Pigeon Blood Red

By Mary Cote

It was supposed to be a routine inspection of Cabochon Incorporated’s interests in Tasmania. However, when Ryan Matthews arrives at the Ravishing Ruby mine, he instead finds himself caged, surrounded by carnivorous marsupials and entwined in murder, kidnapping, drug dealing and fraud. Instead of being surrounded by lustrous red gemstones, his world becomes one of opium poppies, spilled blood and sacrificial pigeons. His wife, Andi, and his best friend, Brad, must come to his rescue, aided by a collection of characters and wild animals as diverse as the island itself as they uncover the criminal connections to both the mine and the local police.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M2K Publishing
• Release date: Nov 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781927044797

Mary Cote

Mary writes her books while sitting under a cherry tree in the middle of nowhere, British Columbia, gaining inspiration from her two sons, and Herbert the WonderDog.

Book preview

Chapter 1 – Tropical Fever

It’s too cold. What the hell is going on? Ryan Matthews squeezed his eyes tight in concentration. The violent trembling of his extremities worked against him. I’ve been taught to deal with this. He forced his thoughts back to the frigid lessons and intense conditions all Navy SEALs were put through then tried again to move his arms. They were lead weights, impotent beside him. He struggled to move a leg. The repeated efforts were to no avail, other than to remind him of every ache and pain coursing through his body.

The muscles that he spent hours toning daily were failing him. They had forgotten the work they were able to do. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry, as were his eyes, making it excruciating to allow the lids to slide across the surface, but waging the war to open them was a waste of resources. He had already discovered that from this vantage point there was nothing to see that could help him.

What’s the last thing I remember? He fought against the pounding in his head, the throbbing in his temples. His hand wanted to rub some relief into his scalp but wouldn’t move. He growled in frustration. Australia. I remember arriving in Tasmania. He frowned. I have to still be here, but where… and why? Knowing the pain it would cause, and the futility of the effort, he forced his eyes open again. He was in a dark place, shadowy and cool with a strong odor that he was unable to identify. His frustration boiled – a tempest in a teapot as he once again drifted off on a sea of his own sweat.

He was floating, stretched out on his back, the sun shining warmly on his face, the waves beneath him undulating like a hula dancer’s hips. Her warm arms surrounded him, stopping the shivers. He smiled, but only for a moment. The sun began to burn. More sweat formed on his face, his chest and around his neck. He wanted to pull his clothes away from his body to allow the cool air to rescue him, but still couldn’t move. Now I’m hearing voices? The thought vanished again.

As soon as he had warmed up, he began to cool off again. A wind from somewhere was causing him to shiver, but it made no sense that he should feel any wind at all; he was inside a building that he had never been in before.

A face pressed close to his. Female? It was round and wrinkled, with an abundance of hair growing on the top lip, but still he believed it to be feminine. In his present state, though, he knew he could depend on nothing that he thought was real. He had no idea where reality ended and fantasy began.

The mouth coming nearer to him was flat-lined. Small, dark eyes had a glimmer of fear and concern in them. The voice was gravelly as it reassured Ryan that he would be alright, that he was being taken care of. He felt a blanket being pulled over his body, being tucked under his chin. He sighed as the trembling again stopped. This time he fought the resulting need for sleep and rejuvenation. He knew that as quickly as the shivers subsided, the sweats would follow.

Sadly, his hula dancer did not reappear. He was not transported to the warm, welcoming waters of the Pacific. He refused to let himself go there again. He had a job to do, a mission to accomplish. The first step was to understand where he was and how he came to be here. He needed to know who this person was who was tending to him, and who she talked to when she issued her orders.

With Navy SEAL concentration, he remembered arriving in Tasmania and his reason for being at the Ravishing Ruby mine. There was no reason for him to be interacting with this woman. There had been nothing untoward about his trip or his work. How did he make the leap from the mine to a stinky, cold, dark room?

He strained to hear more of what was being said. There were two distinct voices that were overpowered by the background noise, lost in a cacophony of groans, howls and yelps. Eavesdropping was not a possibility.

He lifted up his head only for a fraction of a second. Intense burning like a hot javelin being driven into his brain radiated from somewhere behind his ear, almost coming through his left eye. He wanted to remember what he might have done to cause the pain, but nothing came to him.

The voice grew louder. She was coming to him again, but this time she held a hypodermic syringe in her hand. Inside was an opaque substance, maybe white in color but Ryan couldn’t be sure in the dismal lighting. Once more his training kicked in. He had spent much of his time in the Navy as a medical aide. What the hell? His mind tried to scan through the bottles and vials in Doc Maddock’s drug locker, trying to shortlist what drugs it might be. Jesus, even if I can think of what it might be, there’s no way of knowing. It could be any fucking cocktail she’s brewed up.

He fought to get away, finally realizing that his arms were restrained. The fever-induced fog prevented him from moving effectively, but now he knew that it was not his muscles letting him down in his time of need. He tried to kick. His legs must have also been tied down. He was helpless. Even his mouth was too dry to allow him to scream, not that it would have made a difference.

Adam, hold him still. He’s twitching too much.

Yes, Australia. Her accent made the Crocodile Hunter sound normal; it was thick and drawn out, especially at the vowels. Ryan tensed as the needle sank into his shoulder. He could feel the thick, cool contents empty into his tissue. Now he could only wait to learn what she had administered.

For the first time, he was aware that he had no shirt on. She knelt beside him… only a thin mattress, or maybe a blanket, separated him from the hard concrete floor. Based on the draft and cold, he realized that he had no clothes on at all. A pillow was under his head, a blanket covering his body. The smell in the room seemed stronger and grew fouler by the minute. It was a pungent, strong and musky, making him think of bears or wolverines. There are no bears or wolverines in Tasmania.

The second voice now had a face to go with it. It was male, much younger than the woman, and somewhat vacant. The owner of the voice was a mountain of a man, tall and square by birth, not training. When he spoke, his words were limited, carefully annunciated and slow to escape from his lips. He seemed cold and cautious.

The large-browed Adam took the syringe from the woman then passed a pan and a cloth down to her before disappearing into the shadows. Ryan’s muscles tightened as he waited for whatever she had planned. He was surprised when she dipped the cloth into the basin, carefully pulled it back out and twisted it to force out the excess water. She set the cloth on his forehead. It felt cool and refreshing. She left it there for a moment then used it to wipe his face. She finished by running it though his very short chestnut hair.

Adam appeared again, silently handing a mug and bowl to the woman. She set them down on the floor beside Ryan’s pillow, and for the first time, finally addressed him.

We need to get some fluids into you. You’ve got the fever. It’s those damn mozzies out in the swamp. No one ever thinks about Ross River Fever till those damned little blood suckers with wings take a bite out of ya. He felt the pillow and his head thereon, being gently elevated, realizing that Adam was now on the floor near his shoulders. The woman dipped a spoon into the bowl then lifted it to his lips. It’s chicken broth. Made it myself.

Ryan had no choice in the matter. The spoon was pressed against his lips then poured down his throat. He had no strength or ability to fight it. After the first taste, he welcomed the warm liquid. It could be dirty dishwater, or laced with rat poison, but it tastes damn fine.

After a few spoonfuls, the pillow was lower to the ground to give him a chance to breathe and rest. A minute later, the process started again.

The soup should make you feel better, and give you a bit of strength. Once you have some food in your stomach, we’ll give you some aspirin to help calm the fever. We’ll get rid of those chills and have you feeling up to snuff in no time.

He nodded, unsure of her message. Her words were lost to her accent and the feeling of cotton being packed into his ears and head. The background noise made it that much harder to know what she had said. He was sure he heard the barking of dogs in the mix now – normal dogs, big dogs, but dogs just the same. He was both relieved to at least identify something familiar around him and concerned as to the breed, personality and purpose for the animals.

A bottle of Tylenol materialized from behind him, apparently handed to the woman by Adam. She opened it and dumped two caplets into her hand. You aren’t allergic, are you?

Ryan replied by trying to shake his head, but the pain from the movement was agonizing. She popped the pills into his mouth and lifted the mug to his lips. Luke warm tea washed the tablets down. Thankfully, she gave him two more tastes of the liquid before his head was again lowered.

Hope you don’t have any allergies. She grinned at him. Her teeth were yellowed and several were missing. That shot I gave you should help to take care of the fever. I didn’t have any for people, just animals, but I think I got the amount right for a bloke your size. She laughed, or rather cackled. You are one hell of a well-built bloke, aren’t ya? She poked playfully at his arm.

Her actions confused him even more, despite feeling better because of the food and liquids. I’m being held captive, tied up and incapacitated, yet she is nursing me? If this was just to help me, if it was charity and concern, why the hell would she tie me up? If this was about an act of aggression, why care about my health? Like the dogs barking in the background, it was a puzzle. In his present condition, Ryan couldn’t find the pieces to start putting it together.

The medication, the exhaustion from the fever and the food in his stomach were too much of a challenge. His eyes lost their fight, closing tightly as he went in search for his Pacific hula princess and her warming charms.

CHAPTER 2 -- You Come Back to Tassie

Garrett Grainger watched as the blue Cessna floated toward the landing strip, touching down gracefully and quietly as its wheels eased onto the tarmac. It made its way to the other end of the runway then turned back toward the small shed that served as a terminal. The engines were silenced and the door opened to release a set of steps that oozed to the ground. A behemoth filled the doorway. He smiled as he surveyed the landscape he had just invaded, his teeth strong, straight and blinding white in the warm summer sunlight. Dark glasses rested on a roman nose, hair was short and blond, chin was cleft. Garrett pursed his lips and nodded. It’s just like Terry said it would be. Every damned Sheila in town will be drooling about him. So much for the party Friday night.

He straightened, adjusted his cap and moved to greet the guest, stopping short when the man turned, holding out his hand to help his travel partner down the stairs. Garrett stared. Oh damn, this is not good. This is not good at all! Tanned skin set off wheat-colored hair that draped over her shoulders. She wore a light white cotton dress and sandals with straps that criss-crossed up her legs to mid-calf. Garrett’s eyes lingered on the calves as they carried her down the stairs. Even from this distance, he could see the blue stone hanging around her neck. As she approached, he could see that her eyes matched the gold-flecked lapis lazuli cabochon. Just like everyone said. He whistled under his breath.

The man, who had also served as pilot on this flight, was attentive to her every step. Their fingers were playfully interlaced as they grinned at each other. Yeah, smile, you bastard. Enjoy your secret. It’s not going to last long in these parts.

Both now on terra firma, he took her in his arms, kissing her passionately on the lips, cradling her head in his hands as he did so. The second kiss they held even longer, his hands slipping down from her waist then riding the curve of her buttocks. Garret rolled his eyes then turned away to give them some privacy. The boss is not going to be happy about this. This is one surprise he doesn’t need. He snuck a peek over his shoulder.

Her hand had found its way into his shirt. She slipped it back out, reached for his hand, their fingers entwining again as they started for the car. Garrett opened the back door of the white limo then stood very straight as he waited for his next cue. G’day, Mister Styles. How was your flight?

Brad Styles smiled, winked then wrapped his arm around his companion’s shoulder, showing her off. It was just about perfect. He nodded to Garrett then smiled to the woman. In you go, Andi.

She giggled. This is really bad, Brad. What if someone sees us?

He turned back to Garrett. Everything is as requested?

Cristal is chilled. The glasses are beside the ice bucket. I’ll get your bags, Sir. We’ll be ready to leave in just a minute.

I just have to make a quick call first. Styles pulled his phone from his belt and dialed, turning his back to them both.

A second man had climbed down from the plane, leaving two suitcases and a make-up bag at the bottom stair before starting his routine post-flight check and maintenance. Garrett acknowledged him with a nod, grabbed the bags and dropped them in the trunk. More god damned money than they know how to spend.

He held the door as Styles slipped onto the seat beside his companion, his arm already snaking behind her neck.

Brad, really, do you think this is a good idea?

He pulled her closer for a kiss. You worry too much. I never have bad ideas. I told you that everything is under control. It is.

Garrett shut the door on them, grumbling to himself as he walked the length of the car. No mate, you never get bad ideas. You get some fucking awful ones. Now, let’s get the windows up and you all snuck away in the back, so I can warn Terry about what’s heading down the pike toward him.

#

The screen slowly crept toward the roof of the limo. Brad held Andi close, his lips beside her ear, waiting for it to seal.

Brad, this is…

Shh. He pressed his index finger to her lips then whispered into her ear. We don’t want him to hear.

He closed the window, she whispered back.

He shook his head, pointed around the interior of the vehicle. These things are notorious for cameras and mikes. We have to keep quiet. He flipped a toggle switch. How long until we’re at the mine?

Forty minutes, Sir, Garrett’s voice crackled though the speaker.

We’re not to be disturbed, then. Thank you. He flicked the switch, reached for the radio dial and turned on some music.

Brad, what’s…?

He pulled her close for another kiss. There is no privacy back here, he reminded her quietly.

She nodded. I’m scared.

I know. Don’t be. We’ll find him.

A tear inched down her cheek. That’s what we said about Liam.

#

Garrett threw his cell phone onto the passenger seat then slammed his palm into the steering wheel. Useless piece of crap! He ran his hand through his hair. Jesus, Terry’s going kill me.

CHAPTER 3 -- Road To Town

What’s this? Andi pointed to the mark on the map app on her tablet.

Table Mountain. It’s the highest point in the state. His finger traced the outline of it then dotted the areas around it. These lakes all have some amazing fishing. We’re surrounded by them over here. He reached for her hand. Andi, you don’t have to do this right now. We’ve been through it all.

I know, but I have to. What’s all this outside the mine property?

Farming. We’re surrounded by farms. This ruby mine was one hell of a find. It’s a real little paradise out here.

What are we going to find when we arrive? Please tell me this camp is better run than Oro Verde.

Brad nodded. Yeah, the manager here has his shit together. Medical facilities, school, library, a couple stores, a mess for the workers to eat at when they want, a theater… all cleaned and maintained. He treats the workers fairly well. They have recreational facilities, he makes sure transportation out of there is available when they need it… It’s probably one of our best facilities by Cabochon standards, and by local standards, the people there live in the lap of luxury. Getting a job at the mine is sort of a holy grail for them, especially being in an area where there isn’t a lot of anything else for them.

Environmentally, how does he do?

We have a contract with the state and national governments outlining some pretty rigid guidelines and expectations. For the most part, they were all proposed by us and go far beyond what the governments here demand. He shrugged. This is our living example of how it can be done, respecting the employees, the governments and the land, while still making money. We have no complaints. We opened our facilities to the local people, donate to local causes, and the government includes our team on several of their boards now. I wish more places could be as cooperative as this one.

Most other resource companies give the governments and the people no reason to be cooperative. She looked out the window. It will all be maintained when the mine is exhausted?

You know it will. Our agreement stipulates that it will be clean, viable land when we are done here, that we will maintain it for ten years or until another entity is able to take it over. Charities and organizations doing something for the community get first crack at it. That way, the whole town doesn’t have to die.

Are we close to exhausting the mine?

Brad shook his head. We’ll be doing business here for more than a couple years.

What about Terry Linford? What are we dealing with in him?

Brad chuckled then tipped his head toward the window. You’re about to find out.

CHAPTER 4 -- Amazing Day

Sweat streamed off Ryan’s forehead, down his chin, across his shoulders. Combined with the endless, faceless voices surrounding him, he was back in the jungle of Ecuador. He tossed his head in an attempt to fling the memory away. The stab of pain in the base of his skull made him cry out, but did nothing to dismiss the journey back.

#

Let’s hurry, Señor Ryan! Esmee ran to him, grabbed his hand then pulled him along behind her. Your babies! We have to go!

Ryan laughed. Slow down, Esmee. We’re getting everything ready. We still have to wait for your mom. He picked her up and set her inside the helicopter. Get in back, get that seatbelt on and we’ll go as soon as your mom and sister get here. He grabbed the clipboard from the front seat and began his pre-flight inspection.

Gimme that. You’ll miss something. Brad snatched the sheet away from him.

Like hell I will.

You’re head is on Lapis Lazuli, where your god damned ass should be right now. You’re thinking booties and babies; not hydraulic hoses and fuel levels.

Liam’s heading out too, now?

Yeah, the Old Man contacted him, wants him to head back right away, so he will be a minute or two behind you, if we get our shit together.

Ryan frowned. What’s that about?

No idea, but the man just became a grandpa again, so he probably is thinking thirty years down the road.

Ryan leaned against the helicopter. Jesus, I’m a dad.

Brad stopped his inspection to stare at his friend. My god, you just figured that out?

I don’t know anything about babies. I have no idea how to hold them, or feed them or…

Maybe I should fly this bird for you.

Ryan laughed. I’m fine. It’s just… surreal.

As long as you keep your head out of the clouds and the bird up there in them, you’ll be fine.

Jolanta ran up to them, a bag over her arm. I’m ready. She looked cautiously at the helicopter. This is safe?

"Absolutely. You’ll be