Murder in the Outback

by Anisa Claire West

  “Nice to meet you, Paul,” I said carelessly as I flew out the door, refusing to make chit chat with the leering stranger.

  Cruising through the empty roads of New South Wales, I felt victorious when I finally reached my destination: Warrumbungle National Park and Mountain Range or Warrumbungles for short. Blue-tinged peaks crested towards the horizon as endless rows of trees and shrubs embellished the landscape. The air was profoundly parched yet steamy despite the abundance of greenery. Excitedly I whipped out my camera and snapped photos of exotic woodland bird species and marsupials. To my delight, a kangaroo hopped out of the woods just long enough for me to take a sequence of motion shots.

  I sighed contentedly as my camera clicked; this one moment was worth the whole exhausting trek from Los Angeles. Walking deeper into the bush, I inhaled the earthy sweetness of the environment and stole a few sips of water from my canteen. The afternoon sun was at its height and the light would soon wane as evening conquered day. I momentarily froze as voices echoed along a thirsty breeze. Frightened at first, I relaxed a little as I recognized the voices as female. The voices inched closer until I was standing in front of two young women who looked like sisters. Clad in mini-dresses and two-inch sandals, the fashionable redheads looked completely out of place.

  “Hi there!” One of them addressed me amiably in an accent that I recognized as American.

  “Hi,” I replied cautiously.

  “Taking some photos?” The other one asked inanely as she focused on my camera.

  “Um, yeah. What about you?” I asked.

  “Staking out a good place to camp,” the first one answered as I gave her a perplexed look. “Oh we’re not going camping now,” she giggled. “Not in these dresses. We just wanted to find a good spot that’s close to the park entrance. I’m Karen and this is my sister, Jenna. We’re from Phoenix.”

  “So we’re used to this crazy heat!” Jenna joked. “Where are you from?”

  “I’m Rita. From California,” I replied. “And I’m not used to this heat. It always feels like heaven in Santa Monica.”

  “Ooh Santa Monica! Lucky you! I don’t think I would need a vacation if I lived there,” Karen mused. “Are you here by yourself?”

  I groaned inwardly, wondering if I should keep a tally of how many people asked me that question. “Yes, but…”

  “Oh then you should hang out with us! We were going to grab dinner now. Wanna come?” Karen invited.

  “Thanks, but I just got here. And I plan on taking a lot of pictures,” I replied.

  “You shouldn’t be here by yourself,” Jenna scolded as my lips tightened.

  “So I’ve been told,” I muttered. “I’m sure the bush isn’t as dangerous as everyone is saying.”

  “No, you’re right. It’s more dangerous,” Jenna said darkly.

  “Let’s mind our business, Jenna. But maybe we can have a drink one night?” Karen suggested brightly. “Let me give you my cell number, Rita.”

  Obligingly, I punched her phone number into my cell phone even though I had no intention of ever calling the woman. “Thanks. Enjoy your camping!” I said, scurrying forward into the untamed depths of the park.

  The women’s voices evaporated like raindrops under the sun as I refocused my attention on photographing every awe-inspiring critter to appear in front of my camera lens. Without warning, I tripped over a bulky object and fell forward on my knees. Dirt smeared across my pants as I staggered to my feet and looked down at the ground to see what had caused my fall. I narrowed my eyes at a tightly corded burlap sack that lay underneath the base of a gum tree. “What is this?” I whispered as an ominous shiver coursed through me. Horrified, I shrieked as I noticed something resembling a human foot protruding from the bottom of the sack.

  Chapter 3

  Muffling my scream by clamping a hand over my mouth, I tightened my grip on the camera and lifted the apparatus to my perspiring face. Instinctively, I snapped a bunch of photos of the gruesome sight, sensing that I had stumbled upon a crime scene and needed to record my findings. Then, without another glance at the motionless sack, I pounded out of the bush towards the park entrance.

  In my terrified haste, I bumped into a tree trunk as the rough bark burrowed a gash into my forehead. The wound already felt tenderly painful to the touch and I knew I’d probably be sporting a huge goose egg for the rest of my Australian sojourn. The trees were an indecipherable labyrinth that made me feel like I was running in circles. “Where do I go?” I mumbled as my head spun from the impact of my collision with the tree as well as from dehydration and possibly the onset of heat stroke. Even though I was desperate to get out of the park, I knew I needed to slow down or risk passing out with no one to revive me.

  Pressing the nearly empty canteen to my lips, I poured the lukewarm water down my throat and nearly choked as footsteps padded nearby. Suspending my breath, I clutched the canteen to my chest and waited, hoping that the person would bypass me. If only I had the power to make myself invisible…yes, if I could possess any super power, invisibility would surely be it. Right after I sprouted wings so that I could soar out of the park unharmed!

  I swallowed and clenched my eyes shut in a moment of defeat as the footsteps drew closer. Forcing myself to open my eyes, I turned to my right and noticed a grizzly looking man carrying a knapsack and a gallon of water. Dressed in hiking gear, the dark haired man appeared to be exploring the Outback alone as well. He nodded and smiled in my direction as I offered a slight upturn of my lips. Apparently, that semi-smile was enough to make the stranger approach and introduce himself.

  “Hi! I hope I didn’t scare you,” he said in an accent that didn’t quite sound Australian but wasn’t American either.

  “No, not at all,” I lied. Please just keep walking. Don’t talk to me. Oh man, I should have listened to Heidi…and everyone else…

  “I’m Clive,” the man smiled behind a thick but well-kept beard as jade eyes shone in the fading sunlight.

  “Rita,” I automatically replied. Ugh! Why did I tell him my real name? The heat must be making me delirious…

  “You’re American, right?” He guessed.

  “Yes,” I answered tensely.

  “I’m from England myself. Here on a little hiking holiday,” Clive provided as I nodded apprehensively and wet my lips with the tip of my tongue. Perceptibly, Clive groaned, “I did scare you, didn’t I? I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  “Listen, I swear I’m not some psycho. I’m actually a school teacher back in England. I teach world history to teenagers. God help me.” He rolled his eyes as if the thought of his job utterly exhausted him.

  Despite my misgivings, his comment earned a husky laugh from me. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Clive, but I was just heading out…”

  “So was I. Why don’t we walk together?” He suggested as I wracked my brain trying to formulate an excuse of why we shouldn’t walk together. But I knew that anything I said could be interpreted as rude and I really didn’t need to tick off a male stranger who, I just noticed, stood about 6’2 inches tall and easily weighed 200 pounds.

  “Okay sure,” I agreed, but secretly I was wondering whether he had anything to do with the dead body I had found under the gum tree. He seemed genuine enough, but I was so rattled from unearthing a shrouded corpse that I wasn’t inclined to trust anyone until I was in a less vulnerable position…like home in Santa Monica under the covers in my bedroom...

  “So what do you do back in the States?” He asked conversationally.

  “I’m a photo editor for Gourmet Girl magazine.” I saw no harm in revealing the name of the publication since I no longer worked there.

  “Sweet! And what brings you to Aussie land?”

  “Wildlife photography,” I answered honestly.

  “Nice! And what have you been able to photograph so far? Any emus or koalas? Koalas are my favorite. Those little buggers are adorable, don’t you think?” Clive’s conversation flowed
smoothly and he seemed unaffected by my terse responses to his animated questions.

  “Not yet. But I did get some nice shots of a kangaroo,” I replied, warming ever so slightly to the stranger. Glancing up at his face from my comparatively low stance of 5’6”, I had to admit that he was handsome. His features had a regal sculpted quality and his genial smile was pretty irresistible. Somewhere in his early thirties, Clive likely had no problem getting dates back in England.

  “Very cool. And where are you headed to now?” He asked casually.

  “Back to my hotel,” I said cautiously, not inclined to share my horrifying discovery in the wilderness.

  “Yeah, I thought I’d head back to my hotel too. I’m staying at the Wallaby Inn. It’s not a bad little place, but it’s no Ritz Carlton either,” he quipped wryly.

  We’re staying in the same hotel. That’s just great. I’m not going to be able to get away from this guy…not that I really want to. I’ve never been skillful at masking my feelings, so I was sure Clive could tell that I was attracted to him, reluctant though the attraction was. But should I dare to tell him that I was staying at the Wallaby Inn too? Chances were that we would run into each other anyway at some point in that little hole-in-the-wall joint, so I didn’t see any point in keeping the information top secret.

  “I’m staying there too,” I confided. “With my toy poodle.” My lips curved into a grin.

  “You brought your dog with you from the States?” He chuckled as I started to feel more and more at ease with the charismatic stranger.

  “I know it’s kind of crazy, but I’m going to be here for a month, and I didn’t want to be away from him that long,” I confessed, really letting my guard down.

  “I’ve got a cat at home myself. Her name is Jangles. She’s a fussy thing. Refuses to eat anything other than artisan cheese and Greek yogurt. My sister’s babysitting the little rascal at the moment,” Clive shared as I giggled.

  “Sounds like someone’s been spoiling her,” I observed as he nodded and winked. Heaving a deep breath, I let my guard down and ventured, “Did you see anything…um, strange on your hike today? Anything that looked out of place?”

  “No, I didn’t. But this was my first time at this park, so I couldn’t say what would look out of place and what wouldn’t,” Clive replied frankly.

  Feeling as though I would burst if I didn’t share my macabre secret, I blurted, “I think I saw a dead body under a tree.”

  “What?!” Clive took a giant step back. “Are you kidding?”

  Panting with fear at the memory, I shook my head adamantly. “No, I’m not kidding at all. Some person was wrapped up in a burlap sack. I couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman because all I saw was a foot…” My body convulsed and Clive looked aghast. “I took a picture of it with my camera…”

  “You took a picture? Why?” He asked incredulously.

  “To show the police. The person was obviously a murder victim and the police are going to need all the help they can get with the body out here in the middle of nowhere,” I explained.

  “Let me see the picture,” Clive prompted as though he didn’t believe me.

  I held up my digital camera for him to see. The image seemed to disturb him deeply as he immediately looked away with a sickened expression on his face. I deftly slipped the camera back into my pack and stared awkwardly down at the ground. “I’m actually going to the police before I go back to the hotel.”

  Curtly, the man nodded and paced briskly ahead of me. “Pleasure meeting you,” he grumbled unconvincingly as he left me standing alone with a mass of butterflies bouncing erratically in my stomach.

  Chapter 4

  My canteen was completely empty by the time I reached the park entrance. Stopping at a concession stand, I purchased a bottle of spring water, indescribably relieved to taste the cold clean liquid. My cell phone was showing just one bar, meaning that service was marginal at best. Fingers trembling, I dialed 000, which is Australia’s equivalent of 911. I tried not to think of the abrupt way Clive had left me in the park. I didn’t blame him for being spooked, but his reaction seemed a little extreme.

  “Triple zero, emergency services,” a decidedly Australian tenor clipped.

  “I need to report something I saw at Warrumbungle National Park,” I whispered nervously.

  “Okay, what did you see?” The male dispatcher asked with calm reserve.

  Faltering, I cleared my throat and whispered, “A dead body. Wrapped in burlap.”

  “And whereabouts in the park did you come upon the body?”

  “Not too far in. Maybe less than a mile from the entrance…”

  “I need directions….north, south, east, west?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, feeling pathetically inadequate. “I just know that it was under a gum tree.”

  “Okay, we’ll be sending some officers right away. The dogs should be able to sniff it out. Can I get your name?”

  “Rita Stanford. I’m here on vacation staying at the Wallaby Inn if you need any more information from me,” I offered.

  “Thank you, Ms. Stanford. Are you still at the park?”

  “Yes, I’m at the park entrance. Should I wait for the police?”

  “If you don’t mind. They’ll have some questions that you might be able to help them with. They should be coming round in about 10 minutes. Just hold tight and stay on the line with me.”

  For the next quarter hour, mostly dead air passed between the anonymous dispatcher and his very jittery tipster. I voraciously wanted to nap in my air conditioned hotel room and cuddle with Pouf, but I couldn’t just leave the scene. Finally, two squadron cars pulled up to the park entrance, sirens and lights conspicuously blaring. I gave a shy wave and started walking towards them.

  “G’day miss. I’m Chief Patterling,” the stocky man extended a chubby hand as I noted that his uniform looked as though it might burst at the seams. With a sun-roughened complexion and hot pink face, he looked like he had spent the greater part of his life in trying to nail the perfect tan.

  “I’m Rita Stanford. There’s a dead body…”

  “Yes, do you think you could retrace your steps and lead us to it?” Chief Patterling asked as his subordinates followed us into the park with a handful of police dogs on leashes.

  “I’ll try. I took a picture of the body.” Reluctantly, I showed the chief the grisly photograph as I recalled how severe Clive’s reaction had been. But the seasoned chief had probably seen far more graphic pictures during his tenure and didn’t blink an eye.

  “Yes, that’s a human body,” he determined grimly. “Even though all we can see is one foot.”

  “Is it common for bodies to be tossed in the park?” I asked innocently. In California, the desert was a veritable dumping ground for murder victims. But apparently, the same was not true of this popular national park in Australia.

  Chief Patterling frowned. “No, not at all. This is a highly unusual circumstance.”

  We plodded on as the chief asked me an assortment of general questions regarding my reasons for traveling to Australia, how long I was staying in the country, and the dreaded inquiry: what are you doing here alone? Sigh. After about fifteen minutes of walking, the dogs suddenly became agitated and barked ferociously. I glanced up as the canines ran towards a circle of gum trees and stubbornly settled at the base of one trunk.

  “Looks like they found the body,” Chief Patterling remarked as he activated his walkie talkie. “Where’s the ambulance? We need paramedics ASAP. Body located.”

  I stood meekly in the background as chaos erupted and the body was carried on a stretcher out of the park. Several more rounds of questions followed as I answered each one as calmly as I could even though I was quivering inside. A sharp crimson sunset was crackling through the sky by the time the police officers let me go, assuring me that they would be in touch if I could be of further assistance. Chief Patterling also slipped me his business card with his direct phone line in ca
se I remembered any other details in retrospect.

  Relieved, I climbed into the Jeep and fired up the ignition. As I was about to throw the vehicle into reverse and burn rubber back to the hotel, I noticed a man dressed in shocking neon green pants and matching tank top. The oddly dressed fellow was running from the park as though an evil phantom were chasing him. He roughly wiped his sweaty brow and shot me a penetrating look before boarding a sedan and speeding away onto the gravel road.

  Was he running from the police? Did he have anything to do with the crime? It seemed absurd for someone to dispose of a body while wearing such conspicuous clothes, but then again, criminals could be pretty asinine. I sighed and maneuvered out of the parking lot. My first day of wildlife photography had been too wild. In my gut, I knew that I would never return to the park. As darkness clung to the horizon, I wasn’t sure if I would be staying in Australia at all.

  ***

  Pouf’s whiny barking awoke me from a profound sleep the next morning. Too frazzled to go to a restaurant, I had ordered a room service dinner of beer battered fish with fried potatoes and onion rings on the side. It was the kind of meal that would make my alfalfa sprout-nibbling California friends cringe, but I had been famished after the long stressful day in the Outback.

  Throwing on a tee-shirt and pair of jeans, I stumbled out of my room like a zombie to take Pouf for his required sunrise walk. The hotel was deathly silent and I was gratified to see someone other than pervy Paul manning the front desk. I waved and nodded to the elderly clerk on duty as he favored me with a weathered smile and convivial, “Good morning! Cute little dog!”

  “Good morning and thank you,” I said softly, passing by the desk on my way out the door.

  From behind me, I heard a heavy set of footsteps approaching. Immediately my entire body stiffened as I wavered at the door. Gingerly tossing a glance over my shoulder, I saw that the owner of the dense footsteps was the handsome English schoolteacher I had encountered in the bush.