Callahan's Gold (Southwest Desert Series Book 3) (15 page)

And himself? Teaching? Not much hope in that. Oh, he could continue being a drifter, a sun seeker. Not a very promising future. But it seemed to be all he knew. He dozed until the pink shafts of dawn colored the sky above the eastern slopes of the Dragoon Mountains. Dodge boiled coffee to a rich black brew. Yazzie joined him, and slowly the others began to wake.

They ate a meager breakfast of pan toast with honey and canned fruit before heading up to the mine, leaving the breakfast cleanup to Rex. He tackled the job willingly, for it gave him something to do. Even though his culinary efforts were one-handed and clumsy, he could make a contribution to the expedition.

Meanwhile, the others sweated and chipped away at the hard rock that concealed the elusive gold without the convenience of dynamite.

It was midmorning when the shout echoed against the mountains. "Gold! We found gold!"

Ramona waved excitedly at Rex. "Come on up and see it, Rex! Gold!"

He waved in return and hurriedly made his way up the hill, leading a pack mule as he had been instructed. The mule would haul the gold back. Oh, they were well prepared for the bonanza! Rex clucked and pulled on the mule's bridle. By the time they reached the mine, he was bathed in perspiration from the rising heat, and the mule was covered in a thin, foamy lather.

The heat only increased his disappointment at the meager gold. "This is it?"

They gathered around the little pile of rocks. It took a trained eye to determine that there was gold somewhere in that yellowish stone. And Rex's eye was far from trained. He—as well as the others— expected glittering hunks.

Yazzie's fiendish laughter cackled at Rex's reaction. "Yep, that's about it. Hardly worth a broken arm and cracked ribs, is it?"

Rex bent to handle the rocks and let the smaller pieces tumble through his fingers. "How do you know it's gold? It isn't gold colored. It's . . . it's ugly!"

Ramona knelt beside Rex and pointed out several discolored trails through the rocks. "There. And there. Dodge says it is. Even Yazzie admitted it was gold."

"Of course, we have to have it assayed to determine its value," Dodge explained.

Yazzie laughed again. "Right now we hardly have enough to pay for the supplies and food for this trip. Haven't gotten to your doctor bills yet, Rex."

"Come on, Yazzie," Dodge said. "This is just the beginning. It merely proves there's gold down there. All we have to do is get to work and find it."

"And haul it out," Ramona added soberly. She, too, was disappointed in the quantity. She could only hope the quality was high.

"Hell, all we have to do is chip this whole mountain away!" Yazzie exploded. "And all Rex has to do is wait for us to do the work. Then he can be rich."

Rex stood and faced Yazzie angrily. "Look, you jackass. Who do you suppose put the money up for this little exploration in the first place? I funded everything that Sharkey did, and I'm still putting out the bucks! So far, all I've gotten in return is a broken arm, cracked ribs, and a lot of flack from the likes of you!"

Dodge stepped between them. "Take it easy, you two. Everybody's hot and tired today. Yazzie, he's right. Rex's investment comes off the top of our find."

"Not mine," Yazzie said stoutly.

"Let's work this out later," Ramona said. "Time's passing and it's getting hotter. Come on. We have work to do. It's our turn to go down, Yazzie. Let's go. They can load what we have here." She took Yazzie's arm and led him away from the confrontation.

"What's wrong with him?" Rex moaned as he opened one of the saddlebags for Dodge to load their small prize.

"Beats me. We're all tired, though. Two nights with practically no sleep have left me nearly exhausted. I guess Yazzie is in about the same shape."

"Why don't you go take a little siesta, Dodge?" Rex suggested.

Tory agreed. "Yes. This will be a good time while Yazzie and Ramona are down in the mine. After they've had their turn, we'll all take a lunch break."

"Actually, we should all take a little siesta until this heat has eased up a little," Rex said.

"Sounds too good to refuse," Dodge replied, shaking his head. "Okay. Just a couple of hours, though. Wake me." He left the mule for Tory to lead and accompanied Rex back down the small mountain to camp.

As Dodge heaved himself down in the shade of a large mesquite tree, he muttered, "Just a few hours of shut-eye, Rex. Then I want to go after the mining again."

Rex prepared sandwiches for lunch, and afterward, everyone willingly agreed to take a break from the extreme heat. And still Dodge slept.

"He didn't even wake for lunch. He must have been exhausted," Ramona commented.

"I think so," Tory agreed, her gentle gaze caressing Dodge's long, lean frame stretched out under the tree. His Stetson shaded his face from the midday sun, and his hands lay relaxed below his belt buckle. His jean-clad legs sprawled apart.

Tory joined Ramona. She pulled out her fingernail clippers. "My hands are a mess Nails will never be the same," she grumbled.

Ramona shifted restlessly and finally said, "You know, Tory, this will probably be my last chance to explore this area, especially if we head back tomorrow. How would you like to go with me to look for Indian pictographs?"

Tory considered the offer for a moment, and nodded. "Sure, Ramona. I'd love to go. It sounds interesting."

"I think it is. You never know what you'll find." Ramona's eyes lighted up with the prospect of introducing Tory to her special hobby. "Sharkey used to go with me. It wasn't his thing, but he did share some of my enthusiasm. And he helped with some interesting finds."

The two women started off together, hiking around the base of the pyramid-shaped mountain.

They found a few pot-shards, broken remnants of the lives of ancient people who lived in the area hundreds of years ago. Spurred on by the interesting items, they started to climb toward the huge boulders on the far side of the pyramid.

"We're in luck, Tory. Here's something that's very old." Ramona picked up a smooth gray stone large enough to fill her palm and held it out. "The Indians used this against another stone to grind corn into meal. It's called a mano. The other part is a bowl-shaped stone and called a metate. It might be around here, too. Let's try to find it."

The women searched intently for the other part of the ancient kitchen utensil.

"Ramona, this looks like a small stairway, carved right into the rocks." Tory pointed to the shallow grooves pock-marking a sheer rock, leading upward. "Do we dare follow it?"

Ramona examined the area. "It leads up to that ledge. Are you afraid to climb up there?"

"After the climbing we've done in that gold mine?" Tory laughed. "Heavens no! This is a breeze. Let's go. I'm curious."

"At the very least, we'll have a great view of the whole valley from up there," Ramona said, and led the way. Carefully, she placed each foot into one carved step at a time. She grasped the steps above her for balance.

Tory watched the process and followed suit. When they reached the ledge, they found that it was a sort of staircase landing in the rocks. The stairs continued. So the women proceeded farther.

At the next landing, the path led to a low, narrow opening between two huge boulders.

"Shall we go on?" Tory eagerly went ahead. "This is fascinating, Ramona. Do you think ancient people actually lived here?"

"Oh, yes. It's a secure area, with an excellent view of the valley for protection. The warriors could sit here and see for miles. Imagine the Indian woman climbing this with a baby strapped to her back."

"I'll bet it made them think twice before they said, 'I'm going for a walk,' " Tory said, chuckling. "Or told the kids to go out and play." But her laughter dwindled as she squeezed through the doorway and turned the corner that led into a cave-like room. And stepped back in time.

She drew in a gasp and stared in silent amazement, awestruck by the ancient trappings surrounding her. The room looked as if it had just been abandoned by the near Stone Age family who lived in it.

Ramona stepped into the cave and stood beside Tory in silence. Finally, she murmured, "Oh, my God, I can't . . . believe it." Her voice cracked with emotion as she realized just exactly what they'd found. "This is a chance of a lifetime, Tory. It's an anthropologist's dream, like a real-life museum, left intact for the future generations to find. Usually, all we have to work with are bits and pieces. But it's all here together. I still can't believe it's never been found."

Tory began to walk around, curiously picking at a few things. "This must have been the kitchen," she said, an unconscious reverence in her voice. Charcoal sticks lay in a circular pile on the floor, and soot marred the ceiling above it. A huge clay pot, the bottom blackened from cooking, waited for the next meal. Though undecorated, the pot was unchipped, a rare relic, even for museums.

Pots and bowls crudely painted with black and white designs were stacked along one wall, waiting for the next meal.

"Everything for their daily lives is here," Ramona said, moving through the room. "The kitchen, with their crude utensils. They must have slept over here. Look, Tory, a turkey-feather blanket. I've seen a couple in museums, but most haven't survived—they're so fragile. And look at this, a wooden toy. And this . . ." Ramona went around the room, exclaiming over each discovery, explaining them all to Tory with pure, exhilarated enthusiasm.

Tory appreciated the rarity of the articles, but as Ramona continued to talk, she began to realize the academic significance of the find. Ramona would receive tremendous credit and accolades in her field of work. It would provide great opportunities. No wonder Ramona was so excited.

Ramona picked up a crudely woven basket. "This might be two, three or four hundred years old, Tory! I just can't believe it!"

"It's amazing to think they've lasted that long."

"Pueblo Bonito, in New Mexico, was like this. And Mesa Verde in Colorado. The cowboys who found them sold the items to other states, even other countries. But this one—Pyramid—will remain here, in tact, for extensive study. Future generations can learn firsthand how the people lived in those years. Oh, Tory!" Ramona turned around, tears of joy filling her eyes. "I'm so glad you were here with me today. As a witness to my documentation."

"So am I. Look!" Tory reached down. "Could this be an ancient spear—."

"Do not touch it!" a loud voice demanded.

Startled, both women looked up.

Yazzie stood by the doorway, a gun in his hand. "I said, don't touch a thing in here. It is a holy place."

"Why, Yazzie, surely you know we would never damage anything here. It's amazing, isn't it?" Tory took a step toward him.

"Hold it right there," he warned, and lifted the weapon a little higher. "Do not move from that spot."

"Yazzie . . ." Tory's eyes riveted to the gun and the inlaid turquoise star on the barrel. Dodge's gun—the one stolen from the trailer.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"You!" Tory gasped. "You're the one!"

"Shut up!" Yazzie demanded, the gun in his hand wavering slightly.

Ramona took a step forward and muttered, "Put that stupid gun away, Yazzie. We aren't—"

"Don't make a move! Stand still, Ramona!"

Instinctively, Tory reached for Ramona's arm. "Do as he says, Ramona. I'm afraid he means business."

"Huh? Yazzie?"

Tory looked accusingly at the man with the gun. "You broke into my motel room, didn't you? And when you didn't find the map, you broke into Sharkey's old trailer where Dodge was living."

"He did what?" Ramona looked at Tory as if she had lost her mind. "I've never heard any of this."

"We didn't mention the break-ins," Tory explained. "Mainly because we didn't want to alarm anyone. Plus we didn't know who did it and wanted to see if the person would show his hand. And sure enough"—she narrowed her eyes at Yazzie—"you did. You scum! You took Dodge's gun! Did you also have anything to do with Rex's fall?"

"You can't prove anything."

"Oh, yes, I can. Dodge's gun has a mark. The star on the barrel. I remember it. Anyway, it's registered. And numbers don't lie."

"No, but I do," Yazzie sneered. "And you poor, dear ladies won't live to tell anybody otherwise."

"You can't shoot us! Dodge and Rex will hear gunshots and know who did it." Tory folded her arms defiantly. Her brave facade was just a masquerade, but with her arms clinched tightly, no one could see her hands shaking.

"Not if I shoot them first."

"Shoot them?" Ramona gasped. "But why? What is this all about, Yazzie?"

He began pulling a thin rope from his hip pocket. "I have to keep them from finding this treasure. This is holy ground, the place where spirits live. It is unfortunate that you two found it. Now you must die."

"That's ridiculous, Yazzie," Tory objected. "Yes, this place is a treasure, but it's a national treasure that belongs to everyone. It's a wonderful discovery."

"It must never be discovered again. The spirits must be allowed to rest here alone." He began walking slowly toward them.

"That's crazy!" Tory said. "We aren't going to destroy it—"

This time Ramona hushed Tory with a squeeze of her arm. "Don't anger him anymore, Tory. This is what he's been after all along. Not necessarily the gold, but the Indian treasures here. The part about the spirits is folly. I don't believe that at all. You want to sell these artifacts, don't you, Yazzie?"

Yazzie's mouth spread into a sinister grin. "The cowboys discovered that these old things are worth a fortune on the foreign and black markets. They're worth nothing here. But I will sell them only when I'm ready. And I will not share the profits with four. I discovered them, and I will be the one to gain."

"Then you knew that Sharkey had found this place, too. You followed him here. You—"

"Sharkey got in the way!" Yazzie said angrily. "He was stupid, only caring about the gold. There isn't enough gold here to buy a broken-down mule! But these"—he waved the gun in an arc—"these are centuries-old artifacts that are worth thousands. Many thousands!"

Ramona's face paled and became drawn as the awful realization settled in. "You—oh, God, you killed him!"

In one catlike motion, she lunged for Yazzie. He tried to avoid her and stepped back quickly, stumbling in the process. He landed on the floor, in a seated position, looking up at Ramona. With both hands, he raised the gun to aim directly at her stomach and pulled back the hammer.

"Don't come any closer, or I'll shoot you now," he commanded coldly.

Frantic, Tory grabbed her friend in a bear hug from behind and held as tightly as she could.

Ramona was hysterical, sobbing and screaming, "You killed him! You killed him! How could you do that to your friend? I hate you!"

Tory had no time to react to the news, for she could only think that she had to keep Ramona from getting shot by the crazed Yazzie. She held on as tightly as she ever had, using strength drawn from an inner power she didn't know existed. But she held on. "Ramona, please, don't! You have to keep your head right now. Don't make it harder on me."

Yazzie was on his feet in an instant. He tossed one length of rope to Tory and barked, "Use one end and tie her up. Make it tight, because I'm going to check it. Hands behind her back. Leave the other end for her ankles. Don't try any tricks."

Tory began clumsily wrapping the hemp rope around Ramona's wrists. By now, Ramona had stopped struggling. She was limp and weak as tears streamed down her face. Tears of hatred and of sorrow.

When Tory finished her unpleasant job, Ramona stood erect and faced her lover's killer with a defiant gleam in her dark eyes. "You'll get yours, you bastard," she muttered. "I'll see to it! You'll never get away with this."

He laughed defiantly. "Not from you, Ramona. No one will see or hear from you again. The facts will die with you. Now, sit over there against the wall." He shoved her and she fell clumsily to the spot he indicated. To Tory, he barked, "Tie her feet with the other end of that rope."

Tory did as she was told. There was nothing else to do with a cocked gun pointed at them.

"Now, you turn around," he said gruffly. "Hands behind your back."

She did and with some relief heard the thirty-eight's hammer released. Yazzie tied her hands so tightly that she could feel her fingers tingling even before he finished. Then he pushed her down and tied her feet.

"When they find you two, you'll look like that skeleton we left in the wash halfway down the mountain." He laughed evilly as he backed out of the room. "You'll never get out of here, so don't even try."

Tory lay very still, hoping, praying he would leave them unharmed for now. She could hear certain strange noises coming from Yazzie, but when all was quiet, she whispered to Ramona, "What was he doing?"

"Beats me. I think he's gone."

They waited a while longer, but as soon as they were sure he was gone, they began struggling to release their bonds.

After a few minutes, Ramona stopped struggling. "Now, wait a minute. This is not working. We can't untie them, obviously, so they have to be cut or burned or broken in some way."

"Well, just whip out your trusty pocket knife and cut them," Tory muttered dryly.

"I usually do carry a pocket knife, so don't laugh."

"Then get it! I'm not laughing."

"It's in my saddlebag at camp."

Tory groaned. "Good place. At least it's safe."

"Maybe there's something around here we can use," Ramona mused, rolling to her side so she could look around the room.

"Even I know the Indians didn't have pocket knives in those days."

"No, but they did have spears. You almost picked one up."

"Ramona, dear, I'm sure that after two hundred years or so, that spear has lost its edge."

"Well, there must be something that will cut these ropes."

"Clip them? Yeah, clip!" Tory said with mounting excitement. "Clippers! I've got some fingernail clippers in my jeans pocket. I had to trim another broken fingernail just before we left, and I stuffed the clippers into my pocket. Now, if I could only reach it . . ."

"Roll over here. I'll see if I can get it out," Ramona said quietly. "I'll back up to you, and you scoot around until my hand can reach into your pocket."

It took them almost half an hour of wriggling and twisting, but the clippers were finally captured and the ropes were cut, bit by tiny bit. Finally, when the last string was snipped, they both expelled a whoop of joy and, in a spontaneous mo
ment, hugged each other. Then they dashed for the narrow exit.

"Dammit! He blocked it!" Tory grasped futilely at the huge stone Yazzie had wedged between the two boulders that formed the small entrance to the cave.

"So that's what he was doing! I could hear him grunting but couldn't imagine what he was doing. Maybe we can move it." Ramona pounded impotently on the stone with both knotted fists. "Oh, how I hate that man! We can't let him continue with his evil deeds. We just can't!"

Unwilling to accept defeat, they pushed and shoved and heaved at the immovable force until they slumped on the floor in exhaustion.

"Now what?" Tory moaned. "We have to warn Dodge and Rex. If not, it'll be disastrous for all of us."

"Maybe there's another way out of here." Ramona hopped to her feet.

"I never thought of that." Tory followed closely behind her.

Ramona pointed out a sliver of light between several rocks. "I'm sure this served as a window for the ancient ones who lived here."

Tory squinted closely at the window, which was located high above their heads. "If I could somehow boost you up there, Ramona, do you think you could slip through?"

Ramona gazed skeptically at the slit. "No way. I'm not that thin. But we can yell and try to attract attention."

Eagerly, they yelled at Dodge and Rex until they were hoarse, but no one answered their calls. And they weren't sure anyone even heard them. In frustration, they explored the room again.

Ramona ran her large hands along the walls. "See if you can find any breaks or hidden entrances."

Suddenly, Tory felt the stone beneath her fingers shift. Excitedly, she cried out. "Look, Ramona! A hole!"

They discovered a narrow tunnel, a passageway to another area. Eagerly, on hands and knees, they followed it. At the end was another room, this one much smaller and completely empty. There was no exit there.

"What was this room used for, Ramona? It looks strange to be so empty when the other one is so full of interesting items."

"Yes," Ramona said as she walked around the small area, rubbing the walls with curious fingertips. "It's depleted." She stopped short and looked up at Tory. "Depleted ... Oh, God, Tory. That's it! Yazzie has already stripped this one and sold some artifacts. It makes me sick to think of it."

"I'll bet he loads them on the mules and hauls them out of the mountains," Tory said. "That might explain what he's been doing every night when he goes off by himself. Loading his saddlebags with artifacts."

"Yes, that's it! I'm sure of it! And he probably intends to lock us in here so he can unload that other room. Nobody would ever find us here."

"Especially if he dynamited the hallway leading to this room."

"Dynamite? Then he has some explosives, after all."

Tory nodded. "Dodge and I saw him load something on his mule before we left his cabin. Then Dodge figured out it was dynamite to blast for the gold."

"Well, obviously it wasn't for the gold mine. In fact, the best I can figure it, this cave backs up to the mine on the other side of the mountain. Their rear walls probably meet. So if we used dynamite in the mine, we'd risk tearing this place apart. That's why Yazzie didn't want Dodge using it."

"Of course! Oh, he is a devil, that Yazzie! Is there no way out of here, Ramona? We've got to warn Dodge!" Tory swallowed hard and discovered she was near tears. They'd really gotten themselves into a terribly dangerous mess. And she was scared—more scared than she'd ever been. Not only was her own life in jeopardy, but those of her friends. And Dodge. What could happen to him frightened her more than anything. She couldn't stand the thought of Dodge getting hurt. Or losing him now.

"It looks like a dead end," Ramona said, turning back to the wall and pressing and scraping with her fingers. A loose stone came off into her hand, and she smashed it in frustration against the wall.

The stone broke into several pieces and fell to the floor, as did several chunks of the wall. Ramona stared, then picked up another stone and banged it against the same spot. Breathing rapidly, she picked up another. And another.

"Ramona, I know you're upset, but this won't help," Tory said. "Anyway, you might hurt your hand . . ."

"Tory!" Ramona ran her hand along a discolored strip on the rock wall. "Tory, look at this!"

"Ramona, please stop before you—"

"Do you see that I've uncovered a vein of gold?"

"What?"

Ramona turned an excited face to Tory. "This is it! This is what Sharkey sent us after! The gold is here!"

Tory peered dubiously at the discolored vein. It was hard to see in the cave's semidarkness, and this wasn't exactly what she had in mind for the big gold discovery. However, if Ramona said this was gold, she guessed it was. "Fat lot of good a gold discovery does us now. Look what a mess we're in!"

Ramona sighed. "You're right. We have to get out of here and warn the others."

In desperation, they went back to the tiny window and yelled some more. Finally, with backs pressed against the wall, they sat on the cold rock floor.

"It's getting dark," Tory murmured sadly.

"Yeah."

"Damn! I wish I knew what Yazzie was doing. What's happening down there?"

Sudden gunshots penetrated the heavy silence. Two of them. Then more silence.

Tory grabbed Ramona's hand and fought back tears. She'd never been so afraid in all her life. Afraid for the man she loved. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed silently. It just couldn't be Dodge. But her imagination went berserk and she saw Dodge writhing in the dust, clutching his chest. Her eyes flew open. "Oh, my God, Ramona. I can't stand this!"