Novel 1987 - The Haunted Mesa (v5.0) Read Online Free

would risk his freedom to steal a book he could buy on any newsstand for a couple of dollars.”
    â€œBook?”
    â€œErik Hokart and I have exchanged books for years. If he reads one he likes he sends it to me and I do the same with him. But if you want it that bad, please take it.”
    â€œBook?”
    â€œGet out! If you come here again I’ll kill you. I don’t like thieves.”
    The man ducked through the slit where the curtain joined and through the glass doors, which stood open. Mike heard the sound as the man dropped to the ground—no great drop for an active man.
    Walking to the window Mike drew it shut and locked it, watching the man crossing toward the highway. Headlights came on and a white van moved off toward Durango.
    Taking the daybook and his gun, he went into the bathroom and showered and shaved. As he shaved he thought about Erik. That the man believed himself in serious trouble was obvious from his letter. Even from his first message it had been clear that something was wrong, and Erik was not given to sudden notions or apprehensions.
    Erik’s telephone call had been brief and to the point. “I need,” he said, “somebody with your particular interests, somebody with your brand of thinking. I will cheerfully pay all expenses and for your time.”
    â€œIt’s impossible right now, Erik. I’ve started something that must be finished.”
    Erik had been silent, then had said, “Come as soon as you can, all right? I don’t want to talk to anybody else about this.”
    â€œWhat is it? What’s wrong?”
    Again that hesitation. Was he speaking from a public phone? Were there others around, perhaps listening? “Tell you when you get here. You’d think I was off my rocker.” He hesitated again. “At least, anybody else would.”
    They had said their good-byes and then Erik had said, quickly. “Mike? Please! I’m desperate!”
    Mike remembered how he had hung up, startled, staring at the phone. That was so unlike Erik Hokart. The man must truly be in trouble, but at that time he had not connected it to his own knowledge of the country. Somehow the two ideas had not come together in his mind. Had he realized…
    Then he got the letter. The writing was erratic, totally unlike Erik’s.

    For God’s sake, come at once!
I need you, Mike, if ever I needed anyone. If it’s money, I’ll pay, but come! And be careful. Trust no one. No one at all.
    Meet me on the Canyon road, you know the one. If I am not there, for God’s sake, find me!
    If anyone can handle this it will be you. I am sending the record as far as it goes. Get us out of this, Mike, and I’ll be forever indebted.
    Chapter 3
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    U S? WAS SOMEONE with him then? Mike had worried about that plural more than once since the letter arrived, and during his flight west. None of it made sense. Erik had always been a loner, attractive to women but seemingly not attracted by them.
    Mike Raglan turned the idea over in his mind while dressing. Then he made coffee and seated himself at a table where he could see both the glass doors and the front entrance. He put the .357 on the table in front of him.
    He was not expecting trouble, yet they had gone so far as to force an entry to his condo in the night. What might follow he did not know.
    He opened the daybook, and using his thumb as a marker he sat back, curiously reluctant to delve into its contents. Men had taken the country too much for granted. The obvious dangers and benefits tended to obscure much else, and most people had thought of the West in terms of fur, buffalo, gold, silver, cowboys, Indians, and cattle, rarely looking beyond the surface.
    The Indians the white man met were no more the original inhabitants of the country than were the Normans and Saxons the original inhabitants of England. Other peoples had come and gone before, leaving only their shadows upon the land. Yet some