It was a lot darker than when Alison and I had been here. The moon was nearly full, and our eyes had adjusted to the darkness, so we could see a little, but not any detail and not very far.
Either John or Jason flashed a light twice toward the lake, and I saw a single flash return from a boat at the dock. I could barely make out two boats parked there. One of them was probably the rangers’ boat that I had seen before, and I assumed that the other boat was there to meet us. I didn’t want to get on a boat with these killers. They hadn’t taken us out in the deep woods for whatever reason, but I knew it had to be coming soon. I figured that this was my last chance to do what I came here for.
I lowered my pack and took out my camera. I also took out my flash and mounted it and turned it on. It made a small whistle as it charged the light, and I cringed, certain that someone would hear it.
“What are you doing back there?” It was John’s voice, though it was hard to make out who was looking at me and who wasn’t.
“Just getting Christopher his sleeping bag,” I replied, untying his bag from my pack.
“Don’t worry about that now,” John said. “Just get over here.”
I put my pack back on and picked up Christopher’s sleeping bag, holding it in front of my camera.
I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to focus my shots, so when I had mounted the flash, I turned the focus ring on my lens to infinity, then turned it back about a half inch. I had used this lens a lot, and I knew that this should give me a decent focus range of about ten to twenty feet.
My heart was thumping so hard I could hear it, but I told myself that I would have a few seconds of surprise working in my favor, and I knew that I could run fast.
I was gripping my camera really hard as I walked past John. When I was midway between him and Jason, I dropped the sleeping bag and squeezed off a quick shot at John.
I had one eye on the display on the back of my camera, so I could see John’s face light up in the flash in the center of the frame. I quickly turned toward Jason, hoping that he would have turned around toward me as a reaction to the flash, and he did.
I snapped another shot and saw that I got both Jason and the boat driver’s faces in the picture; then I took off running for all I was worth.
I sprinted away from the group and turned onto the trail. John was a lot quicker than I expected, and he ran at an angle to cut me off. There really wasn’t any place for me to go around him, so I just ran as hard as I could.
John took a dive at me and caught my ankle. I went down but jumped right back up and kept heading forward.
I couldn’t really see where I was going and was afraid that I might run into a tree, so I stuck my left arm out in front of me while I tucked my camera up against my chest. I felt like a linebacker trying to break through the opposing front line.
I tripped on something and went down again. My face hit the ground hard, and it stunned me for an instant. Everybody was yelling behind me, and I could hear someone really close, so I jumped to the side and headed into the woods.
“He’s over here,” somebody yelled.
I tried to run in a straight line away from the trail, but the trees were really working against me. I lost most of my speed, and I had to keep turning to my right, back toward the lake. Opposite the direction I really wanted to go.
I stopped for a couple seconds to get my bearings. There seemed to be a clear route that angled back to the ranger station, and I took it. I was still running toward the lake, but I thought I could stay ahead of all the people chasing me.
I made it to the station and barely slowed down. I threw my fist at the glass window in the door and smashed through it all the way to my elbow. I quickly unlocked the door from the inside and went in. I ran straight to the wall where I remembered seeing a big red and white plastic key fob hanging earlier and snatched what I hoped was the key to the rangers’ boat.
I heard the others right outside, so I ran back to the wall right beside the door.
As the first person entered, I stuck out my foot and gave him a shove. He went down, and I ran out the door toward the dock.
“Give me that camera,” John’s voice said from my right. He dove and stripped it out of my hand. I didn’t have time to fight him for it. I ran down the dock and jumped into the rangers’ boat.
I stuck the key into the ignition switch and turned it. I don’t know anything about boats, but the motor jumped to life. I hit the throttle lever, and the boat shot forward.
About one foot. The stupid boat was still tied to the dock.
I jumped over and unwrapped the rope from the metal thingy on the dock, and I looked back to see another rope from the back of the boat come out of Christopher’s hand.
I had the throttle lever all the way forward, but I didn’t seem to be going very fast. I guess the National Park Service wasn’t really in need of a speedboat.
I heard another boat motor kick on and quickly rev up. It sounded a lot faster than my boat. I heard a gunshot followed by a whiz past my ear. I ducked down below the seat and held the steering wheel in place blindly. I was aimed at the middle of the lake. I didn’t need to see where I was going.
Out on the lake there weren’t any trees overhead, so I could see a lot better in the moonlight. There was a box in front of my face mounted to the dashboard of the boat. The cover said Flare Gun. I opened the latch and pulled out an oversized pistol and what looked like a shotgun shell.
I put my shoulder against the steering wheel to keep the boat straight while I figured out how to load the flare gun.
A bullet went through the windshield one foot in front of my face, and I jerked back against the seat. The boat began turning to the left.
I snapped the flare gun shut and hoped I had loaded it right because the other boat was right beside mine now, and Jason was ready to jump onto my boat.
I aimed the flare gun at Jason’s chest and pulled the trigger. The gun kicked hard, and I saw Jason get knocked backward. The flare bounce right off his chest and onto the floor of their boat.
The driver aimed a pistol at me, so I dove onto the steering wheel and turned it to the right as far as I could.
I hung onto the seat as the boat made a U-turn. I looked back over my shoulder and saw an intensely bright explosion as the flare went off.
The boat suddenly veered off to the left and at least one person jumped into the water.
I slowed down and steered a wide curve around the boat while I watched the festivities. A fire had broken out on board in addition to the flare. Suddenly, a huge explosion lit up the night and pounded my eardrums. Little pieces of boat flew everywhere.
I ducked down beside the seat and covered my head. I heard lots of things hitting the water and risked a peek over the side of the boat. There was a fire floating on the water, and lots of debris. I saw what looked like a couple people splashing, and I headed that direction.
I pulled up to the nearest person in the water and cut back the throttle all the way. It looked like Christopher, but I wasn’t sure.
I said earlier that I don’t know anything about boats. Well, one thing I learned that night was that they keep coasting after you shut off the gas. I heard a clunk as the boat slid sideways right over top of the head that was bobbing in the water. I ran to the other side of the boat and reached down and grabbed Christopher’s collar. I could tell now that it was him.
I pulled him up and he grabbed the edge of the boat. Then I reached down farther and grabbed his belt and pulled again, hoping that the boat wouldn’t capsize. As soon and he rolled in over the edge, I hit the throttle.
I didn’t see anyone else in the water, and to be honest, I didn’t look all that hard. I might not have rescued them anyway. I headed back for the dock and turned my attention to Christopher. He was crawling toward the other seat, coughing and hacking his head off. I had heard that as long as someone is coughing, you should let them go. Eventually, they cough out whatever is obstructing their windpipe. It’s
when they stop coughing that you need to intervene.
Christopher leaned on the seat, still coughing and spitting up some water. I also saw that he was shivering uncontrollably. He paused in his coughing and raised his head.
He climbed up into the seat and said through chattering teeth, “That’s the second time on this trip that you saved my life.”
I didn’t point out that I was the one who caused the explosion in the first place.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Back to the dock.”
“No. Take me to Waterton?”
His shivering seemed to be getting worse.
“There will be a ranger at the dock,” I said. “Maybe not till tomorrow, though.”
“I’d rather not meet a ranger.”
I saw his point.
“I untied your boat for you,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
He took a deep breath, coughed some more, and spoke slowly. “I saw you look around when you took off in the boat. Didn’t you see me?”
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t you see me let go of the rope? I untied it from the dock.”
Now it hit me. That’s exactly what I saw. “Why’d you do it?”
“I don’t know what your deal is, but you saved me at a big risk to yourself when I slipped off that mountaintop.”
I nodded my head. “Yeah, I can take you to Waterton.”
15
Prince Of Wales
The lights of Waterton made a great beacon for a first-time boater, and I aimed for the same dock where Alison and I got on the tour boat. The end of it didn’t have any boats parked there, so I lined up to go straight in.
I cut back on the throttle and cut the wheel at the last minute so we would go in sideways. It didn’t work that well. I still hit the front end of the boat against the dock pretty hard. I goosed the throttle a little, and that put the side of the boat up against the dock better.
Christopher jumped out and grabbed the rope at the front of the boat and pulled us over to one of those tie-up thingies again. I really need to learn what those are called. Christopher seemed to know what he was doing, though, so I wasn’t really worried about that right at the time.
I shut off the key and put it in my pocket, and put on my camera pack. I stepped around the windshield to the front of the boat, gave a tug on the rope to pull myself up against the dock, and stepped out of the boat.
“Why’d you come to this dock?” Christopher asked.
“We need to warm you up,” I replied. I didn’t add that this was the only dock in Waterton that I knew.
I had to help Christopher walk up to the lodge. His energy was totally drained, and he was limping on his ankle worse than ever. We walked in the front door, and I was glad to see that no one was standing behind the reception desk.
I aimed Christopher toward the big fireplace and dragged a chair over very close to the fire for him.
“Wait here,” I said.
I found the bar and saw I could get some hot chocolate. I bought bought two cups and added a healthy scoop of marshmallows. I gave one to Christopher and stood silently next to him while we both drank them.
After he finished his, Christopher stood up and turned his back to the fire. “Thanks, man. That’s just what I needed.”
I noticed that he wasn’t shivering now.
“Where do you go now?” I asked.
“Home. Without my trophy. And without my gun and all my stuff.”
“But where is that? Where are you from?”
“Moose Jaw. It’s in Saskatchewan.”
“What do you do there?”
Christopher’s expression changed. “Why are you asking?”
I held up an open palm. “Just curious. You don’t have to answer. How are you getting home?
“My truck’s parked by another dock. I need to get over to it. You mind giving me one more ride on that boat?”
Crap. I didn’t see this conversation going there. I was trying to get some more information out of him to give to Burd, but I couldn’t just leave the guy stranded here.
“Where’s the dock at?” I asked him. “How do you get there from here?”
“You went right past it. It’s just a little piece back. My brain was still frozen, or I’d have told you to take me there then.”
I helped him walk back down to the dock. After standing in front of the fire, it felt especially cold outside, and I really didn’t want to go back onto the water—especially with this guy, who seemed to be getting a little suspicious of me. I was in a safe place now, and there was no good reason for me to leave it.
“Hey,” I said, “would you mind taking the boat there yourself? You seem to know more about boats than I do, anyway.”
I held the key out to him.
He hesitated, and I said, “I don’t need the boat back, and I think I’m actually going to spend the night here.”
“Oh. Okay. Gotcha,” he said, and took the key.
He pulled the boat over by the rope that held it to the dock, unwrapped the rope, and stepped aboard.
He started the engine and said to me, “Push me off?”
I put my foot on the front point of the boat, and gave it a slow shove. Christopher eased on the gas and drove away.
Knowing there was nothing I could do about Jack being gone, I spent all day in the hotel room pacing and trying to write my article. It was tough to focus on it because I knew Jack was in big trouble, and I had this ugly room reminding me that I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
Okay, that’s not fair. The room isn’t ugly. I’m just upset. Although they could stand to update their carpet.
The good news is that I got my article ready to submit—all but the pictures, which were on Jack’s computer. I could have looked for them myself on there, but I wouldn’t dare do that. Jack was coming back, and he would give me my pictures then.
I took a shower and turned on the TV before I went to bed. I was on my third round cycling through all the channels looking for something pleasant to distract me when my phone rang. I snatched it up right away.
“Where are you! Are you okay?”
“Oh, it feels so good to hear your voice,” Jack said.
“Don’t you get sarcastic with me,” I said. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Agent Burd is worried, too. He said you never should have gone on that trip.”
“Well, of course not, it was illegal. And I’m not being sarcastic. It really does feel good to hear you. I’ve just spent two days with people who tried to kill me, and I watched a beautiful, innocent mountain goat get butchered right in front of me. I’m ready to go home.”
“Where are you now? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I am now. I’m at the Waterton lodge—what’s it called? The Prince of Wales Hotel.”
“How did you get there?” I asked.
“It’s a long story. I just called Burd, and he’s coming up here in the morning. I asked him to bring you along, but he sounded like he didn’t want to go out of his way. He said he’d think about it.”
“I’ll call him,” I said. “I’ll come along. Are you staying there tonight?”
“If they have a room,” I said.
“You mean you don’t even know if they have a room for you or not?”
“Well it’s not like I had a reservation or anything, and I wanted to call you right away.”
“That’s sweet. Now go see if they have a room, and call me back when you get one, wherever it is. I want to know where you are.”
Agent Burd picked me up at seven o’clock in the morning. He had another man with him who he introduced as Captain Chuck Stewart of the United States Park Police, Criminal Investigations Branch. I told Captain Stewart what had happened to Jack and me since we arrived. Agent Burd had already heard all this, and probably Captain Stewart had too, from Burd, but it made me feel like I was helping somehow.
This case was already important to them, but it had no
w become the highest priority in the branch. Detective Runyan’s death—if that was indeed who Jack saw buried—would be their first officer killed in the line of duty in five years.
We breezed through the Customs station, and continued to Waterton. I told Agent Burd that Jack had to get a room at a different place in town and he had given me the address.
We found Jack’s motel and went to his room. He would have been much happier in the lodge.
The sink was outside the bathroom and didn’t even have a mirror. The nearest light was a floor lamp on the other side of the bed. How could anybody get ready in the morning?
“You actually spent the night here?”
“Is there somewhere around here we can talk better?” Burd asked.
The only furniture in this room was one chair and the bed.
“Why don’t we go to the Prince of Wales?” I said. “There’s plenty of room there, and much better lighting.”
“This will do,” Stewart said. “Tell me what happened.”
It took Jack an hour to tell his story, with Captain Stewart asking lots of questions and taking lots of notes.
When Jack got to the part where the boat exploded, Stewart said, “I’ll get a team to the explosion site ASAP. It’s a shame that all your pictures were lost. Those would have been invaluable.”
That was when Jack stood up from the bed where he’d been sitting all this time and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a little black rectangular thing and tossed it to Captain Stewart.
“What’s that?” Stewart asked.
“The SD card from my camera. I popped it out when I was in the woods. All my photos are on there.”
16
A Great Epitath
After what felt like a month away, I was finally back home in my kitchen—the place I feel most comfortable. Jack was sitting at the table while I was cooking a pot of chili and lamenting about the trouble I was in at the Weekly, the only source of regular income that I have.
Goats, Boats, and Killer Cutthroats Page 11