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Authors: Gwen Molnar

BOOK: Old Bones
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Chapter Eleven

Twice Casey thought he spotted the men, and buzzed museum security. The first time, a man with a cane came through the turnstile and a few minutes later a man with shaggy eyebrows that almost joined entered the museum foyer. When Casey pointed out the second man, the guard smiled. “That's Dr. Foss, big-time palaeontologist from the University of Calgary.”

“Oh, sorry,” said Casey.

“Don't be,” the guard told him. “Better to err on the side of caution.”

The second time, Casey was sure. Two men came through the turnstile one right after the other. The second man, who again had eyebrows exactly like those of the man Casey had seen and heard in the Hoodoo Hotel, stepped forward and put his right hand under the elbow of the first man, who was limping. Casey pressed the security buzzer. He nodded toward the men as two security guards appeared.

One guard approached the men: the other stood beside Casey's table.

“It's a rather difficult walk up these ramps,” Casey heard the first guard say to the two men. “We have wheelchairs available. Can I get you folks one?”

“That's mighty kind of you,” the limping man said. “I broke my ankle a while ago and the darn thing still hurts a lot. You mind pushing me around, Bill?” he asked the other man.

“Not a bit, Wilf,” replied his companion. “But you'll owe me big. One two-pound steak when we pass through Calgary tomorrow.”

“You got it.”

The first man eased himself into the wheelchair the guard had rolled up.

“Got a long drive ahead of you tomorrow, I take it,” Casey heard the guard ask.

“Nah,” said the seated man, “just to Cochrane. We run the garage across from the big ice-cream stand — get a lot of business from all the Calgarians who drive over there on weekends for ice cream.”

“That right?” said the guard. “I'll have to drive down one of these days.”

“If you do, come see us,” Bill said, as he pushed the wheelchair along. “Our garage is called ‘The Brothers'; we'll top off your tank for free.”

Casey reached down for his backpack; the oh-so-frustrating and humiliating day over at last. “Wouldn't you know,” he said to himself, “The darn thing's caught under my chair leg.” He got down on his hands and knees to unwind the strap. When it was freed Casey stood up. There was a long white envelope on his desk.
They've fired me
, he thought.
I've wasted everyone's time and the museum's money, and they've fired me
.

Sighing, he opened the middle drawer of his small desk and took out a letter opener. He could hear his father's voice saying, “Never rip open an envelope; you might tear what's inside or you might make it harder to read a mailing date or a name.”

Casey dutifully slid the edge of the letter opener under the flap, slit open the envelope, took out the paper inside, looked at it, and gasped.

Not a dismissal notice. It was a cheque. A cheque for his first month's duties. A big cheque. Casey sat at the desk and laid the cheque on it. He saw Trevor sliding towards him and just got the cheque turned over in time.

“Stashing away your ill-gotten gains, I see,” Trevor made a lunge for the cheque but Casey caught his wrist and gave it a hard twist.

“Mind your own business, Trevor,” Casey said as he pocketed his cheque.

“If you're getting more than me for just sitting around, I'm going to make an official complaint.”

“And if you don't stop bugging me, I'm going to make a complaint.”

Trevor slunk off and Casey sat down.

“My money,” he whispered, no longer tired or bored or frustrated or humiliated: just happy. “I earned this. It's all mine.”

He sat staring at the cheque. “Maybe I won't cash it. Maybe I'll frame it and look at it. Then again …” Into his mind flashed the imagine of a mountain bike he'd seen on the last walk he'd taken into downtown Drumheller. It was a flame red. It had all the bells and whistles. It had more gears than he'd ever seen.
And
, Casey thought to himself as he picked up the cheque and smiled a huge smile,
I can afford it!

Chapter Twelve

“It'll be light for hours,” Mandy said. She and Casey were sitting on the Normans' veranda. Mandy was eating Jell-O and Casey was enjoying a chocolate sundae. He looked over at Mandy.

“Is that all the dessert you're going to have?”

“Well, I have to eat things that won't irritate my throat, and with this darn milk allergy of mine, I can't have ice cream or puddings or anything like that.”

“When are you going to be able to eat some more solid food?” Casey asked. “I make a heck of an omelette.”

“Somehow I can't see you cooking, Casey. But when I can eat an omelette, I'll let you know.”

“Good,” said Casey.

Mandy was pretty well; she looked better every day, and the wonderful glow she'd had the day Casey'd seen her in the cafeteria was slowly coming back. But she still wasn't supposed to speak loudly or do any jumping or heavy lifting — or swimming.

When she'd first come home things had been awkward, Mandy not being used to anyone but her family living there. Mandy had not been her usual friendly self and couldn't hide her resentment when Casey went off swimming. Casey finally realized it really got to Mandy that she couldn't practise too, and cut his pool visits to one a week instead of three. Mandy was grateful and the good times started.

“I am so glad you're back in town, Mandy,” Casey told her, thinking how easy she was to be with and, having grown up in a family of four boys, how different it was spending so much time with a girl — especially this girl. “It's great to have something to look forward to after work. My days are awfully boring.”

Mandy put down her empty dish and smiled. “Your days are boring? Try mine.”

The Normans had had a celebration dinner for Mandy when she got home a couple of weeks ago. She could have only soup and Jell-O, but she didn't seem to mind.

“It is so great to be back,” she sighed contentedly. “All those weeks away with only reading and TV. You'll be happy to know, dear parents,” she continued, “I've finished all the homework for the rest of the year in social studies, so, when I finally get back to school, I can start a senior biology course.”

Mrs. Norman smiled. “Had a hunch you'd not be wasting your time.” Mandy attended St. Hilda's, an exclusive, academically challenging girls-only school in Calgary.

“You planned anything for us to do tonight?” Casey wondered.

“Dad's going to take us to Horsethief Canyon as soon as he can get away from the museum.”

“That's great. I've been looking forward to seeing it.”

Whenever Casey was free, he and Mandy would set off on an adventure. They'd bicycle north on the west bank of the Red Deer River, cross at Bleriot Ferry, the little motor–and-winch contraption said to be the busiest ferry in Alberta, and ride home along the east bank. Mandy's bike was good, but the red one Casey'd bought with his first cheque was much better. It could do about anything. He loved that bike. Some nights he even dreamed about it.

When they weren't riding, they'd hitch rides with some of the museum staff — once south to the hoodoos to spend a couple of hours exploring among the odd mushroom-like sandstone formations sculptured over the centuries by wind and water erosion.

Another time they went on part of a
Centrosaurus
bonebed hike in Dinosaur Provincial Park, one of the world's largest dinosaur fields. Their guide on that trip said palaeontologists learned an enormous amount about the behaviour and lifestyle of dinosaurs from beds such as these.

“The whole place looks so uninhabited.” Sitting in the shade of a sandstone overhang, Mandy shivered. “You'd think there wouldn't be any wildlife around here, but look.” She pointed to a mule deer finding what coolness it could in a coulee.

“And there's a scorpion right by your boot.” Casey pointed.

Mandy quickly moved her foot.

“Better that than a rattlesnake, at least,” Mandy said. A comfortable silence surrounded them as the guide took the rest of the group further along the trail. “I'd like to go to Horseshoe Canyon again one of these days — it's farther away than Horsethief where Dad'll be driving us tonight. And I'd like to go to the LITTLE church they say ‘seats ten thousand people, six at a time.' Want to come?”

“Sure,” Casey said, “I've never seen either one.”

“Horsethief Canyon's not open to the public at night,” Mandy explained, “but Dad says we can wander around the top of it while he has his meeting.”

“All right!” Casey gazed into space thinking maybe this time he'd find all the parts of a dinosaur tooth, or even a whole tooth, or …

Mandy could read his mind. “A lot of people explore that site every day, so don't get your hopes up on making a big find.”

The view from the top of Horsethief Canyon was spectacular. They'd brought a couple of folding chairs and were comfortably taking in the sights. As with everywhere along the river valley, the walls of the canyon were earth tones of every variety: black, brown, ochre, tan.

“Look at all those gullies and slashes,” Casey swept his hand from side to side. “I read that a horse thief could drag a horse into one of them and hide forever in that maze.”

“Easy to believe,” Mandy said. “Let's walk a little way down there.”

“Are you sure you'll be okay?”

“We'll just take an easy hike,” Mandy said.

“How much time do we have before your dad picks us up?” Casey asked.

Mandy checked her watch. “About two hours,” she told him. “It'll stay light at least that long.”

“Up here, maybe,” Casey observed, “not in the valley.”

Casey climbed down toward a shadowy area that looked like a cave's mouth.

“That cave looks pretty near,” he called back. “Let's give it a look.”

“It's almost too near,” Mandy said as she caught up with Casey. “And it's only about four feet deep. I checked it out last time I was here and so has every other visitor to Horsethief Canyon.”

“Oh.” Casey looked around. He pointed toward a far hill. “Then let's go across to that narrow valley between those hills.”

“Where?” Mandy asked him. Casey pointed again. “Yeah, I see it. I never even noticed it when I was here before; let's go.”

After walking for half an hour they didn't seem to be getting any closer to the far hill, but they were deep in the valley. The evening air began to have a hint of chill. As Mandy started to walk more quickly, her boot hit a rock and she fell forward. Casey knelt beside her. Realizing what such a jar could do to her fragile throat, he said with concern, “You okay, Mandy?”

“I don't feel great.” Her voice sounded raspy. “My throat is starting to sting. The doctors said if that happened, I was to stay still and take my pain pills.”

“You have them with you?” asked Casey.

“Yeah,” said Mandy, taking a small packet from the back pocket of her shorts.

“So lie down,” Casey said, his brain racing. “Here, put my jacket under you and huddle into yours. I'll climb up and wait for your dad. He can call for help on his cellphone.”

“But it'll be totally dark down here by then.” Mandy's faint whisper could hardly be heard. She spread Casey's jacket onto the cold clay and eased herself down. “How'll they find me? These pills are very strong and make me so sleepy I'll probably be out of it. I won't hear people calling, and I'm not supposed to shout.”

“Right,” Casey said. “You don't have any matches, do you?” he asked hopefully.

“No.”

“Okay, so we can't make a fire even if there was any wood,” Casey said. “Here's what we'll do. Your dad's bound to have some sort of light in the Jeep. I'll take it, find you again — I'm sure I can, then I'll signal with the light when he comes with help. You get as comfortable as you can. I'll be back.”

It was twilight in the valley now, and the air was definitely cool. Casey looked toward the summit of Horsethief Canyon. The sky beyond the summit still looked light and almost without colour.

Casey figured he could get up there before the valley got totally dark, and started the climb. The rough, red-clay canyon walls were almost black now and the deep slashes in their surface made climbing difficult. He turned to check on Mandy's location and could barely see the humped outline of his friend.

How will I find her once it's really dark
? Casey wondered. I'll need some sort of marker. Casey looked round. A jet-black area far to his right told him he was level with the mouth of the cave all the visitors went to. He felt around for a rock, then took off his T-shirt, spread it fully out, and put the rock on it.

That'll hold it down
, he thought.

Now he was really chilly and scrambled up as fast as the uneven canyon sides would allow.

From the summit, he could see the sun setting in the west, but the valley was in deep shadow. Casey could see the white blur of his T-shirt. He took off one of his shoes and set its toe pointing toward the shirt. Of Mandy, there wasn't a sign.

Well
, he thought.
I'll use the flashlight to get to the shirt and head straight down. Mandy'll be in a line from there. I hope.

Rubbing his hand along his arms, Casey thought of the day he'd got the sunburn and wished he could feel even a little of that heat now.

Where was Dr. Norman? It had to be two hours since he'd dropped them off. Casey sat on one of the folding chairs and put up his feet on the other. He wished Mandy were sitting beside him. Not a sound. No voices. No birds. Nothing.

The sky at his back was darkening now, and the valley, black. Casey could see no sign of his white shirt.

Why, he wondered, hadn't he and Mandy been content to just sit and talk? Now he was sure to be in trouble again, like he had been last year when he'd gone out on his own to the Old Willson With Two L's Place and almost died. His dad would about give up on him after this, and the Normans would blame him for Mandy's setback. And he hadn't been any use spotting the crooks.

He remembered a saying of his grandmother's. “I feel like crawling into a hole and pulling the hole in after me.”
That's exactly how I feel,
Casey thought.

A car's motor toiled in the distance. Casey sighed, brought his feet down from the second chair and stood up.

The light Dr. Norman had in the Jeep was powerful, but his cellphone wasn't working. He wasn't keen that Casey should go alone down into the valley, but he agreed to it when he realized Mandy couldn't answer his calls, and only Casey knew where she was. He gave Casey a big grey sweatshirt to put on and tucked a blanket under it to cover Mandy. Casey rolled back the sleeves, grateful for the warmth of the long shirt that went almost to his knees.

Casey put on the shoe he'd left pointing toward Mandy. He was on his way down as Dr. Norman, driving off to get help, turned his jeep and purred down the road from the summit roundabout. Quiet settled in again. Casey was grateful for the bright circle of light helping him see ahead.

I should spot the T-shirt soon
, he thought as he eased carefully down the irregular slope.
Am I going too far to the right?
he wondered, for there wasn't any sign of his white shirt and the surface of the cliffs seemed different. It occurred to him that the way down had been much easier this time.

He swung the light around. To his surprise it showed something he recognized. “The cave,” said Casey. “The darn tourist cave. I'm miles off course.”

“Mandy! Mandy! Wake up and answer me, Mandy!” he shouted.

He knew there'd be no answer but he kept calling anyway. Casey sat down at the cave entrance and tried to remember how far the cave was from the route they'd taken down.

“Now,” he said, “how would Dad handle the situation?” He knew perfectly well that his father wouldn't have got into this situation in the first place. Never mind that; how would he get out of it? “Think,” he told himself.

“Well, point one: I am much too far to the right. Point two: The cave is roughly parallel to my T-shirt so I must edge to the left till I spot it. Point three: Get to the T-shirt and head down to Mandy.”

Not that easy. Trying to move left on the level was much harder than going up or down, or being on the path to the cave. Every time he came to a fissure he had to work his way up to where it started and come down the other side. He was glad for the light, but holding it didn't make climbing any easier. He felt panic rise up.

“They'll be here soon with a stretcher and I won't be with Mandy.”

Then, almost as if his dad were right beside him, Casey heard, “Steady on, son, you're doing fine.” Swinging his light way to the left, Casey caught sight of a glimpse of white and side-stepped toward it. Mandy should be in line below the white shirt. She was.

With Dr. Norman's light fixed shining uphill, Casey took the blanket from under the grey sweatshirt and tucked it around the sleeping Mandy. A damp clay smell filled his nostrils and he pulled the sweatshirt close around him. He sat down beside Mandy and found her cold hands and rubbed them till they felt a little warmer. He shivered and looked up to summit of Horsethief Canyon.

“Thank goodness,” he whispered.

Headlights ringed the summit edge and powerful lights moved down the cliffs. He could hear voices now, coming down toward him.

They'll take care of Mandy. She'll be okay now. My part's over,
he thought.
All I have to do now is climb back up, get a ride to town, and get to bed so I can be up in time for work. It's sure not fun anymore; it's work!

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