The Bear Mountain Secret

by Gayle Siebert

  “Passmore.”

  “Before Passmore gets worried.”

  “Why don’t we have one of our members in that position, Wally?” Kevin asks.

  “You think of someone suitable, let me know,” Wally says.

  “Doesn’t matter. Besides Passmore,” Bearon continues, “we also have to expect the woman to show up wanting her room, or to check out or something. The two of them were friendly enough to have coffee together a couple of times. She’ll be wanting to know where Kiersten is, too. She’ll ask Passmore, so he has to know she’s okay. Best thing is if she’s back at the desk. The problem is, how do we make sure this doesn’t land on us.”

  “On you, you mean, land on you,” Kevin says. “If this was, er, a company project we would’ve known about it before now. This ‘need to know’ policy of yours is starting to piss me off.”

  “God save me from fuckin’ lawyers!” Bearon exclaims. “It’s for your own good. All of you. The less you know, the better. That way…”

  “Yeah, yeah, we know,” Kevin interrupts. “If something goes wrong and the cops question one of us, yadda yadda. Okay. Does she know where she is? Did she see you? Did she see anything? Would she know where she’s been, like your place and the Lodge?”

  “No. She was blindfolded when she was being transferred in and out of the van. She never saw where they were or the guys’ faces, neither, just big scary guys with balaclavas.”

  Like you, Kevin thinks. He says, “okay, then, take her somewhere and let her go.”

  “She’s gonna report it, for sure, and she saw Trent’s face. He doesn’t think she recognized him, but she saw enough she could give a description. Plus he’s got a record. She could I.D. him outta a photo array. And he mighta left prints.”

  “So she picks him outta a photo array, that’s not enough to stick. But prints? Even Trent’s not stupid enough to go in without gloves,” Preacher says, scratching his goatee. “Everyone’s seen enough CSI to know better than that.”

  “Preacher’s right,” Kevin agrees. “Take her somewhere that she’ll be found, and let her go.”

  “I doubt he had gloves,” Clint tells them.

  “What? Why wouldn’t he?” Kevin asks. “Didn’t he learn anything when he was inside?”

  “He wasn’t expecting anyone to find out.”

  “Not find out? The person missing their things is bound to notice.”

  “Well…”

  “Aaaannd the plot sickens,” Kevin says. “You better bring us fully into the picture, Bearon.”

  Bearon takes a few deep breaths, looks around the table, and says, “Clint was gonna grab the woman at Dot’s but he missed her. So when she got back to her room and found it emptied out, she called the cops.”

  “Like father, like son,” Preacher says, glaring at Clint. “Fuck-ups. I just hope the fuck they didn’t wreck the door. Last time it was a thousand dollar repair. You’re gonna get the bill.”

  Clint’s nostrils flare and his body stiffens. He says, “forget your fuckin’ door! We had a plan that would’ve worked like a charm. She’s a skittish little minx and wouldn’t get out of the car. Wouldn’t even roll down the window.”

  “Oh? Not such a great plan, then. I guess you should’ve waited until she was out of the car before you tried to jump her,” Preacher says. “Like I said. A couple of first-rate fuck-ups.”

  “You think you could do better?” Clint snarls.

  “Everyone’s got twenty-twenty hindsight. No use blaming blame, it’s done,” Bearon growls. “Clint’s right. You wanna take over Clint’s job, give it a try.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Brent interjects. “We all know it’s not a job for Preacher. But what do you mean, grab her? What the fuck? We agreed not to take anyone from around here.”

  “That’s right, we did,” Kevin says.

  “True. But this bitch shows up outta nowhere, sayin’ she’s Hank Hazen’s daughter. Claims she’s the rightful heir to his estate,” Bearon explains. “It’s a shakedown. Any of you think we should go along with that?”

  “She’d have to prove it. Could take years,” Kevin points out. “How does she have a claim against the estate? It was settled years ago and the probate lawyers would’ve contacted beneficiaries then. What cause could she have to challenge the will?” His eyes narrow as he frowns at Bearon. “Does she have something on you personally, Bearon? If she can actually make trouble, the logical course would be to pay her off. Why the fuck would you think it was a good idea to kidnap her? That’s just guaranteed to bring heat down on us! You want cops swarming all over the Lodge?”

  “She doesn’t have nuthin’ on me,” Bearon scowls. “What could she possibly have on me? And no one would connect her disappearance to the Lodge. If the cops swarmed all over it as you suggest, they wouldn’t find nuthin’. I don’t want to give her nuthin’, that’s all. Pay her now, she’ll keep coming back for more. You guys know that.”

  “What were you planning to do with her?” Brent asks.

  “Take her to the Lodge.”

  “And keep her there, like forever?”

  “Sure. Why not? We could take her into the congregation. She might even become a True Believer. Or, she’s cute for her age. We could ship her with the next lot. End of problem, and it not only costs us nuthin’, but makes us a few bucks as well. Didn’t think I had to run this stuff past you guys. This is just business.”

  “I don’t agree, but putting that aside for a moment, why are you telling us now?” Kevin asks.

  “Whether you agree or not, she sprung the trap. So it’s more complicated now. She has no way of knowing we’re connected to her room being emptied, so we can still see about negotiating a settlement with her, if that’s what we decide to do. That’s why I wanted to talk you guys. I don’t want to spend Lodge money without you guys agreeing.”

  “How much are you thinking of? Whatever you have in mind, it’s not gonna be chump change. We’ll need positive cash flow first and that won’t happen until we’ve got a few more deals behind us,” Evan says. “We’ve had a few sales, but we’re in a bit of a negative cash flow situation right now.”

  “If you’re all so anxious to pay her instead of just eliminating the problem, maybe we give her a percentage of the profits. And then the Lodge doesn’t turn a profit? That might work, but think about it. She’d be entitled to snoop around and I’m sure all of you can agree no good could come of that!”

  “She could snoop around forever and she’d never find the Basement any more than the cops would. No one would.”

  Bearon scratches his nose and then gives his head a brief shake. “Anyhow, that’s not our problem right now. Kiersten is.”

  “She can go to the Lodge,” Evan suggests. “If this other woman you’re talking about could stay there, Kiersten can too.”

  “Kiersten attends services. She’s already a Believer. Why don’t we just bump her up to True Believer status and tell her we need to protect her boyfriend’s asshole son. Don’t want him to go back inside, he’s one of our own, he made a mistake, he’s young, blah blah,” Preacher suggests

  “Doubt she’d care about that, since she was kidnapped,” Kevin opines. “That trumps a few years in jail. Any sane person would think he deserves to go back inside.”

  “Give her some added incentive, then,” Brent suggests. “Like maybe her boyfriend disappears if she talks.”

  “Maybe the True Believer status is the better way to go. Make her an Acolyte, even,” Kevin suggests. “We need one anyway.”

  “She hasn’t even been to a Communion Ceremony yet and she’s never fucked no one but Clint so far.” Bearon turns to Clint and asks, “you think she’s ready?”

  All eyes are on Clint as he blows out a breath, shakes his head and says, “I doubt it.”

  “Why haven’t you brought her into the fucking pool, Clint? You been balls deep in her plenty of times now. Time to share the wealth.”

  “I know, but she’s so naïve. And she thi
nks we’re, like, exclusive. You know we’ve only been to Sunday services a few times. Dunno if she’s into it enough that she’d go if I didn’t take her. Didn’t think there was any hurry.”

  “Yeah, you know, I’ve been wondering why you brought her up here in the first place,” Preacher interrupts. “Was it dark when you picked her up?”

  “Whaddya mean?”

  “Well, you have to admit she’s nothin’ to look at. Skinny. Kinda plain.”

  “You think she’s plain just because she’s not blonde? You wanna fuck a fat gash with bleach blonde hair and big sagging tits, go fuck Annie,” Clint snarls.

  “All right, all right! Let’s not get off task,” Bearon says. Clint’s emotional outburst in defence of Kiersten has given him an idea. “About Kiersten—”

  “Kiersten’s not the only problem,” Kevin cuts in. “We have to get rid of Trent.”

  “Whaddaya mean, get rid of Trent?” Clint demands.

  “Relax, Clint,” Kevin says. “I’m not suggesting a permanent solution. But think about it. Just convincing Kiersten not to charge him, even if we could, isn’t enough. Sooner or later she’ll recognize him. Even if she doesn’t press charges, by now the cops’ve gone over the room, they’ll have his prints, they’ll get him for the B and E and he’ll go back to finish his sentence, with something tacked on for this.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good point. And I don’t trust him not to sing. Might think he can trade information for a deal. He has to disappear,” Bearon says. As he drums his fingers on the table he makes a mental note of Kevin interrupting him, and that when he looks at him, although he can’t control the look of distaste on his face, he doesn’t look away. Kevin has criticized the balaclava several times. It’s tempting to pull it off and see what kind of face he makes then! He stows the thought and says, “send him to the Lodge, Clint, and keep him there. Evan can take him to Pillerton with him. How soon are you leaving, Evan? You’re pretty well done here, right?”

  “Right. I don’t have to be here full time now. I’m going back right after Communion.”

  “Good. Get him some new ID and he goes to live in Pillerton. Make sure he knows the consequences if he doesn’t stay there.”

  “And Kiersten?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I have an idea. Clint brought her here in the first place and she thinks he’s her boyfriend. Now he can be her hero and rescue her.” He turns to Clint and says, “I’ll fill you in on the details later, Clint. We got other business to discuss. Go wait downstairs.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  RICK WALKS INTO the airport terminal and has no trouble spotting the man he’s meeting. There aren’t a lot of people waiting for passengers, and he’s the only one in a cowboy hat.

  “You must be Denver,” he says as they shake hands.

  “And you must be Rick,” Denver says. “Glad to meet you. I’m surprised you could get here so fast.”

  “It was a near thing, I got the plane with ten minutes to spare. Only two flights a week, Regina to Dark River. Lucky Kathy called when she did or I’d have missed it. She said I didn’t have to come. Lousy timing, we’re harvesting lentils right now, problems with the swather. You know how it goes.”

  “Ay-yuh, been there myself.”

  “Thought so. Anyway, I told her to come home. She would’ve had to get on the flight I just came on, but I guess the cops still need her here.”

  “Yeah, the cops want her to come in to give a statement, although it might’ve been possible to do that over the phone. She was pretty shaken up this morning, so when the cop said she could do it tomorrow, we thought we’d take her home with us, give her time to settle down. Didn’t even think about her going straight home. And she’s hoping to get her things back. Mostly her pendant. Said she forgot to put it on this morning and she’s cursing herself for taking it off last night.”

  “Yeah, well, she always does, it’s pretty heavy. I guess it’s probably gone for good even if the cops find the rest of her things.”

  “Unfortunate. Sounds pretty unique.” Denver turns to scan the arrivals area. There are a few people at the conveyor waiting for the baggage cart. “Do we need to wait for a suitcase?”

  “Nope, I’ve just got this carry-on. Mostly full of Kathy’s clothes. Hope I brought the right stuff.”

  Denver chuckles. “What’re chances of that?”

  “Slim to none.”

  They exchange a knowing nod, then walk outside into the late afternoon sun and head for Denver’s truck.

  “Well, your wife will be real happy you’re here, whatever she might’ve told you. It’s been a shock for her. For Astrid, too. The robbery was bad enough, but the hotel clerk going missing…” He lets out a long breath.

  “Astrid knew her?”

  “No, but she, umm, had a similar experience to Kathy’s, not this robbery but from before. She was abducted too. She doesn’t want me tellin’ people, so don’t let on I said anything and for god’s sake don’t tell Kathy I know some of what happened to her! I’m just tellin’ you so you understand. This missing woman—well, it must stir up bad memories, for both of them.”

  “You know about Kathy? What happened to her?”

  “She talked about it a little. Just to Astrid, and in confidence. Astrid hasn’t blabbed to me, just told me they’ve had similar experiences. They haven’t had a chance to compare notes yet, but if they spend more time together, they might tell each other everything. Astrid still has trouble talking about what happened to her. Quit going to counselling. Says it’s was too gut-wrenching to keep going over it. I think it might be good for the two of them, you know, talking to someone who’s had the same experience. Their own support group of two.”

  As they approach the truck, Denver clicks the remote to unlock the doors. Rick tosses his suitcase in the back seat, and both men climb in.

  Once they’re underway, Denver picks up the thread of the conversation. “I’m glad she’s gonna stay, you guys are gonna stay, at least for a bit, for selfish reasons. I’m hopin’ talkin’ to your wife will help Astrid.”

  “Kathy doesn’t talk about her experience, either. She’s only told me tiny bits. It comes out in dribs and drabs. She’s been in counselling, too, but doesn’t go often anymore.”

  “I went with Astrid to a couple of sessions. PTSS, Dr. Malone says. Used to be PTSD but they call it a syndrome instead of a disorder these days. Apparently it can take years to get over. Can change personalities, sometimes so much it’s like they’re a different person. I wouldn’t say Astrid is completely different, but I’d sure like to have the old one back.”

  “Kathy’s definitely changed,” Rick tells him. “She was always shy, but now she never wants to go anywhere.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Talk about paranoid.”

  Denver frowns and gives him a quick sideways glance.

  “Then,” Rick continues, “if someone pisses her off, it’s like a switch flips and she turns into a pit bull. But that’s unusual. I’m amazed she came here, knowing she would have to talk to strange men. In all honesty, I didn’t think she should’ve come.”

  “Hmmm. Well, it must’ve seemed like a wild goose chase, but it looks like she’d be a fine detective. She found us, after all. And Astrid’s anxious about anything out of her routine, too. She used to love running the trails through the forest and now even taking the trail from our place to the other property, where our barn is, un-nerves her. She runs on the treadmill instead. Must be awful.” He shakes his head. “I’m beginning to think she’s never going to get over it.”

  “Yeah. I worry about that, too. It’s no way to live.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  KATHY AND ASTRID ARE on the patio behind the log house, enjoying the last of the day’s sunshine. Documents overflow the box on the concrete next to the empty one. A large, very furry black dog and a smaller black and white one are sprawled out, sleeping in the shade under their chairs.

  “Nothing here. Looks like we need to get t
he next box,” Astrid observes. She tosses a bundle of time cards on the discard pile. “Maybe that’s enough for tonight, though. These are all starting to look the same.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a long day.”

  “A long, stressful day.”

  “For sure. I’m not at my best by this time of day anyway. Plus, the wine!” Kathy says. She leans back in her chair and stretches. She scans the house, two stories with a wide balcony the full length of the second story overhanging the patio. “Your house is awesome! How on earth do they build with those big logs?”

  “There’s a company in town that specializes in it. They use a crane. Heather’s House, the women’s shelter next door where our barn is, it’s a log house, too, and about twice as big. That’s where Hazens lived, and of course I lived there too when I was working for them. I wasn’t sure we should do log, but Denver likes it. It suits the property, and of course we have lots of our own logs.”

  “It really does suit the property. Sure is different than home! There’s a shelter belt around the old yard with decent-sized trees, but when we built the new house, Rick’s house, behind the old yard, we had to plant our own trees and they’re still pretty small. Nothing like this!” She waves at the old growth forest that surrounds them. “It’s Rick’s family’s farm. They’ve owned it for about a hundred years, bald ass open prairie so flat you can see the Blue Hills about, I don’t know, a couple hundred kilometers away. His mother still lives in the old farmhouse.”

  “A hundred year family farm! Do you grow grain or raise cattle?”

  “In the beginning the Schoenfelds did both but we sold the cattle a few years ago. Just have a couple of old cows now and we grow hay mostly, and some lentils. Sometimes canola. The family farm has almost gone the way of the dinosaur. We’re surrounded by huge corporate farms. The old farmhouses are abandoned. Sometimes I think we should do likewise. Well, we’d keep the home quarter and sell the rest.”

  “Denver’s family were ranchers. Like Rick, he was third or fourth generation on that ranch. But he didn’t really like the cattle business. It’s one reason he was happy to sell the family ranch. Now we just raise a few horses. The mill keeps us plenty busy.”