Fred didn’t move from the table, where he watched Bonnie and the pizza.
“No, and I really don’t care unless they have Julie’s book and ring. I have no intention of bringing Appleton’s killer to justice; that’s a job for the police. All I want is to get Julie’s property back. In the meantime, I’ve got to get back to the how-to book I’ve been writing, unless you have a better idea.”
She silently handed me the pizza box. “What about the treasure? I’m sure if you put that great mind of yours on it, you could decode that riddle without even thinking about it.”
I smiled at her unwitting contradiction. “I have thought about it, and came to the conclusion it’s a hoax so Paul Wilson can sell more books. There is no lost gold, Bon.”
Bonnie looked at me smugly, the way a child does when arguing with a parent. “Not according to Patty. She said she knew about it long before Wilson found the newspaper article. She remembers her father telling stories about how it was a big thing back in the twenties. Wilson didn’t make that up.”
***
Fred and I finished off the pizza somewhere around two in the morning. I couldn’t concentrate on my chapter dealing with the importance of proper attic ventilation, so we had a cold snack before returning to my computer. I’d convinced myself that Julie would understand if she was watching. It was only one slice.
Bonnie’s remark about Patty kept getting in the way, or maybe it was the thought of how much two hundred pounds of gold would be worth in today’s market. If Appleton had decoded the original code, then what did the decoded message mean?
The words ‘Blood sucking bug pass’ were staring at me from Appleton’s notebook paper. My how-to book had given way to finding the message and spending the last hour trying to solve the riddle. I even went so far as searching the Rocky Mountain News archives to find a copy of the original article, but got sidetracked about an article on a preacher who had crossed Mosquito Pass in snowshoes during the winter.
Father Dyer had become a legend for preaching to the mostly deaf ears of miners about the sins of gambling, drinking, and prostitution. My interest piqued when I read an article where he nearly died from a trip over Mosquito Pass in the winter when his feet froze during a bitter-cold snowstorm.
That’s when it hit me. Pass referred to a mountain pass. If Drake was on his way to Leadville it had to be Mosquito Pass, a bloodsucking bug pass.
My first thought was to call Bonnie back and brag about unraveling the enigma. Then I had a flash image of someone listening to our phone messages. Now I knew how treasure hunting could lead to paranoia, and chided myself for being bit by gold fever. I decided to tell her tomorrow during coffee instead of calling, just to play it safe in case the NSA was listening.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Fred saved Bonnie from having to clean her kitchen floor when he ate the scrambled eggs she’d dropped after I told her about discovering the location of Drake’s gold. “What are we waiting for, Jake? We need to get up there before someone else does!”
I should have waited until after breakfast before telling her. She didn’t seem to notice the plate was empty when she set it in front of me. “What’s this, we? Margot would have my scalp if I ever took you to the top of that pass. Do you have any idea what the lack of oxygen at that altitude can do to a chain smoker?”
She looked over at a pack of cigarettes on the table then picked it up. “I can go without you, you know,” she said while tapping the pack to make a filter tip appear.
Not wanting another argument like we had the other day when she had insisted on going to Appleton’s cabin, I tried to change the subject. “Not on an empty stomach, Bon. Besides, I think I should verify the code from another copy of Tom Sawyer before going off half-cocked,” I said, pointing to my plate.
She took one look at my plate and then looked down at Fred, who was patiently sitting at her side waiting for more eggs. “What’s there to verify?” she asked, patting him on the head and smiling. “What else can blood sucking pass mean? Any school kid can see that. If we don’t get our butts up there right away, someone else is going to beat us to the treasure.”
I got up from the table with my empty plate and went over to the counter by her range. “We’re the only ones besides Appleton who knows the deciphered code, and I doubt if he’s going up there anytime soon.” I knew the only way I was going to get breakfast was to make it myself, so I started cracking more eggs into Bonnie’s mixing bowl.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because he’s dead, Bon.”
“Not, Appleton! Jeeze, Louise, don’t be so dense. How can you be so sure someone else hasn’t decoded the message already? That author, what’s his name, didn’t strike me as no dummy, and then there’s those punk kids.”
“Paul Wilson. I suppose it’s possible now that you mention it. He must have known about Father Dyer. Good thing he didn’t have the key, or I’m sure he would have figured it out by now. But I don’t see how those kids could solve a Ranger Rick crossword puzzle, let alone decode Drake’s message.”
“The key? Oh I get it, the right book is the key.”
I picked out another egg and cracked it on the side of the bowl. “Do you want two or three?”
Bonnie quit playing with her cigarettes and came over to the range. “Just two, and get yourself more coffee while I cook these. Then we’re going up there together, whether you like it or not.”
“Okay, Bon, you win. But we take my Jeep this time.” I knew if I didn’t give in, she would go without me.
***
We were lost, and my Jeep was hissing at us for lack of water by the time we made it to Fairplay.
“Stay on highway two eighty-five for point five more miles, then turn right on highway nine and proceed toward Breckinridge.” Lucy, the name Julie had given my GPS because it was always sending us in the wrong direction, was trying to make herself heard over the knocking of the engine. Julie had said the GPS reminded her of Lucille Ball in the old movie The Long Long Trailer because that Lucy was always sending Ricky in the wrong direction, too.
I didn’t have a clue where to find the pass between Fairplay and Leadville, but couldn’t let on to Bonnie that I was lost, so I told Lucy what I thought of her directions and unplugged her to shut her up.
Bonnie interrupted my discourse with Lucy when she spotted an old-fashioned gas station. “They might have water, Jake, and I’m sure someone can tell you how to get to Mosquito Pass.”
“I’m afraid those service stations went out with black-and-white TV,” I said, but pulled in anyway. To my amazement, it did have a water spigot and air hose at the end of the island. I also noticed the pumps didn’t take credit cards. I felt like we must have entered a time-warp.
Fred barked and started pacing back and forth on the rear seat.
“Do you mind taking him over there while I give the old Jeep a drink?” I asked, pointing to a patch of grass on the side of the station.
They weren’t gone two minutes when a real, live attendant came out from the service bay after I had the hood open. I’d expected to see Goober from the Andy Griffith Show, but this guy was the complete opposite. He could have been Appleton’s twin, except his tattoos were barely recognizable underneath the grease and oil on his arms.
“Be careful there, buddy,” he said. “Better use my rag on that cap, so she don’t scald you when you open it.” He wiped his hands on the rag before offering it to me. I couldn’t help notice it made his hands dirtier.
“Thanks, but it’ll be okay once I let the pressure off,” I said, turning the cap a quarter turn so it would release the pressure but not fly off.