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I woke up with my head on Chance's chest and his arm around me. I was worried about Tom but felt much better after getting some sleep. I still needed more, but I felt like I could make it home before I crashed.
Before we got back on the snowmobiles, Chance said, "We probably need to talk about our cover story."
"Why do we need a cover story?" I asked.
"Because when someone shows up at a hospital with a gunshot wound, the police get involved. We're all going to have to give statements," Chance said.
"He's right," Jim agreed. "If we want to keep the observation location secret, we need to come up with a way to explain what we were doing out here."
"I think we go with a partial truth," Chance said. "Harry wanted you to learn outdoor skills and explore the woods where he spent so much time."
"The gun is going to complicate things," Jim said.
"We have to turn it in," Chance said. "We need to know if it's the weapon that was used to shoot Tom. There might be finger prints that will help them find out who is behind this."
"How do we protect the location?" I asked. I'm a terrible liar. If this cover story got too complicated, I'd never be able to pull it off.
"We won't give them any specific coordinates. We were just out following trails in the woods. There's no reason for them to know any more than that," Chance said. "Does that work, Jim?"
"They should only be looking for information to lead them to who shot Tom. Do we need to worry about what he might say if he wakes up?"
"We can worry about it, but that's about it," Chance said. "We'll just have to deal with it if he gives a different version of events than we do. We can probably use his injury to explain that away pretty easily."
"Y'all, I'm a terrible liar. I don't know if I can pull this off."
"It'll be fine," Jim said. "Try to answer any questions they ask with yes or no. Don't volunteer anything more. I'm your lawyer, I can be with you when they question you. Just refuse to talk until I'm there. It's SOP for the police. They won't expect it from you, but it's perfectly legal. You'd want to be cautious since you’re new in town."
"That's a good idea, Babe," Chance said.
Babe? When did I graduate from City Girl to Babe?
"I want you to know that I am not going to jail to protect bigfoot," I said.
Chance just gave me the dimple smile. "Wouldn't expect you to, Babe. You didn't do anything wrong. They can't just throw you in jail for no reason. Though perhaps they'd consider protective custody. You know to protect the rest of the public from you."
"I did not shoot Tom." At that, I burst into tears.
Chance moved to wrap his arms around me. His big hand cradled the back of my head and held it against his chest.
"There's nothing to worry about, Em," Jim said. "You'll be fine."
Once I had my emotions reined in again, we headed down the trail—Jim riding alone and me holding onto Chance.
I tried to think through what they said logically. I understood that I'd have to give a statement to the police. I wasn't looking forward to it, but I knew I'd have to do it. I wanted them to find whoever shot Tom. I remembered that whoever shot Tom, had done so just after we'd been photographing bigfoot. That meant they—whoever they were—probably saw the creature too. If the police arrested them for shooting Tom would they claim they were aiming at the bigfoot? Fudge. Fudge. Fudge.
When we stopped, I explained my concern to Chance. "It's possible, but there's nothing we can do about it. If they find the guy who shot Tom, we can't control what he tells the police."
"So, do we just hope they don't find the person responsible?" I ask.
"I'd like to find them first," Chance said, “but we want him found.”