Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 02 - Ghostly Hijinks (18 page)

As it turned out, we didn’t have to go out to Francine’s house since she was behind the counter when we walked in. We greeted her with a smile, and I asked, “Where is Lois?”

“Using the bathroom. What’s up?”

“Oh, do I look like something is up?”

“Seems to be your MO, so why not just spill it? I have things to attend to today out at the mining camp.”

“Mining camp?”

“Yes, tourists like to pitch tents a few miles out of town during the festival. It’s a half-mile from the Lemon Pine Mine.”

My face lit up. “Really? We’re planning to head out to the mine later for a tour. When our friend sleeps it off. She did a little too much celebrating last night.”

“I think I know the one you’re talking about. Just whatever you do, please stay with the tour group. If you get lost in those mining shafts, we’ll probably never see you again.”

Was that actually genuine concern like it sounded, or was that some kind of ploy to keep us from investigating? “I’ll take that under consideration.”

“She means we won’t,” Eleanor said. “What we really wanted to know was about Peyton Leister’s grave. Was he ever buried in that cemetery?”

I examined Francine’s face intently. “Probably not, but I can’t be sure since that was way before my time, you understand.”

“Point taken, but someone must have thought his grave was worthy enough to be dug up, but the sheriff wasn’t even concerned.”

“It’s commonplace around here during the festival.”

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be if you quit telling folks that story about Peyton.”

“It’s much too late for that now. Tourists really love that story and it makes for a much better festival. I can’t even image not mentioning it.”

“It’s your business, of course, but I hope you realize that you’re responsible for at least one family’s death, the Thompsons. Anyone who follows that story and goes out on their own looking for that treasure is a direct connection to you, Francine.”

“I’d hate to have that on my conscience,” Eleanor added.

“I guess this is where we differ, or should just agree to disagree. I’m in no way responsible for anyone going off half-cocked and looking for the legendary treasure.”

I smiled stiffly and had to walk away from her now, before I said something really bad, like she was guilty of being indirectly responsible for that first family’s deaths. If only I were able to learn the details of their deaths. Finding their bodies in the desert just seemed too convenient.

Once we were back outside, Eleanor asked, “What now?”

“We’re going to ask a few more questions, like at that bed and breakfast.”

When we made our way across the street and into the brick building that housed Jo Ellen’s Bed and Breakfast, it was bustling with activity. The main desk had a woman around our age sitting in an office chair and I guessed she was checking guests in from the way she was passing forms for them to fill out and handing each a key with a kind smile.

I stared around at the wallpaper-covered walls that were beige with green stripes. That took me back to my great-grandmother’s house, which was similarly decorated. Guests were milling around and I asked a man near us what they were waiting for.

“We’re going out to the Lemon Pine Mine today. Jo Ellen has set us up with a special tour, promising to give a few tips about the history of Leister’s gold. It’s said that it’s only a legend back in Reno, but I can see it’s alive and well here in Silver. It’s why we made the trip here during the festival,” he whispered. “I’ve even heard they’ll allow us to do a little digging in the mine.”

I smiled. “Oh, really? I didn’t know that. When does it start?”

“Already was supposed to have started, but I guess Jo Ellen’s still too busy checking in the guests. We’re the only ones allowed on the tour, you know. I booked my room two years ago.”

“M-Me too,” I said with a shrug.

Jo Ellen stood up and stretched. “Okay, folks, I suppose we should get going now. I’ll check the rest of you in when we get back.”

“Isn’t it about lunch now?” a woman said, clutching her belly.

“Sure is, but we’ve packed picnic baskets full of goodies and will be eating it just as soon as we get there. Now remember, I expect each and every one of you to stay tight-lipped about my little tour from the rest of the tourists here in town. The man running the tour at the mine has given us permission to go deeper into the mine, but that doesn’t mean that it’s completely safe. Wendy is handing out waivers that you’ll all need to sign before we leave.”

We quickly signed our waivers and my heart beat hard now. I just hoped no one asked our names or discovered that we didn’t fit in with this group. Eleanor was quite the actress, but even she was playing low key now.

Once everyone had signed the paperwork, we were led outside where a bus awaited us. As we boarded, I notice the last three seats were missing and supplies were stored back there, like hand-held pickaxes. All I could think about was just how dangerous that might be. Anyone could harm themselves with them, and if need be, I’d voice my opinion once I figured out what they were really up to.

Once everyone boarded, the bus moved out and we headed out of town, the group talking excitedly. “If I find the gold bars, I’m going to move to Paris, France,” one vivacious young lady said.

Snickers were heard, and the man ahead of us said, “Paris, France? What on earth for?”

“Because I’m sick of the ole U-S-of-A is why. I crave culture and a French boyfriend.”

“You think that now, but you can’t even speak French, can you?”

“Pierre will teach me.”

“Who is Pierre?”

“The French boyfriend that I’ll find, duh,” the young lady went on to say.

“You won’t find any gold, Marsha, because I’m going to find it all and I’m not sharing with anyone,” a young man said.

“Carson, you’re really out of your mind if you think that.”

“How about you white folks just take it down a notch,” another woman said. “That gold has Unique’s name all over it. Isn’t that right, Ramone?” she asked the man accompanying her.

“That’s right, baby.”

“Calm down, folks,” Jo Ellen said. “We’re not going to find Leister’s gold in the mine.”

“Well, where are we gonna find it, then?” Marsha asked, leaning forward in her seat. “You said on your brochure that—”

“I never said you’d find Leister’s gold, just that I’d take you in the mine where you might find a few gold nuggets, is all.”

“We’ll explain everything to you once we’re in the mine,” a woman sitting next to Jo Ellen said.

“Wendy is right. Just be patient until then.”

Fifteen minutes later, the bus rumbled up a drive that had a sign in big, white letters that read, Lemon Pine Mine. The bus parked and we unloaded, and for once, the group was quiet as church mice.

Jo Ellen gathered everyone together as an old, slender man strode forward. “Howdy, folks. My names Big Jake and I’ll be your tour guide today.”

Great, another man with a nickname. But I listened intently as he told us his rules. “Rule number one: stay with the group. Rule number two: don’t dig anywhere unless we tell you it’s okay unless you want to fill the mine shafts with water and drown everyone.”

“Water?” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s almost happened a few times now. There’s an underground spring that was found to run along the side of the north mineshaft, and in 1910 it was tapped into, sorta the reason we found it in the first place. Anyway, it flooded the mineshaft and twenty men drowned. The mine had to be pumped out and that section of the shaft is now off limits. As a safeguard, we don’t ever allow anyone too close to the north shaft. They abandoned that section of the mine after the accident.”

“So there might just be gold over there, then?” Unique asked.

“That’s not what I said. I said it’s not safe over there,” Big Jake said with a stern look. “Let’s just say this, when the spring was tapped into, the water rushed in so fast that the miners never stood a chance.”

Unique gulped and clammed up finally, as we were led inside. The main entrance was smaller than I expected and some of the taller ones had to stoop down to get in, but once we were inside, the main area was more open. “This area was opened more for tours. As you can see, there are timbers on the walls and ceilings of the mines to keep the soft dirt from caving in. It’s constantly building pressure and new timbers were also added to the existing ones to keep the mine from collapsing. All the timbers above your heads are original and have done quite a good job of holding up the ceiling of the mine. You’ll find them all along the shafts. I’d be careful and not run into any of the timbers on the side. I can’t assure just how safe it will remain.”

“What’s that pipe near the ceiling?” Marsha asked.

“That’s for ventilation. Otherwise, it can get a might dusty down here.” He went on to explain, “The shaft we’ll be going in is uncharted for anyone other than Jo Ellen’s guests, so consider yourselves fortunate.”

I raised my hand, and when he pointed to me, I asked, “Has anyone ever ventured into the shafts without you knowing about it?”

“We keep a pretty good watch on our tour groups here.”

“I’m sure you do, but what about after hours?”

“Never has happened that I know of. Only a fool would attempt such a thing at night. The mineshafts go on for miles and even I can get a little confused at times. That’s why even I only go in only so deep.”

I had a few more questions, but didn’t want to voice them. I’d wait until the tour was over before I questioned Big Jake further. Wendy brought in the picnic baskets.  We munched on sandwiches and were each given a bottle of water as we listened to Jo Ellen talk about Peyton Leister.

“Silver was founded in 1850 and, once gold was found, the town quickly was built as folks came to town once they got word.”

“Is it true that there was a Winfield Hotel here once that burned to the ground, the same site where the Goldberg Hotel & Saloon now is?” I asked.

Jo Ellen’s brow furrowed. “And who told you about that? It’s not common knowledge.”

We heard it at the Willington General Store.”

“Did Glenda also tell you that it was a mining dispute and that arson was suspected? That the ground where the Goldberg sits now is cursed, some say, since they never even bothered looking for the bodies. Jessup Goldberg was one greedy man. It’s no wonder he met an untimely end.”

“So he knew about it and didn’t care? Just built overtop of them?”

“Exactly what I’m saying. Dying from pneumonia was too good for the likes of him. They say he kept a woman locked up, a prostitute that he’d gotten pregnant. Rumor was that he killed her and the baby.”

“I’ve heard that, too, but is there any truth to it?”

“You sure have a lot of questions.” Jo Ellen said. “What are you, some kind of historian?”

“I consider myself a history buff, but just as a hobby.”

“I see. Well, back to Peyton Leister. Nobody knows for sure what year he came to Silver, but he came in like a hotshot. He didn’t reside with the other miners in tent city. He had himself a small cabin on the other side of town, far from the rest of the miners. Nobody even knows where he found his gold and he wasn’t talking. What he did best was brag, but that didn’t help him a bit when he found a huge amount of gold that nobody would let him turn in.”

“That seems strange.”

“Folks can go against you in a heartbeat. The thing is, you couldn’t afford to make enemies back then. I suspect folks were a might jealous and wanted to know where he hid his stash. He stayed for days in that cabin of his and folks said you could see the smoke from his fire all the way into town. The sheriff went out there to check it out, but Peyton ran him off his claim. You could do that back then as long as you weren’t breaking the law.”

“After Peyton disappeared from town, folks found a kettle with gold in the bottom of it, and boards lying around in the shape of bars. They figured he had melted his gold into bars and taken it with him, right out of town, but days later when his wagon was found in the desert, the gold wasn’t anywhere to be found.”

“What about Peyton, did they him dead?”

“Not from what I heard, but I suspect he died of exposure after he was stranded when his wagon wheel had broken off. When there weren’t any deep wheel tracks in the dirt, folks assumed he didn’t have the gold with him, that he had hidden it for safekeeping until he returned. Some suspected that it was too much gold to haul off by himself and that he was off to report to the U.S. Marshal about the corruption in Silver since he wasn’t able to sell his gold.”

“That sounds like a good reason to murder a man,” I said.

“But they say his body was never found.”

“No? Then why is there a tombstone with his name on it?”

“I can’t say, ma’am. Word is that his body was never found. I suppose they must have wanted to give the man some kind of resting place.”

 “That must be it because his remains certainly aren’t at the cemetery since there were grave robbers there this morning. Aren’t you a little curious if Peyton was murdered?”

“Not really. His story has turned into a legend that sure is interesting, but today we’re not here looking for Leister’s gold. Nobody has ever turned it up in all these years, and, believe me, plenty have looked. Problem is that not many came back alive, they just left one day to look for the treasure and never came back.”

“Like the Thompsons,” I said.

“Who told you about them? That’s unfortunate, but their car broke down in the desert and they didn’t have any survival skills. If they had stayed with their car they might have survived, but their bodies were found about a mile away in the desert. It’s not very smart to go anywhere down Highway 50 without making sure that you have both food and water.”

“So you don’t suspect foul play?”

“Why would I?”

I couldn’t hold myself back now. “It’s just that I wondered if the Thompsons were searching for Leister’s gold. You know, like the family that disappeared from the Goldberg not long ago.”

“Not sure of when that might have happened.”

“Really, in a small town such as this? It seems like you’d keep up to date about a big thing like a second missing family, especially tourists.”