He put his hands on his hips and looked off into the woods.
“Well, generally it is. We might get a lost hiker or two, but that’s about it. Oh, and the occasional bear encounter, of course.” His face darkened, and he looked at me sideways.
“Ranger Schwin told me last night they didn’t think this was a bear attack. Jackson didn’t think it was any other kind of wildlife either. So that leaves murder.” I offered that up for discussion.
Rick sighed heavily and shook his head. He looked down at the ground.
“No, I heard that, too. Nasty way to kill someone, though. Someone must have hated him. Why not just shoot him or something?”
“Cuz that’s a pleasant way to die,” I said with more sarcasm than I meant to let on.
He looked at me and bobbed his head.
“No, you’re right. Murder is murder.”
“You said someone must have hated him,” I said. “Maybe it was random. Maybe it could have happened to anyone.”
“Could be,” he said. He settled his hands on his hips and gazed into the woods. “They’ll figure that out soon enough, I guess.”
I looked around, and a shiver went down my spine as if the random killer was watching us.
“Whoever did it, the rangers haven’t found the murder weapon yet. Schwin stopped by today, told me they think it was some kind of device rigged with bear claws.”
I remembered Amanda’s comment that her uncle had a collection of bear claws in his house. I opted not to say anything though. It was just speculation on my part, and I didn’t want to insinuate that her uncle had murdered John.
I scanned the woods again. “Is it safe here?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It’s broad daylight and there are plenty of people around. But I wouldn’t recommend you walk around alone at night. They’ve stepped up patrols through the area, and one ranger will stay posted here at the campground. They’ve only got about five rangers on this side of the park, so they’re spread pretty thin.”
“Can’t the local police help?”
“Well, it’s not their jurisdiction, but I suppose they could. This is federal property.”
“Will they bring in the FBI to investigate or something?”
“No, I don’t think so. They might consult, but the park rangers seem to have it under control.”
“Under control?” I hated to sound dubious, but wasn’t a killer still out there?
He frowned. “Poor choice of words, I guess.”
I nodded.
“Did you need something?” he said with a thin-lipped smile. “You stopped by, and I just started talking.”
“Oh, no. I was just wondering if you’d heard anything about the…” I resisted using the word murder again and again.
He shook his head. “No more than the next guy. I thought they were going to close the campground at first, but they decided to leave it open. Whoever killed John Nash may still be out there, so be careful and don’t open your door at night.”
“I was going to walk down and see the lake at sunset tonight.” I checked my watch. The sun would set in half an hour. “But I guess that won’t be safe right now, will it?”
Rick chewed the corner of his lip for a moment. “I can walk down with you for a bit,” he said.
I drew in a sharp breath. I had certainly not been angling for a walking companion.
“Oh, no. That would be too much trouble for you. Really.”
“No problem. I’ve got time on my hands. Do you have a camera?”
It seemed like I was stuck with my escort. I couldn’t back out now. Ungrateful as I was.
“No, I’ll have to run back to my RV and get it.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
Rick’s steps were slower than mine. Although he was tall, he moved slowly as if his back hurt him.
“Didn’t you tell me you were from Michigan?” I asked. “Did you know that John and Amanda Nash are from Michigan? Were?”
He threw me a sideways look. “Yeah, I knew that.” He said no more, seeming disinterested in the subject.
“And I guess Amanda’s uncle is from Michigan originally, but he lives in Washington State now.”
“That’s the fellow who’s camped on the other side of you, right? Steve something or another.”
I nodded. We had reached my RV, and I stepped inside to get my camera. While he seemed like a harmless old fellow, I didn’t invite him inside. I still wasn’t quite sure what to think about his escort to the lake. I would have preferred to go alone, or rather with Ben, who was keeping silent.
Are you there? I asked silently.
Yes, dear. I did not wish to distract you from your senior gentleman escort. Is it the uniform? You did say you admired men in uniform.
Funny, Ben!
I returned my attention to the conversation as Rick and I walked toward the lake.
“Yes, her uncle parked next to me. He’s taking care of Amanda now. I wonder how much longer she’ll have to stay. I’ll bet she can’t wait to go home.”
“I’m sure she’ll stay until she can at least claim her husband’s body. I’m not sure how long that will take.”
I sighed. “Poor girl.” I remembered something I meant to ask him, and I worked my way up to it. Who had been in his truck that morning?
“I’m sorry about blocking the exit this morning,” I said. “I moved when I saw your truck. Were you out and about?”
“Yeah, just headed to the store in West Glacier.”
I’d passed a tourist/grocery/camping store which constituted much of the village of West Glacier near the entrance to the park. I hoped Rick would mention his companion, but it seemed as if I would have to ask directly.
“I noticed you had someone with you.” While that wasn’t a question, it was the best I could do at the moment. Hopefully, he wouldn’t give me just a one-word response but would elaborate.
I was in luck.
“Yeah, that was a young man who is tent camping here. My guess is he’s one of these guys who like to ride their bicycles all over the U.S., pitching their tents where they can. Something was wrong with his bike, and he needed to make a call. Doesn’t have a cell phone either, I guess.”
“Well, I hope he got to make his call.”
“Must have because he was back within an hour working on his bike. He was supposed to leave today, but I guess he’s decided to stay awhile. Kind of an odd guy. A loner.”
“Oh?” It seemed as if Rick had more to say, and I wanted to help him tell me.
“You know the type—doesn’t look people in the eyes, keeps to himself, doesn’t talk much. From the smell of him, I’m not sure he takes baths very often either. He had kind of a nasty smell to him. Reminded me of iron or some kind of metal. His clothes were pretty dirty, stained.”
“Gracious!” I said. I looked up from the path to see the lake.
“Oh, look!” The water, though less placid than the day before, still mirrored the mountains surrounding it. The golden sun slipped slowly behind the mountains, streaking the clouds in the darkening lavender sky in shades of peach, yellow and orange. It was truly beautiful.
“Yup, sunset on Lake McDonald,” Rick said with a rueful smile. “Can’t say I’ve come down here to watch the sunset much since I’ve been here.”
I glanced at him quickly.
“Oh, really? Such a shame,” I murmured. I pulled out my camera and took as many shots as I could in the short time that the sky carried the brilliant colors of sunset.
I appreciate his escort, Ben, but I would have loved to be alone with you to share this, I said silently and with shame at my ingratitude of Rick’s kind offer.
I am still here with you, Minerva, Ben said. We are together…always.
My knees weakened at Ben’s tender tone. Would we be together always? Could I spend the rest of my life talking to a ghost? Never touching him? Never seeing him?
A warm sensation brushed across my cheek. I swallowed hard.
Was tha
t you? I asked silently.
Yes, Ben said softly. Do you remember that I touched your cheek once before and you felt it?
I covered my cheek with my hand and breathed deeply.
I remember, I said with a sigh.
I do not wish you to burden you with my presence, Minerva. If someday you fall in love, I will leave…if I can.
No! Don’t go! I almost cried the words aloud. Don’t leave me.
I panicked at Ben’s words. Who knew what would happen in the future? I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Ben.
Do not fret, dearest. I am here. I will remain as long as you need me.
I relaxed and looked out over the lake. The sun had vanished, and twilight descended over the landscape. The mountains stood black against the pale peach that remained of the sunset. The water reflected the pastel colors of the sky.
“You’ve been quiet,” Rick said.
I jumped. I’d almost forgotten he stood near me.
“Oh! I’m sorry. I’ve just been enjoying the view.”
“It is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It’s so serene here.”
“That’s a good word for it, I guess.”
“Well, the lake is serene anyway. Not so much the campground.”
Too late, I realized how rude that might sound to a campground host.
“Not that it’s your fault or anything,” I said hastily.
“My fault. Why would it be my fault?” He directed a narrow-eyed stare in my direction.
“No, it isn’t. The murder, I mean. I just thought I’d offended you when I said the campground wasn’t serene.”
“Well, that’s hardly my fault now, is it?”
“No, I know. That’s what I said.”
Somehow, this conversation had gone terribly wrong. I’d had a conversation with a boyfriend or two in my day that had gone just this poorly.
“I’m doing the best I can here to fill in since my sister had to leave. I swore after my last campground hosting job that I wouldn’t go back to it!”
I bit my tongue, wishing myself anywhere but standing at the edge of a lake with this suddenly angry man in the growing darkness.
“What happened to make you say you wouldn’t go back to it?” I turned as if heading back to the campground, and he fell into step beside me.
“My wife was killed…by a bear.”
Chapter Five
I stopped short and stared at the older man as best I could in the dusky light.
“Your wife? A bear?” I asked.
“Yes, a grizzly,” he said. He rubbed his forehead. “Happened two years ago. At another park. I swore I’d never go back to work for the National Park System again. But here I am. And it’s happened again!”
What are the odds of that, Ben?
In my day, bear attacks were not an unusual occurrence, Minerva, not in the wilderness.
“I am so sorry, Rick. I can’t imagine how devastating that must have been.”
“Yeah, thanks. She was hiking alone and she must have scared him.” He took a deep breath. “Rangers knew there was a grizzly in the area, but they didn’t post anything. They didn’t close the trail in time. I blame them.”
I hesitated to ask further, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t exactly lack a sensitivity button. I was just too curious.
“What park was that?” I asked.
“Yellowstone National Park. They shot the bear, but that didn’t save my wife’s life. Jackson shot it actually.”
“Jackson?” I echoed.
“Yeah, he was assigned to Yellowstone at the time. I was surprised to find him here at Glacier, but that’s how the park system works. You can move around between parks if there is an opening.” He paused. “I just can’t believe that I’m taking care of a campground, and it’s happened again.”
“But it didn’t really happen again, did it?” I said carefully. “This was apparently a murder, wasn’t it?”
He looked down at me. “Yeah! That’s right. This time it’s murder. Frankly, I called it murder last time. By a lazy ranger who couldn’t close the trail in time. Believe me. I didn’t blame the bear.”
His anger amplified and he lengthened his stride. I hurried to catch up to him. I wanted to know more.
“Was it Jackson who failed to close the trail?”
“No, not Jackson,” he threw over his shoulder. “Not Jackson.”
“Oh, I just thought because you mentioned that he shot the bear.” My words seemed to fall on deaf ears.
We reached my RV, and Rick said a terse good night before leaving.
Given that a killer might still be lurking in the woods, I hopped into my RV quickly and locked the door.
“Well, what do you think about that, Ben?” I dropped onto the sofa.
I am at a loss. The man grieves. This murder, albeit by a human, this time posing as a bear, must have reopened his wounds.
“I’ll say. I’m surprised that Jackson was there, but then I guess the National Park system is a small world—employee wise, that is.”
If I follow your meaning, you are saying that there is a higher likelihood that many park employees will have worked together previously in different locations.”
“Better said than I, Ben, as usual.”
Mr. Cannon does harbor some ill will toward the rangers.
“He does, doesn’t he? I doubt it’s really their fault that his wife was attacked, but he seems to blame them anyway.”
Yes.
A knock on the door startled me.
“Who is it, Ben?” I whispered.
It is the widow, Amanda.
I ran to the door and opened it.
Amanda, her nose red and eyes bloodshot, spoke.
“Can I come in? I need to talk to someone.”
I wondered where her uncle was, but stood back.
“Of course,” I said.
She entered and looked around briefly.
“Please sit down,” I said indicating the couch. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Juice?”
“No thanks. My uncle is still making pots of coffee for me.”
I sat down on the couch next to her.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
She shook her head and stared at the fingers she laced and unlaced them.
“Not good,” she said. “I can’t really talk to my uncle about this. He never liked John anyway.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. I hoped she would say more, but I hated to probe given her grief.
“Did you know the rangers say John was murdered, that it wasn’t a bear attack?”
Tears poured down her face, and she began to sob. I took her in my arms and held her until the sobs subsided.
“I heard,” I said when she had calmed. I released her. “But I can’t imagine someone doing such a thing.”
“I can’t either. And to try to fake a bear attack! It had to be someone who knows a lot about bears or how bears attack.”
I privately agreed but said nothing.
“I don’t know why someone would kill John. Why?” she said as she began to sob anew, and I held her. The poor thing. Nothing could make the pain pass. She just had to survive it.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I murmured over her head. She calmed again eventually and asked for a glass of water. I rose and poured a glass for her.
“Do you think it was random?” I asked. “Who here would have a grudge against John?”
“I can think of one,” she said on a hiccup.
“Really? Who? Your uncle?”
She shook her head quickly. “No, not my uncle. Well, Uncle Steve hated John actually, but no, I was talking about the campground host, Rick Cannon.”
“Rick?” I repeated incredulously. “Why would he have a grudge against John?”
“Oh, it was something that happened at Yellowstone. I really don’t want to talk about it. I didn’t even realize he was the host here until we saw him last night.”
“Yellowstone
? You mean his wife’s death?”
Amanda snapped her head around to look at me. “What do you know about that?”
“Well, he told me about it tonight. But what could John have possibly had to do with that?”
Tears slipped down her face.
“John and I were park rangers there. John forgot to post a sign that a trail was closed due to bear activity, and Rick’s wife hiked up there. She must have walked right into the bear, scared him, and he attacked.”
I sat back on the couch and stared at her.
Ben! Are you there?
I am here, Minerva. Is there any person in this park who was not employed at the Yellowstone wilderness area?
That’s what I was wondering, I said.
“Believe me, when I saw Rick Cannon here, I couldn’t believe it!” Amanda said with a grimace. “What are the odds?”
Indeed, Ben said.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I said. “Probably not as high as one would think given that National Park employees can transfer from one park to another, right?”
She nodded.
“Did you know Jackson too?”
She stiffened and nodded again, before looking down at her clasped hands.
“Yeah. He shot the grizzly that killed Marsha Cannon.”
“Small world,” I murmured.
“It is. We quit after that. Well John was let go, and I quit. We went home to Michigan, but John wanted to see if he could find a new job in the park system, maybe in another park. He was waiting to hear back on an appeal of his dismissal. We were looking here at Glacier for an opening.”
“John changed after Yellowstone,” she continued. “I don’t know if it was guilt about Marsha’s death or anger at Jackson and Yellowstone for letting him go, but he changed. He became quiet, moody, lashed out at me, stopped talking to people. That’s why my uncle didn’t like him. The lashing out.”
“Do you mean he hit you?”
She swallowed hard before she nodded. A single tear ran down her cheek.
“I’m so sorry, Amanda.” I knew I’d said it more than once, but I seemed to have no other soothing words in my vocabulary.
“Thanks, but I’m pretty tough even though I don’t look it. John wasn’t going to get away with it much longer, I’ll tell you that.”
Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 03 - Trouble at Glacier Page 5
