The Bloodwater Mysteries: Skullduggery (4 page)

“That's quite a story. I hope the poor man is okay,” her mother said. “Will you be writing about it for the paper?”

“The school newspaper doesn't come out in the summer.”

“Maybe you should get a job with the
Clarion.
”

Roni sat up straight. “That's a great idea.”

“
After
you finish school.”

“Oh.” Roni deflated. She reached down to scratch her ankle. Must be a mosquito bite, she thought. “Hey, what's the deal with Indian Bluff? Is it true that they're putting in condos?”

“Yes. A man named Fred Bloodwater is building a development there.”

“His son is in my class! I thought all the Bloodwaters were dead.”

“Mr. Bloodwater just moved here with his wife and children. They've been living in California. He is the greatgrandson of Augustus Bloodwater, who was the nephew of Zebulon Bloodwater, our city's founder.” Nick smiled. “You'll never guess where they're staying.”

“Bloodwater House?”

“Precisely.”

“Do they know about the Curse?” Roni didn't really believe in the Curse of Bloodwater House, but she knew it would tweak her mother.

“Now Roni!” Nick put on her stern face. “I don't want you spreading stories, and I
especially
do not want you uttering the word
curse
in the same breath as
Bloodwater House.
” Nick Delicata was the secretary to the mayor of Bloodwater. She knew more about running Bloodwater than anybody, and she was as tough as nails when it came to defending her city's reputation.

“Okay, okay. I won't freak out the new victims. I mean owners.” Roni rubbed her ankles together. Now they were both itching. Maybe she was allergic to something.

“See that you don't. As for the area where you found that unfortunate man this afternoon, Mr. Bloodwater's development company is buying the land from Bloodwater College. They're selling it to raise money for a new football stadium. In fact, the city is investing considerable money in the project.”

“I heard they're going to bulldoze everything and put up about a million condos.”

Nick carefully chewed her final bite of salad, then pushed her plate away. “That's an exaggeration. I hate to see such a big development going in on that beautiful piece of land, too. But the mayor thinks we need this kind of growth. Actually, the original plan was to build the condos down in the bottoms to give the owners river access.”

“That's virgin territory,” Roni said.

“Whatever does that mean?” Nick asked as she took their plates to the sink.

“You know, a whole ecosystem that's the way it's always been.”

“Nothing is the way it's always been.”

“Oh, Mom, don't go and get so philosophical on me. There are plants and animals there that can't live anyplace else.”

“I doubt that.”

“Try the trout lily.”

“Is that a plant or a fish?”

“A plant. A plant that only grows for about a three-mile stretch along the Bloodwater River. In the whole world.” Until that moment, Roni could not have cared less about the trout lily, but suddenly she was passionate about saving a plant she had never even seen. Just the idea of plunking a big ugly condo down on top of a tiny defenseless wildflower was enough to make her mad.

“As I was saying,” said Nick, “the plan has changed. Your trout lilies are safe. The development is going in up on the bluff. It will bring in a lot of tax money. The sale will be final this Friday. They'll break ground the same day. Fred Bloodwater will unveil his plan in a public meeting tomorrow.”

“Professor Bloom is taking our class to his presentation.”

“I thought Professor Bloom was a plant specialist.”

“He wants us to see democracy in action. But I still think the development is a bad idea. Condos are ugly. And what if that archaeologist is right, and the bluff is an Indian burial ground or something?”

“What archaeologist?”

“The man we found in the cave! Didn't you listen to anything I said?”

“You didn't tell me he was an archaeologist. In any case, my understanding is that the area has been carefully surveyed, and that no artifacts have been found.”

“Not according to Dr. Dart.”

“Dart? Andrew Dart? That was who you found in the cave?”

“That's him.”

“Hmm. You know, Dr. Dart has been opposed to this development from the beginning. But he hasn't found any evidence that it's worth preserving.”

“He has now. The skeleton! What if it's a million-year-old Indian?”

Nick laughed. “You never exaggerate, do you!”

“What if Dr. Dart found the proof he needed to stop the development, and that's why he was attacked and left for dead!”

“Roni! What makes you think the poor man was attacked?”

“He said so.”

“And who did he say attacked him?”

Roni mumbled something.

“I didn't get that,” said Nick.

“A ghost. He said he was attacked by a ghost.”

Nick smiled and shook her head. “Why does everything have to be such a drama with you? The man probably just bonked his head on a stalagtite.”

“Maybe, but if that skeleton turns out to be really ancient, wouldn't that stop the development?”

She reached down and began scratching vigorously at her ankles.

Nick looked thoughtful. “I suppose the skeleton will have to be investigated, but—why are you scratching yourself?”

“Because I itch?”

“Let me see.”

Roni swung her legs out from beneath the table, and both she and her mother gasped.

Her ankles were completely covered with tiny red bumps.

Brian sat in front of his computer, playing two games of speed chess at the same time. One guy he was playing called himself Dark King and lived in Germany. The other guy was from New York. His name was Jepper, whatever that meant. Brian called himself Bloodbath. He loved his name. He felt like it was strong and forceful and conveyed just the right amount of cruelty.

He had Jepper on the run, but Dark King was kicking his butt.

He heard the crunch of tires on gravel and looked out the window. It was his mom, driving her slightly battered BPD cruiser. Some kids might find it embarrassing to always have a police car in the driveway, but Brian liked it. He thought it was cool that his mom was a cop.

A few minutes later, his mom stopped outside his open door and knocked on the frame. She was always very respectful of his space.

“Playing chess again?” she said. “It's so nice outside.”

“Mom, I was outside all day long, tromping around in the woods.”

“Oh, right. How was your class?”

As soon as Brian made his next move, he saw that he would be checkmated in three moves. He resigned without waiting to see what Dark King would do next.

“It's fun. Roni's taking it, too.”

“Oh, Roni Delicata.”

He could hear the coolness in his mother's voice. Roni hadn't really started off on the right foot with his mom, what with getting Brian into more trouble than he was capable of getting himself into—which was a lot.

“Yeah. Today we went looking for skunk cabbage, but ended up finding a crazy guy, a dead guy and about a million bats.”

Mrs. Bain took a breath and let it out slowly.

“So that was you! I should have known!”

As a detective for the Bloodwater Police Department, she would already know all about the rescue.

“Yeah. Roni and I heard this guy yelling from inside a cave and—”

“And you just decided to go in after him? Brian, why didn't you just go for help? Caving is definitely not on my list of Approved Activities.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Brian said. “Things happened kind of fast. Just a sec. Let me polish off this Jepper guy.” He moved his queen, forcing Jepper to defend his king, then advanced his knight for checkmate. Jepper messaged him “good game” and signed off.

“I don't know how you kids can be so smart and so stupid all at the same time,” said Mrs. Bain.

“Me neither,” said Brian. “Have you heard if Dr. Dart—the guy from the cave—is going to be okay?”

“He's at Mercy Hospital. As far as I know, he's going to be fine.”

“What about the skeleton? Are you going to investigate?”

She sat down on the edge of his bed. “We spoke with the paramedics, Brian. They said they saw some old animal bones, that's all.”

“But there was a human skull!”

“A skull? Are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure!”

“Hmm. We may have to look into that. The archaeologists from the college will no doubt be interested.”

“Dr. Dart is an archaeologist!”

“Then I suppose he'll want to go right back into that cave when he recovers.”

“What about whoever hit Dr. Dart?”

“Hit him? What makes you say that?”

“He told me he was attacked. By a ghost.”

Mrs. Bain laughed and stood up. “Brian, the man was delirious. He was lost in that cave for hours. He could have caused his own injury in any number of ways.”

“Or he could really have been attacked.”

“Why would anyone want to attack him?”

“He told me he had enemies. He wants to stop that development from going in on Indian Bluff.”

Mrs. Bain shook her head, then started picking up dirty clothes off his floor. She was one of those people who always had to stay busy.

“We will certainly talk to him. Perhaps by tomorrow the man will start making sense. In the meantime, I don't want you spreading stories.”

“But you're going to investigate?”

“We will talk to Dr. Dart.”

She began to empty the pockets of Brian's cargo pants onto the bed: dead flashlight, magnifying glass, Swiss Army knife, copper wire, tape measure, candy wrappers, wallet and several other odds and ends—including the stone Dr. Dart had given him in the cave. Brian had forgotten all about it.

“I can't believe all the junk you carry around in your pockets,” she said, tossing the emptied pants onto the overflowing laundry basket. “I guess I'll do the wash.” She hefted the basket and went clomping down the stairs.

Brian rolled his chair over to the bed and looked at the stone. The pale, glassy-looking rock was about five inches long, leaf shaped, pointed at both ends, with two shallow notches near one of the points. Brian held it up to the light. The edges were scalloped like the edge of a bread knife, and very sharp. Brian scraped the edge across the back of his arm. It took the hair off like a razor blade.

This was no ordinary rock.

 

“Hey, Dad, do you know what this is?”

Bruce Bain, Brian's father, poked his head out from behind the towers of books weighing down his cluttered desk. Lately he had been working on a book about the mating behavior of legless South American amphibians, and his office was even messier than usual.

“Hello, son. What do you have there?”

“I think it might be an Indian arrowhead.”

“Indian? Are you referring to the people of India, or do you mean Native American?”

“Native American. What do you think?”

Mr. Bain put on his reading glasses and examined the stone. “A type of quartzite, I believe. Most definitely an artifact. Rather large for an arrowhead, I would say. Possibly a spear point. How did you come by it, son?”

“Somebody gave it to me. How old do you think it is?”

Mr. Bain unfolded his long, lanky body and reached up to the top shelf of the bookcase behind his desk—one of several bookcases lining the walls of the room. He pulled down an enormous leather-clad volume titled
Projectile Points of the Great Lakes Region.

“Here you go, son,” he said, handing the book to Brian, who staggered under its weight.

As Brian lugged the huge book back to his bedroom, he ran into his mother.

“My goodness, what do you have there?”

“I asked Dad one simple question and he gave me a week's worth of reading.”

Dr. Andrew Dart knew he wasn't thinking clearly. Something had happened to his head. The room swam in and out of view. Most of the time he knew he was in a hospital, but sometimes he found himself back in the cave.

The cave! The cave was the answer. The cave had everything he needed to stop the bulldozers. He would be a hero!

A face swam into view. Yellow bone. Empty eye sockets. Gaping jaw.

The jawbone was moving in the face, up and down, like in a cartoon, then started talking. “You awakened me, white man.”

“I'm sorry,” said Dart. “It was an accident. But we need you now. Only you can save the land.”

“You are all fools, white man. Mad, destructive fools.”

“I know,” said Dart. “Believe me, I know!”

 

“Is Andrew Dart on this ward?” Jillian Greystone asked the nurse on 3B.

“Yes he is, but I'm not sure he's up for company.”

“I'm his . . . fiancée. Is it okay if I just peek in on him?”

The nurse hardly looked up from her work. “I think that would be fine. But if he's sleeping, don't wake him up. You'll find him in room 313.”

Jillian squared her shoulders. She was afraid he wouldn't want to see her—not after their last conversation. But she had to see him. As for being Andrew's fiancée . . . it wasn't true. Not anymore.