Page 7 of Badlands (Nora Kelly #5)

T HE BIRDSONG AND rushing of brook water were interrupted by the sound of a slamming trunk.

“Nora, you ready?” came the call.

“Just finishing my coffee,” she said back.

For a minute or two, the sounds of nature again filled the air.

Then Lucas Tappan mounted the steps and joined her on the back porch, flopping down in an Adirondack chair.

She offered him a sip from her cup and they spent a few minutes passing it back and forth in silence, feet up on the railing, enjoying the view over the North Star Nature Preserve.

Tappan had been Nora’s boyfriend for almost nine months now.

During that time, she had not seen him all that much—he had spent several months back east trying to set up a wind farm business off the coast. When he returned, Nora had begun fearing the moment he might approach her with a black velvet box containing a diamond just slightly smaller than the Great Star of Africa.

It wasn’t that she was averse to being engaged, and she knew her late husband, Bill, wouldn’t object—coming into a vast sum of money was something he’d enthusiastically encourage—but it was too soon for her.

Either Lucas sensed her hesitation, or he felt the same way himself, because he hadn’t hinted at taking things to the next level…

yet.

She finished the coffee, and Lucas took the cup back into the kitchen and rinsed it out.

This was one of the things she liked about him: despite being worth more than a billion dollars, he was a demon at dishwashing and an enthusiastic cook.

Even more, he hated other people doing things for him that he could do himself.

Instead of wallowing in pampered luxury at one of Aspen’s numerous resorts, they’d opted for a rustic cabin in the mountains with a fantastic view.

Of course, once they reached Aspen/Pitkin County Airport—and Lucas’s private jet—everything would change.

He was due back on the East Coast in a few days, looking after his corporate interests and putting out fires—for several months, this time—and she’d be back at the Institute.

That was why, Nora mused, they’d tried to make every minute of this vacation count.

She’d been dreading leaving their private cabin.

And now, as she heard the sound of running water in the kitchen, she flushed like a schoolgirl with a naughty idea.

Maybe they could play hooky—stay one more day.

And she had an idea how she might bring that about.

“Which did you enjoy more,” she asked, raising her voice so she could be heard through the screen door, “Castle or Maroon?”

There was a brief silence while the water turned off before a reply came.

“Maroon. A lot more technical, and what an iconic peak.”

They had spent the vacation climbing fourteeners—the Colorado peaks over fourteen thousand feet in altitude.

Nora had loved hiking and climbing since she was a girl, and during her tenure at New York’s Museum of Natural History, she had become a “forty-sixer”—climbing every high peak in the Adirondacks, including the trailless ones.

Back here in Colorado, she’d found an even greater challenge—in altitude, at least. It was just one of the many passions she shared with Lucas…

and that’s what she was counting on.

“I feel the same way,” she said.

“Long hike, big challenge—but it was worth it.” She paused.

“Kind of reminded me of Algonquin, second highest in New York. Of course, Maroon and Pyramid are in a different league… And might I point out, Pyramid shares much of the same route?”

She left the sentence hanging.

Lucas came back on the porch.

“Are you suggesting something?”

“Probably.”

Lucas fell silent.

Watching him frown in thought, the cleft in his chin coming into prominence and his gray eyes going far away under the curls of black hair, she felt a burst of affection.

“We’re all packed up,” he said.

“Just one more day?”

He glanced at his watch.

“It’s already eight thirty.”

“It didn’t take us long to drive to Maroon. Like I said, Pyramid shares a good portion of the route. It’s easier, shorter, less altitude gain—class 3 at most, nothing technical.”

When this was greeted with silence, she added: “That would make my tenth fourteener, a milestone. And I think your twentieth?”

Lucas smiled and nodded.

“Okay—I know when I’m being gamed. But what the hell? I guess Icarus can get along without me for another day.”

She jumped to her feet and kissed him.

“Let’s head out now—the car’s already packed, we’ll just pull out our gear when we reach the trailhead.”

As she went back into the cabin, her cell phone buzzed.

Nora had told her colleagues this five-day vacation was sacrosanct, so she wondered, with some irritation, who was calling.

Pulling out her phone, she saw the call was from Corrie Swanson—from her FBI number.

Figures, she thought.

Corrie always managed to call at the most inconvenient times.

“Well, well,” Tappan said, looking over her shoulder.

“An inspector calls.”

“I’m not going to take it,” Nora said, preparing to bitch button the call.

“Hold on a second,” said Tappan.

“Corrie doesn’t call to just chat—it usually means trouble.”

Nora let out a sigh.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She took the call.

“Hello?”

“Nora? It’s Corrie. I hope I didn’t get you at a bad time—”

“You always get me at a bad time,” she said, with a laugh.

“Lucas and I are mountain climbing in Colorado. Got you on speaker.”

“Oh, damn. Hi, Lucas! All I need is your opinion on something. Really quick, I swear.”

Tappan chuckled at Nora’s discomfiture.

“What?”

“I’ve got some photos I want you to look at. When you have time. On your way home, maybe.”

“Photos of what?”

“The remains of a young woman in the desert north of Chaco Canyon. No ID. Been there at least two years, mostly bones. I found a spearpoint under the bones, and I was hoping you might just glance at it.”

Nora felt a twinge of interest, then told herself that this was how it always started.

“Just sent them,” Corrie went on hurriedly.

“Again, sorry to bother you.”

On cue, Nora’s phone chimed with the sound of incoming images.

Corrie was a force of nature when she got going.

“North of Chaco?” Tappan said.

“That’s terra nullius.”

“You’re not kidding,” said Corrie.

The images popped onto the screen of her phone, showing the bones scattered on the ground, with some closeups of the spearpoint.

Nora began flipping through them.

“Nice,” Tappan said, still looking over her shoulder.

“A beaut,” Nora said.

“Paleoindian. It’s a Folsom point, fluted—gorgeous.” She scrolled more slowly through the next few pictures.

“Could it be a murder weapon?”

“I doubt it,” said Nora.

“Unless it were attached to a shaft.”

Nora kept flipping through the photos and suddenly stopped at one.

“You think it’s coincidence, then?”

Nora didn’t answer.

She stared at the photo.

It was another picture of the point, taken at a distance, showing the scattering of bones among the sand and rocks of the desert.

“Nora?” Corrie asked.

Nora continued staring at the photo, enlarging it with her fingers.

“You there, Nora?… Hello?”

“I’m coming in,” said Nora.

She glanced at her watch.

“Should be there by… five.”

“Coming in? You mean, here? You want to see the point in person?”

“I’ll explain when I get there.”

She signed off and looked up to find Tappan staring at her.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“You just finished convincing me to stay an extra day—and now we’re leaving?”

“I know. I’m sorry. There’s something in that photo that I’ve got to see.”

“Corrie can wait another day.”

“Corrie can,” said Nora. “But I can’t.”