Earthcrack: A Lin Hanna Mystery (41 page)

***

Lin fought her way back to consciousness
through the dense fog that seemed to envelop her body.
 
Where am I she thought—what
happened?
 
Her head was throbbing
and her injured shoulder was on fire—in fact, she hurt all over.
 
Her mouth was dry and there was a
ringing in her ears.
 
Straining, she
managed to open her eyes.
 
She lay
in a narrow space up against a pile of juniper branches.
 
Steep walls rose on either side.
 
Slowly she realized she was in the earth
crack!
 
This was the spot where
Cullen Honeyestewa’s body had been found. She managed to roll over a bit and
tried to look at her watch but the face was shattered.
 
It wasn’t dark yet—she could still
see light above her—but she had no way of knowing how long she had been unconscious.
 
She tried to call out but could manage
only a thin rasp—her throat was so dry. She needed water.
 
She closed her eyes and lay still—trying
to gather her strength.
  
She
tried calling out a couple of times but was not sure her voice would be audible
to anyone in the area.
 
Finally, she
felt like she was fully conscious.
 
Her body was racked with pain but she knew she had to try to move. She
needed to find water.

 
Lin had the thought that Sessions might
have tossed her daypack, which held her water bottle, in the crack after
her.
 
That might make it appear that
she had fallen in accidentally, after all.
 
He wouldn’t have wanted to leave her things where they could be easily
found and he surely wouldn’t have wanted them on his person!

Lin gathered her strength.
 
The spot where she lay was narrow but,
with careful maneuvering, she could manage to push herself against one wall and
maybe move about.
 
She remembered
that Neal’s student had been able to walk into the area.
 
It seemed as if it took her forever to
sit up, leaning her back against the wall.
 
Her head was spinning and she knew she could not stand—she had
discovered that her ankle was painful anyway and probably wouldn’t support her
weight.
 
Carefully, she rolled
sideways onto her knees and looked about.

There! She spotted her pack about ten
feet away.
 
Slowly she began to
crawl toward it.
 
The earth crack
narrowed in that direction but she managed to ease her body forward until the
pack was within reach.
 
Painfully,
she raised her good left arm—at least it used to be good.
 
She could still move it but it hurt—probably
bruised—she thought.
 
She
managed to grasp the pack and drag it toward her.
 
She crawled backward to a wide spot
where she could manage to sit and lean back against the side of the earth crack.
 
Her right arm was totally useless.
 
The slightest movement brought severe
pain but she managed to place the pack on her legs.

It seemed like hours, but it probably
took her only a few minutes to work the zipper loose with her better hand.
 
Groping inside the bag she managed to
locate her water bottle and the granola bars.
 
Fortunately, the water bottle had a flip
up spout that she could manage with one hand.
 
The liquid eased her parched throat—never
had a drink of water felt so good.

Lin wanted to keep drinking but realized
she needed to conserve her limited supply so she turned to the granola
bar.
 
Finding that she couldn’t tear
the wrapper with only one hand, she resorted to biting through it to reach the
salty, nutty treat. She chewed the first welcome bite—spitting out the
paper.
 
Chewing made her injured
head throb more but the food seemed to help clear her thoughts.

Lin surveyed her surroundings.
 
She was wedged against the wall of the
earth crack.
 
The junipers she had
originally landed against were to her right.
 
To her left the crack narrowed initially
but then opened up a bit. The walls seemed higher at that point.
 
She realized she could never get herself
out.
 
Her only hope was that someone
would come to her rescue—otherwise—Lin tried not to imagine slowly
dying in this place.
 
Was that what
had happened to Cullen?

Thinking of Cullen reminded Lin of
Michael.
 
She remembered the shots
ringing out before Sessions struck her—had Michael managed to escape or
was his body sprawled atop the ruin where he thought he had found the pots?

Refusing to dwell on Michael’s fate, Lin
focused instead on the fact that Danielle would have returned, expecting to
meet them.
 
She would have realized
something was wrong and initiated a search.
 
The question was would anyone think to
look here soon enough? What if they had already looked here while she was
unconscious and unable to hear them?
 
Any searchers might have already moved on to other places.

Lin took one more drink of her precious
water and then forced herself to close the bottle.
 
Looking up she saw that the light was fading—soon
it would be dark.
 
She must have
been unconscious for several hours.
 
Maybe she was right and this area had indeed already been searched. She
couldn’t have called out and, if anyone looked, she might have been hidden
against the juniper branches.
 
The
thought was frightening and Lin tried to push it from her mind.
 
She tried to stay focused.
 
I will listen for noise above, she
thought.
 
I’ll save my voice and
call out only if I hear someone up there.

Lin tried to remain alert, listening, but
she felt herself becoming groggy again.
 
I have to stay awake, she thought—I can’t sleep!
 
She tried to focus on her discomfort—she
dared not drink anything more just yet—nor eat her remaining granola
bar.
 
She began to think about her
family, about her plans for her grandchildren’s upcoming visit—where
would they go and what would they do.
 
That worked for a while but eventually, Lin lapsed into a troubled
sleep.
 
She could not stay awake.

She awoke with a start—she heard
footsteps somewhere up above!
 
Gravel
fell into the earth crack a short distance away—but she didn’t hear any
voices.
 
Someone was there, she was
sure of that, but who was it?
 
Was
it a rescuer or had Sessions returned to see if she was already dead?
 
Lin realized her own dilemma—stay
quiet and convince Sessions, if that’s who it was, that she was dead or risk
calling out in case rescue was at hand.

Lin decided she had to take a chance—she
knew she would die anyway if she didn’t get out of this place.
 
She managed a feeble cry for help, “I’m here,
in the earth crack!”
 
She heard more
gravel hit the walls ahead of her and a strong beam of light appeared.

“I see her,” it was Danielle’s
voice,
 
“She’s about ten feet ahead
of us but it’s too narrow to climb down there.
 
We’ll have to go in here, but we should
be able to reach her. I knew we were right to come back here to search again!”

Relief coursed through Lin’s painful body.
 
She didn’t try to call out again.
 
She let herself relax against the wall
and closed her eyes to wait for her rescuers.
 
She could hear small rocks falling as
someone scrabbled down the side—most likely on a rope like the students
had used.
 
When she heard steps
heading toward her, she opened her eyes.

Neal Smith scrambled toward her—falling
to his knees as he wrapped his arms around her, “Oh, Lin—I thought I had
lost you!” his voice cracked with emotion.

Lin managed a smile, “Watch it,” she said—reaching
for his arms with her good hand.
 
“I
hurt all over.”
 
Lin let herself
collapse into the fog which sought to envelop her, “It was John,” she managed
to murmur, “John Sessions.”
 
The fog
won and her world once again went blank.

She became aware again, when Neal lifted
her into the rope sling that had been lowered into the earth crack at the wider
point.
 
The pain was almost
unbearable as her body was tugged upward and she couldn’t help crying out.
 
Mercifully, she lost consciousness again
as they brought her out of the crack and placed her on the ground.

The next time Lin awoke she found herself
back in a hospital room, presumably at Flagstaff Medical Center.
 
This is getting to be a habit she
thought.
 
She glanced around the
room.
 
Sue Gray was once more seated
nearby—a book in hand.
 
What
appeared to be late afternoon sun was streaming in the window.

Lin managed to turn her head and ask, “What
day is it and where am I?
 
What
happened?”

“It’s Monday afternoon,” Sue said as she
approached the bed and offered Lin a sip of water, “can you not remember
anything? …Maybe not, you had another concussion—worse this time.”

Lin started to shake her head in a
negative response, but a throbbing headache stopped her cold.
 
She managed to sip more water and was
able to speak, “All I remember is being in the earth crack— but I don’t
remember how I got there,” She felt herself drifting back into the fog but she
heard Sue’s voice, “Just rest for now.
 
I’ll tell you all about it later—next time you’re awake.”

***

The next time didn’t come until
morning.
 
Lin awoke to find a brisk
business-like male nurse gently lifting her in the bed and placing her against
a wall of cushioning pillows.

“Time to wake up and smell the roses!” he
grinned, pointing to a tall vase of lovely yellow blooms sitting on the
dresser.
 
“You’ve slept pretty
soundly during the night.
 
How do
you feel now?”

Lin silently took an inventory of her
pain—head, shoulder, ankle—general aches all over. “Sorta like I’ve
been hit by a truck,” she murmured, “at least like I imagine that would feel.”

“Pretty close,” the nurse was a big, strong
fellow, as evidenced by the ease with which he was able to lift and shift her
body to make her more comfortable. “Apparently you were dropped about ten or
twelve feet into that earth crack!”

“By the way, the fella who brought those,”
he nodded at the roses with a genial smile, “is waiting at the end of the hall—been
there all night…”

“ Send him in,” Lin smiled.
 
The nurse straightened her bed a bit and
checked her IV before leaving.
 

Soon, Neal appeared in the doorway.
 
There were tears in his eyes and Lin
felt herself tearing up also.
 
Neal
came to her side and grasped the rail on her hospital bed.
 
Without touching her body at all, he
leaned over and placed his lips gently on hers—kissing her lightly.
 
She found herself responding, her lips
seeking his more hungrily.
 
His
answering kiss was deep and passionate. He broke away but Lin wouldn’t let him
go—her lips still seeking his.

In a few moments, Neal pulled away more
forcibly, reaching for a chair that he pulled up to the side of the bed.
 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, “not
until you’re out of the woods, anyway.
 
Then you can send me packing if you want too,” his eyes sought hers,
searchingly.

“Why would I want to do that?”
 
Lin managed to say.
 
Sleep seemed to be once again overtaking
her.
 

“I’ll tell you later,” Neal smiled at her
as he stroked the hair from her forehead, “you rest now.”
 
His piercing blue eyes were the last
things Lin saw as she drifted into a peaceful slumber.

***

Lin wasn’t sure how long she slept but
when she awoke Dr. Barnes was entering her room, accompanied by the male nurse
who had attended her earlier.

Dr. Barnes greeted her, asked a few
questions, and then proceeded with his examination.
 
As he probed and poked her still painful
body he recited the list of injuries she had sustained. “ Another concussion—somewhat
worse than the first one but still it could have been even more dangerous—you
were lucky there.
 
Not so lucky with
the shoulder.
 
You evidently landed
on it when you were dropped.
 
I went
in yesterday and cleaned out some damaged tissue but I’ll need to do surgery
this time.
 
When you recover
sufficiently from the concussion, we’ll probably have to put in a plate,” he
spoke purposefully.
 
“Other than
that you have a badly sprained ankle and a multitude of scrapes and bruises.”
 
He smiled, “You need to stop playing
detective!”

Lin tried to protest but the words wouldn’t
come.
 
She looked up to see that
Danielle and Billy Taylor, accompanied by Neal and Sue Gray, were entering her
room.
 
She struggled to sit up—but
the pain brought her back down.

Dr. Barnes observed her discomfort. “Now
that you are awake and seem to be more clear headed, we can up your pain meds,”
he nodded toward the nurse who was busy elevating her bed again, “Bobby here
will see to that and I will leave you with these folks.
 
See you tomorrow.”

Lin smiled gratefully at Bobby as he
emptied a syringe into her IV tube and settled her back against the
pillows.
 
All four of her visitors
had managed to crowd into the tiny room and were surrounding her bed.

“OK folks, now tell me everything—including
what happened to Michael,” Lin braced herself for bad news.

She felt a wave of relief when Danielle
said, “He’s going to be fine.
 
In
fact he’s right down the hall.
 
Sessions shot him in the arm and shoulder but he managed to get away and
get to the main park road.
 
I found
him there when I came back by.
 
He
couldn’t identify your assailant; however, he had heard your warning.
  
I called the medics for him.
 
Then I called Toby and Neal to help me
search for you.
 
After we sent
Michael to the hospital we began our search.
 
Billy and his men joined us.
 
We missed you the first time we searched
near the earth crack—you must have been unconscious and unable to call
out.
 
We looked, but must have
missed you in the shadows.
 
Luckily,
we came back by there again when we didn’t find you elsewhere.

Lin was relieved to hear that Michael was
OK.
 
The meds were working and she
was able to rest more comfortably as Billy began to tell her the rest of the
story.
 

While Raymond Tso was indeed selling
stolen art and artifacts, his was a small- scale operation; although, he was
seeking to enlarge his business using Lee Chou as his outlet.
 
The Santa Fe police had picked up Chou
for questioning with possible serious charges pending.
 
Meanwhile, Tso was being held by the tribal
police on multiple charges—but not murder.
 

Lin had been correct when she identified
Sessions.
 
He was not only her
attacker, Billy felt sure he was also guilty of murder.
 
Sessions was denying this; however, a
rifle and a hunting knife had been found when the sheriff’s men searched his
gallery storeroom, after obtaining a warrant.

“We are still awaiting ballistic and lab
results on these weapons,” Billy reported, “I feel certain they will be
identified as the murder weapons.
 
Meanwhile, we have booked Sessions on attempted murder of you and
Michael.”

Billy speculated further, “It may well be
that Sessions didn’t actually kill Henry Piestewa.
 
It’s unusual for a killer to use two
different methods, after all.
 
My
guess is that we may find that the knife belonged to Darren and he used that to
kill Henry—then Sessions shot him, at some point.
 
Sessions probably found the knife and
hid it, along with his weapon.
 
It’s
a crazy scenario but, sooner or later, we’ll have the facts and get it straight.”

Continuing his train of thought, Billy
went on, “ We think that Darren was searching for the pottery.
 
Henry might have known something about
where it was located.
 
That may have
been the link to Cullen’s earlier death—he might have told Henry where he
hid the pots he found.
 
Darren may
have realized that possibility and gone after Henry.”

Lin smiled at this possible link to
Cullen’s death—maybe Darren was responsible for that also.
 
After all, he was supposedly meeting
Cullen to get the pots and he disappeared shortly after that time.

“We found blood evidence earlier that
indicated Henry was killed atop that rise, where the old ruins were located,
and was dragged down to the place he was found. Darren was shot there, probably
by Sessions using the rifle we found—the same one he used on your head.”
Billy said.
 

“One of Tso’s men has admitted following
Darren but says he never found him; claims he saw Henry’s body though.
 
Apparently, he encountered one of Chou’s
men from New Mexico who was also following Steele.
 
Tso’s man says they both left the scene
when they saw the body—they thought it was Darren.
 
Darren and Henry were dressed similarly
in jeans, western shirts, and boots—and the men following Darren were
apparently unaware that Henry had even come to the park. Darren evidently hid
when he heard them coming.
 
Sessions
must have arrived after they left—and after Darren had emerged from his
hiding place—that’s when Sessions forced Darren to show him where he
thought the pottery was hidden and then shot him.
 
The pottery has not yet been uncovered
but we feel fairly certain it’s there—where Michael was searching.
 
Sessions most likely came to that spot
to search also—that’s when he ran into you and Michael.”

 
“At least that’s my version of the story,”
Billy said. “I believe, when all the relevant facts are in, they will support
it.”

Danielle continued the tale , “ We can’t
be certain how Henry got involved in all of this.
 
Probably, he had some information about
the pottery—perhaps from Cullen, as Billy said earlier.
 
He was a good man and there is no
evidence he had ever been involved in any wrongdoing.
 
I guess he simply became a victim of
this whole situation.”

Danielle turned to Neal. “Thanks to Dr.
Smith we now know all about the pottery that Cullen found and planned to sell,”
she looked at Lin, “We now have the information which connects Cullen’s death,
perhaps by Darren’s hand, to these other murders.”

 
Lin turned to look at Neal but his head
was lowered.
 
She was certain he
found this part of the story painful.

Billy picked up the tale at this point, “
We are most grateful to Neal,” he placed his hand on Neal’s shoulder, “thanks
to his help we now can piece together most of the story and, not only can we
charge John Sessions with murder, but also with the theft of valuable art and
artifacts.
 
Hopefully, some of these
can be recovered.”

“ Although he denies killing anyone, John
did confess that he was focused on finding the pottery that Cullen had promised
to deliver last year,” Billy turned to Sue with a knowing grin, “apparently he
had a wealthy customer waiting in the wings!”

Sessions claims Darren and Tso must be
responsible for the murders, that the weapons were planted to make him look
guilty, but I think the crime lab tests will prove otherwise and the security
system at Sessions’ gallery is such that it would be difficult for anyone to
enter the warehouse undetected—it is wired to the police department and
has video surveillance as well.
 
If
anyone had tried to circumvent this system the police would have been alerted.”

“John also said that he thinks Darren may
have killed Cullen, hoping to take the pottery and sell it himself—cutting
the gallery and Smith out of the deal altogether,” Billy added, “Sessions had
returned to the scene last Saturday—the first day the area was reopened—to
find the pots.
 
He discovered that
you and Michael were there first.
 
If you hadn’t been there, he would’ve
probably gotten away with the theft, as well as the murder—we already
thought we had Tso for that!
 
He
left you to die.
 
He probably tried
to pursue Michael—luckily he didn’t succeed.

Lin shook her head in dismay—that
caused the painful throbbing that the meds had dulled to return.
 
She stopped immediately but asked, “
What about the first attack—the man with the beard?”

“When, I got your message, I was worried,”
Billy responded. “I had assumed that your attacker was one of Tso’s men but I
realized it was unlikely.
 
Most
Native American men don’t have heavy facial hair! But I’m afraid, I didn’t
figure out who carried out that attack in time to prevent what happened to you
and Michael.”