She shook her head. “I’m a farm girl from Oregon. I went to law school at UCLA, then got a job in a Helena law firm as an estate planner. I feel like I’m helping people, and I like feeling useful, though it’s not as exciting as what Molly does. Molly and I used to live within a few miles of each other. I really miss her.”
“There must be some law firms in Bozeman that could use a good attorney.”
Joe’s breathing was slowing down and his color was better. Dani felt her anxiety begin to ease. She nodded. “There are. I’ve already put in applications at two of them. I really want to be closer to Molly, and the timing just happened to work out, now that she’s pregnant. I can’t stand the thought of Molly having a baby and me not being there to help her with everything. She doesn’t know I’ve applied for the jobs, so don’t spill the beans. I don’t want to get her hopes up. I’ve also listed my house in Helena with a real estate agent, so I’m ready to make my move, if the opportunity presents itself.”
“Your secret’s safe with me. I hope it all works out. I know Molly would like having you nearby. How much farther to the forest service cabin?”
Dani smiled. “Another mile or so. You ready to quit?”
“Never.”
“Then we’d better get a move on, lawman.”
* * *
BY THE TIME they reached the forest service cabin, Joe was sure he was on the fast track to an early grave. Part of the problem was trying to keep his deteriorating physical condition from Dani, so he pushed himself to keep up when his sorely abused body was telling him to slow down. When the silvered old log cabin came into sight, his heart was beating like a war drum, with every beat generating a sharp pulse of pain. His lungs labored to breathe. There was a wall bench outside the cabin and he dropped onto it before he could fall.
“You okay?” Dani asked, pausing with a frown of concern.
“Just a little out of breath. Thought you said it was only a mile.”
“Did I? It’s probably closer to two and a half. This is part of the Gallatin National Forest. It’s a wilderness study area, nonmotorized, which is what keeps it so wild and primitive. Snowmobilers can’t come up here and neither can off-road vehicles. The forest service rents out this cabin for twenty bucks a night. Can you believe it? Incredible bargain, but hardly anyone uses it. Woodstove, spring water two hundred feet behind it in that little creek, bunk beds with decent mattresses. Best deal ever. Isn’t this beautiful? It’s like we’re on our very own planet.” Dani swept an arm out to encompass the rugged mountain scenery.
Joe raised his head from a bout of trying to cough up the pain in his wounded lung and looked around while blinking the sting of cold sweat out of his eyes. “Beautiful.”
“We’ll rest here a bit. Comstock must still be up where the horses are.”
“Up?” Joe glanced up at her, alarmed. “You mean, we’re going higher than this?”
“Not far. Just over that knoll there’s a big meadow in a basin where Custer usually hung out when the grass was greening up. Obviously I’m not the only one who knows that, which is why he and half his mares are dead. I hope Comstock found something. He must have, or he wouldn’t still be up here.”
“Maybe he died of a heart attack.”
Dani shook her head. “Comstock’s as tough as they come. He has quite a reputation in these parts. I’ve never met him but I’ve always wanted to.”
The admiring way she said it made Joe straighten up. He drew a cautious breath and pushed to his feet. “Then what are we sitting around here for? Let’s go find out what he’s dug up.”
CHAPTER SIX
DANI KNELT SLOWLY at the crest of the knoll and signaled to Joe, who was five steps behind her, to do the same. She called the dogs in a low voice, motioned to them to lie down beside her, which they did, then slowly shrugged out of her day pack and retrieved her camera from the bag Joe set next to her. “Bear,” she whispered as Joe drew abreast. He lowered to a prone position on the other side of Remington and peered into the valley.
“Big bear,” he agreed.
“Grizzly.” Dani kept her voice down, though the bear was a hundred yards off and intent on a meal of horseflesh. “She has two cubs with her. See them?”
Joe was propped on his elbows beside her. “Yup. Looks like we aren’t getting any closer than this.”
“Nope,” Dani said, zooming in on the trio of bruins and snapping a stream of shots. “We might see some wolves, too, if we’re lucky.”
“Where’s Comstock?”
“Probably pinned down somewhere, waiting for that bear to leave. A mother grizzly is nothing to trifle with. She probably showed up while he was investigating the scene. Maybe that’s why he’s been up here for so long.”
Joe bent his head to muffle a paroxysm of coughing, then lay silent, scanning the carnage in the meadow below. “It’s definitely an all-you-can-eat wild horse buffet for whatever’s hungry,” he said.
“The wind’s out of the west. As long as we stay where we are, she won’t smell us. We just stay put until she’s had her fill and leaves. Might as well eat our lunch while we’re waiting.” Dani nodded to her day pack. “Bernie packed us some sandwiches. There’s a thermos of tea in there, as well, and some cookies. And two dog bones. She’s the best.”
“Which horse had the baby?”
Dani pointed to the dark mound lying at the edge of the tree line. “You can barely see her, just her legs sticking out of the brush. The foal was lying in the bushes next to her. When she got to her feet and made all that crashing noise, I thought she was a bear.”
“You’re lucky she wasn’t.”
Dani glanced sidelong at him. “I’ll feel better once we’ve made contact with Ben.”
“You think that bear might’ve gotten him?”
“No. He’s too experienced, but he shouldn’t have come up here alone. He’s in his late sixties and it’s quite a hike. The sheriff should’ve come with him, but according to Molly, Sheriff Conroy’s gained too much weight in the past four years to make the climb. Rumor has it he won’t run for reelection. So there you go, lawman. You could run for sheriff this fall and keep the county residents safe.”
“Can’t imagine a more exciting career than riding herd on a couple hundred widely scattered, self-reliant and independent-minded Westerners.”
“Don’t knock it. Too much big-city excitement can land you in a hospital bed.”
“No argument there.” Joe handed her a sandwich with her name written on the wax wrapper and poured two cups of tea. Dani unwrapped her sandwich, pleased to see it was turkey and Swiss on rye. She pulled a piece of the cheese out and broke it in half, giving a piece to each dog, who took the offering politely from her fingers.
Joe’s designated sandwich was roast beef and Swiss on wheat with horseradish mayo. He lowered the top slice of bread after examining it. “How’d that woman at the café know what kind of sandwich I like?”
“I’m not a detective, but my guess is your sister told her.” Dani took a bite of her sandwich. “How’s that for brilliant amateur sleuthing?”
They ate their sandwiches lying prone, side by side, the strong spring sunshine warming them, watching the grizzly feed while her cubs wrestled with each other. If it weren’t for the gruesome sprawl of dead horses in the meadow below and the circling and feeding vultures above, it would have been the most scenic lunch either had ever enjoyed. It would certainly be the most memorable. By the time they’d eaten their sandwiches and drunk half the thermos of tea, the mother bear had finished her meal. She sat and let her cubs nurse while Dani took more photos. When the cubs had their fill, all three bears slowly moved toward the lower end of the meadow and the forest’s edge, and in half an hour’s time, they were gone.
As mama bear moved off with her cubs, Joe inched forward on his elbows to car
efully examine the ground just beyond them. “Someone else laid here, same as we did. Your shooter, I’m thinking,” he said over his shoulder. “You can see where his boot toes dug in, and where his weight flattened the grass, see?” He searched some more and then uttered a triumphant, “Ha!” dug in his pocket for the sandwich bag with the cigarette butt and candy wrapper and used it to pick up something, then rolled over and sat up. “He left behind some critical evidence,” he said, showing her the brass shell in the bag. “Must’ve driven it into the dirt when he stood up and couldn’t find it. Lucky for us. Because this’ll tell us a lot more than just the caliber of rifle. There could be fingerprints, and the imprint of the firing pin.”
Dani packed up her camera gear and day pack and glanced at the disturbed ground. “I wonder if Comstock noticed any of this. I’m getting worried about him.”
They both rose to their feet, but before they could move a man emerged from the woods and entered the meadow almost directly across from where they stood. He proceeded toward them without pausing by any of the horses, and they walked to meet him. Comstock was an experienced warden in his sixties who knew his way around the backcountry. He looked tough and capable, with the leathery skin of a lifelong outdoorsman, keen eyes and close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair beneath his warden service ball cap. He shook their hands when Dani introduced herself and Joe and explained why they were there, then bent to give the two dogs a friendly pat.
“I’ve been poking around here since early morning,” he said. “There were a total of nine horses in this valley,” Comstock told them. “Four are lying down there, four ran up higher into the pass when the shooting started, but one of them was wounded and ran back down the valley. I followed the blood trail over a mile before I found her. She was dead, died sometime last night. A sorrel mare, shot once in the gut. Don’t know how she made it that far, but she was one tough horse. Died hard. She wasn’t one of the mustangs. She was wearing a brand I recognized right off. One of Hershel Bonner’s quarter horses.”
“How’d she get up here?”
Comstock shook his head. “Don’t know. Hershel’s place is at least five miles from here with some rough country in between. When I was tracking that wounded mare, I came on another set of tracks. Someone was up here on horseback around the same time as the shooting. They came in from the north end on a shod horse. I couldn’t find any sign that whoever it was dismounted or came any closer than half a mile to this meadow, but the snow’s spotty and the tracking’s not that good, too many tracks overlapping. Horse, elk, mule deer, wolf, bear. Everything’s moving around right now.
“Maybe the rider heard the shooting, or maybe they were up here before it happened, looking for that mare. I don’t know, but whoever it was sat for a while in one spot, then went back the same way he came. Those tracks were no older’n a day, same as the shooter’s. Right now I’m going to head back down to my truck and call my wife, then go talk to Hershel about his horse.” He glanced up at the knoll where Dani and Joe had eaten lunch. “My guess is the shooter did his work from up there.”
“He did,” Joe said. “He shot from a prone position, and when he was done he picked up all his cartridges. But he missed one, and left some stuff behind down where he parked his truck, too.” Joe pulled the sandwich bag holding the collected evidence from his pocket and handed it to Comstock, who pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his shirt pocket.
He examined the cartridge and other pieces of evidence through the plastic before putting it in his own pocket along with his glasses. “Smoked Marlboros, snacked on Snickers and used a rifle big enough to take a .300 Winchester Magnum. That explains the kill rate and the size of the two slugs I dug out of one of the horses. Thanks. This’ll help with any forensic fingerprinting we might be able to do. I’ll drop this off at Sheriff Conroy’s office.”
“I took some photos of the tire and boot tracks at the parking area,” Joe added. “Just in case you need them.”
“If you want, Joe and I can look for where that rider might’ve come out on the lower road,” Dani offered. “I have to drive back that way to get to Bozeman. We’ll call if we find anything. Joe’s a cop from back east. He’s here on vacation, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind doing a little sleuthing.”
“That right?” Comstock cast a brief, appraising glance at Joe, then dug a business card out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Dani. “I spoke to the sheriff early this morning. He was going to ask around. The forest service staff’s been alerted, too. Will you two be in the area long?”
“I’m heading back to Helena tonight,” Dani replied. “Joe’s staying with his sister and Steven Young Bear in Bozeman.”
“That your gear down at the line camp?”
Dani nodded. “I was planning to camp there last night, until I found the horses. Those four mares that you say went up into the pass. Did you see any signs of them?”
Comstock shook his head. “I only followed them until the snow got deep. Then I turned around. I don’t think they can get through the pass yet, too much snow. They’ll have to come back down eventually. I’m surprised they already haven’t.”
“Maybe they can’t,” Dani said. “Maybe they’re bogged down up there.”
Comstock’s eyes narrowed as he looked up into the pass. “Maybe. But those wild horses are pretty tough and smart.” He glanced at her. “You did good, getting a newborn foal down that trail. Jessie told me about that. That’s not an easy hike, and the grizzly bears are out and about. How’s it doing, by the by?”
“Still alive, but only barely. Jessie found a foster mother for her at a BLM holding area. They were trucking her in this morning.”
“If anyone can save that orphan, Jessie can,” Comstock said. “I’ll do my best to find who did this, but no promises.”
“I know,” Dani said. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing. I just can’t imagine how anyone could have...” Her voice squeezed off. She shook her head, unable to finish her sentence. Comstock nodded again and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
“My Emma loves these wild horses the way you do,” he said. “If we get lucky, whoever did it will have a few too many and say something in the wrong company. The Wild Horse Foundation will probably post a reward. That might help loosen up some tongues.”
Dani nodded. She drew a shaky breath and shouldered her pack. They walked back to the line camp with Comstock, where they parted company. Comstock continued down the trail while Dani went inside the cabin to gather up her gear. She avoided looking at Joe, embarrassed that he’d seen her lose it twice. Once last night at the Bow and Arrow, and now in front of Comstock. Joe would think she was a crybaby, and she wasn’t. She was finally getting her emotions in control when he said, “I’ll do what I can to help you find who did this, Dani.”
The sympathy in his voice destroyed her. She turned, raised her eyes to his and watched his face disappear in a blur of tears. She felt his arms go around her and she sobbed against his chest while he comforted her as if she were a heartbroken child. He held her until she pulled away, wiped her face on her shirtsleeve and continued gathering her things.
Packing up didn’t take long, since the only thing she’d unpacked the day before was her sleeping bag and Primus stove. She looked around the cabin and made a promise that one day, in a happier time, she’d be back. But would she? Her reason for coming here had been destroyed. Senselessly slaughtered. When she turned away from the cabin she felt a terrible sense of loss. The wild, free spirit of the Arrow Roots had been broken and bloodied, and for her, this place would never be the same.
* * *
JOE THOUGHT THE walk back down would be a whole lot easier, but he was wrong. One misstep could prove disastrous, and the going was slippery with patches of snow, loose gravel, mud and grass. Joe paid close attention to every step, but as it turned out, it was Comstock, hiking down ahead of them, who twisted hi
s knee not a hundred yards from his Wagoneer.
“Got careless,” he said when Dani and Joe caught up with him. He was sitting on a rock, contemplating the remaining distance to his vehicle. “I promised Emma I’d be home for lunch and I was hurrying to get to my vehicle to call her. I carry a satellite phone in there. She worries,” he added.
“I can bring your phone up here,” Dani offered.
“Oh, I can make it, all right. Nothing’s broken.” To prove his point, Comstock pushed off the rock, tried to stand but sat back down immediately, both hands wrapped around the offending knee and his face tight with pain.
Joe studied the rough trail. “Bet that Jeep of yours could make it up this far.”
Comstock didn’t have to think long before digging into his pocket and handing Joe the keys. “It’s a standard,” he said.
Joe nodded. “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.” On the way down the trail Joe rolled a few of the larger rocks out of the way. The going back up was rough and there was one ten-foot-wide drift of knee-deep snow, but a Jeep was a Jeep and they were made for terrain like this. Five minutes later he cut the ignition beside the rock Comstock was sitting on. He helped the man into the vehicle. Once he was seated, the warden placed a call to his wife.
“Emma, I’m going to be a little late. I have to go talk to Hershel Bonner about a mare of his that I found up there with the wild horses...Yep, she was dead and she was wearing his brand...Don’t worry, I always am...Love you, too, Em.” He ended the call and blew out a weary breath as he packed the phone back into the waterproof case. “Best woman on the face of the planet and all I’ve ever given her for the past thirty-odd years is a phone call telling her I’m going to be late. After all these years of me standing her up and making her wait, she just tells me to be careful.”
Joe leaned on the passenger-side door frame. “I’ll drive you over to Bonner’s place. Dani can follow in her car. You can’t drive this standard with a bum left knee.”
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