Page 56 of Waylaid in Whittier

Millie shined her light along the front of the long low metal structure. “I don’t see any sets of beady eyes watching us. I think it’s safe.” Taking the lead, the women crept toward the building.

“I have my doubts about what we’ll find out here,” Annette said.

“Morley told reporters this mine held the key to Whittier’s gold. I’m looking for some sort of clue linking Carter, who I’m almost certain is related to him, to Wanda’s attack. My thought is maybe he hangs out here.”

“Ah.” Danielle snapped her fingers. “The younger Morley is trying to soak up some of his relative’s lucky vibes.”

“Something along those lines. Besides, we have nothing else to go on, short of breaking into the other miners’ RVs to search for the weapon,” Millie said.

“I wouldn’t take it off the table,” Annette said. “Searching this place is like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Back to Elvira. I think she should be here,” Danielle said. “I’ll help Sharky or any of my friends at the drop of the hat, but it seems to me we’re doing all her dirty work while she’s kicking back doing who knows what.”

“Knowing what little I do about the woman, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was at Mount Baldie tonight, scrambling to find gold,” Millie said.

“I hope you’re wrong.” Danielle swiped at a pile of dirt with the tip of her shoe. “I wonder what Sharky sees in that woman.”

“I think sometimes he wonders too,” Annette said.

Millie thought about their conversation while they were stuck in the elevator. Perhaps what it boiled down to was the fact Sharky knew he was getting older. Someday he would retire, and then what? He bought a houseboat and lived all alone?

Sharky was unique in his own way and, as he pointed out, he didn’t have much luck with women. Perhaps Elvira had come along, shown some interest in him and he jumped headfirst into a relationship without giving it much thought.

Or maybe her appeal was the distance between them. He wanted to be with someone, yet not have them too close.

“I don’t know if Elvira is the right person for Sharky, but maybe she’s the right person for now,” Millie said. “If this makes sense.”

“We’ll find out more about how well they get along if she leaves with us tomorrow.” Annette stepped in front of a row ofcement blocks running the length of the shed. “Those look like old washing stations.”

Millie shined her flashlight. “I think you’re right.” She beamed her light toward the ceiling, noticing an old wooden sign hanging from the rafters. “This place has been around for a long time.”

“Decades, I’m sure. Let’s spread out.”

The trio split up. Annette searched one side. Millie searched the other while Danielle took the center aisle.

Old tools, bits and pieces of equipment, along with stacks of wash pans were scattered about. It was almost as if the workers had left in the middle of a shift and never returned, leaving the mining site a snapshot frozen in time.

“Talk about tedious work.” Danielle picked up a trowel. “This wouldn’t be my dream job.”

“Mine either.” Millie finished making her way to the other end and waited for her friends to catch up. “I see some sort of outhouse or storage building over there.”

“Leave no stone unturned. We’re here. We might as well check it out.” Annette tiptoed through the thick grass while the other two trailed behind.

Millie circled the structure, inspecting the perimeter before reaching for the door handle. She twisted the knob. “It’s locked.”

“It has one of those old skeleton keyholes,” Annette said. “I bet if I had the right tool, I could pick this thing.”

“You’re in luck.” Millie reached into her body bag, pulled out a multipurpose tool, and handed it to her. “Sharky almost had this confiscated earlier.”

“If security sees it, they’ll flag it for sure,” Danielle said.

“I ran it by Suharto on my way out. He promised he would let me back through.”

“It pays to have friends in charge of security.” Annette began flipping through the various gadgets. “This might do the trick.” She inserted the Phillips-head screwdriver in the hole and wiggled it around. “Too big. I need something smaller.”

“Try the needle-nose pliers,” Millie suggested.

Annette extended the pliers, eased them into the opening, and wiggled them around. “This lock is one tough cookie.”

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