The Adam Enigma (22 page)

April 2, 2016
Taos, New Mexico

N
ew Mexico's highest mountain, Wheeler Peak, rose majestic and snow-covered under bright blue skies and the Wheeler Peak Wilderness Area spread out before Ramsey like a dark green blanket as he found himself once again at the wheel of Myriam's car. Much had changed in less than twenty-four hours. In the backseat Pete, no longer energized by his discoveries, was curled up like a baby, snoring away. Periodically, as Ramsey remembered he was prone to do, he let out a strange growl.

Myriam looked at Ramsey questioningly. “Is he really sleeping?”

“Yep. He's always done that, at least since I've known him. He's like a dog chasing cats in his sleep.”

Ramsey zeroed in on the road ahead. He was satisfied to wait until Myriam was ready to tell him what was going on with Beecher. It gave him time to think about the revelation of Adam's connection to the healing power of the Milagro Shrine. It raised more questions than it answered. He knew there was a vast literature about energetic healing powers, including techniques like shamanistic healing, chakra balancing, and Reiki. But these were direct hands-on procedures. Although he'd read about some healers who seemed to have an impact on electromagnetic fields, Adam was different. He somehow created a remarkably sustained geo-physical, bioelectrical, and electromagnetic field coherence that could affect many people over a broad area. Ramsey wondered too if the same phenomenon was present at
other healing sites. Would the results be the same if Adam's sister Carlotta had lived along the Oregon coast, even though that region has a completely different geological substrate and processes? Would a healing shrine have emerged?

Pete had showed Ramsey how the field coherence over the Milagro Shrine gradually intensified and expanded. Was that the result of the interaction of the healed people? So that they too were sort of acting like a conduit to . . . Here Ramsey's thoughts faltered.
To what?
he wondered.

From the accounts reported on the New Gnostic website, people from all walks of life were affected by the shrine. Then it occurred to him that Adam wasn't actually mentioned in any of the reported healings.

More questions arose, flying through his mind thick as a hail storm and almost as painful, as he realized he had no answers to them: Have there been people throughout history who have had Adam's kind of superpower? How many? Christ? Buddha? St. Francis? Were their powers derived from where they physically lived, as he had once theorized? Or were these spiritual leaders doing something different? Something different than the way normal people lived their lives? Or did something unique happen to them that gave them their powers?

Ramsey locked down his thoughts. He had to stop the flood of questions before they overwhelmed him. More than anything he wished he could talk with Adam. For a moment he even imagined the kind of experiments he would like to perform on the healer—a thought he quickly dismissed as unethical. He recalled the strange text message from last night: “Adam awaits you.” At first he thought maybe Pete was playing a joke on him, but his old friend insisted he wasn't. It was a nuisance and most likely some sick kind of joke, yet he found himself hoping it was somehow true.

He turned to Myriam.

She must have read the frustration and anger on his face because she said, “I didn't know anything about what Hiram and that bastard Haas were up to, and they were playing me and you. They used me.” Anger turned her fine-boned features into a scary mask. “Hiram used me!” She looked at Ramsey. “They used both of us.”

Understanding passed through Ramsey. “They tricked you into hiring me.”

She nodded. “Hiram is a member of a group of secret Christian fanatics, known as the Brothers of the Lord, led by the televangelist Brother Paul. At first they were excited about the shrine, and then when it was discovered that Adam was the source of the shrine's healing power, they created a plan to kill him.”

Ramsey was incredulous. “You're joking!”

“That's what I thought, but it's true. You were part of the plan to have Pete locate Adam through the advanced GIS technology of his.”

“It worked; but did he say why they didn't just go to Pete directly?”

“Hiram didn't say and I didn't ask.” She looked at the curled up geophysical genius on the backseat. “Maybe they couldn't trust him, or they figured they couldn't make him do it.”

Ramsey started to swear and Myriam cut him off.

“They must've found out about your obsession with sacred places and your friendship with Pete.” She looked back at him still curled up. “And the connection between the three of us.”

Ramsey took a deep breath, thinking of the events that occurred since he stepped foot on the grounds of the shrine. “Christ, that means Malcolm Grossinger, Adam's college friend, and maybe even Professor Orensen were involved in the ruse.” He pounded the car's steering wheel so hard, Pete snorted and half woke up, then curled into a tighter ball and fell back to sleep. “This is unbelievable,” Ramsey swore. “I stupidly thought my call to investigate the power of the shrine might be some sort of divine providence.”

Myriam reached over and touched Ramsey's arm. “I'm not so sure it might not be true. We know something very few people know—the miraculous healing power of Adam Gwillt. It's almost as if the fate of this incredible being has been put in our hands.”

The gentle touch relaxed Ramsey and he throttled back his anger.

She took in a deep breath. “Regarding the shrine. I'm just an administrator and promoter.” Her frown deepened. “And I haven't been a very good one lately, have I?”

Ramsey frowned too. “You're better than you think. I always blamed you for not supporting me totally after Peru, but honestly, it
was my own shit there. I wasn't ready for it and . . . I should've told you my whole plan.”

In response Myriam smiled wanly. “You were always unstoppable. It's what made you a good investigator . . . One of the best I had the opportunity to work with.” Her tone shifted, “I'm so sorry I got you involved.”

Ramsey thought for a moment. “Interestingly there's nothing to be sorry about. It's not as if anything bad happened to me or is going to.” He shrugged. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“This may sound strange, but after I clean up, then I'm running over to the shrine to pray. And you?”

“I need a car.”

Myriam looked at Pete who was now stretching. “What about Pete's?”

“There are some things I need to do alone.”

“Hiram keeps a utility truck in my shed. Will that do?”

April 2, 2016
Taos, New Mexico

T
he morning was crisp and clear. Melting snow filled in the spaces around the trees and left the trail along the chalet's ski runs muddy. Hiram Beecher slipped on a wet slab of rock, banging his shoulder against a piñon pine. He righted himself and continued hiking upwards, barely noticing the tear in his jacket. Overhead the ski lift swayed in the morning breeze. It would have been easier to use the lift but the walk was therapeutic.
Testing my knee
, he told himself. To his surprise he felt remarkably pain-free, at least physically. His heart, on the other hand, felt ripped in two.

Myriam had left that morning, her face set in a grimace of pain, frustration, and anger. All of it directed at him. He accepted it as the price he had to pay for keeping secrets from her.

He reached the top of the hill. The valley spread out in front of him, peaceful and quiet. As far as the world knew, nothing unusual had happened in northern New Mexico's wilderness yesterday. That's how Beecher was coming to think about it. On the other hand, he was relieved by finally having told Myriam the truth about everything. Now he had to live with the consequences. So it was with a heavy heart that he pulled out his phone and pushed the contact entry for Brother Paul. There was only a recording. He waited for the tone and left a message. “This is Hiram Beecher. I'm done. Don't contact me again.” Beecher pushed the end call button. He could've said more—a lot more. About how Brother Paul used him and was as dishonest as
the day was long, and that if the son of a bitch ever tried contacting him again, he'd tear his limbs off one by one. But confessing everything to Myriam had had a psychological cathartic effect, like a ritual cleansing of the soul and spirit. He had finally freed himself of the Brothers of the Lord.

As for the South Africans, his instincts told him that as long as he kept his mouth shut they would leave him alone. He was also sure their pursuit of Adam was over. Everyone was back to square one. And their relationship with Brother Paul—that was no longer any of his business.

The crunch of snow underfoot riveted Beecher's attention back down the trail. A shadow moved through the trees. Pulling his handgun from his belt, Beecher thought ruefully,
Perhaps I was wrong about the South Africans
. Then he heard the high-pitched voice of Conklin.

“Wait up,” the man wheezed in the high cold mountain air.

Once again questions about Conklin's motivation for helping him shot through him.
Is he an ally or enemy?

April 2, 2016
Rio Chama, New Mexico

H
olman Elementary School was located on Highway 518 about halfway between Moro and Rio Chama. Carlotta agreed to meet Ramsey at Eagle County Park during her afternoon break from teaching. The park was hardly more than a picnic area alongside the Moro reservoir. Its low-lying cottonwoods had already finished blooming. Ramsey sat at one of the picnic benches, pulled out his tablet, and began responding to some pressing business matters. It felt good to be engaged in some normal human geographical problems for a change. After a while he looked up with a wide smile at the large 2001 Dodge Ram pickup truck he had just parked in the lot. Ramsey had not driven a stick shift like this since his graduate field days at UCLA, when he drove across the Sonoran desert hunting down Native American sacred sites. It brought back memories of carefree days filled with love for Paige. It had been one of the best times of his life—a life, he realized with a dull pang of regret—that was now long gone.

After the drive to Rio Chama, it had been decided that rather than dropping Pete off at the Café Rio first. They would go to Myriam's home, grab the truck, and then Ramsey would deliver Pete to the Café. Ramsey had sensed that Pete had something to do that didn't involve Myriam.

Twice on the way into town Ramsey stalled the truck at stop signs.

“Sure you can drive this beast, old man?” Pete laughed.

“It's because I am an old man that I can. So what's happening in Rio Chama?”

“Rosa Cisneros.”

Ramsey arched his eyebrows.

“When you all thought I was sleeping, I texted her. She says it's not her fault. The Mexicans and all that.”

“And you believe her?” Ramsey asked, deliberately allowing skepticism in his tone.

Pete smiled. “I gave up the booze and the drugs. I'm not giving up on women.”

Ramsey smiled too. “Sound wisdom.”

When they drove up to the Café, Rosa was outside waiting.

“Wish me luck.”

“Whenever did you need luck with the ladies, hotshot?”

Pete jumped out and came around to the driver's window. “Give me a buzz when you're ready to head back to Taos. I'll pick you up at Myriam's.”

Ramsey watched Pete skip his way to Rosa. He could see their embrace represented much more than a business relationship.

“I'll be damned,” Ramsey muttered.

He should've told me
, Ramsey mused, wondering why Pete had kept his relationship with Rosa a secret. The sound of another vehicle pulling into the park's gravel parking lot told him that Carlotta had arrived.

Ramsey studied the schoolteacher as she walked from her car to the table. Backlit by the bright New Mexico sun, she reminded Ramsey of the Adam apparition.

She called out to him, “You have news of Adam. Good news you said.”

“He's alive,” said Ramsey.

Her only show of emotion was a hesitation in her step, then she walked more swiftly, sitting beside him in a single fluid motion. She cleared her throat. “I always knew it, somehow I could feel him. So where is he?”

“Some smart people with sophisticated equipment have been tracking him since the day he disappeared. Moving around from place to place, to Taos, the western side of the forest, finally into the wilderness near an Anasazi ruin.”

“And now?”

“Yesterday the smart people came to believe that he's gone . . . disappeared, not dead.”

“I knew that too. And don't talk to me like I'm a fool.”

“Of course, sorry. Could he be doing this on his own? Moving around I mean?”

“No chance.”

“Then who do you think is helping him?”

Carlotta shook her head. “I wish I knew.”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

Her brow furrowed and her eyebrows arched. “Why your sudden interest in Adam? Before it was the shrine.”

“We . . . I know now that he's the source of the shrine's healing power.”

Carlotta nodded. “Father Michael told me a year ago. He also said not to mention it to anyone, but that soon many people would know. Might even want to kill him.” Dark eyes bored into him and he noticed for the first time she had not removed her hand from the pocket of her blue windbreaker. Stenciled in gold lettering across the left breast was ‘Moro High School Rifle Team'.

“Are you one of those?” she asked, her voice dead flat.

Flustered, Ramsey blurted out, “God no!” He recovered his poise and continued, “Did you ever talk with Adam about this threat?

“What do you think?”

“And?”

“I'm still uncertain about you. And you haven't talked to Father Michael like I told you to.”

Ramsey felt embarrassed.

“I had dinner with Father Michael last night,” she continued. “I believe if you go to the shrine and ask around you will find him.”

Carlotta reached across the table with her free hand and took one of his hands in hers. ”Trust your intuition more, rationality less.
Thanks for the good news. The third-graders are waiting for a lesson on the orbits of the moon and planets.”

As she walked off Ramsey called after her, “If I hear anything, I'll let you know.”

Carlotta never stopped walking. Ramsey got up and followed her. “Was all that sorrow over Adam an act?”

Carlotta never looked back. She got into her car and drove away, leaving Ramsey pondering just whose side was anyone on.