* * *
The next morning,Roark and Loretta took the Hummer back to LA, leaving Evie and Jax to climb Glass Mountain in search of Jax’s ghosts. Beating the ground with a stick to chase off snakes, Evie had second thoughts about her choice.
“Did Marge’s aura tell you she’s not poor?” Jax demanded, in lieu of polite conversation.
“Her aura is a muddy gray in her root chakra, and she’s seriously cautious, possibly to the point of paranoia. She probably went through everything in our cars during the night.”
“That doesn’t tell me she’s rich.” Jax took the hill at an unreasonable rate, not sounding concerned about having his car searched.
Evie followed Jax more slowly, swinging her stick. “Come on, Jackson, use your eyes. She was wearing a Rolex, and she had a hot tub in thedesert. Her shack was air-conditioned, with no visible sign of electrical wiring. I’m guessing she has a private solar panel set-up out of sight. The electric company doesn’t bury wires in a place like this.”
“I read documents, not people.” Sounding irked, Jax handed her a water bottle. “You should have gone to LA and had a little fun.”
“My head is scary enough without having imaginary creatures from a theme park in it.”
Roark and Loretta had bonded over computer games. Evie had a feeling that despite his brilliant mind and educated background, the Cajun hadn’t had much of a childhood, and his inner child needed nourishment. Loretta would have more fun at the theme park with him, while Evie did what she knew best—hunt ghosts.
“Do you even know where the mine is?” She slugged the water and shouted at Jax’s back. The man had to be half goat.
Trudging up the hill, she wondered if she could Google hotels with spas in LA. And if relaxing in hot water might focus her spinning thoughts. And if snakes preferred dawn to emerge. Plus, some of the spirits out here were really disgusting. She ignored the one in rags miming being hanged, complete with gaping tongue and bulging eyes. Sociopath probably deserved to die.
“There’s a mine.” Jax reached back to grab her hand and haul her over boulders from an old mudslide covering the road. “There are a few timbers at the site, what appears to be a collapsed depression, and we’re walking the remains of an old road. But this place is littered with old mines. I may need to hire someone who understands mining maps to find the right one.”
“Have you looked up whoever took over Franklin Jackson’s law office? If Franklin and Ives were partners, the office might have their personal files.” Liking Jax’s rough hand around hers too much, Evie yanked away and stopped to admire the scenery.
Unfortunately, chaparral looked the same everywhere she turned.
“I left them for last. I’m disinclined to appear like a desperate heir hoping to score a windfall, and I don’t have any other good excuse.” Not even breathing hard, Jax continued upward, giving her a nice view of his tight butt in jeans.
She could think of two things at once. Better go with the obvious. “Money is generally the root of all evil. Let’s hope you’renotan heir.”
“Cliché. Money can provide food and shelter. But if there’s evil to be had, money can be one factor. I wouldn’t rule out lust, envy, revenge, and all that, though. You need to be open-minded.”
Evie snorted. “About evil? Listen to the bigot who believes all psychics are frauds. But I’ll agree it’s probably safer to avoid anyone who might be connected to Ives and Jackson until Loretta and I can take a look at them.”
Jax hooted. “Right, that’s exactly what I mean to do, fling two females into a potential snake pit first. If you come out alive, maybe I’ll go in.”
Evie picked up a pebble and flung it at his back. “I’d be far more useful reading auras of people who may have known your father than climbing a hill to nowhere.”
Jax turned and waited for her to catch up. “You keep demanding respect, but you need to respect whatIdo. It’s not all about you, okay? Roark is better at ferreting out info on the internet than I am. Let him do his job. Once we have a defined path to follow, we’ll know if your talents can advance our cause. Admit that knowing more about people helps you read them.”
Evie pondered that as she studied the collapsed hole in the ground he’d brought her to. “Different observances,” she concluded. “When I first met you, your aura said you were a ruthless killer. Butobservationallowed me to understand you were ex-military, so your killing days might be behind you. I didn’t act on first impressions but waited to see how you would behave.”
“And now?” He poked around a pile of scorched lumber, scattering the snakes and scorpions into the brush before heaving the boards aside.
“I see you growing beyond your anger, so I know the anger isn’t all you are. First impressions simply show me how to approach someone. Knowing who someone is allows me to see potential.”
He kicked aside what might once have been tar paper. “Well, it’s hard to know someone if all you have is a genealogy chart and a packet of papers. And it’s hard for me to understand what you can determine that might help.” He studied what appeared to be a large stone cairn buried beneath the rotted boards and tar paper he’d just kicked off.
“A memorial.” Evie studied the stones, but she didn’t see any aura that might indicate an ectoplasmic presence. Finding the ghost of Jax’s long-dead father—or partner—would be too much to hope for.
“All it tells us is that someone may have died here. If there was ever a shelter or storage or any indication that people mined this area, it’s vanished without a trace.” Jax kicked a loose stone.
“Not quite without a trace. You have those old timbers to start with.” Evie crouched down and pried some of the smaller rocks loose. The cairn was hip high and constructed with boulders large enough to discourage disturbing the pile. “And there are ashes mixed with the dust indicating the rest of the timbers may have burned. See, the silica in the dust sparkles. But this gray stuff...”
“Could simply mean a hunter had a campfire.” Jax crouched beside her.
“The timber was up here for a reason. You’ve found a mine, although it might not be the one you want. The stones, however, suggest a deliberate memorial. Someone wanted what happened here to be remembered. People often put mementos under them.” She pried more of the smaller stones loose.