The Secret of the Stones by Ernest Dempsey (reading fiction .TXT) 📕

Golden Chambers of Akhanan for some time now. I’d say these letters right here prove that they exists. At least, there was enough evidence for Dr. Borringer to believe they exist. The fact that he was murdered for this information makes me think he was on the right track.” His fingers retraced the mysterious words on the paper.

She was leaning over his shoulder; her fragrant hair fell lightly onto his neck as her breath tickled his skin. Sean couldn’t help but be momentarily distracted. It had been a long time since he had any kind of romantic contact. His job kept him out of the country a great deal, and when he was home, it wasn’t for very long. Both facts made it difficult to meet people that way, much less maintain a relationship. For a moment, his thoughts drifted to a few years back to…he couldn’t let himself think about that. Not now anyway.

“It would sure be nice if we knew what we were looking for,” she commented, seemingly unaware of his thoughts.

“We know exactly what we are looking for,” he corrected. “I just have no idea where to find it. I do have a friend, though, that might be able to shed some light on this little puzzle.”

“Yeah?” She perked up. “Who?”

“A buddy of mine works at the Etowah Indian Mounds State Park. He lives near the site just outside of Cartersville. It shouldn’t take us more than forty minutes to get there. The guy knows more about Native American history than anyone I’ve ever heard of. Plus, I’m sure he’s heard some stories that never made it into the history books, and that is exactly the kind of stuff we need to find out about.”

His mind was racing right now. Could this be the first real clue to finding the lost Golden Chambers?

“This friend of yours isn’t one of those crackpot conspiracy theorists, is he?” She gave him a playful, suspicious glance.

“No…well, not completely. He’s okay. We won’t be looking for UFOs, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Sean gave a reassuring smile.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang, and their smiles turned instantly to concern. Quickly, he grabbed the letters and stuffed them into his inner jacket pocket and stepped over to the door. Allyson leaned close behind him as he peeked around the door.

Around the edge, they could see Mrs. Borringer open the front door. Sean listened intently to a man’s voice on the other side of the door. It sounded like the guy said something about being with the police. He wondered to himself if it were the mysterious Jurgenson, but these thoughts were answered as a black man in a tan jacket walked through the door, putting his wallet and identification into a coat pocket as he crossed the threshold.

Mrs. Borringer politely asked him if he would like something to drink. The lady must treat all visitors like friends. Sean pulled himself away from the door. He whispered, “We have to get out of here. That’s gotta be Detective Morris, the guy that called me earlier from the Atlanta PD. If he is looking for clues, he will want to see this room.”

“How are we going to leave without him seeing us?”

“Mrs. B is still talking to him.” Sean paused for a moment to make sure he was right. Then he whispered, “Let’s move across the hall to the bedroom. He won’t have any reason to go in there.”

Allyson nodded in agreement. Sean peered around the corner of the doorway again. Down below, the detective was saying something about Dr. Borringer’s research. Silently, the two made their way across the hallway into the master bedroom. Upon entering it, they realized that it was much more tastefully decorated than the hodgepodge of the rest of the house.

The walls were painted a warm tan color with dark wooden nightstands and dressers. A large oak armoire rested in the corner, with intricate carvings of floral and forest themes on the front.

Sean motioned to the master bathroom, and the two of them quickly darted to the open door. Back in the hallway, the voices of Detective Morris and Mrs. Borringer grew louder as they climbed the stairs.

Tucking in around the corner of the bathroom, Sean inched his head forward to see across the hall.

“This is where your husband kept all of his research?” the detective asked.

“Yes, sir.” She continued on, answering the man’s questions the same way she had answered Sean’s earlier.

“What are they doing?” The tension was too much for Allyson.

Sean motioned for her to be quiet with his finger while the two in the other room disappeared from view, apparently looking through some of the things on the desk. A few minutes passed. Suddenly, the detective appeared in the doorway again. Sean quickly ducked back behind the bathroom doorway, unsure if he’d been seen.

He heard the man comment on the nicely decorated bedroom, obviously looking inside. Apparently, Sean’s and Allyson’s presence was unknown because the cop was still talking with Mrs. Borringer about her late husband’s work. The voices continued to move farther away and down the stairs.

Leaving their bathroom hiding place, the two fugitives went to the doorway leading into the hall. Downstairs, Mrs. Borringer politely escorted Morris to the door. He thanked her for her courtesy and invited her to call if she could think of anything he might need to know.

Sean and Allyson heard the front door close and looked at each other, breathing a sigh of relief. They’d caught a huge break not getting caught.

“We’d better get going,” he stated.

“No argument here,” she agreed as they stood and exited the bedroom.

18

Cartersville, Georgia

The gray sedan sped along the interstate, heading toward the rural town