Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (34 page)

Kate leaned against the other side of the counter. “I
thought you said it was a horse.”

“I did, but after doing some research, I’ve decided it’s a
deer. Or a mule.” Claire glanced at Kate, wondering why her sister was wearing
all black on such a toasty afternoon. “What’s with the Johnny Cash look?”

Kate shrugged. “I’m in mourning.”

“Why?”

“My sister stole my boyfriend.”

Claire snickered. “As if you hadn’t already wadded him up
and tossed him aside.”

“Mom doesn’t know that.”

“Ahhh, I see. This is all for her benefit.”

“You’d do it, too, if Mom had bitten a chunk out of your ass
this morning.” Kate strolled over to the candy aisle and plucked a package of red
Twizzlers from the shelf. “She really doesn’t want me spending any more time
with Butch.”

What would Deborah say if she found out Kate had been playing
tongue tag with Butch last night?

“Why are you wearing those?” Kate nodded at the yellow,
rubber, dish-washing gloves Claire had donned after realizing just how old Joe’s
stick figure might be.

“Precautionary measures.” She grinned at Kate. “Something
you should try practicing the next time you feel like breaking and entering at
The Shaft.”

Flipping Claire the bird, Kate stuffed a Twizzler in her mouth
and tromped toward the coolers at the back of the store.

Gingerly placing the twig figurine on the countertop, Claire
scanned the pages of Ancient Southwestern Cultures in a
Nutshell
, one of
the books Kate had checked out of the library for her last week after Claire
had wrestled with that old dame.

Could this toy-looking-thing really date back over four
thousand years? According to the author, the people who made these animal
figures had lived in and around the Grand Canyon prior to the Anasazi’s occupation.
Constructed of willow twigs, the effigies were used in hunting ceremonies.

Kate placed a bottle of diet soda on the counter, along with
a couple of bucks. “So, what’s the big deal with this stick deer? Besides Joe
stashing it with the mummified hand.”

“Others like it have been found only in caves.” Claire
shoved Kate’s money in the cash drawer and pushed it closed.

“Hey, what about my change?”

“Consider it my tip.”

“For what?”

“Not telling Mom you were mauling Butch last night when she
prodded me for details.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Kate stuck another Twizzler in her mouth. “So
you think Joe found that in a cave?”

“Or one of his mines.” Claire tucked the figurine in a
Ziplock bag and peeled off her gloves, her hands wet with sweat.

“But those mines are only a century old. If this thing is as
ancient as you say, how would it have ended up in a mine?”

“Maybe somebody found it and stowed it in the mine.”

“That sounds pretty flimsy.”

“I know.” Claire stole a piece of candy from Kate. “But it
was with the mummy hand, which I think came from one of the mines, too.”

“What about the sandal and bag?”

Claire paused mid-chew. “What do you mean?”

“What have you learned about them?”

“Nothing yet. I’m still searching for similar-looking
designs in these books for the bag, and I haven’t read a thing about footwear.”

Kate opened her soda pop. “Speaking of footwear, can I
borrow your tennis shoes again?”

“Why? What’s wrong with yours?”

“They still reek of skunk, remember?”

“Fine, but watch where you step or you’ll be scraping the
dog shit out of the grooves this time.”

“You’re the one in charge of taking care of Henry while
Gramps is gone, including scooping up his parting gifts.”

Claire sat back, her arms crossed. “You know, I’m getting
pretty damned tired of cleaning up after everyone’s shit. How is it you’ve
managed to avoid any tasks requiring even the least bit of crap-work yet again?”

Kate shrugged. “Just good karma, I guess.” She opened the
latest copy of a scandal rag and scanned a page while chewing on her candy. “Oh,
I also need a ride to town tonight.”

“Ask Mom to drive you.”

“You know she doesn’t drive after dark.”

“We’re not going to the bar again.” Claire’s stomach heaved
at just the thought of tossing back more alcohol.

“No, this is for something else.”

“What?”

Jess shoved through the curtain. “Claire, what’s this?” She
raced up to the counter and held out a couple of pieces of paper, her breaths
quick, her cheeks pink, and one side of her hair still damp. Obviously fresh
out of the shower, she smelled like her favorite coconut-scented shampoo.

Claire took the papers. “One is a receipt for a general
delivery post office box at Creekside Supply Company.”

Make that a twenty-five-year-old receipt, according to the
date scrawled on the receipt. The box must have been Joe’s originally, since
Ruby hadn’t even lived in town for a decade. Claire laid the receipt on the
counter.

“I didn’t know this place even had a post office.” Kate
leaned over to take a look at the receipt.

“The hardware store rents out the back corner of the store
to the government.” Claire explained.

“What’s the other?” Kate asked.

Claire read the faded words and numbers. “It’s another
receipt covering the cost of the post office box through next year.”

“Is this the key for the box?” Jess pulled a small, brass
key from the front pocket of her red shorts.

“It might be.” Claire wondered what Jess was up to.

“Do you think Mom might be keeping my money there?”

Ah. Claire caught the caboose of Jess’s train of thought. “There’s
a slim chance.” But she doubted it. If Ruby didn’t trust the bank, she surely
wasn’t going to trust the good ol’ U.S. Postal Service to keep her money safe.

“But there is a chance.”

“Sure.” There was also a chance that Bigfoot really roamed
the forests of the Pacific Northwest.

Clapping her hands, Jess said, “Let’s go see.”

“We can’t. The post office is gated off on Sundays.”

Jess’s face fell. “Crud.” She started to turn toward the
green curtain and then stopped. “Oh, yeah.” She dug in her back pocket. “What’s
this?” She placed a small, rectangular, black box on the counter along with the
post office box key.

“Looks like a jewelry box.” Kate offered some candy to Jess
as she stared at the box with a slightly furrowed brow.

Claire picked up the box and gave it a slight shake while
loosening the lid. As she lifted the top off, she gasped, gaping down at the
slice of shiny gold.

“Holy shit!” Kate leaned close to Claire, breathing sweet-scented
warm air on her. “Is that what I think it is?

Claire raised her gaze to Jess. “Where did you find this?”

Jess shrugged and smiled wide—too wide. Red bits of candy
laced her white teeth. “I can’t remember.”

“Think harder then.” Claire didn’t feel like playing games.

The girl’s smile faltered. A dark pink blush climbed her
neck and spread across her cheeks. “Umm, it might have been in the floor of Mom’s
closet.”

* * *

The layers of earth surrounding Mac muted everything but the
sound of his footsteps on the dirt and rock floor as he traipsed further into
the depths of the Lucky Monk. His hard hat light bounced along the craggy rock
walls and ceiling. Shadows nibbled at his boot heels as he followed the rusted,
half-buried tracks that ran down the middle of the adit, the avenue through
which all copper had found its way to the surface.

The cool air trapped under the earth made his sweat-dampened
T-shirt feel like a cold, wet sheet. He paused near a wide-mouthed tunnel that
drifted off to the right and lowered his pack to the floor. First things first—a
dry shirt. He peeled off his wet shirt and fished out the clean one he carried
with him for times like this.

Next, he unfolded the eleven-by-seventeen inch copies he’d
made of Joe’s old map of the mine and spread them on the floor in front of him,
lining up the edges. While exploring yesterday, he’d marked some of the side
tunnels with orange spray paint, but not enough to go skirting willy nilly
through the mine without consulting the map every few hundred feet.

His stomach growled for some dinner. He dug in his pack for
his flashlight and the protein bar he’d picked up at Biddy’s Gas and Carryout
on his way to the mine. As he chewed, he scanned the underground roadmap.

Unlike Rattlesnake Ridge, which followed a mostly-vertical
vein deep into the ground, the Lucky Monk spread out along a horizontal wave of
copper, with three relatively shallow shafts sunk into the earth—although,
there were only two noted on the map in front of him. Side tunnels branched off
from the main adit, and more branches spread from those, making the map look
like a lopsided tree, with twice as many branches on one side.

At some point in history, the Lucky Monk had been a
prosperous claim. And from the clues Mac had found so far in the walls and
ceiling, with enough capital, it could flourish again.

In addition to the slew of tunnels shown, there were several
X’s marked on the map. But there was no explanation for each X—a casualty of
many old mine maps, especially ones that had passed from hand-to-hand over the
years.

The first X Mac had sought out had led him to a solid wall
jagged with scarred rocks—a dead end.

The second X turned out to be the third, unlisted shaft: a
hole, four-feet in diameter, dug straight down into the earth. Rusted remnants
of ladder anchors were all that remained of the past. Mac had scooped up
several pebbles and dropped them down the dark shaft, expecting a splash as
they hit water, which often filled old shafts around these parts. Seconds
later, he’d heard the clatter of the pebbles bouncing off solid rock.

Not only was the shaft shallow, but dry too. One of these
days, he’d have to bring his climbing equipment and slip down there to see if
any drifts spliced off from it.

The third X represented a small chamber where a prospector
had been digging out some copper ore mixed with tiny glints of silver that
zig-zagged along the wall, up the ceiling, down the other wall, and into the
floor. A square shovel and broken pickax had been left behind to rust together
in the dark.

The last X he’d had the time to seek out turned out to be another
dead end, almost half a mile back in the mine. This time, a pile of rocks—the
results of a cave-in—blocked any further travel. There was no telling how long
ago the beams holding up the walls and ceiling had submitted to the god of
gravity.

Stuffing the last of the bar in his mouth, Mac scooped up
the maps. He glanced back the way he’d come. His nerves waged a campaign to
head for sunshine and Claire, to inhale fresh air instead of the musty breaths
from the Lucky Monk’s dusty lungs.

But his sense of duty didn’t suffer quitters well. He’d made
a commitment to his aunt, not to mention the gut feeling he couldn’t shake that
there was something yet to be found in this mine that made it worth stealing
out from under Ruby.

He shot one last look behind him as he slipped his arms into
his pack, and then hiked deeper into the mine.

* * *

“How did you find this?” Claire asked Jess.

They stood in Ruby’s closet staring down at a trap door in
the floor that lay open. A 40-watt light bulb dangled from the ceiling. The parquet-style,
oak floor boards creaked under Claire’s feet as she stepped over the carpet
Jess had pulled back from the wall. The long, skinny room smelled faintly of
jasmine, no doubt due to the two packets of fragrant beads hanging from a nail
next to the accordion-style closet door. Shoe boxes lined the shelf above Ruby’s
clothes.

Jess popped her gum. “I was in here looking for my money
yesterday, and the floor kept squeaking when I’d step right here.” She pointed
at the trap door.

With her back to the bedroom, Claire squatted next to the
trap door cleverly disguised in the floor’s triangular design. The handle lay
flush with the wood, visible only under scrutiny, and accessible only after
removing a triangle piece.

“Then today, when I was in the shower, I was thinking about
you and that loose board in the tool shed last spring and it hit me—maybe the
boards squeaked because Mom hid the money under it.”

Claire lifted a small box from the hole in the floor, the
metal cool in her palms. Listening with half an ear as Jess prattled on about
why Ruby should just share the money with her now instead of waiting two more
years, Claire opened the lid.

A Browning 9mm lay diagonally in the box, taking up most of
the available real estate. Claire glanced up at Jess, glad she wasn’t the kind
of kid who got off on playing with guns.

Ruby had made a point of teaching Jess all about firearms
long ago. She’d once told Claire that living with Joe Martino made gun
familiarity a necessity, since the man had them stashed all around the house.
He’d claimed collecting guns had been his hobby—a rather creative way of hiding
his true sleazy profession, in Claire’s opinion.

Carefully lifting the handgun from the box, Claire made sure
the safety was on and set it down behind her, the barrel pointed toward the
outer wall. She turned back to the box. A greeting-card-sized envelope,
yellowed in the corners, lay at the bottom of it.

“What do you think?” Jess’s question drew Claire’s gaze. The
girl wore a pair of Ruby’s silver, three-inch heels and held a white satin
dress under her neck. “Mom wore this when she married Joe.”

“It’s a pretty dress.” Claire picked up the envelope. It was
sealed.

“I wonder if Mom still has those diamond earrings Joe bought
her the Christmas before his stroke.” Jess brushed past Claire and clomped into
the bedroom in Ruby’s heels.

With Jess off digging through Ruby’s jewelry box, Claire
picked at the envelope seal. The glue was so old that the flap tore open
easily. She pulled out a handful of pictures, squinting at the top one in the
dull light.