Fool's Deadly Gold

  Cover image: Door Lighting Old © releon8211. Courtesy of istockphoto.com

  Cover design copyright © 2019 by Covenant Communications, Inc.

  Cover design by Heidi Campbell

  Published by Covenant Communications, Inc.

  American Fork, Utah

  Copyright © 2019 by Clair M. Poulson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format or in any medium without the written permission of the publisher, Covenant Communications, Inc., P.O. Box 416, American Fork, UT 84003. The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Covenant Communications, Inc., or any other entity.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real, or are used fictitiously.

  First Printing: August 2019

  ISBN: 978-1-52440-997-5

  Prologue

  Cutler Pike squared off against Gus Colburn, whose stance mirrored his own: fists clenched, face—what could be seen around Colburn’s long gray hair and matching bumshy beard—burning scarlet with rage.

  The early-morning sun was shining brightly, casting long shadows through the forest. Even though it had been an unusually early and warm spring, snow still covered much of the higher country. The peaks were still pure white, but at this slightly lower elevation, there were only drifts in the shady spots, and there was mud in the trails and roads.

  “This is my claim, and ain’t nobody gonna trespass,” Gus said, pointing to the nearby hole in the ground. “Least of all you, Cutler.”

  “I ain’t trespassing,” Cutler countered. “There’s gold down there. I know I’ll find it. And I aim to mine it out. Nobody is going to stop me. So you better leave right now while you still can.”

  Gus, at fifty-five, was older than Cutler by a modest five years. He was a grizzled man who scrutinized the world around him through angry hazel eyes beneath bushy black eyebrows. He was a mean, stocky man who had spent time in prison for aggravated assault and felony DUI. The list of other arrests was long and ugly, as was his bulbous purple nose. But for the past ten years he’d managed to keep from being arrested, and he was used to getting his way.

  “I’ll kill you if you don’t leave now and stay plum away from here,” Gus threatened. “Ain’t nobody taking that gold down there but me.” He puffed out his chest, as if that would compensate for his short stature, and Cutler sneered, unintimidated.

  At six feet, Cutler towered six inches over his rival. Stocky himself, Cutler weighed a good fifty pounds more than Gus, and he was strong. His long-sleeved plaid shirt was bulging from his massive arm muscles.

  “I ain’t budging, old man,” he said through pursed lips. “I was here first, so you get in that muddy blue truck of yours and find your way back to the road. Now get, before I punch your lights out.”

  Cutler took every summer off from his work as a school custodian in Carbon County, Utah, to spend his time searching for the Lost Rhoades Gold Mines. He was the descendant of a close friend and confidant of the famous Caleb Rhoades. Cutler had grown up with stories of the lost mines, and he had amassed a store of knowledge about them. He knew he could find them, and there was no way he’d let the likes of Gus claim them.

  Cutler had met Gus in a bar in Hanna, just north of Tabiona. They’d both been drinking and had had a very heated argument about who was the better prospector, and a lasting hatred had been born. The cops had been called, but they’d both left before a deputy could get there.

  This meeting in the mountains was an extension of that earlier argument, only they were both sober now. Their tempers had simply reached the breaking point.

  Gus threw the first punch. He may have been short, but his arms were long. Some people in the bar in Hanna had called him an ape because of the way he looked with such disproportionately long arms, but they only called him that once. Then those long arms had left his sides like lead from a rifle and dealt out painful punishment faster than a striking rattler. And that’s what he did this time, connecting solidly with Cutler’s bushy face.

  But before the blood from Cutler’s split lip had time to appear, he put his own powerful arms to work. He hurled his large fists at lightning speed, and in a matter of seconds Gus lay groaning on the ground. He hadn’t even managed to get another punch in. Blood was gushing from his nose into his gray mustache and pouring freely into his dirty sideburns from splits on both ears.

  Cutler heaved Gus’s limp form up and over his shoulder and carried him to the filthy blue 2005 GMC Sierra. As he did so, the older man’s filthy ball cap fell to the ground.

  Gus tried in vain to do some damage to Cutler as he carried him, both fists flailing weakly, but the soft blows did nothing to Cutler’s hard body. Cutler tossed him into the driver’s seat of the truck; the thing had as many dents in it as Gus had years. Gus slumped over the steering wheel as Cutler slammed the door shut, and the whole truck shuddered under the force of the impact.

  The window was open, and Cutler glared at Gus when the man finally looked up. “You are a dead man if you ever cross my path again,” Cutler said. “Now turn that truck around and get off my claim.”

  “It’s my claim,” Gus countered as he fumbled with the key he had left in the ignition. “And I’ll be back to work it. And if you try to stop me, I’ll kill you and put your fat body where nobody will ever find it.”

  The old truck started up, spewing black smoke out the back, and a minute later the stocky miner was out of sight. Cutler Pike stood there watching, a rare smile parting his bleeding lips. He rubbed the blood away with the back of one hand and started back to the hole in the ground, the one he hoped would lead him to one of the famous Lost Rhoades Gold Mines that had been covered sometime in the past. He picked up Gus’s hat and threw it into the small campfire he’d built to warm himself against the cool air of the early mid-April morning. Then he removed his own filthy ball cap, and with a grimy red bandana from a rear pocket, he calmly wiped the sweat from his brow. The Uinta Mountains near the border of the wilderness area were as beautiful and peaceful as any place on the planet . . . or had been until Gus had shown up.

  A blue jay called noisily from a nearby fir. Cutler looked at it, and he scratched his bearded face. “We’ll show ’em whose gold that is down there,” he said with a chuckle. “And nobody, not Gus or even that school teacher, Dade Tansey, is going to touch my find.”

  He thought for a minute about Tansey. The man wasn’t like most of the people who came into the mountains searching for gold. He was educated, refined, and way too persistent. Cutler had done some research on the man after seeing him at this exact location several times. He considered him to be a threat to his success. He’d keep an eye out for the guy, and if he felt threatened by his persistence . . . well, he’d do something about it.

  Chapter One

  Six weeks later

  Dade Tansey was a school teacher who hunted for gold in the summers. His wife, Bridgette, and her younger sister, Lauralyn LaPlant, had no interest in hunting for gold, but they loved the exhilarating challenge of climbing challenging rock cliffs. They were both very good at it and went quite often when Dade was searching for gold.

  Today he was searching an area he had discovered a few days earlier where he thought he might find an opening to an ancient mine. The sisters had gone farther after he’d veered off the trail and found a promising cliff they’d never tried before.

  They were as close as two sisters could possibly be. When they went climbing, they were very careful but they also had a great deal of fun. They challenged each other, causing both of them to excel at their chosen sport. Bridgette had the full support of her loving husband and their young daughter, Lizzie, who was seven and constantly told her mother and aunt that she wanted to learn to climb like they did. They explained that she was too young, but when she was older, they would teach her.

  When the women reached the cliff they’d glimpsed from the trail, they looked up at it and smiled. “This is great,” Lauralyn said.

  “I’ll say. I can’t wait to get started,” Bridgette said, her eyes shining with delight.

  “Let’s walk around to the other side for just a bit and make sure this is the best place,” Lauralyn suggested.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  They laughed and chatted like teenagers as they walked around the huge cliff. “I think we found the best place already,” Bridgette said after about five minutes.

  “I think so too. Let’s go back and get started.”

  “I hope Dade’s having a good time,” Bridgette said as they hurried back the way they’d come.

  “You know he is,” Lauralyn said with a chuckle. “That man of yours loves looking for that elusive gold.”

  “From what he says, he might be onto something big this time,” Bridgette said. “It’s funny, Lauralyn, but he doesn’t care if he doesn’t make us rich. It’s just the hunt that he likes. I guess it gives him a rush like climbing does for you and me.”

  They reached the point where they’d dropped their packs near a large tree not too far from the base of the cliff and busied themselves getting ready to begin the ascent. “That shouldn’t take too long,” Bridgette said as she looked up. “What do you think? Does it look about a hundred feet to the top?”

  “I’d say a little more than that,” Lauralyn said as she also surveyed the cliff.

  Bridgette grinned
and said, “Hey, little sister, I have an idea. I’ll give you a five-minute head start, and then I’ll follow. If I can reach the top as soon as you do, you’ll owe me a steak dinner. If not, then I’ll buy for you.”

  Lauralyn laughed. “I’m game for that. But what about your hubby and little girl?”

  “The winner buys for all four of us,” Bridgette said. “Can you afford that?”

  “It won’t matter because there is no way you’ll catch me with a five-minute head start,” the younger sister said. “But I accept the challenge.” Then she grew sober for a minute and said, “Just as long as we’re still careful.”

  “That’s a deal,” Bridgette said. “You go ahead and get started. Five minutes and I’m behind you.”

  The women smiled at each other, then Lauralyn started up the cliff face. She’d made some reasonable progress by the time Bridgette called out to her. “Five minutes is up. I’m coming now. I’ll be waiting for you at the top.”

  “Fat chance,” Lauralyn called back down.

  For the next hour, they climbed. Bridgette, try as she might, only closed the gap between them a little bit. They continually talked back and forth, joking and having a great time as they carefully worked their way up. “You’ll never catch me,” Lauralyn called down to her sister. “Golly, I think Dade could do better than you.” She laughed as she fastened her rope to a piton she’d just driven in.

  “Dade won’t even try to climb,” Bridgette responded. “But I’m not beat yet.”

  An hour later, Lauralyn was within a foot from the top. Bridgette had slowed down and was farther behind than she had been at the beginning. Lauralyn, laughing, called out, “I’ve got this, sister. I’m reaching for the top now.” A minute or two later, she scrambled over the top.

  Lauralyn LaPlant did not see her sister fall, but she heard her scream.

  “Bridgette!” she called frantically as she looked over the edge of the cliff in a panic. She could see the blue-clad crumpled figure at the base of the cliff far below. “Bridgette!” she shrieked so loudly the sound echoed off the surrounding Uinta Mountains.

  Lauralyn checked her phone for reception to call for help, but it showed no service. All it told her was that it was shortly after eleven o’clock. So she descended the cliff as quickly as she dared, praying her sister was okay. When she got to Bridgette, Lauralyn found her conscious but unable to move. “What happened?” she asked as she tried to make her sister comfortable.

  “I . . . think . . . my . . . rope . . . broke. The piton . . . held . . . I’m sure.” Bridgette’s words were faint, and her breathing was labored.

  “B-but we checked the ropes,” Lauralyn stammered as tears welled in her eyes. She tried to think, to remain calm, but she felt near panic as she tried to assess her sister’s condition. She retrieved an emergency blanket from her pack and placed it over Bridgette. If Lauralyn could keep talking, maybe she could reassure Bridgette. Maybe she could reassure herself. “We checked all the ropes when we put them in the truck last night, and they were fine.” She took Bridgette’s hand—it was ice cold—and gently squeezed it. “Hold on, Bridge. You’ll be okay. Don’t try to move. I’ll go find a place where I can make a call and get help. Then I’ll be right back, okay? I promise.”

  Lauralyn was a superb athlete in top-notch physical condition, and she used every ounce of energy she could summon as she ran through the trees, jumped logs, and veered around other obstacles. She soon reached the trail she and Bridgette had hiked in on early that morning, the same spot from where they had seen the top of the cliff they’d chosen to scale. She picked up her pace after taking a sip of water from her water bottle and jogged down the trail. She wasn’t covering as much ground as she needed to, but the climb up and the descent had taken much of her energy. And the fear that filled her over her beloved sister’s fall had taken even more from her. But she was desperate, and she forged onward. She ate an energy bar and kept jogging.

  Lauralyn frequently checked her phone, but she had covered a good two miles before she finally got a signal. As soon as she did, she stopped and dialed 911 with trembling hands. The dispatcher in Vernal took her call and after listening to what she had to say, promised to get help on the way, including a Life Flight helicopter. Lauralyn was then instructed to stay where she was so rescuers could find her. She protested—she needed to get back to her sister and try to help her—but the dispatcher was firm.

  As soon as she hung up with the dispatcher, Lauralyn dialed her brother-in-law’s number and waited as the cell rang several times before going to voicemail. Dade Tansey had parted ways with the two women several hours earlier to get to a place he had staked out and filed a claim on days before. He was excited about what he might find that day.

  Dade, his wife, and his sister-in-law all loved the outdoors, and they especially loved the Uinta Mountains.

  Lauralyn was torn between staying to wait for rescuers and hurrying back to Bridgett. She paced back and forth, oblivious to the bright sun reflecting from the snowy peaks of the mountains, the cheerful chirping of a squirrel, the raucous chatter of a jay, and the soothing gurgle of a nearby stream. Normally she loved to see and listen to nature, but her fear for her sister drove those simple pleasures from her mind.

  After what seemed like an eternity, her phone rang. “Yes, hello?” she answered urgently.

  “Is this Lauralyn LaPlant?” a deep, serious voice asked.

  “It is.”

  “Hi, Lauralyn. This is Detective Roger Koltun. I’m just getting aboard a medical helicopter in Roosevelt and will be heading your way. Can you give me any directions?”

  Lauralyn knew Roger well; his daughter, Kimber, was best friends with Bridgette’s seven-year-old, Lizzie. They’d left Lizzie with Roger’s wife, as they often did, so the girls could play together while Lizzie’s parents and aunt were in the mountains pursuing their dreams.

  “I need to get back to Bridgette, Roger. She’s hurt badly. I can give you the GPS coordinates of where she is.”

  “That’s great. We’ll fly there directly,” he responded.

  She rattled off the coordinates and then said, “You probably won’t be able to reach me on the phone. I had to leave Bridgette to find reception.”

  Lauralyn started running back to where Bridgette had fallen. Fear drove her as fast as she dared to go on the rough trail. She slowed down when she had to leave the trail to head for the giant cliff, but she still arrived before the helicopter. She hurried to her sister and knelt beside her.

  “Bridgette?” she said gently, but Bridgette did not respond. Lauralyn touched her face. It was cold. Trembling, she pressed a finger to her sister’s neck to feel for a pulse. There was none. Lauralyn buried her face in her hands and cried bitter tears. She loved Bridgette more than anyone in her life. She felt like half of her was gone. She shook as she sobbed, feeling empty and lost.

  After a few minutes, she tried to collect herself and began to look around the area where Bridgette had fallen. A few feet away she spotted the tracks of what she thought must be a man’s work boots. They led from the sisters’ backpacks into the thick timber nearby.

  She shuddered. The tracks concerned her. Had someone else been here? Were they still here? Fear shot through her at the thought. She looked around again, peering as deeply into the trees as she could. She couldn’t see anyone, but she knew that didn’t mean someone wasn’t nearby.

  Being careful not to touch anything and to avoid stepping on the tracks, Lauralyn looked for the end of Bridgette’s rope, the end that was not still tied to a piton far above. After finding it a few feet from the base of the cliff, she stooped down and, without touching it, looked closely at it. She moaned at what she saw, and shivers rushed down her spine. The rope had been neatly sliced well over three quarters of the way through, and the remaining part had simply broken. As Lauralyn straightened up, she thought about the significance of what she had observed. The ropes had been in perfect condition when they had left town well before dawn that morning. They had both checked them carefully the previous evening, as they always did. And their climbing gear had been locked in the back of Dade’s truck in his garage until the trio had left that morning. There was no way the ropes could have been tampered with during the night. It had to have been done after they had arrived at the cliff. And it had to have been done by whomever the tracks belonged to. Lauralyn shivered again with fear, pulled her arms around her chest, and again looked around her, but still she saw no one.