Free Washed Up (A Gracie Andersen Mystery Book 4) by Laurinda Wallace Page A

though, it looks like a quick hike. There are a couple of sketchy stories that Johnny Ringo of Tombstone fame hid up in the cave, with some other ne’er-do-wells, after robbing a stagecoach. Some say they left the loot hidden in the cave, planning to pick it up when things cooled down, but never did. Since we don’t have to haul any tools back, are you interested in giving it a look?”
    “Sounds intriguing. I’m in.”
    The path dissolved after about 10 minutes of hiking, leaving them in a small clearing.
    “Now what?” Gracie asked.
    “Uh … we keep going west, and then we should run into the Allen Trail a little ways over that ridge.”
    Gracie nodded, grateful that the ridge didn’t seem all that steep. Pictures of a real outlaw hideout would most certainly be a hot topic of conversation with folks back in Deer Creek. Maybe they’d stumble upon a gold coin or some other unique relic. Howie, her insurance agent, would go crazy. He was an Old West aficionado of gigantic proportions.
    Amanda’s pace slowed once they pushed through a grove of spicy-smelling junipers. A pair of scrub jays, in their bright blue plumage, settled in one, voicing objections at a human presence.
    “The trail is up this slope. There’s a small box canyon. You’ll see the entrance.”
    “Good. I was beginning to wonder about your ‘short hike,’” Gracie commented wryly.
    “Don’t worry. It’s worth it.”
    The trail wound down into a small canyon, lush with wildflowers, tall grasses, and oaks. The sound of running water greeted them. Gracie studied the area for the source. A rocky wash appeared with plenty of water, gurgling its way to the bottom of the mountain.
    “Here we are,” announced Amanda, stopping in front of a pile of massive boulders.
    “And where’s this cave entrance?” Gracie shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare.
    “Right through here.”
    Gracie followed as Amanda clambered through a natural Stonehenge.
    Several precariously stacked boulders effectively hid the arrowhead-shaped cave entrance.
    “Watch your step,” Amanda called, picking her way through the rock-strewn floor. “Do you have a flashlight with you?”
    “No. Do you?”
    “I’ve got one. Come on. We can go a little farther back.”
    “What about bats?”
    Gracie was quite sure she didn’t want to meet up with any flying rodents.
    “I’ve never seen any here,” Amanda switched on her small LED flashlight. “But there’s always the first time.” She chuckled and led the way.
    The cave walls trickled with moisture and the drop in temperature was instantly refreshing. Soon, the rocky floor gave way to a sandier surface with less to trip over. The ceiling was high enough for the average man to walk under without stooping. Cracks in the rock offered more light from the ceiling and she could smell fresh air entering the chamber overhead.
    “No wonder it’s so damp in here.” Gracie pointed to the shots of sunshine, exposing water that trickled down the walls.
    “This is the only spot where there’s a skylight. Look over here. Everyone says this is where the outlaws and possibly Apaches had their campfires.”
    A ring of stones, with fragments of charred wood, was positioned in a spacious alcove tucked back from the main chamber. Smoke stains on the walls attested to cooking fires. A few battered, rusty cans, which probably held beans at one time, were scattered near the stones.
    “This cave isn’t on any of the maps and is off the trail, so it’s not bothered by hikers very often,” Amanda explained.
    “Let me get a picture of this.” Gracie pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.
    With Amanda directing her flashlight on the area, she clicked several photos.
    Something clattered from the entrance, startling them. Amanda extinguished her flashlight when they heard the faint echo of voices.
    “Who’s that?” whispered Gracie.
    “I think it’s Alex and Justin. Listen.”
    The voices grew louder. Amanda pulled