Nora pulled on her jacket and came out. The night air was chilly. Nobody else had heard anything.

“I saw it—off in the trees,” Maggie was saying loudly. “A green light. Moving.”

“A flashlight?” Burleson asked.

“No. And then I swear I heard a voice. It sounded like someone trying to shout—a gurgling shout.”

Burleson put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure it wasn’t another nightmare?” he asked gently. “They found Samantha’s missing leg bone today. Is that on your mind?”

“I swear to God…” She broke down, sobbing loudly, shoulders heaving.

“There, it’s okay,” said Burleson, putting his arm around her.

“Where’s Wiggett?” Clive suddenly asked.

“He’s a hard sleeper,” Burleson said, and then after a moment: “Let me check.”

His flashlight went weaving off into the darkness. A moment later his voice came back: “He’s not in his tent.”

Burleson returned to the group. “His boots are gone, PJs tossed on the cot. He must have gotten dressed and gone out.”

There was a silence. “Maybe it was his voice I heard,” Maggie said. “It kind of sounded like it.”

Burleson shook his head with annoyance. “He may be looking in on the horses. I’m going to check the corral.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Nora.

But Wiggett was not at the corral. The two returned to find an anxious group waiting for them.

“All right,” said Burleson. “I think we’d better have a look around.”

“I’ll bet he was out there looking for the gold,” said Maggie. “You know, he wouldn’t stop talking about it when you all were away from camp.”

“Let’s all get dressed and meet back here in five.” Burleson looked around. “Everyone needs to pair up, and then we’ll do a quick search. Nobody goes anywhere alone.”

Clive turned to Nora. “You and me?”

She nodded.

39

May 18

AS THEY ASSEMBLED in the chilly dark, dressed and ready, someone chucked some brush on the coals. The fire flared up, painting their faces in flickering yellow light. In the darkness of the trees, an owl gave a series of low hoots, like the tolling of a bell.

“All right,” said Burleson. “Everyone got headlamps?”

There was a chorus of assent.

“Nora, Clive, you go up to the dig site. Bruce and Jason, follow them up the trail, then cut east and search the area around the tarn. I’m going to scour the immediate vicinity of the camp with Maggie.”

He looked around, firelight gleaming in his eyes. “Don’t go far. Be careful and stay together. There’s always the chance someone else is out there.”

He flashed his headlamp on his watch. “It’s three twenty. We’ll search for an hour. Meet back here at four twenty—sharp.”

Nora and Clive set off up the now-familiar trail leading to the dig site, Adelsky and Salazar close behind. Nora took the lead, hiking fast. It was a dark night, with a heavy cloud cover casting an inky blackness over the mountains. It was like swimming through a sea of darkness with only tiny circles of light to guide them. The night was full of sound—the breath of wind in the treetops, the calling of owls, the chirping of crickets, and the occasional eructation of a bullfrog along the stream.

“I feel like we’re cursed,” said Clive bitterly. “No sooner do we celebrate our success—with champagne, no less—than this happens.”

“We don’t know if anything has happened,” said Nora. “Maybe Wiggett just quit and took off, like Peel.”

“Without his horse? No way.”

“Maybe it’s like Maggie said and he’s out there searching for the gold.”

“If he is, you can bet Burleson’s going to have words with him.”

They emerged from the trees into the broad meadow of the Lost Camp. Ahead she could barely make out the rectangle of gray that marked the work tent. The cliffs were like black walls, the sky almost as dark. Adelsky and Salazar headed off in the direction of the tarn. Nora looked around for the gleam of Wiggett’s flashlight, in case he was searching the cliffs, but all she could see was blackness.

“Let’s check the tent,” Clive suggested.

They approached the tent, which loomed out of the darkness in the beams of their headlamps. Untying the flap, Nora entered. All was exactly as they had left it. They next inspected the excavation area, tarped over and pegged down. It, too, looked undisturbed.

Clive glanced around, as if trying to pierce the darkness. “I guess that just leaves the cliffs,” he said.

They hiked over and began making their way along the base of the cliffs, shining their lights up and around the stone flanks. But there was no sign of Wiggett, and the heavy dew that lay on the grass also looked undisturbed. When they had finished examining one side of the cliffs they went across to the other, but again found no sign of the wrangler.

“He wasn’t up here,” Nora said. “Which sort of eliminates the idea he was searching for the gold.”

“Unless,” Clive said, “he had his own ideas about where it was hidden.”

“Could be.” Nora checked her watch. “It’s been almost an hour. We’d better head back.”

Even as she spoke, she heard a scream coming from down the canyon. It went on and on, echoing grotesquely among the peaks before trailing off.

“Oh Christ,” said Clive.

They started for the trail at a jog and the forest quickly closed in on them. Their headlamps stabbed into the darkness, tree trunks illuminated one by one as they passed like columns in an endless cathedral. As they approached the camp, Nora could make out, alongside the stream, a cluster of lights and uneasy voices ringing across the night. Another piercing scream erupted, the voice now distinguishable as Maggie’s.

They turned off the trail and jogged toward the lights. They found the rest of the group gathered at the base of the cliffs near the camp. Maggie was breathing loudly between sobs, leaning on Burleson.

“In there,” said Burleson, shining his headlamp at a broad crack at the base of the cliffs. Nora went over and made out a hiking boot, grotesquely wedged into the crack. Peering deeper, she could see a body, soaking wet.

Wiggett.

“What the hell?” said Clive, peering in beside her. “Who found him?”

Maggie hiccupped. “Samantha showed us.”

“Come now,” said Burleson sharply.

“I saw the light. The greenish light, it led us over here. You saw it, too!”

“It was just the reflection from our headlamps on something,” Burleson said impatiently. “For God’s sake, let’s get him out of there.”

Nora, Clive, and the rest started pulling out loose rocks that had been piled into the crack in a feeble attempt to hide the body. Wiggett had been shoved in upright, arms dangling. Nora seized an arm—it was cold and damp—and pulled, while Clive and Burleson grabbed a leg and the other arm. After a struggle, they managed to slide his body out of the crevice and lower it onto the grass. His eyes were staring and his mouth open, a dribble of water draining out from his lips.