The Amber Brooch: Time Travel Romance (The Celtic Brooch Book 8) Read online

Page 5


  He texted the additional info to David. Then Connor asked, “Does she go to the mine regularly?”

  “She’s hunted fossils on every inch of the property. Although she doesn’t believe she’ll find any, she can’t stay away. She’ll sit on a rock at the highest point and stare at the mountains as though she’s waiting for them to speak to her.”

  “You said no one has been in the mine for years. She wouldn’t decide to check it out on her own, would she?”

  Olivia shook her head. “Never.”

  “Not even if the weather turned bad while she was there?”

  She stooped to pick up Amber’s tools and repacked them. “She’d come back to the cabin. But wherever she went, she’d never leave her tools behind. Look at this mess. When it comes to her gear, she’s pickier than I am about my shoes.” Olivia zipped the backpack and hugged it to her chest. “Something is wrong with Amber.” Olivia glanced up at Connor. “We’ve got to find her.”

  The clues—a box, a sudden disappearance, a peat smell—were leading him toward a conclusion that didn’t require leaps in logic, that wasn’t at all farfetched, and one that no member of the MacKlenna Clan wanted to hear right now.

  “Let’s go to the mine,” he said. “How far away is it?”

  “Did you see the log steps in the back?”

  “Yeah. Do they lead down to the mine?”

  “It’s the most direct route, but if you have supplies to move from the mine to the cabin, you can take a mule along the path that winds its way down there. It’s twice as long though.”

  “Why didn’t they build the cabin closer to the mine?”

  “There’s a foundation for a one-room cabin. Either my ancestors originally lived there, or the miners did. But this is such a beautiful spot. It’s easy to see why they built a larger cabin here.” She stood and hung Amber’s backpack on a pegboard near the door. “I need to tell the sheriff what’s going on.”

  Bringing the sheriff in on this situation could be a disaster, much like what happened to Amy Spalding’s boyfriend last year. But Connor couldn’t tell Olivia not to call the sheriff when it would give her peace of mind, which was more than he could do.

  “Let’s go to the mine and search Amber’s usual haunts,” he said. “At least we can tell the sheriff we looked for her. It will take him a few hours to round up a search party and get here.”

  “I disagree. Waiting will only delay him. We need to notify him now. He could be up here with a search team by the time we look around the mine entrance and surrounding property.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Sheriff Joshua Hall,” she said.

  Connor did a Google search for the sheriff’s phone number and placed the call. The sheriff answered, and after introducing himself and explaining the situation, Connor put the call on speaker and asked, “Do you have a search team who can come up here?”

  The sheriff was silent for a moment before asking, “How well do you know Amber?”

  “I’ve never met her. I’m here with her sister Olivia.”

  “So Olivia didn’t tell you her sister has disappeared before and always comes home?”

  Connor scowled at Olivia. Then to the sheriff he said, “The past is not prologue, Sheriff.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Just because Amber has disappeared in the past and returned home safely doesn’t mean it will happen this time. The outcome could be quite different. This disappearance has to be treated as the first time.”

  “Detective O’Grady, once or maybe twice, I could go with your theory”—incredulity laced the sheriff’s deep voice—“but Amber has a lifetime history of this.”

  Olivia glanced at the floor, hugging herself.

  “I had ten people up there last year,” the sheriff continued. “We searched hundreds of acres. Finally, she came home on her own. Two years before that, we searched for a day and a half before she came back. She’s disappeared a dozen times that I know of. She comes home with a big bag of fossils and apologizes for upsetting her family.” He paused a moment before continuing, and Connor shot an even darker glance at Olivia. “The weather forecast is calling for rain tomorrow and the next day. As soon as it lets up, I’ll bring a search team up there.”

  Connor was livid. He’d never met a law enforcement officer who refused to help. The sheriff was dishing up a side of vindictiveness for all the times he’d come up to search for Amber, only to have her come back on her own.

  Connor punched the disconnect button and counted to ten to control his anger at the sheriff, and another ten to control his anger at Olivia. When he was reasonably calm, he asked, “Why in the hell didn’t you tell me Amber had a history of disappearing?”

  “Because it doesn’t matter,” Olivia said sharply. “Just because she’s never been in danger before doesn’t mean she’s not this time. Isn’t that what you just told the sheriff?”

  He sat on the edge of the couch and looked her in the eye. “You should have told me.”

  She squared off with him as a visible display of emotion tightened her face. It wasn’t confined to a lift of an eyebrow or barely visible frown. This was a full-blown, teeth-baring explosion. “You insisted on coming up here. I didn’t trick you. My sister is missing, and I’m worried as hell. If you don’t believe she’s in trouble, you can ride down that damn mountain and drive her truck back to Denver.”

  Connor bristled. He had never heard her cuss. Not even when she broke a fingernail, or got locked out of her car, or had a piece of property sold out from under her. He modulated the tone of his voice. “I can’t do this job without all the facts. You stand to make over a million dollars in commission when the MacKlenna Corporation buys a ranch. Why lie to me and risk that? Be honest with me, Olivia.”

  “I find that insulting. Do you think I care about a commission when my sister’s life might be in danger?”

  “This isn’t about a commission. This is about lying. And you lied to me.”

  “I didn’t lie to you.”

  He iced her with a cool gaze. “Lies of omission are still lies. I’ve been in law enforcement most of my life. I take all disappearances seriously. What else aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing. If you want to help, you have to believe me.” It was said softly, but there was an ultimatum in her statement. If he wasn’t going to believe her, he needed to get the hell out. She looked down at her hands, which were turning red from all the twisting and rubbing she was doing.

  His cell phone rang, and the display flashed David’s name and number. “O’Grady.” He elbowed his way through their anger, zinging in the air like charged molecules before a rainstorm, and hurried out to the porch to speak privately.

  “I confirmed the box is identical to Kenzie’s,” David said. “I thought as much but wanted to compare yer picture to her puzzle box.”

  “What’s your gut telling you?” Connor asked.

  “Another brooch has shown up. Let’s keep this between us for now. I need a few hours to dig into Amber’s background. What’s the situation there?”

  “Amber has a history of wandering off. The sheriff has searched for her several times, but she always comes home on her own. He refuses to come up here today.”

  “It’s his job. What’s his excuse?” David asked.

  “An approaching storm.”

  “That’s even more reason to get up there and look for her.”

  “Are you playing devil’s advocate?”

  “He’s a professional,” David said. “The sheriff needs to do his job. But personally, I’d rather he stayed away. We don’t need him up there looking for someone he’ll never find.” David was quiet for a moment. Then, “What does Amber tell her family when she comes home?”

  “That she’s been fossil hunting.”

  “Maybe she’s been traveling for years. Did ye think of that?”

  “I did, but she wouldn’t have left the evidence on the floor. She would have put the box back
and returned the cap to the breast beam. Olivia claims she’s never seen the box. As close as the sisters are, they would have shared the secret.”

  “Maybe she did, and Olivia has always stayed behind to cover for Amber. Let me talk to Elliott. I’ll call ye back.”

  Connor stood there for a few minutes, watching dark clouds chase away the sun. Was it possible Amber found a brooch years ago and this wasn’t her first trip to the past? No. He shook his head as if answering someone else’s question. His logical mind wouldn’t let him believe Amber was an experienced time traveler. His gut told him she was whisked away unprepared.

  Olivia joined him on the porch. “I have to put the horses up. If you’re going back down the mountain, you should go now.”

  He turned her to face him and tipped her chin with his finger, so she couldn’t avoid eye contact. “I know you’re worried, but I don’t appreciate being lied to. I’m here to help, so let’s play from the same sheet of music. Where do you want to search first?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Dammit.” He took a step back and drew a deep breath. He had to control his voice and not use his detective’s tone, meant to intimidate. “If I wasn’t, I’d tell you. I don’t play games, Olivia.”

  She burrowed her hands beneath the folds of her shirt to either keep from smacking or hugging him. He didn’t know. And the intense look in her eyes didn’t give any hint of what she was thinking. A beat or two passed between them before she took a step toward him, her hand raised slightly, to touch his arm in an expression of reconciliation.

  “I’m sorry I lied. I should have been honest with you, but I was afraid you’d take the same position as the sheriff, and I really wanted you to come with me.”

  He couldn’t keep from responding to her, and so he did what he probably shouldn’t do and kissed her forehead, letting his lips linger there if only for a moment. To him, the kiss said it all; he wanted to be there, he wanted to help, he wanted to protect her, and he expected honesty.

  “I’m here,” he said softly against her skin. “Since I won’t be riding down the mountain, we should put the horses up.”

  “Let’s start with that, then see what the weather does. Black clouds are rolling in and thunder is rumbling in the distance. I don’t mind the rain, but thunder and lightning scare my horse”—Olivia kicked at clods of dirt on the porch—“and me, too.”

  Until today, she’d seemed invincible to him—polished and professional. Now he knew the truth. Her Kryptonite was her sister and a little bit of thunder and lightning.

  “Do storms bother Amber?”

  “She and her horse are friendly herd mates during a storm. Not much scares her. You could pick her up and drop her anywhere and she’d acclimate seamlessly. I don’t get how we could have been raised the same yet act so differently in situations. She could have lived happily in this cabin in the 1800s. Not me. I like my creature comforts.”

  “Why do you come up here then?”

  “I love the solitude. I love the mountains. I love the fresh air. But after a couple of days, I get antsy. I don’t like being isolated from the world.”

  “So you miss electricity.”

  “And hot showers.” She headed back inside. “Let me grab ponchos so we won’t get soaked.” He followed her inside where she snatched two ponchos off the pegboard and handed one to him. “This is oilskin-treated waterproof cotton. You won’t get wet.”

  “I don’t mind rain, and thunder and lightning don’t scare me.”

  “Good to know,” she said.

  He removed his hat and slipped on the poncho, then left the cabin, canting the cowboy hat back onto his head.

  After the horses were happily munching their oats, Olivia and Connor began their descent down the mountain toward the mine. Each step of the staircase was made from the flat side of half a log. They were old and narrow, and the corners were time-worn, but they were sturdy, solidly built.

  “I really am sorry I didn’t tell you about Amber. I get so upset when she does this, and I sort of wig out. I can’t help it. She’s my little sister and my responsibility.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “She’s an adult and a successful lawyer. She’s not your responsibility.”

  Olivia continued climbing down the steps. “Saying she’s not doesn’t change what I believe. When I was six, she wandered away for the first time—”

  “So, going missing isn’t an adult pattern of behavior? It’s a lifetime pattern.”

  “But she’s never missed work or an obligation before. This time is different.”

  “Where did she go the first time?”

  “We were playing while Dad and Granddaddy were cutting wood to shore up the mine shaft. Amber vanished. I panicked and screamed. Dad found her minutes later. She was sitting on the floor of the mine stacking rocks. She was oblivious to the danger. I got reamed out. She got hugs and kisses. What does that tell you?”

  “That the punishment and rewards should have been reversed. But I can see how that experience would make an impression on a six-year-old.”

  They reached the bottom step. Directly ahead loomed the towering A-shaped timbers of the main headframe. It was buttressed with a large beam. Painted on the beam were the words—PRIVATE PROPERTY KEEP OUT.

  “That’s it?” he asked, pointing. “A bunch of boards that say keep out? I don’t see much to explore.”

  “In the 1870s there was a saw mill, cabin, office, quarters for the miners, and a kitchen of sorts. It was a big operation. You can see the foundations for some of the structures, but that’s about it. Unlike other mine sites, the family cleaned this one up decades ago and properly disposed of old equipment and ore bins.”

  “I don’t get why Amber would come down here,” he said.

  Olivia pointed off to the right. “See that boulder up there? That’s where she likes to sit and look at the rugged foothills of the Rockies and sketch what she imagines the land looked like millions of years ago. The landscape we see today is largely the product of uplift and erosion over the last eighteen million years. She’s got a notebook with sketches that illustrate the geologic evolution of Colorado.”

  “And dinosaur bones,” he added.

  “She’s dug all over the state and continues to find fossils.”

  “Just Colorado.”

  “Her focus is only on Colorado now. When she was in college, she participated in digs all around the United States, Africa, Asia, and Europe.”

  Connor glanced around the mine site. “How does she get to the boulder?”

  “It’s pretty easy to reach. Come on. I’ll show you.”

  They took a path through the forest, climbing up the other side of the mine property, through irregular tree growth and a waterfall, until the landscape leveled off. They walked out onto the top of a flat boulder where he leaned against a jagged finger of a rock, nearly twice his height. It stood sentinel at the ridgeline.

  “This is it. Amber’s perch,” Olivia said.

  “I can see why she comes up here. Even on an overcast day, the view is spectacular.” He looked down, far down. “It’s higher than it seemed.”

  “I don’t have a fear of heights, but I don’t like it up here. Amber was forbidden to come up, but when Dad and Granddaddy realized they couldn’t stop her, they taught her how to do it safely. Let’s go. It makes me nervous.”

  “Is there any other path to take, or any other place she’d go to from here?”

  “She forges her own path.”

  “How come I’m not surprised?” Connor cupped his hands at the sides of his mouth and yelled, “Amber.” Her name echoed, bouncing off the surrounding mountain ridge. “Amber.” He wasn’t sure what to expect, but the haunting silence wasn’t among his expectations. After a long moment, they turned and walked back through the woods, to the patter of a light rain falling on the dead leaves in their path.

  “Where else do you want to look?” he asked.


  Olivia glanced at him, an expression of grim determination on her flushed cheeks, so unlike her usual warm, approachable smile. “There’s a cave about a quarter mile from here. It’s a bit of a hike, but since it’s going to rain, we’ll have to wait.”

  He was aware of her standing close. Not touching him in any way. Yet he felt her fingertips on his skin, imagined her lips against his. “I don’t mind the rain.”

  “It’s too dangerous. I recommend we go back to the cabin.”

  They climbed back up the steps. By the time they reached the top, the first large raindrops pattered into the dirt, spreading to the size of silver dollars, and sending up explosions of dust and yard debris. Within moments, the rain blew into the clearing in force, coming down in thick, cold sheets like a wide moving wet wall.

  The poncho kept his upper body dry, but dampness crawled up his legs and soaked the heavy cotton that clung to his skin. Rivulets ran off his hat brim and mingled with the droplets that fell from the darkening sky, slapping his face and chilling the back of his neck.

  As they reached the porch, a bolt of lightning crackled, electrifying the air and ripping apart the sky. The lightning was followed closely by a deep rumble of thunder. He shook the rain from his poncho and hat, then wiped sweat and wet from his face with a handkerchief.

  She removed her poncho, shook off the rain, then entered the cabin, glancing around the room again. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she returned the poncho to the hook before peeling off her riding gloves one finger at a time.

  “If you start a fire, I’ll fix a late lunch.” She glanced at him. “Look at you. You’re soaked. I’m so sorry. We should be walking around a beautiful ranch right now. Instead, you’re stuck in a hundred-year-old cabin.” She slapped the soaked gloves down on a table near the door. Wet leather met wood, sounding like a hand smacking skin. “This isn’t what you planned for the day.”