Whispers in the Dark (18 page)

My back foot rasped against the wood as I slid it forward. When I had it firmly planted in front of me, I moved my other foot. Three more steps and I felt my foot slide over the end of the board so my toes touched rocky ground. I edged forward, resisting the urge to hurry—I didn’t want to knock the board out of place by jumping off it.

A fine layer of grit crunched under my sandals as I stepped onto the boulder. I held my hands out in front of me, and finally my fingers touched the rock wall. I blew out a breath as my heart pounded. This evening was certainly having its ups and downs.

As my nerves settled, I realized I could hear voices. A man’s voice, I thought, and then—another man? I couldn’t catch the words, but one voice sounded vaguely familiar. Not Jerry and Maureen, then, but maybe Jerry here with someone else?

I hesitated again, afraid to interrupt when I didn’t know what was happening. But I still needed to confirm that Jerry was here and nothing was wrong. I’d come too far to turn back now. It would be easy enough to hide in the dark, so I wouldn’t let them see me until I knew for sure who it was.

I’d never been inside these ruins, but I knew Falling House had been an apartment building with many rooms. The men must not be in the first room, or I’d be able to hear them better. I brushed my hand lightly along the wall.

I remembered how low the doorways were and dropped my hand lower on the wall. When I found empty space, I crouched at the doorway, peeked through, and saw absolutely nothing.

I slipped into the room, probing with each foot so I didn’t kick fallen blocks. The ruins had no roof, and the walls had crumbled in various states of decay. If someone shone a light from another room, they might be able to see me. But the night stayed black.

I found another opening and gently felt to make sure it was a doorway and not just a spot where the wall had crumbled. When I was sure, I crouched and shuffled through, wishing again I had jeans, so I could kneel. Light flashed and I jerked back. Fortunately the wind covered my quick intake of breath. The light came from the room next to this one. Someone had a penlight, and as they moved slightly, it spilled through a wide crack between the two rooms.

I edged closer, confident that if I stayed to the side they wouldn’t be able to see me even if they turned the light in my direction. When I got close enough I peered through the crack.

The penlight shone at the ground, but the light spilled enough to show the bodies of two men hovering over it. No, three men—one crouched and holding the light, one leaning against the wall, and one standing, speaking and gesturing with his hands. Even in the dark I recognized his voice and the way he moved.

Not Jerry. Sean.

“Can we go now?” Sean said. “I’ve got business to finish.”

The man by the wall said, “I know, we were late, you’ve told us. It’s not easy crossing the desert and then finding your hiding spot, and we lost that stupid map stumbling around in the dark the other night. If you want my opinion, you’re trying to be too clever. You get a kick out of meeting here because it’s weird. We’d be better off at some random spot in the middle of nowhere, or even in a crowded city where no one would pay attention to strangers. You’re not impressing anyone.”

“All right, all right,” Sean said. “Let’s not argue. You’re here, you got the money, now let’s go.”

The crouching man said, “Fine. This run has taken far too long.”

I stretched up enough to see that his penlight was shining down into a briefcase filled with stacks of cash. If anyone had looked my way then, they probably would have seen the whites of my eyes as I stared. It was like flipping through TV channels and coming across an old gangster film right in the middle. My mind scrambled to make sense of it all.

“I had to make sure the stuff was good,” Sean said. “Last time your boss tried to cheat me.”

“Whatever.” The crouching man stood. “Let’s get out of here. Next time keep it simple. No games, or we’re through.”

He turned and the light turned with him. I jerked back, tremors skittering over my skin. I still wasn’t sure what I’d stumbled across, but I knew I shouldn’t let them find me here.

No way could I get back through the first room and out of sight in time. Already I could hear them muttering in the next room, slowed only by the challenge of getting three people through safely with one small light.

My instincts screamed danger, and this time I listened. I dropped to the ground in the corner and curled in a ball, trying to hide my bare arms and legs under my body. I shook my head so my hair fell over my face and neck and I squeezed my eyes shut tight, as if that would matter with my face buried. At least my dress was black and my hair dark brown.

Pebbles pressed into my bare skin, and the damp earth felt cold and sticky. A fallen block jabbed my rib cage. I tried not to breathe as faint footsteps and the rustle of clothes moved past me. I thought I heard a tap of footsteps on wood. A scraping sound. Then nothing but silence.

I started to breathe again, slow, controlled breaths that still sounded too loud to my ears.

I couldn’t bring myself to look up. I had this horrible feeling that somebody was standing over me, waiting. Logically I knew that if someone had spotted me, hiding wouldn’t make him go away now, but still I had to force myself to lift my head and open my eyes.

I saw only darkness.

I sighed, and the trembling started. I still hadn’t quite processed what was happening, but whatever those men were up to, they wanted to keep it a secret. I huddled, hugging my legs, and tried to put the pieces together. Sean was trading money for something else. I remembered the plane flying over and the news report of a possible drug drop. Could I really have stumbled into that? And Sean was involved up to his eyeballs.

I remembered his questions about where I’d be working and his warnings about staying away from the canyon at night. Now I knew why he hadn’t come back to me in an hour. The whole plan had been to get me away from the canyon that evening. He knew I was keeping an eye on things, and he wanted to get me out of the way. The old saying was true—just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean someone isn’t out to get you.

What an idiot I’d been not to see it sooner. Though really, who would expect to get drawn into such a thing? Here, of all places? Maybe I had decided that Sean was odd, but a drug runner? That hadn’t occurred to me. Maybe because I was too wrapped up in myself to guess that his manipulations really weren’t about me at all. Or maybe just because “Things like that don’t happen to people like me.”

Well, it had happened now, and I had to get out of there and notify the police. I was still trembling, but I forced myself to move. I had to get to the visitors center and hope Danesh hadn’t left yet. If he had, I needed to get into the building so I could use the phone—wait, was the key in my backpack? Damn. I might have to drive somewhere where I could get cell reception.

I made my way through the next room and outside. It was still too dark to see, so I crawled forward and felt with my hands for the board.

It was gone.

Chapter 20

Of course the board was gone. They wouldn’t leave it behind. They should have taken it with them when they went inside the ruins, so no passersby would notice it, but they’d sounded impatient, and of course they hadn’t been expecting passersby at night in the rain.

A large raindrop hit the tip of my nose. I hadn’t been paying attention to the slight drizzle, but now my predicament sank in. I was stuck on this boulder in the dark, wearing a dress and sandals, with cold wind blowing and rain falling. I might survive the night like this, but I certainly wouldn’t enjoy it.

“Idiot,” I muttered. “When your instincts say get help, listen!” I’d taken independence and overcoming fear a step too far. More like five steps too far—five steps across that board.

I huddled back near the wall of the ruin. The wind gusted, numbing my skin. I could yell for help, but who would hear? I was a quarter-mile from the visitors center and even farther from the campground, and people wouldn’t be hanging around outside on a night like this. I might even call back Sean and his buddies. I guessed they were headed out of the park already, but my guesses so far had not been too accurate.

I could wait a while to make sure they were gone and see if the rain stopped. But the rain could just as easily get worse, and the temperature would keep dropping. And the more time I took to notify the police, the harder it would be for them to track down the criminals.

I figured I had two choices. Plan to spend the night or get out of there on my own.

Clouds scudded across the sky, and a little moonlight slipped through. I looked at the gap between the boulder and the rim and immediately discarded any idea of jumping. In daylight, in running shoes, with enough room for a running start, I might make it. But right now any attempt would lead to disaster.

I peered into the crevasse, trying to judge how deep it was and how rough the sides were. I’d seen it earlier, of course, but I had only been admiring the dramatic impact, not studying it with an eye to rock climbing.

I thought the crevasse was about fifteen feet deep. At least that was better than the other side of the boulder, where if I slipped, I’d keep falling down the whole slope into the canyon. And the crevasse narrowed at the bottom, so I might be able to reach across and brace myself on the other wall once I got partway down.

I remembered the way the Ancestral Pueblo People had often cut notches into the rock to use like ladders. They had never looked like great ladders to me, especially after seven hundred years of erosion, but they might help. That is, if the Ancient Ones had done that here instead of just using wooden ladders, and if I could find the notches.

I pushed damp hair out of my face and peered into the crevasse. In the dim light, I couldn’t make out anything definite. And the light might disappear altogether if I didn’t hurry. I reached my hand down and felt around for a notch or other foothold. I slid my hand over the rock and finally found a slight scooped-out area. I pressed my hand into the depression. I couldn’t imagine standing with my weight on that, but maybe it was better than nothing.

I sat on the edge of the boulder and felt the cold rock gritty against the backs of my calves. Maybe bare feet would give me a slightly better grip than floppy sandals. I’d want my sandals once I got down, though, so I stuck them in the front of my dress. Ick. Nothing like cold, damp, mud in your cleavage.

I rolled onto my stomach and forearms, dangling my legs. My feet must be already hanging below the notch I’d felt, but hopefully it indicated a line of notches all the way down. I slid my bare feet over the damp, slippery rock.

My heart thudded and my arms strained to hold me. The dark maw of the crevasse seemed determined to suck me down. What was I doing? Was I crazy?

Finally I felt something, a rough bump on the rock. I squeezed the front of my right foot onto it and tried to grip with my toes.

I eased myself down lower, so I was chin level with the top of the boulder, still gripping with my hands and putting weight on my forearms. I searched with my other foot.

Nothing. I should pull myself back up.

I wasn’t sure I could.

My left arm started to slide toward the edge of the boulder. I whimpered and gripped harder, trying to hold on even with my chin.

My left foot wasn’t finding a single hold. Finally, in desperation, I jammed it onto the same bump where I had my right foot. That supported my weight just enough so I stopped sliding.

I tried to take a deep breath, but the boulder pressed into my chest and chin. I doubted I could get back up again without decent footholds. I had to keep going down. If the crevasse was fifteen feet deep, and I was five feet tall, I only had... a ten-foot drop. What was I thinking? I should’ve stayed on the boulder and screamed. Waited for morning if I had to. Forget independence, playing the damsel in distress was starting to sound good.

Too late now. Since my left foot hadn’t found a hold, maybe I could leave it on the bump and search more to the right with my right foot. I slowly lowered my right foot, feeling with my toes. I found another notch, but with such a shallow slope that I didn’t see how it could take my full body weight.

I could do this. I could.

My chin slipped off the edge of the boulder. I tried to dig in my fingertips, but with just a little dirt over solid rock, I couldn’t get a grip. My arms started to slide. I would have to try the foothold because I was running out of options.

I jammed my foot in so hard my toes hurt. My other foot was starting to cramp from gripping its little shelf. I let my forearms slide off the top of the boulder and turned my hands to grip the edge of the rock with them.

I’d never felt heavier, never felt gravity so strongly, but for the moment I held on. I moved my left foot down and tried to feel around.

My hands slid toward the edge of the boulder.

I fumbled frantically with my left foot. And then I felt myself falling.

As I peeled away from the cliff, I kicked my left foot back. It hit the wall on the opposite side of the crevasse with a thud that shot pain through my heel and shook my whole body. I pressed my foot hard against that wall and pushed my right foot and hands against the wall in front of me. The good news was, I wasn’t dead yet. And I was closer to the ground, though not close enough to jump safely. I was in a deep lunge, my hands trying to cling to smooth, slick rock.