Deadly Silence

by Lindsay McKenna

  Clarissa was working on a quilt top. She stopped what she was doing and peered at her acne-faced son by her first husband, whom she had divorced. Her son had been rebellious for years about the breakup. And his father, Jared Bourne, a Wall Street banker, was still very much involved in his son’s life, much to Clarissa’s discontent. Brad had never warmed up to her second husband, Senator Carter Peyton. They hated one another. And Brad hated having to live with his mother and her new husband. In the divorce settlement, Clarissa had gained custody. Jared saw his son on major holidays, but not all of them. And, until Bradley was eighteen, he had to live with Clarissa.

  She spied his muddy boots. Wrinkling her nose, she said, “The least you could have done, Brad, is taken your boots off in the mud porch.”

  Shrugging, he muttered, “Maria will clean it up.”

  Scowling, Clarissa snapped, “You should do it yourself! You’re not going to have a maid who will follow you around to clean up your dirt the rest of your life, Brad.”

  Smiling a little, he shrugged again. “Hey, she needs a job. I’m giving it to her.”

  “Why aren’t you at school? Are you skipping again?”

  “Yeah, me and some of my friends went for a hike. I hate school. It’s boring.”

  Putting down the quilt top, Clarissa felt helpless. “You can’t do this, son. You need an education.” Brad always had a chip on his shoulder. He hated coming to Wyoming when Carter needed to work with his constituents. He much preferred the wild life of Washington, D.C., where he had rich friends. He ran with the Costa Rican ambassador’s son, a well-known Formula 1 racer. Brad always liked dangerous things and that scared Clarissa. She hoped it was only teenage hormones and that her six-foot-tall son would grow out of the need for risky behavior.

  “Ah,” he said, perking up, “I’ll make up for it, Mom. I’m smart. I’ll get the assignment and finish it in no time. I’m a straight-A student. Don’t worry.” Turning away, he slouched down the pine hall to his room. He didn’t want to hear the rest of his mother’s diatribe, which he could repeat verbatim. Shutting the door, Brad sat on his queen-size bed decked in a brown, green and blue quilt that his mother had made for him on his last birthday.

  Shoving off his muddy hiking boots, he left them in the middle of the floor. Maria could take care of them. His adrenaline was still running high. He and his gang, the Cougars, had trapped a raccoon up a tree, which he had climbed to force the terrified animal out of. As it hit the ground, the other six teens were there to beat it to death with clubs. Brad had missed the killing as he’d inched down the tree. The raccoon was a bloody pulp by the time he’d landed on the ground. They’d been celebrating their kill by taking meth when someone nearby had fired a rifle. It was close and it scared the hell out of all of them. They took off running for their SUVs parked about a mile down the trail.

  Bradley shucked out of his dirty clothes and left them wherever they fell on the pine floor. He needed a shower before meeting the Cougars at their local hangout, Brick’s Café. Still feeling the buzz of the meth, Brad sauntered into his huge, well-appointed bathroom to take a long, hot shower. Life was good.

  MATT WAS TALKING WITH Deputy Cade Garner at the counter of the sheriff’s department when Ranger Charley Davidson arrived. What caught Matt’s interest was the shell casing in the ranger’s gloved hand.

  “Morning, Cade,” Charley greeted, handing the deputy the bullet casing. “Got another one.”

  Matt stared down at it. “Morning, Charley.”

  “Hi, Matt.” Charley nodded in his direction. “Busy morning?”

  “Yes,” Matt said. He was on duty and was discussing a suspicious structure fire that appeared to be arson. Cade Garner was taking the report. “What you got there, Charley?” he asked, pointing at the casing that Garner was studying.

  “Someone shot at one of my rangers this morning,” he grunted. “This is the second time. Happened last year, too. I want Cade here to compare the bullet casing with the other one. I want to know if it’s comin’ from the same rifle.”

  The hair on the back of Matt’s neck stood up. “Who was shot at?” he demanded.

  “Ranger Cantrell.”

  “What?” The word exploded out of Matt in disbelief. “Is she all right?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. Bullet was fired from the west and onto the trail she was on. It landed two feet away from her. She’s fine.”

  Heart pounding, Matt felt alarm. He glanced over at Cade, who was scowling.

  “Do you think she was being targeted?” Garner demanded of the supervisor.

  Shrugging, Charley said, “I don’t know. I wasn’t there. Ranger Cantrell said she saw no one. The Moose Trail has a lot of thick brush and there’s woods surrounding it, so it would be hard to see anyone.” He jabbed his finger down at Cade’s opened hand. “Just see if this one matches the other one from last year?”

  “I will,” Cade said.

  Matt struggled to remain silent. He felt dizzied by the information. “We’re aware of two gangs of teens that have been killing animals inside your park, Charley. Do you think it might be them?”

  “Better hope not, Matt. That would mean those brats have graduated from the caveman tactics of beating animals to death with clubs to using rifles and killing two-legged creatures instead. That’s not a happy thing for me to contemplate. If I’ve got two gangs roving in my park with rifles and pistols, well…that’s a whole different scenario.” His mouth turned downward. “And it ain’t one I seriously want to contemplate.”

  Wiping his mouth, Matt said, “This is serious.”

  “Yes,” Cade murmured, “it is.” He turned to Charley. “I’ll get our gal in forensics to check this bullet against the other one we’re holding. I’ll call you as soon as we get an answer.”

  Nodding, Charley said, “Fine, thanks, Cade.”

  “If those kids have guns,” Matt said, “they’re taking their parents’ firearms, then.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Cade said. “We have a black market on drugs and guns here in the valley. And you know Westerners by nature are independent and believe in carrying firearms. If those parents are unknowingly supplying them, that’s one thing. And that’s what I’d think. No parent is going to let his teen take a rifle out to shoot wildlife around here. There’s just too much respect for the parks in most people who live here to do that.”

  “Oh,” Charley groused, “there’s some real fanatic gun enthusiasts around here, Cade. You know they’re capable of just about anything.”

  “Yes, and we know who they are,” Garner parried. He held up the shell casing. “Let me get to work on this. I’ll be in touch.”

  Wagging his finger at the deputy, Charley warned, “My gut tells me things are escalating. I don’t know who or how, but this ain’t a good sign. We all need to change our tactics and find out just who the hell is behind it. I’m not having my rangers shot at. I just won’t.” He stared hard at the deputy. “You tell your commander that if he don’t put some of his people into busting those two teen gangs, then I’m going to change my tactics.”

  Matt heard the warning in the supervisor’s growling tone. He saw his friend Cade nod.

  “I hear you, Charley. We’ll do what we can and I know our commander will be in touch with you shortly.”

  “Come June first, Cade, you know the world lands in Jackson Hole. We got six million tourists coming from June through the end of August. If those teen gangs are running rampant, unchecked and undiscovered as they have been thus far, we’re in a world of hurt. Can’t you just see the headlines now?” He held up his hands and spread his arms. “‘Tourists gunned down in national park.’” Allowing his hands to fall to his sides, he said, “That ain’t happenin’ on my watch, Cade. The Tetons are my responsibility. I ain’t gonna have some juiced-up teens running like wild cavemen through the trails with rifles and pistols. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

  “It is,” Cade soothed, trying to ramp down the ranger’s escalating anger
. “One step at a time, Char ley. We’re with you, not against you on this problem.”

  Rubbing his strong chin, Charley stared hard at the deputy. “Look, I got a young, green ranger who is shaken to her roots. Over the decades, we’ve been forced to carry weapons on us. Now, we’re more like law enforcement in these parks than what we used to be—caretakers of some of the most beautiful and pristine land in this country. Everything’s changed since I entered the forest service. I don’t like my people are out there on the line as targets for these punks.”

  “I hear you,” Cade said. He glanced over at Matt and then back at the supervisor. “We’ll work with you.”

  “I’d better hear from your commander on this,” Matt warned. “You know we have to make runs out within the Tetons.” There were several ranches within the boundaries of the park. “I sure wouldn’t want someone firing a rifle at my teams if they’re trying to fight a structure fire.”

  “We’ll gather everyone,” Cade promised. “There needs to be coordination on this.”

  “Humph,” Charley groused. He turned on his heel and left.

  Matt watched Garner push through the door into the rear where the offices were located. Becky, the receptionist at the desk, looked up at him. “You look pale, Matt. You okay?”

  “I’m okay,” he assured the forty-year-old brunette as he left. Outside, the warmth of the sunshine mixed with the barely-above-freezing cool breeze. He wanted to contact Casey. Was she really all right? He recalled her sharing her story of nearly being beaten to death by five drug runners out in the forest. Running his fingers through his hair, he headed for his bright-red-and-white SUV with the light bar on top of it. First, he had to get back and let Captain Doug Stanley know what had happened. His next phone call would be to Casey.

  CHAPTER NINE

  CASEY HAD JUST FINISHED writing out a report of what had happened to her out on the trail when her cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Casey, this is Matt. Are you all right?”

  Sitting back in the chair at her desk, she said, “Yes, I’m fine.” He sounded raw and worried. It was then that she realized he cared for her. A lot. Compressing her lips, she laughed a little. “Honestly, everyone around here probably thinks I’m the dumbest ranger on the block. When the shot was fired the last thing I thought of was being fired at. I thought it was a hunter trying to shoot a bear this morning.”

  “I was at the sheriff’s department when Charley came in. I overheard the conversation with Deputy Cade Garner. He’s an old school friend of mine. We grew up together. They seem to think it was not a hunter.”

  Brows rising, Casey murmured, “Charley said none of that to me. Who would want to shoot at me? I’m a nobody.”

  “Maybe you are somebody,” he said grimly. “Are you free for lunch today? I don’t start my shift until 6:00 p.m. We could eat over at Dorman’s restaurant in the park?”

  Dorman’s was on one of the ranches enclosed by Grand Teton National Park. “I’d like that. Dorman’s has great food.”

  “I’ll see you at noon over there, then?”

  Her heart expanded with silent joy. “Yes, see you then.”

  The USFS headquarters building was a teeming hive of activity. Everyone was gearing up for June first when visitors from around the world would begin to descend upon this valley. Frowning, Casey looked over her report. Had she been stupid? Why hadn’t she thought about someone shooting at her? Shaking her head, Casey decided she just couldn’t go there. She’d barely been here for two months. In that time, she’d gotten along with everyone. And most of the time she was over at the visitor’s center, not out on the trails. Casey had written no tickets on people in the park. So, who had it out for her?

  THE SENATOR SEETHED. He was in Idaho Falls, incognito, at a seedy motel on the outskirts of the city. Wearing dark glasses, a sporty gray hat and the clothes of someone with a helluva lot less money than he had, he hoped no one would recognize him. It was chilly as he sat out in front of the yellow cabins of the rundown motel. Where the hell was Benson? Peyton was always on edge with these meetings. Things had gone wrong.

  The door of one of the cabins opened. Benson, in his late forties, hopped in through the passenger door of the Chevy truck. “Hey, Senator, how’s it going?” He took off his red knit cap, grinning and showing the gap between his upper front teeth.

  Turning, Carter glared at him. “You screwed up, dammit! I paid you good money to take out that ranger. What the hell happened?”

  Chuckling, Frank Benson sat back, a lopsided grin on his unshaven square face. “Well, it’s a good one, Senator. I had set up for the shot, had my finger on the trigger, when a mama grizzly bear and her two cubs found me in that willow thicket.” He glanced at the livid senator. “I never heard them coming. When I focus on a shot, I block the world out. I hear nothing. And I didn’t hear the sow and her cubs coming. I was so damned surprised, I jerked off the shot and missed the ranger by two feet.”

  Fuming, Carter said, “That’s just great.”

  “You could say something like, ‘Hey, Frank, how’d you get from between that rock and a hard place?’” He laughed to himself, rubbing his long, large hands across the knees of his jeans. “I guess I shouldn’t expect human compassion or kindness or concern to really enter into our relationship, should I?” Frank gloated as he saw the senator’s face become a dull red. He didn’t like Peyton, but he liked his money. And he had plenty of other buyers for his sniper skills, so he didn’t mind tweaking the arrogant bastard a little.

  “A grizzly bear?” Peyton snarled.

  “It happens, Senator.”

  Biting back more epithets, Peyton switched gears. “Okay, here’s what is happening. My town spies have seen this ranger, Casey Cantrell, getting close to Sinclaire. I asked you to take her out. I told you years ago, I’m taking everything Sinclaire ever loved away from him. He took my wife and children.” His mouth thinned. “I’m going to make this bastard pay…”

  “Then why not cut to the chase?” Frank asked. “Forget the girlfriend. Let me set fire to his new home when he and his daughter are asleep.”

  Rubbing his chin, Carter said, “No. I can’t have two houses in a row burned. That sends up a huge red flag for the police. I have to get him and his daughter in other ways. Besides, fire is too unpredictable.”

  Snickering, Frank said, “Too bad they weren’t with me when that sow and cubs found me. That’s what you need—some kind of situation where they’re out in the woods and their deaths look to be from natural causes. Lots of people get killed by grizzly bears every year. Even here in Wyoming there’s always one or two. Why not them?”

  “It’d be damned hard to lure a grizzly bear somewhere that they’re hiking.”

  “But they hike a lot.”

  “No. It’s too time-consuming and you can’t control where a grizzly goes.”

  “You heard anything about my shot from local authorities?” Benson asked.

  “I haven’t nosed into it. And I’m not going to.”

  “That bullet went into soft mud. It’s probably going to be seen as a sniper special. We use only a certain type of bullet to do the job. I don’t think the police in Jackson Hole are stupid.”

  “They’ll never pin it to you, so stop worrying about it.” Flexing his hands on the steering wheel of his pickup truck, Carter added, “I need a new plan. Something different. We can’t try killing her with the same tactic.”

  “I think what needs to happen here,” Frank said, “is to let me tag along and follow them. I need to find out their schedules. I can do this if you rent me a nice log cabin somewhere around Jackson Hole. I’ll use an alias, I’ll shave my beard, get cleaned up and look like a tourist in town. That way, the next time around, I won’t miss. And who knows, Senator? I might be able to get all three of them at once, should the god of snipers decree it.” Benson grinned unevenly.

  Carter knew that Benson was a master of disguises. What he didn’t want was to be associated with him
in any way. “I’ll give you a month.”

  “Okay,” Frank said, smiling. He held out his hand.

  Glaring at him, Carter opened the glove compartment. In it there was a brown envelope filled with money—cash on the barrelhead. “Is ten grand enough?” he demanded, quickly flipping through the one-thousand-dollar bills.

  “For now,” Benson said. “That gives me nice digs, allows me to eat at restaurants they may frequent and things like that. I’m going to pose as a photographer. The Tetons and Yellowstone are a photographer’s paradise and I won’t raise suspicion if I’m carrying around a tripod with a camera attached to it.”

  Nodding, Carter gave him the money. “It’s a good disguise.” Frank Benson had a weathered, deeply lined face. He loved the outdoors and most of his assassination work was performed outside.

  “Who knows?” he chuckled. “I may get very close to one of ’em. We’ll see. The more I know, the better the ambush I can set up.”

  “Agreed,” Carter muttered. “Get going.” He looked at his Rolex watch hidden by the gray sweatshirt sleeve. “I gotta get back to Jackson Hole.” His wife was holding a gala at the local museum to raise money for wildlife preservation this evening and it was already noon. Clarissa had no idea where he was and he wanted to make damn sure she never found out, either.

  Tucking the money into the pocket of his green nylon jacket and zipping it shut, Benson opened the door. “I’ll be in touch, boss.”

  The car door slammed shut. Benson walked away. In some ways, Carter admired the sniper. He was utterly confident, needed no one and kept his secrets. Still, as he backed the car out of the parking lot, Peyton knew that Benson could turn on him at any time and blackmail him. After all, he was a senator and worth nearly half a billion dollars. He was an easy target.

  Pulling the Chevy truck on the road and heading back toward the freeway entrance that would take him south to Driggs, Idaho, Peyton was thankful that, thus far, Benson had not tried that ploy with him. Hands on the wheel, he smiled thinly. If the sniper ever tried it, Carter would up the ante on him. What Benson didn’t know was that he had other criminal resources who would gladly put a single bullet into his head, should he get out of line.