more dramatic.

“I’ve never seen a slot canyon before,” said Corrie.

“They’re pretty dramatic. But they can also be dangerous. I was once caught in a flash flood in a slot canyon, years ago in Utah. It was probably the most terrifying experience of my life.”

“How did that happen?”

“I was leading an archaeological expedition to a prehistoric cliff dwelling. You could only get to it through a single slot canyon. A flash flood came through, loud and violent as a dozen freight trains … ” She halted, wondering why she was suddenly telling this painful story, to an FBI agent of all people. “Anyway,” she hastily added, “there’s no possibility of rain today—I checked. And the ruin we’re going to isn’t in the slot canyon, but above it.”

The canyon walls were now narrowing sharply, throwing them in cool shadow. The air smelled of sandstone, and indirect light filtered down, shrouding them in a warm glow. It was, Nora thought, a bit like entering a cave.

“So what do you know about this place?” Corrie asked.

“As I mentioned, the Spanish built a mission here, at a Tewa pueblo called Tziguma. The Tewas joined in the Pueblo Revolt and destroyed the church. The place was ultimately abandoned, and nobody’s paid much attention to it since … except treasure hunters, maybe. It isn’t considered an important archaeological site.”

Now they were in the heart of the canyon. The sheer stone walls twisted this way and that, polished by countless floods, the floor a clean bed of sand.

Corrie stretched out her hands. “You can touch both sides. This is amazing.”

“This section is the so-called Fishhook,” said Nora. “When we come out on the far side, there’s a trail that climbs up to the top of the mesa, where the ruins are.”

A quarter mile along, the canyon spread out again and light once more penetrated the gloom. The canyon walls disappeared and they emerged among a series of low mesas.

“I can’t help but think,” said Corrie, “that maybe Gower must have found that cross while hunting for treasure. Maybe in the ruins of that mission church.”

“I doubt it. We’re hell and gone from High Lonesome.”

The trail crossed the wash and began winding its way up a ridge to the top of a mesa. It was a short, steep climb, and then they passed through a layer of rimrock before coming out on top.

“This is it,” said Nora. “The ruins are over there to the right.”

“I don’t see anything.”

“You see where there’s a change of vegetation? Where cactus and saltbushes are growing on those lumpy piles of stone and earth? That’s it.”

“But where’s the church?” Corrie took off her backpack and pulled out a copy of the photo.

Nora peered over her shoulder, toward a large mound of earth. “That’s the church; you can tell from the outline.”

Corrie put the photo away, and they walked into the ruins. Potsherds and flint chips lay everywhere, mingled with broken building stones, weeds, and scattered anthills.

“Look at this!” Corrie picked up a big painted potsherd.

“Very nice, but I’m afraid you need to put that down,” said Nora. “We’re not supposed to touch anything.”

“Oops. Sorry.” She put it back.

They walked toward the larger mound. Closer up, Nora could see a massive wall of adobe that had collapsed and eroded, thickly covered with saltbushes. At the far end stood a pillar of adobe—the only part of the wall left standing. They climbed up the mound, scaring off a bunch of crows, which rose into the air screeching and cawing before landing in a nearby pi?on tree.

They peered down into the area that was once the nave of the church. “Hey, people have been digging here,” said Corrie. “And some of those holes look fresh.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Nora. “You get looters at many archaeological sites in New Mexico. Most of them are too remote to protect.”

“You think they were digging for treasure? Could be where Gower found the cross?”

“I suppose it’s possible he was digging here long ago. There must be a reason that aerial photo was hidden in the house.”

A sharp sound cracked through the ruins, and Nora saw a geyser of dust shoot up to their right.

“Down!” Corrie yelled, but Nora was already diving behind the interior slope of the wall. They landed hard on the ground, among the bushes, as more cracks sounded, one shot striking the adobe pillar with a spray of dirt and others clipping a bush on their left.

“This way!” Corrie hauled Nora to her feet, and they ran to the adobe pillar, then threw themselves down behind it.

Nora saw that Corrie had her handgun out. A moment passed while they breathed hard.

“The shots came from that ridge over there,” Corrie said.

“What the hell? They couldn’t be shooting at us.”

“They damn sure are.”

Nora felt her shock turning to fear and panic. “But why?”

Corrie didn’t answer. Instead, she crawled to the edge of the pillar and peered around, through a screen of bushes.

Another shot rang out, and she pulled back. “Shit! We’re pinned down.” She checked the chamber of her gun, making sure it contained a round.