Shadow Bones (13 page)

Jake leaned over and squeezed her hand. “We'll figure it out.”

Skye's cell phone rang, and she rooted in her purse for it. She was afraid it was about to click over to voice mail but she finally managed to dig it out and punch the button. “Skye Blackbird.”

“Skye, you need to get to the mine.” James's voice sounded strained. “There's been an explosion.”

T
he stars shone in the night sky like a million of those elusive diamonds against a backdrop of black velvet. If only the diamonds in Skye's mine were as plentiful and as easily seen. Skye rubbed the gooseflesh on her arms, cold more from James's words than from the temperature.

Explosion. Every mine owner's worst nightmare.

She should call her mother and Peter, but she dreaded hearing how this was all her fault for pressing into the Mitchell tube, for she had no doubt that was where the explosion had occurred. Her stomach twisted at the thought of what she might find. She just prayed there were no fatalities, no injuries.

They usually didn't work the miners at night, but James had been having round-the-clock shifts since he wanted to have some kind of proof to show Peter, who would eventually find out how Skye had used the loan money from the bank.

“Is there anyone I can call for you?” Jake asked, breaking into Skye's thoughts.

She glanced across the seat at him. He'd insisted on driving her out to the mine, and he'd kept his foot buried in the accelerator. They were coming up on the mine now—in record time. Skye wasn't sure she was ready to see what was waiting at the end of the road.

“No, I'll have to call my mother and Peter.”

“You make it sound like the end of the world.”

“It might be the end of my managing the mine,” she admitted. “Mother has never been sure it's a job for a woman anyway. She just might yank it from me.”

“It might not be that bad. Maybe it's just a small explosion that did no real damage.”

She shook her head. “James sounded grim. It's probably worse than I imagine.” The scent of smoke came through her open window, and she grimaced. “Smell that? I wish we could see something.” She moved restlessly on the seat.

“We're almost there.” He managed one last hairpin curve and pulled into the parking lot.

Skye was out the door almost before he brought the SUV to a stop. She took off for the mine at a dead run. Jake was on her heels. The spotlights and the bright moon illuminated the smoke billowing from the mouth of the mine. She felt sick at the sight.

James stood talking with two other men near the mine door. Skye recognized them as the second shift foreman Willy and her cousin Michael.

James saw her as she ran toward them. “It's bad, Skye.”

He didn't have to tell her—she could see it by the way the smoke billowed from the opening. Only his eyes peered from a face blackened by smoke. “Is everyone okay, Pop?”

“Yes, no injuries.”

She closed her eyes. “Thank You, God,” she whispered. She opened her eyes and stared at him. “The Mitchell tube?”

He nodded. “Yep. What little progress we'd made is gone. That whole corridor is buried in rubble.” He rubbed his chin and sighed.

“What about the rest of the mine?”

“Fine. Nothing else was touched.”

Michael was looking worried. “If I didn't know better—” He broke off and looked away.

“If you didn't know better?” she prompted.

“I'd say it was deliberate.”

Jake arrived to hear Michael's comment. “You think someone used an explosive?”

Her cousin shrugged. “It was powerful—not like a cave-in. I can't imagine what else would have caused it.”

Skye absorbed the information in silence. The thought had flickered on the edges of her conscious thought all the way out here, she realized. Hardly anyone knew what she was doing, though. Who would have wanted to stop the exploration?

She turned to James. “What do you think, Pop?”

“I think it was just an explosion of gas or a cave-in. But Michael knows more about it than I do.”

She wished she could believe it was a spark that ignited gases in the mine. She had a sinking feeling it was more than that. “Could it have been a disgruntled worker?”

“Maybe.” James sounded weary.

“When can we get in to assess the damage?” Jake asked.

“Probably morning. The dust and smoke are still settling.”

“What can cause an explosion like this?” Jake stepped nearer to the mine entrance and peered in.

“A spark can ignite gases in the mine,” Skye told him.

“But you don't think that's the cause of this one?”

“I'm sure beyond a doubt. But Michael has a different view.” James glanced toward the other man.

Michael shrugged. “Maybe I want to believe it was sabotage rather than negligence. I thought we were being extra careful.”

“You were.” Skye held her watch up to the light. “Let's all get some rest. Maybe it will look better in the morning.”

“Maybe,” James said in a monotone.

She could tell by James's tone of voice that he didn't believe a word she said. His pessimism fueled her feelings of inadequacy. Maybe this was her fault. “We're lucky no one was hurt. That's the important thing.”

Michael nodded. “Luckily, it was break time and everyone was outside eating their dinner.”

James took off his filthy hat and rubbed his head. “It
could have been worse. We had ten men down that corridor earlier in the evening.”

“Well, send them all home. We'll deal with this tomorrow.” She glanced at Jake. “Could you run me to my mother's?”

“You're going to tell them?” James asked.

“I have to tell them tonight before they hear it from somewhere else.”

“Too late,” Jake said, his gaze going past her to the parking lot.

She turned to see Peter and her mother getting out of the car. Skye wasn't ready for this. How did she tell Peter she'd taken the bank's loan and put it in the mine? He'd kill her. She swallowed hard and turned to greet them.

“Skye, are you all right?” Her mother reached for her.

Skye burrowed against her mother's shoulder. The comfort of the embrace was what Skye needed right now. She felt she'd been reeling from blow after blow for days. Tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back. The last thing she needed was to show weakness in front of the men. And in front of her mother. She had to prove she was competent to stay in charge of the mine.

Even if she wondered about that herself.

Forcing a confidence to her voice that she didn't feel, she pulled away. “I'm fine and so is everyone else.”

Her mother patted Skye's face. “That's all that matters then. I know you, Skye. You're probably running
through a thousand scenarios to see what you could have done differently, but you stop it right now. These things happen sometimes. It's no one's fault. And it's certainly not yours.”

Peter patted Skye on the shoulder. “We'll get it back up in no time, Skye. Don't fret about it.”

The comfort in his voice brought her even closer to tears. “I was going to tell you about this today anyway, but there's something you don't know.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “You sound scared. You should know by now not to be afraid of me.”

“I just don't want to lose your respect,” she whispered.

“You won't. What is it?”

“I didn't use the loan money on The Sleeping Turtle. I used it on the mine.”

For a minute his face was impassive, then the beginnings of a frown flickered between his eyes. “Why didn't you tell me in the first place the mine needed some capital? I would have given you money toward it. You wouldn't have had to borrow money for that. I thought we were in this together.”

“I knew you disapproved of what I wanted to do.”

His face slackened, and his jaw dropped open. “Don't tell me you opened the Mitchell tube!” He glanced back toward the mine opening where dust still billowed.

“Yes,” she admitted in a small voice. “I did.”

“And that's where the cave-in occurred?”

She rushed on at his clipped voice. “James thinks it might have been deliberate.”

“That's ridiculous. I told you the Mitchell tube was dangerous!”

“I think we should assess things before blame is thrown around.” Jake moved out of the shadows.

“I suppose you encouraged her in this,” Peter said, scowling at Jake.

Skye's mother put her hand on her husband's arm. “Remember your blood pressure, Peter.” She turned her gaze to Skye. “We should have told him. I was wrong to keep it from him.”

“I know, Mother,” Skye said meekly. “I was going to tell him today, but everything started happening.”

Peter's jaw twitched. “You knew about this, Mary? Why didn't you tell me?”

“You'd always said the Mitchell tube was dangerous. I didn't want to worry you.”

“And I was right.” He sighed and his voice softened. “There's no help for it, I suppose. We'll have to live with the consequences. How extensive is the damage?”

“James says the rest of the mine is fine, but the Mitchell corridor has caved in.”

“Just as well,” Peter said. “Maybe now you'll listen to sense.” His face softened as he looked at Skye. “You're young, Skye. I know the impetuosity of youth. We all have to take our licks and learn the hard way. I'm sure you'll listen now when you're told an area is dangerous. And no one was hurt, so things will be fine.”

A wave of love for her stepfather swept over her. He might scold her, but he always supported her in the end. “Thanks, Peter. I'm sorry I disappointed you.”

“We'll talk about it tomorrow,” her mother said. She leaned up and kissed Skye's cheek. “I'm going home to bed. This is too much excitement for me.” She tugged on her husband's arm. “Come along, Peter.”

Peter pressed her arm. “You get to bed, too, Skye. You look done in.”

Skye watched them walk away and let her breath out.

“That wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, was it?” Jake fell into step beside her as she headed for the SUV.

“No, it wasn't. But there may be more coming.”

“I'm going to poke around a little in the morning. Just in case you're right about it being sabotage. I'm not an expert, but I've dealt with my share of people tampering with my digs. I might turn up something.”

 

Trails of dust still blew in wisps from the mine opening. It was early, only seven. Jake stared at the mine entrance. He could do this. The last time in there he'd been upset about Skye being injured. There was no such problem today.

In spite of his silent encouragement to himself, he paused at the door into the mine. He hated closed-in spaces. That was one reason he loved his job, loved living out under the stars. No walls pressing around him, threatening to squeeze the breath out of his body.

He hated to let a childhood incident rule his adult life, but no matter how many times he told himself he would stride forth into a tight place, his throat would
close up and his chest would squeeze until he was gasping for breath.

But today was a new day. He was going to walk through that door and explore the cause of the explosion. And no petty fear of close spaces was going to have him running. Flexing the muscles in his jaw, he strode forward.

A new wave of dust and smoke hit his lungs, and he coughed, sweeping his hand back and forth to clear the air so he could see. His chest tightened, but he ignored it. Moving forward with his hand on the rough stone wall, he went in the direction of the sounds he heard: men talking and the sound of equipment.

The hallway sloped downward, and Jake paused, fighting the tightness in his chest.
I can do this.
He took a couple of deep breaths, coughing when the dust expanded in his lungs. His chest squeezed even more.

Michael materialized from an opening on the right. “Jake, can you come here a minute? I need someone to hold a light.” He beckoned with his hand.

Swallowing his rising nausea, Jake focused on following the other man. All he had to do was put one step in front of the other. Easy as falling into the water. This was not a problem.

Keeping his gaze on Michael's back, he went down the side corridor. Was it his imagination that it narrowed as he went along? Jake told himself not to gauge it, not to watch the walls.

Michael was crouching in the rubble at the end of the corridor and rubbing his hands over some marks on the
wall. “Focus the light here. I want to take some pictures.”

Glad to be able to concentrate on something other than the way his chest felt every breath and every beat of his heart, Jake knelt on one knee and aimed the light. He looked at the way the rock was gouged out and rubbed his fingers against the black.

“Looks like an explosive.” He brought his hand to his nose. “Smells like it to. You need to get an explosive expert in there. I'd say there's a distinct possibility this explosion wasn't an accident.”

“That's what I thought all along,” Michael said grimly. “I was taking every precaution on this project, and it wasn't unsafe.”

“Have you told Skye?”

“No, I was trying to keep her out of this. She won't be happy about it.”

“But it might get rid of some of that guilt she's carrying around.”

“You don't know the half of it. That girl carries the world on her shoulders.”

“Any idea why?” Jake stood and resisted the urge to bolt for the door behind him.

“She thinks it's her fault her father left, and she's been trying to make it up to her mom ever since.”

“Why would she think that? It's always about the adults, not the kids.”

“She and her dad—my uncle—had an argument the night he left and she told him she hated him and to stay out of her life.”

“That hardly sounds like Skye. She seemed to adore her dad.”

“She did, generally. But at that time, she was wanting to open The Sleeping Turtle, and Uncle Harry wanted her to come to work with him at the mine. They argued about it. She didn't mean a word of it, but Skye can be pretty hotheaded.”

“I've noticed.” Beads of sweat had popped out on Jake's forehead. He pulled out his bandana and wiped them away. “So with him gone, she's all the more determined to do both.”