top of his head, she gathered her composure, calm beginning to seep back into her. “Thank you, Mr. Lonechief.”
Outside in the bright, cloudless day, she examined the small town of San Angelo. Only twenty miles to the north lay the start of the canyon system that led to the place she wanted to go. She’d worked too hard on this theory to back down. She didn’t want the gold; she wanted the credit. She had to publish something this year if she was to stay on the faculty at Albuquerque City College and get her tenure. The history department chairperson had made that clear to her, especially in the wake of budget cuts. Her job was all she had now. Yes, she had friends, family and the Lord, but she needed something to do to keep the past at bay, to keep her mind focused forward.
Later that day Kit stared down at the chart showing one-third of New Mexico. “Samuel, I could hug you! This is just what I needed. Where did you get such a detailed map of the area I’m interested in? I’ve never seen one like this.”
“From the archaeology archives.”
“I’ve seen some of their maps, but nothing like this.”
He bent toward her and whispered, “These aren’t common knowledge and are usually kept under lock and key on the top floor of the library. Even what they are cataloged under doesn’t tell anyone much. You see where all the Indian ruins are marked. They don’t want people thinking they can go dig them up.”
“I know that. Zach told me they keep most of the discovered ruins as is, not excavated. To disturb them would cause more damage and lost knowledge. This will really help.”
“Have you found a guide yet?”
“I’m working on it. I’ve got a lead. No one as skilled as Zach Collier’s cousin, but this map will help make up for the fact I can’t get him.”
“I need to get it back upstairs. I’ll make a copy of it. Just wait right here.” Samuel took the map and turned toward the back room behind the counter.
Kit stopped him with a hand on his arm. “You won’t get into trouble for bringing the map down here, will you?”
He smiled. “Jessica, who runs that floor, owes me a favor. She knows I have it, but I promised I would bring it back by four, that all I needed to do was check a reference for one of the professors in the archaeology department.”
Her hand slipping from his arm, she watched Samuel rush away. She certainly wouldn’t be excavating any ruins that had already been discovered, since what she was looking for hadn’t been unearthed. Besides, she wasn’t an archaeologist. When she found the City of Gold, she would leave that part to the experts.
“It’s in there.” When Samuel came back, he handed her a large manila envelope. “I had to copy it in sections because of its size.”
She took it, so thankful for his assistance. “I’m going to give you that hug.” She quickly did. “Thanks again. I’ve got someone I have to meet upstairs. See you,” she said, then hurried toward the steps that led to the third floor.
On the staircase she passed Wes carrying a couple of large volumes. When he came to a stop, she did, too.
“I’m beginning to think you live here,” he said with a nervous laugh.
“I’ve been working on a paper for the American Historical Society magazine.” Which was true because she intended to publish her article in it.
“Ah, our publish-or-perish requirement. I’ve been contemplating what I’ll write about. If you’ve got time later, I would like to discuss it with you.”
“You aren’t worried I’ll steal your idea?”
“Not you.” Appreciation glinted in his eyes. “You’re the most ethical person I know. Besides, it sounds like you’ve got yours well under control. Will you be in your office later?”
“No, I’m going home in a few minutes. Come by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow it is.” Wes continued his descent to the second floor.
Kit watched him for a few seconds before mounting the steps. She had a meeting with another guide prospect in the back part of the library. Not many people frequented that area, especially during the day. She felt like a spy, setting up a rendezvous, having to consider where she could go without being unduly noticed. Since she was often at the library, no one would think that was strange. Having Ronald Hoffman come to her office was out of the question. The same for her house. So this was it, because she was determined no one would know whom she had hired this time.
A tall, thin man removed a book from a shelf and flipped through it before putting it back. He took another one down.
After scanning the area for anyone else, she hastened forward. “Are you Mr. Hoffman?”
He looked toward her. “Yes. Dr. Sinclair?”
She nodded.
“Did you bring the deposit?”
She rummaged in her purse until she found the envelope with the money in it. “You’ll get twice that when we complete the trip.”
He counted the bills. “I don’t know why you want to go there, but I’ll take you for the agreed-upon amount. From what I’ve heard, it won’t be easy.” His pinpoint gaze skimmed down her length. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Of course. Are you sure you know how to get to Desolation Canyon?”
“Of course. As I told you earlier on the phone, I haven’t been there personally, but I know where it is, and that type of terrain is something I’m used to.”
“When can we leave?” She hugged the manila envelope to her chest. If he didn’t know how to get there, she could figure it out with this detailed map.
“You said something about this Saturday. I can go then.” He presented her with a list of supplies. “You’ll need to bring these.”
“Where do we meet?”
“At Black Horse Pass at seven in the morning. It’ll probably take at least five days.” He moved past her toward the exit.
“Thank you,” she said, but the man had already disappeared around the corner.
Suddenly her legs gave away. She sagged to the floor. What had she set in motion? Ronald Hoffman’s credentials had checked out. He’d used to work for an adventure group who had taken people on trips into the wilderness around New Mexico and the surrounding states. If she couldn’t have Hawke Lonechief, he was the next best thing.
Kit finished loading her red Honda. The darkness of predawn had lightened to a dim gray, but the sun was still hidden below the eastern horizon. Excitement surged through her at the idea she would be hiking toward Desolation Canyon in a couple of hours.
Marcus Perry, dressed in his navy-blue jogging shorts and white T-shirt, came out onto his porch. She waved at her neighbor and friend. He loped toward her while pulling neon-orange sweatbands on his wrists. From the curious gleam in his eyes, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get away without telling him something.
He
