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

were a couple of FBI agents staying up here. Showed up and took charge within hours of the accident in the mine. Sent the local boys packing. I’d prefer to avoid a confrontation with the feds.”

“I’m with you on that one,” Wagner agreed. “Still doesn’t help us reach that mine.”

“Turn around.” Harlan nodded back in the direction from which they had come. “There was a trail about a half mile back. Looks like it cuts around the back of the property, at least according to Google Earth. If we drive in that way, no one will see us.”

“You want me to go off roading up that damned mountain?”

“It’s not that far,” Harlan replied. “A mile at most.”

“It’s not the distance that worries me, it’s the damage to my tires. I didn’t buy this truck so I could go driving all over the desert.”

“Then why did you buy it?” Harlan asked. “Isn’t that what a truck is for?”

“Whatever,” Wagner replied, grumpily. He spun the wheel and steered the truck back in the other direction. The rear wheels kicked up gravel as he sped up away from the shoulder. “I get a flat, you’re paying to replace the tire.”

“We find that gold and get Oscar Rossi off our backs, I’ll buy you a whole new truck.”

“Your back, not mine,” Wagner said. “I told you at the time not to do business with him.”

“What choice did I have?” Harlan glanced down at the map on his phone, then back to the road. A moment later he slapped the dashboard with the palm of his hand. “There it is. The trail. Turn left here.”

Wagner slowed and made the turn, then picked his way carefully up the trail. The truck had good suspension, but even so, they were jostled and bumped as the powerful vehicle clawed its way forward on the uneven surface. Soon they reached a flat, wide area crisscrossed with what looked like dirt bike tracks. An old fire pit was visible to their left, along with several crushed beer cans.

“Someone had fun up here,” Wagner said, slowing the truck to a crawl.

“As long as they aren’t here now.” Harlan glanced toward the GM. “Why are you slowing down?”

“It looks pretty rough ahead,” Wagner said, pointing toward the trail, which petered out to a narrow walking path strewn with boulders. “There’s no way I’m taking the truck up that.”

“Fine.” Harlan didn’t bother to hide his displeasure. “We’ll hoof it from here. Probably best to keep the truck out of sight, anyway. The mine shouldn’t be far now. Just over the next ridge.”

“Great. Then maybe we can get back to civilization.” Wagner pulled his door open and jumped out. He slammed it and rounded the front of the vehicle, a scowl on his face. “And FYI, you definitely owe me that car wash. The truck’s filthy.”

“Quit moaning.” Harlan stepped past him and started up the trail on foot. “Your truck got a bit dirty, who cares? If we don’t pull this off, I’ll be part of the foundation for one of Rossi’s building projects, and you’ll be doing his dirty work for the rest of your life.”

“I’m not complaining,” Wagner said. “I just don’t like the desert.”

“And yet you live in Las Vegas.” Harlan shook his head in bewilderment.

“Exactly. If I actually wanted to live in the desert surrounded by lizards and coyotes, I wouldn’t have bought a condo on the eighth floor of a tower overlooking the Strip.”

“Fair point.”

They were approaching the end of the trail now, as it curved back down and ended at the entrance to the Ghost Canyon Mine. Harlan quickened his step, eager to see what awaited them.

“That looks like the mine entrance,” Wagner said, pointing to a dark hole in the mountainside up ahead.

Harlan nodded and approached the entrance where a pair of security gates were standing ajar. “Not even padlocked. We can get inside.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to go in yet,” Wagner said.

“I don’t,” Harlan replied. “But this might be our only chance. Once they lock it again we won’t be able to get in.”

“We’ll still get in. I’ll just use a pair of bolt cutters.”

“And then the owners of this place will know someone was up here, genius.” Harlan sighed. “They might decide to see what we wanted and find the gold, then we’re screwed.”

“Or they might not.” Wagner glanced over his shoulder. “You saw those dirt bike trails. I’ll bet teenagers come out here all the time to party. They’ll probably just think it was random vandalism. Besides, they might leave it unlocked.”

Harlan nodded. Wagner had a point, and he would have admitted as much, if it weren’t for the unfamiliar voice that broke the silence behind them.

“Hey, you two. What are you doing up here?”

Harlan turned, surprised, and saw a pair of strangers striding toward them. The shorter man was armed with a Glock service pistol, which he was already pulling from its holster.

Harlan cursed under his breath. After taking the trouble to avoid going through town and making their presence obvious, they had been discovered anyway. Now the only question was how to handle it, especially since they had a gun pointed at them.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Decker saw the two strangers as soon as they crested the trail. Special Agent Barnes had seen them too, standing near the entrance to the Ghost Canyon Mine, and was already pulling his gun, ready for trouble.

The pair of interlopers, on the other hand, didn’t notice Decker and Barnes until the FBI agent shouted a challenge to them. They spun around, surprised, the look on their faces telling Decker that they hadn’t expected anyone to discover them in such a remote location.

“Answer the question,” Decker barked, employing the same authoritative voice that he’d used back in his days as a cop in New York. “This is private land. What are you doing?”

For a moment, neither man spoke. They just stared in mute shock as Decker and Barnes closed the distance between them. Then the smaller of the