Domino. Part 20

I opened my eyes and looked around. The tunnel had wound through the shoulder of the mountain, to come out near the stand of spruce where a lone horseman had sat earlier, watching my progress up the valley. It was that rider who must have waited, knowing I would come, who must have knotted Red's leash and locked me into the mine.

I looked at Jon and saw that his head bandage showed the seeping of fresh blood.

"You've started to bleed again," I said. "You should never have come out. But how lucky for me that you did."

"I'm all right," he a.s.sured me. "I sc.r.a.ped myself on the rock in there. When Sam told me you'd ridden out here looking for Red, I came as fast as I could. It's a good thing I kept shouting for you along the way. This old tunnel's been lost for as far back as I can remember. I knew it was supposed to be around here somewhere, but n.o.body recalled any longer where the opening was. This is where old Dominoes gophered his way to silver."

He was giving me the time I needed by talking.

"The old man started to take out ore before Tremayne and Morgan came along and bought the claim from him. Those old hard-rockers could put in an operation all on their own, or vith a partner or two. Most mining was just hard labor anyway. Drilling, picking their way into the rock, planting explosives, and shoveling out blast waste and ore rock-all that was done by hand."

I still wanted to postpone what must be talked about, and I knew Jon was humoring me.

"Why did they work that hard for so little?" I asked, to keep him talking.

"Lure of the treasure hunt, I suppose. Over the years brush swallowed the opening and that tree fell across it. Red must have found his way in, perhaps chasing a chipmunk. Then I suppose he couldn't get out."

"He couldn't get out because someone put him there," I said.

Jon didn't seem surprised. "Can you talk about it now?"

"I have to talk about it. Someone phoned the house and told Caleb he'd heard a dog barking out near the mine. So I rode up here to see for myself. When I reached this spot, I thought I heard Red whining, but I wasn't sure, so I went on to the mine. The door was open and-"

"Open?" Jon broke in. "Smashed open?"

"No. The padlock must have been opened with a key. I went just inside the entrance and started to call for Red. When he answered me, I went in a little farther to locate the direction. I remembered what you said about mines, and I wasn't going to explore. But someone shut the door behind me and closed the padlock."

"G.o.d!" Jon said, and the word had an angry sound. He reached for me again and put both arms around me as we sat on the ground.

I had to know more. "Who would have a key to the mine?"

"Your grandmother, of course. And I have one that she had made for me. It's hanging right where I keep it. Her key is at the house."

"Gail," I said. "She must have taken it. She's working with Ingram, and I suppose she could have given the key to him. When I rode out from the ranch, a man on a horse was I.

watching me from right about here. Too far away for me to recognize."

"Tell me the rest," Jon said, and I heard the grim note in his voice.

I told him as best I could. About having a flashlight, thanks to Sam. About finding the right tunnel and starting my long crawl through it toward the sound of Red's frantic response. I was trying to sound matter-of-fact and keep the memory of panic out of my voice, but Jon heard.

"Never mind," he said. "You don't have to suffer through it again. You found Red and I found you."

"First I found Noah Armand," I told him.

He put me at arm's length so he could look into my face, questioning.

"There's always been a mystery about what happened to Noah," I said. "I had a feeling that they'd never told me the whole truth. I still don't know what happened. But his bones are back there in the mine. I had to crawl past them."

As I spoke I could remember that moment all too vividly.

Jon gave me a small shake. "Hang on, Laurie. Don't jump to conclusions. Old bones in a lost mine could belong to anyone. Nothing points to Noah Armand for sure, does it?"

"I suppose an identification could be made, if it came to that. I suppose there would be bits of clothing or jewelry. All I know is that he is part of whatever happened. Jon, I went into the back parlor today, and I opened that box. I remembered. You know what I did, don't you? You know that I loaded one of those deringers that my grandmother had kept, and I shot and killed my own father."

He held me rightly. "I only know rumors. Hints my mother dropped. Take it easy, Laurie."

I could talk now, with my head against his chest, though words came out starkly.

"I remembered some of it. I remembered firing the gun. And A.

234.

Caleb told me the rest. Persis had told me some of it, tooearlier. That my mother was going to run away with Noah Armand. My father came home in time to find his wife in the back parlor, probably in Noah's arms. I was there behind a sofa, playing with those deringers. So when I thought Noah was going to hurt my father, I must have shot, meaning to stop him. Instead it was my father who died." My words faded sickly away.

Jon held me, and there was a deep tenderness in him. For a moment I clung to him. Then he sat me up away from him.

"We'd better start back soon." My face was still wet with tears, and he touched a ringer to my cheek. "Don't look like that. You didn't kill Richard Morgan. A child did. A child who couldn't possibly know what she was doing. Someone from a long time ago. If you'd grown up with the knowledge, you'd feel easier now. It's come too suddenly, and that can be shattering. Just give yourself time."

He drew me up and I stood close to him. "Jon, last night at that awful dinner I told Mark Ingram that I'm going to stay here with my grandmother. So perhaps that's why he had me locked in the mine."

"Could be. Let's get back to the ranch now, so you can tell your grandmother the whole thing."

"But that will worry her-and she's helpless."

"Not so helpless now that you're here. She'll want to know."

"Even about those bones?"

"Everything. Though she may already know about them. If she hasn't always acted wisely in the past, then she needs everything you can tell her so that she can deal with the present now."

"Must it be reported?"

"It should be, I suppose, but let's wait until you've told Persis."

"What are you going to do now?"

I'd never seen him look so grim. "I mean to have a talk with Ingram as soon as possible. Up you go on Sundance. Give rne your foot."

I didn't want to take his horse. He had been hurt far more seriously than I. Except for a few cuts and sc.r.a.pes, all my hurts were inner. But I knew there was no use arguing with Jon Maddocks, and when I was in the saddle, holding the reins gingerly, he walked beside me, a hand on the bridle, quieting Sundance, who was feeling mettlesome. I'd undipped Red's leash, but he had no wish to stray from me again, and he came along willingly when I called him.

As we started down the valley, I thought of an old question that still troubled me. We were closer now, Jon and I, and I could ask him.

"What did you mean when you said I had to earn the right to know?"

He looked up at me, and again there was a tenderness in him that I yearned toward. "You're earning your way just fine, Laurie. I'm sorry it's had to be so rough. When you come out on the other side you'll know for sure what you're made of."

Would I? Would I ever know for sure? I certainly didn't know right now.

Jon pointed ahead, and I saw that Baby Doe had been tethered near a few cottonwoods by the stream below the trail. She stamped and whinnied her impatience at the sight of us.

"The mare was left far enough away from the mine," Jon said, "so that when she was found it would look as though you'd tied her here and wandered off. Yet she couldn't get home on her own. A delaying tactic."

"Do you suppose I'd have been left in the mine? I mean-"

"Don't think about that. You're out. Come on down and I'll Put you on your own horse."

This time when I dropped into his arms, he let me go quickly, his manner turned brusque, as though his thoughts were already moving ahead, gathering anger for an encounter in which I could take no part. I trusted him to act wisely, but at the same time I was a little afraid. Mark Ingram was more a power than a man, and I didn't know whether Jon could stand up against him.

We rode down the valley together, and when we reached the barn we said nothing in the face of Sam's surprise at our appearance. Jon was only a little less dirt-smeared than I, but this was no time for explanations.

"Better go clean up, Laurie," Jon said, "before you see your grandmother."

I looked into smoky gray eyes and saw kindness there, and a concern for me that almost brought the tears, but I didn't find what I most wanted. I turned Red over to Sam and walked away quickly.

At the house the same look of surprise that Sam had shown met me in Caleb's eyes as he came downstairs from my grandmother's room.

"What has happened to you?" he asked.

I explained briefly. "I went looking for Red and I was shut into the mine on Old Desolate. It was lucky that Jon Maddocks came looking for me and helped me to get out."

"Shut in?" He continued to stare at me.

"Yes, and the padlock closed. Who was it that phoned you about hearing Red on the mountain?"

"I have no idea. He didn't give his name, though he said he'd talked to Belle. But, Laurie, how could you possibly-"

"It was a trick." I broke in on his disbelieving words. "Someone tied Red inside an old tunnel, and when I took the bait the door was shut on me. And locked."

He looked genuinely dismayed, but I couldn't trust him now. I couldn't trust anyone.

"How did you get into the mine?" he asked.

I.

237.

"The door was left open. On purpose, I suppose. Where does my grandmother keep the key?"

He moved to a small table in the hall. "Keys not often in use are kept in this drawer. Here you are. You can see that the key is tagged."

I took the ordinary padlock key from him and read the name Old Desolate on the tag. The key had either been replaced quickly or another one existed besides Jon's. I gave it back.

"Nevertheless," I said, "the door was open when I went in, and it was shut on me and locked." I didn't like his air of skepticism, and I started past him up the stairs. "As soon as I've showered and changed my clothes, I'll want to see my grandmother. She must be told about what has happened."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," he said.

I paused on the stairs to look down at him. "What do you mean-it won't be possible?"

His expression was as disapproving of me as ever. "I mean that Mrs. Morgan has been unconscious for several hours. We've sent for Dr. Burton, but it may take a while for him to arrive."

For a moment longer I stood staring down at him. Then I ran up to Persis Morgan's room. Gail waited in the doorway, and she didn't mean to let me in.

XV.

"I want to see my grandmother," I said to Gail.

Caleb had come up the stairs behind me, and he put a hand on my arm. "Let her be, Laurie. She won't know you now."

He had aligned himself with the nurse, and neither of them wanted me in that room.

"Just let me by," I said.

Gail shrugged and stepped out of my way.

From downstairs I heard Hillary's voice. "Laurie, are you there? Is anybody home?"

I called down to him, glad for an ally of my own. "I'm up here. Come upstairs, Hillary."

I didn't wait for him, but walked into the darkened room. Hillary must have heard the tension in my voice, for he came up the stairs two at a time.

"What's going on?" he said as he joined me, dropping his voice.

"Persis is unconscious," I told him. "And Gail and Caleb don't want me in her room."

His eyebrows raised expressively and he looked around at them. Neither spoke or offered further objections.

239.

Heavy draperies of an oppressive brown had been pulled across the windows to shut out the light, and the room seemed airless, its very atmosphere stifling. From the bed I could hear Persis Morgan's heavy breathing. I ran to the window and pulled aside all that dark weight, raised the sashes to let in air and sunshine. Looking out, I glimpsed the town, bustling with activity as it did all day, the mountains rising austerely behind. Then I went to the bed and bent over my grandmother's still figure.

She lay on her back, her mouth slightly open, her breathing stertorous. One hand lay outside the covers, and I touched it.

"Grandmother, can you hear me?"

"Of course she can't hear you," Caleb said from the doorway, but he kept his voice low.

"I don't think she's asleep," I said. "And I don't think she's unconscious because she's ill. I think she's been drugged. There was too much sedation this time, wasn't there?"

Gail came into the room, crisply in charge. "She's had no more than her usual pills," she a.s.sured me.

I doubted that, and I stood beside the bed, trying to think what to do.

Hillary put an arm about me. "I don't know what's happened to you, Laurie, but you'd better go and clean up. Then you're coming with me. There's no way you can help your grandmother right now."

That wasn't true. I must think of something. But about one thing he was right. I needed to shower and bathe my cuts. Then, when I felt better, I would know what to do.

"When will the doctor be here?" I asked.