across the sandy parking lot. I took
off towards the garage and spotted another structure behind it that I hadn’t
noticed on the way in. The long one-story building looked as if it might once
have been a stable. There were piles of rubble everywhere, including the
remains of several other dwellings with only the stone chimneys standing. Had
there been a whole community here at one time?
As I wandered among the glass and trash-strewn
foundations, the significance of the piles of blackened timber and charred
remnants of furniture penetrated fully. I ran my finger along what looked like
the remains of a mangled steel window frame and it came away blackened with the
sooty evidence that there’d been a fire here and it appeared to have been
fairly recent.
The deep silence surrounding the whole place was
disturbed only by the moan of the incessant wind. I doubled back towards the
garage and followed a pair of rolling tumbleweeds into the three-sided
structure. There had been a fourth wall at one time, but it lay to one side,
collapsed into a heap like giant dry matchsticks. Inside, against one wall,
cardboard boxes of all sizes and shapes were piled high. I stepped closer to
investigate but froze in my tracks when a terse voice behind me ordered, “Stop
right there and turn around real slow!” Cha-chunk! The unmistakable sound of
a shell being chambered turned my insides to mush.
Hardly daring to breathe, I did as the voice bid and
found myself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. To my amazement, the bearer
of the weapon was a pint-sized woman wearing a grimy ball-cap turned backwards
over a haystack of graying blonde hair. Well, who was this? My voice seemed
to have deserted me as I gawked down at her, dumbstruck by her odd appearance.
I had a height advantage of a least a foot, and the situation might have been
comical except the deadly expression in her hazel eyes told me that she meant
business.
“I’ve warned you people about trespassing on church
property,” she growled, aiming the gun right at my nose, “and I damn well meant
it.”
My muscles tensed when she waved the barrel within
inches of my face. Jesus, she had her finger on the trigger. Better say
something, I urged my frozen vocal chords. “Ma’am, if you’ll let me explain….”
“Shut
up!” Her sardonic grin revealed a row of uneven yellowed teeth. “Back to
finish the job, huh? Very clever sending a woman in plain clothes instead of
the usual assortment of thugs. But you’re not fooling me. I know who you
really are.”
I
swallowed the lump of fear clogging my throat. “Who do you think I am?”
“Sister Goldenrod! What are you doing?” Lupe’s sharp
inquiry and the thud of running footsteps sent a wave of relief pouring through
me. Sister Goldenrod? Not exactly the way I’d pictured her. My brother Pat
would have pronounced her facially challenged, but for me, the combination of
her irregular horse-like features and pudgy body rekindled memories of my
childhood toy Mrs. Potato Head.
The
woman’s gaze flickered to Lupe as she sprinted into the garage, and then swung
back to me. “I caught another one of these damn undercover Border Patrol
agents snooping around here again.” She shoved the barrel against my right
shoulder. “I ought to wing her just to make my point.”
Wide-eyed
with fright, Lupe gasped out, “No, wait! This is Kendall O’Dell. She is my
boss. She’s here to help me find my brother and my uncle.”
The
woman’s bushy charcoal brows, badly in need of plucking, dipped lower. “What
do you mean she’s your boss?”
“She’s
the editor. You know, from the newspaper where I work.”
The
woman fired her a look of outrage. “Are you nuts? You brought a goddamned
reporter with you?” She grabbed Lupe by the arm and shoved her out the door,
snarling back at me, “You! Don’t move an inch!” Walking with an odd crab-like
gait
off towards the garage and spotted another structure behind it that I hadn’t
noticed on the way in. The long one-story building looked as if it might once
have been a stable. There were piles of rubble everywhere, including the
remains of several other dwellings with only the stone chimneys standing. Had
there been a whole community here at one time?
As I wandered among the glass and trash-strewn
foundations, the significance of the piles of blackened timber and charred
remnants of furniture penetrated fully. I ran my finger along what looked like
the remains of a mangled steel window frame and it came away blackened with the
sooty evidence that there’d been a fire here and it appeared to have been
fairly recent.
The deep silence surrounding the whole place was
disturbed only by the moan of the incessant wind. I doubled back towards the
garage and followed a pair of rolling tumbleweeds into the three-sided
structure. There had been a fourth wall at one time, but it lay to one side,
collapsed into a heap like giant dry matchsticks. Inside, against one wall,
cardboard boxes of all sizes and shapes were piled high. I stepped closer to
investigate but froze in my tracks when a terse voice behind me ordered, “Stop
right there and turn around real slow!” Cha-chunk! The unmistakable sound of
a shell being chambered turned my insides to mush.
Hardly daring to breathe, I did as the voice bid and
found myself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. To my amazement, the bearer
of the weapon was a pint-sized woman wearing a grimy ball-cap turned backwards
over a haystack of graying blonde hair. Well, who was this? My voice seemed
to have deserted me as I gawked down at her, dumbstruck by her odd appearance.
I had a height advantage of a least a foot, and the situation might have been
comical except the deadly expression in her hazel eyes told me that she meant
business.
“I’ve warned you people about trespassing on church
property,” she growled, aiming the gun right at my nose, “and I damn well meant
it.”
My muscles tensed when she waved the barrel within
inches of my face. Jesus, she had her finger on the trigger. Better say
something, I urged my frozen vocal chords. “Ma’am, if you’ll let me explain….”
“Shut
up!” Her sardonic grin revealed a row of uneven yellowed teeth. “Back to
finish the job, huh? Very clever sending a woman in plain clothes instead of
the usual assortment of thugs. But you’re not fooling me. I know who you
really are.”
I
swallowed the lump of fear clogging my throat. “Who do you think I am?”
“Sister Goldenrod! What are you doing?” Lupe’s sharp
inquiry and the thud of running footsteps sent a wave of relief pouring through
me. Sister Goldenrod? Not exactly the way I’d pictured her. My brother Pat
would have pronounced her facially challenged, but for me, the combination of
her irregular horse-like features and pudgy body rekindled memories of my
childhood toy Mrs. Potato Head.
The
woman’s gaze flickered to Lupe as she sprinted into the garage, and then swung
back to me. “I caught another one of these damn undercover Border Patrol
agents snooping around here again.” She shoved the barrel against my right
shoulder. “I ought to wing her just to make my point.”
Wide-eyed
with fright, Lupe gasped out, “No, wait! This is Kendall O’Dell. She is my
boss. She’s here to help me find my brother and my uncle.”
The
woman’s bushy charcoal brows, badly in need of plucking, dipped lower. “What
do you mean she’s your boss?”
“She’s
the editor. You know, from the newspaper where I work.”
The
woman fired her a look of outrage. “Are you nuts? You brought a goddamned
reporter with you?” She grabbed Lupe by the arm and shoved her out the door,
snarling back at me, “You! Don’t move an inch!” Walking with an odd crab-like
gait
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