The Devil's Cauldron (17 page)

“By himself? Nice.”

“It’s not that far. Pretty sure he can handle the hike. He’s a—well, we both know he’s not a big boy. But he can follow orders.”

Kaitlyn strummed the taut rope like it was a giant banjo string. A vibration shivered its way down and made Meggie shake. Then Kaitlyn pulled on the rope, making it swing back and forth.

“Stop that. I mean it.”

“You’re taking your time down there. Don’t you want to come up? Maybe you’re out of shape. You’re so fat and lazy I’m surprised you made it this far.”

Only fifteen feet more to go. Meggie was spent, and even a few seconds talking to her tormentor had her muscles stiffening up. She had to keep moving. Slowly, laboriously, she pumped her legs. Foot by foot she rose to the surface. Kaitlyn disappeared. The rope strummed again. What was she doing up there? Meggie redoubled her effort.

The rope lurched. It was like a jerk from an old elevator, when the brake releases and the car falls, feeling like it is about to plummet to the earth. Meggie’s heart leaped into her throat.

“Hey!”

The rope caught fast. When Meggie’s head stopped swooning, she looked down to see that the rope had slipped several feet and dropped her halfway back to the boulder. She swung back and forth, heart pounding.

Kaitlyn appeared above the shaft. She held the end of the rope coiled over her forearm.

“What are you doing?” Meggie cried.

“Untying the knot. Don’t worry, I left a couple of coils slung around the boulder.”

“Are you insane?”

“Maybe. I wonder sometimes.”

“Kaitlyn, please don’t.”

“Because how else would you explain it? I had everything I wanted. Then you came along. I knew right away you were no good. That you were going to poison Benjamin’s mind.”

“That I what?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Kaitlyn asked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Please, I’m coming up.”

For a moment she debated dropping back to the rock and holding on for dear life. Wait for Duperre to find her, even if it took all night. But the boulder was wet, moss-covered, and she’d still be in plain sight of Kaitlyn. The woman could drop rocks on her head, she was so close. If Benjamin’s cousin was about to have a breakdown, Meggie damn well had to get back to the surface, and fast. Her legs pumped with fresh energy, drawn from God knew where.

“You must think I’m an idiot,” Kaitlyn said. “Did you forget that I’m in charge of IT? I’m no idiot—I put monitoring software on all those computers.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

Kaitlyn kept talking over her, as if Meggie were lying. Because of course she was.

“I need to keep an eye on Benjamin’s brothers. They don’t trust me like he does. They want to force me out, and cheat me of my share. Turns out, you’re a cheating bitch, too.”

Meggie was only a few feet down now. She swung her arm up, grasping for the surface.

“No, you don’t,” Kaitlyn said. She took a coil of rope and whipped it back toward the rock like a fly fisherman trying to free a snagged hook. The rope started to slip.

“No!” Meggie pumped her legs. She flailed for the surface and got a gloved hand up and onto the ground. She gave a final heave and got her other hand up to grab the surface, just as the rope slipped free.

All of Meggie’s weight was now on her fingertips and not the rope, but with 120 feet of length still dangling into the cave, it was enough to spool out of Kaitlyn’s hands like line tearing off the tip of a fishing pole when something hit the bait. The rope disappeared into the blackness below, and then jerked at Meggie’s boots where the vertical ascenders still gripped it. All that weight pulled down on her legs. She dangled by her fingertips, quickly losing strength.

“Please,” she gasped. “Help me.”

Kaitlyn squatted and looked down with a sneer. Their faces were only inches away. “Help yourself, Meggie. Isn’t that what you do best?”

As she stood, a broad, placid smile spread over her face. “Benjamin tied that rope. Looks like he did a poor job. But didn’t I ask
you
to double-check his knot? I think I did. What a tragedy.”
 

Meggie kept struggling through all this. She dug her boots at the wall, trying to get purchase. Her shoulders and arms were on fire, already injured from the ordeal at the bottom of the shaft, but she wasn’t letting go. She flailed up with her hand and caught hold of a woody trunk of a sagebrush that grew over the edge of the cave shaft. Its roots dug deep into the rock and soil and refused to let her fall.

Kaitlyn stood a few feet away, watching. Her smile faded as Meggie fought on, darkening to rage when it looked like her enemy would get one entire arm up and then fight to the surface. She walked back to the shaft, then bent and picked up a fist-sized rock.

Meggie stopped to catch her breath and prepare for a final heave out of the cave. She stared in terror as Kaitlyn squatted in front of her with the stone gripped in her hand.

“Don’t do this,” Meggie said. “Please. I’ll forget it. I won’t tell.” She gasped. “Won’t tell anyone.”

“I don’t believe you. I think you would tell.” She hoisted the rock above her head. “But I guess we’ll never know for sure.”

Kaitlyn slammed the rock down on Meggie’s hand. Meggie fell into the shaft.

On the hike back from the hot springs, Eric thought about the funny story Wes told him about the witch and the princess locked in the dungeon.

“That’s Meggie,” he said. “The evil witch made a dungeon in her mind.”

One of the other residents, a girl named Jilly, interrupted him to tell him a story about a witch with a walled garden and a man who sneaked inside to steal peaches for his wife. Then the witch caught him and took away the couple’s baby.

“I know that story,” Eric said. “The girl got locked in a tower. My brother read it to me.”

“No he didn’t,” Jilly insisted. “My Daddy made up that story, and it’s called Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Down Thy Hair.”

“I know that,” Eric scoffed. “Everyone knows that story.”

Jilly stomped ahead on the trail, then tripped on a sneaky root that came up from the ground. It was almost dark and there were lots of sneaky roots and scratching branches. Eric felt bad that he’d been mean, so he tried to help her up, but she pushed him away.

When Eric fell back, he remembered his brother’s story and he remembered something else, too. A chill shivered down his spine. He’d met the witch.

It was that mean woman. The one who wasn’t an aide and wasn’t a nurse. She wasn’t staff. She had called him names, then threatened him.

Don’t mess with me, Eric. And stay away from the pretty lady if you know what’s good for you.

Why didn’t he see it before? You didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes—even Watson could have known that. “It’s elementary, dumb-dumb.”

“
Hombre,
what’s wrong?” Diego asked.
 

Eric’s aide was bringing up the rear, hanging back a distance, like he wanted to be alone, but Eric kept walking slower and slower while he was thinking about princesses and witches.

“Mean woman,” he said. “She called me a retard.”

“That’s a bad word,” Diego said firmly. “And anyone who says it should be ignored. They’re not worth the time or effort. Wait, who told you that?”

Eric fell silent. Oops. Shouldn’t have said anything. He was going to blow his cover. Blowing your cover was a bad thing, very bad, especially in this case. If they found him out, bad things would happen not only to him, but to the pretty lady, too.

“Eric?” Diego said. “Who was it? One of the other residents?”

“Mean woman. Who does she think she is anyway? She’s the stupid dumb-dumb, not me.”

Diego stopped and took Eric’s sleeve. “Wait a minute. What’s going on here?”

Eric shrugged and tried to look confused. It was easier than he thought.

“Does this have something to do with your brother and his wife?”

“They’d never say that,” he said, outraged. “Take that back!”

“Whoa, there.
Hombre,
that’s not what I mean. Of course they wouldn’t. But I’m still asking myself questions, Ruk. You know I am. I’m seeing stuff and putting two and two together.”
 

“Two and two makes four.”

“Not always, Ruk. Sometimes they add up to a whole lot more.”

Diego started to walk again and Eric broke into a trot to catch up. It fascinated him that his aide might be doing his own investigation.

“What kind of questions?”

“Why is Usher giving this woman free rein of Colina Nublosa? People say she’s from corporate, but all I see is her snooping around, spending time with Meggie Kerr. And she’s got an eye on anyone talking to the woman, too.”

“Suspicious,” Eric agreed.

“Then a new guy shows up and starts acting funny.”

“What new guy? Who?”

Diego laughed. “
Hombre,
I’m talking about you.”
 

“Oh.” He felt foolish.

“It’s all right. I’m not making fun of you.”

“Do you think I’m up to no good?” Eric asked.

What if he did? Imagine if Diego thought
he
was the bad guy in this story.
 

“No, but I do think you’re up to
something
. Why don’t you fess up?”
 

“They told me not to.”

“Who did, your brother and his wife?”

Eric fell silent.

“You’re not a good liar, Ruk. You just shut your mouth, don’t you? Probably a good idea. In Spanish we say
en boca cerrada, no entran moscas.
Flies don’t enter a closed mouth.”
 

“What?”

“Like in English, better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than open it and remove all doubt.”

“But why would flies want to enter your mouth?”

“Never mind that. Okay, so your brother and his wife have something to do with that woman. Do they work for her?”

“Take that back!”

Diego blinked. “Sorry. What did I say?”

“She’s a mean woman. They would never work for her.”

“Ah, so they’re working
against
her. Got it.”
 

Eric was impressed. “Wow, you’re as good as Sherlock Holmes.”

“No,
hombre.
It was obvious. It was—”
 

“Elementary?”

Diego smiled. “Yeah, that. What does that woman want with Meggie?”

“She’s a bad witch. She is keeping Meggie in a dungeon.” Eric tapped his forehead. “Here, inside her mind.”

“No, she didn’t do that. Meggie fell a long time ago. She’s been like that for years.”

“But the woman won’t let her go. That’s why I need to take pictures. So we can show Uncle Davis.”

“Who is Uncle Davis?”

Wow, Diego was good. It went on like this, back and forth, with Diego prying out more information little by little. Every time Eric told him something new, he decided he wouldn’t say anything more. He’d keep the rest of his secrets. But then his aide would ask another question and Eric couldn’t stop himself. Before long, he’d told the man everything he could remember.

“So let me get this straight,” Diego said. “Your uncle is in a wheelchair and can’t talk.”

“His computer talks. He looks at words and the computer decides what Uncle Davis wants to say.”

“Never heard of that. That tech hasn’t come to Costa Rica, that’s for sure. So they run some sort of organization that digs up people with brain injuries and tries to get them help?”

“Yes.” Eric frowned. “Maybe? I don’t know.”

“And they found Meggie Kerr, and that’s what she’s got. But then this other woman has some sort of power over her and won’t let them give her treatment. So they want you to ask her questions, have her blink her eyes to show she’s awake and can answer, then they’ll force legal action. Is that about it?”

Eric stared, unable to answer. This was confusing.

“What a look on your face. Don’t worry about it. I think I’ve got it figured out. Got to admire their guts, sending in someone with a few . . . challenges to do the job.”

“What do you mean?”

“We all have challenges,
hombre.
No worries. When are you going to do it?”
 

“Do what?”

“Go after the lady,” he said, sounding a little impatient. “Sorry, I mean, you’ve got to get close to Meggie, ask her questions, then film it all. Right? When were you planning to do all of this?”

“With the butterflies. That’s where she was last time. I forgot the phone. It has a camera.”

“No good. Most of the time the wheelchair team is in the butterfly garden the aides are around. And even if they’re not, if you got Meggie away from the others, the garden is on the hillside in the middle of the grass. You can see every inch of it from anywhere on the grounds. Even from inside. If that woman is watching you, that’s the worst place to be. Better think of somewhere else.”

“Oh.” Eric put his hand into his hair and tugged at the roots.

Diego grabbed his hand and pulled it loose, then held it by the wrist until Eric relaxed. It was starting to rain, a gentle patter on the leaves overhead. None of the water was reaching the forest floor yet.

“It’s all right,” Diego said. “We’ll think of something.”

“I have to think of it myself. I’m undercover.”

“Suit yourself. Seems to me you could use help. Even Sherlock Holmes did. He had Doctor Watkins.”

“
Watson
. Doctor Watson of 221B Baker Street.”
 

“Right. I’ll help you. I can be your Watson.”

“Why would you do that? It might be dangerous.”

Diego looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. Maybe a chance to do something different. I’ve been here ten years, and pretty much every day is the same. Sometimes they die—they’re sick and they get sicker. Other times they get older and grayer and nothing ever changes. But nobody comes and gets better. Like you. You could be here ten years and you wouldn’t ever get better.”

“I’m not sick.”