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Savich said, “We’ll go back to the cave tomorrow. We’re going to find out what happened to you.”

Ruth clutched at his hand. “The thought of going back there scares me, way down to some primal part of me. You know, like there are saber-toothed tigers prowling outside and I’m huddled next to a fire, but it’s not enough to protect me.”

Sherlock shivered, despite herself. “I wish I didn’t understand, Ruth, but I’ve felt the same way about a place—that maze I was in—but never mind that.”

Ruth settled Brewster back in her lap, caressed his soft ears, and stared at the brisk fire in the fireplace.

Dix leaned forward. “You okay, Ruth?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I just spaced out for a moment. Everything that’s happened since Friday—it’s a little overwhelming.” She dashed tears out of her eyes, then took on a defiant look. “I’m going to shut up about that now. I’m a hard-ass, I’m going to begin acting like it.”

“You can howl at the moon if you want to.” Dix laughed. “What you’ve been through, Ruth, it’s enough to make my macho socks shake off my feet.”

“The important thing is that we’re all here and we’ll get to the bottom of this,” Sherlock said. She gathered Ruth in her arms and hugged her tight as Brewster pushed his nose between them. “You are a hard-ass, and don’t forget it. Now, I want you to tell me caving isn’t that hard. Neither Dillon nor I have ever been off the beaten tourist track in a public cave.”

Ruth pulled herself together. “You have to be real careful. I didn’t find many really tough spots to navigate in Winkel’s Cave, even in the unmapped parts, and that’s probably why the soldiers used the cave to stash their gold bars. The thing is, you’re never supposed to cave alone, so I guess I’m an idiot. I was so excited about this, I told myself I didn’t need to have Luther with me.”

“Yeah,” Dix said, nodding, “that about covers it. You were an idiot. I’m a rank amateur and you couldn’t pay me to go into an uncharted part of a cave by myself, even armed with million-watt searchlights.”

“Thank you, Professor Noble,” Ruth said. She turned to Sherlock. “I love it when a man agrees with me. In any case, I’ll guide you—even though I don’t have the map, I pretty much remember the route I took through the cave. It won’t be too bad, I promise. I’ve been in much tougher caves, like having to belly-crawl through cold water or rappelling down sheer walls and not knowing what’s waiting for you at the bottom—praying there will be a bottom—or shimmying through passages that are too small for a twelve-year-old.

“There aren’t even any real claustrophobic spots in Winkel’s Cave that make your skin crawl, at least that I saw. I didn’t see any bats or cave animals, and there are supposed to be Virginia big-eared bats in the caves around here. It will be chilly, fifty-four degrees is the average temperature, but we won’t have to wade through any streams. We won’t be down there long enough to worry about hypothermia. We’ll need plenty of light, that’s the most important thing.”

She paused. “I have to know what I ran into when I was in that cavern. I wish I could remember. Was there something I wasn’t supposed to see? Did someone pull me out of there? But if they wanted to help me, why did they hit me over the head and leave me lying unconscious in the sheriff’s woods? Fact is, I probably would have died if Brewster hadn’t found me. And then those two men tried to break into the house and shot at me. If they wanted me dead, why did they leave me alive in the first place?”

“Stop worrying so much, Ruth, we’ll find out,” Dix told her. “Hey, Madonna, we already found out what your name is.”

It was lovely to laugh a bit, to let the terror of Winkel’s Cave fade for a few moments at least. Ruth asked Savich, “How did you find me?”

Savich laughed. “Trust me, Ruth, lots of people know the sheriff found a woman in his woods. And everyone knows all about that high-speed chase on the interstate in the blizzard last night and how those two yahoos tried to kill the woman who was staying at the sheriff’s house.”

Sherlock added, “They even sent your picture out over the wires for identification.” She patted Ruth’s hand. “And now we’re staying here until we figure everything out.”

“But, Dillon, I’m the lead on the Tiller case.”

Savich said easily, “I’ll give Dane a call. He can handle it. Don’t worry.”


Tags: Catherine Coulter FBI Thriller Mystery