A Solitude of Wolverines

by ALICE HENDERSON

  “And what is that little gal gonna do? She can’t do nothing.”

  “You have to round them up,” Makepeace said.

  “What then?”

  “If you have to, knock down a fence on another part of the boundary and graze ’em there. Just don’t cut it this time. It was too obvious.”

  “And if that little gal sees those head again and comes back to you?”

  “I’ll deal with it then,” Makepeace growled.

  “Smart man. Knew I could count on you.” She heard footsteps moving toward the mouth of the alley and hurried back toward the hardware store door.

  “You put me in an awkward position,” she heard Makepeace say.

  “But you’ll come through it. You always do.”

  Moments later, as Alex slipped inside the store, she saw Cooper emerge from the alley, strutting, a cruel, thin smile on his face.

  A knot formed in Alex’s stomach. She knew Makepeace wasn’t the friendliest person in the world, but she hadn’t considered this possibility, that he was in someone’s pocket.

  She moved through the aisles slowly, gathering supplies. She wondered why Makepeace was cooperating with Cooper, if it was blackmail or just a simple bribe. Makepeace obviously wasn’t too pleased about it.

  When she’d picked out the right sizes of nuts and bolts, she brought them up to the counter. The owner, Gary, stood behind the cash register, eyeing her without a smile. If he recognized her from her previous visit, he didn’t make any outward sign of it. “Hi,” she said in an abnormally cheerful voice, trying to dispel the tension. “Can you cut some more lumber for me?”

  He sighed, then glanced toward the door. “Sure. There’s a lull right now.”

  She looked around, seeing no one else in the store. Gary came around the counter begrudgingly, like he was doing her an extra favor. Wasn’t it part of his job to cut lumber?

  “You building another trap?” he asked as they walked to the lumber room.

  “Yeah. My last one got destroyed.”

  “Did it now.” He didn’t look at her, his eyes fixed in the distance.

  “Yeah. Camera was stolen, too.”

  “That’s too bad.” He picked up his pace toward the lumber.

  “I thought so, too.”

  “Same dimensions as before?” he asked, selecting a two-by-four.

  “Yes, please.”

  He put on a set of industrial earmuffs and went about cutting the wood. Alex held her hands over her ears as the saw ground through the boards. When he finished, he removed his earmuffs and looked at her, really meeting her eyes for the first time. He glanced nervously toward the main part of the store, then paused, as if listening. “Let me ask you something,” he began, only to shut his mouth when the bell above the front door tinkled.

  He gathered up the wood.

  “Yes?” she asked him.

  “What?”

  “You were going to ask me something?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing.”

  He handed her the pieces of wood and hurried out to the counter. A couple in their seventies had walked in, all flannel and jeans and boots. The woman had perfectly styled short hair and a dazzling smile. The man was handsome, his hair gone gray, one arm over her shoulder. “Hi, Gary,” he said, nodding at the owner.

  “Hello, Ron. Janice.” His demeanor changed completely. He greeted them kindly, giving them a friendly smile. “You looking for some more paint?”

  “You guessed it,” Janice said. “This weekend we’re doing the living room.”

  “Let me ring this gal up and I’ll get to you.”

  The couple looked toward Alex with reserved smiles. “Oh, hello,” Janice said.

  Alex walked toward the counter. “Hi.”

  “You new here?” Janice asked her.

  Laying the wood on the counter, Alex turned toward them. “Yes. I’m staying up at the Snowline.”

  Gary rang up the wood. “She’s with that wildlife group.”

  Ron lifted his eyebrows. “The land trust?”

  “That’s the one,” Alex told him, bracing herself for a cold reception.

  Gary started shoving her small bags of hardware into a larger bag, then gathered up the pieces of lumber.

  To her surprise, Ron said, “We’d love to talk to you about that.”

  Janice nodded. “Yes, we’re thinking of putting a conservation easement on our land.”

  Her husband smiled. “That’s right. We’ve got twelve hundred acres along the north fork of the river.”

  Alex lit up, turning to them. “That’s wonderful. I can get you in touch with the director. The organization would be more than happy to talk to you about the process.” She smiled. “Twelve hundred acres. That would be an absolute boon to wildlife.”

  Alex looked back at Gary. His mouth was pursed tightly, a colorless slit.

  “That’s $26.26,” he said, looking at the merchandise instead of her. Then he put one hand on his hip as she pulled out her cash. Looking toward the couple, he narrowed his eyes.

  In her pocket, she found a small piece of paper where she’d jotted down some notes, and checked over them. “Oh, shoot. I forgot the alligator clips.”

  Gary took her money and shoved it into the drawer, then gathered up her things. “I’ll put these into the bed of your truck while you get them.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Gary.”

  He hurried out the door without saying anything more to her.

  Alex borrowed the pen on the counter and wrote down the website address for the land trust. She handed it to Janice and Ron. “Here’s the website. You can learn more about how the organization operates. I think a conservation easement is an amazing idea.”

  Janice took the slip of paper. “We’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Starting to worry about the future of our spread. We’d hate to see a million luxury condos go up there. There’s talk of building a new ski resort on the parcel adjoining ours. If that happens, goodbye, wildlife. Hello, upscale shopping and wine-tasting bars.”

  Alex hadn’t heard about the new ski resort. “Is the plan for the resort finalized?”

  Ron shook his head. “Far from it. There’s been some local opposition. Some people are definitely eager to bring in the tourist dollars.”

  “But some of us,” Janice added, “want to keep things just as they are. This is a quaint little town. Nice and quiet. It’s why we retired here. I’d hate to see it become commercialized.”

  Ron drew out his wallet and picked out a card. “Here’s our contact information, too. We’d love to talk to someone who knows about the legal process.”

  Alex took the card and read it:

  Ron and Janice Nedermeyer

  Interior Design

  Antiques are our specialty!

  Janice said, “We started a business after we retired. Too much idle time for my taste.”

  Alex slid the card into her back pocket. “I’ll give your contact info to the land trust director. What did you do before you retired?”

  Ron smiled. “Lawyers. Both of us. Don’t hold it against us,” he added, chuckling, and Alex could tell he’d used the line countless times before.

  She held out her hand. “I’m Alex Carter, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.” They all shook hands. “I’ll have the director call you,” Alex added.

  “Thanks,” Janice said. “How fortuitous to run into you!”

  And how pleasant, Alex thought, thinking of the predominantly chilly reception she’d had here. While the Nedermeyers headed off toward the paint section, Alex returned to the hardware aisle and filled a small bag with alligator clips.

  When she went back to the counter, Gary still hadn’t returned. She waited for a minute, checking her list to be sure she had everything. Then she went to the store’s front windows.

  Gary was just walking up to the door. She saw Makepeace a few feet away, heading off down the street. Had they been talking?

  The bell jingled as Gary entered. “All packed
away,” he told her, then rang up her remaining items. “Good luck with the wolverines,” he said as she left, and Alex couldn’t tell if he was sincere or not.

  She was on her way home, on a lonely stretch of road, when the truck suddenly made a loud squealing noise, then went silent. The engine continued to run, but something was definitely wrong. Growing up, she’d had a series of older cars. At first she learned to fix them herself out of financial necessity. But later she came to love working on cars. She suspected what had just happened—the drive belt had broken. She pulled to the side of the highway and got out, popping the hood.

  Peering inside, she saw that it was definitely the belt. It was still draped over one of the pulleys, but had broken. She reached inside the engine compartment and pulled it out. The belt looked almost new with very little wear. But a clean cut ran most of the way through the belt, leaving only a small part that would eventually break due to the tension. It didn’t look like a natural break because of wear.

  She leaned into the compartment, doing a visual inspection of the rest of the engine, but didn’t see anything else glaringly wrong. Shutting the hood, she returned to the driver’s seat, placing the broken belt next to her.

  Checking her cell phone, she noticed that she didn’t have reception. She could drive as long as the battery lasted, now that the car wouldn’t be running off the alternator. She checked her mileage. She was closer to the town than she was to the resort, and in the town, she could get a replacement belt. She turned around, hoping the car would last until she got there.

  She switched off everything that would be drawing power, like the fan. There was still plenty of daylight left, so she didn’t need the headlights. She drove on, patting the car’s dash. “You can make it!” she encouraged it. She thought about the cut belt. In cars this old, the hood release wasn’t located inside the car itself. It was mounted right on the hood, which meant anyone could have opened it and tampered with her car. Maybe while she was at lunch after her meeting with Flint Cooper. She shook her head. She was probably being needlessly suspicious. It could have just been a faulty belt. Or maybe it was damaged sometime long before she arrived and finally it just broke. She checked her odometer. It was eleven miles back to town.

  The wagon made it five of those miles. Then the engine suddenly died near the turnoff for a rural rest area. She coasted the wagon into the exit lane and aimed the car down a steep turnaround that offered a few picnic tables and a restroom. Feeling slightly paranoid, she was grateful that here the wagon couldn’t be seen from the road.

  The rest area was empty. She checked her phone. Still no signal. She was going to have to start walking.

  Sixteen

  Grabbing her small daypack, Alex put her water bottle and wallet inside, then slung it on her back and started the long walk to town. Maybe if someone came by, she could hitch a ride. A thrill of fear ran through her at the thought of encountering the beat-up blue pickup truck out here when she was on foot. But she hadn’t passed another car since she’d left town.

  She decided to enjoy the walk. The weather was perfect—mostly cloudy to keep the hot sun off. It had rained that morning, and mist hung in the valleys, obscuring the higher peaks. The air smelled of pine and sagebrush. A red-tailed hawk glided above an expanse of meadow to her right, wheeling in circles.

  She’d walked a little over a mile when she heard a car approaching behind her. She prayed it wouldn’t be the pickup. She moved off the shoulder to give them a little more space, debating whether or not to hitchhike. She chided herself for watching so many horror movies that started out just like this. But then as the car drew closer, she saw it was a sheriff’s car. She wondered if it was Makepeace and then chuckled a little to herself, picturing the stream of invectives from his mouth if she waved him down. She went for it, lifting up a hand as the cruiser drew nearer.

  The car slowed and pulled over, and to her relief, she saw it was Deputy Joe Remar. “What are you doing on foot? Car break down?” he asked.

  “It sure did.”

  “Well, hop in. I’ll call a tow and they’ll bring it to town.”

  “Actually,” she said, leaning into the window, “would it put you out too much to take me to a car parts store? I know what’s wrong, and it’s a quick fix.”

  “Sure.”

  She climbed in, and he pulled onto the road toward town. “I admire someone who can fix their own car. My dad always wanted me to learn. Guess I don’t have much mechanical aptitude. I can stare into the engine compartment and make noises like I see exactly what’s wrong, but I don’t have a clue.”

  She laughed. “I used to be the same way. But being a broke college student with a thirty-year-old car made me have to learn. It’s actually kind of fun.”

  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “You’re something else.”

  “So where were you heading?”

  “Just patrolling the area, making sure the streets are safe.”

  “I’m lucky you were.”

  “Were you headed to town?”

  “I’d actually already been, but when the car started to break down, I headed back. But it gave out on me. Had an interesting time in town, though.”

  “Oh, yeah?” he asked.

  “I was there to report some Bar C Ranch cattle that are grazing on preserve land.”

  He looked at her, his mouth falling open. “You didn’t.”

  “I did.”

  “And what did the old buzzard say?”

  “You mean Makepeace or Cooper?”

  He laughed. “Hell, both.”

  “Makepeace seemed less than interested. I did meet Mr. Cooper, though.”

  The deputy stuck his gut out and then touched the brim of his hat toward her. “Afternoon, little lady,” he said in an uncanny impression of Cooper. “Is a little gal like you havin’ trouble with all that big land out there?”

  Alex burst out laughing. “Spot-on! Meeting Cooper was all the more interesting because I was having lunch with Kathleen at the time.”

  “Aw, hell, that’s a firestorm right there,” Joe said in his own voice. Then he frowned and drawled in his Cooper imitation, “This here little gal Kathleen passed up a golden opportunity to be with all this,” and swept his hand over his body. “Even my fifteen thousand acres couldn’t entice her. No, ma’am. It just goes to prove that she’s crazy.” The deputy looked over at her and grinned, being himself again. “Here I’d produce a thick, ropy stream of tobacco juice and let it dribble out like a brown waterfall from my lips, showing what Kathleen was missing out on, but I don’t chew.”

  Alex laughed again. “Now I’m not going to be able to keep a straight face if I see him again.”

  Deputy Remar shook his head. “I’m sure he acted all surprised when the sheriff told him his cattle were on protected land.”

  Alex thought about telling him what she’d overheard, but thought the better of it. She didn’t want to create friction between the deputy and his boss. If the cattle weren’t relocated, she’d tell Makepeace again, or even call Ben in Washington to see if they could exert some pressure.

  “How’d you like Kathleen, though?” Joe asked her.

  “She’s wonderful.”

  “Tell me about it. She makes work bearable. She’s an old friend of my grandmother’s, though I’m embarrassed to say my grandmother stopped talking to her after she turned Cooper down. I guess my grandmother worried she’d become unpopular or gossiped about if she kept their friendship going.”

  “He really has that much power?”

  “People give in to him. He’s the richest man in town by far, and is always trying to bully people. And the sad thing is that it works.”

  “Makes me want to punch him in the nose,” Alex said, feeling angry for Kathleen.

  “I’d pay to see that.”

  “Guess I shouldn’t have just confessed that to a law enforcement officer.”

  “I’d look the other way in that instance,” he said and laughed.


  “Mighty kind of you.”

  They pulled into town, and Joe stopped in front of a store with jim’s auto parts over the transom. A closed sign hung in the window, even though it was only three in the afternoon.

  “Oh no,” she breathed.

  “Don’t worry. He’s probably just in the back watching the ball game. Come on.” He climbed out of the car and she followed him down an alley to an attached living space behind the store.

  Joe rapped on the door. “Jim?”

  Sure enough, Alex could hear the sound of a baseball game filtering through the windows.

  The deputy rapped again, and the door creaked open to reveal a bent man in his eighties, blue veins in his ivory face. “What can I do for you?” he asked Joe.

  “We need a—” He turned to Alex. “What do you need?”

  “A drive belt for a 1947 Willys Wagon.”

  Joe repeated it back to the man in a louder voice.

  The older man nodded and said, “Meet you around front.”

  As they walked back toward the street, Joe said, “I’ll drive you back to your car. Make sure it’s all okay.”

  His kindness surprised her, even though he’d been nothing but nice. Small-town life. In the city, all the cop would have done was maybe call a tow truck for her, if he’d stopped at all.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Thanks. I’ll need a jump when we get there, if that’s okay.”

  Jim had only a generic belt replacement, but it was the same size, so she hoped it would work.

  She was relieved they didn’t see Makepeace. He was probably back in his office.

  Joe radioed Kathleen to tell her what he was doing, and she answered back, “You take good care of her.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When they got back to her car, Alex threaded the new belt around the pulleys. “All right. Now let’s jump it.” Joe retrieved jumper cables from the back of his cruiser and attached them to the batteries. Alex climbed into the wagon and turned it over. It roared to life. No more squealing. She climbed out and peered at her handiwork, which was holding together nicely. “I think that’ll do it,” she told him.