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Ruth said, “It looks sort of like a Christmas tree. I’ll bet it’s a favorite for photographers.”

“Yeah, but mostly from a distance. Few people come up here,” Chappy said, wiping snow off his arms. “My wife loved to paint that tree, in every season. A lot of people can see it from all around here.” Chappy pointed to the far side of the gully. “Over there, by that bent old pine tree, that’s where the cave opening is. That old tree looked near death when I was a boy. It still looks like it’s about to fall over.”

Once they’d made it across the gully and climbed up some six feet, Chappy stopped. “The opening must be right there, beneath all that brush.”

The brush came away easily, too easily. Savich stepped back when Dix began to shovel away the snow that had fallen through the brush. When he hit solid rock, he looked over his shoulder at Chappy. “You’re sure, Chappy? There doesn’t seem to be an opening here. Should I try to the left or the right?”

Chappy shook his head. “Nope, right there, Dix, by the twisted old bush. I’m not totally senile yet.”

“Wait a minute,” Savich said. He squatted down and wiped away the remaining dirt and snow with his gloved hand. “Chappy’s right. This is the spot all right. That brush came away awfully easy, didn’t it, Dix? It looks like somebody’s packed a bunch of rocks in here. To hide the entrance.”

“They did a nice job of it,” Sherlock said. “It’s invisible until you brush it clean and look real close. This could be where you got out, Ruth. It looks like somebody’s trying to cover up that cave from both ends.”

“Dix, you think you can pry those rocks out of the way with your shovel?” Ruth asked.

“Let’s give it a shot,” Dix said. He wedged the shovel beneath the lowest rocks and shoved it down into the earth. It took a lot of muscle, but after five minutes, Sherlock had pulled out the last stone. They caught their breath, staring at a cave opening in the side of the hill, maybe four feet high, three feet wide. They looked into blackness.

“Just a moment, Dix,” Chappy said, elbowing his way forward. “Let me check this out first.” Chappy leaned down into the opening. “Yep, I remember now. There’s the easy slope downward, to the right. You have to press hard to the right because two feet to the left there’s a nearly sheer wall that plunges straight down. When I was a teenage boy with more luck than brains, I tried to rappel down. Maybe twenty feet later I freaked out because out of nowhere bats were swarming all around me, heading up to the cave entrance.

“I remember that right-hand passage led to one big chamber. I don’t remember any connections to Winkel’s Cave, but I suppose there may be some small ones.

“I’ll go first. You follow close behind me, single file. I remember it widens out pretty fast.”

Dix laid his hand on his father-in-law’s shoulder. “Ruth might have been exposed to gas in there, Chappy. There could be residue. I don’t want you swooning away at my feet. Think of your reputation. I’d prefer it if you’d let me go in first. I’ll be careful, I’ll keep pressed to the right.”

“I hate it when a snot-nosed kid plays sheriff.”

Dix laughed. “I’m paid to push you out, old man, if it means keeping you safe.” Dix lifted his flashlight to shine it down into the opening. It sloped down but the ceiling was more or less level, so it was well over six feet high very quickly. And it looked narrow, but not so much that he couldn’t get through. He eased through the opening, climbed down five steps to the right, and called back, “It’s seems okay down here so far.”

They followed him in, Savich bringing up the rear. Dix stopped when the space widened enough for them to all stand together. They shone their head lamps around them in the small space, and realized they’d been walking along a limestone ledge.

“Well, that’ll make your blood pump a bit,” Ruth said. She walked over to the edge and panned her head lamp upward. She saw glistening stalactites spearing down from a ceiling that was another twenty feet above them. She couldn’t see the bottom. “The limestone is stained. Look, it’s been gouged out in places. I wonder why.”

“It smells nice and fresh in here,” Savich said, “which means all that rock and dirt wasn’t piled in that opening for very long, not long enough for the air to go stale. Since someone went to all the trouble of hiding the entrance, this must be the place we’re looking for.”

They made their way slowly and carefully down the ledge. Ruth asked Chappy, “The chamber this passage opens into, do you remember how big it is?”


Tags: Catherine Coulter FBI Thriller Mystery