Ghost Canyon (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 7) by Anthony Strong (ebooks that read to you .TXT) 📕

“Are you planning to go inside?” Barnes asked.

“Not yet.” Decker shook his head. “I’d like to get a better idea what we’re dealing with before that happens.”

“Makes sense.” Barnes nodded.

“Do you have the medical examiner’s report on the search team member that was killed, Sasha Martin?”

“Not yet in,” Fowler replied. “It’s only been forty-eight hours. I can call the Clark County ME’s office and see where we stand if you like. Is there something in particular you’re looking for?”

“Not sure,” Decker replied. “But I would like to get their opinion on cause of death. If they think a human or an animal inflicted the wounds.”

“I watched the body cam footage,” Barnes chimed in. “That was no human, at least not a normal one.”

“Didn’t look much like an animal either,” Fowler said. “Looked more like a walking skeleton.”

“Which is precisely why I want a professional opinion. The ME hasn’t seen that footage, therefore won’t be swayed by presumption. Regardless of what the officer’s camera filmed, we cannot jump to conclusions. Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.”

“Sometimes they are,” Fowler said, grimly. “Pretty hard to mistake Sasha Martin’s killer for a bobcat, at least if you’ve watched the footage. Regardless, I’ll see what I can do. I can’t imagine they’ll have a full report typed up yet, but they should be able to tell us something.”

“Perfect. I’d like to go there in person and speak with the medical examiner directly,” Decker replied. “It might be helpful to see the body too.”

“I’m sure I can arrange that.”

“I’ll leave it in your competent hands, then.” Decker pushed his empty plate away and stood up.

Under the table, Tieg emitted a disgruntled snort when he realized there would be no table scraps forthcoming.

“I’m going to take that walk now,” Decker said.

“You want some company?” Barnes asked.

“Sure.” Decker turned to Special Agent Fowler. “How about you?”

“I don’t think so,” Fowler replied. “I’ll stay here and call the ME.”

Decker nodded. He glanced toward Robyn. “Thank you for the delicious meal.”

“You’re welcome,” Robyn replied, smiling. “If you can figure out what’s running around in that mine and take care of it, I’ll make all the bacon and eggs you want for the rest of your life.”

“It’s a deal,” Decker replied, grinning. He motioned to Barnes. “Ready to go?”

“Sure.” Barnes pushed his chair back and stood up. “Just give me one minute to go upstairs. I want to get my gun. I don’t feel like heading up there unarmed.”

“A wise precaution.” Decker started toward the kitchen door. “I’ll meet you out front.”

Decker made his way through the lobby. Behind him, he heard Barnes climbing the stairs. He stepped out onto the veranda and leaned on the railing, taking in the ghost town during daylight for the first time. It was a town in name only. In reality, Haley was nothing more than a cluster of dilapidated buildings gathered next to a dusty road. The structures themselves were in various states of disrepair, and many of them looked like they would blow down at the first strong gust of wind. One building leaned at a precarious angle, part of the roof gone, Windows nothing more than black oblongs devoid of glass. Thick support beams stood at forty-five degrees against the side wall, to prevent the building from collapsing completely. The skeletal frames of rusting cars and trucks sat baking in the sun. Some of them looked decades older than Decker. He wondered how much they would be worth, if restored. Then he decided they were too far gone to bother.

He glanced to his left, where a meandering trail followed the steeply rising land. Two A-frame barricades stood across the entrance, even though there was nobody to keep out except the ghost town’s owners, Decker, and the FBI agents. Plus Tieg, of course, although Decker didn’t think the dog cared one way or the other about the barricades.

He stepped down onto the dusty street. The sun was scorching on his head and shoulders. It was the exact opposite of the cold and rainy weather he’d left behind in Maine. Decker wondered if he should go back inside for a baseball cap. He didn’t want to get sunburned. But then Special Agent Barnes appeared, his service weapon pushed into a holster worn over his polo shirt.

“Ready to explore?” Barnes asked, drawing level with Decker.

“Lead the way,” Decker replied, deciding he couldn’t be bothered to find a cap. “Show me that goldmine.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Harlan Biggs told his general manager, and the man currently driving the truck they were both riding in, to pull over onto the side of the road at the outskirts of the ghost town of Haley, Nevada.

While they were en route, he’d checked out the town’s geography and discovered that the mine lay about half a mile distant, up a narrow trail that wound into the mountains. This tallied with the information gleaned earlier that morning from an old and fading map hand-drawn inside his great-great-grandfather’s journal. It appeared that nothing much had changed over the intervening hundred and thirty years other than a steady decline in the condition of the town’s buildings, and of course, it’s population.

“Why are we stopping here?” Wagner asked as he maneuvered the truck off the road and onto the dusty shoulder.

“Look at that place,” Harlan replied. “There’s barely anyone around. We go driving in there, we’ll draw all sorts of attention. I’d like to keep this little trip on the lowdown, at least for now.”

“So how are we supposed to get to the mine?”

“Not this way, that’s for sure.” Harlan peered through the windshield at the A-frame barricades blocking off the trail. He also noted the unmarked Crown Victoria parked outside of the one building-the sign out front proclaimed it to be the Last Chance Saloon and Hotel-that didn’t look like it was going to collapse at any moment. “That car must belong to the feds. My contact in the Vegas Police Department said there