Shadow Cave (3 page)

“
Mike
’
s notes.
Some of them are in English
, the
rest are written in some sort of code.
But from what we were able to figure from those notes and the drawings, along with a small bit of literature he apparently printed out
,
we think he found a
...
realm.
Some sort of
—
”

“
Alternate universe?
You
’
ve got to be kidding me.
”
I started to laugh.
“
Oh
,
this is great
,
just
great.
You expect me to believe
...
lord.
Okay, you got me. April fools.
”
Except it wasn
’
t April.
Still, I was certainly feeling the fool.

John cleared his throat and lifted his chin another notch, indignant now.
“
Yes, well, it
’
s there in the notes.
I realize how this sounds
;
w
e all realize how this sounds.
But, the fact is, your brother took a considerable amount of money from me and from this organization.
He vanished without a trace, and now we
’
ve found
—
”

“
Yeah, by the way, where did you
‘
find
’
this?
”

“
The documents were at his residence.
”

“
Nice.
”
Asshole.

“
It
’
s all there in black and white, Claire.
Science has speculated the phenomena of separate plains of existence for centuries.
To actually be part of a discovery like this
—
well, that would be something spectacular.
Surely you can see that, being the scientist that you are.
”

“
Botanist,
”
I murmured absently as I leafed through the box again.
My head snapped up then.
“
What are you…oh no, John, no you don
’
t.
I
’
m not getting involved in this
,
whatever
‘
this
’
even is.
Have you taken up drinking?
”

“
How very amusing, Claire.
I wouldn
’
t have involved you in this if I didn
’
t have to.
Your brother mentions you specifically in his notes.
We think you might be of some assistance to us
—
and to him.
”

“
Me?
”
I gestured to the box.
“
Where is it?
Show me.
”

“
Look in the last notebook.
The inside of the back cover.
”

I flipped the book over and read the words near the bottom.
“
To Baby Bear and Indian summers
,
”
I read aloud.
Shocked, I lifted my eyes to John.

“
Baby bear?
”

“
What my family used to call me.
Yes.
”

“
And Indian summers?
”

“
They only meant long summers.
We, ah, had a lot of fun, together on summer break, me and Mike did.
Megan was older and
...
well
,
never mind.
”
I didn
’
t tell John about the summer Mike turned
ten
.
I was
twelve
.
We set out for the woods near the end of the summer, in August.
It was burning hot, but Mike insisted that we were on an adventure.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember the details of that long ago camping trip.

“
Does it mean anything else to you?
”

I shook my head, mute.

“
What about the code he used?
”

“
Code?
Oh.
”
I noticed now
—
and wondered briefly how I could have missed it before
—
that the words that filled Mike
’
s notebooks were a jumbled mess.
I looked a little harder, concentrating
,
and tried not to smile.
The words and many of the actual letters were backwards.
Some of the letters were even upside down, like most of his
‘
A
’
s and
‘
C
’
s.
Throughout the book, I noticed that he had even simply scrambled many of the words.
It was a pain in the butt to read, but easy enough to figure out if you took the time to do it.

I coughed and sipped coffee that was somehow still warm.
“
You and your gang of reputed business men couldn
’
t crack the code, huh?
”
I couldn
’
t help but notice that several of the men didn
’
t appreciate the remark.

“
Do you recognize it?
”
John was impatient now.

“
Yes, I do.
Mike developed a secret code recently.
”
No point in telling him it was something we had been doing since childhood.

“
And you are familiar with it, I am
assuming
.
”

“
You assume correct
ly
.
”
I leaned back and folded my arms across my still damp chest.
“
I
’
m not giving it to you.
”

“
Of course you aren
’
t
,
”
h
e muttered.
“
But lucky for you I
’
m not asking for the key to the code.
”

“
Then what do you want from me?
”

“
I want you to find your brother.
”

Decisions

Three days passed before I looked at the box again.
I guess I thought that if I ignored it
,
it would simply go away.
Note to self: that never works.
I had been trying to perfect that technique for years without success.
Most of my reaction those first few days was shock
...
s
hock and a sickening numbness in the pit of my stomach
,
like when you just know that the worst
is
yet to come.

Maybe I didn
’
t yet have anything concrete on which to base that feeling of dread
, although
to my way of thinking the proof was probably already there.
The wonderful mix of having to deal with my sisters creep of an ex-husband (I swear I
’
ll never know what she saw in that man), an alternate universe (what a joke), and a brother who had apparently vanished into thin air was not an appealing combination.
The way I saw it
,
dread was probably the best possible outcome.

I could still hear John
’
s unspoken command from the impromptu meeting of the previous week
—find
your brother and bring him to me.
It didn
’
t matter that he hadn
’
t actually said
‘
bring him to me
.
’
The implication was there.
There was still the matter of an undisclosed amount of cash that my brother presumably owed.
I sighed and rubbed my temples.
I wasn
’
t sure if I could find Mike
, but
if I did I hoped to God he had a wad of cash on him.

I had a hard time picturing John as a hit man
, but
I did know that he was a shrewd businessman who apparently felt he owed very little to ethics.
The fact that I knew John would never get his hands dirty did not ease my mind one bit.
Just because John Hanlen felt that such things as battery and murder were beneath him did not make him opposed to the idea altogether.
Of that I was certain.

It had also occurred to me that nine tenths of what John had told me was a complete lie.
I didn
’
t know all of the details about the money that Mike had been given
, only
that it was cash and there had been a lot of it.
There was an obvious connection between
my
brother, Lantech, and John.
I was still very reluctant to believe that Mike had intended to rob some secret archaeological site using a map he found in central Africa five years ago.
The very idea was not only convoluted but ridiculous.
Bottom line, I couldn
’
t afford to believe a word that John said.
And this
, I thought with a bitter smile,
was a truth that my entire family had known for quite some time.

I crossed my legs and took a long drink from the bottle of beer that sat on the carpet next to me in the den.
I frowned and sat the beer on the fireplace ledge in front of me.
Even though it was just now early fall, Seattle wasn
’
t the warmest place in the world to live.
Not that I was particularly cold
;
t
he fire was more for ambiance than any real need for warmth.
The fire was also not the best thing to have
next
to a flammable box of even more flammable notebooks
...especially
when they were possibly one of the only remaining links to my brother.

No.
I wouldn
’
t go there.
Mike was alright.
He had to be.
But burning his notes was still not a smart idea.
I scooted back some and picked up the first book.
At least I hoped it was the first book.
A quick peek inside told me that
,
bless him
,
he had numbered the pages.

My bare fingernails drummed on the thin paper.
The first step would be to translate his notes
,
in English
—
I snickered
—
onto separate books.
Not that I required any special keys to read the notes, but there was a lot of material there.
I remembered what John had said about alternate realms
,
and prayed for that information to make sense.

It took several hours to copy the pages onto a new notebook.
I stood up and stretched my aching muscles, reaching far behind my back.
The good thing was that it had been fairly easy work.
The bad thing was that I was translating what appeared to be a children
’
s fairy
tale gone wrong.
And my hand was cramping.
Come to think of it
,
so was my butt.
To top it off
,
I was out of notebooks.

I thought it might be a good idea to pick up some fresh pens, too.
It was only seven in the evening
,
and although it was already dark outside, the weather was clear and cool; there was still plenty of time to get through another book that night.
I glanced down at the pile by my bare feet and groaned.
Only eight more books to go
,
which meant I was definitely going to the store.

By midnight I was gritty eyed and wondering what was holding my hand onto my body.
I never wanted to see another godforsaken notebook again.
But finally, after book number three, the
fairy tale
was over.
I hoped that the next book would give me a better idea of just what the hell Mike had been thinking.
Plus,
I still couldn
’
t figure out why he would have gotten himself involved with John in the first place.
I wasn
’
t even sure if I wanted to know.
As far as John was concerned, I wanted nothing more than to give two weeks
’
notice at Lantech and never deal with the slug again
—perhaps
forget that our little
‘
meeting of sorts
’
had ever taken place.