Skeletons Among Us: Legends of Treasure Book 2 Read online

Derrick was the first to speak. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Not many do.” Rep. Lankin shook his head. “Chris had a different last name than I. There was no foul play suspected. The whole thing happened before I got into politics. It all sort of melted into a black hole that I sometimes pretend never happened. Except that it did. A scared young man died out there all alone, frightened and confused, with no one to help him.” A hitch in his voice. “That is why I go hiking whenever I can in the Superstitions, in case I come across someone in his condition who I can help get home.”

  Melissa reached over and patted Rep. Lankin’s forearm.

  “Now,” the politician continued, “as Derrick knows, I’m a big supporter of a group called the Keepers. They’re a … well, I don’t even know what to call them. They’re people who have a special interest in the Superstitions. They helped me find Chris’s body. Derrick can tell us more about the Keepers a little later?”

  The large lumberjack-looking man nodded as he chewed. He was the first to have begun eating his dinner, though Brian, Grant, Beth, and Tom had followed suit.

  “Needless to say,” continued Rep. Lankin, “when we found Dakota’s skeleton I had a hard time keeping it together. I’m sorry I left early. I didn’t mean to abandon the group. I kept thinking … that could have been Chris.”

  “It was completely understandable,” said Melissa, looking up from the table. “No one could fault you for that. It must have been horrible.”

  Beth hit Maria’s leg underneath the table. She looked at her friend who had the same look on her face from earlier. With only the tip of her index finger, Maria traced the word “What?” onto the tablecloth between her plate and Beth’s.

  Beth responded by drawing, left handed no less, a heart with the initials L and M in it.

  Lankin and Melissa? Maria’s eyes opened wider at the realization.

  Beth nodded confidently and sat back in her chair, stabbing a roasted sweet potato on her plate with the silver fork.

  It took a moment for Maria to digest the information and contemplate how it affected the case. If he and Melissa had something going on, did this make him more or less likely to lie? Clearly, he would want Melissa’s name cleared—especially in light of the Keepers’ photograph of Dakota and the mystery woman.

  As if Dakota had somehow read Maria’s thoughts, she appeared in the room. She was so lifelike she could have passed for a real human except for the fuzzy haze that surrounded her. Her presence didn’t bother Maria. As with Acalan, the fact that it wasn’t Maria’s mind conjuring up hallucinations put her at ease with the supernatural beings.

  With a tone in his voice that made it clear he was winding down his remarks, Rep. Lankin said, “I don’t know how any of this affects the case—in fact I’m sure it doesn’t—but I felt it needed to be said. So now it’s time for the rest of you to let us know anything that could help Rod. Derrick, do you have information from the Keepers?”

  “The Keepers,” blurted Brian, “are literally a bunch of crazies.”

  Derrick shot an if-looks-could-kill glance Brian’s direction. “The Keepers have kept more people alive than any of you could possibly imagine. They are not crazies, and if you’re going to be derogatory about them, then I’m done here.”

  “Okay dude,” said Brian, more subdued. “You gotta admit they’re a little strange. I mean, you’re fine and all, but a lot of them look as if they haven’t lived with a flushing toilet for the last decade.”

  “Brian.” Rep. Lankin sent him a disapproving scowl. “Let Derrick talk.” Then to Derrick he said, “Brian’s had a few to drink. I don’t think he means to be abrasive. Just curious, like the rest of us.”

  The politician’s attempt at peacekeeping seemed to work. Derrick turned toward Melissa, shunning Brian at his right. “I don’t have the evidence with me. It’s been … misplaced.” He shot a look in Maria’s direction. “But, yes, the Keepers have proof Dakota was in the mountains on October 22, 2010 with an unidentified woman. Not with Rod.”

  The tension in the air grew. Was it from Melissa’s side of the table? Maria looked past Rod’s old friends eating their food and kept her vision on the ghost of Dakota. Maybe she was here to reveal something. But, as usual, she showed no response.

  Yet even with her emotionless face, she was a beautiful woman. Toned with contours in just the right places. Hair falling in dark waves around her shoulders. Black eyes with a band of plum around the outside of the pupil, reflecting light from the dining room’s chandelier. Feminine lips tugged downward, not in anger but in—

  Confusion?

  Did Dakota not know who her killer was? Was she here to learn more about it like the rest of them were?

  Distracted by Dakota’s presence, Maria lost track of what Derrick was saying. She came back to the conversation to hear Tom drilling the lumberjack man with questions.

  “What kind of proof do you have? You need to give us more to go on than your word. To show up here and claim Dakota was with a woman in the Superstitions with absolutely no substantiation is the dumbest—”

  “Here’s the proof.” Maria stood, holding up the photograph she’d stolen from the Keepers, which she’d brought with her in her backpack. “This …ahhh … fell into my possession a few days ago.” No need to rub it in Derrick’s face that his precious lodge was hardly breakin proof. “It’s a photograph taken on October 22, 2010 in the Superstitions. You’ll notice there are two women in the photo, one is Dakota the other is not identifiable. Tell me what you think of it.” She handed the picture to Grant who passed it to Melissa.

  Melissa greedily took the evidence and began studying the photo.

  Dakota’s ghost moved behind the defense attorney, looking at the picture as well. For the first time since Maria had seen her, she showed some expression. A look of recognition. Not that that told Maria anything. Of course Dakota would recognize a picture of herself.

  “That is definitely Dakota,” said Melissa, turning the printed photograph over in her hand, looking at the back. “How long have the Keepers had this? And why didn’t they come forward with it when Rod was under investigation six years ago?”

  Derrick folded his arms, on the defensive again.

  “Derrick,” said Rep. Lankin, “we deserve to know. I’ve done a lot for the Keepers. I’d hate to start withdrawing my support now.”

  Derrick thought a moment then conceded. “The Keepers maintain a close watch on certain areas of the mountains. Always. But they keep the information to themselves. I might remind you all, no one knew Dakota had even gone to the Superstitions, let alone died there, until we found her skeleton a few days ago.”

  “True,” said Brian, “but if they had come forward with the photo six years ago, when Dakota’s picture was splashed on every TV screen for a week, we would have known at least where to have begun looking.”

  “Which would have meant more people in the mountains, attracting more attention to the area. The more people stay out of the mountains, the safer they are.”

  Maria quickly chewed and swallowed a bite of chicken. “Are people safer staying away from the mountains because if they go in the Keepers shoot arrows at them? Like they did to me, Beth, and Tom the other day?”

  “That was not the Keepers, exactly.” Derrick’s expression turned sour. “Some in our group have gone rogue. They don’t abide by our laws, and they take things into their own hands. Though I’m sure they were only sending a warning. They wouldn’t have missed if they really wanted you dead.”

  Tom was on his feet. “Are you kidding me?” he yelled. “That was your looney tunes group who almost shot me with an arrow? I seriously could wring your neck. Do you know I almost died?”

  Derrick began to protest.

  Tom didn’t let him get a word in. “I thought I was getting shot at because of Dakota’s murder, not because you and a bunch of other misfits want to play treasure hunting.”

  “Is that why you were saying Dakota’s name u
p in the mountains?” asked Beth.

  “Yes. I was worried we’d gotten ourselves into trouble with whoever killed Dakota. But clearly it was all just a game!” With each word Tom’s voice rose higher.

  Melissa reached out a hand and placed it on the arm of Tom’s chair, ready to hold the private detective back if he took a sudden violent lurch for Derrick.

  “I should give you a taste of your own medicine.” Tom threw his fork at Derrick. It clattered onto a plate. “I was practically eaten alive by ants! Did you know that? Did you take pictures of that too?”

  “Dude, take it easy,” said Brian, pouring Tom a glass of wine. “Drink this.” He handed it to Tom, who took a sip and sat back down.

  “This is getting a little wild here. My kind of party.” It was Brian’s attempt at a joke.

  Dakota’s ghost had scooted away from the table and was now perched in the window sill.

  “I’d better take the next turn before I hit Rep. Lankin’s liquor cabinet over there.” Brian took a file folder out of his laptop bag and handed it to the representative. “In there you’ll find Rod’s will and other legal documents. I’m afraid none of it is very informative. He hasn’t touched it since after his marriage to Dakota. She got a chunk of his money and the rest went to several charities. With no wife in the picture, his money now reverts back to his parents. Those two are so loaded, I can’t imagine they’d pick off their own daughter-in-law, even if they didn’t like her.”

  Grant bristled but stayed quiet.

  “One other thing.” Brian pursed his lips, the semblance of seriousness on his face. “When Rod got married he came to me in confidence and told me Dakota had been married before. The guy had been a real jerk, and she’d gotten the marriage annulled. Rod wanted to make sure Dakota’s ex wouldn’t be a legal problem down the road. He didn’t want him showing up out of the woodwork and harassing Dakota in any way. I looked into it for him to put his mind to rest. The man didn’t have any legal claim to Dakota’s physical assets. But …” He pointed to the photograph of the woman with Dakota. “… maybe he had a jealous streak or had a new wife who didn’t want to play second best. People are weird that way.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Rep. Lankin. “Can you get Melissa the man’s name?”

  “Absolutely.” Brian typed something into his cell phone. “I’ll dig it up on my computer at the office tomorrow morning.”

  Melissa was frowning … in a good sort of way. “That is very interesting, Brian.” More frowns. “Very interesting. Something else that we kept out of the news when Dakota disappeared was that someone tried to blackmail Rod. The police didn’t want to leak that information. They hoped to use it to find Dakota, but then all communication stopped. They eventually said it had been a hoax. Some even accused Rod of setting up the fake blackmail himself to throw everyone off the scent. But what if it hadn’t been a hoax? What if it was connected to this ex-husband of Dakota’s?”

  Maria glanced at the ghost, who seemed to have lost interest in the conversation. Did she think it was her former husband? Or his new wife? Dakota wandered about the room, looking through the glass panes into a corner china hutch.

  Melissa huffed. “That might explain why Dakota wrote that stuff about Rod in her journal. Maybe her ex-husband threatened to kill her if she didn’t. Maybe it was his idea all along to set up Dakota’s death as if Rod killed her, and then blackmail Rod to keep quiet.”

  It wasn’t a bad theory. Most everyone in the room liked it, especially because it put all the blame on strangers. But Tom didn’t seem to buy it. “Then why not carry through with the plan? That took a lot of work to orchestrate. Why did the blackmail stop?”

  Melissa tapped her wine glass with her fingernail. “I don’t know. I just don’t know … unless—”

  All of a sudden, the lights in the dining room flicked and went black. There had been no loud noise. No clack of thunder. Just immediate total darkness.

  Confused voices from the kitchen staff next to the dining room indicated power was off in the whole house.

  “What on earth!” exclaimed Rep. Lankin, an edge in his voice. “This hasn’t happened befo—”

  One loud cough.

  Gasping.

  A gag.

  Then silence.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The Apache’s hiding place was a natural fortress—an immense cave, with but a single entrance. It was located at the very lip of an impassable gorge. The Apaches felt their cave with its restricted entrance would secure them from the cavalry rifles. Direct firing into the cave was impossible because of the right angle turn the steep trail made as it approached the entrance. Soon, however, it was discovered that a sloping granite slab overhung the entrance to the Apaches’ hideout, and bullets fired at the slab would deflect into the cave.

  —“Fool’s Gold,” by Robert Sikorsky, Golden West Publishers, 1983, page 49.

  THE LED LIGHT BULB from the flashlight Maria grabbed out of her backpack cast an unnatural light around the room. The first thing she noticed was that Dakota’s ghost had vanished. The second thing was that the Keepers’ photograph was no longer on the table. The third thing was that Derrick had both of his own hands around his neck in the universal sign for choking.

  “The Heimlich!” yelled Maria. “Derrick needs the Heimlich!”

  By the time Maria ran around the table to Derrick’s seat, Tom was already there. He was tugging underneath Derrick’s armpits, trying to get him to stand up.

  “Get up!” barked Maria. “You’ve got to stand up, now!”

  The lumbering giant pushed himself up. Tom reached his arms around Derrick from behind, fisted both hands, and shoved them below Derrick’s breastbone, pulling in and up.

  Once.

  Twice.

  On the third time, a chunk flew out of Derrick’s mouth, narrowly missing Rep. Lankin’s head, and landed ten feet away from the table.

  “What on earth was that?” hollered Melissa.

  Just then the lights flickered on to full brightness.

  Beth ran to the object and picked it up with her napkin. “It’s a piece of chicken.” She laid the offending piece of meat on the table.

  Derrick sucked air into his lungs and then began coughing. “I-I h-hate it when I do that,” he said. His comments triggered a chain reaction of laughter.

  “I seriously thought we were all going to die.” Melissa giggled. “Like we’d all been called here on purpose so the murderer could kills us.”

  More laughter.

  Tom patted Derrick on the back, their argument from before forgotten. “You okay, big guy?”

  Derrick nodded and spoke, still breathless. “Y-yes. I owe you one. When the lights went off I had put a bite in my mouth. The darkness surprised me and I guess I forgot to chew.”

  As the laughter began to wind down, Brian noted, “Do you guys know what? It was kind of like that Agatha Christie mystery. You know, when everyone goes to an island and then one by one they kill each other off. What was it called again?”

  “And Then There Were None,” said Rep. Lankin. “Great book.”

  “Yes,” agreed Maria. “It was a great book.” As she put her flashlight away she asked, “Where did the Keepers’ photograph of Dakota go?”

  “It was right here—” Melissa reached out but then stopped. The picture was gone. “Oh, it must have gotten knocked off onto the floor.”

  A ten-minute search ensued, turning up nothing.

  As Maria guessed it would.

  Someone in the room had taken the photograph, which meant one thing.

  Someone felt guilty.

  ***

  After an unsettled night and a second call to her friend at the CIA, Maria walked through the hallways of the mental health facility where Rod was being “treated.” Grant and Beth had stopped at the judicial office before coming, so she was by herself except for the guard who escorted her.

  Outside Rod’s room stood another guard who’d clearly ha
d too long of a shift. His shoulders slumped and his eyes blinked in slow motion. He jumped to attention, however, when the door behind him opened and a doctor exited Rod’s room.

  Just her luck. It was the same one Maria had discussed Rod’s condition with the day before. He scratched his chin and stared past her, into nothing.

  Maria expected something a little more along the lines of utter disdain and total disgust. Not complete dismissal.

  The doctor turned back around to write something on the chart on Rod’s door. Maria squinted to see what it said, but she was too far away. Checking his watch, he grunted and was about to scurry away.

  Maria stepped directly in his path. “Hello. Maria Branson here. I’m with the Kanab police department, and we’re here investigating the—”

  “Aren’t you the lady who chewed me out yesterday?” He glanced back at the room number on the door as if recalling a bad memory.

  “Yes. Yes I did. I’d had some bad news and I let myself—”

  “Well, you were right.”

  “What?” Maria felt adrenaline rush down her back into her arms and legs. “Right about what?”

  “His fever’s up. Significantly. The patient has some sort of infection. Whether or not he’s got an additional neuroses, I’m not sure.”

  “What kind of an infection is it?” Maria bit her lip.

  “Not sure. We ran blood tests through the night and came up empty handed. We’ve got him on the strongest antibiotic available, but it’s not bringing the fever down. His face is starting to swell. It’s quite odd. Has anyone around him been sick?”

  “Nobody,” Maria answered.

  The doctor nodded. “It’s a bit of a mystery. I’m sure it’s not contagious, but I made a note and we’re going to quarantine the room just to follow protocol.”

  “Can I see him? I’ll wear gloves. A mask. I promise not to touch him. Whatever it takes.”

  The doctor sternly looked her up and down “It’s your call. You’ll already be on a medical watch since you were here yesterday.”

  “Not a problem. Thanks.” Maria rushed past the doctor and into Rod’s room.