MacFarlane's Ridge (7 page)

Cam was intrigued. “I know you can buy the little stones at the gift shops around here, but they’re already polished and sanded. Do the rocks actually look like crosses when you find them on the ground?”

“As a matter of fact, they do. Slightly misshapen and lumpy crosses, but still a cross nonetheless. It takes a lot of heat and pressure to make them crystallize in that shape. I think this is one of only a couple of places in the world where you can find them,” Troy added. “You should look for some while we’re here. They’re good luck.”

“I could use some of that,” she admitted.

They reached Fairy Stone State Park just before sunrise. The parking lot was deserted, as Cam had expected it to be. Troy pulled the truck into a corner spot at the rear of the lot, and Cam grabbed her backpack.

“We could just leave everything else in the truck for now,” she suggested. “We may not have to actually spend the night here if we find Wanda today.”

Troy stared at her, and Cam saw the rising sun reflected in his glasses. “Do you have some reason to think you know where she is? I mean, Fairy Stone is a pretty big park.”

Cam thought about the map on the cocktail napkin. “I have a pretty good idea where to go. It’s crude, but I think I can find what we’re looking for.”

“It’s the Faeries’ Gate, isn’t it? Did she come here looking for the Faeries’ Gate?” he demanded.

“Not exactly. I think she’s been here before. She may have gone to the cave where she believes the Faeries’ Gate is, because she feels safe there,” Cam mumbled.

“I thought no one knew where it was!” Troy exploded. “None of this makes any sense!”

“Troy, please!” She caught his arm. “I know it doesn’t, but just trust me. Actually, trust Wanda. Crazy or not, she left me directions for how to find her. I’m sure that’s what she meant about following the instructions.”

“Why would she give this information to you and not me?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But if we’re going to find her we need to get moving. She had a full day’s head start on us.”

Troy begrudgingly threw the tent and cooler into the cab of the pickup, along with the sleeping bags. He changed from his loafers into hiking boots, and laced them up tight.

About half a mile down the road, a maroon van sat in front of an empty convenience store. Its driver sat patiently chain-smoking. He would give them time to get started up the mountain, then park the van and follow them. He didn’t know why they were here, but he was certain it had to do with the Mabry woman.

He had searched Wanda’s house thoroughly Friday morning while she was in class. She had a lot of junk, but there was no sign of the journal. He had been watching Cam’s shop for several days as well, and when she left Friday night to head out to Wanda’s it had been easy enough to run her off the road. Afterwards, he had gone back to explore the house on Meador Street while Cam was at the Emergency Room. Unfortunately, the journal hadn’t turned up then either.

When he went back to Wanda’s early Saturday morning, she had been waiting for him, and tried to brain him with a huge cast iron pot. He was lucky the witch hadn’t killed him. Instead, she hit him in the shoulder, which only angered him, and he had thrown her to the floor. On the way down, she managed to knock herself out cold on the coffee table. He decided to take the opportunity to check the house once again and then, deciding it would be a bad thing for Wanda to remember what had transpired, he had opened up the valve on the propane tank out back, and flicked a cigarette into the house. By the time he saw the big orange ball of flame in his rearview mirror, he had been at the bottom of Wanda’s driveway.

Now Cameron Clark was gallivanting around Fairy Stone State Park with Troy Adams at six in the morning, and he intended to find out exactly what was going on. It bothered him that he wasn’t sure who had the journal, and he hoped fervently that it hadn’t been in Wanda Mabry’s house. He could probably get a quarter of a million dollars from a museum for that journal, but what he really wanted to find was
all
of Mollie Duncan’s journals. The irony of it all was that the one existing journal was quite possibly in the hands of someone who had no idea of its value. Cam Clark was not an antiques dealer. She was a bookworm with a marketing degree who ran a junk shop, for God’s sake. He squirmed in frustration. If he had been smart, he would have gotten to old Granny Clark’s place while she was still alive, checked out all her stuff, and offered to clean house for her for just a few hundred bucks. He banged his hand on the steering wheel in anger, and the resulting “honk” brought him back to reality.

It was now nearly seven. The sun was up. It was a cool and crisp Sunday morning, and in a few hours, the fall day-trippers would begin to show, looking for lucky stones. It was time to get to work.

“I need a break,” panted Troy, plopping down on a large boulder. “I am so out of shape.”

Cam glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she reached in her backpack for the coffee thermos. Troy wasn’t as out of shape as he claimed, but he
was
a little round in the middle. “You’re doing fine. Have some coffee.”

“Thank you. How come you aren’t even sweating?”

“Troy, it’s November. Why would I be sweating?”

He gulped the coffee. “Because we just hiked about ten miles up hill all the way. Aaah, hot coffee. We climbed over rocks the size of Montana. My feet hurt.”

Cam laughed. “We have hiked about two miles. And the rocks aren’t that big. You should have better boots.” She sat down beside him and nudged him playfully.

“These boots are the finest my Sears card could buy,” he huffed.

She laughed, and they sat and sipped coffee in silence, listening to the sounds of the mountain. The view was spectacular, and they were nowhere near the top.

“Pretty amazing, huh?” Troy asked.

“Mmmm. It’s beautiful,” she agreed. When she looked at him, he had a funny expression on his face.

“So are you,” he blurted.

Cam blinked owlishly. “Oh, Troy, no….” she stammered, mortified.

“God, I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I just… I can’t help it. We’re always around each other, and I’m really attracted to you, and I know you don’t think of me that way, but --- oh, God, this is embarrassing.”

“Troy,” Cam said firmly. “Stop babbling. It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed. I am flattered.”
Be honest with him
, a little voice told her. “But,” she continued, “I really value your friendship, and you’re right. I don’t feel “that way” about you. But the way I do feel is that you are one of the most wonderful people I know, and I’m glad that you’re here with me right now.”

He smiled. “That’s the nicest put-down I’ve ever had.”

She gave him a big hug. “It’s not a put-down. You are wonderful, Troy. I just… I’m just not looking for a relationship right now. I need a friend, not a boyfriend. Okay?”

“Okay.” Troy sighed. “I guess this mountain ain’t getting any flatter while we sit here yapping, is it? Let’s get going.”

From the woods, Wayne Sinclair observed with interest. He couldn’t hear, but he could certainly see. It looked like Cam Clark was fooling around with the new deputy. That would be fascinating fodder for the Haver Springs gossip mill. Of course, when Cam and the deputy failed to come back, that would open up all kinds of speculation. As he watched, he saw them plunge into the shrubbery, leaving the trail completely. This was getting very interesting. In fact, he decided, once the new deputy was out of the way, and he had learned from Cam where the journal was hidden, things were going to become even more interesting. He wondered just how involved Cam and Troy Adams had become.

“Do you even know where we are going?”

“Mmmm.” Cam consulted the cocktail napkin in her pocket once more. “It shouldn’t be much further.”

“And it’s a cave?” Troy asked.

“Yes, I think so, but it might just look like a crack in the rocks. There might even be shrubs covering it, if Wanda is hiding in there.”

Troy came to a sudden halt. “You mean like that, up there?”

Cam looked where he was pointing. About a hundred yards above them, high on the slope, was a group of large boulders protruding from the side of the mountain. Between two of them was a space, with a bunch of prickly-looking bushes in front of it. They headed towards it as quickly as possible.

“Wanda!” called Troy. “Are you here? Wanda?”

There was no answer from above, but as they got closer Cam could see that someone had been here recently. The leaves had been trampled upon, and the branches of the shrubs had been broken in places. Troy stopped suddenly.

“Do you smell that?”

Cam shook her head. “No. What is it? Patchouli?”

“No. Smoke.”

Cam shrugged. “Maybe a campfire around here somewhere.”

“Not that kind. Cigarette smoke.” Troy began looking around the mountainside with his binoculars. “I don’t see anything, but I definitely smell it.”

Cam shone her flashlight inside the crevice in the rocks. “Hello?” she called softly. She could hear a whooshing sound far off in the recesses of the cave, but otherwise it was silent. It looked as if they were going to have to go in.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Troy looked at her in horror. “What do you mean, go? Go in? In there?”

Cam looked at him incredulously. “Of course. If Wanda’s in here, she might be hurt. We can’t leave her in there!”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I can’t.”

“Of course you can. Just suck in your belly, and squeeze through, like this, she demonstrated.

“No, no. I mean I really can’t.”

“Why?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Troy blushed. “I’m, uh, claustrophobic. I have panic attacks.”

“What?”

“When I was about six I got trapped in my granny’s outhouse one night. It was the next morning before anyone found me. Ever since then I just can’t go in small spaces,” he said defensively.

Cam looked at him. “I don’t believe my ears. You’re serious?”

He nodded.

“Okay. I’ll go in without you. But stay close by, just in case I find her and she’s not moving on her own, okay?” Cam was itching with anticipation. She knew Wanda had to be in the cave.

She squeezed back in through the opening, and Troy handed her the backpack, and a length of rope he had remembered to bring along. She winked at him as she backed into the cave. “Wish me luck!”

Troy shuddered visibly. “Just hurry up. I changed my mind about thinking this was a good idea.”

The cave was tall enough that she could stand comfortably, and as she looked around she realized that she was actually in a small room, rather than a tunnel as she had originally though. It was cool and dry inside.

She moved forward slowly. The chamber was about fifteen feet long by eight feet wide, and at the far end, she could see an opening into the opposite wall. She shone the light in, and realized she was going to have to do some crawling. As she lifted herself into the opening, she heard a shout from the exterior of the cave.

“What the…?” she murmured. Cam scurried towards the cave’s entrance. Peeking out, she saw nothing. Then she gasped. Down the slope, Troy Adams lay in a heap on the ground. A man was standing over Troy, holding a large piece of wood in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Cam ducked back into the rocks, her heart pounding. What was he doing here? Suddenly it all fell into place. The fire at Wanda’s. The van running her off the road. The hang-up phone call. For a fleeting moment Cam wished she had never heard of Mollie Duncan or her damn journal.

“Cameron!” he called.

Cam held her breath.

“Cam, I know you’re up here somewhere. Come on out and talk to me, honey. I won’t hurt you!”

Tears streamed down her face as she backed away from the entrance. Now Troy was dead, or at least badly wounded, and she was trapped in a cave, and sooner or later he would find her and she would be dead too. She stopped for a moment.

“Wanda,” she whispered. Wanda was in here somewhere! Wanda could help her. After all, between the two of them they might be able to figure out a way to get rid of him. Taking one more quick glance down the slope, and seeing him moving towards her hiding place, she raced to the back of the cave. With a deep breath, she hoisted herself up into the smaller tunnel, and began to crawl as fast as she could.

Wayne hated Cameron Clark. Because the cop had met him halfway down the slope, he hadn’t been able to see where Cam had gotten to. Now he had to climb up there and look for her, and that made him angry. Why wouldn’t she just come out and make it easier on both of them? Now that Troy Adams was out of the way, he would have plenty of time to make Cam tell him where the journal was. He sighed resignedly. The things he was willing to do for his career! He noticed a crack between two rocks further up, and wondered if she was hiding in there. It was certainly worth checking.