CHAPTER

31

I drove north on the ranch road for two miles, turned west and traveled for another mile or so along an unmaintained road peppered with potholes. Harvel had informed me that I would be able to see the skull rock perched on the east side of the hill and that it was within easy walking distance if I chose to trespass. What was that old axiom my grandmother used to say? It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Even though I’d already seen the painted rock in the photo, a little shudder forked through me when the hideous face jumped into view. What kind of mind would create something so repulsive? The black empty sockets set against the white face seemed to stare right through me and the twisted, demonic smile raised a host of goose bumps on my arms. And the really disquieting fact was that it looked freshly painted. Sick. The Hinkles were definitely sick.

Less than a quarter of a mile later, I coasted to a stop in front of the infamous gate where a prominently posted sign screamed out: NO ENTRY! PRIVATE PROPERTY, NO TRESPASSING! VIOLATORS WILL BE PROSECUTED!

According to Harvel, the distance to the old mine entrance at the top of the rocky mound was less than a mile from the gate. I’d best not waste a minute.

Serenaded by the song of the relentless wind whipping through the mesquite, scrub oak and nearby palo verde trees, I prepared for my hike, gathering my down jacket, gloves and stocking cap. Primed to get out, my gaze strayed to the creepy-looking skull face and I stopped. How sane was it to wander off alone with a winter storm bearing down? It had always been my nature to be impulsive. I had never shied away from entangling myself in perilous situations in order to scoop an intriguing story. I thrived on the challenge, endorphins and adrenalin rush. I loved it. It was a high like no other. But, should I permit my zeal to overrule common sense?

I pulled my hand away from the door handle, unable to understand my sudden hesitancy. Did this inexplicable restraint have anything to do with the fact that I was engaged to be married now and should begin thinking twice before charging into possibly dicey circumstances? Was Tally’s calm logic and quiet urging to examine my priorities beginning to rub off on me? Should I follow my heart and check out the old mine or use my head and go home? With a deep sigh of disappointment, I made the decision to pack it in.

I turned the Jeep around and headed towards the Bumble Bee road. Whatever was going on out here would have to keep until another time. I’d no sooner passed through Cleator than I heard the familiar drone of quads. I flicked a startled glance in the rearview mirror and sure enough there he was again—my stalker. But this time he had an accomplice who wore an evil clown mask. “Are you kidding me?” I murmured as a feeling of dark certainty consumed me. They had obviously been waiting for me. My apprehension increased when I stepped on the gas. My stalker stayed right on my tail while the second rider sped past me and stayed right in front of me. If I’d had any doubt that someone wanted me out of town, I no longer did.

Part of me wanted to stop and confront them. But how wise would that be? I couldn’t really even report it because I had no idea of their identities. It wasn’t against the law to wear a mask. Could I prove they were harassing me and not just having a little fun? “I’m leaving now!” I shouted. “You can stop following me!”

But they didn’t. I was escorted all the way to the freeway on-ramp. Their mission accomplished, they swung around and vanished around the curve. Grimly, I promised myself that at some point I’d return and delve into this baffling story again. I’d driven no more than a mile when my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID, surprised to see my mother’s name displayed. She hardly ever called me on her cell phone. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”

“Not good.” Her clipped tone put me on alert.

“Is Dad all right?”

“Yes, yes. He’s finally sleeping.”

“You sound upset. What’s going on?” I pressed.

“It’s your brother.”

“Oh my. What’s he done now?”

“He’s gone.”

A little tremor of concern raced through me. “What do you mean he’s gone?”

“I mean he’s gone!” came her harsh reply. “Disappeared. After Tally dropped us off we had a huge fight.” She paused, then added, “I can’t handle these wild mood swings any more. He acts like someone I don’t even know.”

“Mom, you do realize he’s got a drug problem, right?”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she informed me, her voice raising an octave. “Sean said he’s got a job offer here and he’s not coming home.”

“A job offer? That’s crazy! Doesn’t he have to go back and face charges?”

“Of course he does!” She fell silent for a few seconds, and when she spoke again her voice quavered with emotion. “If he skips out on bail it will disastrous! He’ll be in even worse trouble and the authorities will send a bounty hunter after him. He’s going to ruin your father’s reputation!” she shrieked, her voice breaking. “And…this could ruin us financially.”

“What do you mean?”

“We borrowed money and mortgaged the house to post his bail.”

Furious with my brother’s rash behavior, I listened to her heart-wrenching sobs. “Hang in there, Mom. I’ll be back in an hour and a half. He can’t have gone far on foot.”

“He…he wasn’t on foot. I saw him come out of his room with two men. He was stumbling around and talking gibberish. They all left together in a pickup.”

A sickening stomach plunge. Breathlessly, I asked, “What color was it?”

“What?”

“The truck! What color was it?”

“Black.”

“What time did they leave?”

“I don’t know. Maybe one-thirty.” Plaintively, she added, “Where could he be? We’re worried sick about him.”

And with good reason. Who knows what kind of a drug he’d taken this time? My heart ached remembering the horrific stories I’d read online describing the fate of teens and young adults who had experimented with unknown combinations of illegal drugs. Some had ended up in a coma while others suffered a horrible death. The memory of the Hinkles’ pickup streaking past me on the Bumble Bee road flashed through my mind. “Don’t worry, Mom. I have a pretty good idea where he might be.”

Amped up on adrenalin and not really sure what I was going to do, I took the Black Canyon City exit, crossed under the freeway and reversed course back towards the McCracken Ranch, my thoughts churning madly. Was there any doubt that the only job the Hinkles could possibly offer Sean would be dealing drugs? Everything seemed to point in that direction. And there was no question someone didn’t want me there snooping around. It was a well-known fact to law enforcement agencies that there was an abundance of people cooking meth in isolated communities all over Arizona. I had no doubt that I’d witnessed a drug deal going down in Jerome on Saturday. If the Hinkles were running a lab someplace, how did that involve the gravel company? Is that what Nathan and Jenessa had stumbled across? Without proof it was pure speculation, but seemed a likely scenario.

My brain was on overload, sifting through all the clues I’d garnered since first hearing about Jenessa. I tore along the Bumble Bee road for the second time that day and stared up at the misty peaks. “What is it?” I whispered. “What am I missing?”

And then all at once the answer to the puzzle hit me like a sharp blow to the stomach. “Holeee crap!” It had been in front of me all along—the common denominator linking the four supposedly accidental deaths. They had all been in the vicinity of the Raven Creek Sand and Gravel Company and they had all stumbled upon something they weren’t supposed to see. My heart began to thump erratically and I broke into a cold sweat. If Jack Loomis was lying about the status of the Thunderbolt, then the nocturnal activity at the vertical mine became a key element. There had to be something more than rock crushing going on out there. And with the Hinkle twins involved, I had a strong suspicion it must be drug-related. Did that explain the lights on the hill at night? Were they hosting desert rave parties to serve copious quantities of illegal substances? Then another thought occurred to me. What if the victims had taken photos of something incriminating? Would that explain the missing cell phones and the blank memory card taken from Luke Campbell’s camera? My mind swam with possibilities. The more I thought about it, the more my insides burned with excitement. But, this time I would be smart. No running willy-nilly into danger as I’d done on my last four assignments. This time I would keep the solemn promise Tally had extracted from me and alert the sheriff before striking out on my own.

I pressed my phone button. “Call Marshall Turnbull.” It rang four times and went to voicemail. Damn! I left a voice message explaining where I was going and then called his office. Julie answered tersely, “Sheriff’s Office.”

“It’s Kendall. Is Marshall in?”

“No.”

“How about Duane?”

“They’re both out investigating a fatal accident on 89. A wrong-way driver plowed into a family in a minivan. Two of the kids were killed. They’re going to be a while.”

“That’s terrible.” I chewed my lower lip for a few seconds. “Well, when Marshall is available tell him I think he should check out the Raven Creek Sand and Gravel Company. There’s something weird going on there.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. But it’s possible there may be some connection to Jenessa Wooten’s death. He should get a search warrant.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Uh…no.”

Silence. “Well, he’s got to show probable cause to get it. What is he looking for?”

“I’m not sure yet.” I must have sounded lame. I checked the time on the dashboard. Less than two hours of daylight remained.

“So, what do you want me to tell him?” Julie persisted with an undertone of impatience entering her voice.

“It’s just a guess, but the Hinkle brothers may be running a meth lab or something there.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks, Julie.”

One thing I knew for certain. I couldn’t drive through the front gate of the gravel company, so I’d do the next best thing and sneak in the back way. I retraced my route to the ranch and when the gate appeared, I pulled off the road and maneuvered the Jeep into a secluded grove of scrub oaks. Armed with my .38 in one pocket of my jacket and my phone and car keys in the other, I slipped through the barbed wire. I was now officially trespassing. I zigzagged my way up the steep rock-and-cactus covered hill, keeping an eye on the advancing clouds that had finally snuffed out the sunlight, casting dark shadows over the mountain. The swift plunge in temperature had me zipping the jacket up to my chin as the first snowflakes pelted my cheeks. But I hardly felt them. Seething with fury, heat radiated throughout my entire body. I could gladly strangle Sean for his irresponsible behavior. He couldn’t possibly be in his right mind to think he could skip out on bail and ignore the fact that he had serious charges pending against him back in Pennsylvania. But then, if he was wasted on whatever drug he was experimenting with now, he probably wasn’t thinking rationally.

Within minutes I arrived at the painted skeleton rock. It was gigantic and downright spooky up close. What I hadn’t seen in the photo or from my vantage point below was the multitude of expletives, lewd pictures and satanic symbols carved into it. Repulsive. Nauseating. Hideous. No question. The Hinkle brothers bordered on psychopathic. Little wonder Elizabeth didn’t want them anywhere near her and why everyone else referred to them as bad news. And now they had lured my drug-addled brother into their seamy clutches. At that moment I loved and hated Sean equally. What a friggin’ mess he’d caused!

My heart pounded with exertion as the hill grew steeper, but I could now clearly see the splintered wood on the old head frame looming above the limestone rock outcropping. I sprinted the last few hundred yards and arrived at the mouth of the old mine, which was liberally sprinkled with warning signs to stay away. A makeshift chain-link fence surrounded the dark hole. I moved forward for a better look and that’s when I heard a whining roar from behind that turned my blood to ice water. Oh my God! For precious seconds indecision held me immobile before I got my mushy legs to cooperate. I broke into a run, frantically searching for a hiding place, finally flattening myself to the ground behind a thicket of mesquite bushes nanoseconds before an off-road vehicle rumbled to a stop. Laughter and masculine shouts reached my ears. With a stab of alarm, I recognized the familiar voices of the Hinkle brothers. Would they hear my tortured breathing? Did I dare even look up? I had to. Ever so slightly, I raised my head and had to stifle a horrified gasp at the sight of my brother seated in the quad with the two men. Sean looked completely out of it, his face ghostly white, his eyes glazed and unfocused. Danny and Daryl hopped out, but when Sean tried, he stumbled and fell to the ground like a rag doll and flailed about, speaking gibberish. The Hinkles turned to glare down at him. “The dude’s not supposed to be sampling the shit, he’s supposed to sell it!” Danny stated in a disgusted tone, eyeing his brother coldly.

Daryl gave him a sideways grin. “He’s really trippin’ out on it.”

“How much did you give him?”

“Hey, don’t blame me. I told him it was something new and to go easy.”

Danny’s upper lip curled into a sneer. “You dumbass! The big man is coming today. We can’t have this guy checkin’ out on us or we’re gonna be up shit creek!”

“It was your idea to bring his ass here, not mine,” Daryl shot back, punching his brother in the shoulder.

Danny swiped his hand away. “You better keep an eye on him. Come on, we gotta get this stuff unloaded.” He pulled a box from the floor of the quad, shoved it under one arm and handed another one to Daryl before moving a section of the fencing aside. “Bring him over here,” he demanded curtly.

“Come on, bro, get it together.” Daryl reached down, dragged Sean to his feet and pushed him towards the mine opening, where Sean teetered dangerously on the edge. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to jump up and race to his side. Danny leaned over and yelled into the opening, “Catch!” then dropped the boxes. Then he climbed down into the hole and reached up to grab Sean’s arm, shouting, “Put your foot on the ladder, dude!” Working together, the Hinkles managed to pull him down and then all three of them disappeared from sight. I had never felt so utterly helpless.

The snow was coming down heavier now and for another few minutes, I laid on the ground, shivering from dread as much as the cold. What kind of drug had they given Sean? Had they been seriously discussing the possibility that he might die? I waited another few minutes to see if they’d return, then cautiously rose to my feet. The knowledge that Sean was in grave danger made my heart shrivel in horror. Stiff from the cold, I ran to the edge of the mine opening and peeked down. I couldn’t see anything, but could hear the hum of what might be a generator operating below. A peculiar odor wafted up the shaft along with the echo of masculine laughter. What was the right decision? Storm down the ladder and try to rescue my baby brother or run for help? Torn, I crouched in the fierce wind for another minute before deciding it would be sheer insanity for me to play the hero. No. Not this time. I had no idea what I’d be getting myself into if I followed him down the mineshaft. I took a few deep breaths of the icy air. I must not panic and do something stupid. Call! Call for help. I sprinted further up the hill, pulled off one glove, dug out my phone and dialed 911. Nothing. I wiped the snow off the screen and my heart sank. CALL FAILED. I dialed again. Nothing. I must be in one of the dead zones. Now what? I turned and charged downhill in the blinding snow, slipping and sliding, gasping for breath, trying to suppress the sobs rising in my throat. I had to get to the Jeep. I had to get help.

I figured I was about half way down when I saw the skull rock, barely visible in the blowing snow. And then my toe struck something. I pitched forward, my phone flying from my icy fingers. I landed hard and crashed into a rock or tree stump. I could actually hear the sickening crack of my arm breaking. For I don’t know how long, I lay there in a daze and then pushed to my knees. I’d never had a broken bone before. I expected to feel pain, and perhaps it was the adrenalin or the freezing cold or both, but strangely all I felt was numbness. It was more disturbing to me that I’d lost my phone. Groping on the ground, I searched around for it, but with more than an inch of snow already accumulated I knew I was wasting valuable time. Forget the phone! Get to the Jeep!

I tucked my left hand into my pocket for support and continued downward, moving a little slower now, finally feeling the dull throbbing in my arm. What a boneheaded move that was, O’Dell! The bare outline of the open gate brought a measure of relief, but it was short-lived. Fear coiled around my heart when the dreaded sound of more quads met my ears. Get to the Jeep! With nowhere to hide, I made a mad dash towards the trees, fumbling for my keys. Behind me, the whining drone grew to a deafening roar and then deadly silence before the thud of footsteps. “We got ourselves a trespasser!” came a triumphant shout. I pushed myself as hard as I could, but the footsteps were now directly behind me. All the air rushed from my lungs when powerful arms wrapped around me.

“Take your hands off me!” I screamed, struggling mightily, jabbing my attacker in the ribs with my right elbow, struggling and kicking until we both went down. I face-planted on the snowy ground. Pinned down, his added weight on top of me generated a searing pain in my broken arm so intense it brought tears to my eyes. Don’t pass out!

Grunting and panting with exertion, the man wrestled me onto my back and straddled me. Gasping, I looked up into the face of a young guy probably around my age. The futility of my dire situation came home to me when a second man appeared and stared down at me with a malevolent grin. “Well, lookee who we got here.” He reached down and whipped my stocking cap off. “You should’ve stayed gone!” I squinted up through the blowing snow, almost certain I was seeing my stalker’s face for the first time without the kerchief. He was actually not bad-looking. A pity he had such menacing dark eyes.

The first guy rolled off, grabbed my injured arm and yanked me to my feet. “Come on. We’re goin’ for a little ride,” he announced, tightening his grip. Nauseated from the blinding pain, I swayed dizzily trying to gather my wits. And then I remembered the gun in my jacket pocket. Everything seemed surreal, like a scene from a movie, like it was happening to someone else. I needed to keep a cool head. Perhaps a show of bravado would put them off balance.

“A lot of people, including the sheriff, know I’m here, so I’m not going anywhere with you two freaks,” I replied firmly, sliding my right hand into my pocket. But just as my finger curled around the trigger, he jerked my arm and slammed me against the quad.

“You’re lying! Get in!” he shouted through gritted teeth.

My stalker jumped behind the wheel and revved the engine. It was now or never. There was no time to pull out my weapon and take steady aim like I was accustomed to doing at the shooting range. There wasn’t even time to pull it out of my pocket, so I just turned and fired a round through my jacket. His face a frozen mask of dumbfounded rage, my attacker released me and lurched backwards.

“She shot me!” he shrieked, clutching his thigh. “The bitch shot me!” He slumped into the snow, moaning. Inanely, I marveled at how red his blood looked against the pristine white snow. I turned towards my stalker, but before I could fire off another round, he leaped from behind the wheel and knocked me to the ground again. I lost my grip on the trigger. In a frantic fight for my life, I bit, clawed and kicked. Teeth bared, his face contorted in rage, he punched me in the jaw, then followed up with a vicious bare-knuckled blow to my temple and a second to my left eye. A kaleidoscope of stars exploded in my head. And then he had his cold hands around my throat, squeezing hard. Desperate for air, I fought valiantly to remain conscious, only vaguely aware that another vehicle had arrived. My vision already blurred, the landscape began to spiral in a circle. I knew I was going to die, but I was too weakened to fight him off. Black. Everything was going black.

But then I heard a masculine voice shout, “Stop it, you fool!” and my stalker released his hold. “Get him out of here!”

I gulped in deep breaths of the blessed cold air and tried to move, but the combination of searing pain in my arm, jaw and head was so severe, I felt myself losing consciousness.

“Drink this,” said the kindly voice, cradling my head. I swallowed the hot liquid gratefully. He stroked my hair. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you suffer.”

What? What did that mean? My ears were ringing so loud I couldn’t quite recognize the voice. It sounded familiar. Who was it? I strained to open my eyes, but my lids felt massive. It didn’t matter. I was saved. I welcomed the blissful peace washing over me, the ebbing of pain. On some level I was aware of being carried by someone and lying on something soft and being warm again. I had the sense of being in a different place, a strange place, a hazy awareness of movement, of a lightness of being. Euphoric beyond anything I had ever experienced. I was flying now, soaring high above brilliantly colored hills that shone like jewels, deep valleys and shining streams among a flock of black ravens. I had wings! How cool was this? I wouldn’t have minded staying there forever, but then, the dream was interrupted by the sound of new voices, this time muffled and far away as if spoken from another room. I tried to understand, but the words made no sense. Was I hallucinating? I simply could not put a cogent thought together, so I gave up and faded into a comforting, velvety soft abyss.

Time. I was aware of the passage of time. Again, I struggled to open my eyes and when I finally managed to crack them open a slit, I fought to understand where I was. I wasn’t outside in the snow anymore. I was lying in a small, dimly lit room made of rock. Rock walls. Rock ceiling. Where was I? How had I gotten here? I couldn’t seem to differentiate between the mishmash of distorted memories, dreams and reality. Why did I feel so woozy and disoriented? I slept again for an indeterminate amount of time and when I awoke again my mind felt clearer.

My insides trembled as the memories of my attack came rushing back full force and the dim recollection of someone coming to my rescue. Sean? What had happened to Sean? I heard the rustle of clothing and, instinctively sensing danger, closed my eyes again. I turned my head slightly at the sound of footsteps passing by my head and peered through half open lids. Golden light poured through an arched doorway illuminating a man’s silhouette. I remained perfectly still, feigning unconsciousness, but almost gasped aloud when he stepped into the next room and the light struck his face. My rescuer was none other than Burton Carr.