“Like your gifts?” Jake asked gently.
“Yah. Like mine. I still see things.” She reached for Rance’s hands. “I expect you know what I’m talking about now.” Vera shook her head. “We don’t ask for these gifts—they just are what they are, and it’s up to us to make the best of them.”
“What if we can’t trust them to be true, to be real?” Rance asked, feeling comforted that at last someone seemed to understand his predicament.
“They’re always true,” Vera explained. “It’s our interpretations that go off kilter. But the visions, the gifts, what we are shown…all real.”
She motioned towards the door. “Now, we go to the cave, and you will find what it is you need. After that…?” She shrugged. “Time will tell if it’s bad or good. Some secrets aren’t meant to last forever, only for a time until their use comes to light.”
Then she laughed. “Who knows? Maybe my husband will reveal himself again.”
Rance found little humor in Vera’s words, and even though he knew the old woman would probably love nothing better than to see her husband one last time, Rance sincerely hoped Mason Rogers would stay wherever he was and leave them alone.
Chapter Four
The walk was a short one and the trail well-worn, but grass and weeds crept from beneath rocks to brush against their feet. Rance was used to paved paths and open spaces, not tree arbors where birds cawed or passageways covered with greenery and Lord knew what else. He kept watch for spiders and snakes and whatever creatures they might encounter. Ahead of him, Jake swung a machete to clear overhanging limbs and tall grasses that hadn’t been trimmed in what looked like years. Vera kept a constant chatter. One minute, she’d apologize to Jake for something that had happened in the past; another, she’d reminisce and rationalize, seeming to put puzzle pieces together in her mind.
“At the time, none of us knew what else to do,” she said. “Deborah was wild, and Milo would have killed her if he’d found out she was pregnant.” Vera’s voice wavered. “You must understand that we were just girls, only about fifteen or sixteen at the time. Well, some like me and your moth—Mahala—were in their twenties.”
Jake stopped short and turned around. “Who was Deborah, and what does this have to do with my mother?”
Vera threw her hands in the air. “That’s what I’m trying to explain. But it shouldn’t be me telling you—Mahala should be here.”
He looked exasperated and shook his head. “Vera, whatever it is, just spit it out. If you’re worried I’ll ask Mom about it, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will. In time. And you should.” She motioned for him to continue walking. “We’re almost there.”
Rance wondered what the hell this had to do with Sarah and Mason’s deaths, with his strange memories and with finding the car, but he kept silent and continued watching the ground for unknown critters.
“There,” Vera alerted them. “About fifty yards to your right—that’s the cave. It sits about twenty feet or so above the lake, so you’ll hear the water below. The rocks are sturdy, so don’t worry about falling through.”
Rance wished at that moment that he’d never seen an Indiana Jones film, didn’t know anything about musty caverns, diabolical enemies with evil intentions, secret passageways, rolling boulders, spider-webbed openings or slick, damp walls. Every musical number he’d heard while watching a horror film assaulted his memory banks, as did every scary nuance. He wanted to turn back, but something compelled him to press forward with the others. He had to know why the memories and why Sarah’s death.
And now a new mystery. What did any of it have to do with Jake and the woman called Deborah?
Once inside, Rance felt the earth shift beneath his feet. His head swam with images of the man who’d inhabited the cave during his experiments or thoughtful moments, the man he’d seen when he’d left Jake’s boat. And he had seen him—Rance knew he hadn’t imagined him.
“Anything look familiar?” Vera asked.
Rance nodded. “Yeah. He was standing over there.” He pointed to a wall that rose at one end and dipped further into the ground at the other. When he peered, he saw the outline of a huge metal box. Rance walked closer and let his fingers trace the lettering engraved on the massive iron rectangle.
Vera handed him the key she’d carried from the house. “Go ahead.”
Rance looked at Jake for confirmation before turning the key in the lock. Jake nodded wordlessly, frowning.
“Vera, do you mean Hawk’s uncle, Milo Sanders? Didn’t he have a daughter named Deborah?”
Rance noticed from the corner of his eye that Vera nodded.
“Deborah wasn’t always irresponsible.”
Jake guffawed. “You’re referring to Sister Mary Catherine? Milo’s daughter, the nun?”
The key in Rance’s hands turned as if it were greased, and he felt the latch give. He pushed, and the heavy door swung open. Inside the safe were dozens of file folders and envelopes. Vera brushed him aside and thumbed through the documents until she found what she wanted. Turning, she handed a large packet of paperwork to Jake.
“Don’t know why, but I’m sure this is why Mason and Sarah were killed. That man… What’s his name? Your sister’s friend she worked with?”
Jake nodded. “Danny Gibson.” He took what Vera handed him and walked to the mouth of the cave, checking for light as he began leafing through the documents.
Vera snapped her fingers. “That’s the one, weasel-looking fellow who works for Ben. He was here two days ago, wanted me to let him into Mason’s study. I watched, and he didn’t take anything, but he was really agitated, and he asked if there were any other papers Mason had stored. I told him no. Didn’t trust him and didn’t want him on a fishing expedition down here.”
“So did he give you any trouble after that?” Jake asked.
“No, he left, but I could tell he was upset about something.”
Rance followed him and peered over Jake’s shoulder as he stopped rummaging and pulled out a particular sheet of paper.
“That’s it,” Rance said. “That’s the document I saw through Sarah’s eyes.”
“Vera, why did Doc have my birth certificate? Why didn’t my parents have it?” Then Jake paused and read more. He looked up, shocked. “Vera?”
“That’s right. We were all there. Me, Mahala, Christine.”
“Hawk’s mother was there?” Jake asked.
Vera nodded. “And Georgia Knife Chief and Daniel’s mother, Mary Ann Red Feather. We had all gone to school there, and the place was deserted when Deborah showed up that night, because it was summer and all the other kids had gone home. Her own mother, Susannah, was the midwife, and Mason was still the school’s physician on call. Someone came to the house for him, and he delivered the baby—you—with no electricity, no running water. It was a hard labor, but you both made it. Deborah couldn’t keep you because her husband was so mean, and we all wanted you, but Mahala made the most sense. She was in a bad marriage, too, in a way, but Deborah’s husband would have killed the both of you, and at least with Mahala you’d have brothers and a sister.”
Jake shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, and he leaned against a cave wall. “Are you telling me that I’m adopted?”
“Not really. You were just…kept.” Vera sniffed. “I am so sorry to tell you all of this.”
“No, really, Vera, it’s okay. But I don’t understand. Why all the secrecy? Why didn’t my mother…why didn’t anyone in my immediate family tell me?”
Then he rolled his head back and closed his eyes briefly. “Never mind. Sarah tried to tell me. I thought she was just being spiteful, because I disagreed with her on the casino deal.”
He opened his eyes. “What does all this have to do with her and Doc?”
Vera stood close-mouthed, and she looked at Rance, almost accusingly.
Jake placed a hand on Vera’s shoulder to get her attention. “It’s alright, Vera. Rance is a part of this, thanks to Sarah. What is it? Were they afraid I’d raise a fuss, considering my birth mother is now a nun somewhere in Tulsa? Were they afraid Dad would go off on a drunken bender and cause trouble?”
“You are one of Wahui’s grandsons.”
Jake blinked. “Old Owl?” Then he seemed to reconsider. “Ah. Okay.” He turned to Rance. “Wahui is like a shaman, a tribal elder, and…” His eyes grew rounder, and he stopped talking. “I guess that I’m one of Wahui’s direct lineage, so to speak.”
Vera nodded. “And you all…change. Just the full bloods. Mason was studying you. All of you. He kept records.” Vera thumped the packet Jake held with a thumb and forefinger. “Ben Carson and his men were looking for information dealing with shape-shifting. Somehow, it’s all tied to the land—this land.” She stomped her feet, indicating the land on which they stood.
“Vera, surely not. Doc wouldn’t have told them about the ley lines and my family’s penchant for turning into animals.”
“Doc didn’t tell them shit,” she confirmed.
“Then you admit it?” Rance whispered.
Jake sighed. “Rance, you said Sarah saw me change. You already knew about this.”
“Yeah, but you never confirmed it.” The dread that had shrouded Rance’s thoughts dissipated. “And what are ley lines?”
Vera muttered something in Cherokee and crossed herself. “Don’t ask.”
Jake took a deep breath. “Okay, imagine a matrix of imaginary lines.”
Rance cocked her head. “We’re talking about something that doesn’t exist?”
“I said imaginary lines, but they do exist—you just can’t see them. The Old Ones have passed on stories for decades about these lines that hold power. They’re grounded to the earth, the heavens, everything, and if you step inside them it’s possible—no one I know has proven it—to travel.”
Now, Rance lowered his head, looking up at him with disbelieving eyes. “Time…travel, Jake?”
The Native looked at him accusingly. “You asked me to believe in this cellular memory shit. Don’t you think you’re being hypocritical if you can’t give me the same amount of leeway?”
“But time travel?”
Jake added slowly, “As well as teleportation.”
“R-i-i-i-ight.” Rance took a deep breath, feeling like Alice stepping through the proverbial looking glass. “And this is tied to their murders? How?”
Vera clasped her hands. “Ben Carson and his men wanted the land, but my husband refused to sell it. Mason said he never found the ley lines, but Wahui told him about them, said he’s walked them many times.”
“Who would have told Carson, though?” Jake asked Vera.
“Nobody I know. Had to have been some old one who he got drunk. Someone who had heard the stories. Who knows?” She stared hard at Rance again. “He’s the white man, you know? Wahui said he’d be related to the
U-Ne-Gv U-Ni-Tsi,
who would start a new race of shape-shifters.”
Rance held up his hands. “Whoa. I’m related to a what?”
Vera poked a finger at him. “You have a sister or a cousin or somebody, and she’s the one old Owl said would help start a new race here. You and yours have healthy sexual appetites and good genes.”
Jake’s jaw muscles worked, and Rance knew he had to be thinking the same thing he was, recalling their first encounter that night on his boat, when they’d both lost all inhibition and had mated like animals, unafraid, unwavering, uncaring, just two people in need with no clue of why or how they’d managed to find one another. Now, it seemed, there was a higher purpose that neither of them had known…or fought.
Rance shook his head. “Not me. I’m nobody’s ooh-nee-chee-whatcha-ma-call-her.” Maybe he hadn’t the tools or inclination to fight his attraction to Jake before, but now that he knew there might be supernatural forces at work, he was damned if he’d just hand over his brain to the first mystical moment that enveloped him. Besides…he was gay! Not like he’d be helping repopulate the reservation any time soon.