The Night Is Watching

“Sure,” Alice said, “and if not, we have more in the basement. In storage.”



“Except I’m not going down there,” Valerie insisted.



“Something here should work,” Henri said.



“Might as well try my stuff first,” Alice said. “Because it’s true. We didn’t take Jane’s height into consideration.”



They moved into the next room. As Jane went through the costumes, Alice perched on her dressing-table chair and Valerie leaned against a prop box. Henri seemed interested in her possible choice of costume.



“The blue! That’s a copy of Sage’s costume from The Heiress. That would be great!” he said.



While Jane pulled out the costume and oohed and ahhed over it, Sloan walked to the back of the room.



“Hey, Henri,” he called, kneeling down. “What’s this?”



“Huh?” Henri joined him. “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “It’s a big brass pull on the floorboard, I guess.”



“It’s a trapdoor. Where does it lead?”



“Well, it could only lead to the basement—or to more floorboards,” Alice said.



“Do not open it!” Valerie shrieked. “Not if it leads to the basement.”



“It might’ve been a cubby where the old actors and actresses stuffed their valuables,” Alice suggested.



“Or it might’ve been for extra costume pieces, accessories, stuff like that,” Jane murmured.



“Let’s see,” Sloan said.



Jane had never thought of herself as a weakling, so she was glad to see that, at first, it seemed to be sealed tight. But Sloan levered himself against it and pulled harder—and the trapdoor opened.



It didn’t lead to the basement. It led to a dark compartment. Something seemed to glimmer.



Sloan pulled out a flashlight and pointed it down into the hole that was about two feet deep.



Valerie let out a scream. “Didn’t I tell you not to open anything that might lead to the basement!”



“That—that’s not the basement,” Alice said.



“Those are bones!” Valerie wailed. “I’m getting out of here. No, no, I’m not. I’m not going anywhere alone. Oh! Lord, what’s happening in Lily?”



Sloan looked at her. “It’s all right, Valerie. They’ve been here for a very long time. You can see that the fabric—the dress—is nearly decayed. It looks as if a body was left here and it decayed and...it must have smelled like hell. I wonder why someone didn’t find it back then.”



“Oh, how horrible,” Valerie said.



Henri was down on his knees, horrified as he stared into the hole.



“Someone’s found it recently,” he said, a catch in his throat.



“How do you know?” Alice asked.



“Because this body is lacking something it should have,” Henri said.



“What?” Valerie demanded.



“Her head,” Jane said softly.



* * *



It did seem most likely that someone—playing a trick on the cast at the theater—had found the space beneath the floor, taken out the skull and set it on a wig stand. Despite the fact that he knew the bones had to be as old as the mummified remains discovered in the desert, Sloan called in the county medical examiner to retrieve them.



Alice moved into Valerie’s dressing room for the time being. She’d switch with either Brian or Cy after Silverfest had come and gone.



Once the hoopla over the bones had ended, the afternoon was wearing on and Henri, though pensive, was also eager to get his cast out onto the street to start entertaining the locals.



At three o’clock, Sloan and Jane were finally able to leave the Gilded Lily. “Want to go exploring?” he asked her.



“Sure. Where? But should I be working on the skull? I just worry that I’m not accomplishing what you wanted out here.”



“Doesn’t matter. I know the skull belonged to Sage. And now I’m virtually certain we have the rest of her. As soon as that’s confirmed, I’ll plan a proper burial for her. We have our own version of Boot Hill here—except ours is called Dead Horse Hill. I would like to see that she’s buried and I think that’s an appropriate place.”



“I’ll still finish,” Jane told him. “What are we exploring?”



“An old silver mine.”



“I thought the entrances were all sealed.”



“So did I. But I went by the mine entrance off the trail today and it has a few loose boulders. I hadn’t brought a flashlight or anything with me, and I didn’t want to go into an old mine shaft with no one knowing what I was up to. Of course, I had my phone, but...”



“If we’re both in the mine, who will know where we are?”



“Johnny Bearclaw,” Sloan said. “I trust him with my life.”



“And you don’t trust your own officers?”



“I do. But I’m not sure anymore that I want everyone finding out what I suspect until I’ve had a chance to prove it.”



She shrugged. “Okay, I’m game.” She turned to him; he didn’t dare do more than glance at her. The gold of her eyes could be too hypnotic. “And I’m armed, I’m fully dressed and I’m wearing shoes.”



“As I said before, that was rather a foolish thing you did last night.”



“If I hadn’t followed the ghost when she beckoned, we might not know what she’s wanted us to know all along.”



“It was stupid,” he said decisively. He was being argumentative, but he still had the feeling that something had changed, that a dark cloud remained above them.



“Like going into a long-closed mine shaft?” she said.



“You don’t have to go in. In fact, maybe you should stay outside and wait for me.”



They’d reached his house by then. He’d already called Johnny so the horses were ready. He noticed that Johnny had one of Mike Addison’s mares in the paddock and asked, “What’s Lucy doing here?”



“In case I have to come bail you out,” Johnny told him.



“Hopefully, you’re not going to have to bail me out,” Sloan said.



Johnny offered him a shrug and a wry grimace. “I wouldn’t want to lose Agent Everett out there. You, you’re going to do what you’re going to do.”



“You’ll know where Ms. Everett is,” Sloan agreed. “What did you tell Mike?”



“Nothing. Just that you were taking Kanga and Roo and I might want to ride later,” Johnny explained.



“Thanks.”



“It’s what I do,” Johnny said. He smiled, but there was a seriousness in his expression. Sloan wondered about the other night when the cat had hissed as if something was near. He hadn’t seen anything on the property, but they did have coyotes in the area. And yet he wondered if someone had been through his place. He’d consider it paranoia—except that a man had been murdered.



He led the way, with Jane behind him, breaking into a canter over the clearer ground and slowing Roo when they reached the rockier area of foothills and outcrops. She followed him wordlessly until they got to the old mine entrance.



He dismounted and she did the same. She walked over, waiting while he moved the loose boulder he’d found earlier. She played the flashlight he’d given her over the black gaping hole he created.



“See anything?” he asked her.



“A hole,” she said.



He crawled through, not wanting to dislodge more than the one boulder. If someone was doing something in the old tunnel or shaft and wasn’t there now, he didn’t want that person knowing the entry had been discovered.



When he was inside, he turned to help Jane, but she was agile and had already come through. They both trained their lights on the old shaft. He checked the sides, where rock was crumbled from the explosion. Shifting his light, he saw that the center of the shaft was clear. Had it been like that when it caved in—or had someone been clearing it?



Jane was behind him as he carefully moved forward. They went about fifteen feet before they had to crawl through another pile of rubble. Past that, they found a second clear stretch. A few feet later, they came across a large room. There, part of the floor had been dug up; pointing his light down, Sloan saw something dazzling. He crouched down and searched for the source.



“What is it?” Jane asked.



“Dust,” he said. “Gold dust.”



“When was this mine closed down?”



“Years ago. The 1920s, I believe.”



“Has the gold been here that long?” she asked.



“I don’t know. Look for signs that someone’s been in here. I can’t find prints, because the stone is so uneven....”



She walked around the perimeter. “I think I’ve found what you’re looking for,” she told him.



“What?” he asked, and shone his light toward her.



It was a plastic water bottle.



“I don’t think they made these in the 1920s,” she said.



He nodded. He wasn’t sure what anyone was doing here—other than maybe conducting some kind of illegal trade. He doubted the person or persons in question had found the cache of gold—although he had no idea why there was gold dust scattered near the entrance.



He pulled a small listening device out of his pocket and looked around for a rock with a little crevice.



“How long will that last?” Jane asked skeptically.



“Well, it’s motion-activated and the battery will last twelve to twenty-four hours when it’s active,” he told her. “Come on. Let’s get out before the wrong person comes along and realizes that we’re in here.”



They crawled back out. When they were once again standing in the late-afternoon sun again, he looked at Jane and laughed.



“That’s rude,” she chastised. “Especially from a man who looks like he’s been mud-wrestling with pygmies.”