Authors: Scott Graham
Canyon Sacrifice (21 page)
“Only the melancholy murmur of the wind ascended from the Grand Cañon of Arizona, that sepulchre of centuries. It seemed the requiem for a vanished world.”
â John Stoddard
John L. Stoddard's Lectures, Vol. 10, 1898
Midnight
Shouts rose in the clearing behind Chuck. The beams of the rangers' high-powered flashlights cut into the stand of trees, lighting the way ahead. Chuck scooped up his pack and sprinted deeper into the woods. The flashlight beams grew dimmer as the rangers, moving slowly through the grove to guard against ambush, fell behind.
Chuck exited the far side of the woods and slid to a stop on a thin strip of pavement at the rear of the dog kennel. Downward facing lights outlined the steel building's exterior. Between the strip of pavement and kennel, a dozen dogs in side-by-side pens lunged against a wire fence, their howls filling the night.
Chuck set off again at a run. He pulled Rachel's night-vision goggles from his pack, settled them over his eyes, and left the pavement where it turned toward the front of the building. Chuck disappeared into the forest that blanketed the broad plateau south of the village. He passed the wide trunks of towering ponderosas, holding to a southerly course. The cries of the dogs grew faint, then died away.
Breathing hard, Chuck slowed to a jog. He was a fugitive, alone and on the run. Every ranger and employee in the park would be on the lookout for him now, as would, by morning, every tourist at the South Rim.
He had to get out of the park and regroup. That meant continuing to the collection of chain motels, fast-food restaurants, and parking lots that comprised the community of Tusayan immediately outside the park's South Entrance. He would work his way there on foot through the night, get his hands on a car, and ditch the area. Then he would call the 505 number. With the necklaces from Cope Butte in his possession, he would be
in position to direct what would happen next. This time, the exchange would take place at a time and place of his choosing, not the kidnapper's, and in a manner that would ensure Carmelita's well-being.
Miguel had to be ready for all this to end. He'd shot and killed Donald by mistake. Now the heat was on him in the village. No question he was loading Carmelita into his car this very minute, getting ready to leave the park. Logic said he would head for a large city, to blend in with the masses. Phoenix was nearest. Albuquerque a close second.
If Chuck kept moving through the night, he would reach Tusayan by daybreak, at which point he would check in with the kidnapper. Assuming Chuck managed to nab a car without wasting too much time, he could be in either Phoenix or Albuquerque by noon. His thoughts ran ahead of him. Where in either city could he safely pull off an exchange with Miguel?
He came to an abrupt halt.
Phoenix? Albuquerque? What was he thinking? No one was going to a big city. Not Chuck, and certainly not Miguel and Carmelita.
Grand Canyon Village would be in an uproar after Donald's shooting. No one would be able to make a move without raising suspicion. Moreover, both the south and east park exits would be secured by now, with every departing vehicle subject to search. Miguel wouldn't dare attempt to leave the park with Carmelita. The highway south of Tusayan, though outside the park boundary, was sure to be blockaded by now, rendering Chuck's plan impossible.
Chuck turned 180 degrees to face due north, his boots planted in the thick layer of pine needles covering the forest floor. The next chapter of this saga would not take place in Phoenix or Albuquerque. Miguel was trapped in the park, and Chuck was trapped here with him. Miguel had murdered Donald.
He was holding Carmelita hostage. Chuck had to take the fight directly to him.
Chuck set off back through the trees toward the village. In his pocket, Janelle's phone continued its double-buzzes. He would check the latest in the stream of group texts soon enough, but he wanted to think things through on his own first.
A national park ranger had been murdered. The story would make headlines across the nation in a matter of hours. Donald's fellow rangers would not rest until they'd caught or gunned down a suspect, any suspect, in the killingâincluding Chuck, regardless of any defense Rachel might be mounting on his behalf. Having been posted on the Internet for much of the day, Carmelita's disappearance was destined to grow exponentially more public in the hours ahead as well. It wouldn't be long before someone linked Donald's murder with Carmelita's disappearance.
Tonight, it was easy enough to predict, most of Robert Begay's rangers would cruise the village and park roads while a core team developed a comprehensive strategy for moving forward at daylight. Robert's troops, along with an army of additional law-enforcement officers summoned from Flagstaff, Williams, the Navajo Nation, even Phoenix, would turn the park inside out, systematically searching every building and vehicle in the village and surrounding campgrounds and parking lots, and using bloodhounds to track Chuck's flight into the forest. The army of searchers would not stop until Chuck and Miguel and Carmelita were found.
Chuck had until daybreak, no longer, to track down Carmelita in advance of the rangers. He did not want to think of what Miguel might do to Carmelita if cornered by the authorities. Staying ahead of the rangers meant quickly arranging another exchange with Miguel, and this time making sure the handoff worked. By now, Miguel would have made his way from the
railroad wye back to his hotel room in the village. He likely was flying low, possibly trying to reach Chuck.
As if on cue, Janelle's phone gave the single-buzz indication of an incoming phone callâbut the call was from Clarence's number.
Before setting off for the Backcountry Information Center from camp, Chuck had insisted Janelle and Clarence not call him. Instead, he'd assured them, he would call them as soon as the exchange was complete and he and Carmelita were in the clear. But that had been before the shooting.
“Where are you? What's going on?” Clarence asked the instant Chuck answered.
“Let me talk to Jan,” Chuck said.
“We need to knowâ”
“Jan,” Chuck repeated. “I need to talk to her.”
“Okay,” Clarence grumbled.
“Chuck, is that you?” Janelle asked when she came on the line seconds later, her voice laced with fear.
Chuck's heart leapt into his throat at the sound of her voice. “Yes,” he said.
“You're alive. You're okay.” Her relief was palpable even as she tried to speak quietly. “Give me a minute. I'm walking away. It's a zoo here.” A pause, then, a little louder, “They say there's been a shooting, that somebody's been killed. We heard the shots. They said it was an adult, not a child . . . but still . . . oh, Chuck.”
“What about Carm? Anything?”
“You don't have her?” When Chuck didn't reply, she provided her own answer. “I knew it.” Her voice gathered strength. “Everybody's checking in, but nobody's seen anything. They're all over the place. Rangers, too. They're everywhere.”
“The rangers will be coming your way. It won't be long.”
“They're already here, asking all sorts of questions. The shooting, I thought it wasâ” She stopped, then started again.
“I don't know what I should say to them. We have to tell them about Carm. It's time. But . . . you didn't call.”
“I
couldn't
call.”
“You were there?”
“It was Donald. He's dead, Jan.”
“My God, Chuck. Donald? And you? You're all right?”
“I got away, but they think . . .”
“They think you did it,” she finished for him. “They're being careful, what they're saying, the way they're asking, but I can tell. Where are you? We have to figure this out. We have to find Carm.”
“Whoever's got her, I'm gonna kill him.”
“I've been thinking about it. The voice. I'm sure of it now. It's not Miguel.”
“You're right,” Chuck agreed. He'd held that thought in the back of his mind since Janelle had first expressed doubt, back in camp, about the computerized voice.
The caller had known the correct pronunciation of Boucher, had been familiar with the network of inner-canyon trails, had pronounced BIC as a word, and had directed Chuck to the perfect ambush site at the edge of the village. All were things a small-time drug dealer from Albuquerque wasn't likely to knowâthough plenty of others would.
“We have to talk,” Janelle said. “Now. Face to face. But you can't come here. They'll arrest you. They haven't said so, but I know they will. I can't think straight, Chuck. Carm. My baby.” She began to cry.
“Okay, okay. It's gonna be all right,” Chuck soothed. “I'll meet you south of the Backcountry Information Center,” he continued, making a quick decision. “Back in the trees. It's quiet there, dark. But you'll have to get away from camp.”
“They can't stop us, right?”
“Us?”
“Clarence and me. We're not under arrest or anything.
Mami
and
Papi
can look after Rosie.”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen,” Janelle repeated. “And Chuck?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Chuck swallowed, his knees weakening. “We'll get through this, Jan,” he told her. “Carm's going to be okay. I swear to you, we'll find her.”
He pocketed Janelle's phone and cut through the forest toward the information center, his thoughts turning to his mounting worries about Carmelita. It was closing in on twenty-four hours since she'd gone missing, a long time for a little girl. And, assuming she was being held by someone other than her father, someone who had ruthlessly gunned down Donald, there was no telling what might be happening to her now.
1 a.m.
As he headed toward the village, Chuck worked his way through the many possibilities for what lay ahead, growing increasingly perplexed.
The kidnapper knew the Grand Canyon well, and knew about Chuck's unreported find deep in the canyon, too. Who might that be? Any number of people. Even though Chuck had gone silent about his discovery around the time of the Bland of Brothers and Anasazi-cannibalism controversies, most members of the Southwest archaeological community likely had heard something about it over the years. The question was, who might set enough store by what they'd heard to deem it worthy of kidnapping Carmelita?
He sifted through name after name until, taken aback by the outlandishness of his thought process, he stopped at one name in particular. What about Janelle? How well, he forced himself to consider, did he really know his newlywed wife?
The very idea was preposterous. But Chuck owed it to Carmelita to ask himself the question: could the beautiful young woman who'd just told Chuck she loved him possibly be taking him for a ride? Could she, in any remotely fathomable way, be responsible for Carmelita's disappearance and Donald's murder?
Janelle knew about Chuck's discovery, his “retirement fund” as he jokingly referred to itâthough he'd never told anyone, not even Janelle, about the necklaces and disks. He'd wanted to keep them, the last pieces of the puzzle, to himself until he unveiled his discovery to the world. Other than that one omission, however, he had shared more details about his find with Janelle than with anyone else.
“It's worth a fortune,” Chuck had told her. He'd explained
how explosive the discovery would be when he disclosed it publicly, and how working for Marvin Begay these last two years had convinced him the time had come to do so.
He'd told Clarence about his discovery, too, before Janelle had even entered the picture. Chuck shook his head in disbelief. Could Janelle and Clarence be in on this together? That could explain an awful lot. Chuck had told Clarence and Janelle plenty about the Grand Canyon, more than enough for the two of them to direct his movements, puppet-like, in the hours since Carmelita had gone missing. And as for the discovery on Cope Butte, though he hadn't told the two of them about the necklaces, he'd told them about the pots with their amazing exteriors, and hinted that there was much more to the find as well. Was it possible the two of them saw Chuck as nothing more than a meal ticket, a pathway to ill-gotten wealth?
Chuck thought of how easily Clarence had masked his knowledge of the discovery while describing Arturo Dinaveri's purported shrine to Janelle in front of Robert Begay at the campsite, and of how smoothly, in response, Janelle pretended Clarence's tale was the first she'd ever heard of any such rumored treasure.
It was Janelle who came up with the idea of visiting the Grand Canyon with Chuck and the girls. She and Clarence could have planned for Clarence's subsequent arrival at the canyon, after which Carmelita had gone missing. Clarence could have spiked Chuck's shot of tequila upon arriving at the campground. Janelle and Clarence could have taken Carmelita, planted the “NO COPS” note, and directed Chuck into the canyon and nearly to his death, with Janelle using her computer skills to disguise the caller's voice and set up Chuck's phone to supply its location.
