Lost and Forgotten Ch. 02

"I'm sorry to have ruined your buzz." I said, and Warlock laughed. "Can I still look around?"

"Mi casa es su casa." Warlock said with a warm smile and a grand sweeping gesture of his arms. "Oh shit! I almost forgot!" He declared slamming his palm on the surface of the counter. "The killings... they stopped when the tunnel was closed."

That fact sent fresh chills through me. There had to be a connection between the mountain and the deaths, but what. Few records survived from that time and those documents held scant details on the manners of the deaths or who was responsible. How had I missed that obvious connection? Had the killings begun when the tunnel work had started? I would have to reexamine the files and see. If they had what did it mean? Was there someone that held the mountain as sacred and by digging the tunnel had it driven them to kill? It was one of myriads of possibilities. Everyone from that time were long dead and no one related to them was talking. It could wait until after the festival when there were less people in town and I wasn't so popular. Jynx and I moved through the tables and shelves. He really did have a wide variety of knickknacks. Jynx picked up a thin hard bound book and opened it. She showed it to me and the title was intriguing.

"In the Shadow of the Monolith." Jynx muttered and Warlock perked up.

"Self-published." He said as he took another hit from his pipe. "I think the author signed it before his suicide."

"Yeah, here it is... Antonio Cabrini. It looks like a first edition." Jynx continued.

"Only edition." Warlock fired back soberly. "No one ever picked up his work and reproduced it. I'll let you have it for twenty bucks. Don't blame me if you have nightmares though. Pretty dark stuff. It is one of the two self-published books I have. The other is a book on music and magic by an Irish fella. Ogham and the Old Ones or something like that. I read it a long time ago. He believed he had translated the markings on certain standing stones across the UK and Europe. He thought Ogham wasn't a written language but a musical one. He believed they were ancient songs and spells. Great for the new age crowd. He only published a dozen or so copies."

We went to the counter and Jynx set the book of poems down. Warlock rang up the sale and handed me an empty bag. I looked down and the bottom of the plastic bag was tearing. I placed it in the fresh bag and thanked Warlock. We unlocked the door but when Jynx reached for the sign he told her to leave it. He was taking a long lunch. We giggled and left with a book of poems for Jynx and a mystery for me to ponder. I was hungry, and we returned to the hotel to go over our purchases and do some online research. There was surprisingly little on the deaths that occurred in Nightshade all those years ago. While the deaths were documented in a very clinical way listing names, ages, and survivors. What was lacking in every case was the cause of death and any resolution. It appeared to have been a mystery then and remained one today. The physical records might hold more information but they have been lost for decades, how convenient for the powers that be.

After a light lunch Jynx and I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the town. We took a break near dusk and sat on a bench that gave us a clear view of the northern portion of the mountains. I told her it was this part that intrigued me. It was there that the tunnel had been dug and the collapse had occurred. I described in detail the paths that were open to us and how we could get a great view of the town from a mountain lake located on a southern facing plateau. When she asked me how I knew so much I told her I had memorized an old survey map of the entire mountain range. She pulled out a map she had gotten from one of the shops we had visited and wanted me to point out where the lake was.

"A little skinny dipping might be fun." She giggled as I unfolded the map.

"It is right..." I said and then noticed several discrepancies on the map. "...it's not there. The lake isn't on the map. There are several paths that are missing as well. Where did you get this?"

"There was a visitor center next to that store where I bought those panties you liked so much." Jynx said winking at me.

"Let's go. I need to talk to someone at the visitor center." I said. "After that you can model those panties for me."

It was a short walk back to the visitor center. The man behind the desk was young and said that the maps were ordered by his supervisor. She wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning. I thanked him and, on the walk back to the hotel Jynx's stomach rumbled. We detoured to a quaint little diner I had noticed earlier. I ordered a burger and fries while Jynx had a sandwich with a salad. I noticed the short squat figure of Mr. Dworkin skulking in the corner of the diner. I waved him over and he gleefully joined us. He apologized for following us, but he wanted to know more about the dead man's letter.

"I guess there is no harm in sharing." I said and Jynx just smiled as she ate. "Missouri came here to find the Last Miskatonic. Apparently, he was a shaman or something. He performed a vision quest ceremony for Smith and whatever he saw allowed him to write the letter and deliver it to his lawyers. They held onto it until now. Not much else to say really."

"The lighter," Dworkin said as he set down his own burger. "I sent that drawing of yours to a friend of mine. He recognized the design and was able to track down the jeweler that made the lighter case for Missouri. It is quite distinctive. He spoke to the jeweler's son." He paused long enough to take a sip of soda. "It is called an Elder Sign. It is used to ward off evil. I believe it was his good luck charm."

"Elder Sign huh," I muttered. "Why the hell does that sound so familiar?"

We finished our meal and we talked about the tunnel and its collapse. Dworkin knew a little more about McClintock than I did. He wasn't just an engineer but also was a friend and correspondent with none other than H.G. Wells. There were hints that Wells would pick the Scotsman mind for story ideas or to see if they were feasible. Suddenly I remembered where I had heard that phrase before.

"Elder Sign!" I hissed under my breath so as not to alert the other customers. "I remember now."

"Well?" Jynx asked smiling. "Don't be like that. You remembered something important."

"You need to listen and not ask any questions. Otherwise..." I threatened but Dworkin held his hands up and readily agreed. "Fine. I told you I thought it sounded familiar. I read about it in one of his journals."

"Journals... as in plural. You have more than one of them." Dworkin whispered.

"I have two complete diaries as well as his last one. I also have several field journals, maps, and a couple dozen personal items including his lighter." I reluctantly admitted. "I remember it all now."

"Holy shit John," Jynx cursed under her breath. "How?"

"No. No details on that. The important thing is that he paid the jeweler through the nose to have that lighter crafted of the finest materials. He even hired a professor from Miskatonic University to perform a ritual while the jewel inscribed the design on the lighter. Something scared the crap out of him so bad he felt he had to take precautions."

"What else do you have?" Dworkin asked with that beaming fan boy expression on his face.

"Might as well." Jynx urged me.

"I'll tell you this and then you forget we ever talked. No blogging, vlogging, or sharing this with another soul. I'll know it was you. Got it?" I snarled, and he again agreed without hesitation. "I... I have his Thompson Submachinegun." I whispered, and Dworkin's eyes went wide in shock. "Keep a lid on this or else."

"I promise. No one would believe me anyway. Most of his belongings were donated to the Smithsonian decades ago." Dworkin explained. "Where did you buy all of these things?"

"I didn't. I found them. I never heard of him until after I began researching the journals. It was that connection that got me an interview with his family." I said, and Dworkin sat up straight.

"You are holding something back." Dworkin said and Jynx was nodding. "It must be pretty big."

"I can't say anything. If you want to know more talk to the family. I made a promise to them." I said feeling a hint of betrayal already. I texted mom to make sure she was okay and to ask her a favor. She readily agreed and promised me it would be finished as quickly as she could. "That's a load off my mind. Oh, sorry just checking up on my mom."

We finished eating and the conversation shifted to the festival that was starting tomorrow. Dworkin mentioned that it was his tenth time attending. It had gotten bigger each year earning the shop owners and the community in general a great financial boost outside skiing season. Snow was their cash cow and the town lived off it. I asked him about the mountain lake and he looked at me confused.

"There is no mountain lake John." Dworkin declared quite adamantly. "I've been coming here for ten years and that is just an urban legend."

"Explain." I said as I looked at the dessert menu.

"Supposedly about twenty years ago or so a girl's body was found on the side of the mountain. She had fallen to her death, but the coroner marked the cause of death as drowning. That's when the rumors of a hidden lake emerged. The case was closed, and it became a local legend. Why do you ask?"

"I memorized an old surveyor's map of the entire mountain range. It clearly shows a lake up on the northern slope. There is a plateau about two thirds of the way up and that is where the lake is. None of the current maps show it though. The paths leading to it have been omitted."

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Jynx said looking at the exit where a middle-aged man was racing down the street away from the diner. "I think he heard you John."

"Somebody in town is hiding that lake, but why?" I asked.

"Old Man Wallenstein." Dworkin said softly. "He doesn't exactly own this town but damn near."

"Let's see," I said as I took out my phone. "Wallenstein. Ooh... interesting. His grandfather made his fortune in the stock market and his children did too. It looks like he is worth a bit. Let's have a look at his financials." I muttered as Jacen dug deep into the money flowing in and out of the family coffers. "Why doesn't someone just take a helicopter and scout the mountain?"

"You wouldn't know," Dworkin explained. "The entire mountain is a no-fly zone. No one knows why but unless there is a medical emergency it won't happen. The strange part is that the old man tried to buy part of the mountain but couldn't. It is all public land and protected. The death of all those people aboard the train and the fact that the government wants to maintain it as a national park keeps his fingers out of that pie. He owns a shit ton of property bordering the mountain though."

My phone chirped, and I looked at the report that Jacen had created for me. The results were alarming. I tried to hide my shock but failed miserably. I slipped my phone into my pocket and ordered a pierce of pie. The phone chirped a second time with a message that read 'Satellite flyby tomorrow 1400 hours'. Jacen was efficient. I would know what the hell was going on but until then I would relax and enjoy my vacation.

"Let's hit the bar." I suggested.

Dworkin took a pass, so it was just Jynx and me. As we walked to the Watering Hole for a drink Jynx told me I looked tense. I admitted that I was a little nervous. The bar was full of locals as well as Missouri Smith fans eager for the festival to begin. We started off at the bar and listened to all the stories about Smith's adventures. I fought the urge to correct them when they got a fact wrong I think it was the teacher in me. After reading the diaries and field journals I had what I considered an encyclopedic knowledge of Smith's adventures in his own words. We moved about the bar and everywhere we sat new stories took shape and it warmed my heart that his legacy and memory were in good hands.

"I wonder if I should publish the journals." I muttered after a few drinks.

"What would you do with the money they generate?" Jynx asked leaning close.

"I'd give it to the family of course. It belongs to them." I said and felt a dilemma building inside of me. "I found those diaries, but don't they really belong to his family?"

"Have they asked for them?" Jynx asked her hand settling on my lap. "Maybe they know the diaries are in good hands, your hands. MMMMM... those gentle hands of yours."

"I need to get rid of some stress." I whispered in her ear.

"I volunteer." She purred.