Dead Man's Hand (Caden Chronicles, The) (14 page)

“
H
ey, I’ve been wondering what happened to you.” Annie stood outside the blacksmith shop, acting all friendly as if nothing had happened on Boot Hill. Relief can make you giddy, and she certainly looked chipper.

With Earp’s permission, I’d stopped by to tell her good-bye. It was part of my plan, the part I’d told him about. Motioning inside, we stepped into the shop and out of earshot of the workers by the O.K. Corral.

“Thanks for sticking by me up there in the graveyard,” I replied, trying to sound disappointed.

Her mood instantly changed. “What’d you expect me to
do? Tell the world I’d seen a body buried up there too? You get to go home when this is over. I still have to work here.”

“Did you put that note in my backpack?”

“No! How could you say such a thing? Of course not.”

“Funny how I found it and then found you waiting for me at the bottom of Boot Hill that evening.”

“I told you. Uncle Walt said for me to—”

“I know, I know. Keep an eye on me. Problem is, you’ve been keeping too close an eye on me. It seems you show up every time the killer does.”

“You’re not mad because I tried to help, are you?”

“Help? What help? You’re like the fair-weather friend who splits when the teacher walks into the room and catches you peeking at her homework assignment.”

“I let you into my uncle’s office, didn’t I?” she answered. “That little stunt almost cost me my job, thank you very much.”

“I didn’t twist your arm.”

“No, you certainly did not. Maybe I should just go.”

She pivoted to leave, and I caught her by the elbow. “Wait. I’m sorry. It’s just that …” I hesitated, studying her eyes. I needed to know how far I’d set the hook; how committed she was to keeping an eye on me.

“Your mom’s right. You’re obsessed with playing detective stuff.”

“Could be she’s right. It’s all I think about. Even now I keep wondering if I could have solved this case sooner and maybe saved your friend Jess if I’d paid more attention to the evidence in front of me.”

“Oh, give me a break. Haven’t you heard anything my uncle has been saying? Billy’s alive. Uncle Walt let me listen to the voice mail. He wanted me to know just how childish I was to let you drag me into this whole ghost murder mystery mess. Said it was time I stop acting like such a scatterbrained tomboy and grow up. He’s thinking of sending me to an allgirl prep school.”

“Too bad. Near as I can tell you’re the only fun thing there is in this tumbleweed, dead-end town.”

“Thanks,” she said, half-smiling. “I think.”

“Anyway, just came to say it’s been fun and hope there’s no hard feelings.” I paused, glancing casually around the shop at the horseshoes and smelting equipment. “You never did finish telling me who pushed you and gave you that nasty bruise.”

She looked down, pushed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, and mumbled, “Oh, you know what? I changed my mind about that. After that business in the graveyard I realized I was wrong to even bring it up. Just forget I said anything.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to sound concerned. “But remember, Annie. Whoever did that to you is probably the same person who killed Billy the Kid and whacked your friend Jess in the back of the head.”

“What are you talking about? Jess died of a snakebite.”

“After he’d been knocked unconscious. Ask the coroner if you don’t believe me. She discovered a knot on the back of his head. Looks like someone clubbed James, hauled him to the back of the mine, and somehow enticed that rattler to bite. Of course, I can’t prove that any more than I can prove Bell was killed in the hayloft. But I just thought you should know if you
were
pushed, that someone is probably still around and willing to do anything to keep you quiet.”

Looking flustered she said, “I, ah … thanks for the heads up.” Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed me quickly on the cheek. “You be careful, Nick Caden.”

Annie trotted away and I headed back to the corral to find Earp. I found him readying a pony for me. “Think she’ll go for it?” he asked.

“No doubt. She’s too scared not to.”

He lifted the latch of the stall and led my pony out. Handing me the reins he said, “I hope you know what you’re doing, son. You’re taking a huge risk.”

“Don’t I know it. But I’ll be fine. I have a little something I think will help me.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Truth. I heard it can set you free. Now let’s hope it can corral the bad guys too.”

The crime scene tape remained stretched across the entrance to the mine. The excavated lumber, broken beam supports, rocks, and tools were piled just where Buckleberry and the others had left them. I knew I had one chance to catch the killer. One wrong move and I would vanish just like Billy the Kid, the farmer in the saloon, the comic cowboy on the Big Sky, and the bandit outside the bank. Poof … never to be heard from again. The ghosts in Deadwood weren’t real; I knew that
much. But I didn’t need to see the evidence of wispy phantom figures to know that the killer was close by. I could sense it.

I ducked my head under the temporary pillars and listened. Nothing. Just the sound of my own anxious breathing. I checked to make sure the flashlight and other tools hadn’t fallen out of my jacket pocket, then entered the killer’s lair.

The darkness felt worse than before, the closeness of the walls suffocating. I reached the miners’ staging area and took a few moments to slow my breathing. I didn’t dare turn on the light. Not yet. Not until I had the snare set.

Onward I crept, counting my steps and trying to remember how far back we’d come before reaching the cave of bats. It seemed longer in the dark, and I had to tell myself I wasn’t lost. Couldn’t get lost. There was just the one long tunnel. As long as my feet kept tripping over the pushcart rails, I would be fine.

At last I reached the bats. Their clicking sounds served as the perfect cover, allowing me to bump my way along until I found the ladder. I checked my pockets once more. The last thing I needed was to drop my light and tools in the dark. Swinging one leg over, I felt for the rung, found good footing, and began my descent.

Around the fifth or sixth rung I detected a change in the bats clicking. Hurrying, I climbed down and reached the next level. Peering up into darkness, I strained to hear. Someone was definitely coming; the shuffle of feet confirmed it.

I moved quickly across the chamber, feeling my way along until I found the one tunnel. Scraping into walls with my elbows and thighs, I moved toward the place where I’d found James’s body, waited until I was around the corner, and clicked
on the flashlight. But only for a second. Only long enough to sweep the beam side-to-side and examine the length of the passageway. The twisting shaft went back much further than I’d expected. Behind me came a grunt of effort followed by the rough sound of the ladder shifting against the ledge. Breaking into a jog, I hurried away from my stalker.

The tunnel ended like all the others—a dead end.

I clicked on the light for a moment and found that what I’d thought was a wall of support beams was really a rough wooden door attached with three sturdy hinges. Timber posts had been cemented into the wall. Someone had gone to great effort to seal off this end of the tunnel, and I had a hunch I knew why. Light off.

I pushed against the door and felt it give a little. Using a Barlow knife I’d purchased at the general store, I felt for the crack between door and post, slipped the blade through, and lifted the J hook. The door opened and I stepped in, pushing it shut. Confident that I’d baited the trap properly, I turned on the light and aimed the beam at the glittering flecks of gold embedded in the ceiling and walls. Amber flecks glittered with such brilliance and density that the walls appeared to be moving. For several moments I stood transfixed by the sight. This wasn’t just a glory hole. This was the mother lode.

“You should’ve left when you had the chance, boy.”

Instantly a light blinded me.

The intensity of the spotlight consumed my flashlight’s puny beam. Beyond the glare of the spotlight, I heard the sound of a magazine sliding into place and knew, even blinded, that there was a gun aimed at me.

“After the way you embarrassed yourself in the graveyard,
I felt sure you would be on your way home by now. Guess I misjudged you.”

“You seem to be doing that a lot lately,” I replied, struggling to keep my voice from cracking.

“Careful now with that knife. Wouldn’t want you to get any ideas.”

My hand froze. I’d hoped to tuck it away after entering the chamber, but I’d been so caught off guard by the brilliance of the gold flecks that I’d forgotten.

“Kick it over here. Excellent. Now the flashlight.”

It, too, clanked onto the floor.

“Good. Now get those hands up where I can see them.”

This was not exactly how I’d planned to confront the killer, but it could still work. I just needed to buy a little more time.

I lifted my right arm, but instead of raising it over my head I used my hand to shield my eyes. It knocked the glare down just enough for me to see past the miner’s light. Annie stood near the light hunched forward, her head sagging, and bangs flopping into her face.

I said, “How you doing? Doing okay? Anything you need?”

“I, ah … I’m fine,” she stammered.

She appeared to be on the verge of tears. I could see why. I’d have been terrified too if someone had a Glock 19 handgun pressed against the back of my head.

“You can’t possibly think you’ll get away with killing the two of us, deputy.”

“Oh? And why not?”

Deputy Pat Garrett removed the miner’s light from his forehead and propped it on the floor, angling it in such a way
that it illuminated the room and cast more light on Annie. Her wrists were tied in front, ankles unbound.

“I figure right about now your parents will start wondering where you wandered off to, and they’ll send out a search party. No doubt the marshal will ride up to the railroad trestle and find the spot where the two of you stood too close to the edge. He’ll see where the ledge gave way and a bloodstain near the river’s edge and assume the bodies were swept downstream. Be just another tragic accident in a long line that’ll finally put this place out of business. So what is it exactly I’m not understanding?”

“That tunnel behind you,” I said. “The one you and Annie came in through. If I follow it out it’ll take me to the train trestle, right?”

“Every time.” With his free hand, Garrett shoved Annie onto her knees and pressed the gun execution-style against her head. A look of panic swept across her face.

“Bill Bell found out about the gold in the mine, didn’t he?” I said grimly. “Threatened to go to the marshal, and that’s why you killed him.”

“Caught me coming out of here a few days ago. He wanted to know what I was doing. Told him it was none of his business. He reminded me ‘bout that kid getting bit and how the marshal warned us that we couldn’t afford another mining disaster, that more bad press would shut us down. That was all I needed: that punk actor blabbing his mouth to Buckleberry.”

“So you shot him.”

He shrugged. “Could be your girl here shot him.”

“For a little while I wondered if she had,” I admitted, casually
moving toward the knife. “But I couldn’t find any reason for Annie to want Bell dead. I admit she has an uncanny ability of showing up at the wrong time. Why not just tell Bell what you found and cut him in on it?” I surveyed the walls again, taking in the abundance of gold. “From the looks of it, there’s plenty to go around.”

“Spend enough time studying people like I have and you become a pretty good judge of character. Get a gauge on how they’ll react. Bill wasn’t going to play nice. Sure I could’ve given him a cut, but I knew he’d want a bigger slice and would keep on threatening me until I gave him a larger share. Pretty soon it would’ve been me doing all the work and Bill living high. Just like it’s always been for me. Wasn’t going to be that way, not this time. Don’t think about going for that knife, boy. You’ll never make it.”

I froze. I could feel my palms perspiring and nervous sweat trickling down my sides. Licking dry lips I said, “One question. Why put that note in my backpack?”

“You don’t know? I thought you were the boy-wonder detective and knew everything. I needed to throw you off, make you think there was a body buried on Boot Hill. Otherwise you might have kept looking.”

“So you shot a bear? Isn’t that … overkill?”

“That one’s been getting after the cattle and scaring the horses. Was a nuisance. Like you. Marshal wanted me to trap it and let the wildlife folks haul it away. But when you showed up, I got another idea. Turns out a right good one too, judging from the reaction in the graveyard this morning.”

“So when you came at us with the shovel the other night, that was just to scare us and get Annie to keep quiet.”

“You wouldn’t shut up about Bill being murdered. Kept the marshal all in a snit about that.”

“So after you shot Bell and put his body in the trunk of the Charger …”

Garrett grunted.