Sierra Falls

“Just…” His brow was furrowed hard. “Who would want to hurt you?”



“I don’t know.” She stood abruptly and put a hand to her belly. It churned to think how someone was out there right now, waiting to do her harm.



“Are you sick?” he asked, sounding focused.



“No, I just…” She froze, watching his face. He had such a strange look on his face—at first, she’d thought it was just his shock, but saw now how he was breathing through his mouth. “Are you sick?”



“I feel kinda strange all of a sudden. I thought maybe you felt funny, too.” He raked his hand through his hair, giving his head a shake. “What’d you put in that water bottle?” His laugh sounded only half joking. His skin was peaked, his face drawn. It was unlike him—Damien was usually a powerhouse of fitness. “Oh shit.” He lurched up and stumbled to the railing, leaning over the edge. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”



She bolted over to him, rubbing his back. “Can you make it outside?” Trying for some comic relief, she added, “I don’t know if the bats would like you puking in their territory.”



He laughed weakly. “Gross, Bail. You know I can hold my water better than that.” He tried to give her a smile, but his face grew slack. “I think I need some fresh air,” he said, and the words came out sounding garbled.



When he tried to stand upright, he stumbled into her, and she leaned into the railing for support. He smelled like chocolate.



It set off an alarm in her mind. “Are you allergic to anything? Maybe there was a weird ingredient in the cookies.” She grabbed his arms, trying to shuffle him away from the edge of the shaft. He needed to get fresh air, and she needed to call an ambulance.



“Sshhi—” He blinked his eyes open and shut, really slurring now.



“Can you breathe?” Her mind raced. Damien’s cell would be in his pocket, but she couldn’t grab it while he leaned on her like this. “Look, we need to call an ambulance.”



He shook his head. “Ressep…resss…”



No cell reception. “Got it. Let’s get you outside. Can you walk?”



He nodded, swallowing convulsively. She wondered if he might not get sick after all. The prospect spurred her to action.



“Ready? On three. One, two—” She pressed her back into the railing, trying to heave him off her chest so they might be able to shuffle out side by side.



Damien stumbled backward and fell on his bottom. There was a sharp crack, and Sorrow fell back, too. But all she met was open air.



Time suspended as she fell. But then she landed with a crash, and reality exploded to life. A horrific snap. Her arm. The sound was so hideous, she knew she’d never get it out of her head. She cradled it close, breathing through her teeth.



And then the strangest thing happened. Rather than panic, the oddest, calmest clarity overtook her. She assessed her situation. Her whole body reverberated with pain, but nothing else seemed broken. It registered that Damien was shouting down to her.



“I’m okay,” she shouted back. She looked around, praying she didn’t see any of those bats he’d told her about. The floor was wider than she’d have guessed, with metal tracks leading away into the blackness. It was the eeriest thing she’d ever seen. She forced her voice to be steady. “I’m on some sort of a platform.”



“Don’t move,” he said, and despite the slurring, she could hear how his voice had snapped taut with panic.



“The ladder.” Using her good hand, she inched herself forward, reaching for it, but the wood crumbled in her fingers. Tears burned her eyes. “Rotted.”



“Told you…don’t move.” He was speaking slowly, but she was grateful to hear his words were less slurred. “I’ll…get help.”



She yelled up at him, “No! You can’t drive in your condition. I’ll be okay.” She heard him shuffling around up above, and shouted again, “Don’t you dare leave, Damien Simmons!”



“It’s…no good, Sorrow. I’m…been…coward…enough.”



She heard his scuffling footsteps, and then nothing. Just the echo of her breath in a cavern twenty feet underground.



Forty-two



Billy stormed the tavern. He’d gotten a thirdhand message, delivered via police band. Dispatch calling with news from the EMT. An accident.



Just like Keri. All over again.



Not Keri, he assured himself. Sorrow hadn’t been on the scene. But she was in danger all the same. And he had to find her.



The tavern door hit the wall, he’d opened it so hard. Everyone turned to stare.



Bear spun on his stool. “What the hell’s gotten into you? Coming in here like a bat outta—”



He cut the man off. There was no time for bullshit grumbling. “There’s been an accident. Damien, driving under the influence. He’s injured and getting medevacked to Silver City, but he kept asking for me.” Apparently through his slurring, all he did, over and over, was rant how they needed to contact the sheriff. Needed to find Sorrow. Needed to go to the mine. What the hell that all meant, he had no idea.



“All I know is, Sorrow had been with him, but now she’s not. She’s out there somewhere, and I think she’s hurt. He said something about an Irish mine, and I need you to tell me what that means.”



He cursed himself. Could he have done something to stop it? For all he knew, she was lying broken at the bottom of a shaft somewhere.



Worse than Keri. Unthinkable.



He’d taken too long to put the pieces together. At first, he’d thought Damien was to blame for Sorrow’s troubles. But then the kid had innocently spoken two words: green gold.



Then it hit him. Not Damien. Dabney. His father. If Dabney viewed Bear’s property as valuable, for whatever reason, he’d swoop in to buy that land if anything happened to the owner.



Billy had the makings of a motive but he still didn’t have proof, so he’d done some snooping. Damien had been down to the Town Hall, looking through old mining records. Later, thinking it Simmons Timber business, the clerk had innocently mentioned it to Dabney. Hearing there was an old gold mine on that land would’ve been as much of a shock to him as it’d been to Billy.



Mines meant gold. And yellow gold was a hell of a lot more valuable than the green kind. Valuable enough to kill for.



It was Dabney who’d been causing the trouble. Dabney behind the wheel of that Hummer.



The only missing piece had been how. Dabney didn’t have the muscle to do it alone. That was when Billy checked with the El Dorado County parole officer. The fact that the Simmons family gardener had done time for breaking and entering was a big red flag. Surely Dabney did a background check on his employees, especially the household staff. Which meant Dabney knew he had a record—and now the guy had a new set of crimes to add to the list, and they were currently getting processed at the county lockup. The moment Billy tracked down Sorrow, he’d see that Dabney Simmons joined him there.



Edith was frantic. “What do you mean, Sorrow’s hurt?”



“I don’t know.” His voice was hollow in his ears. Would it be just like with Keri? Not being there when she needed him? Losing yet another woman he loved? Because he loved Sorrow, more than he ever thought possible.



He’d come to Sierra Falls thinking to bide his years quietly. He hadn’t expected to live any sort of a life at all. Instead, his feelings were deeper now than when he was married. He was older, his emotions more resonant, because he knew better than before, better than anyone, how it could all be taken in an instant. “I need to find her. Which means I need to find this mine.”



These people could help. They knew Sierra Falls better than he did, and he was panicking them. His eyes swept the room, engaging every person in there. He took a deep breath and started again from the top. “The EMT said Damien was agitated, repeating Sorrow’s name, and other things, too. He was fading in and out, so it was hard to follow, but he kept saying something about a mine. An Irish mine, maybe? Does that make sense to any of you? He must’ve meant Irish Camp Road, I can’t think what else.”



Everyone was quiet. Too quiet. He wanted to scream, to speed out of there without another word and drive till he found her. But instead, he forced his voice to be calm and slow—the most crucial thing right now was for him to play the role of sheriff, not frantic boyfriend. He pinned his eyes on Sorrow’s father. “The mine, Bear. I need to find this mine.”



The man nodded gravely. “I know the place.”



“You do?” Edith asked, dumbfounded.



Helen piped up, “There’s a mine in Sierra Falls?” By the looks on everyone’s faces, she wasn’t the only surprised one.



“If you follow Irish Camp out past 88, there’s an old fire road. I played there when I was a kid. There was a lot of digging and panning back in the day. This particular mine closed back when my granddaddy was a kid.”



Billy shoved his hat back on his head. “Then that’s where I’m going. Edith, Bear, rally the troops. We’ll need everyone’s help tracking her down. Helen, call the hospital. No, call Dr. Mark. Maybe he can get some inside info, see if Damien’s coherent yet. Hell, call everyone. And I mean everyone.”



“Should we call 911?” someone asked.



“I am 911.” He was getting aggravated now—hadn’t he just said to call everyone? “But yeah, get the deputy on his cell, for sure. Scott can help, too. Maybe the Ranger Department knows the mine. Or at least they’ll have some old survey maps lying around.”



Edith hopped from her chair, following him to the door. She was visibly holding herself together, and barely. “Please bring my girl home.”



He spared a moment for Sorrow’s mom, giving her a meaningful look. “I’ll find her.”



Bear was right behind. “We’d be lost without her.” Alarm gave an edge to his voice.



He contemplated the man with a hard look. Fear had stripped away Billy’s filters, and he told him, “That’s something you should try showing her once in a while.”