Desert Heat (18 page)

Bodine
turned off the engine and got out.
“Where?
Show me.”

They
walked into the raft office.

He
whistled. “You’re a real popular fellow, aren’t you?”

Mike
didn’t answer that, but said, “The same thing happened to my buddy up at River
Adventures. The SRPL did it. They caught the guy red handed, and his is exactly
the same kind of thing.”

 
“Did you see anyone around?”
Bodine
reached for his notebook.

 
“No. Mallory and I were inside.”
About to make love.

 
“Anybody else out here?”

 
“Brent, Dianna, and Shelby.”
Mike reluctantly listed his friends. How much more of this would they be
willing to take? They’d already gone above and beyond for him.

 
“Get them.”
Bodine
shut his notebook and stuffed it in his pocket.

Mike
took his cell phone out and dialed each and asked them to come to the raft
office.

Brent
appeared first. “What can I tell you?”

The
sheriff took him by the elbow. “Let’s move over here and talk.”

Dianna
and Shelby joined them. Shelby looked around at the ruined rafts. “What’s going
on?”

 
“Vandals.
Probably our friends at the SRPL.
He’s making a report.”
Mike gestured toward the sheriff.

 
“Why now?” Shelby’s voice rose in dismay.

 
“I don’t know.”

Dianna
kicked one of the ruined floats. “I’d like to tear their heads off.”

 
“Me, too,” Mike said, “but we can’t do
anything until we find out who did this.”

“We
know who did it,” Dianna declared hotly. Her short hair almost stood on end.

Mike
corrected her. “We think we do anyway.”

Brent
joined them. “The sheriff wants to talk to you, Shelby.”

She
walked away.

 
“What did he say?” Dianna stuck her hands
under her armpits and glared.

 
“Nothing much.
Wanted to know if I’d seen or heard anything.
I didn’t, so I
wasn’t much help.” He directed his attention to Mike. “I don’t think we’re
going to find anyone. The sheriff said he’d run prints, but I bet there’s
nothing to go on.”

 
“What makes you say that?” Mike had a moment’s
confusion. “Do you think the vandals wore gloves?”

 
“Probably,” Brent said. “Even though we all
know who did it. But proving it is going to be hard. They’ve got the law and
the judge on their side because they have political clout.”

Mike
refused to believe it. “
Bodine
seems honest.”

Dianna
snorted.
“Maybe.”

The
man in question motioned for her to come. Her lips turned down and she rolled
her eyes,
then
did as requested.

Brent
shuffled his feet, and stuffed his hands deep in his pockets. He spoke in a low
tone. “Mike, do you think Di would do something rotten out of jealousy?”

 
“What do you mean?” Mike wasn’t going to go
down this path.

 
“Don’t make me spell it out, man. You know
what I’m asking.” Brent looked like he might cry.

Mike
dug in his heels.
“No way.
No how.” There was no way
Dianna had done this because she was mad.

 
“Look, we all know she’s got a temper. And
she’s been in love with you forever.” Brent looked toward the two women and the
sheriff. “And, Mike, I don’t want to say this. We’ve all been friends for a
long, long time, but there wasn’t anyone else around. I checked the rafts last
night after I was in the kitchen, then again this morning. There wasn’t
anything wrong with them.”

 
“Dianna wouldn’t do that.” Mike held his
ground. There was no way his friend would turn on him. She knew what it would do
to their friendship. He might not feel the way she wanted him to feel, but she
wouldn’t react like a maniac. He was certain of it.

Bodine
and the two women walked over. “I’m going to dust
for prints,” he said. “But, according to these two, there’s going to be
hundreds of samples.”

 
“Yeah, we have a lot of guests who go in and
out.” Mike studied Dianna. She looked the same as she had for the last ten
years. Like one of his closest friends.

Bodine
nodded and retrieved a kit from the car, then
stepped into the building.

They
stood silent until he returned. “I’ll be in touch.”

As
he drove away, Mike said, “I hope he catches the creeps before I do.”

Chapter
Eighteen

Mallory
waited until Mike was busy with calls to the insurance adjuster, then scribbled
a note and snuck out of the lodge. Something about the
petroglyphs
she’d seen on the rock nagged at her. She wasn’t sure what, but they kept
calling to her and she wanted to look at them again.

After
double checking to make sure that the saddle, blanket, and bridle were free of
any oddities, she caught and tacked up Zorro. Petting his nose, she told him,
“You
be
good. I don’t want to hurt my fingers again.”

She
swung up on his back and guided him toward the gate. As she passed the signs,
she glanced around, but nobody seemed to be lurking. Mike had told her not to
stray off the ranch, but she didn’t think going to the Indian artwork would be
a problem. They were on his land, not public property.

She
knew the way and made good time. The afternoon sunshine felt good on her face
and arms. The tension in her back lessened as the horse walked along in a calm,
normal manner. As she neared the site where she’d seen the Jeep, the hair on
the back of her neck stood up. Urging the horse to trot, she held on with both
hands on the saddle horn and gripped his warm sides with her knees, but he
didn’t blink an eye and they passed the spot in a heartbeat.

She
reined him up the winding dirt road.

At
the boulders overlooking the ranch, she dismounted and tied Zorro to a
palo
verde
branch. She gave his
neck a quick pat and turned to admire the view. Sitting back on her heels, she
studied the land. No one seemed to be around on the ranch, so she lifted her
face and looked into the distance. Even the brown cloud over Phoenix was less today.
The Superstitions looked like rolling green hills, thanks to the rain. From
here she could almost see to Mexico.
 
She
noticed Canyon Lake in the distance and where Tortilla Flat should be, but she
couldn’t see it from here.

Nothing
jumped out at her, so she stood and moved to the rock with the Native American
drawings. Tracing her fingers over the rough surface of the rock, she didn’t
see anything she knew. A stick figure looked like a man, and another figure
might’ve been a horse or a mule. But she wasn’t sure. Some symbols resembled
letters, but she didn’t read Apache or whatever language they were written in.

Closing
her eyes, she traced the marks again.

Her
fingers slid over rough granite, but nothing struck her.

Something
here had drawn her back, but what?
Just the mystique of the
characters?
No, it was more. She opened her eyes and stepped back.

Then
she saw it.

The
horse figure was on a trail.

Tiny
scratches—hoof prints—that led nowhere.

Taking
a closer look, she saw the horse stood upon a range of mountains that resembled
the Superstitions. Heart racing, she turned and searched the horizon directly
across from her. Yes, the exact location. Turning back, she searched the rock
for another landmark. A single mark might’ve been Weaver’s Needle. She peered
into the horizon, trying to remember if Mike had pointed that way. Yes.

One
by one, she found other landmarks.

This
boulder was an American Indian map.

It
exactly matched the map Skeeter had.

Stepping
back, she squatted down and drew the same map in the sand. The
hoofprints
were the missing clue. A short way across, they
stopped. She nearly pressed her nose into the rock, trying to see where they
led, but couldn’t find the rest. Time or the weather had worn them off. Certain
the missing mine was there, she continued to stare at the stone until her head
ached.Mixed
emotions filled her. Elation that Skeeter had
been right warred with sadness that he hadn’t succeeded. Tears filled her eyes
and fell down her cheeks and she made no move to wipe them away. She cried for
her father, for herself.

She
hadn’t vindicated him yet. She still didn’t know where the mine was.

Mike
would.

Almost
running, she untied Zorro and jumped on him.

~*~

Mallory
shifted impatiently as Mike stood in front of the boulder and studied it. “Do
you see it?”

He
nodded slowly and ran his fingers over the images much like she had. “Yes.
There’s
the Superstitions. And the ranch would be here. Yes,
this is the same map.”

 
“I knew it.” She beamed.
“Now,
if we can just find out where these tracks lead.
The mine or gold or
treasure will be there.”

 
“I know where they lead.” He turned toward her
with a wide smile. He pointed to the right side of the rock. “See there? The
part of the map was ripped off. I thought it was torn from just ordinary wear
and tear. But now I think Skeeter tore it off to hide the location.”

Mallory’s
excitement faded. “Then we’re no closer.”

 
“Oh, but we are.” He smoothed his finger over
the hoof prints. “See how they stop? That’s where the treasure is.”

Mallory
laughed. “Do you know what this means?”

 
“I sure do.” He picked her up and swung her in
a circle. “It means your old man wasn’t crazy. And if we’re really lucky,
you’ll be a wealthy woman.”

Laughter
bubbled out of her. “You mean we’ll be wealthy, don’t you?”

 
“It’s yours,” he said and set her down.

 
“No, it’s ours.” She moved to the horses. “But
it’s neither one of ours until we find it. So let’s get cracking.”

 
“We can’t.” His words stopped her in her
tracks.

 
“What?” She spun around.
“Why
not?”

 
“It’s on public land. I can’t be out there.”
He rubbed his neck. “I can’t risk it.”

All
her joy evaporated. “Oh, Mike. No.”

 
“I can’t take the chance. I already have too many
problems with the SRPL. If they caught me digging up public lands, they’d
crucify me. I just can’t do it.”

Mallory
put her hands on her hip. “Maybe not, but I can.”

 
“What are you saying?” He waved his hand
toward the horizon. “Do you have any idea how big that area is? I think I know
where the treasure is, but I can’t be sure. You can’t go traipsing around out
there without a guide. It’s too dangerous.”

 
“We can’t give up.” Her stomach knotted. There
had to be a way to find the treasure without bringing down the wrath of the
SRPL.
But how?
She paced a few feet, then turned
around and came back. “Mike, what if you drew me another map, this one with the
missing edge? I can go alone. I’m used to be being in the desert. If the
environmentalists see me, I can pretend to be just a person walking in the
desert.”

 
“It’s not safe.” He crossed his arms.

 
“This is the best we’ve got. I won’t take
chances.
Promise.”
Although her nerves were jumping
under her skin, she smiled at him. “I can do this.”

 
“I don’t like it.” He jutted out his jaw.

 
“Where do you think it is?
Near
Goldfield or Tortilla Flat?
If it’s close to one of the towns, you could
go there and wait for me. That way you wouldn’t be so far away.”

He
considered her. She waited for him to think about it. Finally he said, “I guess
it’s worth a try.”

~*~

Mallory
glanced at Mike. His jaw was set and he stared at the road, gripping the
steering wheel with both hands. She knew he hated the idea of her going into
the desert alone. But she’d prepared well, and she’d been on dozens of trips in
the Nevada wilderness with small groups. On those trips, she’d been in charge
and she knew how to think ahead. She leaned forward and checked her backpack
again.
Four liters of water, high-protein snack bars, a
two-way radio, her flashlight.
A small shovel.
A thin, hundred foot rope and a small first-aid kit.
Also, her jacket and a light blanket.

 
“Let’s go over this again. I’ll drop you off
by the road and drive on to Goldfield. I’ll wait there until six o’clock. If I
haven’t heard from you by then, I’m coming to look for you.” Mike pierced her
with his gaze. “What time does your watch say?”

 
“Two o’clock on the dot.”

He
set his. “Okay. Mallory, don’t do anything foolish.”

 
“I won’t,” she promised. “I don’t want to get
hurt.”

Drawing
near the drop-off spot, he pulled to the side of the road and parked. He leaned
over as if to kiss her, then pulled back. “Screw it. There’s no way in hell I’m
letting you go

alone
.”

Mallory
didn’t want him to get in trouble with the Salt River people, but her heart
swelled. “Mike, I don—”

 
“I’m going. That’s final.” He pulled off the
road into a clump of
palo
verde
trees. “No more talk. If we’re going to get there in daylight, we’ve got to
move
quick
.”

She
jumped out and locked the door. “Lead the way.”

He
looked around. “There’s Weaver’s Needle. I think it’s there.”

~*~

An
hour later, they stood at the foot of Weaver’s Needle. Mallory looked up at the
craggy cliffs and drew a deep breath. “Where do you think the mine or gold is?”

 
“I don’t know.” Mike took the map he’d drawn
for her out of his hip pocket and spread it out on the ground. He pointed. “The
ranch is there. We’re here. Remember how the hoof prints just stopped? I think
they were here.” With his index finger on the spot, he stood and looked around.

Mallory
followed the direction of his eyes, but nothing stood out.

 
“There.” He pointed into the distance. “I
think I see it.”

She
didn’t see anything but more sand and cactus.
“Where?”

He
knelt down and laid the map on the ground and began counting the hoof prints.
“One, two, three, four,
five
. . .”

 
“What are you doing?” Had he lost it?

 
“I think each one of these marks signifies a
certain length. A foot, maybe.” He stood and took a long step.
“No, not far enough.”

 
“What about a furlong? That’s horsey. And it’s
what, and eighth of a mile?”

He
shook his head. “I don’t think Apaches knew that term.”

 
“What about a horse length? Is there an
average?”

 
“I don’t know.” He looked at the ground. “But
I would guess around six feet. Yeah, that fits.” He began to walk, studying the
ground as he went.

Mallory
followed.

He
stopped abruptly. “It should be here.”

Mallory
bumped her nose into his back. “
Ow
.”

He
looked over his shoulder. “Sorry.”

 
“What do you see?” She moved to his shoulder.

 
“Nothing.”

She
fought back her disappointment. It wasn’t as if she expected there to be a big
red X marking the location. Depending on how long ago the gold had been buried,
all the landmarks could be different. “Where’s the ranch from here?” she asked.

 
“There.” He pointed directly in front of them.
You can just see it from here. You’d have to be on top of Weaver’s Needle to
really get a good look.”

She
grabbed his arm. “Mike, that’s it. Don’t you see? The ranch is it. I mean the X
is.”

He
drew his brows together. “I don’t understand.”

 
“My half of the map had an X where the ranch
is located. That’s where the gold is.” She clapped her hands. “Yes. I get it
now. The hoof prints led us here to this spot and then stopped. You can see the
ranch from here. The X on the map marks the ranch.”

 
“There’s no mine there,” he said.

 
“Are you positive?” She was already turning
away. “Wendell Wallace thought there was. So did my father.”

“But
what they both missed was the location,” he said.

 
“Yes, but we have the answer.” She grinned at
him.

 
“What?” He gaped at her.

 
“The
petroglyphs
.
We stopped too soon. When we decipher the rest of them, we’ll find the
treasure. We figured out this much so we’re on the right track. Now we need to
go back and decode the rest.”

~*~

 
Mallory sketched the last symbol as night
fell.

 
“You done?”
Mike
asked.

She
folded the paper and slipped it into her jacket.
“Yeah.”

 
“Let’s go in and eat. We can look at your
drawings there.” He moved toward the horses. After mounting, she let him lead
the way. Zorro picked his way carefully through the

dark
and they reached the road in record time.

Something
glittered near the offensive signs.

Mike
apparently didn’t notice and continued to ride.

 
“Wait,” she whispered. A shadow moved. “Look.”

He
slowed and twisted around in his saddle. “What?”

 
“There’s something there by the gate.” She
kept her voice low. “See it?”

He
scanned the dark, and shrugged.
“Just the signs.”

She
didn’t think so, but he seemed so unconcerned that she cued Zorro forward. The
horses didn’t seem alarmed, so whispering that it was nothing but her
overactive imagination, she tried to ignore the way her skin tingled and her
scalp tightened. Maybe it was just a rabbit.
Or a
javelina
.
No, the horses would notice. Something was
there in the dark. She was sure of it.