The Last Mile, page 7
His personal gear included a vicious-looking machete and a pair of lightweight Zeiss binoculars, a good pair of wraparound Ray-Ban sunglasses, a Leatherman multi-tool, plus his .45 caliber S&W sidearm, 30.06 Winchester rifle, and ammo for each.
Once he had what he needed, he went back through and pared it all down. The outfitter, with Mateo’s help, would be in charge of meals. They were headed into very rough country. It was essential to be prepared while carrying as little as possible.
Gage and Walt Jenkins had discussed going in on horseback, leading a couple of pack mules loaded with equipment and supplies, but Walt had warned that the horses could only go in so far. Once the group headed off the trail, the terrain would be too steep and dangerous for the animals.
They would take a wrangler to take care of the stock; he would bring the horses out when the animals could no longer handle the tough terrain.
None of it was unexpected. This wasn’t his first rodeo.
Gage looked up at the sound of footsteps in the hall and spotted Abby walking toward him in jeans and a pink long-sleeved T-shirt with a floppy-eared rabbit on the front. She had pulled her hair into a ponytail that swung against her back.
How anyone could look sexy in a pink rabbit T-shirt, he had no idea, but the stirring in his groin said she did.
“Good morning.” She smiled, held up a red thermal mug. “I brought coffee. I figured you’d be ready for a fresh cup.”
“I’ll have to add mind reading to your growing list of talents.” He accepted the mug and took a healthy swallow, enjoyed the heat and freshly brewed taste. “You’re up early.”
“You said we were leaving today. Some of my clothes are still at Tammy’s—those that weren’t destroyed—but I’m guessing you don’t want me going back there to get them.”
He shook his head. “They could be watching the place, figuring you’ll be back sooner or later.”
“Then I need to go shopping.”
He nodded. “You can do that in Arizona.”
She studied the pile of equipment he had pulled off the shelves. “Looks like you’re ready to go.”
“I talked to Maggie earlier, told her we were moving up the timetable, and asked her to arrange air transportation.”
“We’re flying?” Abby asked. “I thought we’d be driving.”
“Private charter,” Gage said. “We need to get down there. We’ll be carrying weapons along with our gear. Dealing with the airlines would take too much time.”
“So you’re waiting to hear from Maggie.”
“That’s right. We’ll have a chance for another look at the maps and with any luck, your FedEx delivery will arrive. As soon as we get the flight information, we’ll load the car and head for the airport.”
Abby looked up at him with those big golden eyes he was beginning to find nearly irresistible. “What if they’re watching us? What if they follow us to the airport?”
“We’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“How?”
Gage couldn’t stop a grin. “My brother’s on his way over. He’s going to run interference.” Twenty minutes later, Gage’s cell phone rang, signaling Edge’s number.
“Fifteen minutes out,” Edge said.
“Take your time. We’ve still got work to do here.”
“No problem. I’ll just hang around, keep an eye out for the bad guys.”
Gage grunted. God forbid Edge got his hands on the men who had attacked them last night. “Just don’t kill anyone.”
“You mean unless I have to.”
His lips twitched. On the other hand, at least one problem would be solved. “I’ll see you soon.”
* * *
Abby went upstairs to take another look through the stuff she’d brought from Tammy’s and make sure she had everything she could use. It was still cold in Denver, but in March, the weather in the Superstitions was warmer, with daytime highs in the seventies, lows in the forties at night.
Unfortunately, in the desert mountains, the weather was highly unpredictable. The days could climb into the nineties, the nights drop to near freezing. Clouds could bring an unexpected downpour and flash flooding. The wind had been known to blow up a sandstorm.
Abby had just zipped the bag when she heard Gage calling from the living room.
“Abby! Come on out; there’s someone here I’d like you to meet.”
She hurried down the hall and saw a tall, lean-muscled, blade-haired man standing next to Gage. Recognizing the blue eyes, hard jaw, and notched chin, she knew it had to be Gage’s brother.
“Abby, this is Edge,” Gage said. “He’s going to make sure we get to the airport without any trouble.”
She smiled up at him. “Nice to meet you, Edge. Thank you for helping.”
“No problem,” he said. Though she could see the family resemblance, the two looked completely different, Edge with his black hair, high cheekbones, leaner face, and blade of a nose. There was a cynical twist to his lips that was missing from Gage’s features.
Edge was hard, dark, and, in a different way, every bit as handsome as Gage. Still, it was the older brother who drew her. Gage was the man to whom she felt connected, had since her grandfather had first mentioned his name and Abby had seen an internet photo of him on a trip to Africa.
“You finished packing?” he asked.
“I’m ready to go. I didn’t have much that would work.”
“We’ll buy the rest when we get there.”
Returning to her room, she made a final check, grabbed her laptop, and slung it over her shoulder, along with her camera. Her backup camera, a Canon Powershot Elph 190, which took surprisingly good photos as well as decent video, was packed in her carry-on. Abby grabbed the handle and wheeled it into the living room.
Gage was there, with a bigger wheeled bag and a black canvas satchel. Edge grabbed the satchel, hoisted it over one broad shoulder, and they headed out, taking the elevator this time instead of the stairs.
Edge loaded her carry-on into the back of the Land Rover next to Gage’s big bag, tossed in the satchel, then helped load the rest of the gear.
“I’ll follow you,” Edge said. “Make sure no one else does.”
Abby climbed into the passenger seat, and Gage backed the Rover out of the garage.
“Which airport?” she asked.
“Rocky Mountain Metro. It’s less than twenty miles from here. We’ve got a Bonanza A36 flying us down, good little airplane for a relatively short trip like this.”
Gage drove out of the alley and turned onto the street. A black Nissan sports car pulled in behind them. Abby recognized the black-haired man behind the wheel.
“Wow, that car your brother’s driving is hot.”
“He just got it. Now that he’s out of the army, he’s living out his fantasies.”
“So I guess he wanted to be a race car driver.”
Gage grinned. “Or an outlaw.”
Gage turned the corner and gunned the engine. The Rover tore down the block, shot through a busy intersection, and roared around a corner.
“If they’re out there,” Gage said, “I’m not making it easy for them.” He slowed to round a curve, then jammed his foot on the gas pedal again. The black Nissan dropped back a few cars but stayed right with them.
Abby flipped down her sun visor to watch behind them in the mirror, saw another car appear three vehicles back.
“There’s a car back there that seems to be staying right with us. But it’s not a dark gray or black SUV. It’s a sedan, and it’s silver.” She turned to look out the back window. “It just pulled in behind us about three cars back.” Her pulse speeded along with the engine. “Maybe the men from last night changed cars so we wouldn’t recognize them.”
“Edge knows what happened. He’ll be watching for anyone who might be following us, no matter what vehicle they’re driving.”
In the mirror, she saw Edge’s Nissan pull up beside the silver sedan, then cut in front of the car and slow, forcing the sedan to slam on its brakes. At the same time, Gage hit the gas and the Rover leaped forward. The Rover careened around a corner, then roared into an alley, raced out the other end, continued down a parallel track for a mile or so, then finally skidded back onto the road.
Abby’s heart was pounding, her fingers digging into the leather seats. They were halfway to the airport when Edge’s black Nissan caught up with them again.
“Edge is back,” Abby said.
“He’s lost them. He knows where we’re going. He’ll keep watch until we get there.”
“Seems like a handy guy to know.”
The corners of Gage’s mouth faintly curved. “You have no idea.”
CHAPTER TEN
A SINGLE ENGINE BEECHCRAFT BONANZA WAITED ON THE TARMAC. Gage drove out to the plane and dumped the gear, then parked the Rover between two cars in an out-of-the-way space at the back of the parking lot.
They wouldn’t be gone more than a week, less if the trip turned out to be a wild goose chase—or if by some miracle they found the spot King had marked on the map. In which case they would be making a second trip for an in-depth search of the area.
He checked in at the terminal desk, and they made their way outside to board the plane. The pilot was a guy in his forties named Christopher Conners. Good solid guy, competent pilot. Gage had flown with him before.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Logan,” the pilot said, sunlight glinting off the silver in his dark hair.
“Let’s skip the formalities, Chris. It’s just Gage and Abby.”
Chris smiled. “Great. I’ve got all your bags loaded. If you’re ready, you can go ahead and board. I’ll make my final exterior inspection and get her ready for takeoff.”
Gage helped Abby into the plane through the double cargo doors that were a nice feature of the A36. The tan leather interior was arranged club-seating style, so Gage sat down across from her, giving them both more room.
He clicked on his seat belt as the pilot strapped himself in and began his preflight check. The engines fired, and in minutes, the plane was taxiing down the runway, then lifting into the air.
It was a mild day in the Rockies, with only a few white cumulus clouds in the distance, which made for mostly smooth air. Gage folded down the table so he and Abby could work.
For the past few days, he’d been researching the history and legends surrounding the infamous gold mine in the Superstitions, as well as the Peralta family, who had originally found it, at least according to the legends.
He’d studied past efforts to find the lost mine, read searches documented in journals and books, and tales passed down over the years. No way to know exactly which stories were true, but it was important to have as much background information as possible. He knew Abby had done similar research before she’d walked into his office.
He allowed himself a moment to study her as she stared out the window. She seemed fascinated by the colors and patchwork shapes of the land below, the shadow of the plane moving over the landscape. She wanted to see things, learn things.
She was a seeker of knowledge, same as he was. She was fiery and independent, and he was drawn to her more every day.
He settled back in his seat. He couldn’t have her. Not now. Not until this was over. Once he did, his constant thoughts of her would end, and she’d be just another memory, something he could file away to take out and savor through the years.
He watched the play of sunlight through the window, setting her burnished hair ablaze. Her sweater outlined her tempting breasts, and his palms itched to cup them.
Not yet, he told himself. He was a patient man, or at least he could be when there was something worth waiting for. Gage had a feeling Abby Holland was a memory worth the wait.
They’d been in the air less than three hours when the plane began its descent into the Scottsdale Airport. Maggie had a rental car, a big white Ford Explorer, waiting at the terminal to carry them to Apache Junction. Though Gage was anxious to get underway, Abby insisted on taking photos of the plane, Gage standing next to it, and pictures of the airport terminal.
“What’s our first order of business?” she asked, once they were settled in the SUV, their gear stowed in back.
“Let’s hit the nearest Sportsman’s Warehouse. There’s equipment I need, things you’ll be needing as well.”
“Sounds good.”
Abby pulled up Siri on her iPhone, and the female voice began giving them directions.
“Where’s Mateo?” Abby asked as the big SUV pulled out of the airport parking lot. “I thought he might be meeting us here.”
“He’s already out at the ranch.”
“Tell me about him,” Abby said.
Gage settled back in the driver’s seat. “We met while I was in Guatemala. A family named Castro hired me to find some heirlooms that had disappeared during the colonial period. One of the locals recommended Mateo as a guide. The man knows his way around the natural world like no one I’ve ever seen. Desert. Jungle. Doesn’t matter. It’s like he seamlessly just blends in.”
“Where does he live?”
“Mateo moves around, works wherever he’s needed. We’ve become friends over the years. If I call him, he comes.”
“What exactly does he do for you?”
“He runs the day-to-day operations of the expedition, works with the outfitter, helps him choose a campsite each night, then helps get the camp set up. He’s the most remarkable tracker I’ve ever seen, and he’s got an unbelievable ability to ferret out information from the locals.”
“So basically he takes care of whatever needs to be done.”
“That’s right. Anything that comes up, Mateo handles. You might say he watches my back.” Gage pulled into the parking lot of the big sporting goods store.
“You’ll need a rain slicker and some good above-the-ankle hiking boots,” he said. “Make sure you have a warm jacket, preferably a lightweight puffy style that takes up minimal space. The nights still get cold.”
She nodded. “I live in Denver. I have the jacket I need, and I’ve got a good pair of hiking boots. I do need a slicker, heavy socks, a couple of other things.”
Twenty minutes later, Gage smiled at the armload of purchases Abby hauled up to the counter. He helped her carry the shopping bags out to the car; then they headed for the ranch in the desert foothills near Lost Dutchman State Park.
The ranch was a little over ten miles out of town. Even in March, it was warm, the sky a pure cobalt blue above the arid desert landscape. Thorny mesquite trees and miles of greasewood pushed up through sandy soil. An array of saguaro cactus added interest to what should have been a monotonous vista but instead was strangely compelling.
Eventually, the road narrowed to a two-lane that swelled and dipped over the uneven land as it left civilization behind.
“I’ve only been to the desert once,” Abby said. “When I was in college, I went with some friends to the Grand Canyon. This part of Arizona is lower and drier. But in a different way, it’s beautiful.”
Exactly what Gage had been thinking. “It is. Beautiful but deadly.”
Abby flicked him a glance but made no reply.
Then, in the distance, there it was, rising like a medieval fortress from the flat, seemingly endless desert surrounding it.
“There it is!” Abby pointed excitedly, as if he didn’t notice the forbidding cliffs that rose hundreds of feet into the air, a monolith that captured the eye and refused to let go. “Superstition Mountain.”
Gage slowed the vehicle enough to give them each a chance to look. “Pretty amazing,” he said. “The photos don’t do it justice.”
“No,” Abby said softly.
They both fell silent as the SUV traveled farther down Apache Trail toward their destination. Gage spotted the tall wooden gate with the words CEDAR CANYON RANCH burned into the wood over the top.
As he pulled the SUV to a halt in front of a cluster of wooden buildings, cracked open the door, and got out, the older man he recognized from the Cedar Canyon website walked up to greet them.
“Walt Jenkins,” the man said, extending a weathered, darkly suntanned hand. “Welcome to the Cedar Canyon Ranch.” He was average height, early seventies. In a short-sleeved blue plaid western shirt, he was bone-thin, his arms long and sinewy.
“Gage Logan,” he said, accepting the handshake Walt offered.
Abby rounded the hood of the car to join them. She extended her hand. “Abby Holland. Nice to meet you.” She and Walt shook.
“This is my boy, Kyle,” Walt said proudly as his son walked up.
Kyle gave a friendly tug on the brim of his battered straw cowboy hat. “Welcome to the Cedar Canyon Ranch.” He was spare but not as thin as his dad, solidly muscled, suntanned, dressed in jeans and boots. With his dark hair and dark eyes, the guy was handsome, a few years younger than Gage, late twenties, with a wicked smile he turned on Abby that made Gage want to hit him.
Fortunately for all of them, Abby’s smile held a warm greeting but no invitation for anything more.
The muscles in Gage’s shoulders relaxed. Dammit. He wasn’t the jealous type, and even if he were, he had no claim on Abby.
“Your man, Mateo, is already here,” Walt said. “Cabin five, but he ain’t there now. Took off walking about an hour ago. Said he’d be back in time for supper.”
“I was looking forward to meeting him,” Abby said.
“Mateo has a way of disappearing, then suddenly reappearing out of nowhere,” Gage said. “It’s kind of spooky, but you get used to it.”
Walt just smiled. “Come on. I’ll show you where to stow your gear.” They crossed the open area in the middle of the compound to a row of small wood-frame cabins, each with a covered front porch. Beyond them was a weathered red barn and several corrals.
Walt opened the door to cabin number 1, while Kyle opened the door to cabin 2. Abby disappeared inside with Kyle, and Gage followed Walt into the living room of cabin 1.
“There’s a bigger place we rent to families,” Walt said, “but these others here are all alike. Each has a bedroom and bath, a little seating area in front of the wood-burning stove. Still cold enough at night—there’s some logs there if you feel like building a fire. Got a sink, and there’s a coffee maker next to it on the counter, one of them little fridges underneath.”
