Punching keys on my laptop, I tried to keep my gaze off the desk phone. Across from me, Thomas Crane, the intern I had roped in, worked on topographical maps for the Helena-Lewis & Clark National Park. The task was little better than make-work while we waited for Moske to give the go ahead.
“Do you think we’ll have another day’s delay?” Crane asked.
Back teeth clenched together, I shook my head.
“It’s past ten already,” he countered. It had apparently been a slow summer at his regular assignment and he was chomping at the bit to get some field time in.
I shot a hard look that forced Crane’s gaze back to the computer’s display. Grabbing my cell phone, I pushed gingerly out of my chair.
“Back in a few,” I told him. “Don’t run off to Bozeman while I’m gone.”
Leaving the office, I entered the stairwell. I leaned over the rail and listened as I looked down, then up, to make sure there was no foot traffic. Satisfied I had relative privacy for making a call, I hit the contact number for Moske.
He picked up on the fifth ring.
“Was just about to call,” he drawled.
Moving over to the windowsill, I tossed a small notepad down and pulled out a pen.
“What’s the deal?”
“The park can spare a ranger and a horse.”
“A horse?” I growled. “You’re not sending any officers?”
“If I wasn’t trying to balance resources I don’t have,” Moske growled back, “you’d have been out there yesterday. You work with what you got.”
“Fine, what ranger?”
“Howard Gould,” Moske answered before reading off the man’s callback number.
I wrote it down, angrily underlining that I could only expect one ranger and one horse.
“Listen,” he barked. “You handle this within the park. Stay off private land.”
“I have permission to—”
“Not from me, you don’t.”
The words rumbled in my ear, a snarl twisting each one. I could almost imagine Moske foaming at the mouth. From the start, he had taken a hard stance with me. I still hadn’t determined the cause. I figured the two likeliest reasons were my getting a job he hoped would go to someone else or he liked his agents to have the same “equipment” he had. Option number three was my weight, although the man didn’t have any room to talk and I was certain I could bench press more than Moske could at any time in his life.
“Fine,” I repeated. “Anything else?”
“Yeah. If you don’t find something today, you drop it. We don’t have enough agents for you to be out on a snipe hunt. Got it?”
“Got it.”
I waited for him to hang up first. I placed the phone next to the notepad so I wouldn’t throw it. My hand immediately curled into a fist. I eyed the window, then the brick wall. Shaking my head, I reared my left leg back—and froze.
“Okay, okay…kicking the wall would make you a Class A idiot, Callahan.”
I eased down onto the stairs and dropped my head between my knees. Whatever the hell was up with Moske, I wouldn’t be any good to the agency if my temper resulted in a re-fractured leg.
Still sitting, I reached up and pulled my phone and notepad from the windowsill. I dialed Gould and asked him if he could find a second horse because I would be bringing an intern.
“I know you’re strapped for personnel…”
“Not really,” the man responded. “Moske said you only needed one.”
My jaw dropped. I had asked him for service agents and enough rangers to bring in the packs spotted with Sutton’s drone.
“You know, I could use more, but Phil is probably trying to save up good will,” I said.
The ranger laughed. “Can’t say I’d ever think that about him. Let’s say I tack on two forestry interns—my call and for the purpose of getting them training on this sort of thing. That leaves nothing Moske can gripe about.”
“That would be great. We should be there in about two hours if that works. I was told we need to approach the location from within the park.”
“Yeah, that’s our head ranger talking. Would be a lot faster if we used the access road on Lindy Turk’s property.”
My brows lifted. No one in Walker’s family had talked about the land as if it belonged to them. From what little Walker had said, I thought he only had access to cut the trees.
“Maybe your boss is trying to save up good will,” I offered, covering the brief silence with a laugh.
“Not necessary with the Turks. They take their stewardship of the land seriously. Same for Lindy’s folks. That’s where the land bordering that part of the park comes from.”
“We’ll make do,” I said, finishing up the conversation. “See you in two with the extra bodies and horses.”
Returning to my contacts list, I dialed Thomas and told him to be ready to go in ten minutes. Hanging up, I shot off a quick text message to Walker, letting him know I would be out his way in a couple of hours, but that Moske was making me do things the hard way. No civilians and nothing but park access.
Less than a minute after I hit send, my phone signaled a new text.
Hope to see you this weekend.
Reading his quick reply, I smiled, the pain in my leg a lot more bearable with Walker on my mind.
Nothing, absolutely nothing!
I rode my borrowed horse back over the section I had just traveled. The GPS coordinates read the same as those captured by Sutton’s drone. I, Gould, Thomas, and the two forestry interns had worked a grid that accounted for any possible variations between our GPS readings and the drone’s.
Hearing the rumble of two ATVs on the hill, I shored up my grip on the reins and coaxed the horse into leaving the tree line. Looking to my left, I saw Thomas and one of the park’s interns exit the woods. To my right, Gould and the second intern were out of sight.
I turned my attention back to the ridge as Walker and Sutton came into view. Using my radio, I checked in with Gould.
Stopping his ATV in front of the park border sign, Walker jumped off. I rode forward, dismounted and used the sign to tether the horse.
Staying on the other four-wheeler, Sutton pulled out a set of binoculars and scanned the terrain. He interrupted the survey a couple of times to look at his phone, swiping through pictures he’d downloaded from the drone’s original flight.
“There,” he pointed toward a pine that stood a good twenty feet higher than any of the surrounding trees. “The gap is there.”
Twenty feet to the south of where Sutton pointed, Gould emerged from the trees, his intern in tow and scowling.
Kaylee, the other intern, sidled up on her horse and snickered. “Dave is still working on his navigation badge.”
“Easy enough to get lost in there,” Sutton said, stowing the binoculars. “I know I have.”
Kaylee shrugged, but her gaze lingered on the former soldier. He still wore a military cut and his shirt was all starched lines and smooth planes despite riding the ATV.
Restarting the machine, he drove along the park border. I remounted my horse and followed, Walker overtaking me on his ATV and Kaylee and Thomas bringing up the rear.
Reaching the Turks and Gould, I found that the men had already hashed out an agreement to help. Sutton would be allowed to ride his ATV “gently” through the trees. Walker could go in on foot or double up on one of the horses.
“I’ll walk,” he said with a nod at the dense woods. “Not a one of you is getting through that faster on four legs than I will on two.”
Except for the clearing, he was right. And at times he was faster than the rest of us as we carefully guided the horses around underbrush, gnarled roots and other hazards.
About ten feet past the clearing, Sutton stopped and got off his ATV. Taking his phone out, he took a picture then walked a few more trees ahead and snapped another photo.
“You didn’t miss seeing the packs,” he said when everyone caught up. “You missed seeing their absence.”
“What?” Kaylee asked, dismounting. “I’ve seen their absence all over the place.”
Offering me a hand in getting down from the mare I was riding, Walker snorted.
“Don’t wait for everyone to not see what you’re not seeing, Sutty. Just show us.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Sutton shook his head.
“Independent verification provides better validation.”
“I’m game,” I said, walking over to the area where Sutton had taken the first photo. I looked at the trunk, ran my hands over the bark, looked at the lowest tree limbs.
“Here,” I said. “The bark has been worn down from the rope.”
With my finger pointed, I traced a line around the tree and up over a branch.
“Same on this one,” Thomas said, standing by Sutton.
“So the packs were here, but we’ve got no idea what was in them, who placed them, and who took them back out.” Gould pulled his cap off and wiped some sweat from his brow. “That about right?”
Chewing at the inside of my cheek, I nodded. “We also don’t know why they picked between sometime today and two nights ago to retrieve the packs.”
Gould crossed his arms, his stance mirroring Sutton’s. A tic flared at the corner of his jaw.
“Could be coincidence,” Thomas offered. “Or the activity with the drone was noticed the last time you were out and spooked whoever stored the packs here.”
Stroking the mare’s neck, Walker looked at me and frowned.
“Whatever the reason,” he said, “you’ve got nothing to take back to Moske.”
I nodded. Walker was right.
The investigation, for now, was finished.