by Julie Weston
“Is this safe?” Her landlady had taken to acting like Nellie’s mother.
“Oh, I’m sure it is. I’ll be with the sheriff.”
Mrs. Bock sniffed. “I’ll pack a couple of ham sandwiches and cookies and potato salad. I had planned ham and salad for dinner. You may as well take some. Where you gonna stay?”
Nellie shrugged. “I think we’ll be camping out.”
Mrs. Bock struggled with a smile that turned into a grin. “Not sure that’s safe.”
“I think it will be.” Nellie tried not to show her disappointment. The sheriff had been all business, as usual.
Back in the studio, she wavered about flash materials. They were bulky and hard to use. Better take enough for three or four photos in caves.
The sheriff’s automobile was cozy and comfortable. After an argument, the sheriff agreed Moonshine could accompany them, as long as he was on a leash or stayed in the auto. The drive to the lava fields didn’t take long—about two hours. Along the way, the landscape changed from sagebrush and rabbit-brush, some of which was still in yellow bloom, to harvested fields with golden stubble and a few farm buildings. They left the mountains around Hailey behind them and motored along flatter and flatter country. The white rock Lost River Range towered over a valley to the north, but lower mountains bare of trees and wrinkled like army blankets served as a backdrop to the sage. Buttes dotted the landscape as they neared the lava, which indeed was black rock that lay twisted and humped like an imagined moonscape. Black stacks stood out like chimneys from an underground world. Nellie looked forward to taking photos of the rocks, if nothing else. Unfortunately, foot travel looked to be strenuous and time-consuming, but, worse, painful. Bringing her dog was not a good idea.
Just as the sheriff said, a man in an auto waited. There were no horses.
“Two women and a man left Arco, saying they’d be back in two days,” the man told them as he stepped out. “That was five days ago. We don’t know if they went away in another direction, but I thought I should report them gone to the marshal. This area is about to become a national monument, so I figgered that was the right place to call. ’Course, there’s a big fight about it becoming a monument.”
“Why so?” the sheriff asked.
“No more grazing.” The man swept his arm in a wide arc. “Cattlemen are up in arms. So is Arco.”
“And who are you?” Nellie asked, since the sheriff didn’t seem like he would.
“I’m the mayor, I guess you’d say. Mayor Tom. Someone had to take the job. Soon as I find another fool, I’ll quit.”
“What are we here to see?” The sheriff gestured toward the inky landscape.
“First off, you should see their auto. It’s down the wagon trail a ways. Then, thought I’d show you some caves. That’s what the folks said they wanted to see. I showed ’em a map. It’s a bit of a walk and darned easy to get lost.” He scratched his head full of ginger hair, grabbed a hat, and closed the auto door. He eyed the dog. “On an expedition through here a couple years ago, the dog we took hurt its feet real bad.”
Nellie looked at Moonie, glanced at the sheriff and back at the dog, who sat waiting on the ground. Wrong decision. “How long will we be?”
“I’d guess an hour or two to get there and same to get back.”
“Bring him. If his paws get scraped, I will carry him. Or make coverings from my handkerchief.” The sheriff opened the boot.
Nellie pulled out her pack and donned the straps so the pack was carried on her back. The sheriff went to take it, but she shook her head. Her camera, her pack. “Ready.”
They walked first along a rough wagon road where the parties’ auto sat tilted in a rut. The men looked it over, and then the three of them and Moonshine trudged up and down lava flows, picking their way. It was like walking over broken dishware half the time, slipping and sliding on rock or cinders, as if they were hiking along a coal bin, and the other half on an easier surface, but one with hills and slopes and treacherous footing. The sheriff and Mayor Tom conversed as the sheriff asked questions about the missing trio. The mayor didn’t know much, only that one woman’s name was Effie and they were religious, but he didn’t know what religion. “Could be a regular one or an irregular one,” he said. “We got lots of both around.”
Nellie would have liked to stop and take photographs but knew that would have to wait. She spent most of her time being careful where she placed her boots. She regretted not permitting the sheriff to take her pack and regretted bringing Moonshine. So far, though, he seemed to move across the lava better than the three humans. When they approached an area with many trees, “limber pines” Mayor Tom called them, she wanted to stop and rest, but the men kept walking.
After almost two hours from where they left the autos, the mayor—who was more agile than Nellie would have supposed, as he was wide but compact with thin legs and arms—stopped. He stepped off the narrow trail they had been following and led them to what appeared to be a cave entrance in the lava. A rock fall led to the opening and climbing down across the chunks looked difficult but not impossible. Moonshine circled the opening and tentatively stepped down a few of the rocks. He sniffed and then barked.
“That’s it?” she asked. “That’s a cave?”
“Don’t look like much, do it? Still, once you get in there, it opens up.” Mayor Tom stepped carefully around rocks and brush. “There’s more. They might’ve gone to another one up the way but could’ve stopped here. I marked several on the diagram they drew from my map.” He ducked to go in but turned his head back. “Kinda smelly down here.”
“Tie Moonshine to the boulder over there,” the sheriff said. “We do not know what we will find here.”
Nellie did as instructed. The sheriff followed the mayor readily, but Nellie wasn’t so sure. Dark, tight spaces had no appeal to her, reminding her of the horror house at a carnival. Once she had been stuck in a darkened room with floors that angled every which way, unable to find the path out. She called and screamed, and, eventually, someone came to get her. Embarrassed and frightened, she left the carnie and never returned. The rocks leading to the dark hole suggested heavy going to her, even with boots on.
“Wait for me,” she called to the sheriff. When she had clambered down, she grabbed his arm. “I’ll just keep hold,” she said. He didn’t shake her off, and she vowed to herself not to scream.
The air was dry, and a moldy, dank basement smell hung around the entrance. Mayor Tom had a flashlight, as did the sheriff. Their lights helped to dispel Nellie’s nervousness. The mayor crouched low under a rocky overhang and waddled forward and then disappeared. Sheriff Azgo took Nellie’s hand and said, “Hang on to my belt.” He crouched, as did Nellie, and both squat-walked past the overhang. Around a sharp corner, they stepped into a large space lit close around them by Mayor Tom’s flashlight, but midnight dark around the edges. They cast huge shadows. As near as Nellie could tell, the space was half the size of her studio in Mrs. Bock’s house. They could stand upright. The smell worsened and hung like fog in the cave. The floor was the smoother kind of lava they had just covered, but with piles of rocks here and there.
It was then Nellie saw a bundle of clothes at the rocky, dark edge. It moved as she watched. She screamed—not loud and long, but still a scream. The sheriff looked to where she pointed. He and Mayor Tom strode to the bundle. The sheriff turned it over, and a small creature dashed away. There lay a body, its shadowed face eaten half away, and dried, black blood clamping its neck.
CHAPTER 2
Sheriff Azgo and Mayor Tom dragged the body outside, because, even with the flashlights, it was too dark in the cave to inspect it and take photos. Nellie preceded them, pulling herself up the rocky entrance and then setting up her camera after she made certain Moonshine was secure. She had seen a number of dead people, but none as mauled as this one was. She wasn’t even sure if it was a man or a woman at first, but, outside, she could see pant legs under the coat and men’s shoes, and shoes t
hey were, damaged with the soles bent and scratched and the leather torn. The clothes were ripped and pulled, but the animal had not succeeded in getting to the flesh, except around the face and head. The eyes were gone, as was the nose and most of both cheeks. One ear dangled. The hair was so matted with dried blood, she couldn’t tell what color it was.
The sheriff was matter of fact as he examined the body. Nellie tried to act the same way, but she struggled to keep herself steady as she focused, inserted the film holder into the camera, pulled out the black slide, and released the shutter to expose the film. Judging by the pale color of Mayor Tom’s otherwise ruddy face, she suspected he was struggling, too. The rotting odor was not as strong as in the cave, but, still, she fought not to gag.
“I need you to get as close as possible, Miss Burns. Can you do that?” The sheriff had placed the body face up and lifted the head a little to situate it on a stone. “He appears to have been hit with a heavy instrument, but sometimes we see something more in your photos that we miss with our eyes.” He paused while Nell took the photo. “Good. Now come around to the top side, and then we will try the back.”
As Nellie followed his instructions, she calmed down. This was police work. What did she expect? The surface upon which she set her tripod caused some difficulty. She spent time steadying it before she could take a photo. After the head, she photographed the clothed body front and back and then the shoes. She winced as the sheriff probed the man’s face and head. She turned away, stopping to rub Moonie’s head. He didn’t seem bothered at all, although he sniffed the air several times. Mayor Tom sat on a boulder with his face turned toward the lumpy expanse of lava. An afternoon breeze rustled the sparse amber grasses, and small black pebbles skittered past. A chipmunk peeked out from behind a piece of lava and then dropped out of sight. Moonie saw it and strained at his leash.
“All right, Mayor Tom. We need to take this body to Hailey. There is a morgue, of sorts. Any ideas how we do that?” The sheriff walked to where Tom sat.
“That’s the man who came into my station, Sheriff. I recognize his clothes. I can round up a stretcher in Arco or Carey and perhaps a crew of men. All we’d have is a truck bed. Maybe someone in Hailey can figure out that part.” Tom stood, while Nellie slid her tripod closed. “At the same time, mebbe I can get their auto moved back to my station in Arco.”
“What about the two women? Do you suppose they’re still around and in the same shape?” she asked.
“It is too late to search more today,” the sheriff said, “and get this body to town.” Tom nodded his head. “Maybe the best bet is to move the body back to that area with pines that we passed. Think we can do that, Tom?”
Tom scratched his head and sighed. “Guess we could. Sure would make it easier for whoever comes with a stretcher, not to have to climb over all this lava here.” He leaned over the body. “The man’s coat looks big enough to carry him that far.”
Nellie stayed to one side while the sheriff covered the man’s head and rearranged the coat. He and Tom managed to lift the body using the coat as a hammock and began the task of transporting him. She had no intention of offering to help. She released Moonshine and followed, barely able to keep her own balance. Watching her feet helped her lose the images of the man’s face. The lava was a myriad of colors, not just black: burnt red, pale gray, sometimes green or yellow with lichen. Before long, they were back among the limber pine. Both men sweated profusely. “Stuck pigs” was Nellie’s thought, echoing Rosy’s one-time description.
“Let us head back to the road,” the sheriff said. He swabbed his face and neck with a red handkerchief. “Nellie, would you wait and see that the body is not disturbed again? I am glad now that we have your dog. I will get back as soon as possible with our camping gear,” the sheriff said and looked at Tom, “along with water and food. We can search tomorrow, if, Mayor Tom, you will give us more directions for where else we might look. Or come and join us.”
Stay alone? With that body? Nellie shuddered. This was much worse than staying with a dead man in an abandoned cabin in the night—one she thought then had frozen to death. Even with Moonshine, she did not like the prospect. “Couldn’t we put rocks around it or something so no animal can get to it again? I think I’d rather come with . . . with you.” It wasn’t only the maimed body that bothered her. “What about bears or mountain lions?” She looked at Mayor Tom. “Would they attack me?”
“Normally, I’d say not, but with this body here . . . It ain’t exactly . . . fresh.”
“If the dog is with you, I doubt you will be bothered. I can leave my gun. I think you know how to use one, as I remember.” The sheriff’s face relaxed from its stern visage. “At least enough to scare anything off. I and a crew should be back before it gets dark.” He turned as if there were no question she would stay. “And you can take photographs of the scenery.” The sheriff fiddled with the man’s coat again, so that the gnawed face was fully covered, and then handed his revolver to her. She stuck it in her jacket pocket. “See you in a while.” He and the mayor headed back the way they had come.
Nellie waved. She set up her tripod again and placed the camera on top. Moonshine lay in the shade of a pine. She might as well see what kind of photos she could take. The sun was still high, and her surroundings were mostly dark, although the limber pine lightened the background and danced whenever the wind blew. “Let’s scout around, Moonie. As long as we don’t go too far, the . . . the body should be all right, for now.”
They traveled a hundred yards east, along ground that was crumbled lava and flat, rather than the waves of lava farther out. Then Nellie spied a long stretch of smooth lava and climbed onto it. A deep crack cut the surface, each side with a raggedy edge matching the opposite. Inside the crack, the darkness was complete. In the distance she saw where the ground rose to a large cone, covered with dried brush and bright red hanging leaves, ready to drop with the slightest push. Along the ground extended a series of small, purple flowers, low and out of the wind. Bunchgrass turned gold grew near the pines, so Nellie sat down with her legs stretched out in front of her. She studied the whole area from her resting place, trying to visualize photographs. Maybe later in the afternoon, there would be shadows to make the vistas more interesting. Right now, the cone and a faraway butte and surrounding rocks would not have much definition on her film. She decided to stay nearer the body, but not too close. She moved and found a rock out-cropping to lean against.
The afternoon sun and the quiet surroundings lulled Nellie to a doze, even sitting up. She was startled awake by Moonie’s deep-throated growl. “What is it?” Nell scrambled up. She pulled the sheriff’s gun from her jacket and called Moonshine. She was still a ways from the dead man, so she hurried closer to it. Still, nothing. Moonshine’s growl grew deeper, and then he began to bark.
A horse and man appeared from the east, walking from around a series of boulders. The man wore a Stetson, a red flannel shirt, and chaps. He led the horse closer to Nell.
“Howdy, Miss. I thought I saw several people up yonder so trotted over to see what was going on.” He leaned forward in a friendly way. “Is your pooch gonna attack?”
“No, my dog won’t attack unless you come after me.”
“Better watch my step, then.” The man winked at her. “I’m Ben O’Donnell. I’m with a herd of cattle back beyond the lava fields.”
Nell glanced past him but could see only the black rock she was getting too familiar with. Some distance away, another rider waited, it appeared. Too far away to identify, she thought there was something familiar about the way the person sat the horse.
“What are you doing out here? You look like you’re all by yourself—except for that dog there.”
“I’m Nell Burns.” She glanced over at the body, looking like a dead black crow in its shroud. “Are you related to a rancher up north?”
“That’s my pa. He owns all the cattle out this way and up there, too.” He let the reins drop. “Mind if I join yo
u?”
Nell wasn’t sure if she minded or not. Moonie wasn’t either. He barked once and then backed up to stand in front of her. “No. Maybe you have some water with you?” If she was thirsty, so was her dog. “Is that other rider with you?”
A frown crossed his face, and then he smiled. He didn’t look back. The cowboy untied a canteen from the horse. “Sure thing. Take a swig, and I’ll pour some onto that lava over there a ways for your dog. It won’t soak in there.” He reached out with the canteen. “That’s a wrangler who comes from up north sometimes.”
Nellie kept Moonie in front of her, took the canteen, unscrewed the top, and took a long draught and handed it back. “Thank you.” The cowboy walked over to a small depression in the lava and poured a small amount. Moonshine immediately slurped it up.
“You know my pa?” The cowboy kept his distance.
“Cable O’Donnell? Yes. I met him this last summer—up in the Stanley Basin. I was with several sheep herders.” She thought she would get that out early, so he might leave. Dealing with strangers didn’t appeal to her after her adventures in the Basin. She had shoved the gun back into her jacket when the horse and man appeared. She walked over to her camera on its tripod. “I would like to take your photograph up on your horse. Would you mind?”
The cowboy studied the camera and then Nell. Then he glanced around and seemed to see the shroud for the first time. “What’s that?”
“A dead person. Sheriff Azgo and I and a man from Arco found it in the cave over there. The sheriff is going after some men to help take the body back to town.” She fiddled with her camera and placed her black cloth on her head. “They’ll be back soon.” She had a good view of the cowboy, upside down. He walked toward her, so she pulled the cloth off.
“I don’t want my pitcher taken.” Moonie again placed himself between the cowboy and Nellie. He growled when the man stepped closer. “Oops, sorry, pooch. I just don’t like my pitcher taken.” He stepped back and then walked over to the dead man.
