Aspen in Moonlight

by Kelly Wacker

  Using her car’s GPS, she followed the route she had planned, taking a two-lane state highway to the unpaved county road that led to Moose Lake. It was a beautiful drive on the smooth highway, the sky clear and the rising sun bathing everything in a crisp, clear light. The road curved gently, following the terrain of the lower edge of the mountainside for a few miles and providing views of lush meadows. Gaining in elevation, the road twisted and turned as it traversed coniferous forest. Occasional breaks in the trees provided stunning vistas of the peaks in the distance. In many areas the trees created a patchwork mix of green and rusty brown, evidence of the devastating forest fires that had ravaged this area a few years ago. In a few places, healthy stands of trees had been thinned first by fire and then by chainsaws. Dry dead trees had been removed to prevent them becoming fuel for a future fire. It was a heartbreaking sight.

  As she approached the crest of the mountain, a yellow sign indicated the road she was looking for lay ahead. It appeared quickly on the left, just before a sharp turn to the right. Watching carefully for oncoming traffic, Melissa turned off the paved road. She paused to read the routered and painted wooden signs identifying a church camp and a ranch ahead. Another sign stated that the public road became private in four miles. From her maps, Melissa knew Moose Lake should be a few miles more past that point.

  Excited, she drove forward and ran through a mental checklist of the things she had packed—the cooler that contained more food that she needed for a picnic lunch for two, a blanket, emergency Mylar blankets, and a full five-gallon container of water. Stowed in the back of her car, in a pocket above the spare tire, was the first-aid kit she always kept on hand. Her backpack was loaded with a couple of books, a notebook, pens, and a waterproof jacket for an unexpected rainstorm.

  The gravel road was well-graded and snaked down into a valley, where turnoffs for the church camp and the ranch were clearly indicated with more wooden signs. She lowered the window as the road continued along the meadow’s edge, the air fresh and sweetly scented. She saw a small lake and paused to glance at the open map on the passenger seat, confirming its presence on the printed page. Ahead of her the road turned, and before entering a stand of trees, she spotted another sign, this one metal and professionally fabricated. In stern language it indicated that beyond the sign was a nature preserve owned by the Colorado Bear Conservancy and that access without a permit was not allowed. A second sign, in all capital letters, explicitly stated that no hunting was allowed.

  Melissa read the signs. Technically, she was trespassing, but considering that she was planning a surprise romantic picnic for the conservancy’s director, it seemed like the rules didn’t really apply to her. The road narrowed and was less well maintained, but she didn’t find any ruts or large rocks like the jeep track Sula had driven on in her Bronco. Taking it slow, she continued on the road, winding up and down the hillsides.

  Coming down the last hill she had glimpses of the lake, its surface shimmering in the morning light. At the bottom, the road widened into a pullout with a sign displaying the conservancy logo and reading “Moose Lake Access.”

  Elated, almost giddy, at her success in finding the lake, Melissa pulled over and stopped. It had been so much easier getting here than she expected. But she hadn’t anticipated seeing a big red Dodge pickup, trimmed in chrome, parked in the pullout. She had seen this truck before, and it took her a moment to connect it with the details of her memory. It was Kerry’s. She’d noticed her getting out of it when Sula stopped for gas before they went to dinner at the Buckaroo.

  What was Kerry doing here? Sula didn’t know what her job was, though she said Kerry claimed to be working for the government. If that was the case, it didn’t make sense that she would be on the conservancy’s preserve, which was private land. She knew Kerry was a hunting guide in addition to being an avid hunter herself, something that riled Sula. And given that Sula intensely disliked and distrusted Kerry, it didn’t seem likely that Sula would allow her access to land she managed. Could Kerry be poaching?

  Impulsively, Melissa got out of the car and walked slowly up to the truck. She glanced around and saw no sign of Kerry. Standing on the running boards, she looked into the cab, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, but a foul scent filled her nostrils with the stench of death and putrefaction. Afraid of what she might see, she turned and peered into the bed of the truck anyway. It was empty, but a line of blood, thick and coagulated in the sun, pooled between the ridges of the black plastic bed liner and had begun to attract flies. Melissa walked around to the back and saw red drops smeared on the ground, forming a trail leading toward the lake that she could glimpse beyond the trees.

  Melissa ran back to her car and got in, breathing heavily less from exertion than from fear and a rush of adrenaline. She locked the doors. Crazy thoughts went through her head, including the possibility that Kerry had murdered someone and was hiding the body. She forcibly calmed herself and attempted to rationalize her skittering thoughts. Kerry was a player, a womanizer, but she didn’t seem like a killer. But, really, how could you know? Serial killers got away with murder for years, sometimes decades, and their neighbors often never had a clue.

  Melissa stopped her mind from going down the path of what might be and instead focused on what she knew was true. Kerry was a hunter, not for food, but for the sport of it. She worked as a guide and was hired by other trophy hunters. She enjoyed hunting, and hunting meant killing. She must have killed an animal. That seemed the most plausible reason for the blood. But it was still unclear as to why she was here by the lake. Not only was it private property, but the Colorado Bear Conservancy owned it. It just didn’t make sense. The more she thought about it, the more she felt a growing unease. Whatever was going on, it didn’t seem good.

  Something was dead, and whatever Kerry was doing with the dead thing on conservancy land, she probably didn’t have permission to do it. Melissa started the engine, intending to abandon her plans for a picnic and telling Sula about what she had witnessed as soon as she could, but before she could get back on to the road, Kerry emerged from the trees, walking along a narrow path.

  Wearing matching brown and olive-green forest camouflage shirt and pants emulating branches and leaves, she appeared emotionless and inscrutable. As she approached, her countenance changed noticeably the moment she seemed to recognize Melissa. Her body relaxed as her purposeful gait shifted into a slow swagger. She lifted her chin, a nod of greeting, and flashed a wolfish grin, her teeth white against her tanned skin. Melissa had witnessed this expression before, but now Kerry seemed only a facsimile of friendliness as the coldness in her eyes persisted.

  Sula paused to survey her surroundings. She knew from the terrain that she was nearing Moose Lake, and sniffing the air, she could smell the water. If no one was nearby, she planned to circle it, searching for evidence of the trapper or the trapped. The trail camera had been placed there a few days ago, and it seemed possible that the site might give her some answers to her questions. After a thorough inspection, she planned to cut across Buckhorn Creek Ranch, steering clear of its horse and hiking trails, and make her way back to her land to be home by noon.

  She’d maintained a fast pace all morning, slowing only to inspect the places where the trail camera had been located. Twice, she found evidence of traps that had been placed and removed, but she didn’t see blood or the telltale signs of struggle: disturbed ground and broken branches where an ensnared animal flailed in desperation to free itself. She’d caught the marking scent of a lion a few times along the way, but it was faint, not fresh.

  She neared the lake following a shallow draw where the ground was soft and moist, dampening the sound of her movement. Catching the scent of raspberries, she slowed her steps, swinging her head from side to side, looking for the tantalizing treat. She rationalized that a few ripe berries would be a good energy boost. Finding the shrub, Sula stripped the ripest berries from the canes, enjoying the sweet fruit, but then dropped the berry between h
er lips, interrupted by the sound of human voices. She pitched her ears forward, seeking the location of the sounds, which seemed to be coming from the direction of the lake.

  She moved slowly and methodically toward the water, taking up a position next to a boulder, where she peered carefully around the rock, continuing to rely on her sensitive hearing as she scanned the lake’s edge. The breeze was blowing laterally across the lake, and she didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary with her keen nose. A gleam of light caught her eye, and when she focused on it, she realized she was looking at the reflection of sunlight on metal, the trim on a truck, it seemed. The breeze shifted direction suddenly, coming toward her and allowing her to discern two voices and bringing valuable information to her keen nose. She tilted her head, putting her long snout to the breeze. With nostrils flared she inhaled deeply and caught several scents. The strongest held the pungent odor of death and a musky tone she associated with deer. Her lower lip quivered on the next deep intake as she recognized the smell of something particular and peculiarly unnatural…the trapper’s cover scent. The trapper was here! Sula fought the urge to huff and snort in anger. She had more smells to sort out. A third deep intake revealed a distinctive fragrance that triggered an entirely different emotion. This was a very, very good scent that tickled her insides. This one she knew intimately.

  Sula’s mind roiled as she questioned why Melissa would be here at Moose Lake, and, more important, why she was here with the damn trapper. Confused, Sula stood on her hind legs, letting her front legs hang loosely along her sides as she stretched her neck upward and held her head high. Staring hard across the lake she finally saw the upper bodies of two people. She recognized Melissa by her silhouette. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore her bright-yellow jacket. In front of her was a…woman in camo? This was the trapper? She was taller than Melissa, and thin…Kerry!

  Suddenly, disconnected bits of information knitted together. Sula knew a Wildlife Services agent had been working the area around the time Kerry quit her job at the ranch. She had bragged about leaving for a government job but strangely didn’t want to reveal what it was. Of course, she wouldn’t tell Sula that she was a contract wildlife killer. Sula dropped to all fours with a grunt and pawed the ground in agitation. When she had seen Kerry at the gas station recently, something had bothered her deeply, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Now she realized it was her unique identifying scent that she tried to cover up with hunter’s trickery. Sula had perceived it, but given that human sense of smell was vastly inferior to a bear’s, she couldn’t clearly recognize it for what it was.

  A rage engulfed Sula like a wind-blown wildfire. Taking long strides and staying under cover of the trees, she made her way to the other side of the lake to figure out what the hell was going on.

  “Wow, so you’re out here doing government work?” Melissa tried to sound innocently enthused. Sitting in the car she thought about driving off to tell Sula that Kerry was doing something suspicious by the lake. But Sula was on her way to the lake completely unaware of what was going on. Melissa decided to engage with Kerry until Sula arrived…whenever that would be.

  “I am,” Kerry said with a cocky grin.

  Melissa didn’t buy it. If she was doing anything official on conservancy land, Sula would have mentioned it. Melissa knew that Sula didn’t know where Kerry was working, and it bothered her. Kerry was lying. But why?

  “Is this some kind of special ops, top-secret kind of thing?” She kept smiling and wagged a finger at Kerry’s camo outfit.

  Kerry narrowed her eyes. “Sort of.”

  “So, you can’t let me in on it?” Melissa forced a laugh. “I hate to tell you this, but your camo’s not working. I can see you. You can’t be that undercover.”

  Kerry laughed at her stupid joke and seemed relaxed, but she didn’t answer the question. “So why are you out here? This is off the beaten path. Tourists don’t usually come out this way.”

  “I’m not your average tourist.”

  “No, you’re not,” Kerry said salaciously, raising a single eyebrow. Her expression made Melissa feel uncomfortable, and she hoped her reaction didn’t show on her face.

  “I grew up in Colorado, remember? I like to go to the places where the tourists don’t go.”

  “Yeah, I get that.”

  “Anyway, I was planning to go for a little hike around the lake and enjoy a beautiful day far away from the madding crowd.”

  “Away from what?”

  “The madding crowd,” Melissa said while opening the passenger-side door and grabbing her backpack. “It’s an expression, the title of an old book, actually. It means to get away from hustle and bustle of city life.”

  “Always the professor, huh?”

  Melissa didn’t respond to the dig. She wanted to come across as friendly, not adversarial. She shrugged, put the pack on, and pointed in the direction Kerry had come from. No doubt, whatever she’d dragged out of the bed of the truck was out there in the woods. “Well, I’m going to take my hike and let you get back to work.”

  As soon as she stepped forward, Kerry put a hand up, stopping her. “You shouldn’t go that way.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  “There’s something you won’t want to see.”

  “Such as?”

  Kerry crossed her arms and frowned. “A dead deer.”

  “Oh! How terrible.” She focused on a dark stain on Kerry’s shirt. “Is that deer blood on your clothes? Did you shoot it?”

  “No. I didn’t shoot it.” Kerry frowned, giving her a sideways glance, and unfolded her arms. “It was hit by a car.” Melissa twisted around to get a better view of the front of Kerry’s truck. “I didn’t hit it, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “I was.” Melissa smiled. “Why did you bring it out here? Are you hiding the body?”

  “Yes,” Kerry said quickly, too eagerly. Melissa sensed that she was lying again. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. I thought I’d let scavengers take care of it. Circle of life. What better place than here? I’m not the bad person you seem to think I am.”

  “Well, I’m not the delicate flower you seem to think I am. I can handle seeing a dead deer.” Melissa wasn’t convinced that was really true. Driving past a deer that had been struck by a car was one thing, but getting close to one was not something she was sure she had the stomach for. She started walking in the direction Kerry had come from, hoping she would take the bait. The longer she stayed with her, the greater the chance Sula would show up and catch her at whatever she was doing.

  “We’ll see,” Kerry said with a harsh laugh. “Okay. If you’re determined to go that way, I’ll walk with you, at least until the deer. I’ll point you away from it. I’m sure you don’t really want to see it.”

  “Oh, are you going to be my knight in shining armor?” Or should I say bloody camo?

  “I’ll be whatever you want,” Kerry said huskily. “I still regret we never finished our date.”

  Melissa inwardly cringed. Where was Sula? She felt a rising panic when she considered that Sula might have changed her plans and wasn’t actually coming to Moose Lake. In that case, she’d do her best to keep her shit together, politely walk past the deer, and say good-bye to Kerry. And then what? She didn’t know, but she’d figure it out. She hooked her thumbs in the straps of her pack and gently rested her fingers against the canister of bear spray, mentally rehearsing how it worked. She was beginning to wish she hadn’t reconsidered her initial plan to drive away.

  Sula knew the deer was close. In human form, she could have detected the smell as unpleasant. In fur, as she was now, it was overwhelming. Looking ahead, she saw the mangled remains a few yards away. A young buck, its flesh torn and body mangled, appeared to have been hit by a car. Sula assumed the trapper put it out as bait for a mountain lion and looked around, expecting to see leg-hold traps or snares, but saw none. Melissa must have interrupted Kerry before she had a chance to set them, on conse
rvancy land, no less. Sula’s smoldering anger was about to ignite.

  Sula heard their voices, the sounds coming closer. She backed away, moving up the hillside. A large downed tree caught her eye, and she scrambled over it, intending to lay low, listen, and observe. On the other side she was surprised to find a tree stand and climbing equipment leaning against the log. She sniffed it and picked up Kerry’s altered scent. It seemed she wasn’t planning to set traps around the deer. She was going to climb the tree and wait for Notch to check out the carcass, then shoot him from above, no doubt.

  She had figured out what Kerry was planning to do later, but she still had no clue what was going on right now, nor why Melissa was here. When she heard Melissa’s raised voice, she sensed anger and an undertone of fear. Sula stopped thinking and went into action.

  “Touch me again, Kerry, and I will pepper-spray you.” Melissa pulled the canister out of the holster attached to the shoulder strap of her pack and pointed it at Kerry

  “Oh, come on…” Kerry put her hands up and laughed. “I was just going to give you a kiss. Sula’s not here, so she’ll never know. This is your big summer adventure, isn’t it? Live a little, Professor. I’ll give you a story to tell all your friends back home.” Kerry grinned and stepped forward.

  Melissa popped the safety latch off with her thumb, the orange plastic tab falling to the ground. “I’m not kidding. Back off.”

  “Fuck!” Kerry’s eyes widened, and she took several steps backward, then froze in place. “What the…fuck!”

  Melissa, stunned at her ability to impress Kerry with how serious she was, realized that Kerry wasn’t looking at her. She was staring behind her. Suspicious that it was a trick to get her to put her guard down, Melissa resisted the urge to turn and look. But when she heard rustling and an agitated hoarse, huffing sound, she knew something really was behind her. And it was big.