel dug in and threw a cloud of powder and sun-browned grasses. Sage smell clogged her nostrils. Desi choked, grit stung her cheeks, and they surged ahead. Waffling. Slowing. No, gaining speed.

  To her left, the blue semi plowed toward them through a stand of yucca, flinging spiky leaves and branches before its gaping maw.

  A rise loomed ahead. The cycle labored to climb in the clinging sand. The tires bit bedrock and the bike flew forward, topped the rise, plunged down. A cluster of rocks grabbed the front wheel. The rear end whipped into the air. Desi flew, somersaulting in midflight.

  Bright pain splintered through her body, and the light winked out.

  Twenty

  A tunnel opened far away, and Desi saw light. Was she sup-posed to walk toward it? Isn’t that what some people said about life after death? She blinked. Wait a second. Do people blink after they die? And their mouths sure wouldn’t taste like they’d eaten dirt for breakfast.

  She turned her head and disturbed angry bruises up and down her body Not dead then. But where? All was dark except for the patch of light she lay in. The small hole that admitted the beam opened in a stone ceiling. She patted the surface beneath her. More stone. A cave?

  “You’re awake.” The female voice came from a place behind where her head rested.

  Desi sat up, ignoring the protest of stiff muscles. Her head whirled. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Gradually, her mind cleared. She opened her eyes, grateful when the room stayed steady.

  On a stone ledge sat a woman in a white robe. An angel come to carry her to glory?

  The woman rose and stepped into the light, robe swishing. The garment was little more than a long sack. Dirty bare toes peeped beneath it. Her dark hair hung lank and uncombed around her shoulders, but rose to a widow’s peak at the forehead.

  “Karen.” Desi breathed the name. “We found you.”

  “You shouldn’t have looked.” Karen squatted beside her, hugging her legs to her chest, robe puddled around her. “Who are you and why would you care?”

  “Desiree Jacobs.” Desi touched the girl’s knee. “Your Aunt Max’s best friend.”

  Karen’s dark eyes widened. “The one who captured a terrorist? That Desiree Jacobs?”

  “At the time it seemed the other way around, but I guess it’s how things end up that counts.”

  The girl rocked back and forth. “Things haven’t ended well now. Not the way I intended. I wanted to protect them, but I’m here, and nothing’s been fixed.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Adam. Brent. My mom. Are they all right?”

  “They’re fine, but they miss you. Did you run away, or were you kidnapped?”

  The girl licked cracked lips. “Both.”

  “But—”

  Karen gripped her arm hard enough to hurt. “Can you get us out of here?”

  Desi looked around. “Where’s here?”

  The young woman’s gaze roamed around the twilit walls that became more visible with every passing moment. A second source of light came from a rectangular doorway behind her. “An Anasazi cliff dwelling. It’s in a blind canyon closed off by a rock slide. I haven’t been able to find a way out. But someone like you—”

  “Where’s Tony?” Desi turned her head in every direction. The bare room had grown light enough to see, but no one else occupied the space.

  Karen stood. “You mean the dude they put down in the kiva hole? Can’t get to him, but he sounds like he might be bad hurt.”

  Desi leaped up, and pain flashed up her leg. She staggered and cried out. Karen stopped her from toppling with an arm around her shoulder. Desi leaned into the robed woman. “Show me.” She jerked her chin toward the door.

  Desi hobbled behind Karen onto a wide ledge overlooking a narrow valley between sheer sandstone cliffs. She squinted against the sunlight. Morning, but not early because the sun didn’t reach this gouge in the earth until it was well up.

  “Come on.” Karen motioned her toward a set of hand and foot holds carved into the wall. She climbed down the six feet or so to the valley floor.

  Favoring her leg, Desi followed. At least the ankle wasn’t broken. Karen picked up a fat clay jar from a rock. The pot had several small spouts with tiny openings. She put a spout to her lips and guzzled, then thrust the jar at Desi. “You’re supposed to have some.”

  Stop for a drink or find Tony? She pushed the container away “Tony first. He might need it more than we do.”

  Karen led across sparse, yellowed vegetation, around a nest of boulders, and across a patch of stone to an earth-covered mound about twenty feet in diameter. “He’s down there.”

  Desiree knelt at the edge of the kiva and gazed into the pit through a crack in dirt-covered wooden slats that were little more than sticks.

  “Tony?” Desi’s heart throbbed with the silence that answered. She looked up at Karen, who stood with slumped shoulders and dangling arms. Desi stood and grasped Karen’s shoulders. The girl was thinner than the photo she’d seen, and from her pinched face, no doubt dehydrated. “How deep is the pit? Can we use the ladder?”

  “Wouldn’t even reach halfway.” She brushed a lock of hair out of one dull eye.

  “Who put him down there, and how did they do it?”

  “Lowered him with ropes, but they took them with them when they left.”

  “You keep saying ‘they? Who did this?”

  Karen blinked at her. “The one with the bandage on his hand and the one that flies. They keep coming here looking for something, but they don’t find it. Makes ‘em mad.”

  “Looking for what?”

  Karen made a squiggle in the sand with her big toe. “Don’t know.”

  Desi crossed her arms. “You’re holding back on me, Karen. You’ve got to know more than you’re saying.”

  Her nostrils flared, and the vagueness receded from her face. “You have no idea what’s planned. They’ve given me my robe of sacrifice.” She spread her garment. Her mouth slackened, and she looked up at the sky. “They’ll come for us later.”

  Desi groaned. The woman hadn’t gone dim-witted—she was drugged. “What’s in the drinking pot?”

  Karen’s shoulders rippled. “Water. Not the stuff that drips out of the wall back in the cave. Tastes awful.” She made a face. “The good stuff. What they give me.”

  “Quit drinking the good stuff. The bad stuff is better for you.”

  Karen squinted at her and comprehension flickered. “Okay.”

  A low moan floated up from the kiva pit. Desi’s breath caught. “We’re going to get down there, and you’re going to help me. Take me to the bitter water.”

  Karen put a finger to her li
ps. “They don’t know about the spring.”

  Desi leaned close. “It’ll be our secret.”

  Karen headed toward the farther cliff on tiptoe. Whatever was in that joy juice had to be potent and fast acting. Desi followed the dipsy-doodle leader around an outcropping in the striated sandstone. They stopped at a hand-width fissure tucked into a wrinkle in the cliff face.

  “Here we are.” Karen giggled like a flower child. “Clever, huh?”

  “If you’re a gecko or a snake.” Some of those critters could be in there. Desi shuddered and stepped back.

  “Oh, come on, ‘fraidy-cat.” She walked forward and disappeared into the cliff.

  “Hey!” Desi moved ahead and passed through into cool dimness. She looked back. Optical illusion. The fold in the wall disguised an opening that more than accommodated a slender female. Clever, indeed. No wonder their captors hadn’t found this place.

  Ahead, Desi spotted a glimmer of light, but no Karen.

  “In here.” The young woman’s voice pulled Desi forward.

  Forty cautious steps downward and at a right angle brought her to the edge of a spacious grotto. Sunlight poured down from a larger hole than the one in the cliff dwelling where she woke up. A steady plink, plink echoed softly Desi crunched across sparkling grit toward a small pool that formed at the base of a natural spout of stone that jutted from the wall at the height of her head. As she watched, a bead of water formed, fattened, stretched, and released. Plink.

  Water from a rock. Moses would be as green as the stripes on the wall.

  Stripes on the wall? Desi looked closer. She ran a finger along the greenish tint, then the bluish layer. Finally, two plus two added up the way it should. All this booga-booga about a cult compound in the desert—just a smoke screen for the oldest motivator for crime in the book.

  She turned and found Karen kneeling at the pool’s edge. The young woman dipped a hand, brought it to her lips, and grimaced. “Nasty. Tastes like copper.”

  “Because it has a high copper content. Reason aplenty for some greedy creepazoid to want a secret base in the desert so he can look for what you’ve found. If this is high-grade ore, the Pueblo Santa Rita operation will look like chump change. And if it’s not on res land, whoever stakes the claim is lousy, stinkin’ rich.”