4 Buried Secrets Read online

  Morgan scrunched up her face in concentration. She usually got a “feeling” about certain situations and over the past summer, the sisters had learned to trust those feelings. She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Where did you see that ghost of the sheriff?” Fiona asked. “Maybe if we go there we’ll see him and can ask more questions.”

  “In the saloon.” Celeste pointed to one of the few buildings that still had all four walls and a roof. The front of the building had a rectangular portion in the middle that was taller and Celeste could still see remnants of the old saloon sign. Boards lay scattered in front where there was once a wooden porch. A few turned wooden posts that originally held a balcony over the porch still stood, but the balcony was long gone.

  Celeste could picture swinging saloon doors in the wide opening at the front as they walked toward it. Stepping inside, the room looked exactly as she had left it.

  The floorboards creaked and sagged alarmingly as the girls walked further into the large room. Celeste squinted, waiting for her eyes to get used to the dim light.

  “Grandma and Deke were over at the bar.” She pointed toward the end of the room where half of a bar remained.

  “Grandma was at the bar?” Fiona asked.

  “Yep. She had on a saloon girl dress, too.” Celeste felt her lips curl in a smile. Grandma’s ghost was full of entertaining surprises. “And she slugged down some whiskey from a shot glass … or at least I think it was whiskey.”

  Morgan snorted. “Grandma? I can’t picture her doing that.”

  “I think she was bringing the ghost to me,” Celeste said. “She said he was stuck in 1878 and she wasn’t even sure he knew he was a ghost. Maybe she had to dress the part to get him to talk.”

  “Or maybe she just thought it would be fun,” Fiona added.

  Celeste laughed. “Probably. But she’s not here now and neither is Deke.”

  Morgan turned around, looking at the room. “This place is pretty cool though. I’m surprised it’s held up so well.”

  “I wish the second floor was still intact.” Fiona looked up at the large holes in the ceiling where one could see up to the trussed roof. Celeste followed her gaze, angling her head to the right so she could see the old wallpaper hanging from one of the few walls left standing.

  “I wonder what was up there … was this a brothel too?” Morgan asked.

  Celeste shrugged. “Weren’t they all?”

  Fiona crossed to the opposite corner where the top of a stairway hung from the second floor. The bottom half of the stairs had fallen down and lay in pieces on the floor, but the top six steps had remained attached to the wall and hung there as if suspended in air.

  Fiona picked up an ornately carved mahogany post. “These stairs must have been really nice back in the day.”

  Celeste was about to answer when a swirly mist on the top stair caught her attention.

  Was that a ghost?

  She grabbed Morgan’s arm. “I think I see a ghost.” Celeste stared at the stairs as the misty figure descended. The ghost wasn’t taking shape very well and Celeste could only see a slight image, but it appeared to be a woman with a long swirly dress.

  Fiona and Morgan couldn’t see the ghost, but they followed Celeste’s eyes to the stairs.

  “Hello?” Celeste ventured.

  The ghost hesitated, turned in Celeste’s direction for a second, and then continued toward the saloon door.

  “That was a different ghost … a woman,” Celeste whispered. “I don’t think she heard me—she went out to the street.”

  “Well, let’s follow her,” Fiona said and led the way out the door. Once outside, Celeste looked up and down the street, squinting against the harsh glare of the sun.

  “She’s at the end, walking toward the hills.” Celeste took off after the ghost with Morgan and Fiona following.

  “Hello … excuse me.” Celeste tried to contact the ghost again but she was ignored. The ghost glided up a small hill and disappeared into an area sectioned off by a low, black iron fence … a graveyard.

  The graveyard was small with only twenty or thirty graves. Some had plain markers and some had fancy headstones. Celeste shivered as she glanced at one of the stones—a child’s grave with an angel carved in the flat piece of slate that bore the child’s name and age. She watched as the ghost floated slowly past the graves toward the back of the cemetery.

  The area in back was flat with no tombstones. The sand was dotted with patches of grass and scrub. The ghost stopped at the very back and knelt down. Celeste could see the corner of some sort of plaque buried in the sand.

  Was it a grave?

  Celeste’s heart tugged as she approached. The ghost was weeping soundlessly.

  “Can I help you?” Celeste asked.

  The ghost turned her face slowly toward Celeste. She was starting to take form now and Celeste could see she was a young woman in her twenties. Pretty. Long curls piled up on top of her head. She opened her mouth and one word came out.

  “Vindication.”

  Icy fingers ran up Celeste’s spine just before a white blur streaked between her legs and landed right on top of the grave.

  “Belladonna!” Morgan gasped.

  The cat landed in front of the ghost who shrank back and began to fade away.

  “Wait … vindication for what?” Celeste pleaded … but the ghost had vanished.

  Belladonna blinked at the sisters then turned and starting digging in the sand.

  “Belladonna, stop that!” Morgan said and turned to Celeste and Fiona. “How did she get out here?”

  Celeste stared at the cat. How did she get out here and how did she even know where they were? “Beats me. She seems to have a way of finding us.”

  Morgan shivered and rubbed her hands on her bare arms. “That’s too strange. I hope we can get her in the car easily because I don’t think I want to hang around here.”

  “Are you getting a vibe?” Celeste asked.

  “Yeah. I feel … unsettled. Like something bad happened here … or is going to happen.” Morgan shrugged. “I can’t tell which.”

  “Well, whatever it is, it might have something to do with love.” Fiona held out her wrist and Celeste raised her eyebrows at the pink stone glowing brightly on her sister’s bracelet.

  “That’s rose quartz,” Fiona said. “The gemstone of love.”

  Celeste frowned at the spot where the ghost had been. “Well, maybe our ghost was in love.”

  “Maybe.” Morgan bent down to scoop up Belladonna.

  “But what does that have to do with finding this cache of gold?” Fiona asked as they started back toward the car.

  Celeste pressed her lips together. “I guess that’s what we need to find out.”

  Chapter Three

  Jolene Blackmoore closed the laptop, a satisfied smile lighting her face as she congratulated herself on digging up a good lead on Shorty Hanson … too bad no one was around to share it with.

  She frowned into the silence of the empty suite. Her sisters were back in Dead Water, Luke was in town and Jake was trying to find out whatever he could about the treasure, which meant all the cars were gone. The clock said it was past noon and luckily there was a nice little bar connected to the hotel. And, since bartenders usually knew everything, she could do a little extra detective work of her own.

  She pulled worn, brown leather cowboy boots over her jeans and threw on an orange t-shirt then headed down the stairs and out the door. The entrance to the bar was on the other side of the hotel and she took a deep breath of fresh air as her boots scuffed across the dirt and gravel parking lot. The hotel room was air-conditioned but she found it a bit stuffy and kind of chilly. The desert sun felt good streaming down on her so she took her time walking to the bar.

  Pulling the door to the bar open, she stood just inside the dimly lit room. The room was small, cozy almost. Tables and chairs sat against the walls, all of them empty except for one in the back where a thirty-someth
ing couple was engaged in intense conversation. In front of her, a long polished wooden bar beckoned. A white haired man sat on a stool at one end. Jolene slid into a seat three stools down from him.

  The bartender looked to be in his late twenties. Tanned, tall and handsome, he flashed a lopsided smile at Jolene and she felt a prickle of interest.

  “Hi, I’m Kyle, What can I get‘cha?”

  “What do you have on tap?” Jolene tilted her chin toward the metal handle of the beer tap dispenser feeling slightly disappointed he hadn’t asked for id. Having just turned twenty-one, it was still fun for her to produce her license to prove it.

  “We only have one beer here on tap … Pabst Blue Ribbon.”

  Jolene made a face. “Are you kidding? People really drink that?”

  The deep timbre of Kyle’s laugh coaxed her scowl into a smile.

  “I’m just kidding,” he said. “You look like a Coors drinker, am I right?”

  “Well actually I like Sam Adams but if you don’t have that, Coors will do.”

  He pulled a glass beer mug from under the counter and turned to fill it. “Sam Adams?” he asked over his shoulder. “Are you from New England?”

  Jolene nodded as he slid the mug across the bar to her. The foam topped golden liquid invited Jolene to take a sip, which she swirled around in her mouth for a few seconds enjoying the subtle bite of the malty flavor.

  “You here on vacation?” Kyle polished a wine glass with a white bar towel.

  Jolene shrugged. “You might say that.” She looked up and saw him watching her with interest. Interest in her? … Or in what she was doing here?

  “Not much around here for vacationers.”

  “We’re checking out Dead Water.” Jolene watched two beads of condensation run down the beer glass and onto the bar before taking another swig.

  “Dead Water? What could you possibly want there?” Kyle put down the glass he’d been working on and picked up another.

  Jolene chewed on her bottom lip while she studied his energy, an unusual talent she’d discovered she had over the past year. She didn’t see any dark colors in his aura—it was bright yellow, which meant he probably didn’t have any hidden motives for asking about why she was there … and also that he wasn’t the type of guy for long term commitments.

  She tilted her head, her long chocolate curls brushing against her arm. “My sisters and I are history buffs. We’re here looking into the town history. Do you know anything about it?”

  “I know it’s been abandoned for a long time. We used to hang there sometimes when I was a kid.”

  Jolene sipped her beer and admired his biceps as he worked the cloth around the glass. She noticed the head of a dragon peeking out from under the sleeve of his gray t-shirt and wondered what the rest of the tattoo looked like.

  “Anyway, it was a mining town and I think there was some kind of scandal back there a long time ago. But no one’s lived there in decades,” he said.

  “The stage coach robberies,” Jolene prompted.

  “Yeah, something like that.” Kyle slid the glass into the rack on top of the bar then placed his hands on the bar top and leaned toward her. His light gray eyes held hers and she felt a tingle zing up her spine.

  “Don’t let Sheriff Kane catch you out there though.”

  “Why?” she asked. “It’s private land and we have permission from the owners.”

  Kyle pushed back from the bar and slapped the towel over his shoulder. “He always seemed pretty nasty about finding us out there … but then again, we were just kids.”

  Jolene sipped more beer and watched Kyle pour whiskey into a shot glass and pop the top off a bottle of Bud he’d grabbed from the cooler. She thought about what Kyle had said. Was he trying to warn her off? Would they have trouble with this Sheriff Kane? It made sense the Sheriff wouldn’t want kids trespassing—they tended to vandalize stuff. But Jolene and her sisters weren’t kids and Luke had permission, so they shouldn’t have a problem with this Sheriff.

  “Anyway, Walter here knows a lot about Dead Water if you need a history lesson.” Kyle tilted his head toward the man three seats down from Jolene, then walked down and placed the shot and beer in front of him.

  “Hey Walt, this young lady here is looking into the history of Dead Water.”

  Walt slid his eyes over to Jolene who favored him with her best smile.

  “Hi.” She leaned over the two bar stools and stuck her hand out toward the old man.

  “Hi there.” His handshake was firm, his blue eyes kind. Judging by the lines on his face, he must have been nearing ninety, but Jolene couldn’t be sure—the dessert air could be harsh on skin.

  “What do you want to know?” Walt asked as Jolene slid into the seat next to him.

  “I was just wondering about the history … the mining and the stage coach robberies.”

  Walt lifted his left brow a fraction of an inch. “Well, that stuff’s all in the history books, but what you can’t find in there is the scandal.”

  “The scandal?” Jolene’s brows shot up.

  “Yep. My grandma told me the story when I was a little boy. She was just a girl back then, and maybe she romanticized it a bit, but she remembers a big scandal with the town sheriff and some woman … something about a love triangle.” His blue eyes twinkled at her.

  Jolene smiled at him over the rim of her beer mug. “Sounds juicy. Did that have something to do with the robberies?”

  Walt squeezed his eyes shut. “The robberies … yes, I do remember my grandma talking about those too. It was right around the same time. The stagecoach used to pass near town … carried all the gold and silver the miners had put in the bank, you know.”

  Jolene nodded.

  “Anyway, I remember her saying how they caught the guy. Of course, he claimed he was innocent but the sheriff didn’t believe him. Shot him right in the middle of the street. Scared her, she said.” Walt shook his head. “Can you imagine the Sheriff shooting a man down in front of a young girl like that?”

  Jolene shook her head. “That’s awful. Did they ever find the gold he stole?”

  “Nope. That was the big talk back then. Grandma said everyone went crazy trying to find it.”

  “I heard he lived right outside of town,” Jolene said.

  Walt scrunched up his face. “You know, I do think Grandma mentioned that. They dug all around there trying to find the treasure.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yep. The Sheriff tried to stop them from digging, but then he died not too long after that. My grandma said it was sad because he’d just been married … or at least I think that’s what she said.” Walt chuckled and held his beer mug up. “Too much beer, and too many years does mess with a man’s memory.”

  Jolene smiled while studying his aura. Turquoise. He was healthy as a horse and sharp in memory.

  “Something tells me you don’t have any problems with your memory,” Jolene said. She gulped down the rest of her beer then pulled a wad of bills out of her pocket and slapped a twenty and some ones on the bar.

  “This should take care of my beer and another round for my friend here.” She pointed to Walt, and then glanced over at Kyle as she slid down from the stool and started toward the door.

  “Thanks,” he called after her. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Jolene,” she said over her shoulder as she reached for the door handle.

  “Hope to see you around, Jolene,” Kyle said and she shot him a smile as she tugged the door open and disappeared out into the hot sun.

  He sure was cute, she thought, and then immediately dismissed the impulsive ideas that were creeping into her mind. There was a fat chance of anything happening with her over protective sisters and their boyfriends hanging around her day and night.

  ***

  Jolene was halfway back to the hotel when the crunch of tires on gravel behind her caught her attention. Recognizing the big white SUV, she waved at her sisters, her eyes widening as
they pulled to a stop and Morgan jumped out with Belladonna in her arms.

  “You brought Belladonna with you?” She walked over to pet the cat who was wriggling to escape Morgan’s captive embrace.

  “No,” Fiona answered. “She just kind of showed up.”

  “What? How is that possible?” Jolene asked. “Dead Water is twenty miles from here.”

  “You tell me,” Morgan said.

  “Meow!” Belladonna twisted and squirmed. Wriggling free of Morgan's arms, she dropped to the ground looked up at the girls, and started cleaning herself.

  “I don’t know about her.” Jolene pursed her lips at the cat, then turned her attention from the cat to her sisters. “Did you guys find any clues?”

  Morgan, Fiona and Celeste exchanged a glance.

  “We found out something … I’m just not sure it has anything to do with the treasure,” Celeste said. “What about you?”

  “I might have found where Shorty lived and got a little history lesson from a new friend.” Jolene tilted her head toward the bar.

  “You were in the bar all this time?” Morgan asked.

  “Not all this time. I finished my research and went over for a beer.” Jolene smiled. “Turns out it was a good move because I met someone whose grandmother lived in Dead Water back in the 1800s.”

  “Oh?” Morgan arched a finely plucked brow. “He must be quite old.”

  “Yes, but sharp as a tack.” Jolene brushed a bead of sweat from her forehead. The desert sun was much stronger than back home in Maine. “Let’s go inside and we can discuss what we found.”

  The sister’s murmured assent and Belladonna led them toward the door, then up the stairs to their suite.

  “Guess she knows where our temporary home is,” Fiona said.

  “Yeah, well I just hope she can find it if she gets lost.” Celeste’s face was pinched with concern. “We need to check the suite and see how she got out. I don’t want her wandering all around Nevada alone.”

  Fiona unlocked the door and Belladonna streaked in making a beeline for her food dish where she sat blinking impatiently at the sisters.