I was sitting at the top of the hill and resting on a large rock out-cropping. The view was fantastic. I could see Willie Nelson’s old ranch in the distance and Mount Evans still covered in snow right behind it. Below me to the north, I could barely make out the traffic on Upper Bear Creek Road. I would have stayed there all day if Fred hadn’t brought back his prize.
“What do you have now, Freddie?” I asked when he dropped what looked like a skinned squirrel. I knew better than to reach out for his find. He would grab it and want to play keep-away, so I pretended not to care and waited. He kept watching me for the slightest clue that the game was on. When none came, he got bored and went to get a drink of rain water out of a depression in the huge rock I was sitting on. His forgotten prize wasn’t a squirrel, rabbit, or other small game. It was part of a much larger animal — a very large animal. I’m no hunter or wildlife expert, but I know bear fur when I see it.
“Where did you find this, Boy?” Fred had returned with a stick and dropped it at my feet.
When Fred didn’t answer, I got up and began walking in the direction he had come from earlier. Fred led me to the carcass fifty yards away. It was behind another out-cropping ten feet off the trail. This was not a kill by another wild animal. Someone had removed its head and cut open its stomach. It had to be the work of poachers.
“Get away from there,” I yelled when Fred went sniffing around the dead animal. When he ignored me, I grabbed him by the collar and led him away. I didn’t let him go until we were halfway down the trail.
I sat down on a boulder and held his head between my hands. “Sometimes you act just like a wild animal. That’s a crime scene up there not a canine buffet.”
He turned his head back up the hill, then looked me in the eyes and smiled. It was a smile only a dog owner could recognize, but it was a smile. I ruffled the hair on his head, then checked to see how many bars were on my cell phone. It was as dead as the bear. I knew I had to call someone and make a report, so I got up and started back down the trail. Fred was smart enough to follow and not bolt back up the hill. We kept on going past my cabin and took the shortcut to Bonnie’s, through my back yard and across a dry ravine.
She was on her back deck and saw us coming. “Well, if it ain’t my two best friends,” she said when we got closer. “You guys must be psychic. I tried to call you and invite you to dinner, but your phone isn’t picking up.”
Fred made it to the deck before me and was already getting his ear massage when I joined them. “Tell me about it,” I answered, watching Bonnie pretend to kiss him on the head. “Why do the batteries always seem to die when you need them the most? Can I use your phone, Bon?”
She gave Fred a pat on the head then stood up. “Murphy’s law. Grab yourself a beer from the cooler and I’ll go look for my phone. I’m always leaving it everywhere except on the cradle. I hope that battery isn’t dead too.”
I did as she said and helped myself to a cold beer after she went back into the house. I could hear her phone beeping on the far side of the deck. She must have hit the pager button when she couldn’t find it in the house.
“It’s out here, Bonnie.” I yelled. “You left it on the rail.”
She returned with a sheepish grin and a fresh glass of her bourbon. “Kind of miss the old-fashioned phone. The cord was a pain in the ass, but I never once put it where I couldn’t find it.”
I held a finger to my lips in the universal sign of silence. “Officer Julie Bartowski, please,” I said to the person on the other end of the line.
“Oops. I didn’t see you on the phone,” Bonnie said softly and took a chair close enough to hear my conversation.
“I need to report a possible poaching. I found a black-bear carcass today and it looks like some vital parts were cut off.”
Bonnie’s eyes grew wider by at least a centimeter when she listened in on my conversation.
“Yes, I know there’s a hotline for this, but she was out here this morning and I thought… yeah. What’s that number?” I didn’t bother to write it down and waited for her to finish reciting it. “Would you please ask Officer Botowski to call me when she gets in? She has my number.”
I clicked off the phone and looked over at Bonnie. “God, I hate bureaucracy. ‘Sorry, you need to report that to the hot line.’ I’d like to report her to the hot line. What the hell is wrong with speaking to a real person?”
“You found a dead bear up the hill?” Bonnie asked before I could say anything else.
“Fred did. It was all I could do to stop him from dining on it.” Fred looked up at me at the mention of his name. He had followed Bonnie and was lying at her feet again.
“It’s kind of early for them, isn’t it?” she said while petting Fred. The traitor leaned into her to get an ear-rub, forgetting who his master was.
“You think I woke her up? Is that why she wouldn’t put me through?”
“No, Silly. Bears. Aren’t they still hibernating?” She got up from petting Fred and went over to where she had left her glass. “I need another. Why don’t you grab another beer and come inside?”
“I don’t think so,” I answered going to the cooler as ordered. “I believe they come out of hibernation in early spring.”
“Well, I want to hear all about that bear while I get dinner ready. You guys are staying, I hope? I made enough chili to feed a bear.” Then she realized her pun and laughed while going into the house.
Julie didn’t call, of course. I doubt if my message was ever relayed. I had even gone to the trouble of removing a battery from my motor home and bringing it into my cabin so I could charge my cell phone. When morning came and after I let Fred out, I looked up the hotline number and left my report about the bear. I was done with it as far as I was concerned. I needed to get back to work on my latest how-to book and then concentrate on finding Lonnie’s killer.
Okay, so what if no one else considered Lonnie’s accident a murder? It seemed they were all content to call it a careless accident and point the finger at me. I knew in my gut that Lonnie had been murdered. I just had to prove it.
I had been assuming all along that the killer was after Bonnie and unlucky Lonnie just happened to be at the wrong place at the right time. Was I wrong that the rigged tank was meant for her? What if Lonnie was the intended victim all along?
So far my list of suspects was Jonathan and Alec, Reverend Johnson, and Charlie Randolph.
Chuck didn’t seem to have a motive or the means to kill Lonnie. He was nowhere near the barbeque during the picnic, but why was he so gung-ho to have me tarred and feathered?
The good reverend had the motive if what Lonnie said about Shelia getting more than religion was true. More people have been murdered for love than for almost any reason I can think of, and let’s not forget the insurance. Money is probably second on the list of motives.
Which brings me to Jonathan. Was Lonnie blackmailing him? If he was the poacher, he had both motive and Alec had the opportunity, but that didn’t make any sense either. How would he know Lonnie would be using the barbeque? Then I remembered Chuck had paid Lonnie to do the cooking.
There was no way Chuck could be poaching. The only time I saw him move faster than a one-legged toad was when he thought Marissa was in danger. He would never have the stamina to hike these mountains chasing game. I needed more information. Maybe Ray’s book could shed some light on this enigma as it seemed to be the one thing all my suspects had in common.
There was no longer any need to edit and correct the manuscript. Margot had fired me from that job, so I skimmed through the computer file I had scanned until I found something interesting, at which point I would jot down some notes with the page number and continue. It was so interesting that I kept nodding off. I was sound asleep when my cell started ringing.
The cell didn’t actually ring, I had it programmed to play some of my Beethoven favorites. This time it was the opening bars of the Moonlight Sonata, which hardly brought me out of my stupor. I tripped
over Fred, who was asleep at my feet, in my haste to find the phone in the dark cabin.
“Damn it,” I yelled while accidently turning the phone on by touching it.
“Jake? It’s Julie. Is this a bad time to talk?”
Now I was fully awake. I realized I had been dreaming about her. This was unreal. “Ah, hi, Julie. Sorry about that. I stubbed my toe.”
“I just got your message. What’s this about a bear? You found a decapitated bear up there?”
I tried to imagine where she was. It was too late to be in her office. Was she lying in bed while talking to me?
“That and his private parts,” I answered.
There was a long pause. I checked my phone to see if it was working, then I heard her speak. “They cut off the genitals?”
“And slit him open right up the front. I think they took some other organs, including the heart.”
“Sounds like poachers. I’d come out there now, but I was in the middle of a dinner date when the office called. I’ll be out there in the morning with my team. Could you call me if you hear anything suspicious in the meantime?”
“You got it, Boss. Should I use this number?” I asked, referring to the number on my caller ID.
“Yes. It’s my cell number,” she answered. At least I didn’t have to talk to her receptionist again.
I tried to get back to Ray’s manuscript, but couldn’t. Even if the book hadn’t been the best sleeping aid since sleeping pills, I couldn’t stop thinking about Julie’s date. It never occurred to me that she was attached. Was the guy her boyfriend?
Fred didn’t have to wake me the next morning when he heard the cars coming up the road before dawn. I had heard them too and woke in time to see Julie out my bedroom window as she left her SU, heading toward my cabin. I frantically searched for some pants before rushing to greet her.
“Morning, Officer,” I said when I opened the door. “Aren’t we early birds today? Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? It won’t take but a minute.” I found myself babbling again. I really wanted to tell her how terrific she looked with her hair pulled into a pony tail that was sticking out the back of her cap. Even in the dim light of dawn she was gorgeous — maybe not Hollywood gorgeous — more like Daisy Mae than one of those skinny starlets.
“I’d love to, Jake, but we really need to get to that kill. Would you mind zipping up and take us to it?”
My face must have turned as red as her hair. I quickly turned around and zipped up my pants. “Sure,” I forced a reply. “Just let me grab a coat.”
Once I had shown Julie and her crew the carcass, she sent Fred and me packing. Bonnie was waiting at the cabin when we returned. “What’s going on, Jake?” she asked when we were within earshot.
I pointed up the hill toward the hiking trail. “Julie and her merry band of men are up there checking on the bear.”
“Julie? Whatever happened to Officer Bartowski?” Her smile was bigger than the entire Cheshire cat.
“Come on in for some coffee, Bon, I need to ask you something.” I walked past her without waiting for a response and went inside to the kitchen where I started rinsing out the old percolator. I noticed her smile had been replaced by a look of confusion.
She leaned against the kitchen counter, watching me start my camp stove and place the percolator over the flames. “I think they still make the best coffee. Don’t you, Jake?”
I set the burner so as not to blacken the pot with its sooty flames. “Not really. A little too strong for my tastes, but it will have to do until I get the lights turned back on.”
“So what is it you wanted to ask me?”
“Let’s sit down, Bon,” I said and motioned toward the table. “I had a few questions about your father. I got back into his book last night and a couple of things he said didn’t make sense.”
Her pupils doubled in size. “His book? How’s that possible? Did you copy it?”
“Sort of,” I answered sheepishly. “I scanned it into a Word document so I wouldn’t have to type it all, at least most of it. My scanner jammed around page two hundred or so and Margot took it back before I could finish. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but say the word and I’ll hit the delete button.”
Bonnie laughed and pushed me aside to lower the flame on my camp stove. I had been so distracted with my explanation that I didn’t notice the coffee pot boiling over. “Don’t be silly, Silly. You are some kind of genius. I would have never thought of doing that. So what is it you want to know?”
Fred must have tired of listening to us. He was standing over his bowl and staring at me, so I got up to get him water and food, but kept on talking. “I know it’s supposed to be a work of fiction. Your father says so in his introduction, yet it reads more like an autobiography. It’s a story about a marine and his island-hopping adventures during the Pacific campaign of the war. Didn’t you say your father did that?”
“Yes. He even won a purple heart on Peleliu.”
“I don’t know,” I said after taking care of Fred and sitting back down. “Maybe it’s because of the first person point of view. It sure reads like an autobiography. Anyway, did you know his protagonist was witness to a fragging?”
Bonnie had taken the liberty to turn off the stove and pour us each a cup. She nearly spilled hers. “Fragging? I hope you’re not telling me my father was gay?”
“Shame on you, Bon,” I said jokingly, “It’s not what you think. Fragging means killing one of your own and making it look like an enemy attack. At least that’s one definition. The one your father used.”
“Daddy killed one of his own marines?”
I took the cup she was waving in front of me before she spilled it. After taking a sip, I continued. “He, I mean his protagonist, witnessed a murder. He saw another marine shoot their lieutenant in the back with a rifle from a dead Japanese soldier. Then he put the rifle back in the hands of the enemy and rushed over to the lieutenant pretending to help.”
Bonnie looked confused, but before she could answer, Fred went to the door and started barking.
“Looks like the posse’s back,” I said on my way to stop Fred from breaking down my door. I checked the zipper on my pants then opened the door. “What do you think?” I asked the beautiful redhead. “Is it a bear?” I had caught Julie with her hand in midair, ready to knock on the door. One of her fellow agents was standing on the stairs behind her, I assume to watch her backside.
“Can we come in, Jake?”
I opened the door wide and gave a little bow while waving them inside with one hand and holding Fred’s collar with the other. His eyes were all over Julie’s partner and I couldn’t take the chance he’d jump the guy to protect his turf.
“Does he bite?” asked the other officer, with a hand resting on his closed holster.
“He’s a pussycat, Darrell,” Julie said, “but I know how you are with dogs, so why don’t you and John go back to the office? I’ll be along soon.” I could tell from her expression and tone of voice that she wasn’t asking; it was an order.
Darrell mumbled something I couldn’t hear, and then left as he was told. I took Fred through the kitchen to put him on the back deck.
Julie wasted no time crossing the living room and bending down to rub Fred behind the ears. I swear I heard him purr; maybe he really was a pussycat. “Don’t you worry, Big Fella, I won’t let that mean man hurt you,” she said to him.
“Can I get you anything, Officer?” Bonnie asked. She had been watching the whole thing from the kitchen table and had a huge grin on her face. “Jake just made some of his famous burnt coffee.”
Julie stood up and looked over at Bonnie. “Burnt coffee?” Then she turned back to me, “How do you burn coffee?”
Bonnie burst out laughing. “Cream and sugar?” she asked between chuckles. “I’d offer you one of those artificial things, but Jake doesn’t use it.”
“Sugar would be great.” She gave Fred one last pat on the head and turned her attention tow
ard me. She could have been the poster-girl for the Ireland tourist bureau; even her eyes were green. “It’s definitely a poacher, Jake. Looks like you’ll get the top reward if we ever catch who did it.”
I wanted to ask how much that would be, but let it go. Bonnie must have read my mind. “How much is that, Officer?”
“Julie. Please call me Julie,” she said, turning toward Bonnie. “One thousand dollars. Twice the normal reward for crimes this heinous. They took every conceivable organ you can think of.”
“Why would they do that?” Bonnie asked. “Is it some kind of devil worship or something?”
“No. I don’t think so. Those organs are worth a small fortune on the Asian market. They use them for everything from curing ED to arthritis.”
I took it as my cue to get the coffee and went to the sink and rummaged for my cleanest dirty cup. “That’s sort of what I figured too,” I said while rinsing out the cup in a pail of water. “Just like the antlers, but I doubt if they’ll be back now that they know Fred is here.”
Julie had seen me at the sink. “I’ll have to pass on the coffee, Jake. I really need to get going. My guys placed some game cameras out on the trail and another where the trail crosses the road. Hopefully the perps will try again and give us a picture of their license number.”
I put the cup on the table and followed her to the door. “So do you believe me now?” I asked before she could reach the door knob.
She went ahead and opened the door anyway, but turned before leaving. “If you mean do I believe you didn’t shoot that deer? I believed you yesterday, Jake. You’re too sweet to do anything like that,” she answered and winked at me.
I stood in the open door and watched her leave. The old tune from the fifties, What is Love, playing in my head. It had to be the ponytail.
Chapter 8
Bonnie was in the kitchen washing my dirty dishes when I closed the door and joined her and Fred, who was waiting by her side for any scrap of food she might find. “I think she took a shine to you,” she said without looking up.
02-A Book to Die For (2014) Page 7
