Sixteen

It has always been my private conviction that any man who pits
his intelligence against a fish and loses has it coming.

—JOHN STEINBECK

Mandy walked into the ballroom of the Salida SteamPlant Friday evening for the festivities closing the Rocky Mountain Cup fly-fishing tournament, but she sure wasn’t in a festive mood. She was emotionally wrung out after her session with Cynthia. The roar of many conversations going on at once assaulted her ears and threatened to overwhelm her.

She moved woodenly into the chow line and let servers pile barbecued beef strips, coleslaw, and a sandwich bun on her plate. After collecting a glass of lemonade, and an oatmeal-raisin cookie, she looked around for a place to sit. She spotted Rob and Gonzo at a table talking to Tim, the Aussie fisherman she’d rescued a week ago. Another large, ruddy-skinned man, presumably one of Tim’s fishing buddies, sat next to him, shoveling coleslaw into his mouth. Mandy wended her way through the buzzing crowd to the table and sat in an empty seat next to Rob.

Before she could say hello, Tim whacked his friend on the arm with the back of his hand, sending a forkful of coleslaw sliding onto the floor. “Speak of the devil, here she is, the lovely lady I was telling you about who fished me out of the river.” He introduced his companion as Vince.

Mandy shook Vince’s hand. “Were you Tim’s partner in the competition?”

“Yes, and a finer fisherman can’t be found in all of Down Under. You should have seen the huge rainbow he pulled out of the river this morning.”

Tim nodded. “Lurking in a hole, he was, but he was more than happy to take a snap at my San Juan worm. Who would’ve thought that a cheap bit of plastic like that would look so tasty to a big, old trout? Got Rob here to thank for that. He told me a few days ago how partial your local trout are to dry-nymph combos. You two know each other?”

Gonzo, who was drinking a soda, gave a snort then grabbed a napkin to wipe his face.

Rob smiled and showed his palm to Mandy, indicating the floor was hers.

“You could say that,” Mandy said to Tim with a wry smile. “We know each other very well. We’ve been dating for a few months.”

“Exactly five months tomorrow,” Rob added.

Mandy raised a brow at Rob. “I didn’t know you were keeping track of the days so closely.”

“Hey, I would, too,” Tim said, “if I was dating a looker like you.” He held up his left hand to display his wedding ring. “But don’t get me wrong. I’ve got a good woman at home myself who knows how to keep her bloke happy.”

Vince gave him an elbow nudge. “Like giving you a kitchen pass to fly halfway around the world for a fishing tournament.”

Tim just grinned while Rob gave Mandy’s thigh a gentle squeeze under the table.

Mandy used the break in the conversation to study Rob’s face. Every color of the rainbow, it seemed, appeared in the bruises under his eyes and in his puffy cheeks. Under the bandage, his broken nose still looked swollen, though less than it had the night before. “How’s your nose?”

Rob shrugged. “Still hurts like hell, but at least I can breathe some now. I took the stuffing out right before I came over here.”

“We saw the fight yesterday,” Vince said. “You really copped it fair in the face. Glad to hear you’re on the mend. I bet you’re still pissed at the bloke who whacked you, though.”

Rob shook his head. “As soon as he saw me walk in here tonight, Jesse came over to apologize. He said he was so mad at Ira that he didn’t know who he was swinging at. He even offered to bring over a six-pack of Pacifico, which I didn’t turn down.”

Mandy bristled. “A six-pack is hardly apology enough. How about paying your hospital bill?”

“We’ll talk about that over the beer,” Rob said quietly.

Mandy knew from his tone that the subject was closed, and the two men would resolve the issue between them, so she turned to Gonzo. “How’d it go in the office today? I meant to come in and help, but I ended up visiting Cynthia in jail instead.”

“It went fine,” Gonzo said. “We only had one trip, and Kendra stayed to help clean up.”

“I’m sure you handled everything well.” Rob gave Mandy’s thigh another squeeze.

Realizing this was her cue to add her compliment, too, Mandy said, “Yes, it’s great that we can count on you when we can’t come in. Thanks so much, Gonzo.”

Gonzo sat up a little straighter. “How’s Cynthia? I heard Quintana arrested her. That guy’s got his head up his ass.”

“I wish I agreed,” Mandy said. “But I can’t come up with a better suspect for him.”

Tim and Vince had quizzical looks on their faces, and Mandy really didn’t want to have to explain the whole situation to the two Aussies. She was saved by a screech of the microphone followed by John Squire’s voice booming in the room, “Quiet, everyone, please. It’s time to start giving out some of these awards.”

A round of applause broke out, accompanied by a few whistles, as people focused their gazes on the front of the room. John and his wife, Carol, stood there behind a table laden with trophies and brand-new fishing gear still in cellophane packages. Mandy used the break in conversation to take a couple of bites of her barbecue and slaw. When Rob draped his arm over her shoulders, she smiled at her injured hero. Maybe she could apply some of her own brand of tender loving care after the ceremony.

He smiled back at her as if his thoughts were along the same lines.

Her growling stomach interrupted her reverie so she scooped another forkful of the succulently sauced beef into her mouth and chewed appreciatively. She realized she was starving and hadn’t eaten all day, what with her worrying about Cynthia.

She ate and clapped at the appropriate times as John went through the process of handing out some of the donated gear for the biggest fish caught in each species, the most fish caught each day, and so on. Of course, the donors of the prizes, fishing shops, outfitter services, suppliers, and so on, had to be profusely thanked and acknowledged.

The tension in the room grew as John awarded the third, and then the second-place team and individual cash prizes for the tournament. The clapping and hollering grew louder for each announcement. Then John signaled for quiet before the first-place announcements. He used the pregnant pause to thank all of his volunteers and ask them to stand for applause. Almost half of the people in the room stood up, including Rob.

Mandy smiled up at her battered champion and whistled her appreciation.

Once all of the volunteers were seated and the room was quiet again, John said, “Okay, I’m sure everyone is anxiously waiting to hear who won the big cash prizes for the first place awards. The team that scored first place really racked up the fish count on the wading day, pulling in a total of forty-six trout between them.”

He paused for the crowd to acknowledge this, and Mandy saw Jesse Lopez and his partner high-fiving each other. She leaned over to Rob. “Looks like Jesse and his partner think John’s talking about them. Is that Jesse’s brother?”

“Yes,” Rob said. “When Jesse apologized, he told me he thought their scores were good enough to win. His brother’s wife is expecting again, so they could really use the money.”

“But where this first-place team really excelled was on the float-fishing day,” John continued. “Most of the other teams’ scores were lower on that day, compared to the wading day, probably because one partner or another had to keep stopping to row or steer the raft. This team’s score, however, actually went up on the float-fishing day.”

Jesse and his brother were grinning at each other like fools now.

“They caught a total of fifty-three trout on the second day, making their grand total ninety-nine. Couldn’t you have caught just one more, fellas?”

At this, the crowd laughed.

“Everyone give a warm round of applause to our first-place team, Jesse and Rafael Lopez.”

A roar went up as the two men worked their way to the front and shook hands with John and Carol. John handed them a check and a large trophy on a wooden base with a plaque. Rafael hefted the shiny gold cup and held it aloft for all to see. He nodded toward a dark-haired woman sitting off to Mandy’s left, who was clapping wildly with tears in her eyes. The woman’s pregnancy bulge was large enough that her belly button was poking out, forming a small lump under her straining T-shirt.

That prize money is coming just in time, Mandy thought as she turned back to the front of the room.

John shushed the crowd by waving his arms down. He put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “So, tell us your secret, Jesse. How’d you two catch so many fish?” He held the microphone under Jesse’s mouth.

“Well, not by cheating, that’s for sure,” Jesse said.

While the crowd groaned, Mandy noticed Ira Porter glowering on the far right side of the room. She decided he shouldn’t be too upset. He did walk away with the second-place individual trophy. His rookie teammate, however, kept them out of the money for the team awards.

“Rafael and I have grown up in this valley” Jesse continued, “and we know the contours of the riverbed like we know the bodies of our wives.”

The crowd roared with laughter. Rafael’s wife lowered her head, her cheeks flaming.

“We fish the Arkansas every chance we get—”

Rafael grabbed the mike. “Yeah, maybe our wives won’t complain so much now after we take them out for steak and champagne to celebrate!”

That led to another round of cheers, one from Rafael’s wife.

The two men started to walk back to their seats, but John grabbed Jesse’s shoulder, holding him back. “Might as well stay up here, Jesse, because you’re our first-place individual winner!”

Rafael ran back and wrapped his brother in a bear hug while the crowd clapped and cheered. John handed Jesse another check and large trophy, and the two brothers held the pair of awards up for all to see.

Once the crowd finally quieted down, John said, “Jesse’s individual catch for the two tournament days was sixty-three trout, and he caught three of the four species in the river. Not quite a Colorado Grand Slam, but close. So, Jesse, how do you feel?” He held the mike out again.

“Very, very happy,” Jesse said. “I only wish Howie Abbott was still alive so I could have beat him fair and square. But I’m sure I would have. My rod was smoking these past two days.”

The two men started working their way back to their table, shaking hands and accepting congratulations along the way. Behind them, John made final announcements, reminded everyone to return next year, and asked people to throw away their trash and for a few folks to stay and stack chairs.

When Jesse and Rafael reached their table, Rob stood and shook both their hands. “Good job, guys. Congratulations!”

“Now I feel even worse for breaking your nose,” Jesse said, while Rafael moved on to the next table. “A tournament winner should set an example for the young folks and shouldn’t be brawling and cursing.”

“I’m sure you’ll think twice before you do something like that again.”

“Yeah, well now that I’ve got all this dough, I’ll be bringing over a case of beer, not just a six-pack.”

Mandy started to say something about Rob’s hospital bill, but Rob shot her a look, then turned to Jesse. “And while we’re celebrating your win with the beer, we can talk about the doctor bill, and how you might help me out there.”

Jesse’s eyes widened with surprise, but he quickly recovered. “Yeah, sure thing, man.” He held up the trophy and took a good look at it again. “You know, it felt good to whup Ira’s ass, but I wish Howie was still alive, so I could have beaten him, too. I really wanted to stuff this sucker in his face.”

“As you said up there, your rod was smoking,” Rob said with a smile, “so you would have beaten him anyway.”

Jesse held up a thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “There will always be that little bit of doubt, but I’ll try not to let it bother me.” He plastered on a big smile. When Rafael pulled on his arm to talk to someone else, Jesse gave Rob and Mandy a little salute, but his smile was already starting to fade.

“Sounds like Jesse’s not quite satisfied with his win,” Mandy said as she watched him walk away. And if he really felt that way, would he have killed his main competition right before the tournament? Or did he sneak away from his gas station between customers, and this regretful talk is all just for show?

“Well, I’m satisfied,” Rob said while draping an arm over her shoulder. “I’ve picked up cards from four of the out-of-state teams here who are interested in using our fishing-guide services once we train our guides and buy the equipment. Speaking of which, any word from the real estate agent? Did the couple respond to your counteroffer?”

Mandy tensed. “Bridget called with a new offer from them right after Cynthia was arrested and while I was waiting to see her. I told Bridget I couldn’t think clearly then, that I needed the weekend to mull it over and I’d get back to her Monday.”

After a pregnant pause, Rob said, “And you’re still mulling it over.”

“I haven’t even started to think about it.” Mandy suddenly felt totally wiped out from all the events and stress of the day. She leaned against Rob. “What I really need is a good night’s sleep, if I can even get to sleep while worrying about Cynthia.”

Rob kissed the top of her head. “Okay, I get the message. I’ll give you your space tonight and tomorrow. If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

While he walked her to her car, Mandy realized that though she hadn’t really meant to send the message to Rob to back off and leave her alone, maybe it was for the better. And thank God he wasn’t mad about it. She glanced at him. Nope, he wasn’t. It was almost creepy. The man understood her better than she understood herself.

_____

Mandy spent Saturday on the Arkansas, rowing her cataraft beside Steve’s as they patrolled the river. Thankfully, she hadn’t had to rescue anyone because her mind was engrossed with the dilemma of getting Cynthia out of jail. She had called Lee Ellis in the morning and set up an appointment that evening to discuss Cynthia’s bail fund with the family.

While she and Steve had paddled through Brown’s Canyon in the morning, Mandy had run names of potential donors through her head and figured out how to approach each one and for how much money. She didn’t need to worry about Rob; he’d already offered money the night before. Mandy practiced her pitches on Steve until he said he’d contribute some money if she’d just stop obsessing about it and focus on her ranger duties instead.

Only a few pods of commercial rafts and a couple of private rafts were in the canyon that morning since the season was winding down and the water level was low. None of the rafters had any difficulties, and Steve only had to give one private boater a stern warning about not leaving trash on the river bank after a lunch stop. They had watched while the guy paddled back to the shore and gathered up his trash to stow in his raft.

It was one of the last warm days of the rafting season. A cold front was due in late that afternoon, bringing with it rain, plunging temperatures, and the unofficial start of fall, though the fall equinox wouldn’t occur for a few more days. Mandy had brought her fleece and spray jackets along in case they were still on the Arkansas when the weather blew in. Right now, though, after finally focusing on her surroundings instead of on Cynthia, she was enjoying the brilliant sunshine sparkling on the river and the brilliant yellows of the hillside aspens.

Steve gave voice to her thought, “A perfect late summer afternoon.”

Mandy sluiced her oars through the water. “I’m going to miss being out on the river most days.”

“Yeah, the end of the month will be here before you know it, and your employment for the year will be over. You’ve had a great first season, Mandy. I’d like to recommend that AHRA hire you again next year. You still interested?”

Mandy glanced at Steve’s earnest face. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You and Rob have RM Outdoor Adventures to run.” He shrugged. “I thought that might take more of your time, especially if Rob’s plans for expansion pan out.”

“No matter what, I’ll make time to be a river ranger next summer. I like the work. I get paid to be on the river. It’s exciting…a little too exciting sometimes, though.”

Steve cracked a smile. “I won’t count the bodies against you.”

“I hope not!” Mandy smiled back at him. “And thanks for the recommendation. It’s nice to know I didn’t screw up too much. And sorry about bugging you this morning with my pleas for bail money.”

“I’m glad to help.” Steve’s brow furrowed. “But what about future expenses? Can Cynthia afford a good lawyer?”

Mandy sighed. “I doubt it. I’m hoping to convince her to ask her mom for help, even though they’re on the outs.”

“An even more important question is whether Cynthia really needs a good lawyer. How solid is Quintana’s case?”

“He’s got physical evidence, her thumbprint on the murder weapon. That’s pretty damning. And she has motive, but I don’t want to go into it.”

“I’ve heard rumors. Remember, Salida’s a small town. The rafting community’s even smaller, and we count Cynthia as one of our own. She’s served all of us at the Vic. What a bum deal.” Steve rested his oars under his knees and peered at Mandy. “Are you convinced she’s innocent?”

A lump rose in Mandy’s throat. “God, I wish I could say yes, that I’m a hundred percent convinced, but I can’t. I want her to be innocent. I really can’t picture her using that hatchet on her own uncle.”

Steve looked off into the distance. “Nor can I.” He pointed. “Hey, there’s your uncle’s place. I’m starving and could use a break. Why don’t we stop and hike up to it? There are picnic tables in the backyard, right?”

“Right. Good idea. I haven’t checked on the place yet this week, with all the stuff that’s been going on. Thanks for suggesting we stop.”

They beached their rafts and tied them to some willow bushes, then hiked up the hill and across the road to her uncle’s abode that had also housed his small whitewater rafting business. On the way, Steve said, “I heard you put the house up for sale.”

“Yeah, but I’m still not convinced I want to part with it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s the last home I shared with Uncle Bill. I’ve got a lot of good memories of happy times here.”

Steve nodded and stopped to gaze at the quiet house. “Reminds me of something your uncle told me once. He said the river was his real home, that he always just thought of this as a place to run his business and lay his head at night until you came to live with him.” Steve looked at her. “Bill said you made it a second home for him. Until you moved out, that is.”

Tears sprang to Mandy’s eyes, and all she could do was nod in response.

Sensing her need for some private time, Steve went around to the back to sit at one of the weathered picnic tables there and eat a late lunch.

Mandy used her key to go inside and look around. Since a lot of the furniture had been removed, the old wood floors and walls echoed with her footsteps. She looked over the customer check-in counter into Uncle Bill’s office, but without the desk and chair, she couldn’t really form a picture of him sitting there anymore with the phone to his ear. It was the same in the other mostly empty rooms. While she had memories still of what had gone on in those rooms, she didn’t feel her uncle’s presence in any of them. It just felt cold and foreign, like the abandoned building it was.

After locking up, she walked back down to the river and sat on the bank to eat her PBJ sandwich in the sun. A breeze caressed her face and a sense of calm oozed into her tense muscles. Here, outdoors, was always where she and Uncle Bill had belonged, where they found comfort, fulfillment, and their livelihoods. And wasn’t outside where she had felt his presence since he’d died? Not once, when she’d been in his house after he died, had she ever heard his voice, felt his touch. But she had sometimes on the river, especially where she’d cast his ashes.

She put the last quarter of her sandwich on the plastic bag in the grass beside her and hugged her knees to watch the current flow by. Suddenly a Western bluebird swooped down and snatched a beakful of bread with jam, carrying it into an alder bush by the bank. Mandy could no longer see the bird among the foliage, but she could hear its soft kew calls and chatter as it savored the sweet treat it had snatched. Probably fattening itself up before it flew down to Mexico for the winter.

“Got a real sweet tooth, huh,” Mandy said to the bird.

Just like Uncle Bill.

Mandy stuffed the rest of her sandwich in the bag and got to her feet. She headed back up the hill toward Steve and the house, the house that she now knew what to do with.