“We should head over Going-to-the-Sun road this morning since I’m up so early. I still have to unhitch the car.”
Yes, a splendid idea! Ben said. Let us leave this misfortune behind.
“I will,” I stated firmly. “I can’t get dragged into another possible murder. I won’t!”
Excellent! I am pleased to hear you say that, Minerva.
“Well, not ‘dragged,’” I said. “I know I rushed headlong into the last two, asking questions where I shouldn’t, being a busybody.”
I did not wish to say that.
I smiled at the polite tone in Ben’s voice. Of course, he wanted to say that, but he was far too well mannered to call me a busybody.
A flash of red color to my left caught my attention. Amanda!
I set my coffee cup down on the picnic table as Amanda approached. I couldn’t tell if she needed a hug or just someone to talk to. I was up for both.
No, you are not normally ‘dragged’ into these situations, are you? Ben said in an ironic tone.
Hush! I said silently.
Chapter Three
Tears streamed down Amanda’s face, and she rushed into my arms. A hug it would be then. She sobbed against my shoulder for some moments, mumbling words I didn’t understand. I patted her back and held her, murmuring gentle words of sympathy until she eventually calmed and pulled away. She produced a tissue and blew her nose.
“I’m so sorry, Amanda. I’m so, so sorry.” I was near to tears myself but managed to hold them back.
She sank down on the picnic table bench, and I joined her.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Amanda shook her head.
“He should have known better than to startle a bear into attacking,” she said in a watery voice. “We both worked for the Park Service. We’ve had plenty of experience with bears. We both know better.”
I bit my lower lip. So, she didn’t know that the police suspected it wasn’t a bear attack. I was surprised to hear she had worked for the Park Service as well. She hadn’t mentioned it yesterday when John spoke of his own history.
“Is that what happened?” I asked. Maybe she knew something I didn’t. Maybe something had changed in the night, and the rangers had revised their opinions.
“Well, of course, it was a bear attack. I heard you were the one who found him. Did you see the marks on John’s neck? Claw marks!”
I hadn’t realized she’d seen the body either. Poor girl! She looked wan and pale.
“You saw him then?” I asked gently.
She nodded. “Yes, before they took his b-body away.” She caught her breath. “I was in the shower house when it happened. If only I’d been with him… I think he might have been heading to the bathroom himself when he was attacked.”
Though most RVs had toilet and shower facilities, many campers were reluctant to use them and continued to use campground facilities. Clearly, Amanda and John were among those who did. Or John had.
I shook my head in sympathy.
“Did they find the bear yet? Did you hear?”
She shook her head and looked toward the woods at nothing in particular.
“No, not yet. They say he’s a regular and has never caused any problems, but a bear is a bear. Wild animals, you know? They’re unpredictable.”
I reached for her hand and squeezed it. The skin was cold.
“Would you like some coffee?”
She shook her head. “No.” She returned her gaze to my face. “My uncle is here. He made a pot last night. I’m pretty full up on coffee. I didn’t sleep at all.”
“Is that your uncle there?” I nodded in the direction of the RV barely visible through the trees to my right.
“Yes, that’s him. He got here yesterday afternoon.”
“I met him,” I said.
She stilled, pulled her hand from mine and looked up at me out of the corner of her eye.
“How?”
“Oh, he was in the woods across the road. Said he was looking for the bear. I was walking by and saw him when he came out of the woods.”
“Looking for the bear?” She gave me an incredulous look. “I doubt that. He’s seen plenty of bears in his time. There are lots of bears in Michigan. He’s got a huge collection of bear claws and stuff hanging in his house.”
“Oh, I thought you said he was from Washington,” I said, instantly regretting the words. She obviously had a lot on her mind. It hardly mattered where he was from.
“Did I?” she asked in a bemused tone. “I don’t remember saying that. He grew up in Michigan but he lives in Washington State now.”
I nodded. Of course. Made sense. Hardly important.
“It’s lucky that he is here right now for you.”
She stiffened and turned to me with reddened eyes.
“Yes, it is.”
Had I said something wrong? I didn’t know. Maybe ‘lucky’ hadn’t been the right word to use.
“I wish I could offer you some real words of comfort, Amanda, but I can only sympathize. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but there’s nothing anyone can do. Nothing.”
Poor sad young woman, Ben said. My heart aches for her.
Mine too, I said.
Amanda rose.
“Well, I’d better get over to my uncle’s RV. He’s making some breakfast. I can’t eat a thing, but…” She almost toppled over as she stood, and I jumped up to catch her. As I did so, I noticed bruises on the knuckles of her right hand.
“Sorry! I’m just so tired,” she said. Tears slipped down her face. Not that they’d ever really stopped.
I put an arm around her waist.
“Here, let me help you. You look exhausted.”
“Oh, you don’t need to,” Amanda said. “It’s not far.”
“I do need to. I can’t turn my back on you and let you teeter totter off into the woods.”
Amanda gave me a small smile and allowed me to walk her toward her uncle’s RV. I tapped on the door, and it swung open in response.
To say that her uncle was surprised to see me toting his niece was an understatement. His eyes rounded, and he hurried down the steps.
“What’s going on?” he said harshly.
At my gasp, he changed his tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bark. What’s going on?” he said on a milder note.
I understood that everyone was grieving and under a great deal of stress, and I forgave him instantly.
“Amanda stopped by my RV for a few minutes, but she looked so unsteady on her feet that I thought I’d help her walk over here.”
Amanda looked toward her uncle with an expression I couldn’t decipher. Was it fear? Anger? Dismay? I shook my head. No, I was imagining things, thanks to the events of the past few months. Amanda just looked terribly sad.
“I think two of the park rangers came to see you last night,” I said to her uncle without thinking.
He blinked again and took Amanda from me, rather harshly in my opinion. I hoped he wasn’t an abusive relative. She seemed delicate.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, they came to see me because I found the bo—” I bit my tongue. “I found John, and when they couldn’t find Amanda, I suggested she might be with you. I thought you might be the uncle she mentioned.”
“Oh, you told someone I was coming?” he looked down at Amanda with narrowed eyes.
“John…” Amanda fought tears. “John and I were looking for you, and since her RV looks like yours, we thought it was you.”
He nodded.
What was his deal, I wondered?
His expression eased, and he nodded again.
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I noticed your RV was the same brand as mine. Well, look, I’d better get Amanda inside. She’s about ready to collapse. She didn’t get any sleep last night.”
I nodded, not quite certain how I felt about ole Uncle Steve. He seemed to be an intense sort of guy, s
hort tempered.
“Take care of her,” I said with hope and a warning. I was going to be keeping my eye on Uncle Steve while they were here.
I returned to my RV and unhooked my car.
“Any thoughts, Ben?”
Perhaps you should tell me your thoughts first, Minerva. I do not wish to influence you with my musings.
“Well, I think there’s something not quite right with Uncle Steve. I didn’t like the way he sort of grabbed Amanda from me.”
I noted his roughness as well. However, he seemed quite unobjectionable in our brief encounter yesterday. I sense he cares for his niece. I cannot make excuses for him though.
“I thought she looked at him with fear for a moment, but I could have been mistaken. Maybe I’m making too much of this. Ya know, Happy Trails. Sunny Lake. Too many murders. Everyone is a suspect.”
Perhaps, Ben said.
I stepped inside the RV and grabbed my purse, sunglasses and some water.
“Are you ready to hit the road?” I asked as I locked the door and headed for my car. “It feels weird just driving away from all of this and not knowing what’s happening. But I can’t sit around all day either, hoping some kind law enforcement sort will drop some info my way.”
I had to admit that I hoped Rangers Jackson or Schwin might pop back into my site to ask me further questions, at which time I could ask them a few nonchalant questions about what happened to John, such as was he murdered and who did it.
I am ready, Minerva. It will be good for you to enjoy a small reprieve from this tragedy. It is my dearest wish that your visit to this magnificent place hold delightful memories in the future, not the tainted images that you must now surely recall.
“Thanks, Ben,” I said, touched at his words. “Let’s go make those memories.”
I climbed in the car and pulled out of my spot. As I neared the entrance of the campground, I saw a white park ranger truck on the main road, and my pulse started jumping. Was it Jackson? Would he turn into the campground? If so, would he stop to say hello? Would he answer my questions?
It was Jackson, and he did pause at the entrance to the campground.
“Are you off to see the park?” he asked with a return of his charming smile.
I grinned, poor John almost forgotten. Jackson’s white-toothed smile was hard to resist.
“Yes, I’m going to drive over Going-to-the-Sun Road. See the sights.”
“You’ll love it. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
“I am,” I said, scrunching my nose. “I’ve read the road is pretty high, but I’m sure tons of people drive over it every year and don’t go over the edge, right?”
He grinned even wider. How could he be so pleasant after such a horrific evening?
“Tons!” he agreed. “There are stone walls along the road in spots where a rubber-necking driver might miss the curve. You’ll be fine.”
I was reassured. Now, how to ask the other questions that were uppermost in my mind.
“Are you here because of…?” Way to lead!
His smile vanished, and his tanned face took on the grim look I’d seen last night.
He nodded.
“Yup. They found the bear early this morning, tranquilized it and took a look at it. No evidence that fellow had been clawing at anything other than huckleberry bushes. They relocated him to another part of the park though.”
I was grateful to hear they hadn’t killed the bear first and checked later.
“Oh!” I said, more for an acknowledgement of his words.
“What about a bird of prey?” I asked.
Jackson shook his head. “No. The claw marks weren’t right. It looks like John Nash was murdered. We think someone was trying to make it look like he was killed by a bear.”
Jackson was giving me so much more information than I had hoped for.
I opened my mouth to ask further questions, but a glance in my rearview mirror showed a truck approaching behind me. Our vehicles blocked the entrance and exit to the campground.
“Well, I’d better get out of the way,” I said with regret. Another glance in my rearview mirror showed the driver of the truck was the host, Rick Cannon. Someone else was in the truck with him, but all I could make out was scruffy hair and a beard.
“There’s Rick. Just the man I need to see,” Jackson said. “I’ll see you later. Enjoy your day.”
I let my car roll and looked in my rearview mirror as Rick and Jackson pulled up next to each other. Jackson got out of his vehicle to speak to Rick.
I pulled out of the campground and turned right to find this so-called Going-to-the-Sun Road.
“I wish I could have asked Jackson questions while he was so talkative, Ben. Clearly, John couldn’t have been killed randomly. My guess is that he was killed by someone who knows a thing or two about bears.”
Yes, Ben agreed.
“Which is just about everybody in this park, except me.”
It would take a person with some knowledge of bear behavior to devise a weapon that could imitate the claw marks of a bear. However, the murderer did not appear to have the strength to convincingly simulate a bear attack.
“No, I guess not. I’ve probably seen bear claws at some point or another in my life, but I can’t really picture them at the moment. Are they super sharp?”
Yes, very sharp, and long.
I shivered and turned my attention to the vista. The road wound its way along the long expanse of Lake McDonald before climbing up the sides of the mountains. The vistas were spectacular. Snow-capped peaks dropped down to white waterfalls that cascaded over rocky cliffs beneath emerald green foliage. The road narrowed as it hugged the mountainsides, but as Jackson had said, rock walls kept sightseeing tourists on the road. I had to admit to a few tense moments, but I white-knuckled the drive and kept my eyes on the road. Thankfully, there were pullouts along the way where I could stop to take pictures.
Words fail me, Ben said as we gazed out over the wide expanse of lush green canyons formed between the purple-blue mountains.
That would be a first, I said silently with affection. Other tourists stood nearby, so I opted not to speak aloud.
I have my moments, Ben said. You will note that I made no comments today regarding the handsome and dashing Ranger Jackson. Does the man have a given name or shall we always refer to him as ‘Jackson?’”
I smiled. I should have expected as much. Ben had once told me he could hear my heart beat, so I knew I couldn’t hide a racing pulse from him.
It suits him, don’t you think? I asked.
Ben snorted. Look there, on those rocks above us, he said. Do you see?
Cupping my eyes against the noon sun, I followed his direction. Three white spots moved along the sheer face of a rocky cliff. Mountain goats! They didn’t cling to the rocks so much as hop over them lithely.
Ben! Mountain goats! How do they do that? Don’t they ever fall?
I do not know, Ben said. I imagine they must on occasion, but let us hope that today is not one of those occasions.
The tourists standing nearby returned to their cars.
“I hope not!” I said aloud. “We’ve had enough death for one day.”
Steer your thoughts in another direction, Minerva. See there? That waterfall? Admire the height from which it falls. Or the mass of white bulbous flowers just there. Fodder for wildlife. Captain Clark was most excited to discover this species.
I smiled and did as Ben suggested. The plant, consisting of white flowered bulbs atop thick stalks, sprung up happily throughout the nearby grassy slope.
“What’s it called?”
Ben didn’t respond, and I looked around. I couldn’t see him, but that didn’t stop me from trying.
“Ben?”
He sighed heavily. “It is called bear grass.
Chapter Four
I could have laughed if the name ‘bear grass’ hadn’t been so ironic.
“Oh, nice going, Ben!” I said. I smiled to t
ake the sting out of my words.
Forgive me. I did not think before I spoke, he said shortly. And here was I, trying to brighten your spirits.
“You always do, Ben,” I said. “Come on. Let’s keep going.” I climbed back into the car and chugged my way through the mountains.
On our return to the west side of the park after a fabulous but tiring day of sightseeing, I was happy to see the entrance to the campground. However, questions about the murder, never far from my mind, returned in full force. I stifled a yawn, the remnants of a sleepless night, and spoke.
“Ben, what if John’s murder wasn’t planned? I mean, what if John wasn’t really the target? What if the killer just wanted to kill anyone? I wonder if they caught the guy today. I wonder what’s been going on since we’ve been gone.”
So many questions, Ben chuckled. Where are the good Rangers Jackson and Schwin when we need them?
“Hey, I’m just going to park the car and mosey over to Rick Cannon’s RV to see if there’s any news,” I said. “The worst he can do is tell me that it’s none of my business.”
I pulled into my space and hopped out of my car. After dropping my purse off inside the RV, I returned to the road on foot to follow the loop around to the campground host’s RV. I had no intention of cutting through the woods as I would have had to cross the spot where I found John’s body.
I found Rick’s RV, a smaller white travel trailer, by a sign posted near the road which marked him as the campground host. His truck was there, and I knocked on the door.
Rick opened the door promptly and descended the steps to stand beside me.
“How are you doing today, Minnie?” he asked.
I wasn’t sure whether that his way of making a normal inquiry or whether he was specifically asking how I managed after the events of the previous night.
“Jackson said you were planning on doing some driving around today,” he continued. “I’m glad to hear it. After last night, I wasn’t sure you weren’t going to fire up your rig and head on down the road.”
I nodded with a grimace. “The thought crossed my mind, that’s for sure. Somehow, I imagined the park would be a safe, peaceful place.”
Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 03 - Trouble at Glacier Page 4
