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Mosayru Lodge, Grand Canyon Village
CROWLEY FELT TERRIBLE for Rose, but a sense of relief pervaded his concern. While she had made a thoroughly stupid mistake out there on the trail, she hadn’t died. When it came to it, her cool head had prevailed even if she had had to melt down afterward. And that was where the relief lay. He thought perhaps she had needed that outlet, the steam valve blowing on her emotional pressure cooker. All this was hard enough for him but, just like before with the Landvik stuff, it was personal to Rose. She had no way out of it, her sister’s life at stake. Given that nothing worse than scratches and bruises had occurred, he was glad she’d had the chance to blow out.
He found a place for them to stay and plan, the Mosayru Lodge in Grand Canyon Village, near the south rim. It was a solid two-story adobe-style building on the outside, but inside had all the trappings of the classic hunting-lodge. Cedar paneling on the walls reflected soft light from antler chandeliers, deer heads protruded from the walls. There was a huge common room, packed with opulent armchairs and couches and a big fireplace crackled in a deep, gray stone hearth.
Their room was simple but comfortable with two large single beds and a desk, TV, clean bathroom. Crowley had given up wondering if they might eventually share a double bed. All things in time. Once they were checked in, Rose excused herself to clean up. She yelped with delight on seeing the big tub in the bathroom.
“I’m going to soak in here for a while!”
Crowley smiled. That would no doubt feel good. “Sure thing.”
He laid back on one of the beds and let himself drift in and out of a light doze for a while until movement brought him around again. Rose sat on the edge of his bed.
“Can you help me?”
He coughed to clear his throat, thick from dozing, pulled himself into a sitting position. She wore a heavy toweling robe, her smooth legs visible from its hem, slim feet bare. “Of course, what do you need?”
She smiled uncertainly. “Now, no funny business, okay? I need you to check some wounds.”
Crowley steadied himself. “All right.”
She paused, then dropped the robe off her shoulders. She wore a smooth black bra underneath, no lace, but a provocative cut. Her skin was smooth and lightly tanned, her shape enough to make the breath catch in Crowley’s throat. He shifted uncomfortably to a more suitable position.
There were long grazes up the left side of her flat stomach, under both forearms and across her left shoulder. “Here,” she said, pointing to the shoulder.
Mustering all his self-control, Crowley leaned forward for a better look. It was a nasty abrasion, leaking plasma in a few places where she had managed to take off most layers of skin. She held up a make-up removal pad and a bottle of disinfectant.
Crowley took the items and cleaned a few last bits of sand from the wound carefully while she hissed between her teeth.
“Stings?” he asked.
She nodded, looking past him, towards the windows and the wan late afternoon light spilling in.
“You have a dressing?” he asked. “Or I can get one.”
“Here.” She held out some first aid kit gauze and micropore tape. Crowley put some soothing cream onto the clean wound, then dressed it neatly. He looked down at her stomach, but she quickly pulled the robe up and closed it.
“I did that. It’s just hard to see my shoulder well enough to do it one-handed, you know?”
“Of course.”
“I did my arms and knees too,” she said. She sounded almost apologetic.
Crowley smiled, tried to let her know with that look that he was okay with help she needed, or whatever space. “Cool.”
She leaned forward, kissed his cheek, long and lingering. Her lips were hot. “Thank you, Jake.”
He forced a weak smile, unsure what to say. The silence between them stretched as they watched each other. Crowley lost himself in her large eyes, imagined running his hands over that smooth flesh she had so recently covered up. He couldn’t help himself picturing it.
The silence threatened to grow uncomfortable, then Rose drew in a breath through her nose. She kissed his cheek again, quick and almost perfunctory this time, and the moment passed.
“Let’s get dressed and go downstairs for something to eat,” she said.
Crowley nodded, wondering if he might need a cold shower first. “Good plan,” he said instead.
Fifteen minutes later they sat side by side in one of the large leather couches by the gently crackling fire. Only two other people shared the common room with them, an elderly couple facing each other over a dark, scratched wooden table, playing backgammon. The couple murmured to each other, but were too far away to be overheard.
Crowley sipped the tea they had ordered and grimaced. “American tea.”
Rose looked down at her cup with an expression of mild insult. “Yeah. You wouldn’t think it would be so hard to get right.” She picked up a pastry, dusted with bright white icing sugar and took a large bite. She smiled as she chewed. “These though. These they get right.”
Crowley’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out. “Cameron,” he said, after glancing at the screen. “What’s happening, my brother from another mother?”
Rose frowned, half-laughing, shook her head. Crowley gave her a What? look, and grinned.
“Jakey-boy,” Cameron said. “Everything okay with you guys?”
“Yeah, pretty much okay but we could really do with some good news from you. We’re in a cul-de-sac right here.”
“Well, I’m still working on possible locations for the entrance to this lost city of yours. There are just so many variables. We have no way of knowing which details are authentic and which are false. Right now I could give you at least a dozen locations scattered over various sections of the canyon.”
“The Grand Canyon is a good 450 kilometers long,” Crowley said.
“Right. So you see the problem. However, this Seth Tanner fellow is interesting.”
Crowley let out a sound of frustration. “We tried the Tanner Trail today. Amazing, breathtaking. But a complete dead end.”
“Hmmm. Well, I think there’s maybe more there,” Cameron said. “I’d really like to find out what Tanner knew that led the natives to blind him.”
Crowley sat up from his slump in the couch, suddenly interested. “Wait, what?”
“You didn’t know that?” Cameron said, clearly surprised. “Then again, it’s not something you’d find in a Wikipedia entry.”
“Hey,” Crowley said, choosing not to ignore the insult to his research efforts. “Sit on something and swivel!”
“Well, if you don’t want to know...”
Crowley laughed. “Of course I do. Spill it.” Rose leaned forward, gave Crowley a questioning look. He smiled. “Hang on, old Cam might have got a lead for us. Go on, mate.”
“Okay. Well, late in his life, Tanner went exploring in a remote part of the Grand Canyon. Apparently, he stumbled across a place that he shouldn’t have been.”
“What kind of place?”
“That’s just it!” Cameron’s frustration was clear in his tone. “I’m not sure, but it’s a safe bet that whatever it was, it was either sacred, dangerous, or both. So much so that the Hopi blinded Tanner so he’d never be able to find his way back, or lead anyone there. And what’s more, they threatened to cut out his tongue if he ever told anyone. That’s got to be something worth us finding out about, right?”
Crowley thought about it. Sacred and deadly certainly could describe the Egyptian city, should the thing really exist. And they had to operate on the assumption that it did. But how did any of this help, without knowing more? “So did he take the story to his grave?” he asked.
“Not that I’ve found so far,” Cameron said. “That’s not to say he didn’t, but a copy of his journal turned up a few years ago. It’s now in the collection of the Pioneer Museum in Flagstaff. It appears no one has found it important enough to report on its contents, much less digitize it and put it online.”
“If he was blind, he’d have had a hard time writing in a journal,” Crowley said.
“But he could have dictated to someone else, if he did manage to keep his tongue. I’m just saying it would be worth a look.”
Crowley had to agree with Cameron there.
“If there are any hints in there about where he went,” Cameron said, “I might be able to use those to make sense of the lost city clues I’ve found so far. Maybe determine which are false trails and which might be worth your time following up. “
“We might as well take a look,” Crowley agreed. “We’ve nothing better to do at the moment.”
“Do I detect a note of judgment in your voice?” Cameron joked.
“Frustration, mate, that’s all.”
Cameron’s voice grew serious. “Don’t get complacent, Crowley.”
“Like I ever do!”
“I’m not kidding. Let’s not forget what happened in Denver. Your false identity has kept you off their radar for the moment, but if the lost city is truly what they’re after, you’re bound to encounter them sooner or later. They won’t be leaving this alone or dragging their feet. And I guarantee you, if they’re willing to kill over it, this is about more than some antiquities.”
A sense of dread crept over Crowley. “In other words,” he said, “don’t sit around waiting.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You’re right. Thanks, mate. Leave it with us. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Be careful!”
“We will.” Crowley hung up the phone and stood decisively.
“What did you learn?” Rose asked.
“I’ll tell you on the way.”
She frowned. “On the way where? Where are we going?”
Crowley grinned, took her hand to pull her up. “To steal something.”