Peril by Ponytail (A Bad Hair Day Mystery) (30 page)

“How do we find where they’re taking the cage to the surface?” Pete asked Dalton in a hushed tone.

The whites of Dalton’s eyes shone in the faint light from the mining site. “We’re more interested in the ore carts, but I suppose either way topside will serve our purpose. Can you snap some photos from here?”

“I think so.” Pete got out his camera and went to work. After taking numerous shots from their safe vantage point, he stuffed the camera into his backpack. “We’ll have to return for these later. This camera is too bulky to hide on my person. I have a smaller one in my pants pocket.”

“Marla, you could return the way we came and take our packs out. This part will be dangerous. There’s no need for you to risk exposure.”

“Oh, and creeping through these tunnels on my own wouldn’t be risky? No, thanks. I’ve come this far. You’re not going to lose me now.”

“Well then, pretend as though you know what you’re doing,” Dalton advised as they moved forward.

Marla slinked into the open beside the men, picking up her pace as they passed through the chamber where workmen were drilling into the rock face.

Keeping her head bent, she entered a tunnel where a group of laborers headed. Some of them carried lunch pails. Others hauled tools or mobile machinery. They jabbered in Spanish, making her heart thud in fear someone would speak to her. Maybe Pete spoke the language. She should have asked him.

Tracking the ore proved to be an impossible task. The chunks of rock got shoved down a chute to carts lined up on a track below. This rail followed a different route to the surface than the workers, and Dalton couldn’t find a way to access it. A big sign on a wall saying
To the Exit
pointed them in another direction. At least they could ascend to the surface via the cage.

They slipped into the line of men waiting for their turn, crowding into the steel cage at the last minute and facing forward. A bell sounded, and the cage jerked upward. It rattled and shook, and Marla resisted the urge to clutch Dalton’s arm for security. She stood rigid, barely breathing, hoping no one would address them. The other guys joked and laughed, while she counted the minutes as they crept upward at a slow but steady pace.

Finally, they reached the top and gathered outside with the others. The sudden cool air and fresh breeze on her skin came as a shock, as did the darkening sky. Had they been down there that long?

The miners formed a column and headed toward a shack that must serve as their changing shed. According to her research, that’s where they switched into street clothes and then handed in the numbered tag given them at the beginning of each shift. In the event of an accident, this piece of metal would identify them like a military dog tag.

Uh-oh. Neither she nor the guys had metal necklaces around their necks.

The man behind them said something in Spanish. A glance over her shoulder told her he was staring at the back of her head. With a jolt of alarm, Marla realized her helmet must be ajar. She straightened it, while others removed their cumbersome headgear. Her ponytail had slipped down, but that shouldn’t mean anything. Lots of these guys probably tied their longish hair back.

“People are looking at you,” Dalton muttered to her.

“I think it’s my ponytail. Why should that matter?”

“Because your hair has highlights. I told you not to change your color.”

She’d gotten tired of the plain chestnut and had added subtle tones of bronze. Was that why she was inadvertently drawing attention? Or did they note her smaller build?

“We need to make a break for it,” the deputy said in an undertone. “When we get near the shed, duck around the side of that building.”

As the ragtag bunch of laborers approached the shed, the three of them hung back. They slipped around the structure’s side before the foreman could notice them.

Rolling hills led downhill to their left, while a mountain towered to their right. She spied a ramshackle group of buildings in the near distance. Were those barracks where the workmen lived, housed on the mining company’s property?

For the first time since emerging, she studied their bearings. Otto Lovelace’s water bottling plant rose directly above them, but they appeared to have come out on the other side by the subsidiary facility. And from this angle, that structure looked downright old. It might have been the original smelting mill.

Dalton followed the direction of her glance. “Am I seeing correctly, or are those ore carts up there?”

Pete got out his smaller camera and peered through the lens. “The ore is being tipped onto a conveyor belt that leads into the facility. I’ll need to get closer for some good shots.”

“What do you want to bet Lovelace is behind the mining operation, and he’s reopened the refinery?” Dalton said. “A water bottling plant would be the perfect cover.”

“Now we’ll be able to get a warrant to check out the place.” Pete gave him an approving grin.

At the instant the last word left his lips, a shot rang out. The deputy toppled over, his camera thumping to the ground. A red stain appeared beneath him, widening in the dirt.

A guard appeared from behind a set of trees, his rifle aimed at them. “Put your hands in the air where I can see them and don’t move.”

His partner stepped forward and kicked Pete, who lay face down and motionless. Marla’s gut clenched in horror. Had Pete just been killed? No, that wasn’t possible.

Her heart racing, she raised her arms. What would happen now?

The first guard radioed ahead. “The boss says to bring these two to his house. He’s about to eat dinner, and he doesn’t care to have his precious schedule upset. Dumb prick. If he didn’t pay so well, I’d tell him where to go. Take off your gear first,” he ordered her and Dalton. “We can always use extras.”

“What about this guy?” said his partner, indicating Pete’s still form.

“Leave him. We can hide his body later.”

She and Dalton handed over their helmets and lanterns and stripped off their coveralls. Marla had a moment’s foolhardy urge to swing the sledgehammer but gave it up without protest. Under the guard’s scrutiny, she felt exposed in her long-sleeved shirt, belted jeans, and boots. At least she was still alive, unlike poor Pete. A sob rose in her throat, but she choked it down.

“Move that way,” the first man said, waving his weapon for emphasis.

Marla raised her spirits by telling herself Annie would call for help once they’d failed to check in at the allotted time. Or maybe Luke Beresby would call his deputy for a report, and getting no answer, he’d send backup. But how would either of them know where Marla and Dalton had gone?

They passed a gnarled cholla bush, and she had a fleeting thought to shove the guard into its densely packed spines. But there were two of them, and while Dalton could probably handle the other guy, he had a rifle trained on their backs.

She bit her lower lip, her progress slow around the rocks in their path. They had to pick their footing carefully. What would Otto do to them? Shoot them on the spot? Stake them out in the desert where scorpions could sting them? Or toss them over a mountain ridge like he might have done to Garrett Long, when the ranger discovered his operation?

Otto must have just begun dinner when they were shoved into his presence, because he sat at his long formal dining room table, a napkin tucked under his double chin. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly upon viewing them.

“I’ve had extra place settings added,” he said with a broad gesture. “You may be seated.” To the guards, he added, “Leave us and close the door, but stand duty outside.”

The balcony doors lay open, letting in the fresh evening air. A breeze cooled the sweat on her brow as she lowered herself into a dining room chair opposite Dalton. Her husband gave her a reassuring nod before smiling pleasantly at their captor.

“Nice to see you again, Lovelace. It’s kind of you to invite us for dinner.”

“I figured you could join me for your last meal. Enjoy the shrimp with pomegranate.” He snapped his fingers, and a man in a white apron bustled in and served their starter course. Four shrimp rested on a bed of lettuce dotted with colorful red fruits. Tempting cheese crisps bordered the dish.

Marla’s throat constricted. She couldn’t possibly eat a single bite, but her dry mouth begged for relief. She reached for the glass of clear water and gulped down several swallows.

At least they hadn’t been searched. Dalton still had a gun tucked inside his boot.

Her glance flicked toward the night-lit balcony. It led to a steep drop off the mountainside. They wouldn’t find an escape route that way.

Lovelace made quick work of cleaning his plate except for the lettuce garnish. Putting down his utensil, he gave each of them a penetrating glare. “My guards picked you up outside the changing shed. They said you were dressed like mine workers. Where did you come from? Our perimeter alarms didn’t detect you in the forest. And who was that other fellow with you?”

“We entered the mine via another route and met up with your work crew underground.” Dalton speared a shrimp into his mouth and chewed. “We’re aware of your entire operation. The bottling plant acts as a front for your stamping mill. That other man, who your goons killed without giving him a chance, was a deputy with the sheriff’s office. When he fails to report in, backup will arrive. Luke Beresby knows all about your schemes.”

Leave it to him to eat despite their perilous circumstances. Too nervous to contribute to the conversation, Marla gripped her fork and pushed the food around on her plate.

Otto gave a sinister chuckle. “No one will think to look for you here. And your friend’s body will be long gone by the time the authorities arrive. The good sheriff won’t be able to pin anything on me.”

Marla forced a calm she didn’t feel. “Demand for copper today is high, especially in the electronics industry. But I’ll bet the demand for rare earth minerals is more. Is that why you reopened the mine?” she said in an effort to gain some answers.

“I see you’ve been doing your homework. Those elements are essential to technology. So far, we’re the only domestic mine producing them, although other locations around the world are being scouted. The minerals are embedded in the rock along with copper deposits.”

“But China is the main supplier, isn’t it?” Suddenly recalling what she’d read, she felt her face drain of color. Good heavens, could the Chinese connection be real?

“Indeed. Although they control only thirty-six percent or so of known global reserves, China produces ninety-five percent of the rare earths used worldwide due to their low labor costs, abundant supply, and lax regulations.” Otto glanced at his watch while Dalton took his time finishing the appetizer.

Was her husband purposefully trying to throw Lovelace off schedule?

“Speaking of environmental issues, I assume you opened for business without going through the proper hoops.” Dalton made it a statement rather than a question.

“Those channels would have taken valuable time that I couldn’t afford to lose.” Otto’s brows drew together, but he refrained from speaking further until the waiter removed their starter plates and delivered the entrée, a juicy filet mignon.

The aroma of roasted beef drifted into Marla’s nose, but the food failed to tempt her. Aware of the armed guards beyond the doors, she couldn’t touch a morsel.

“Try the meat,” Otto said, lifting his fork. “Its sundried tomato butter sauce is divine. The side dishes are creamed Brussels sprouts and wild mushroom bread pudding, just like my grandmother used to make back in Prague.”

Marla exchanged glances with Dalton. Could one of them secrete a knife without Otto noticing? She cut her filet into little pieces and then slipped the implement under her napkin.

Dalton distracted him. “Aside from ignoring government regulations, you don’t own mineral rights to the mine, I presume?”

“That is correct. But other than you people, nobody has detected my operation. Well, let’s not count that pesky ranger. You know what they say.” He snickered before stuffing a vegetable into his mouth. “Time is money. I’m saving both by keeping production costs down and doing things my way.”

“And who would suspect your water bottling plant of hiding another facility?”

“It’s a brilliant deception on my part, is it not? Ore processing requires generous quantities of water. By leasing my water supply from the town legally, I’ve covered that base.”

“But Garrett Long wasn’t fooled, was he?”

“The ranger felt the vibrations from our underground blasting. When he came poking around, I knew it wouldn’t be long before he discovered our labor camp. Then he ran into one of our associates from abroad. That proved to be an unfortunate occurrence for him.”

“Your miners are illegal immigrants brought in as indentured labor, aren’t they?” Marla blurted. “And you house them on your property so no one else ever sees them?”

“You’re very astute, Mrs. Vail. Too much for your own good.”

More questions sprang to Marla’s tongue, but she deferred to Dalton. They needed to eat slowly, so Otto didn’t call in his guards to remove them. She stuck a forkful of soft bread pudding into her mouth, afraid if she ate a piece of meat, she’d choke on it.

Otto sipped from a glass of red wine, but he didn’t offer them any. The server must have had radar, because he rushed to refill Otto’s glass as soon as he’d drained it. Maybe they had surveillance cameras trained on the table that the kitchen staff watched to cue their moves.

“You said the smelting process requires a large amount of water,” she ventured. “Are you by any chance taking more than your share? The ranchers downstream have complained about drought and sick cattle.”

“Huh. No one has figured out that I diverted the stream.”

“We thought it went underground somewhere along the route.”

“You and nearly everyone else.”

“What about the sick cows? Are those steam emissions from your operation really harmless?”

He peered at her down his nose. “That’s not steam, madam. We’ve gone to great pains to make it look that way. Unfortunately, particular matter from the smelting mill escapes into the atmosphere. If it blows downwind and settles, that could be the cause of the ranchers’ problems. However, I’m more concerned about your uncle’s renovation project. It’s forced the closure of several mine shafts and made some of our tunnels unstable. He has to stop construction.”