by Alice Sharpe
Using the flashlight to illuminate the bag, he pulled it open. The lining was a pale blue color, so it wasn’t hard to see the small darting forms of several dark spiders scampering out of the light. Tyler managed to step on one before it got away. He took the light from Julie and sitting on his heels, bent down to look at it. Then he looked at the rest of the bag including the object Julie had hit with her foot.
When he stood up, he took a long look at her. “Come with me,” he said and took off back to the river, she following behind.
“Where are we going? I’m cold,” she said, her voice soft.
He addressed her from over his shoulder. “Back to the river. Remember I took that arachnology class in college?”
“Yes. Do you know what kind of spider it was that you stepped on? How did that box get in there? Don’t you always launder the bags between guests?”
“Yes, we always do,” he said. “Julie, take off your clothes. I’m going to make sure you haven’t been bitten.”
“What?”
“That’s why I brought you down here—for a little privacy. We could wake another woman to help you if you insist—”
“No, that’s okay, there’s no part of me you haven’t seen a thousand times. But, really, I’d know if I was bitten, and so what if I was?”
“The spider I killed could have been a hobo spider. I don’t think we should take a chance you would feel a bite, especially after your dip in cold water.”
“You mean the kind of spider that’s related to the brown recluse?”
“Yeah. I can’t be certain with the naked eye, but we can’t take a chance. Hand me my jacket and strip off your clothes. I’ll be quick about it.”
“This is not how I expected to spend my time as a camp cook,” she grumbled as she took off the jacket and handed it to him. “And this is not exactly keeping you out of my problems either,” she added. Facing away from him, she removed her bra and stepped out of her panties. “I’ll check my front,” she said, and he passed her the flashlight while he stared out at the river and tried to think of something besides the fact she was standing stark-naked eighteen inches away from him, examining her own breasts.
Finally, she handed back the light and he used it to go over her backside. He didn’t touch her; it wasn’t necessary, but God, he wanted to. The smooth, rounded cheeks of her butt just asked to be fondled and kissed, and as he gently lifted her hair to look at her shoulders he thought of the hundreds of times he’d done the same thing right before kissing the nape of her neck. He shone the light down her legs, wincing when he glimpsed the scabs and bruises on her knees that must be the result of hitting the pavement in front of that city bus.
The healing wounds brought home the danger she was in just like the quivering arrow had; it was all he could do not to fold her in his arms and whisk her away to safety whether she wanted it or not.
But where was safety if not out here? If he sent her away she’d be alone to face whoever was after her. If he kept her with him, she was in danger. Someone had gotten to her twice and both times, he’d been literally right by her side.
“Okay,” he said at last, handing her his jacket again which she held over her chest. “I’ll go get your clothes and shake them out for you.”
He spent a moment checking the bag once again, fighting alarm as he noted that things had changed from just a few minutes before. He used the flashlight to scan the camp. It looked as peaceful as a camp always did this late in the night, but someone was out there, watching him. He was sure of it. He grabbed Julie’s things and the rest of his stuff, shaking everything vigorously as he ran back toward the river. His breathing calmed down when he detected her willowy silhouette among the shadows.
“Here you go, guaranteed spider-free,” he said, but she insisted on using the flashlight to check every inch of fabric before she dressed. He shrugged on his shirt and started buttoning it.
“I just thought of something,” she said as she pulled her jeans up over her hips. “If my bag was infested, maybe the others are, too. We have to wake people—”
“No, don’t worry about it,” he interrupted. “That box you felt was an egg carton.”
She pulled the sweater over her head and stared at him. “An egg carton?”
“And it wasn’t a brand we have on the ranch, so someone had to bring it with them. But there’s more. Someone cut a little vee shape on the lid over about half the cups.”
“Tyler, it’s like you’re speaking Greek. Why was there an egg carton—”
“I think someone used it to transport the spiders to the bag.”
“But the cuts—”
“Were probably how they managed to fill the cups without the spiders skittering away. Think about it, you’d have to carefully insert each spider with tweezers or something, one at a time. It’s not like the others would just sit there and wait for you to close the lid.
She stared at him as though he was crazy. “Then you think someone put that egg carton half full of spiders specifically in that bag?”
“Yes. And I don’t have to tell you that the bedrolls are all clearly labeled.”
“But my label says Rose Hunt.”
“And everyone knew Mom had convinced you to take her place.”
“But even if I’d been bitten, it wouldn’t have killed me straight away unless I’m allergic. I would have had time to return to the ranch—”
“Maybe. If you’d been asleep and suffered multiple bites, who knows?”
“I don’t understand, Tyler,” she said. “Show me—”
“I can’t. The carton is gone now. So is the dead spider I stepped on.”
“Gone!” she said in a whisper, turning to peer into the dark. Her eyes were huge as she looked back at him and then toward the camp.
He put an arm around her quivering shoulder. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t take you more seriously right from the beginning. You’re right, someone is trying to kill you.”
“And sooner or later, they’ll succeed,” she said.
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
* * *
THE CAMP WOULD BE USED later that week by a new group of guests that wouldn’t partake in a cattle drive but would come out here for picnics and target shooting with pistols. For that reason, Tyler insisted they shake out Julie’s bag, doing everything in the semidark while Julie held a flashlight.
“We can’t risk anyone using it until it’s examined in the light of day and cleaned,” he said. Then he zeroed in on Julie and added, “Who knows you’re out here? I mean besides the people at the ranch.”
“No one,” she said.
“Didn’t you tell anyone you came from here or—”
“No, Tyler, I didn’t. I used my maiden name in Oregon.”
“That’s fine when it comes to your friends, but when it comes to credit checks, and that includes getting a job, opening an account, renting an apartment, you had to use your legal name.”
“True,” she said, realizing at once that she hadn’t thought of that.
“And that policeman, Roger Trill, he’d no doubt have access to your identity.”
She rubbed her eyes which had gone past tired into exhaustion. “Then the answer to your questions is, everyone knows my real last name, apparently, but I never breathed a word about Montana.”
“Everyone except your friends knows your name,” he said as he picked up the folded bedroll and started off toward the storage shed.
“Well, there’s only one woman I ever really talked to and I was sure not to tell her my real last name, not even last night when I spoke to her,” Julie said as they crossed the field.
“You spoke to her last night?”
“Yes, she’s a neighbor and I knew she’d be worried. I didn’t tell her where I was calling from or anything and I told her not to tell anyone I called...”
“Wait a second. Who would she tell if she was your only close friend?”
&n
bsp; “Officer Trill. He came to my apartment and convinced the super to open it. He came back while we were still on the phone. He had her convinced I was suicidal and he wanted her to check my apartment to see if anything was missing. And Nora said Professor Killigrew came looking for me, too.”
“Killigrew is your boss?”
“Was my boss.”
He tucked the bedding in the back of the shed. “Why didn’t you tell me this last night?”
“Are you serious?” she snapped, flicking off the flashlight. She couldn’t help but feel vulnerable when it shone like a beacon, pinpointing her whereabouts like a laser. “You got all huffy and judgmental. Not exactly the atmosphere for telling all, you know.”
“No, I guess not,” he said.
“My room was searched, too,” she added. “While you and I were out in the barn...”
“That’s why you brought up petty theft. Was anything taken?”
“No. John Smyth was standing outside when I came back last night. When I asked him about seeing anyone around, he claimed he didn’t.”
“That guy is everywhere,” Tyler said. They stood facing each other in the dark for a few moments, then he added, “We have to make a decision, Julie.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. You came to me for help and I’m finally on board with that. Now, as I see it, our options are you stay on the drive and we keep an eye on all the guests all the time. I can get the wranglers in on that without telling them why.”
“Maybe it’s one of the wranglers.”
“One of my people? Highly unlikely. Remember the egg carton came from off the ranch and none of these guys have been away for weeks. Okay, option two is you leave tomorrow after the rest of us are already gone. I’ll make sure no one follows you. You go back to our house and get the bank book, get a ride into town and take out as much as you need and then go to your parents or the police or wherever you feel safe.
“And option three is I assign someone else to continue the drive and go with you. I guess I could cancel the whole trip—”
“No, that would mean refunds. No way.”
“If it would solve the problem, of course it’s worth a few dollars. But if the danger lies with someone on this trip, taking them back to the ranch with us isn’t going to help a lot.”
She shook her head. “If those are our options, then I vote for the first one.”
“Good, that’s my choice, too.” He closed the shed door and added, “There’s hardly any night left. Let’s bunk in the chuck wagon and try to catch a little sleep.”
Julie didn’t want to lie that close to him, but their choices were very limited. They’d have to share his bedroll....
She was sure she wouldn’t sleep a wink, not jammed up against Tyler and not after the events of the evening, but the next thing she knew, Tyler was shaking her shoulder. It was predawn and Julie guessed they’d had less than two hours of sleep. Still, she awoke with a start, instantly conscious.
“I need to go make sure everything is good with the herd,” he said against her cheek, “and there was no way to get out of this bag without waking you.”
“That’s okay,” she said, doing her best to cope with the shiver his closeness sent racing down her spine. “It’s probably time for me to start cooking anyway.”
“Do I have to remind you to be careful?” he asked, and just like that, her nerves stretched tight over her bones.
“No,” she said, “though I’m not sure how to guard against the kind of bizarre things that are happening.”
“Just be aware of your surroundings.” He finally extricated himself and leaned down to lend her a hand, but she struggled without taking it. Last night had thrown them together in a nest of false intimacy. She’d fallen back into the role of his woman way too easily. He was taking things for granted and she knew she’d encouraged it, but could anything be more unfair to him than promising something she couldn’t give, namely a happy-ever-after future?
He left after pulling on his boots and she climbed out of the wagon to light the lantern and start building a fire. She piled hot coals on the lid of the Dutch oven to bake the biscuits right as the sun rose in the eastern sky, spreading pale pink shadows across the land.
An hour later, guests started showing up, some moving stiffly due to the unaccustomed hours spent in a saddle the day before. Dr. Marquis walked with a stilted gait and took very small servings of the sausage biscuits and gravy, Denver omelets and fresh fruit that Julie had prepared. While everyone ate, Julie kept her hands busy packing lunches for the trail, but what she was doing underneath her calm exterior was a totally different matter.
One of these perfectly ordinary-looking people had tried to kill her—twice. And it could be any of them because they were all strangers with the exception of the returning couple. So, it could be the mild-mannered Taylors’ son or the doctor, or one of the secretaries or the quiet lawyer with the flamboyant mustache, Red Sanders. Or Meg Peterson, or Nigel and Vincent, the brothers who lived to fly-fish.
Or John Smyth. The most amazing thing about both incidents yesterday was that John hadn’t been around before, during or after and he always seemed to be around. She looked for him now and found him seated on a bale of straw next to Mary, Sherry or Terry. Whichever secretary it was, she was talking up a storm, and while John’s head was bent as if he was listening, Julie could tell he wasn’t. His attention seemed to be focused elsewhere and with her own gaze, she followed his line of sight to the pine trees near the river where the incident with the spiders had taken place.
And then his gaze snapped back to her. Caught staring, she produced a smile and so did he.
People started scraping their refuse into the waste barrel and depositing their plates and silverware in the dish tubs. Julie couldn’t help but notice Dr. Marquis had hardly touched his food. “Sir, is there something else I could prepare for you to eat?” she asked as he slipped his plate into the sudsy dishwater.
“No, no, your meal was delicious,” he said.
“I just can’t help but notice how little of it you ate. I’d be happy to fix anything you like as long as we have it.”
“Please don’t worry about it,” he said, pausing and staring at her as though gauging whether to explain. “The truth is,” he said at last with a softer voice, “I had gastric bypass surgery a while back. I just fill up really fast. It has nothing to do with your cooking.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Julie said.
“I’d just as soon you not mention this to anyone else,” he added.
“Of course I won’t. You let me know if there’s something you crave, okay?”
“I will.”
Tyler and a couple of the wranglers who had missed eating with the others rode back into camp a bit later as Julie washed the dishes. They kept downwind so as not to send any dirt drifting with the gentle breeze to compromise the food. Julie’s gaze fastened on Tyler as he dismounted Yukon. He looked like something off the cover of a romance novel or a book about the Old West. In fact, framed as he was by other cowboys and Mother Nature, he made a timeless image, evoking the past like a print out of an old magazine.
After delivering their bedrolls to the wagon for transport to the next camp, many of the guests had left with the first group of wranglers and were now occupied in the chore of rounding up the animals. Julie needed to be long gone to stay in front of the herd.
Tyler strode over to her, questions burning in his eyes. “Nothing has happened, everything is as normal as can be,” she said, making sure her voice was soft. “Anyway, I made sandwiches out of the biscuits and sausage and eggs so you can take them with you if need be.”
“We have time to sit down for a few minutes,” he said as he accepted the platter of individually wrapped warm sandwiches she’d prepared. “Have you eaten?” he added.
“I had one of those,” she said gesturing at the platter. “They’re pretty good if I do say so myself.”
He and the others helped the
mselves to coffee and fruit as she kept washing dishes. Andy was the first to finish his meal and once again filled his thermos from the almost-depleted urn. Then he doused the fires. Soon the other men had finished, and remounting, rode back to the herd. Tyler stopped first to stare into Julie’s eyes.
“Be careful today,” he said.
“Will do.”
“See you in a few hours.”
She nodded, alarmed when she wanted to pull him back or go with him—anything but be alone. The illusion of safety that came with his presence was definitely something she needed to fight, so she looked away from his retreating form and put away the last of the supplies.
During this time, Andy had retrieved Ned and Gertie and put them back in their harnesses. As Julie stowed the last pot in the boot and made sure all the latches were secured, he came around the wagon. “You want to drive the team out of here or shall I?” he asked.
“I’ll take us as far as the river, then she’s all yours,” Julie said. “Do you know where we’re crossing?”
“Yeah. ’Bout five or six miles upstream.”
“At the fork near the split tree?”
“That’s right. Okay, missy, up you go.” He gave her a hand, then lowered his voice even though there wasn’t anyone else around. “Boss told me what’s up,” he said. “No one’s going to get past me and Shasta to hurt you. You can count on that.”
She flashed him a grateful smile that she hoped showed faith, but the truth was she had the feeling they were dealing with a would-be killer who was determined she wouldn’t live through the day.
And she didn’t know why....
Chapter Nine
The ride along the river was an easy one and Julie used it to reacquaint herself with the feel of guiding the team. Andy rode behind the wagon today as though keeping watch in case someone was following them.
Julie felt safe for the moment knowing whoever was behind all these incidents had to be riding with the herd—unless there was a wild card at work in the form of a would-be killer stalking along on their own agenda. That person could be waiting up ahead for all she knew. On the other hand, the trail was far enough away from the river to reduce vegetation and that meant her line of sight was unimpaired.
