Something about this wasn’t right.
He heard no voices from inside.
He’d have to kick the door from its jamb in order to enter, which wasn’t a problem except that it would announce his presence loud and clear.
He heard movement on the deck.
And felt a vibration across the wood floor.
MALONE STARED THROUGH THE WINDOWS AS HE ROUNDED the covered porch. Everything inside had the look and feel of a typical mountain retreat, its size and furnishings signaling affluence. Still not a sound from anywhere in the house. Had they seen them coming and retreated to safety?
He didn’t think so.
His hunch had been confirmed by the wood floor inside, where a layer of dust coated the planks. Unmarred. No sign that anyone else had entered and walked about.
This was a dead end.
“Luke,” he said.
The younger agent appeared from around the corner. “I was hoping that was you. Nobody’s here.”
He shook his head in agreement. But Stephanie had specifically said this was where Rowan, Salazar, and Cassiopeia had gone.
“She lied to us.”
They both darted toward the front porch. Stephanie was nowhere to be seen. He leaped down the stairs two at a time and ran for the tree where he’d last seen her.
Gone.
A noise on the trail behind him caught his attention. He whirled and leveled his gun. Luke did the same. Charles Snow appeared, helped with his steps by the two young Danites.
They lowered their weapons.
“What’s happening?” Snow asked as he dislodged his arms from his helpers’ shoulders.
“Stephanie’s gone,” Malone said.
“The house is empty and locked tight,” Luke noted.
“She didn’t tell you? The house is not Falta Nada.”
That information grabbed Malone’s attention.
“It was built later.” Snow pointed to the mountain. “Falta Nada is up there, a cave, you can’t miss it.”
STEPHANIE HUSTLED UP THE ROCKY PATH, CLIMBING THE forested ridge. The air was noticeably cooler. She’d misled Cotton and Luke to provide herself an opportunity to slip away. Snow had told her the details on the flight west last night.
“There is something you need to know about this place,” Snow said. “There will be a dwelling at the location, but it is not Falta Nada. The site is above the house, inside the mountain. The trail is easy to spot. One of the early settlers discovered the place. The story goes that he was cutting timber when he spotted mountain lion tracks. He followed them to a high ledge and found a gash in the rock. A cave opened beyond, which he explored. Fifty years ago we wired that cave with lights and the power remains. It is a place only a few have seen. Once special, now forgotten. The fact that Brigham Young chose it as his vault for both the gold and what Lincoln sent him is no surprise.”
Malone was right. She’d created this mess and it was up to her to fix it. How to accomplish that was still a mystery, but she’d figure it out. Doubtful either Luke or Cotton would find her, since they had no idea of the real locale. True, Charles Snow could tell them. But by the time they retreated to the cars, learned the truth, and returned it would all be over.
Ahead she spotted the cave entrance, framed by a doorway of pine poles iced with green moss. An iron gate at its center hung half open, a destroyed padlock on the ground. She retrieved it and saw the damage. Now she new why three shots had been fired.
She tossed the lock aside and found her gun.
Ahead was a lighted passage.
Time to practice what she preached.
Two steps and she was inside.
MALONE WAS FURIOUS.
He’d pushed Stephanie, and now she was walking into something that she was ill equipped to handle.
“Pappy, nothin’ about this is good,” Luke said as they raced up the trail.
“She’s going to get herself killed.”
“Let’s not let that happen.”
“That’s certainly the plan. Unfortunately, we have no idea what’s up there. Unless you know something I don’t.”
“Not this time. She kept me in the dark.”
He stared up the trail. Everyone had a head start on them.
“It’s just you and me,” he said to Luke.
“I get that. And I’m with you, all the way.”
SIXTY-SIX
CASSIOPEIA WAS IMPRESSED. THE CHAMBER THEY STOOD INSIDE was twenty meters across, that much and more wide, and that tall. Stalactites hung like icicles. Needlelike crystals and smooth and spiraling helictites corkscrewed downward. Draperies of orange calcite stretched down, thin as paper, which allowed light from the incandescent fixtures to shine through to a spectacular effect. Popcorn clumps of white rock dotted the walls. Toward the center was a pool of still green water, its surface as flat and reflective as a mirror. On one edge stood a plinth that displayed an enormous statue of the angel Moroni. Four meters high, sculpted from stone, in the familiar pose of blowing a trumpet, everything sheathed in gold leaf.