The Cleric's Vault (10 page)

Adriana
stepped over to the safe that also featured a keypad like the door leading into
the secret room.
 
Her fingers
entered a set of numbers and the little metal box opened with a click.
 
Gently, she reached her hand inside and
withdrew a small, leather bound book.
 
The object was worn.
 
Its
original owner had probably carried it through a vast array of
circumstances.
 
Sean knew that
rain, snow, dry desert, humidity all had different effects on the way artifacts
were preserved.
 
For as old as it
was presumed to be, he was impressed with the book’s excellent condition.
 
She brought it close and held it out to
Sean so he could have a closer look.
 
He clutched it carefully in both hands as if simply touching it might
break.
 

“The
dry air in here has helped preserve it.
 
I was surprised it was in this good a condition considering where I
found it,” Adriana pointed out.

“Where
did you say you found it?” Emily piped in.

“I
didn’t.”

Starks
puckered her lips in understanding, letting the topic go.

Sean
stared at the nearly worn out letters in the faded brown cover.
 
La
Journal de Francisco Coronado
.

Chapter 21

Atlanta, GA

Tommy
paced around the cavernous apartment, deep in thought.
 
Terrance
was dead.
 
He could have been.
 
And Sean had been shot at as well.
 
It was difficult to make sense of it
all.
 
Now Sean was telling him that
the Order of the Golden Dawn was possibly at the center of it all?
 
He’d only learned a little bit about
the secret society in passing.
 
Maybe he had seen it in a presentation somewhere.
 
Tommy couldn’t remember.
 
But he did remember that they were an
odd group, bent on ancient rituals and the idea that there was some sort of
ancient power they could call upon.

The
Order of the Golden Dawn had been historically insignificant, dwindling away in
the early 1920s.
 
Maybe that was
their plan all along.
 
He needed to
talk to Mac.
 
The new riddle he’d
retrieved the night before had to be solved and he had a feeling that his
friend would have an answer.
 
Of course, there was a problem.
 
Joe had been shot during the adventure
a few weeks ago.
 
He was fine and
his shoulder was healing nicely, though still in a sling.
 
The real issue was his better half.
 

Mrs.
McElroy had been less than happy when her husband was nearly killed.
 

When
she had arrived at the hospital, she didn’t say anything to Tommy or Sean.
 
But the look she gave said a million
words.

He
knew Sean felt guilty about involving their long-time friend with the pursuit
of the golden chamber.
 
Although,
it wasn’t like someone put a gun to his head.
 
Well, none of the good guys anyway.

Tommy
felt like he could get a pass from the wife simply because he had been
kidnapped in the fiasco.
 
Surely
she held a little sympathy for that.

His
thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door unlocking.
 

Will
came through the opening with a bag from Panera Bread Company and a couple of
coffees in a drink carrier.
 

“Breakfast?”

“Yeah,
I’m starving.”

“Coffee
with milk, right?”

Tommy
eyed him with a suspicious grin.
 
“How’d you know that?”

Will
raised his eyebrows.
 
“Seems like
you mentioned it a few weeks ago.”

Smiling,
Schultz seemed to accept the explanation and took the proffered beverage.
 
He smelled the intoxicating and
soothing aroma of the brew.
 

Good
coffee was something Tommy loved.
 
On one of his trips to Spain he’d learned of what they called
white coffee.
 
The smooth consistency of the milk was a great
combination with the bitter earthiness of the coffee.
 
He drew a big sip into his mouth, careful of how hot the
drink was based on the warmth of the cup.
 
“Ahhh,” he exhaled.
 
“Now
that’s good Joe.”

“Glad
you like it.
 
Got an egg soufflé
for you too,” he added as he set the food out on the counter nearby.

“Thanks,”
he said and grabbed a fork from within one of the brown bags.
 
“Oh, speaking of Joe, I need to see him
as soon as possible.”

Will
looked dubious.
 
“You sure that’s a
good idea?”

“She’ll
get over it,” he said confidently, masking his uncertainty.

“You
think Joe knows what that riddle means?”
 

Tommy
shrugged.
 
“It’s worth a try.
 
He probably has a better idea than I
do.
 
Joe’s good at these sorts of
things.”

“Maybe
you should call first.”

“Yeah,
probably,” he laughed at the thought and took a bite of the soufflé.

Chapter 22

Nevada Desert

The
morning had been less than hospitable to Alexander.
 
His conversation with Jennings did little to reassure
him.
 
He knew that his mole in the
justice department would do anything he ordered.
 
The problem was whether or not he could follow through
without drawing more attention from the public eye.
 
Last night’s shootout had been just as much of a fiasco as
the ordeal in Georgia a few weeks prior.
 
That was the sort of thing that got far too many people asking
questions.
 
He sipped his coffee
while sitting on a balcony overlooking the desert to the west.
 

In
the distance, The Grand Canyon wound it’s way through the landscape.
 
Lindsey had gone there once as a
child.
 
He recalled the experience
as unpleasant.
 
It had been a
particularly hot day.
 
At the time
he hadn’t cared for the desert climate.
 
His father told him of how sacred the land was.
 
He believed that the veil between God
and man was thinner out there in the desolate plains.
 
Young Alex didn’t fully understand at the time.
 
But as he grew older, his appreciation
of spiritual things became stronger.
 
He spent hours each day studying Biblical texts.
 
Raised a devout Mormon, he also spent a
great deal of time researching the books of the Latter Day Saints and believed
strongly in their ideals and teachings.
 
He had been a zealous advocate for the church.
 
Until sixteen years ago.

Lindsey
had been chosen to be one of the twelve apostles, a group that was part of the
council of the church presidency.
 
It was his father’s dying wish that Alex become part of the presidency’s
cabinet and, because he was one of their primary benefactors, the church conceded
to the old man’s request.
 
The
other members of the group of apostles were receptive, at first, to the younger
Lindsey’s ideas and thoughts.
 
He’d
brought about new revenues and means of bringing in more converts through
outreach programs and fundraising efforts.
 
His influence grew stronger both within the church and
outside of it.
 
He had headed up
subtle public relations campaigns that began erasing what had, for a long time,
been a beleaguered opinion of Mormon beliefs.
 
Then everything changed.

The
church’s President, Howard Hunter, passed away after serving only one year in
the position.
 
It was an unexpected
event, and it forced the cabinet of advisors and apostles to prematurely gather
together in prayer to elect their new leader.

It
was no secret that Alexander wanted to be the next president, or prophet, as it
was known.
 
During the months
leading up to Hunter’s death, Lindsey had become noticeably more aggressive in
his pursuit of the head position, something that was out of character for any
apostle.
 
Alexander had even
mentioned publically how he would run things if he was in charge, something
that left a foul taste in the mouths of the other council members.
 
Apostles were pious men and were not
expected to promote their own ends towards advancement since it was believed
that God would choose the next leader through inspiration.
 
When it came time to elect the new
leader, he was not even among the final few nominated, a fact that had incited
him to question the chamber’s chairman.
 

The
group elected Gordon Hinckley, effectively ensuring Lindsey’s path to
succession would never happen.
 
Alexander was outraged.
 
His
family had contributed tens of millions of dollars to the church.
 
The fundraising and outreach programs
that he’d put together had helped double the church’s revenue in just a few
short years.
 
Yet, he’d been told
he was too young to be elected and that his brazen pursuit of the presidency
belied a character not in keeping with the traditions of a prophet.
 
They claimed that some of his ideas
were too radical and would set a bad precedent.
 
In the proceeding weeks he resigned from his post with the
council and officially left the church, effectively wiping his name from their
record books.
 
He vowed then to
make the old fools would regret their mistakes.
  
He never forgot that vow.

A
warm breeze swept up the mountainside as he sipped his coffee.
 
Caffeine was something the church had
warned against.
 
After his brisk
exit he’d immediately revolted against most of their teachings, including many
of the temperance beliefs.

His
quiet reflections were interrupted by the ringing of a cell phone on the table
next to him.
 
He reached over and
picked it up, hoping it wasn’t more bad news.

“We
have their location, sir,” the voice came through the earpiece.

Weaver
and Collack had done their jobs after all.
 
“Where?”

“In
the mountains outside of Las Vegas.
 
We traced a call from Schulz’s phone a little while ago.
 
We are moving in now,” the voice
continued.

Lindsey
wondered what Sean Wyatt was up to.

“Wait.”
 
He thought for a moment.
 
“Fall back and watch.
 
They may still be of some used to us.
 
Perhaps they will lead us to the next
clue.”

“Yes
sir.”

Lindsey
hung up the phone and peered out into the vast desert.
 
Let
the pawns make their moves.

Chapter 23

Cartersville, Georgia

The
phone near the computer rang loudly.
 
Joe McElroy was busy reading through the day’s news on the monitor when
he heard the ring.
 

His
wife was outside working in the yard.
 
Since he’d gotten home from the hospital, he’d not been able to do the
kind of things he had before.
 
One
day last week he went by his office at the ranger station at the state park
just to grab a few things but other than that Joe had been resigned to staying
at home while his arm healed.
 
It
drove him crazy being cooped up like an animal.
 
Even though the things that happened a few weeks ago were
harrowing, he had not felt so alive in a long time.
 
Adventure was something that he missed but he was content
with his life.
 
He had a good
woman, a great job, and a beautiful cabin in the woods.
 
But helping Sean had brought out
something in him that he’d thought was long since dead.

Another
ring snapped him back to the cabin.
 
“Hello?”

“Joe!”
the familiar voice said loudly from the other end.
 
“How you feelin’ buddy?”

“Tommy…,”
he shifted uneasily in his chair.
 
“I’m doing much better, thanks.”
 
While he spoke he stood up and looked outside to make sure his wife was
still blowing leaves.
 
She was down
the driveway a good hundred feet away accompanied by the distant sound of the
machine attached to her back.
 
“What’s going on buddy?” he asked, satisfied she wouldn’t know what he
was doing.

“I
need your help with something.”

Joe
eased back into the chair at his workstation, eagerly anticipating what Tommy
had to say.
 
His beady eyes gleamed
and his smile raised the beard on his face slightly.
 
“What ya got?”

“The
translation for the second stone.”

McElroy
was already busy typing on the keyboard.
 
He stopped suddenly.
 
“Really?
 
That was quick.
 
How’d you pull that off?”

“A
friend had some software that solved the riddle.”
 
Tommy paused.
 
“Now that friend is dead.”
 
He paused a few seconds.
 
“There are some odd lines in this one.
 
It says, ‘
In desert
mountains above the meadows’ sand, the sunlight points the way.
 
The lions watch the gate to the
spider’s lair.
 
Though the distance
is great, take guidance from the eagle’s wings to the river between the great
mountains in the southern land.
 
Leaves of three unlock the door.”

Joe
sat quietly thinking for a minute.
 
The sound of the leaf blower still permeated the wall from outside
confirming his wife was still busy.
 
“Lions?”
 
Joe sounded
confused.
 
“I don’t remember
hearing much about lions in Native culture.
 
Although there is one place….” He began typing furiously on
the computer’s keypad again.
 
After
a few moments, he clicked the mouse on something that caught his eye on the
screen.
 
Bandelier National
Monument.
 
That’s probably your
best place to start lookin’.”

“New
Mexico?”

“That’s
what Google says.”

“You’re
not looking at Wikipedia are you?
 
Because —“
 
“No,” Joe cut him off.
 
“I’m
looking at the government site.
 
Bandelier had a Native settlement there a long time ago.
 
They left behind some ruins and a
couple of stone lions lying side by side on the ground.”
 
He read a few more lines on the screen
before continuing.
 
“Seems that no
one really knows why the two lion sculptures are there.”

“I’ll
take a look at it.
 
Any idea about
the rest of the riddle?”

Joe
typed in some new words and phrases into the search engine, but, as he scanned
through the content, nothing caught his eye.
 
“I’ll have to get back to you on the rest of it, buddy.
 
Nothing is really popping out at the
moment.”

“Okay,
Mac.
 
I appreciate your help.”

“No
problem, Tommy.
 
Sean still out in
Vegas?”

“At
the moment.”

Suddenly,
Joe heard the door leading into the garage start creaking open.
 
He realized the sound of the leaf
blower was painfully absent.

“Sorry
partner, I gotta go.
 
Talk
soon.”
 
He didn’t wait for Tommy to
say goodbye and hung up the phone just as his wife entered through the door.