Never, in the years she had called Canyon home, had her family looked at her the way Kari had. To see accusation, to see blame, in the eyes of one of the few people she trusted…
She derailed that train of thought before it could run her down and cut the tape on another box.
Though it threatened to open the door for her voices to begin screaming again, going over the memory of Ranger Matthews, and his accusations and threats, was far safer than looking too closely at the rift threatening to tear apart her family. Yet she couldn't get her thoughts to hold still long enough to exam his evidence.
With the last box emptied, Gracie turned to throw it on the recycling stack, but hesitated. That was something she needed to do. If they truly believed she had killed Lester and Mike Garrett, if they had evidence, it could only mean one of two things. Either she really did kill them, or someone was setting her up.
The big door to her shop swung back on its rollers and she jumped, sending the flattened box flying. She clamped both hands over her mouth to hold back a surprised yelp when Steve stuck his head in from the hall.
“I thought I saw a light on in here.”
It wasn't the first time she had forced small talk since she'd been back, but it was the first time her boss had checked in on her. If anyone in the park could catch the echoes of the canyon, it was Steve. “Just getting the last of these boxes out of my way.”
Waiting for the inescapable barrage of questions regarding her visit with the rangers, she was surprised when he only pointed to the clock. “Burning the midnight oil is admirable, but unnecessary.”
He waited, a patient smile in his fatherly eyes, while she stared at the clock and her brain caught up. Her shift had ended over an hour before. “Oh geez, Steve. I'm sorry. I'll be out of here in a bit.”
“It's already dark out. Do you need a ride home?”
If anyone in the park was able to push their curiosity into the backseat and respect her privacy, it was Steve. She should have known better than to expect him to give in and be nosey. Yet the idea of being cornered by anyone, even someone she admired and respected, was intolerable. The curtain would eventually fall and she'd have to deal with the emotional aftermath. “Thanks, but no. It's only a mile.”
“Be careful and if you change your mind, I'll be in my office a while longer. Stay off Norris Road. There's an elk carcass in the meadow past Cascade Creek Trailhead, and our friends coming out of hibernation will be famished.”
“Thank you, Steve.” The gentle nod of his head told her he understood she wasn't just talking about his advice and she felt a genuine smile warm her. “I'll be careful. Have a good night.”
With her tools stored away, she reached to shut down the copier and found tremors had started in her hand. She held them both up, embarrassed, and clenched them into fist to get them under control. Twenty minutes, she begged herself. Just give me twenty more minutes.
On the verge of the impending emotional crash, one she knew all too well, she left the computer and printer running, hit the lights and took only enough time to latch the padlock before she bolted through the backdoors and into the brisk Rocky Mountain evening air.
Movement at the picnic table on the other side of the dock caught her eye as Corny jumped to his feet. For a moment, Gracie thought she had interrupted an intimate moment between Kristi and her husband.
As Corny shoved his hands into the deep pockets of his winter coat and turned away, Gracie found herself looking at Kari. She had a hand over her eyes, her head turned away from Gracie. Though they were in shadow, at the edge of the light offered by the street lamp, there was no mistaking the long golden curls, or the even longer legs braced on the bench below her.
Gracie's cheeks flushed hot with shame. Though she hadn't seen anything, Corny's furtive movements and Kari's refusal to meet Gracie's eyes gave her news she could have done without.
Kristi and Kari weren't just friends; they were family. Her family. Embarrassment gave way to anger as hot tears fell down Gracie's winter-chilled cheeks. If anyone in the world had the power to hurt, it was family. The people you loved, the people you trusted, they were the ones who did the most damage.
But this… She thought Kari was better than this. How long before Kristi found out? How long before they left her broken and crying, alone? Corny knew better. He had a good woman at home and he was throwing her away like yesterday's garbage.
Family. How could she have been so stupid? It was always this way. The people who were supposed to love and protect us. They chased their own selfish gratification, filled their own debase desires, without caring how it would affect the people around them, the people that trusted them.
Her family, the only family she had left in the world, was falling apart around her. Corny wasn't her stepfather. The hurt he caused wasn't anything like what that bastard had done to her, but in that moment, she hated him just as much as she had hated Gary.
Maybe even more so. She had been betrayed by the only people she trusted, betrayed by her own damaged mind, and hunted because she had no way to prove her innocence to herself, much less anyone else.
“Damn you,” she half sobbed. Despite the distance between them, Gracie saw Kari flinch, but felt no satisfaction in the hurt it signified.
She couldn't care less about Corny. He was a stupid man, led along by his pecker like a dog on a leash. With no thought to the people he hurt. Kari, on the other hand—Kari could have had any man in the park. Had probably even come close to doing just that. Gracie wanted to yell at her, scream at her, shake her until her teeth rattled loose.
With her lips pressed into such a tight line that they were nothing more than a stitch, she choked down her tears and followed the path to the village parking lot. If the snow drifts had not still been ten feet deep, choking the path between the lodge and the post office, Gracie would have taken that route. Would have turned her back to the service area of the lodge, and the whoring couple, at the first opportunity. If she had been able to take that path, maybe she would not have seen the woman standing in the shadows.
It was choked off, however, forcing her to walk past the post office, past the small stand of conifers between the parking lot and the picnic table. There was no movement in the trees, no sound, yet something, more felt than seen, pulled Gracie's attention to them and she froze.
Standing there, a shadow among shadows, given away only by the curve of her hips and the baseball cap pulled low over her eyes, Kristi stared down at Corny as he pulled Kari back into his arms. The tremors shaking Gracie became earthquakes, as pieces began to fall into place.
'Who's having an affair?' Kristi had asked Kari at K-Bar. The way Kari had flinched then. The smile that didn't quite reach Kristi's eyes when Gracie asked about Corny.
Kristi knew.
As if she could hear Gracie's thoughts, the ball cap swiveled in Gracie's direction and tilted back. The eyes below the brim caught what little moonlight there was and lit up in the darkness. Fierce, fever bright.
Gracie took an involuntary step back under the force of that gaze. At K-Bar, Kristi hadn't been upset or worried about Lester's death. She had been greedy for the rumors, hungry for the gossip. When they had been cornered in the backroom, waiting for the rangers, Kristi hadn't been nervous, or scared. She had smiled, acted as if it was a game.
Gracie took another step back as Kristi turned that hateful gaze back on the couple down the slope. Free from Kristi's gaze, Gracie spun, slipping on the icy sidewalk, and ran. Heedless of snowdrifts, she cut across the main parking lot to the road.
Overwhelmed by the storm that raged in her mind and heart, she left the pavement and stumbled through the snow and night shrouded woods, far from established trails. The only sanctuary she had left; her home and her dogs, seemed a hundred miles away.
17
Every report that corresponded with the dates Gracie was in the park either had witnesses, or was cut and dry. Hudson couldn't shake the feeling that the woman was not only cap
able of murder, but had experience with it. He just wasn't going to find proof glancing over old reports. There were just too many of them.
A glance at the clock on the wall told him it was time, and he dialed the number David had left on the note from his personal cellphone. It was picked up on the first ring and by way of a greeting, David said, “Iron Horse in twenty.”
“Got it.” The words were barely out of his mouth before the line disconnected.
He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen, incredulous. He'd heard of being cautious, but this was ridiculous. Unless David had still been around someone who might connect the dots and call him on it, forcing him to either lie or tie the noose around his career.
The idea had merit. Though not directly linked to the case, everyone was talking about the ongoing search. A big meeting at the Criminal Justice Building had taken place shortly before the search had been called off for the evening.
A storm front was moving in. Though it wouldn't hit Canyon into well into the night, it would make flying the 'copters too risky. The search and rescue teams were seasoned employees with the National Park Service, but moving around in the dark on the rim of the canyon was a fool's errand, asking for trouble. Getting surprised by a storm would be catastrophic, even for the toughest of them.
Most people let the pavement, shopping centers, and restaurants give them the illusion that they were well within the bounds of civilization. It was a mistake, which cost more than a few people their lives, or that of a loved one. Yellowstone was a jewel in a time when skyscrapers were growing taller, mega cities with over ten million inhabitants were becoming the norm. It was a diamond among landfills and pollution, one that should be cherished and protected—but it was still the wilderness—a dangerous place for those who didn't respect it. The huge stack of reports in the system proved it.
Hudson changed into civilian clothes before locking up shop and heading down the pass to Gardiner in his Jeep. Taking the curves a little faster than he should have, he kept a sharp eye out for deer, elk, and the rocks that where always tumbling down the hillsides. Bighorn sheep, all too close in color to the rocky cliffs they favored, were still a month or so away from causing photo opportunities and traffic jams.
At the park entrance, unmanned this late in the day, he took the right hand turn reserved for employees of the park. Yellow buses, snow coaches, and snowmobiles stood like abandoned soldiers in front of the old warehouse that Wilderness Resorts called home. At the stop light, he hung a right, heading for the bridge over the Gardiner River. Before reaching it, he took a side street that would lead him to the entrance of the Iron Horse.
An unobtrusive gravel path, no bigger than a back alley, led to one of the best eating joints in town. The deck on the back of the corrugated tin building faced the river. The front was almost anonymous, hidden by the backstreets of Gardiner.
The compact gravel parking lot held only three cars, still ticking as the engines cooled in the chilly night air. The only other sentry was the silhouette of the old one room jailhouse that had served Gardiner until sometime in the early 1900's.
The sandwich board on the deck announced off-season hours, eight o'clock on a Thursday night wasn't among them. He tried the door and found it locked. One of the cars in the lot, was David's. The other two, he didn't know. Before he could knock on the door, it was opened and he took a startled step back.
“Hey, Hudson,” Matt Borden, the owner of the Iron Horse, stepped aside and nodded toward the darkened interior. “They're in the back.”
Moonlight shone through the sliding glass doors to the riverside deck, but all other lights had been turned off. In that eerie glow, the Americana that covered every square inch of wall space offered haunting glimpses into Montana's past. Even the raw lodgepoles that held up the roof were covered with tin and enameled plaques, which paid homage to a lost era.
He had expected to see David and Billie, but was surprised when Calvin stood up and reached out to shake his hand. “Hi, boss.”
Though unexpected, the sight of Calvin among his strange cohorts was not disappointing. He wanted to keep as many people out of the loop as possible, but he liked the kid and moreover, no one would expect him of being involved with their espionage. Hudson noted the extra chair and glass of beer waiting next to Billie. “Who else is at the party?”
“Just me,” Matt said as he dumped a plate of deep fried peppers and sauce in the center of the table and took his seat. He leaned toward Billie and her body responded to him, leaning into the bend of his arm as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Hudson was surprised at the pang he felt. There was no sexual attraction to Billie, never had been. He'd never had the slightest interest in fellow rangers, or anyone else since Janette, but seeing their warm, comforting posture in the darkened interior of the bar had been a shock.
He didn't begrudge them their happiness, but somehow felt cheated by it. Everyone sitting around the table, he would call friend. Yet he had never taken the time to see them as anything other than rangers. Seeing Billie and Matt together made them seem more like people, real people, the way he used to be. When had he become nothing more than a uniform? When had the job become his only life?
His feelings must have shown. Billie laughed at him and said, not unkindly, “Come on, boss. Most of us a have a life outside of the uniform.”
“You should try it some time,” David grinned and sipped his beer.
They had a good laugh at Hudson's expense, Hudson included, and the tension he'd felt when he walked in faded. They took a few minutes to enjoy the peppers, beer, and normal table conversation before David brought them back on point.
“Where do you want to start, boss?”
He wasn't sure when the 'boss' thing had started, nor was he entirely sure he was okay with it. It was something the younger rangers called Mike, out of respect for his age and experience. He didn't want to be the old man of the bunch, but more than that, he didn't want to take anything away from Mike, dead or not.
Setting it aside for the moment, he pointed to David and said, “Let's start with you. What happened in the accounting room today and did I see what I thought I saw?”
“You mean her coming unplugged? Yeah, you saw right. One minute I had her cornered, off balance and on the verge of breaking. The next, all systems off, game over, the lights are on but nobody's home. She looked and sounded like a sleepwalker when she talked to me before walking out of the room.”
“I might be able to explain that,” Billie said, dipping peppers in the sauce. “But tell us what was going on before that.”
“I might have stretched the truth a little,” he shrugged. “Okay, I might have outright lied.” He went over the interview as best he could remember it, double-checking his notes from time to time.
When he finished, he took a long drink from his beer, shook his head and said, “Funny thing was, when I told her we matched her snow shoes to the ones at the scene and she said she hadn't made it that far, I was sure she was lying. When I told her that we knew she called him from the Lodge last night—which was a half-truth, we know the call came from there, but can't prove that it was her—she was completely lost, confused. I'm sure of it, but when she started to deny it, I didn't buy it. Yet when she went to leave, and she told me she didn't know what happened, I was freaked because of the look in her eyes, but I believed her.”
“What was your overall impression?” Hudson asked.
David shook his head and took another drink before answering. “Do I think she was lying to me in there? Yes… and no. Do I think she killed Mike? I just don't know. Do I think she is capable of murder? Without a doubt. I just couldn't get a solid read on her, but when she turned from the window and spoke to me, I believed her, yeah, but she scared the hell out of me. This is a dangerous woman, there's no doubt of it. Not for me.”
Hudson looked at Billie. She leaned forward and nodded to David, “You're right on so many levels. Hudson,
did you get the file I sent to your personal email?”
He nodded and finished swallowing the deep fried jalapeño he was chewing on. “The record started when she was around six, the last was about fifteen years ago when she was about twenty-five. A state hospital in Wyoming.”
Billie nodded, sipped her beer and looked as if she was trying to figure out where to start. “That's actually the release date. She'd been in there since she was sixteen. I just have the basics, my informant couldn't get me much, but it was enough. She was court ordered, after killing her stepfather. She got out nine years later, after being diagnosed with, and treated for, paranoid schizophrenia.”
Calvin choked on his drink. “You mean, like, the voices made her do it?”
“Don't know. Sounds like she refused to talk to anyone about killing the man. The court ordered a competency hearing because of something nasty that happened during the arrest. The defense pulled up some of her old files and used it as evidence. She wasn't found competent to stand trial and after she spent a year in the asylum, the case was decided. Not guilty due to mental disease or defect.”
She let that sink in before continuing. “It explains her reaction to the rapid back and forth of the questions. She's extremely intelligent, but schizophrenics, the bad cases anyway, can't track that fast. She couldn't keep up with you. She needed time to organize her thoughts, make sense out of them, and you weren't giving it to her.”
“She's a writer,” Hudson added. “I read one of her books, disturbing as hell. A lot of the back content involves child abuse.”
“It probably helps her think, gets her head clear. As far as the content, I did some reading on paranoid schizophrenia and I gotta tell you, I don't even want to know what's going on in her head. It's got to be a very dark place. As far as the child abuse content in her book, the majority of experts seem to believe that the disease is inherent, they're born with it and it's not progressive. There are some who believe serious drug use or trauma can intensify it. And on that note, the incident when she was six.”
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