Whispers in the Dark (9 page)

He nodded. “Sleep well.” A moment later he had vanished among the trees.

I suddenly felt so exhausted I couldn’t even bear the thought of walking to the restrooms to brush my teeth. I kicked off my boots and crawled into my sleeping bag.

Just before I drifted off to sleep, I realized I had forgotten to tell Danesh about the voices and lights in the ruins.

Chapter 10

Despite the night’s adventures—or maybe even because of them—I slept well and woke refreshed. I got to work and finished taking samples from two more storehouses. When I found a pale residue I didn’t think was sand, I fixed and labeled two slides and tucked them into my sample box. I found some seeds as well, but they were probably recent additions, deposited by a rodent.

I was on my elbows and knees halfway in the storehouse with my butt sticking out when I heard a hello. I wriggled backward and turned to see Danesh walking down the path. I shaded my eyes and smiled up at him. “Thanks for not sneaking up on me—this time.”

He grinned. “I’m learning. Though you are awfully cute when you’re mad. How about some lunch? We picked up sandwiches.”

He brushed right past the “cute” comment, so I decided I could ignore it. “Sounds good.”

I followed Danesh up the path, admiring his smooth, light-footed stride, which hardly disturbed a pebble. I never would have heard him if he hadn’t called out. I guess he really had made a special effort not to startle me.

As I thought of that first encounter, I found myself wishing he were wearing shorts and no shirt again. I remembered the feel of his arms around me the night before, warm and very male, yet gentle and comforting. When he reached the rim and waited for me, my smile felt stiff and I couldn’t meet his gaze. Apparently my libido had started up again and was showing an alarming lack of discrimination. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes straight ahead during the rest of the walk.

Jerry smiled as I entered the visitors center and waved me to the back room. I sank onto the sofa, grateful to escape the sun for a while. Jerry pointed to three paper-wrapped sandwiches on the table. “I g-g-got ham, turkey, and veg-vegetarian. You choose.”

“I’ll take turkey, if that’s all right.”

“It’s fine,” Danesh said, picking up the vegetarian. “Jerry will eat anything.”

I wondered if he was teasing Jerry about his weight. But Jerry was smiling and nodding as he picked up the ham sandwich. I had to stop jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst. I’d decided to be friendly, so it was time to tone down my overactive defenses.

I unwrapped the sandwich and bit through thick layers of meat and cheese between fragrant sourdough bread. People certainly knew how to eat in this little corner of nowhere. Danesh passed around sodas from the little fridge, and the cold cola tasted like heaven after a morning of hard work with only a bottle of increasingly hot water to ease my thirst.

As I listened to the men talk, I wondered how Jerry felt when Danesh finished his sentences for him. I’d felt the temptation myself sometimes but had resisted. Did Jerry feel hurt or angry when people literally took the words right out of his mouth? Or was he relieved to be understood quickly, so he didn’t have to struggle through the rest of his statement? It was a sad side effect of our polite society that you couldn’t just ask outright how someone felt or what he wanted. You had to guess and hope for the best. Or the worst, depending on your attitude.

I regretted that I would probably never get to know Jerry well and wondered how many others found it easier to avoid his friendship rather than work for it.

Danesh turned to me. “You told us about school. What do you do for fun? Or don’t you have time for that?”

“School is fun. But I do other things. I’m on an intramural softball team. I like to go dancing or just hang out at a bar.” Maybe I shouldn’t have included that last statement. They might be picturing crummy dives with alcoholic bums, not the casual, student-friendly bars around Harvard Square.

“I don’t suppose you do much hiking,” Danesh said.

“Not by your definition. I go city hiking. Boston is a great city for walking. You can take the subway somewhere and then wander for hours. There are some great historical walking tours.”

Danesh glanced at my legs. “Keeps you in shape, anyway. Hiking is my favorite pastime. Not much else to do around here. Outside, anyway.”

I wondered just what he was implying about indoor activities. He took another bite of his sandwich, with no sly smile to show he was suggesting something, but he wasn’t the easiest guy to read. I, on the other hand, was probably turning pink as visions of Danesh getting indoor “exercise” filled my mind.

“What po-po-position?” Jerry asked.

“What?” For a moment I thought Jerry had read my mind. Then I realized what he meant. “Oh, shortstop mostly. We trade around, though.”

“Wo-would you l-l-like—” he seemed to get totally stuck and turned Danesh with a pleading gesture.

“Hey, that’s right! Maureen’s team is playing today, right?”

When Jerry nodded, Danesh explained. “Maureen is Jerry’s girlfriend. She plays on a city league—strictly fun, you know. More about drinking beer and trading jokes than winning. I’m sure they’d be happy to have a visiting player.”

“That... sounds like fun.” Playing softball with a bunch of strangers wasn’t on top of my to-do list, but I was still processing the information that Jerry had a girlfriend and feeling guilty that I was so surprised.

Danesh glanced at the clock on the wall. “What time’s the game?”

“Six,” Jerry said.

“So if we leave here right at five, we’ll make it. They usually have a pizza break, and afterward everyone goes out for drinks.”

Apparently it was settled. I was starting to like the idea, though. I told myself it would be rude to turn down Jerry’s kind offer, but in reality I couldn’t wait to get a look at the girlfriend. Plus, pizza! If I kept up this hectic social life, I’d never have to cook for myself. “I’ll be here at five.”

“Bring that shirt. I’ll take it home and wash it.”

I glanced down at my uniform shirt and wrinkled my nose. “Thanks for the hint. You’re the one who told me to wear it every day.” I stood and tossed my sandwich wrapper into the garbage. “I guess if you’re going to wash it, there’s no point in holding back now. A few more hours of work and it should be totally funky. I hope you don’t pass out in your car from the fumes.”

Danesh grinned up at me. “We’ll toss it in the trunk. Don’t work too hard. And I mean that. The heat is ferocious this time of day.”

“I’ll be careful.” How many times did I have to repeat that statement? But he meant well. We’d all enjoy this month more if I let those comments go. But I would be careful not to get heat stroke, if only because I didn’t want to prove him right.

I worked for another two hours before I had to concede defeat. I felt limp from the heat and my head pounded from the sun, so I decided to take a break in the cool bottom of the canyon. I found a nice boulder at the edge of the river, took off my boots and socks, and soaked my feet until they felt numb and I started to shiver in the spray of cool water.

I backed away from the river and had a snack while my feet dried. It was almost four o’clock, so I had a little time before I had to change clothes and meet the guys. I couldn’t do much of a tour, but I could visit one or two structures and use my official shirt as an excuse to take a closer look. I remembered the lights from the night before and tried to decide where they might have been. The best bet seemed like the ruin known as Eroded Boulder House. I took the path up to the canyon rim and headed for that site.

The Ancestral Pueblo People had taken advantage of a natural formation—an enormous rock with one side eroded underneath, forming an overhang something like a porch roof. The ancient builders had used the boulder for the roof and back wall, building three more walls to enclose the unit. Most of the stones had fallen from the outer walls, leaving rubble scattered around the boulder, but some interior walls still stood.

This ruin was one of the most accessible from the trail, and visitors were actually allowed to go inside. I skirted the boulder until I could enter the ruin. I had to crouch to get through the low doorway, even with part of the wall collapsed. Once inside, I stayed in a crouch. The Ancestral Pueblo People had been even shorter than I was.

I paused to let my eyes adjust before glancing around. After the bright light outside, I couldn’t see much detail. As I turned to go, a glint of white against the reddish-brown stones caught my attention. A crumpled piece of paper. Why couldn’t people be more careful with their litter?

I grabbed the paper and went back outside. The paper contained a crude drawing—a sort of puffy Y-shape with marks on it. Random doodles? Secret code?

The drawing seemed vaguely familiar. I turned it sideways, then upside down. Where had I seen that shape before?

I almost laughed. The canyon! Like the diagram in my guidebook, the Y-shape showed only this end, where the ruins were clustered. The marks must indicate some of the ruins, though it didn’t have all of them. Some were marked with little squares, and one with an X. X marks the spot? Buried treasure?

Could it have anything to do with the lights and voices the previous night? I shook my head. Most likely some kids’ game. The only children I’d seen were the poor little boys from last night. Surely they were too young to be running around on their own after dark. Though, on reflection, I had to admit that it was probably no more dangerous than staying with their parents. I didn’t have much experience with kids, but those two certainly were frighteningly self-possessed and had been on their own when I first met them. I wondered if they were still with the Wests or if they had been taken to town.

I crumpled the paper to throw it away but hesitated. Should I show it to Danesh and Jerry? They might want to know if someone was playing games in their ruins. But the whole thing seemed harmless. I didn’t see any damage or anything out of place. And I certainly didn’t want anyone questioning those two little boys. They might already be gone and never come back, but if they did, I didn’t want anyone harassing them. The Wests would keep an eye on them.

I would just forget about what I had seen. We’d had enough trouble last night. I didn’t need to start more. I had enough to worry about with a night of “local color” ahead.

Chapter 11

I checked my watch. Time to be getting to the visitors center. I was looking forward to the evening but also nervous about meeting a big group of new people. What if I didn’t like anybody? What if they didn’t like me? Playing softball should be okay, because we had something to do. I could plead exhaustion and skip out on the bar afterward if I didn’t feel comfortable. At least I was getting involved. I was showing up, even if I wasn’t comfortable yet.

I wondered if I’d run into Sean. This area couldn’t have too many options for social interaction. And coincidences happened just when you thought they couldn’t. Not that I really cared, but it would be funny if he turned out to be on the softball team or something.

I went back to the campground and washed up, but I knew nothing would make much of a difference if I were going to spend an hour in a hot car and then play softball. I’d bring my brush and mascara so I could primp a bit afterward, but this didn’t seem like the region for big makeup jobs.

Finally I hopped in my car and drove the half-mile to the visitors center. I arrived at ten minutes to five and saw a car and a truck in the parking lot. I assumed they belonged to Jerry and Danesh, but when I went inside I saw a young couple standing at the counter. Jerry handed a camping permit to the man.

The woman, not much more than twenty with wavy, bottle-blonde hair, leaned across the counter toward Danesh. “Do you lead any walks or fireside chats?” she asked, with emphasis on the “you.”

“Sometimes. There’s a nature walk every morning at ten, and Sunday night a storyteller will present some folktales. He’s really good.”

“I’m just so interested in learning about your people,” she purred.

Danesh met my eyes over the woman’s head and said without expression, “If you want to learn about the Pueblo Indians, you should visit one of the Pueblos or the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center in Albuquerque.”

She started to speak but her boyfriend or husband put his arm around her and growled, “Come on, let’s go.”

As he dragged her away, she looked back at Danesh. “Thanks so much. See you soon!”

Her companion almost pushed her out the door. As he brushed past me, he gave me a puzzled glance, probably wondering why I was snickering.

I smiled at Danesh. “Well handled.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Is it five yet?” He and Jerry tidied some papers, turned out the lights, and locked the door behind them.

Jerry went to the truck. Danesh said, “I’ll ride with Kylie so she won’t get lost.”

Jerry nodded, and Danesh headed for the passenger side of my car. At least he didn’t assume it was a male prerogative to drive. I got in and hurriedly cleared off the passenger seat. “You don’t have your own car?” I asked as Danesh slid in.

“Sure, but we carpool. I only live a mile from Jerry.”