Mining for Justice Page 25

  Chloe clenched her teeth and forced herself to stay silent as the arc of light got bigger. She held her breath, feeling every thudding beat of her heart, and slowly raised her arm.

  The first thing she saw was the man’s hand gripping the flashlight, held in front of his body. As he stepped into view Chloe tightened her hold on the sticking tommy and swung her arm with all the force she could muster.

  When the cast iron point struck flesh he screamed and dropped his flashlight. In the crazy swing of light she glimpsed a young man’s contorted face. One hand was pressed against his left shoulder. A bandana was tied pirate-style over his head.

  “Bitch!” Rita’s boyfriend gasped, sounding as incredulous as he did angry.

  Chloe struck again. Bandana Man stumbled backwards. His head struck stone. He grunted and slumped to the ground.

  She leapt over his legs and started back through the passage. She punched on the penlight but was rewarded with only a feeble yellow thread. I should have snatched his light, she realized, but no way was she turning around. Cell-deep instinct urged her forward: Go, go, go. Scrabble through this tunnel. Squeeze through this narrow bit. Scramble over this pile of rocks.

  Her light flickered again.

  She had no idea how close she was to the ladder. Maybe I can pull it up after me, she thought. She’d race back to Pendarvis, call 911, show the rescue squad and the cops the way to the hidden mine. Maybe Bandana Man wasn’t badly hurt, just unconscious.

  Her foot caught on a rock and she landed hard on one knee. The penlight slipped from her grasp. It blinked and went out. The blackness was overwhelming, without depth or shadow.

  An inarticulate bellow came from behind her. Shit. Bandana Man was after her again.

  Frenzied, Chloe pawed the gravel and mud around her. When she finally found the light she pushed the button. She punched it over and over, as if urgent need might override the physics of dead batteries. Nothing.

  She tried to rise, banged her head, fell back down. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the edge of her pursuer’s powerful light. He could see where he was going; she could not. No way could she outrun him. He’d be on her in moments, a whole lot angrier than he’d been before.

  “It’s good to be here,” Libby said. “The farm feels like a safe place.”

  “It is a safe place,” Roel­ke said. He and his cousin were sitting in lawn chairs behind his farmhouse, watching the kids play. Libby held a Leinies in one hand. Roel­ke was drinking iced tea, poured from a large jar in the fridge. Before going to Mineral Point, Chloe had made sun tea with mint sprigs for him. It was the kind of thing she did. Having even this ephemeral connection with her right now was good.

  Libby swirled her bottle, watching the lime wedge she’d pushed into the beer. “You’re sure you’re healing okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “No sign of infection? Or bleeding?”

  “No.”

  “We could still go—”

  “It’s okay, Libby. I’m being careful.”

  Justin ran over to join them. “Is dinner almost ready?”

  “Nope.” Libby ruffled his hair. “I haven’t even started the grill yet.”

  “Oh.” He looked disappointed, but turned and ran back to his sister. Justin chased Deirdre toward the garden, but before he could tag her she whirled and began chasing him. Justin paced his steps, running slowly so the little girl didn’t get discouraged.

  “Say, I promised to do a Scout thing with Justin on Sunday afternoon,” Libby said. “If you’re free, would you mind watching Deirdre for a few hours? I could leave her with a neighbor, but I’d rather leave her here.”

  “Sure,” Roel­ke said. “Chloe expects to be home by noon. She made Deirdre some kind of ballerina skirt, and has been waiting to give it to her. I know she’d be happy to babysit if I get called in to work or something.”

  “Everything go okay with that drug thing you’re working on?” Libby asked.

  “Yeah. The young woman made another buy today, no problem. Assuming the same thing happens tomorrow, we’ll hit the house. It could be big.” He was eager to stop this particular flow of drugs into Eagle. And if they found a big stash of cash, so much the better. A portion of whatever he found would eventually come back to the Eagle Police Department. Maybe next time the PD could afford to send two officers to special training programs, without having to beg the Police Committee for funds.

  “Just be careful, okay?” Libby asked quietly.

  “I’m always careful.” He saw the fear in her eyes and amended, “But I’ll be extra-careful tomorrow.”

  “Sorry.” She stared at the trees in the distance. “I’m just feeling … ” She lifted her free hand and let it drop.

  “Vulnerable?” This was the new Libby. Roel­ke wanted the old Libby back.

  The kids’ laughter floated over the lawn. It was a gray afternoon, clouds dulling the first bursts of gold and crimson in the forest beyond the fields. Something about it made Roel­ke’s heart ache.

  “Actually,” Libby said finally, “I feel helpless.”

  Roel­ke looked away. He felt defeated. All he’d ever aspired to do was be a good cop and take care of his family. It had never before occurred to him that he couldn’t manage both.

  And he’d been so damn cocksure. What had he told Adam? We have to trust the Palmyra cops to deal with Raymo if he goes too far. The fact that Libby is family doesn’t change that.

  But the Palmyra cops couldn’t touch Raymo. Worse, Raymo had bested him.

  Justin was chasing Deirdre, making roaring noises, hands raised like predatory claws. Deirdre laughed so hard she could hardly run.

  As Roel­ke watched the two children he loved, his bleak melancholy sparked to a hot flash of anger. He didn’t have the luxury of defeat, or fear.

  Something inside him shifted. He felt it so clearly that he was surprised that Libby hadn’t heard the click as everything he held sacrosanct, inviolable, hitched into a new alignment.

  “It’ll be okay,” he told her. “I really think it will.”

  I, Chloe thought, am screwed. She sank onto her butt, hearing her ragged breath in the stillness, sucking in stale air. She still clenched the sticking tommy, but he knew she had it now. It would be a lot tougher to land another blow.

  Suddenly she heard a primal groaning that emanated from the earth itself. Old support timbers shrieked as if in pain. A knocking sound pounded in her ears. She threw herself forward, half crawling, half scuttling, her free hand feeling the way in front of her. Something like hail pelted her. Dust swirled in the air, thick and gritty.

  Then a deafening roar filled the mine. Larger stones bounced against her. She curled into a fetal ball, arms tucked over her head, as the roof caved in.

  Chloe heard fearful little cries and realized they came from her. She expected a crushing blow any second. There was nothing to do but wait.

  After an eternity the noise faded as quickly as it had come. Dazed, Chloe lifted her head. She tasted grit and was wracked with a coughing spasm. Evidently she was still alive.

  She tried moving her arms, her legs. She felt battered and sore, but everything seemed to work.

  “Hey!” she yelled.

  No answer.

  Chloe crawled backwards and quickly hit rubble that had not been there before. She patted the huge stones, trying to get a sense of this new reality. She couldn’t find an opening. The collapse had plugged the passageway. “You okay back there?”

  Still no answer. Was Bandana Man trapped on the other side of the cave-in? Had he been buried? She had no idea, and there was nothing she could do for him.

  “Okay,” she said aloud. “Get moving.” It would not be easy to reach the ladder in sooty blackness, but she had no other choice. With one hand tracing the rock wall beside her, and the other extended high in front in hopes of prevent
ing a fatal cranial blow, she inched toward the entrance.

  She’d been closer than she’d dared hope. Almost imperceptibly, the darkness eased. One foot hit the ladder. She grabbed it with both hands. For a moment she leaned against the cool metal, half laughing and half crying. But she couldn’t linger.

  Climbing was a struggle. Chloe was scraped and banged and, frankly, trying not to freak out. “You can do this,” she muttered. Grab, step. Grab, step. She kept her head tipped back, gulping lungfuls of fresh air, heartened to leave the inky darkness behind and below. When she reached the surface she felt as triumphant as Sylvester Stallone climbing the museum steps in Rocky.

  Miraculously, the day looked much as it had when she’d left it. She stumbled down the hill, and jogged across the street and up to the rowhouse. The entry room was deserted. When she lurched into the second office, Evelyn and Claudia turned shocked faces her way.

  “Call 911,” Chloe gasped. “Tell them an old mineshaft on Dark Hill collapsed, and somebody’s either trapped inside or … ” She took a deep breath. “Or dead.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Evelyn reached for the phone.

  “Dear God, Chloe, what happened?” Claudia looked aghast. She still wore an 1840s dress and tidy white cap. “Who got trapped?”

  “Where’s Holly?” Chloe demanded. “Have you seen her lately?”

  “Why, I saw her not twenty minutes ago,” Claudia assured her. “Holly’s fine.”

  Thank God, Chloe thought. Limp with relief, she dropped into a chair. She held a palm up, waiting until she knew help was on the way. Then she explained how her search for Gerald had led her up Dark Hill, and how the sound of a child crying led her down the ladder.

  “An open mineshaft?” Claudia’s eyes were round. “On Pendarvis land?”

  “It’s very well hidden. And I swear, the sound of weeping was coming from it. I was afraid it was Holly. I found one of her dominoes near the entrance. But … there was no child down there.” Chloe hadn’t figured that part out yet. Her brain felt foggy. “I think I need to talk to the police before I say anything more.”

  “But … a cave-in?” Evelyn sounded horrified. “Dear heavens.”

  Claudia closed her eyes for a moment. “We’ve had so much rain this fall … ”

  “I’ve got to meet the first responders so I can show them where to find the shaft,” Chloe said. “Where’s Loren?”

  “I don’t know,” Evelyn said helplessly. “He’s been out all afternoon.”

  “He’ll show up sooner or later,” Claudia said. “Come on, Chloe. I’ll come with you.”

  They walked down to Shake Rag Street to wait for the responders—Investigator Higgins and a cop Chloe hadn’t met, rescue squad, firefighters. After giving a condensed version of her underground escapade, she led half a dozen people to the mineshaft.

  Claudia shook her head when Chloe held back branches and pointed to the hole. “Unbelievable.”

  “Holly and I walked by yesterday without noticing anything,” Chloe mused. “She must have dropped the domino then.”

  “Ms. Ellefson.” Higgins beckoned her aside. “Let’s let the experts take it from here. I’d like to go back down the hill and get your statement.”

  Once back on Shake Rag Street Chloe told him in more detail what had happened. “I didn’t get a good look at the guy chasing me. He wore a red bandana tied over his head, just like Rita’s boyfriend.”

  “Rita, the interpreter here?”

  Chloe nodded. Rita’s possible role in this mess was a sickening disappointment. She brought me tea! Chloe thought. She wanted to believe that the young interpreter was innocent, kept in the dark by her bad-boy boyfriend. But Rita was deep in debt, and earning minimum wage at a historic site that would soon close for the season—or altogether. She’d told Chloe she didn’t think it was safe to work on Dark Hill, which might have been part of the campaign to discourage visitors. Had Rita left the nasty note? Had she or her boyfriend been on the hill when Chloe ended up stuck in the badger hole, or the evening she’d seen the flickering light up there?

  Well, Chloe thought, all I can do is provide facts. She’d assumed the man in the mine was Rita’s boyfriend, but maybe not. Maybe lots of men in Mineral Point wore bandanas. The cops would sort it out.

  “Rita left early this afternoon,” Chloe told the investigator.

  “We’ll track her down.”

  Chloe was happy to let the cops pick the sordid tangles apart. “Anyway,” she concluded, “here’s the notebook I found hidden with the drugs.” She handed it over. Higgins had already confiscated the sticking tommy.

  “Well done,” he said quietly. “You can provide a written statement later. Right now, I want the EMTs to check you out.”

  Chloe felt battered, and knew she probably looked worse. “Okay.”

  After cleaning Chloe’s abrasions and bandaging the worst of them, one of the EMTs gave her a thumbs-up. “It’s all superficial,” he assured her. “You’ll ache for a while, but you’re fine.”

  Chloe was sitting on the back ledge of the rescue squad truck. “Thanks,” she said. “I appreciate it.” She stood, trying not to wince, and looked at Dark Hill. “Any word from the mine?”

  The man shook his head. “Nothing yet.”

  Chloe nodded. She felt strange. A little lightheaded. Things had been moving fast, but now she didn’t know what to do. Claudia remained with the responders as site representative, but Chloe felt no desire to go back herself. She needed time to sort out what had happened up there.

  The cave-in had come exactly when and where she needed it. If it hadn’t happened, she’d likely be dead by now. Chilling thought.

  Maybe the recent incessant rains had, as Claudia suggested, caused part of the ceiling to collapse, and the timing was pure coincidence. Maybe an old miner had been looking out for her. Heck, maybe she’d been protected because she’d tossed her pasty crust aside for a starving knacker.

  She would never know. But she did understand that the Cornish miners had named the hill well. Mena Dhu, she thought, staring across the street. Dark Hill.

  She glanced at her watch. The site was due to close soon. I better check in with Evelyn, Chloe thought. Then she could go to Tamsin’s place, take a bath, call Roel­ke, and go to bed. That notion was so appealing that tears brimmed in her eyes. She swiped them away and plodded up to the rowhouse.

  “Still no sign of Loren,” Evelyn reported, glancing toward the director’s silent office with a hint of reproach.

  That was odd. “Did Gerald show up?”

  “Haven’t seen him.”

  Chloe had no idea what to make of that, either. But she was too tired to worry about it. “Okay. Claudia’s still on the hill. I’m going home.”

  “Um … ” Evelyn looked apologetic. “The woman in the gift shop called right before you got back. She wanted to know who’s taking responsibility for the cash.”

  “Audrey told me she’s handled it before.”

  “Audrey isn’t on today. It’s someone new.”

  There’s no one else, Chloe thought wearily. Claudia was on the hill. Loren and Gerald had disappeared. Rita was, for all Chloe knew, in police custody. Lovely. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you.” Evelyn nodded.

  Chloe walked around to the gift shop entrance and found a plump woman with longish brown hair and an impatient expression waiting expectantly behind the counter.

  “You can go,” Chloe said without preamble. She didn’t have the energy for chitchat.

  “Oh!” The other woman clearly hadn’t expected that. “Thanks.”

  Chloe had no idea what the procedure was for checking for errors and depositing the money. She also didn’t know how to use the cash register, which was old enough to be accessioned. She walked around the counter, settled on the stool, and tried to open the regis
ter. No cheerful ding, no cash drawer sliding from the inner regions. Shit. Well, the cash would just have to stay where it was.

  Although the shop was officially open for another half hour, no one else was there. Chloe closed her eyes, trying to center herself in the blessedly peaceful stillness. But her thoughts whirled like a cyclone. What was happening on the hill? Was Bandana Man dead or alive? How much damage had she done with the miners’ candlestick? The feel of iron spike meeting flesh and bone had become a visceral memory, the moment replaying in not just her mind but her hand and arm, her muscles and bone. He threatened to kill me, she reminded herself, but that didn’t make her feel better.

  She hoped the cave-in hadn’t buried the drug cache. At least she’d saved the notebook that seemed to label Dr. Yvonne Miller as a buyer. Her bizarre druggie status presented a new angle for Higgins to investigate. Had Miller not paid Bandana Man what she owed? Had she threatened to expose him? Had he slipped onto the site Wednesday morning, caught her alone, and pushed her to her death? It was possible.

  “But it’s not that simple,” Chloe muttered. If Yvonne Miller’s death was related to some deal-gone-bad with a crack seller, there was no good reason why her green journal had disappeared. Surely Miller wouldn’t have documented drug use in a journal she’d used for academic notes.

  Claudia had seen Yvonne with her journal the morning she died. By the time the cops arrived, the notebook had disappeared. Cops had searched the site without finding it.

  Chloe thought about that for a while, unmoving. Finally she straightened, pulled her own notebook out, and opened to the page where she’d made notes about Miller’s death. Yvonne Miller had been using the green journal to compile research notes for her book. Her research must have uncovered something so disturbing that someone was willing to steal, and perhaps even to kill, to get it.

  Chloe chewed on the end of the pen.

  Book might tarnish Pendarvis’s reputation, providing fuel to those who want to close the site

  Most people in town didn’t want Pendarvis to be closed. If it was possible for someone to slip onto the site unseen that morning to accost Yvonne, that theory pointed suspicious fingers at Winter, Pendarvis staff, and a whole lot of local residents.