Chapter One

Montana, A Few Weeks Later

“I can’t believe we’re riding in eighty-degree weather with no air conditioning. You have gone completely insane this time, Cayce. Actually, I’ve gone insane to be riding with you in this old truck. What year did you say it is?”

“It’s a fifty-two, too near our age to criticize, I’m afraid.” Cayce smiled, then gave Harri a quick glance. “And we’re still going strong.”

“Easy for you to say, dear sister. You run a ranch and throw fifty-pound bags of horse feed over your shoulder. I run The Teacake, a very genteel teahouse, keep the air conditioner set on sixty-eight degrees, prefer silk to denim, and don’t lift anything heavier than my make-up bag.” The truck hit a pothole and knocked her against the door. With a deep sigh, she stared at the side of Cayce’s grinning face. “Take a lesson—you’re a woman first, a cowpoke second, or make that last.”

“Yes, but not a weak damsel. One of us has to be strong, considering the messes we get ourselves into. Actually, it’s our connection with the living dead that gets us into messes.” The sisters’ father had been the giver of their “Gift” that often landed them in trouble.

“Speaking of messes, what mess is it your lover boy is getting us into?”

“Joshua is a best friend—you being first best as well as sister—and he is lover boy second, although that identity could move up if he’s ever available. Anyway, he wants us to check out this ghost town in Idaho he has purchased. He’s restoring it, making it into a place where lovers of the Old West can come and relive history.”

“And that involves us how?” Harri gave her sister the questioning sideways stare, her eyebrows wrinkled.

“Joshua has had workers up there for months restoring three of the old buildings, but the crew has run into a few problems of the paranormal variety.” Cayce pulled her sunglasses down her nose and gave Harri the look that yelled, “Here we go again!”

“Before you even begin to tell me what’s going on there, what’s the name of this ghost town, and what’s the history? I can probably surmise who is lingering from that.”

“The name of the ghost town is Bar None. Catchy, huh?” Cayce lifted her eyebrows, matching Harri’s cynical look. “Actually, I’ve got a document from the County Historical Society that pretty much covers the history, but since I know you hate to read while riding—especially in a bumpy old truck—I’ll hit the highlights for you.”

As if Cayce needed justification for her statement, she swerved the old truck, but not soon enough to prevent hitting another pothole in the highway.

Harri clenched her lips and held a death grip on the seat and door.

“Dear Lord! I don’t know if my bladder can adapt to this.” Harri lifted herself to sit with one leg under her. “Keep quiet while I count. If I start the Kegel now, maybe I can make it for two weeks, or however long we’re out here.” She counted while Cayce shook her head and laughed. “Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty. How about we stop and rent a nice SUV? I’ll spring for it.” Harri put on her best begging look, hoping her sister would run with it.

“My trip, my choice, and you already know what the answer is. Besides, Hawk, here, has taken me on much worse trips than this and made it just fine.” Cayce rubbed her hand across the dashboard as if caressing the old truck.

“You named your truck after Hawk, the hero from your favorite romance novel? Sounds just like you.”

“You need a different adventure, Harri. Something other than all the comforts of home such as riding around in a BMW convertible.” Cayce kept her eyes on the road and hesitated before continuing, “And, while we’re on the subject of comfort, I need to tell you Joshua specifically wanted you along because there is a cooking element only you can handle.”

“Putting cooking and ‘other than all the comforts of home’ in the same context has me really worried.” Harri kept her eyes straight ahead as apprehension circled head to stomach.

“You are so right. As in cooking on a fireplace, a wood stove, and even over a campfire—pioneer cooking, so to speak. In fact, Joshua wants to keep the experience as close to the nineteenth century as possible for those brave enough to come.”

“Stop right there! If there is no air conditioning and no indoor plumbing, I’m on the next plane out of here. I didn’t sign on for roughin’ it.” Harri set her jaw, struggling not to yell expletives at her sister for coercing her into this craziness. “And the mention of campfire cooking sounds like roughin’ it to me.”

“Oh, don’t be such a sissy, Harri.” Cayce dismissed Harri’s argument with a wave of her non-driving hand. “The work crew has already installed indoor plumbing of the communal type, with shared showers and toilets on the top floor of the hotel. However, there are cabins that have outhouses in case some tourists want a true historical experience. And before you ask, we have rooms in the upstairs of the hotel.”

“That doesn’t explain campfire cooking.” Harri folded her arms and shook her head, disliking the potential hardship suggested. “I’m not sure I want to hear this.”

“Okay. I might as well get this over with. Joshua is coming out in a few days, and he has a guy lined up to take us on a wagon train trip, something he will include in the guest package. He wants you to come up with the meal plan.” Cayce kept her eyes straight ahead and sped up.

“Whoa, Cayce! Turn this thing around and take me back to the airport. I don’t do dirt, insects, or hanging your butt over a felled tree limb to do your business. And I will not afflict my nice makeup bag with a small handheld spade for burying such business.” She couldn’t believe Cayce had planned something so extreme without giving any initial warning of what all it entailed. Panic formed a hard ball in Harri’s throat, leaving her feeling sick.

Cayce refused to look at her.

“I mean it, Cayce, I’m not doing this!” She shouted to bring home her point.

“Don’t get your thongs…or whatever…in a tiny, lacy knot. There will be some really nice streams to bathe in, and I’ve already purchased you a battery-operated blow dryer and curling iron. As for the business, there’ll be plenty of outhouses for that, except maybe when you’re between outhouses.” Cayce smiled her mischievous smile.

“That is so disgusting!” Infuriated, Harri shuddered and turned away, looking out the side window with her arms crossed. Dollar signs replaced her angry thoughts. “What’s in this for me? He’s bound to have something in mind, or he knows I wouldn’t consider this.”

“I knew I could count on you, and Joshua did, too. He wants you to do a cookbook for the ghost town. He’ll pay you to do it, and you’ll be able to sell it other places for profit.” Cayce risked looking at her sister, knowing the cookbook idea would cause a change of attitude.

Harri stared straight ahead, her elbow rested on the other arm crossed over her waist while she tapped an index finger against her top lip. This pose always meant deep financial contemplation.

“Hmmm. You know, I did do a campfire-cooking lesson for a troop of girl scouts in Germantown, Tennessee one time. I just need to find a nineteenth-century substitute for aluminum foil.” Harri’s lip tapping returned, and Cayce knew she could count on her sister regardless of her earlier misgivings. Cayce remained quiet, ready for Harri’s brainstorms.

“We need to stop at some antique shops. I need to buy a couple of Dutch ovens and some cast iron cookware. Maybe I’ll luck up and find some frontier cookbooks, too.”

“We’ll wait until we get closer to Bar None. Joshua told me when the word was out that Bar None had been sold, someone went in and ransacked the buildings, taking everything that might be of value. Joshua hired Steve, a man who owns one of the old cabins in Bar None, to watch over the town. Steve is the only full-time resident there.”

“It’s time to fill me in on the history and the paranormal activity at the town. I might as well know who or what we’re up against.” Harri turned her whole body toward her sister, settling her shoulder into the seat.

“Okay. Here goes.” Cayce leaned back in her seat and lifted her left leg to rest her foot on the edge of the driver’s seat. She moved her hands to the bottom of the huge old steering wheel, her “long haul position,” as her sister called it, her storytelling position or “plotting” position.

“Bar None sprang up in 1867 with the discovery of gold. By 1900, it was a fairly large town, though remote, with close to nine hundred people living in it. A railroad was built with part of it running right through the middle of town, but only one piece of track remains, a track going nowhere. Most of the railroad ties probably now outline flowerbeds in the yards of local lovers of antiquities. Make that pilferers.” Cayce glanced at Harri to make sure she was listening and saw she had her sister’s full attention.

“In the early nineteen hundreds, most of the town burned, and by then, the vein of gold was running out, so Bar None was never rebuilt. All that remains of the town is a hotel and the building that once housed the town newspaper, The Bar None Sentry, plus a few small, rundown—or make that falling-down—cabins and homes, and a large two-story building called The Nugget, with a saloon on the bottom floor and a famed house of ill repute in the back and upstairs sections. The Nugget provided entertainment for the mostly male population of Bar None. The local clientele called it by a different name—the cat house.”

“Sounds appropriate.” Harri gave a one-syllable mini laugh.

“Madam Belle’s girls made her wealthier than any of the miners, the exception being Absalom Duluth, the owner of the Duluth Mining Company, the largest and last gold mining company in the area.” Cayce stretched over the huge steering wheel and stared ahead, making sure no surprise potholes were in her path. “The company dissolved in 1935 with the death of Absalom Duluth, who had no known heirs. The gold vein had run out way before then, anyway.” Cayce stopped and drank from the bottled water she’d propped between her thighs.

“Okay, now get to the good part. Does Absalom still reside at Bar None, and what other used-to-be residents are thought to be roaming about wreaking havoc on the construction project?” Harri loosened her chest strap, switched legs under her, and leaned against the truck door, facing her sister, ready for the ghost stories.

“The construction boss for the project is a guy named Hank Coulter. He’s had a heck of a time keeping workers, especially the night crew, because of the activity there. Men have been knocked off ladders by black mists or shadowy figures and hit with flying objects. They’ve heard a phantom train approaching with its horn blowing, and saloon music at night.”

“Holy crap! This is going to be exciting.” Harri rubbed her hands together as if in anticipation. “Any apparitions?”

“Oh, yes, especially in the cemetery. The figure seen most often is a beautiful young Chinese woman thought to be Yu, the wife of Absalom. Her full name was Yu Lin. That means ‘beautiful jade’ in Chinese. She mostly walks the cemetery, wringing her hands and whimpering. She’s distraught over the loss of her baby girl Tamara. Yu is buried between her husband and their child.”

“So Absalom Duluth had an heir for a short time.”

“Yes, and that is the most tragic story of all. Absalom Duluth was a light-skinned African American who came to Bar None when he was very young, in his early twenties. No one knew anything about him other than he was a mechanical genius, especially when it came to mining, and he was exceptionally adept at supervising workers and making money. Even though the Civil War had ended only a decade earlier, the whole town respected Absalom without prejudice. Absalom fell in love with Yu Lin, who was one of Madam Belle’s girls, and made Belle a deal she couldn’t refuse in order to buy Yu’s freedom.”

“Wait a minute.” Harri held up her hand. “What do you mean ‘buy Yu’s freedom’? Slavery ended with the Emancipation Proclamation. There was no slavery after the Civil War.”

“Yes and no. It seems Madam Belle, like many, practiced her own form of slavery. She paid off the debts of young women, lured them with promises of a better life, and then refused to release them. They were slaves to prostitution. But Yu’s story was different. Belle hired an old client from San Francisco, where her business was before moving to Bar None, to buy Yu Lin and other Chinese girls from a Chinese agent who is said to have kidnapped the girls to sell on the slave market.” Cayce shook her head at the thought of having a child, especially a daughter, stolen and placed into prostitution in a foreign land.

“I can’t imagine anything worse than having your daughter stolen.” Harri spoke her sister’s thoughts aloud.

“And most of Belle’s girls were Chinese; probably easier to control since they did not speak English and were too far from family to be rescued. But Yu was luckier than most of the girls. Once Absalom saw Yu, he fell madly in love and told Belle to name her price for Yu’s freedom. When Belle refused, Absalom offered her half interest in Duluth Mining Company. Belle took the offer. It’s a classic love story.” Cayce knew she’d captivated her sister with the tale, since Harri never took her eyes off her.

“So what happened to the child? Did he or she die a tragic death?”

“I know what you’re thinking, but this is different than Chloe at Spanish Oaks.” Cayce took a quick glance toward Harri. “However, this is where the love story becomes a tragedy. While Absalom was away on a business trip, Yu went into early labor. Belle took care of Yu in Absalom’s absence, but the baby died before Yu was well enough, or conscious enough, to see her. The birth was just too hard for the petite Yu.” Cayce paused for a few seconds and glanced at the landscape surrounding them, wondering how such a beautiful place could be the setting for so much heartache and cruelty. She took another sip from her water bottle and then continued.

“Belle sat by Yu’s bedside for days thinking Yu, too, would have to be buried before Absalom returned to Bar None. Yu survived the birth, but was so distraught over losing Tamara, the name Absalom had chosen for a baby girl, she never spoke again. When Absalom returned, he cared for Yu, refusing to leave her side. Belle had to run the mining operation in Absalom’s absence. Unable to tolerate her loss, Yu refused food and water and literally starved to death out of grief a few weeks later.”

“How awful for Absalom, first his child and then his wife.” Harri changed her position, leaning against the door again with her left knee up on the seat. “What happened next?”

“After Absalom buried his beautiful wife, he drowned his sorrows in whiskey and continued to neglect his mining business. Belle kept control and ran the company for both of them. To Absalom’s regret, he managed to live a long sorrowful life and never remarried. Madam Belle took care of him until she died in 1928. I’m not sure what ‘took care of him’ meant. Absalom lived a few years longer than Belle, and he, too, is buried in the cemetery at Bar None. The tale was Belle had always had her eye on Absalom from the first day he rode into town in 1875.”

“So what about Absalom? Is he also walking the cemetery mourning for Yu and the child?”

“No, not that anyone has been able to identify, but there are shadows, and Belle has appeared. Oh, yes, and there’s one more real character seen around town. Her name is Peg, not short for Peggy, but a nickname due to her having a peg leg. She supposedly got drunk one night at the saloon after winning big at poker…an unusual pastime for a woman…woman being a stretch since Peg wore only men’s clothes and kept her hair bobbed off. She is said to be a scary character, with deep scars covering one side of her face and both hands. Peg, whose real name was Annie, passed out by the railroad track on her way back to her cabin. Story goes when she fell, one of her legs lay across the track. I figure you can guess what happened next.”

“Ouch! That must have hurt.” Harri shuddered and made a face.

“Probably no worse than when the saloon keeper lost the toss and had to saw her mangled leg off. There was no doctor in the town at the time. Supposedly, Annie guzzled whiskey until she passed out again. The saying goes ‘she went to sleep Annie and woke up Peg.’ ”

Harri laughed at the inference. “I can hardly wait for this. What does Peg do?”

“There’s no mistaking Peg Leg Annie. She’s mostly seen in the saloon, usually at the one poker table not stolen because it, like Peg, was missing a leg. She is pretty much always seen sitting, but the place she frequents most is the entrance to the old boarded-up mineshaft. There are signs all around it reading, ‘Danger! No trespassing!’ Up until she lost her leg, Peg was the only female miner in Bar None, and no man dared cross her. Since she couldn’t go down in the mine like she once did, she sold whiskey.”

“Sold whiskey? You’ve got to be kidding! Did she make it herself?”

“Probably so. It was obviously a lucrative business. She’d sit in her rocker with her rifle across her lap and her whiskey bottles lined up in front of her. Needless to say, she was never robbed. Her cabin is the only one still standing, partially anyway, close to the remains of the old railroad tracks. Supposedly when the phantom train blows its whistle, Peg can be heard cursing it and is seen as a wispy, dark mist with fist shaking at the train.”

“I wonder how much farther to Bar None?” Harri reached under the seat for the atlas.

“Oh, probably five or six hours yet. We haven’t been in Idaho very long. We have to drive the last fifteen miles on gravel. Right now, we need to find a gas station. Hawk’s tummy is growling.”

Cayce pulled off at the next exit and stopped at a small café-gas station combination. Harri went inside while Cayce filled up the truck. When Cayce came out of the restroom a few minutes later, Harri was paying for two big cups of coffee to go. Before leaving the cash register, Harri pointed out a poster taped to the back of it and a stack of leaflets with the same picture and information on the end of the counter. The picture showed a young couple on a motorcycle.

MISSING! REWARD OFFERED!

Johnny Stinson and Billie Townsley

Last seen in Butte, Montana on May 18. If you have any information on the whereabouts of these young people, please call 406-327-9002 or any law enforcement agency.

“Look at this. What a nice-looking young couple.” Harri handed one of the leaflets to Cayce, who absorbed every detail.

She was reminded of a Hollywood poster that always caught her eye in her favorite hair salon where Susan, her hairstylist, worked a magical disappearing act on her client’s gray streaks.

In the Hollywood picture, James Dean sat astride a motorcycle with Marilyn Monroe cuddled to his back, a seductive look plastered on her flawless face. The similarities between the two males were amazing. Johnny and James both had thick, longer hair combed straight back, outlining serious, posed faces. Both were dressed in jeans, distressed leather jackets, and cowboy boots, and were obviously proud of their biker chicks. But there the similarity ended. Billie was not cuddled to Johnny like Marilyn was to James Dean. Billie looked young, full of life, athletic and fit, and very sure of herself, possibly even a little aloof as she stood smiling, leaned against Johnny’s bike.

“May we take one of these?” Harri held up the leaflet. “We have a good bit of traveling ahead of us. You never know. We might just spot them.”

“Please do. The sheriff’s office brings a new stack by every week.” The girl came from behind the cash register where she could talk to Harri and Cayce better.

“This is getting pretty scary. We don’t have much crime around here, but in the last ten months, three girls have disappeared. My parents hate that I work here by myself during the day. Sometimes, my dad comes and just sits with me like a guardian angel.”

“I don’t blame your parents,” Cayce remarked as she looked at the poster Harri was holding. “I have a daughter, Piper, and I’d be frantic if something like this happened to her.” Cayce took the poster and read it silently. “It says they’ve been missing for over a month now. That’s a long time. I hope they’re just runaways and no harm has come to them.”

“Unfortunately, that’s probably not the case. The deputy that brought this stack in said they found the motorcycle the other day. It had been pushed off into a stream near a public outhouse in a national forest in our state. They found some old blood outside the outhouse, but I haven’t heard if the DNA matched either of the two on the poster. Law enforcement is looking in both Montana and Idaho.” The girl reached behind the counter and pulled out a newspaper. “Here, you can have this. There’s a big article in it about the disappearance. I’m done reading it anyway.”

****

Cayce drank her coffee and drove in silence, waiting for Harri to finish reading the article. Coincidences just were not in the scheme of things where the sisters were concerned. Cayce remembered the philosophy of their father, a philosophy that always proved true: “Keep an open mind and an open path, and the Way will find you.”

The Way had found them time after time, and Cayce wondered whether this gas station and this poster had found them, rather than the other way around. She hoped Johnny and Billie would not show themselves to her. Cayce’s visions were with those who were no longer alive, but she had to come in contact with some personal item or be in a place where they had been in order to connect. Harri, on the other hand, could often sense the emotions felt by those in question, and needed only to be in close proximity with an item or place familiar to the person.

“Are you ready for this information? I’m having one of those feelings, and I know you are, too.” Harri folded the paper and laid it on her lap.

“I’m ready. I just hope we’re not too late to help. Give me the details.”

“The two were from southeastern Montana, from Hardin. They had been gone for three days, on a motorcycle trip across Montana with no particular destination in mind. The parents of the girl, Billie, tried to talk her out of making the trip. There was some family disagreement over her being with Johnny, who is twenty-two. Billie is only eighteen, a recent high school graduate. The two never contacted their parents by phone, but Billie texted her mother periodically. The last text she received was from Butte, the same place they were last seen buying gas at an Exxon station. The picture on the poster was texted to Billie’s mother from the station.”

“Too bad Billie never called her parents. Texting is so impersonal. I’m always glad to hear from Piper, but I’ve told her to please call more than text. So far, she hasn’t let me down. Now that she’s in Europe, communication is even more important. I’ll be glad when she’s back in the States.” Cayce tightened her hands on the steering wheel. “I know studying art in Europe is a dream come true for her, but I’m so ready to see her. The last time I talked to her, she sounded like something was bothering her, like she had something she needed to tell me. When I asked her if anything was wrong, she said no, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.”

“Piper will be fine. She’s from good stock.” Harri gave a reassuring smile before unfolding the newspaper to read more of the article and then began speaking again without looking up. “Maybe Piper’s met someone. Maybe she’ll show up on the arm of Jacques Pierre with a big ol’ diamond on her left hand.”

“She wouldn’t tell me if she had. Piper is so independent, but it would be just like her to show up with a fiancé, or maybe even a husband. She’s thirty years old, so I guess she’s old enough to make her own decisions. As long as Cody keeps paying for her to study abroad, or whatever idea she comes up with, I’m sure that’s what she’ll do.”

“You were lucky you married Cody, even if you two did divorce. I’ve never seen a daddy dote on his daughter like Cody does Piper.”

“I agree. Our sharing Piper has kept Cody and me friends. I’ll always value his opinion where Piper is concerned.” Cayce thought back to the loving farewell Cody had given Piper the day she left for Europe and knew he had called Piper almost every day since she’d been gone.

Harri went back to reading the news article. “Here’s the bad part. Two days ago, a hiker came across the motorcycle in the stream near the outhouse at Meteor Lake National Park. Sheriff’s office deputies combed the area and found old blood near the back of the outhouse. DNA results are not back from the lab yet, but the sheriff’s office is treating this as a criminal investigation.”

“The girl in the gas station mentioned two other disappearances. Does it say anything about those?”

“Yes. One was a nineteen-year-old girl named Lisa Perkins, from Billings, who disappeared six months ago, and the other was twenty-five-year-old Denise Mansfield, from northern Utah. Denise disappeared about ten months ago. It looks like she was the first reported missing. Denise was pregnant and unmarried. Her parents became alarmed when they were unable to reach her by cell phone and she never showed up at the cousin’s house where she was going. They had argued because Denise wanted an abortion, something against their faith, but Denise told them she was going to have an abortion with or without their support.”

“What about Billie and Lisa? Does it say if they were pregnant or not? Did they have boyfriends not endeared to parents?”

“It doesn’t say. Do you have a hunch? Surely, you’re not getting vibes already, Cayce.” Harri folded the paper and put it on the seat.

“No, no vibes. I’m just trying to see if there are any patterns. Look on the map and see where they found the motorcycle.” Cayce grabbed the atlas from under the seat and handed it to Harri.

Harri flipped pages until she found Idaho. Cayce glanced over and saw her running her finger along the page.

“Here it is.” Harri poked the page. “It’ll take us longer to get to Bar None if you want to go by this location. You’re not thinking of finding this outhouse, are you?”

Cayce heard disapproval in her sister’s voice, but said nothing, keeping her eyes focused on the road.

“Of course you are. Why am I bothering to ask?”

Cayce peeked over as Harri redirected her gaze to the atlas. “Let’s see. We’ll have to turn at Idaho Falls. We probably won’t make it to Bar None tonight. Is that a problem?”

An hour later, the old red truck turned off the interstate, heading to Meteor Lake.

Cayce drove along the two-lane highway with her hands gripping the steering wheel. As they began seeing signs directing them to Meteor Lake, she became more tense. They passed two gravel roads that led to the park, and at each one, Cayce stopped and rolled down her window as if getting a sense of each road. At the third road, she repeated her actions, but this time turned and drove slowly.

A few miles down the road, they turned again, onto an even bumpier road. Harri would have hit the top of the truck if it hadn’t been for her seatbelt.

“About that outhouse!” Harri crossed her legs, but got no reply from Cayce, who seemed intent on driving the narrow road.

Then they saw it. Yellow crime-scene tape surrounded the outhouse and the parking lot, most of it sagging or lying on the ground.