The Graves of Plague Canyon (The Downwinders Book 3) (14 page)

No, there are no explosives here,
Lyman replied.
We keep them stored
in a variety of places.

Deem looked back up at him, and saw the most tender
expression she’d ever seen — it rivaled her father when he’d been the most
sensitive to her. It made tears start to form in her eyes and made it hard for
her to ask the next question.

How could you?
she asked.
When there was a chance his journals were
there?

They weren’t there,
Lyman said.

Carma thought they might be,
Deem said.

I told her they weren’t,
Lyman said.
Carma can be headstrong in her
opinions, just like another beautiful woman I know.

Deem glanced up at him again, and his sixteen-year-old
features threw her. She knew he had the experiences of a much older man,
experiences she probably would shudder to learn about. Even the ones she knew
of were horrific. But his young face, so calm and unruffled by Deem’s emotion,
derailed her anger.

How can you be sure?
she asked, almost pleadingly. She wanted to believe him, but
needed more.

I sent someone in to check for them before we blew it up,
Lyman said.
They reported to me
that there were no documents there of any kind.

You sent someone? Why not me?

You’re way too high on their radar right now, Deem,
Lyman said patiently.
It would
have tipped off our whole operation. I had to send in someone they weren’t
tracking. But I want you to know I made sure your father’s journals weren’t
there.

Deem sighed. Lyman’s explanation made sense.

Carma wasn’t supposed to tell you,
Lyman said.
She swore to me that
she wouldn’t.

I figured it out on my own,
Deem said.

Beautiful and smart,
Lyman replied.
You scanning documents and off looking for
callum was a perfect diversion for the council. But they were getting close to
figuring things out. We had to act quickly.

This was revenge? For Claude?
She asked.
It seems so extreme.

Lyman rose from his chair and began to pace behind it.
Not
just Claude. Several years ago, things were quieter. Ever since your father
passed, though, things have become worse. You know those bodies you found in
Left Hand?

Yes,
she replied.

That still goes on, to this day,
Lyman said.
The gifted Mormons
hunt down the gifted apostates, just like the 1800s. I’ve been fighting against
them for a hundred and fifty years. Every now and again someone like your
father rises in their ranks, and things calm down; they bring a halt to the
bloodshed for a while, a detente. But your father left us too early, Deem. If
he’d not died of cancer, we might have had another twenty years of relative
peace. His replacement — well, you know him. He’s a hard-liner, and he’s been
stirring things up. In addition to Claude, two bodies buried in the desert,
their throats slashed from ear to ear. A man in Rockville shot in the head,
made to look like a suicide. Just over the hill from here, in Silver Reef, they
disemboweled a man and fed his insides to a pig while he was still alive. All
gifteds.

Deem closed her eyes and shuddered.

And of course, you know what they did to me, all those years
ago,
he said.

Deem nodded. She remembered Carma’s story about Lyman’s
brutal castration.

So I don’t harbor any pity for them, Deem, and you shouldn’t
either. None whatsoever. They’ll do the same to you, if they can arrange it.

I made a deal with Dayton,
she replied.
He forgave me, he stopped the
excommunication. He thinks I’m on the straight and narrow.

You shouldn’t assume he’s that gullible,
Lyman replied.
He’ll say one
thing while doing another. I know they’re tracking you. They know you’re here,
staying in my house for protection.

Do they know about Claude’s papers?
Deem asked.

I don’t think so,
Lyman replied,
but if things were really back to normal,
you’d be back in Mesquite, right? Staying at home, helping your mom with the
groceries and doing the yard work.

You’re right,
Deem said.
Do you know how they track people?

Not with that clumsy device you and your friend used!
Lyman laughed.
They don’t need
electronics. They have people everywhere who’ll keep an eye out for anything
and report back when they see things. You’d never be able to figure out who’s
on their side and who isn’t.

I want to help,
Deem said.
If you’re going to take more action against
Dayton and his council, I want in. I can help.

Lyman smiled at her again, studying her face. He didn’t
speak, just watched her, and Deem felt self-conscious, worried that he was
about to turn her down.

I’ll keep that in mind,
he finally said, and faded until he was gone.

Deem stood, pushing back the chair. She felt like she was in
a daze, the recipient of too much information in too short of a time. She
walked back through the tunnel and to the house, her mind racing, not
remembering the trek. When she emerged through the closet and into the basement
family room, Carma and Winn were standing right there, waiting for her.

“Well?” Winn asked. “What did he say?”

“I guess you’re right, Carma,” Deem said. “My father’s
journals weren’t there. He sent someone in to check, before you blew it up.”

“A minor detail he didn’t share with me,” Carma said,
grabbing Deem by the arm to steady her. “Do you feel alright? You look a little
shaky.”

“I’m OK,” Deem said. “I think so.”

“How about we take you up to bed?” Carma said. “You’ve both
had one hell of a couple of days. A long night’s rest is in order. Come on,
we’ll escort you.”

They led Deem upstairs and got her situated into bed, Carma
shooing Winn out of the room as she helped Deem undress. The coolness of the
sheets felt good against her body, and Deem suddenly realized Carma was right —
it had been an exhausting couple of days, with an uncomfortable sleep the night
before. Her eyes were closed almost before she could finish the thought.

Deem was roused by a knocking at her door.

“Are you decent, dear?” she heard, then Carma burst inside.
Deem looked up at her, trying to focus. Carma looked unusually tall.

“Someone’s here to see you,” Carma said cheerily. “Well, to
see us. Since it’s about Lizzy, I thought you should be involved.”

Deem stared up at Carma. She seemed to be towering over her.
“Are you taller?” she asked, trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes.

“Oh, yes, these!” Carma said, raising a leg and showing Deem
a platform shoe.

“They’re huge!” Deem said, observing the wide six-inch
risers.

“Yes, I feel like I’m on stilts!” Carma said, spinning around
and heading back for the door. “Get cleaned up and come down. She’s waiting.”

Deem watched as Carma passed under the threshold without
ducking, clearing it by less than an inch.

She swung her feet to the floor and rubbed her face, trying
to wake up. She pulled on a pair of jeans and stumbled to the bathroom across
the hall, splashing water on her face and checking her hair. Then she walked
back to her bedroom, searched for a clean shirt, and hurried downstairs. The
clock in the hallway read nine-thirty.

Carma called to her from the living room, a room rarely used
in Carma’s house. Deem turned and walked toward her voice. Carma was standing
in the hallway, and Deem marveled again at how tall she appeared.

“Deem, come in, please meet Samaria Moon, from Blanding,” she
motioned to the living room entrance, where a very large Samoan woman was
standing. She had a large flower in her hair, and sideburns.

“Hi,” Deem mustered, extending her hand and shielding her
eyes from the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Samaria shook her
hand, and Deem couldn’t help thinking that it felt manly.

“Please forgive her; she’s just woken up,” Carma said. “Late
night.”

They all took seats in the living room. “So Samaria here was
just telling me she has some news about Lizzy,” Carma said. “Would you mind
repeating what you told me to Deem, and we’ll all get caught up?”

“I’m the one who poisoned Lizzy,” Samaria said without
blinking an eye. Her voice was low, but not so low that it couldn’t be a
woman’s. “And I’m a little upset that you’ve gone and rescued her. It took me
weeks to plan it all out.”

Deem turned to Carma and raised her hands in confusion.
“Huh?” she asked Carma.

“Samaria’s been telling me we made a mistake in curing Lizzy
with the callum,” Carma said. “Turns out Lizzy was an assassin. Coffee?”

Deem shook her head, unsure she wasn’t dreaming.

“I’d love some,” Samaria said. Carma walked out of the living
room and disappeared.

“Listen baby, are you the one who scored the callum?” Samaria
asked.

“Yes,” Deem replied. “I did it because Lizzy is Carma’s
niece. She asked me to help.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Callum’s the only cure for what I did to her, and I haven’t
seen any of it around here in years. So I’d like to know, baby.”

“Would you please stop calling me baby?”

“It’s a term of affection,” Samaria replied, “at least for
the moment. Trust me, you’d rather I call you that than some of the other names
I could call you if we don’t wind up getting along like I’m hoping we do. Now,
about the callum.”

“Well, I’d like to tell you, but I can’t. It would compromise
someone I made a promise to. Can we back up for a moment? Why were you
poisoning Lizzy? She’s an assassin? Did I hear that right?”

“Lizzy Tait has been taking assassin contracts from the Page
council for the past two years,” Samaria said, “and I’ve been following her for
a year, at Brother Jorgensen’s request. I believe Lyman and Carma know Brother
Jorgensen, from Moab.”

“I do know Brother Jorgensen,” Carma said as she returned to
the room with a pot of coffee in hand. She poured a cup for Samaria and handed
it to her, then turned to Deem.

“No, thanks,” Deem said.

Carma poured a small amount into a mug and handed it to Deem
anyway. “To smell,” she said, smiling, then turned to Samaria. “Deem loves the
smell of coffee, but hasn’t yet acquired the taste.”

“It’s because she’s so young,” Samaria said. “What are you,
baby, sixteen?”

“Nearly twenty-one,” Deem replied.

“You said you’ve been tracking Lizzy for a year now?” Carma asked,
pouring her own mug and sitting next to Samaria. “What have you discovered?”

“I was telling Deem that Lizzy’s been taking contracts from
the Page council. And a few from St. George, too. They know her better in Page,
but St. George likes using her because she’s so quiet and lethal.”

“You know this for a fact?” Carma asked. “You saw her do it?”

“I did,” Samaria said. “A husband and wife, out in the desert
off old Highway 91. She slit their throats while they were bound from behind
and dumped their bodies in a grave she dug herself. Saw the whole thing through
binoculars. Got coordinates if you want them.”

David’s parents?
Deem wondered. “Yes, I’d like the coordinates. Were they
both gifted?”

“All the contracts are on gifteds, baby,” Samaria said, “and the
number’s been increasing lately. Brother Jorgensen suspected Lizzy from the
beginning, but he asked me to get proof. I followed her for a good long time,
and I’m pretty sure she killed a number of people while I was tracking her, but
I didn’t catch her in the act. Once I saw her kill those two in the desert, I
told Brother Jorgensen about it, and he asked me to use her up. I spent the
last three weeks planning out how to get to her, how to infect her so no one
would know who did it. I didn’t want any blowback on Brother Jorgensen. Then
you come along and screw it all up! Now she’s back in the game.”

“The couple she killed,” Deem asked. “Were they from Ivins?”

“Yes, they were,” Samaria replied.

“Shit,” Deem said, looking down.

“What?” Carma asked. “Did you know them?”

“I know their son,” Deem said. “Who’s now an orphan.”

“We also think she killed Claude Peterson.”

Deem slowly raised her head to stare Samaria in the face.
“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure, baby,” Samaria said. “Why do you think I was
willing to poison her?”

Deem turned to Carma. “We made a big mistake.”

“I agree,” Carma said. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have asked you
to help save her if I had known. I have a lot of nieces out there these days,
and I have to admit I don’t keep very good track of them. When Ester called me,
I didn’t think twice.”

“Does Ester know about Lizzy?” Deem asked Samaria.

“She thinks her daughter is well liked by the church
hierarchy,” Samaria replied, “and that’s all she cares about.”

“Fuck,” Deem said, placing her head in her hands and resting
her elbows on her knees. She rubbed at her face, becoming more and more angry
as she thought about David and how frightened he was. Then she remembered
walking into Claude’s home with Winn and Awan, discovering his body with the
killer still there.
Could the killer have been Lizzy?
she wondered,
trying to remember what had happened that night. Awan’s words came back to her,
saying he wasn’t sure if it had been a man or a woman — whoever had done it was
completely covered.
It could have been her,
she thought.

“What do you want us to do?” Deem asked Samaria.

“Since you fucked it up, baby,” she said, taking a sip of
coffee, “you need to make it right.”

▪ ▪ ▪

After Samaria left, Deem and Carma moved to the drawing room
to talk. Eventually Winn woke up and joined them. Deem filled him in on
Samaria’s visit.

“Whoa,” Winn said. “We just helped the enemy?”

“Apparently so,” Deem replied.

“And now she wants us to take care of Lizzy?” Winn asked.

“Before we make another mistake,” Carma said, “I’m going to
place a call to Brother Jorgensen and have a little talk. I’ve never heard of
this Samaria before, and I’d like some confirmation. It’d be terrible if you
two hunt down my niece’s daughter and it turns out she’s innocent.”

“We’ll need a plan,” Winn said.

“Don’t plan anything until I check with Moab and a few
others,” Carma said. “I’m going to do my homework this time, like I should have
last time. If I hadn’t been so busy planning the bombing with Lyman, this might
not have happened at all.”

Carma left the room to make her calls, and Winn turned to
Deem.

“What’s on your agenda for today?” he asked.

“I made an appointment to talk with David at noon,” Deem
said. “He deserves to know what I’ve found out. The poor kid is all alone in
that house out in Ivins. I suspect he’s scared out of his mind.”

“That’s gonna be a hard conversation,” Winn said. “Would you
like some moral support?”

“I would,” Deem said. “How do you tell a kid his parents are
dead?”

“I don’t know,” Winn said. “Never had to do it.”

“After that, I have a date with Warren.”

“Another date?” Winn asked.

“A late lunch, after he gets off work.”

“Would you like me to come along on that one too?” Winn
asked, wickedly turning up a crooked smile.

“No,” she said. “Definitely not.”

“When do we plan out an approach to Lizzy?” Winn asked.

“As soon as Carma says she’s confirmed things,” Deem replied.
“I don’t want to waste my time again.”

“At least you found those books at Left Hand,” Winn said.
“That’s something. You’re a hundred thousand richer.”

“If I sell it,” Deem replied. “I haven’t decided if I’m going
to do that.”

“You’re going to keep a Book of Mormon?” Winn asked. “Come
on.”

“It’s an original,” Deem said. “Joseph Smith touched it.”

“Sacred artifact?” Winn sneered. “That’s stupid. I thought
you were over Mormonism anyway. It’s just a piece of fiction.”

“It’s a really rare piece of history,” Deem said. “And it’s
my history, like it or not. I’ll sell it if I need to. For now, I don’t really
need to.”

“And the journal?” Winn asked. “Lorenzo what’s-his-name?”

“That I’m keeping for sure,” Deem said. “I may not have my
father’s journals, but now I’ve got Lorenzo’s, and Claude’s files. I intend to
use them.”

▪ ▪ ▪

Deem and Winn picked up some burgers and fries from Frostop
and went to a park that was kitty-corner from the university to wait for David.
They brought separate cars so Winn could return to Moapa, while Deem intended
to meet Warren later at the Bear Paw.

They walked to a park bench, Winn limping all the way. Once
they were situated, Winn reached into the sack and retrieved a burger, which he
began to eat.

“A little rude, don’t you think?” Deem said.

“I’m starving, and they’re warm,” Winn said. “In ten minutes,
they won’t be. He won’t care. Do you want one?”

“No,” Deem said, sipping on a diet Coke. “I’m too nervous
about how he’s going to react. There he is — crossing the street.”

David was approaching from the university. Once he made it
across the street, he joined them at the table, sitting next to Winn and facing
Deem.

“David, this is Winthrop James, a friend of mine,” Deem said.
“Winn, David.” The two shook hands.

“Burger?” Deem offered.

“Sure,” he said. Winn brought the bag over and opened it for
him. David reached in and pulled one out.

“Fries?” Deem said.

“OK,” David replied, and Winn pulled out a tray of fries for
him.

“Winn lives in Moapa,” Deem said.

“Oh,” David said. “Been there when we went to Lake Mead.”

“David here is on the football team at the college,” Deem
said to Winn. “He was All-State in high school.”

“What position?” Winn asked.

“Quarterback,” David replied.

“Oh, you were from Dixie, right?” Winn said. “I remember
seeing a couple of your games.”

“One of the games we won, I hope,” David replied.

“As I recall, you won most,” Winn said. “Getting any time on
the field as a freshman?”

“A little,” David replied. “Since DSU went four year it’s a
little harder, but all you can do is stick it out and earn some cred, wait for
a couple of years.”

“True,” Winn replied.

“So what’s up?” David asked. “I’ve only got twenty minutes
before my next class.”

Deem looked down at the table and sighed.

“What?” David asked.

“I just found out something,” Deem said. “I think I know what
happened to your parents.”