Whispers in the Dark (21 page)

Where were the police? What had happened back in the visitors center? Could Danesh be dead? I sobbed and buried my face in my knees. I’d only just found him. I couldn’t lose him yet.

But what could I do?

I lifted my head and took a few shuddering breaths. I couldn’t give up. I had to gain control of myself, I had to figure out what to do! I spent several torturous minutes wrestling with the panic. But this time I won.

I listened hard, hoping for a shout from a familiar voice, telling me it was safe to come out. But the only whispers came from the wind sliding past the ruined walls.

For one fleeting moment, I thought of Danesh tucking the blanket around my feet. But I didn’t have time for such thoughts and the grief they would bring. Sean knew where I had gone.

What would he do? He could get to the Castle easily enough from the rim; he just couldn’t get inside. From the canyon rim, he’d have to climb a twenty-foot wall or else knock it down. Could he do that? Maybe with his SUV. I shuddered at that thought, for myself and for the ancient ruin. But that would make noise and surely draw attention from the campground. And damage his car, maybe prevent his escape anyway. He wouldn’t dare.

Some part of me still threatened to drift off into that shadowy dreamland of waiting, still, silent, and powerless, until someone else decided what happened next. I couldn’t give in. I had to pay attention. I had to protect myself.

I would not beat myself up because I had panicked. I had made a mistake. I could learn from that and move on.

I just had to keep showing up and doing the best I could.

The only way someone could reasonably get to me was through the doorway. My hideout was only safe if I protected the entrance. I crawled back to the three-foot-high doorway and peeked out. I was afraid someone might try to shoot me if I moved my head into view, but I had to get some idea of what they were doing. I kept low and searched for Sean’s light.

I didn’t see it, but a sound from below warned me of the choice Sean had made. I leaned out the doorway and looked down the cliff to be sure.

A dark form, with moonlight just glinting off his hair, edged up the cliff like a lizard. He was coming after me.

Chapter 24

I ducked back with a whimper. My first instinct was to scramble back inside the ruins and hide. But once I was trapped within those walls, I could do nothing but wait for Sean to find me.

I knelt, my hands pressed down against the stone as if I could draw power from the cliff itself. I had to act. I was in a position of strength. I had to use it. I would not be a victim this time.

Sean was only a few feet down, hauling himself up more quickly than I had done. I backed through the doorway and searched the ground for some loose object to use as a weapon. My hands closed on something; from the shape, I identified a block. I hesitated, the archaeologist in me protesting even now at disturbing an artifact. I swept my hand across the floor and found a loose rock the size of an orange.

I scurried back to the doorway and saw fingers creeping over the edge of the cliff, thick, pale worms searching for a hold. I whimpered and clutched the rock to my chest. Then with no more time for thought, I stretched forward and smashed the rock down on the fingers.

Sean howled and the fingers disappeared. I leaned forward to look over the edge.

He clung to the cliff, one arm wrapped around the chain and the other hand held close to his chest. He looked up at me. “You didn’t need to do that. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then why don’t you go away?” My voice sounded high and shaky.

“Let me come up and we can talk.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” I dragged air through my tight throat. My hands gripped the rock, my fingers chilled and stiff, rough ridges digging into my palms. The sensations kept me here, grounded, focused. When I spoke again, my voice sounded almost calm.

“Take your money and go home to your fancy apartment and say goodbye to it, because you’ll never live there again. The best thing you can do is run. You should have listened to Danesh.” My voice broke on his name and my voice wavered as I choked out, “And if you hurt him, I’ll kill you myself!”

He gazed up at me and actually smiled. “You wouldn’t. You’re not the type.”

“You don’t know anything about my type.”

His free hand moved back to the chain. “I know there’s something between us. Don’t you see, I was trying to protect you by keeping you away tonight. Because I care. I’m sure we can work something out—think of all the things we could do with this money.”

Leave it to a man to think one kiss meant you were his slave forever. He slid his hand up the chain.

“Forget it,” I said. “And if your fingers touch this cliff again, I’ll smash them even harder.”

His smile faded and his hand retreated. “You don’t want me, fine. But the money—”

“It’s not all about money.” I noticed his hand moving down toward his pocket.

The hand came out with a gun.

My body jerked but I resisted the instinct to jump back. He raised the gun. I threw the rock at his hand.

It hit him in the chin. He didn’t utter a sound, but I heard the thunk of the rock hitting him. I watch him slide down the cliff, hit the slope twenty feet below, and topple backward. A bush crackled as he rolled through it. His body tumbled and slid down into the canyon. The moon must have come out, because I could see all the way down to the river that rushed past fifty feet below. Sean splashed into the water and sank. He popped up fifteen feet farther downstream and then disappeared.

I huddled back against the wall, shaking with sobs. “I had to do it!” I gasped. “I had to!”

I closed my eyes, but I kept seeing him falling, the way he had seemed to bounce and roll before splashing into the river. Could he have survived that? I had been thinking only of stopping him, not killing him.

My own words echoed back to me. “I’ll kill you myself.” I hadn’t meant it literally. It was a figure of speech. Now Danesh might be dead, Jerry, too, because I had led criminals to them, and maybe I had killed Sean....

I don’t know how long I huddled there, but finally the shaking slowed to faint tremors. I knew I had no choice, that he would have killed me otherwise, but that didn’t stop the cold that spread through my chest. I turned my head and pressed my cheek against the block wall of the ruins. I had come to study ancient people, gone for centuries, to learn something about their lives and, in a sense, keep them alive in the modern world. Now I had most likely killed a man. It didn’t make sense.

I wanted to crawl back inside the Castle and hide, willing reality to fade away. But as I tried to push the memory of Sean’s falling body out of my mind, other thoughts rushed in to fill the space. Two dangerous men were still out there, waiting for Sean to return. Danesh and Jerry might still be alive. If they were, for how long?

I had to do something. But what?

I pressed my hands to my face. One step at a time. Before I could help anyone else, I had to get out of the ruin. My safe haven, which had seemed such a great place to get
to
when I was on the run, was not so great to get
from
. I’d have to go back down the way I’d come up.

I shuddered at the thought and closed my eyes to block out the yawning depths of the canyon. I couldn’t do it. Not after what I’d seen. I’d wait where I was. Surely the other men would leave soon if Sean didn’t come back. They weren’t local, and I didn’t even know their names—they didn’t have as much to lose by leaving witnesses. The police would come—they must be nearly here. It seemed like hours had passed since Jerry had called them.

Something nagged at me, something I needed to remember, to understand. I pressed my hands over my closed eyes. I had to think back over the night. I didn’t want to remember, but I was sure I had missed some important clue with everything happening so fast.

I had overheard the men and hidden. I had made it to the visitors center. Jerry had called the police, but just a few minutes later those men had shown up. Why had they come back?

And then I knew. Jerry had not called the police. He must have called Sean. How else had Sean known to come to the visitors center? And the men had walked in like they knew the situation, with no questions.

It was impossible. Jerry, one of them? No way. And yet nothing else made sense. Sean hadn’t gone far, and Jerry had called him back. Why, I couldn’t fathom. But it had to be true.

My thoughts grudgingly took the next step. What about Danesh? Was he involved?

I ignored my first instinctive protest and forced myself to consider the question seriously. Danesh had been with me while Jerry called. But then he’d been out of my sight for a few minutes, getting me clothing. Had they discussed what to do about me?

I shook my head. If they were both involved, why call Sean at all? They could have gotten rid of me in so many other ways, ways that looked more like an accident. Or even just delayed, pretended the phone was out, bought some time for the men to escape. And why start the fight so I could run? If that was part of a plan for dealing with me, it was too elaborate to make sense. Besides, if Danesh had known something was happening that night, he could have easily kept me away or insisted on taking me to my campsite.

I remembered Jerry pushing away from the wall with a cry, reaching out. I’d assumed he was joining the fight. Had he really been trying to stop Danesh from doing anything? Or had he finally realized how far in he’d gotten himself and started to have regrets? I couldn’t know, and it was safer to assume the worst.

I sighed. I wasn’t certain I understood anything. I believed Danesh was on my side, which helped make up for the pain of Jerry’s betrayal. And Danesh’s interest in me was honest, unlike Sean’s.

But what if Danesh was already dead? My chest felt tight, and I hugged myself, struggling against tears. He couldn’t be dead. I couldn’t bear that.

I tipped my head back and looked up at the night sky, drawing in raspy breaths. The moon, a day or two past full, shone down on me among wispy clouds. A few bright stars pricked through the haze of the sky. I felt the breeze on my face and smelled the earthy, spicy scent of wet desert. I was here, now. That was all I had to work with.

It felt like hours had passed since I’d fled the visitors center, but it was probably only a matter of minutes. I might still have time to do some good. Danesh might still be alive, and if so, he needed me. He didn’t have anyone else right now.

I had to think logically. The drug runners had expected Sean to take care of us. Sean had run out after me, but at some point he had gotten one of the guns. Had he already killed Danesh—and possibly Jerry, for knowing too much? Maybe the other men would have waited for Sean to find me before they did anything else. If Sean couldn’t find me, it would be better to run from drug charges than run from murder charges. And maybe Danesh had escaped during the fight anyway. Maybe he had already gone for help.

My heart leapt at the thought—not only because it would mean Danesh was still alive, but because then I could wait for rescue. I immediately felt guilty for the thought, but I’d never asked to be a hero. I’d never waited for a strong man to rescue me—and had certainly never had that experience before—but I’d take it now.

I shook my head. I couldn’t count on rescue. If Danesh was still in trouble, I needed to do something right away. I couldn’t predict what the other men would do if Sean didn’t come back. I couldn’t take chances.

Could I possibly work my way around the Castle instead of going back down the cliff? Maybe it wasn’t as hard as it looked. No, the ledge was only a few inches wide, with a rounded, unstable edge and nothing to grip on the block walls. The cliff down was the only way out.

I leaned forward to look over the edge. The image of Sean falling filled my mind, and I pulled back, sick and dizzy.

That was the past. I had to focus on now. I took a deep breath and turned around. I held on to the top of the chain and started to lower my feet over the edge. I would not look down again. I wouldn’t think about falling or worry about what I could do after I got down. I would just focus on my hands on the chain, my feet on the rock, moving one step at a time.

My feet were so numb that I could hardly feel the rock. At least the cold numbed the pain in my ankle, too. I watched my hands on the chain, feeling almost as if they were someone else’s hands. They responded to my commands, but they didn’t quite seem connected to me. Was this hypothermia or shock or my mind trying to retreat from reality?

It didn’t matter. I had to keep moving. Left hand down. Right hand down. Left foot down. Right foot down.

My foot hit solid ground so suddenly that it threw me off balance. I wobbled, clutching the chain with both hands until my mind finally registered that I could let go now. I paused to find my balance and then hobbled along the path that led up to the rim.

By the time I made it to the rim trail, my body seemed to be working better, warmed slightly by the exertion. I peered over the edge cautiously, half expecting to see a gun pointing at me. Nothing. I took the last few steps to the rim trail and stood on wobbly legs.

A dark shape swooped overhead. I gasped and cringed, but it was just an owl, hunting on silent wings.