skid.
“What about pegmatite?”
“What’s that?”
He gave her a sideways smile. “Oh, it’s kind of like granite. It comes in dikes and intrusions—veins, to the prospector. There’s another thing about pegmatite,” he added. “Without it, there’s no tourmaline.”
“I’m beginning to love pegmatite.”
“Thought you would.”
“Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“The pegmatite.”
“We’re probably driving over masses of the stuff right now.”
Reba looked out the window at the countryside dropping away steeply. “Looks like dirt to me.”
“Underneath the dirt.”
“But where?”
Chance laughed. “If I knew that, I’d stake out a claim myself. All I know is that the Pala area of San Diego County”—he waved a hand to indicate the surrounding land—“is riddled with pegmatite, and that in some of those crumbling dikes and sills are crystals of rubellite—tourmaline to you—that have an absolutely unique color. There is nothing like Pala’s pink tourmaline anywhere else on earth.”
“You know a lot about it,” she said, remembering his accurate assessment of the Chinese tear bottle. “Its history, geology, value. Everything.”
For an instant Chance looked as hard as the land. Then he said casually, “Pala’s tourmaline is world famous. Any gem gouger worth the name knows about it.”
Before Reba could say anything else, the Toyota came around the shoulder of a hill. Ahead of them lay the rough turnaround someone had bulldozed out at the road’s end just in front of the mine. The China Queen’s entrance was little more than a ragged hole at the base of a steep ridge. But it wasn’t the mine that caught Reba’s attention, it was the battered pickup truck parked in the turnaround.
Someone was already inside the China Queen.
----
C hance sent the Toyota into a skidding turn that didn’t end until they were facing back the way they had come. He set the brake but kept the engine on. With one hand he yanked free the cargo net that had kept everything in place while the vehicle jolted over the rough terrain. He opened a large, heavy tool chest and pulled out a pump shotgun. The barrel was long enough to be legal but too short for hunting game. Chance handled the weapon as easily as he had handled the Toyota. He flipped off the shotgun’s safety and pumped a shell into the firing chamber. The sound was metallic, chilling.
“You know how to use this, don’t you?” he asked calmly, holding out the shotgun to her.
Reba shook her head, drawing back. “No.”
“ Damn . City wise and country innocent.” He checked the China Queen’s entrance quickly in the rearview mirror. There was no one in sight around the mine. “If I’m not back in fifteen minutes—or if you see something coming out of the mine that you don’t like—drive as far as you can and then hike out to the highway. There’s a small ranch about a mile east of the mine turnoff. You can call Tim from there.”
“Can’t we just call the sheriff?”
“The sheriff doesn’t own the China Queen.”
Chance was out of the Toyota before Reba could argue. He took the shotgun with him. The pickup was only a few steps from the Toyota’s rear bumper, and the mine entrance only a few feet beyond the truck. Chance reached through the truck’s open window, pulled out the keys that had been left in the ignition and stuffed them in his pocket. If Reba had to drive out, no one would be able to follow her but Chance.
She checked her watch, then checked it again. It hadn’t stopped, it just was keeping time in slow motion while her heart raced.
She looked in the rearview mirror. Chance had vanished into the black mouth of the China Queen. The Toyota vibrated slightly beneath her feet, idling easily. She unfastened her seatbelt and moved over to the driver’s seat. She glanced at her watch again. One minute and thirty-seven seconds. With a small sound of impatience and protest, she watched the second hand
“What about pegmatite?”
“What’s that?”
He gave her a sideways smile. “Oh, it’s kind of like granite. It comes in dikes and intrusions—veins, to the prospector. There’s another thing about pegmatite,” he added. “Without it, there’s no tourmaline.”
“I’m beginning to love pegmatite.”
“Thought you would.”
“Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“The pegmatite.”
“We’re probably driving over masses of the stuff right now.”
Reba looked out the window at the countryside dropping away steeply. “Looks like dirt to me.”
“Underneath the dirt.”
“But where?”
Chance laughed. “If I knew that, I’d stake out a claim myself. All I know is that the Pala area of San Diego County”—he waved a hand to indicate the surrounding land—“is riddled with pegmatite, and that in some of those crumbling dikes and sills are crystals of rubellite—tourmaline to you—that have an absolutely unique color. There is nothing like Pala’s pink tourmaline anywhere else on earth.”
“You know a lot about it,” she said, remembering his accurate assessment of the Chinese tear bottle. “Its history, geology, value. Everything.”
For an instant Chance looked as hard as the land. Then he said casually, “Pala’s tourmaline is world famous. Any gem gouger worth the name knows about it.”
Before Reba could say anything else, the Toyota came around the shoulder of a hill. Ahead of them lay the rough turnaround someone had bulldozed out at the road’s end just in front of the mine. The China Queen’s entrance was little more than a ragged hole at the base of a steep ridge. But it wasn’t the mine that caught Reba’s attention, it was the battered pickup truck parked in the turnaround.
Someone was already inside the China Queen.
----
C hance sent the Toyota into a skidding turn that didn’t end until they were facing back the way they had come. He set the brake but kept the engine on. With one hand he yanked free the cargo net that had kept everything in place while the vehicle jolted over the rough terrain. He opened a large, heavy tool chest and pulled out a pump shotgun. The barrel was long enough to be legal but too short for hunting game. Chance handled the weapon as easily as he had handled the Toyota. He flipped off the shotgun’s safety and pumped a shell into the firing chamber. The sound was metallic, chilling.
“You know how to use this, don’t you?” he asked calmly, holding out the shotgun to her.
Reba shook her head, drawing back. “No.”
“ Damn . City wise and country innocent.” He checked the China Queen’s entrance quickly in the rearview mirror. There was no one in sight around the mine. “If I’m not back in fifteen minutes—or if you see something coming out of the mine that you don’t like—drive as far as you can and then hike out to the highway. There’s a small ranch about a mile east of the mine turnoff. You can call Tim from there.”
“Can’t we just call the sheriff?”
“The sheriff doesn’t own the China Queen.”
Chance was out of the Toyota before Reba could argue. He took the shotgun with him. The pickup was only a few steps from the Toyota’s rear bumper, and the mine entrance only a few feet beyond the truck. Chance reached through the truck’s open window, pulled out the keys that had been left in the ignition and stuffed them in his pocket. If Reba had to drive out, no one would be able to follow her but Chance.
She checked her watch, then checked it again. It hadn’t stopped, it just was keeping time in slow motion while her heart raced.
She looked in the rearview mirror. Chance had vanished into the black mouth of the China Queen. The Toyota vibrated slightly beneath her feet, idling easily. She unfastened her seatbelt and moved over to the driver’s seat. She glanced at her watch again. One minute and thirty-seven seconds. With a small sound of impatience and protest, she watched the second hand
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