Westin Legacy. Alice Sharpe
close to her, one hand on her shoulder, his breath warm against her ear. The juxtaposition of this intimacy and the tension of the situation really set the sparks flying.
“I’m going to see who’s in that cave. I want to catch him red-handed.”
Me, too! she thought but didn’t say. No way am I missing this.
Where was a camera crew when you needed one?
More creeping through the trees until she finally saw where they were headed. Even she could tell the doorlike thing over the mouth of the cave was ajar.
“I’m going in,” he said, turning to her. She’d been plastered to his back so they ended up nose to nose. “You stay here. If you hear shots or see someone come running out of that cave, stay hidden behind these rocks. Don’t try to help me. Don’t try to stop them. Just hide.”
“I’m going with you,” she said.
“Just listen to me, will you?”
“Stop bossing me around.”
“I should have tied you up with the horses.” With that he slunk away.
She lost sight of him for a few minutes, then he emerged next to the cave opening. In an instant, he’d slipped inside.
How could she bear standing outside waiting for something to happen? Besides, he might need help.
She started slinking down the trail. When she heard a muffled sound coming from the cave, she broke into a run.
Chapter Three
The lock was neatly sawed in half.
Adam patted his pockets for his flashlight as he stole through the door, then stopped. Whoever was in here had already lit the wall torches. The light wasn’t great but it was good enough to make his way.
Last March, Pierce had told him that he had found fuel in the torches which he’d assumed Adam or Cody had put there. They hadn’t. After they had proof that the burial chamber had been violated, Adam had made a point of emptying them, but obviously someone had come along after him and filled them again.
Damn. This place was just too remote to adequately safeguard now that someone was intent on robbing it. His father would need to see this for what it was or three generations of Westin stewardship was going to be for nothing. Maybe this thief was going at it slowly, but sooner or later, greed would get the better of him and all this history would disappear forever.
But why now, why after all these years? Who knew about it and how had they found out? Who had told?
Adam paused for a second as a new sound came from the cavern up ahead. It sounded like rocks falling but not enough for an avalanche. Hugging the wall, he waited a few minutes. The sound continued but now he could tell it wasn’t falling rocks. He held the rifle down at his side, ready in case he caught someone unprepared and that someone panicked, but not anticipating he would need to use it.
The cave floor was rocky and sloped toward the large main cavern. Two main tunnels led from this cavern; one traveled on to the burial chamber. The other emptied into one of several prospecting shafts.
He paused for a few seconds near the rocks that would give him cover before turning into the main cavern. Then he slowly and methodically rounded the rocks.
The torches had been lit in this cavern, as well. The floor was covered with stalagmites; stalactites descended from the ceiling. This time of year, they dripped steadily, forming rivulets through the main cavern.
A man was working on the distant side, near the out-cropping that led to the burial chamber tunnel. He wielded a pickax, apparently breaking up the rocks to create a larger and more direct opening. His movements near one of the torches threw giant wild shadows onto the walls.
Adam’s fingers tightened on the rifle. He remembered the metal cart Pierce had discovered in this chamber. They’d talked about what it was used for—neither remembered it being there years before. Now Adam speculated that this man had hauled it here, probably during the winter months when Pierce found the tampered lock on the gate near the BLM lease land. It currently appeared this guy was widening the entrance of the tunnel so he could use the cart for the wholesale looting of the chamber.
Adam swallowed hard. The noise from the man’s activities undoubtedly masked Adam’s infuriated advance across the cave, but Adam almost welcomed a confrontation. He wanted to know who this bozo was, catch him and haul his ass into town for the sheriff to deal with.
Something of his presence must have filtered through the man’s consciousness. The pickax stopped midswing and he turned abruptly. He wore a big tan cowboy hat and a bandana up around his face all the way to his eyes like the old bandits in the television shows wore. Between his getup and the terrible quality of the torch light, it was impossible to tell who he was although he wasn’t a huge guy.
None of the Garvey men were very big. Could this be a brother of the late Lucas and Doyle? Since the Garveys blamed the Westins for their deaths, could they feel justified in robbing this cave? No wait, the looting had started before they died. Still, it was possible Lucas had heard something of its existence and passed it along to his family.
“Stop what you’re doing,” Adam yelled.
The pickax clattered to the rocks, but just as quickly, a shotgun appeared. Adam ducked to the side as a blast whizzed past him. Behind him, he heard a scream.
Adam turned and scanned the cavern as he threw himself behind a forest of stalagmites.
It had to be Echo. He couldn’t see her at first because she wasn’t at the entrance. She’d traveled halfway around the perimeter of the cavern and was close now to the mine shaft. The thief saw her too and let off a blast in her direction. Echo screamed again and disappeared from sight. The man charged the exit, leaving Adam with a split second to make a decision—he either found out if Echo was hurt or he followed the thief.
He knew what he wanted to do. He also knew what he had to do. With a sinking heart, he kept low but he needn’t have bothered—the thief’s footsteps rumbled against the earth as he ran up the tunnel toward freedom. Hopefully he’d be so hell-bent on escape that he wouldn’t take time to look for their horses. Otherwise, Echo—and he—were in for a long walk home.
ECHO LAY ON HER BACK IN THE pitch-black. Thoroughly winded, she wasn’t sure what had happened except she’d fallen, hard, landing on her back, and now was working just to catch her breath.
There wasn’t a single inch of her that didn’t throb in pain.
And she’d seen Adam so she knew he knew she was there and if she could have heard anything over her own pounding heart and sharp intakes of breath, she imagined it would be him coming to scold her.
That roused her enough to pat the damp ground around her. Rocks, gravel, dirt, some mud…
“Echo?”
Adam. “Did he get away?” Her voice was a croak.
“What do you think?”
A light flashed over her face and she winced. It appeared to originate about ten feet over her head and now that her eyes grew accustomed, she could see she’d fallen down a shaft. To make matters more humiliating, a ladder descended right next to her. Well, if she ever moved again, she could at least climb out of this hole by herself.
Except it wasn’t a hole. It was a tunnel. Narrow and shored up with boards, it disappeared into blackness after a few feet. It felt deep and dank and she was sure it was full of unimaginable horrors.
“Are you okay?”
Wasn’t that the second time he’d asked her that since they met again? “No,” she snapped, but found her breath came a little easier. “I’m fine, really. I’ll move in a minute.”
“I’ll come down—”
“No, please don’t. Throw me the flashlight—go