Vickie Britton, page 16
“He disowned me that night,” Ivan said harshly. “He ordered me to never set foot on the Devil’s Gate again.”
“But why?” I cried out, astonished. Despite their frequent clashes, I couldn’t believe Tavas would have gone so far as to disown Ivan without good reason. I shuddered in spite of myself. What horrible thing could Ivan have done, then, to have secured Tavas’s wrath?
Ivan spun around to face me. “Do you think Tavas was blind to my feelings about you?”
“N—no, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“I asked Tavas to go into the study that day to talk about…us. I wanted to let him know my intentions toward you.” His voice thickening, he finished, “I wanted to let him know that just as soon as I got settled, as soon as I had something to offer you, I was going to ask you to be my wife.”
I felt stunned, as if someone had slapped me hard across the face. Was this the dark thing Ivan had been guilty of—loving me? “But…I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” Ivan confessed bitterly. “I never expected his fierce reaction. He was like a wild man. He warned me to stay away from you. He told me that I was no good, a loser. He said that I had no right to even be living
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under his roof…that I was not even his brother’s son, that I was little better than a bastard.
“I guess nobody could hurt my pride like Tavas. It was a blow to me, knowing that I wasn’t Lucas’s son—not knowing who my father might be. I felt stripped of my identity.”
He stopped talking for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “I remember driving into town, stopping at the nearest bar, getting so drunk I couldn’t see straight. The future suddenly looked so empty. And the worst part was my fear that Tavas was right. I’d made a mess of my life so far. You were so much younger than me—so innocent. I decided that I should leave you alone, try to forget about my feelings for you.
“They kicked me out of the bar at closing time. I remember wandering up one street and down another. It began to rain. Somewhere during the night Colleen slowed down in her car and invited me inside.” Wearily, he continued. “I guess I needed someone that night. Needed a woman to soothe my injured pride.”
His voice was rough, raw with emotion. “I never intended to have anything more to do with Colleen. That one night with her made me realize that I could never stop loving you.” His eyes hardened. “Only then Colleen came to me with the story that she was carrying my child. She put on that pitiful, helpless act of hers and I never once doubted that she was telling the truth. She must have known I’d feel remorseful for that night we spent together, guilty because I’d used her.
“I knew that I had to accept my responsibility toward Colleen despite my true feelings for her, and make a home for…the child.” Bitterly, he finished, “We drove into Las Vegas one night, and were married.
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“Shortly after, Tavas became ill, and surprisingly enough, he sent for me. I think he was beginning to regret the things he’d said to me that night. I know my marriage to Colleen shocked him as much as it shocked the rest of them. And then when you came back, when I saw you again…I realized what a terrible mistake I had made.”
Restlessly, he began to pace in front of the creek bed. “Of course, by then, I was beginning to suspect the truth. You see, there was no baby. There never had been. She made a fool of me about that, and in every other way. She made me appear little in Tavas’s eyes, turned Brad against me…
“About that time, her drinking started to grow worse. Day by day, I began to realize just how self-destructive she was becoming. She knows I don’t love her and she retaliates by trying to destroy both me and herself.” He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I can’t even count the times she’s threatened suicide, swearing that if anything happens to her, her life will be on my conscience. She’s so unstable that I’m afraid of what she might do to herself if I leave her.
“While she’s still legally my wife, I feel responsible for her. But I can’t love her. Sometimes, God help me, I find myself hating her.
“Damn it, Anna,” he moaned, reaching for me like a drowning man, pulling me close, “Don’t you know it’s you I want? Don’t you know it’s always been you?” And his hot, searing mouth claimed mine.
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Chapter 22
I knew from the moment we stepped inside that something had happened. Brad, who must have gone out to look for Guillermo and Carl, stood warming his hands near the fire. He’d not even taken off his coat. A circle had formed around Guillermo and Carl. The room was charged with electricity, animated by the buzz of voices asking endless questions.
Brad, noticing us, stepped forward. “We’ve found her car,” he explained.
“Where?” The color had drained from Ivan’s face. His hands were white, the knuckles clenched at his side. “My God, was it wrecked?”
Brad shook his head. “Abandoned.” As he moved nearer to us, I could see that he was limping slightly. “Found it on one of the dirt roads between here and DeGarza’s ranch. There was no sign of Colleen.”
“You’ve called the police?”
He nodded. “Rescue party’s on the way.”
“Then let’s get out there,” Ivan said, turning toward the door. His eyes were weary. The faint, blue-black stubble on his chin made him appear gaunt and haggard. He was exhausted, but still determined. I knew he’d never give up until Colleen was found.
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Guillermo stepped forward. “I’ll show him the spot, Brad,” he volunteered. “You’d best stay off that leg. Stay here with Anna and talk to the sheriff.”
Brad started to protest. “It’s nothing. Just a slight sprain. Stepped into a hole—” “Stay, Brad,” I urged, propelling him to the chair nearest the fire. “I think that ankle needs to be wrapped.”
“After you left the house, I took off alone to see if I could locate Guillermo and Carl,” Brad explained as I worked on the injured leg. “They flagged me down at the mouth of that old dirt road by the Pass. The truck had slipped off the road and into the loose dirt and sand. When I stopped by to lend a hand, Guillermo told me they’d found Colleen’s car hidden in the bushes further back. I went down to look.”
“It was there, just like he said. Not stuck or anything, just sitting there. When I came back to help them get out of the mud I stepped into that damned pothole.” He winced as I pulled the wrappings tighter across his swollen ankle.
“It just doesn’t make sense,” he said suddenly. “She must have been on her way to DeGarza’s. So what the hell was her car doing way out on that back road? And why would she just abandon it like that? Her purse was still lying across the seat and her suitcase was in the back.” As his gaze met mine I saw the worry, the fear in them, and I knew that he, too, wondered if Colleen would ever be found alive.
The same deputy from Bly who had led the rescue party the night before was back in the morning. He was talking with Alice. Brad had already been interrogated again and I supposed that my turn would be coming up shortly.
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The young deputy and his men had infiltrated the house, filling every room with the smell of coffee and cigarette smoke. I sat outside on the old porch swing, despite the cold. The light snow that had fallen during the night left its soggy traces on the barren hillside. I shivered in my warm wrap, imagining Colleen lost and alone somewhere out there in that mottled sea of gray and white.
Brad limped out to join me, sinking heavily into the swing, dangerously jostling the cup of hot chocolate in his hands. “Questions, questions, I’m so sick of questions. I believe Ivan was right. We’re no closer to finding out where Colleen is with all this poking and prying than we were last night before this nosy sheriff’s man came.”
“Do you suppose that this could all be a hoax?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe Colleen only wants us to think she’s missing.”
“You mean she could have just abandoned the car and took off?”
I nodded.
“But her purse, her suitcase—”
“She could have left them there on purpose. To throw us off the track. All she would need is an accomplice. And that would be easy enough to find. Remember the cabin, Brad? The things we found in there? She was seeing someone, I know. She might have talked her lover into taking her into town…”
“It’s possible. She’d love a game like this. But still…”
“I know it sounds pretty far-fetched, but I’m running out of ideas. Have you told them about the cabin yet, Brad?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t think we should.” A strange look appeared in his eyes. “Not yet…”
“You don’t think much of this sheriff’s man, do you?”
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He gave a soft laugh. “Wages are so lousy in Bly I guess they’re having to rob the cradle.”
No sooner had he said the words than the door behind us opened and a voice called out politely, “Miss Haspura?” The young, freckled-faced man poked his head out timidly. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a few more words with you. Just a few routine questions.”
I followed him into Tavas’s small study. The young deputy, polite and eager as a boy playing dress-up in his baggy blue uniform, repeated the same barrage of questions I had answered earlier. There was little I could add to the story of Colleen’s disappearance he hadn’t already heard countless times by myself and the others. When he was finished, he said, “Inspector Tull will be here this afternoon around three. I’ve spoken to your foreman, Guillermo, about these men.” He tore a list of names from his notebook and handed it to me.
I scanned the list, seeing many familiar names. They were primarily men Guillermo suspected of being involved with the Cult of Akerra. The deputy, of course, had been made aware of the cattle mutilations. Among the names were Carl, Manuel, and Esteban.
“Will you see that these men do not leave the premises until he has spoken with them? In fact, no one should leave unless it’s important business.”
“Very well.”
He rose suddenly. “Then that will be all. Thank you for your cooperation.”
I went back outside by way of the porch, hoping to resume my conversation with Brad. The swing creaked emptily in the wind. Though I’d ordered him to stay off of his ankle, he’d no doubt gone back to see what was happening with the search party.
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The sky was cold and gray. Snow crunched beneath my feet as I walked toward Guillermo’s office in the big barn to deliver the list of men Inspector Tull meant to interrogate. I found a sense of comfort in seeing that the men were resuming their ordinary work in shifts—several of them were out working on the fence again. They were taking turns alternately between the work that had to be done and the search. Reaching the barn, I tapped lightly upon the door to Guillermo’s office.
I knocked again lightly. When there was no reply, I gently swung the door open and called his name. Guillermo, who was leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk, hat pulled low over his eyes, started at my approach. I’d caught him sleeping on the job, but who could blame him? He’d served faithfully with the search party. Like the rest of us, he was nearing the point of exhaustion. This was probably the first good rest he’d taken since Colleen had disappeared.
“Any word?” he asked, straightening himself up and pulling the hat back over his ears with a slow, easy gesture.
“Nothing new.” I dropped the list on the desk in front of him. “An inspector’s coming by around three. The deputy says he talked to you earlier about these men. The Inspector wants to question them.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Guillermo said, scanning the list. I knew he was searching for one name in particular. Esteban.
“Does the deputy think there may be some connection between the Cult and Colleen’s disappearance?”
Guillermo nodded. “I told him I might be on to something. Some of the men have opened up to me. I may have evidence to tie Esteban in with that Cult, after all.” With a frown, he added, “And I’ve discovered another
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strange thing about Esteban. He wasn’t home the night
Colleen disappeared.”
“How did you find that out?”
“Had a talk with his wife.”
“Graciana told you?”
He shook his head. “No, of course not. Said he was home all evening, but she was lying. I could tell. I believe she’s trying to protect him. I’m going to do a little more snooping around before the Inspector gets here. I’m going to try to find out why.”
“I’ll stop by their duplex, Guillermo. Maybe she’ll talk to me.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. She’s completely loyal to Esteban.”
“Well, I can give it a try.” I moved toward the door. “I’ll see you later this afternoon.”
As I left the office, I was deep in thought. I could tell by the way he was acting that Guillermo must have stumbled across some pretty strong hints to link Esteban to the Cult of Akerra, but could he find enough evidence to back up his hunch, something more than the rumors of a few frightened men?
“Anna.”
Brad was just outside the barn. He came toward me, still favoring his swollen ankle. He was breathing hard. His hair was damp with sweat despite the cold.
“Brad, where have you been?”
He gestured behind him. “Up to the old cabin.”
“You shouldn’t have climbed way up there.”
“Well, I did. And guess what? Everything’s gone.”
“Gone?”
“It’s completely bare. Someone’s taken everything away.”
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He reached down to rub at his ankle. His face was suddenly very pale.
“You’d better go back to the house and get off of that leg.”
“I guess you’re right. Coming with me?”
“No, I’ll be in later.”
I walked down the rutted road leading to the bunkhouses, not stopping until I reached the shabby duplex on the end. I rapped on the door. There was no reply. I knocked again, knowing full well that Graciana must be inside. “Graciana?” I called. A curtain moved, then fell back into place like a whisper. I waited. The door remained closed.
With a sigh of defeat, I turned and began to walk away. I passed the corrals and began to follow the path up the hillside. I wanted to see for myself the empty cabin.
I hadn’t gone far when I heard the crunch of footsteps behind me in the light snow.
“Miss Anna?”
Without turning, I recognized Victor’s voice. I could hear him almost directly behind me now, growing nearer and nearer. Knowing there was no way to avoid him, I spun around to face him.
“What is it, Victor?”
I hadn’t expected him to be so close. He was within an arm’s reach of me. I could hear his ragged breathing, smell the curious odor of earth-smells that came from his muddy clothing. His gaze was on me, his eyes filled with a disturbing brightness.
“What is it, Victor?” I demanded, edging away from his uncomfortable nearness.
A large hand, a bear’s paw, reached out and caught my wrist in a crushing grasp, detaining me. Now, his dark eyes
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glittered insanely above the slackness of his massive, animallike jaw as he spoke rapidly.
“I saw them last night. The Sorguinak.” He gestured into the darkness of the canyon below us. “They were down there again.” His voice was filled with a chilling kind of excitement as he finished, “They made sacrifice. There was blood on the rocks this morning.”
I felt sudden alarm race through me.
“Blood,” he repeated. “Fresh blood.” Then he was gone, disappearing into the darkness below.
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Chapter 23
For a moment, I stood motionless, stunned by his words. Then I moved over to the edge of the rocks, peering down into the dark, sunless depths of the canyon below. Scraggly pinion and juniper, their limbs burdened with snow, cast twisted shadows over the blue-black stones, stones that looked as if they’d been thrown at random against that hazy carpet of snow and sagebrush by some angry giant.
Victor was nowhere in sight. I hesitated, wondering if I should go back to the house and get someone to come with me, but something drew me into the darkness below, into that yawning abyss. The air grew damper and cooler as I made my way downward, mud and snow clinging to my boots, down to where the huge boulders marked the entrance into the shadow netherworld of the Black Canyon.
Once I paused, thinking of turning back. The trail was becoming slick and hard to follow, but I was almost there. I’d reached the twisted trees marking the entrance into the clearing. Taking a deep breath, I moved straight ahead to where the altar-stone waited, hidden behind that last clump of black, unkempt juniper and sage.
The air had suddenly grown still. It seemed even the natural sounds of birds calling overhead and small creatures
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rustling in the sagebrush had stopped. For a moment, frozen in space, I stared down at the altar, transfixed, unable to turn away. Shivering, I took in the grisly sight of the blood-washed stone with its veins of crimson darkening the muddy white snow.
If there was blood, then there must be sacrifice, but, where? Slowly, my frightened gaze moved from the altar to scan the clump of scraggly trees and bushes nearby. Then I caught sight of something poking out from beneath the dark brush. A shoe.
“No…” I whispered. “No…” I could feel the blood rushing dizzily to my head, making a clogging blackness fall over my vision. I was aware that my mouth had opened, yet no scream would come. It stayed buried deep inside of me. Only a mute, tiny choking sound disturbed the terrible stillness of the clearing. Gagging, I turned away from the sight of the partially nude body sprawled so stiffly, so grotesquely, like a discarded rag doll on the brittle carpet of sage and snow. I forced my stare away from the pale corpse, the jagged, ribbon-slashes of crimson, the sightless, staring eyes, the matted tangles of golden hair, turning away from the ghastly knowledge that Colleen would never be coming home.
