Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(81)

Before Valdis could slide off her perch, Walker was there, catching her, lowering her to the plateau they stood on. Her aunt wasn’t a small woman, but Walker cradled her like a child.

To Sam’s surprise, Harvey reluctantly climbed up to join them.

“She’s been without food and water for twenty-four hours. She says her ankle is sprained.” Sam dropped to her knees to push her aunt’s ragged black skirt away from her ugly black boots. Valdis had apparently opened the laces on her right boot. Sam tried to pull it off, but the leg was swollen. “I need a knife to cut this off. She can’t walk like this.”

“We’ll let the medics cut the boot off. They should be waiting by the time we get her down. I didn’t call search and rescue, so we’ll have to carry her ourselves.” Walker shoved aside Valdis’s lacy veil to reach her cloak ties.

Sam gasped at the sight of the red scar marring her aunt’s elegantly-boned face. Apparently already aware of the disfigurement, Walker unfastened the heavy black cloak she’d been wearing the night before.

Harvey apparently grasped what he intended. He took the other end of the cloak, and the two men tugged on it, testing it for strength.

“It should work,” Harvey said, handing his staff to Sam. The wood vibrated with an intensity deeper than hers, and she almost dropped it. “You’ll have to lead the way down. Walking backward is not one of my skills, but I should be able to follow the stick.”

They wanted her to lead the way? As she stood there, stunned and shivering, Walker hugged her and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “We’ve made enough noise to scare snakes into the next state. Just go slow.”

“What if she wakes up?” Sam asked, worriedly studying her unconscious aunt.

“We could make a strait jacket of this thing,” Walker suggested. “Bundle her up like a butterfly.”

“Caterpillar cocoon,” Harvey corrected grimly. “Or bat wings. With Valdis, that’s our best bet.”

Sam helped them lift her aunt and lay the cloak under her, then roll her back on it and wrap it around, with room to spare. Without the drama, Valdis seemed much smaller.

“Do you think she was really talking to Juan?” Sam asked, flashing her light down the jumble of rocks.

She might never overcome her dislike of snakes, but she’d learned to fight her fear. That had to be a step in the right direction.

“If it was Juan, he didn’t tell us much,” Harvey said disparagingly, lifting his end of the bundle. “Except that Francois has a boyfriend. Should have guessed that.”

Walker snorted as he lifted his end. “The epaulets didn’t give it away?”

“Bigot,” Sam called back as she scrambled down the path. “Wearing costumes doesn’t mean a person is gay.”

“He’s seeking attention,” Harvey suggested. “That doesn’t make him a killer.”

“Francois was there when Carmel visited the vault,” Walker argued. “If that’s where she kept the gun, he knows about it and had access to it. And he would have had the keys to drive back up to the vault after Juan was shot.”

Sam considered that but shook her head in disagreement. “If we are going to believe that was Juan talking through Valdis—and not just Valdis being dramatic—then it sounded as if the boyfriend was the killer, not Francois.”

“The old fraud,” Walker repeated. “And the reference to the boss back then makes me wonder if Valdis doesn’t know something about my father’s death as well.”

“Valdis wasn’t here back then,” Sam reminded him. “So she would have had to have heard it from someone else.”

“Like Juan,” Harvey suggested dryly. “I’m not liking this backward thing. Give me a second so I can try holding her behind my back.”

“Earlier, before you arrived, Valdis was channeling other voices.” Sam waited as Harvey lowered his burden and turned around. “One voice said we should leave and let the evil die up there as he did. That voice also muttered about paint and demons burying us. The other sounded like a woman with maybe a Scandinavian accent. She said we would be fine and we should save the farm. It all got mixed up with art and crystals and Valdis telling me it was Susannah’s fault that I’m not an artist.”

“Hallucinating,” Walker said. “She was up there too long. She’s dehydrated.”

“I wish I could have got some water in her, but I’m afraid she’ll choke if I try now,” Sam said worriedly.

“Believe me, it’s much better to leave Valdis unconscious.” Harvey strode with more assurance now that he was facing forward. “She has the strength of a pit bull and her bite doesn’t let go.”

Sam flashed her light up the hill to check on Walker. The muscles had tightened over his cheekbones, but she didn’t think it was from the strain of carrying his burden. He had his grim cop look on. “You’re about to tear Francois into shreds—just in case Valdis knows something, aren’t you?”

“I dismissed him. I shouldn’t have. He’s lived up here as long as the Kennedys.”

“Keep it moving, Sam,” Harvey said. “You can admire your boyfriend once we get off this damned mountain.”

Sam marched on, feeling somehow safer and a little triumphant that she had conquered her fear and maybe, sort of, accepted that her aunt spoke to people on another plane. This was not university material by any means. And maybe it was only the theatrics that made her believe. But if Valdis had given Walker a clue that could lead him to his father’s killer. . . She didn’t care how it came about.