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He really didn’t — I made sure to keep a backup box of treats at all times — but I knew that was just his way of getting in the last word.
But at least I didn’t have to waste any more time standing there and arguing with him. I grabbed my purse and let myself out of the apartment before hurrying down the back stairs.
I honestly didn’t know where I was going. Or rather, I knew I needed to head out of town on Highway 70, going east, to get to San Ramon, the main settlement on the reservation, but what I’d seen in that flash of a vision had been a river, not a town. I sat in the car for a minute, scanning the map I’d brought up, locating the San Ramon River, which flowed just to the east of the town itself. The water in the vision hadn’t looked wide enough to be a river, but I was starting to learn that “river” didn’t necessarily mean the same thing in Arizona that it did in other places.
There also appeared to be lots of creeks and tributaries of the San Ramon, and maybe Lucien had been found next to one of them. Calvin had said his body had been found on a riverbank, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
Just to be safe, I’d brought along one of my pendulums, the banded fluorite one that had always seemed the most helpful when it came to sharpening focus. Since I had to let the universe guide me to the right spot, I figured I could use all the help I could get.
And because the sun was already starting to sink toward the west, I knew I needed to get going.
About five minutes outside Globe, I passed Apache Gold, the casino the San Ramon tribe operated. I’d come this way before, of course, but this time I paid more attention to the structure, to how tidy and prosperous everything looked. The parking lot appeared pretty full, too. True, it was a Saturday afternoon, probably peak play time for any local gamblers, but still. No wonder the police station was so nice; the tribe probably had casino profits to burn.
I turned off the same place Calvin had when we’d gone to the station, figuring that driving through what counted as “downtown” San Ramon was just as good a route as anything else. The town — not much more than a collection of small houses and buildings that made Globe look like a bustling metropolis — passed by the car windows, quiet, unassuming. A lot of the houses looked like they were actually mobile homes, but everything appeared to be in good repair, the yards neatly kept.
Then I saw a sign that said “River Access” and turned right, following the narrow street until it came to an abrupt halt at a community parking lot. A white pickup truck was parked at the far end of the lot, but otherwise it seemed unoccupied.
End of the road. I pulled into one of the numerous empty spaces, then got out of the car. Hiking around on what could prove to be treacherous terrain while hauling my purse with me didn’t seem like a very good idea, so I extracted my I.D., key fob, pendulum, and phone and shoved them into my pockets, then stowed the purse in the trunk and locked it.
Now mostly unencumbered, I followed the signs pointing me to the trailhead and began to walk. Already I heard the sound of water rushing a few yards away, while the long row of cottonwoods would have showed me exactly where the river was located even without the signage.
As I walked, I wondered how Lucien had ended up here. Had he been murdered somewhere else? Had the killer brought his body here to dump it in the river, thinking that was the best way to get rid of it?
That made some sense…especially if the murderer was someone unfamiliar with the area, someone who couldn’t have known that the currents would carry a body onto the bank rather than safely downstream.
Or maybe Lucien had come here under his own power. I remembered he was a Scorpio — double Scorpio, actually, with both his sun and ascendant in that powerful, mysterious water sign — and I supposed it was also possible that he’d come here to commune with the flowing water and try to tap into its energies. His house in Encino had fountains everywhere — in the courtyard, in the foyer, in almost every room.
But even if he’d come to the San Ramon River to blend its energies with his, someone must have followed him with evil in their heart. If he’d died from drowning, then I could have chalked up his death to a fatal accident and nothing more, but you didn’t drown from multiple stab wounds to the chest. Or at least, even if it turned out that the actual cause of death was water in the lungs, he probably could have survived falling in the river if it weren’t for that whole stabbing thing.
Since I seemed to be alone for the moment, I pulled the fluorite pendulum from my pocket and paused on the path, letting it dangle in front of me. A second or two passed as it swung idly from side to side with no real pattern to its movements…until it appeared to almost reverse itself, tracing an arc that moved from me to the path ahead and then back again. In fact, it felt as if it had come alive, was pulling me in that direction.
Well, I’d come here for an answer from the universe. I supposed I’d better see what it wanted.
I moved forward as the sound of the water grew louder and louder. The path, to my relief, was fairly well marked and not too rocky, telling me this same route had been used by many people before me. A few yards more, and I reached the river bank.
The San Ramon was bigger than I’d expected, maybe around five yards from bank to bank. It moved briskly, too, chattering over rounded granite stones as it flowed to the southeast. Where all that water was coming from, I didn’t know for sure, although I vaguely recalled that there were large mountain ranges to the north, places that might add their snow melt to the river in front of me.
Growing up in Southern California as I had, flowing water always fascinated me. Sure, I was used to the ocean, but the only time I’d ever seen an honest-to-goodness river was when I’d made a trip up to Big Bear years earlier.
The pendulum swung from my hand, pulling me toward the south. I did my best to follow, glad of my hiking boots, which I’d bought a couple of years earlier with the conviction that I was going to get up at the crack of dawn every day and hike Runyon Canyon in the Hollywood Hills. That particular resolution hadn’t lasted very long, but at least I’d had the foresight to hang on to the boots instead of donating them the way I’d done with so many of my other belongings.
Despite the boots, I had to occasionally move slowly to maintain my footing. The cottonwood trees on either side of the water provided shade, but I realized it had been silly to come running out here without a bottle of water. Yes, there was the river, although I had a city girl’s wariness of drinking anything that hadn’t been filtered a hundred times. Who knew what might be living in there?
I shook my head at myself and trudged on. The pendulum still tugged at my hand, pulling me toward the south. I knew I needed to keep following it, even though I was already starting to feel as if this had been a crazy errand. What was I expecting to find? I knew that Calvin Standingbear’s team wouldn’t have left any evidence behind.
Physical evidence,I reminded myself. In places where people died violently, psychic residue often lingered. I hoped I’d be able to sense it, to get some kind of a read from those energies, even though I wasn’t technically a medium and didn’t have any real experience speaking with the dead.
About twenty yards down, the rocky bank smoothed itself into a stretch of coarse sand, almost like a miniature beach. Almost at once, I noticed footprints in that sand, and my heartbeat sped up a little. Was this where Lucien had been killed?
But even though I wasn’t a forensics expert, I could tell right away that the prints were of various sizes, and crisscrossed the miniature beach before heading into the stand of cottonwood trees that sheltered the spot. I guessed they must have been left behind by Calvin and his team, or maybe some locals who’d come here to fish. He’d said that was who found the body, after all — a couple of local men whose fishing plans probably hadn’t included walking onto a murder scene.
I didn’t have time to be disappointed, though. As I took another step onto the little beach, a stab of fear went through me like the proverbial knife. I stood stock still, body thrumming with flight-or-fight responses, even as I told myself it was all right, that I was alone and nothing could hurt me here.
Pain and shock and fear. They reverberated all around the spot, and I realized this truly was where Lucien had met his end, even if these footprints might not be his, even if his body was now miles away at the local medical examiner’s office.
I swallowed, and began to wonder whether this had been such a good idea after all. Despite my inner reassurances, I honestly didn’t know whether I was all that safe. What if Lucien’s vengeful ghost lingered in this place, just waiting for a chance to strike out at any hapless passersby?
But I wasn’t just any stranger, blundering onto this spot. We’d known each other in life, and if there was even a chance he’d begun to haunt the scene of his death, I needed to try to reach out to him.
