The Bear Mountain Secret

by Gayle Siebert

  “What? Seriously? I’m gonna phone Danielson outta the blue, ask if his friends are coming and give him eight hundred dollars worth of tickets? Who says they’ll even take them?”

  “Don’t be a fuckin’ ass. No one passes up a gift like that. Make up something. Order more lumber for the Lodge. Work it into the conversation that way. Offer them two tickets for starters. When they say they have company that week-end, play the generous big shot you love to be and give them two more. For fuck’s sake, Briggs, do I have to do all your thinking for you?”

  “Maybe you doing the thinking isn’t all that good an idea, at least on this subject, Bearon. You want all four of them at the Lodge? Do you plan on taking all of them out?”

  “Leave the details to me.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Bearon, think about it! When it comes to this woman, you’re obsessed. It’s irrational. Can’t you see that? Just leave her alone.”

  Bearon’s nostrils flare as hot rage begins to surge through him. “I have my reasons,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

  “Well, you can’t grab her or whatever you’re planning, without anyone knowing and I hope the hell you’re not stupid enough to think you can. Which goes double if you think you can take both of them. What are you thinking, that when they show up for dinner, you can just hustle them into the Basement?”

  “You really think I don’t have a better plan than that?”

  “Naww, of course not. You’re smarter than that. I know it. It’s just that when it comes to this one thing, this woman… I know a little bit about her, you know, from before.”

  “As if I don’t! I was there, remember? They wanted her taken out.”

  “Sure, because they needed her out of the house. Even then, they were divided on eliminating her because she’s a civilian. Now you’re making the decision unilaterally and won’t explain why? As far as I can see, there’s nothing in it for anyone. I wasn’t happy about it before and now I really don’t like it. I have no idea why she went up there looking for Hank, but she gave up and came home. Why have you got such a hard-on about her? Are you really willing to put everything you’ve got at risk?”

  “There’s no risk.”

  “Whenever anyone is taken out, there’s a risk. And I think you’re so irrational when it comes to her—”

  “When’re you gonna quit selling me short?” Bearon snaps. “You know how treacherous the road from the Lodge to the highway can be even. Wouldn’t it be a tragedy if someone lost their brakes in one of the steep parts?” After this outburst, Bearon takes a deep breath and sits back. He realizes he had lost his cool and raised his voice. Damn it! Why does he always piss me off? Now I said more than I should have.

  But if Evan has more objections, he keeps them to himself. All Bearon hears is his breathing. Then Evan says, “I see you’ve got it handled. I’ll call Denver.”

  “Great. Keep me posted.” He clicks the off button on the handset and drops it. Groaning, he puts his hands on his desk and leans on his arms as he struggles to his feet.

  He hobbles to the door of his office and is surprised to see Kiersten standing in the hall with a steaming mug of coffee. She looks as startled to see him as he is to see her.

  “You’re up early,” he says, frowning as he studies her face.

  “I, uhh, not as early as you,” she says.

  “How long have you been standing here?”

  “I wasn’t, er, I just, er, I wasn’t just standing here. I was in the kitchen making coffee. And, um, when I didn’t hear your voice anymore I thought it was okay to bring you this.” She holds the mug out to him and makes eye contact briefly before looking away.

  Was she eavesdropping? If she was in the kitchen when he was on the phone, she was too far away to make out what was being said, wasn’t she? Then why is she nervous?

  When he realizes she always stutters and quakes when face to face with him, he relaxes. Such a timid little mouse. Even coming up on his old six foot four body-builder body naked except for the oversized towel draped across his shoulders would have made her shrink away. So what he looks like now…

  He takes her free hand and puts it on his penis; when it instantly begins to swell under her touch, he says, “Thank you, darlin’, that’s sweet of you. But I’ll drink it in the tub. Join me?”

  Twenty-nine

  Odd Little Duck

  ASTRID IS AT her desk going over the contract for a new lease. A big multi-national owns the property so naturally, the lease is an inch thick. Four hundred pages of convoluted legalese. Some in-house lawyer’s wet dream.

  Denver is out with their arborist now, getting a sense of the amount of merchantable timber it contains. He’s given the document a read-through and has highlighted a couple of clauses he wants to talk to her about when he gets back in the office.

  She’s been looking at it for so long now she barely sees it. She’ll tell Denver they need to have their own lawyer look at it. In any case, a coffee break is in order. She’s about to get up and go to the break room when Mary Ann sticks her head in the door.

  “Someone to see you, Astrid,” she says.

  “Oh? Who?”

  “Says her name’s Kiersten.”

  “Kiersten? Sure!” Astrid gets up and comes around the desk, out the door and down the hall into the main office.

  “Kiersten! Hi! Nice to see you! What brings you here?”

  “I, um, can we talk?”

  “Sure! Let’s get a coffee.”

  “I can’t stay that long.”

  “Oh? What is it?”

  “Er, see…um, can we talk somewhere private?”

  “Sounds ominous. Come to my office.”

  Kiersten follows Astrid back into her office. Once inside, she closes the door.

  Astrid goes around the desk and sits in her chair. “Have a seat,” she says, beckoning to a chair across from her.

  “Thanks.” Kiersten perches awkwardly on the edge of the chair.

  “What’s up?” Astrid asks.

  “I had to talk to you. I’m on my way to get groceries but I have to get right back. I can’t take more than a minute... good thing I have to drive by here anyway so I, er…it won’t make me late.”

  “You had to drive by here?”

  Kiersten ignores Astrid’s puzzled look and says, “you and your friends are booked in at the Lodge for dinner on Friday, right?”

  “Yeah. How’d you know that?”

  “I’m working there now.”

  “What? Really? We need to get together and catch up. Why haven’t you called me?”

  “Well, um, just busy, you know. At the Lodge. Just no time.”

  “Really? It’s that busy?”

  “Yeah. With the members starting to come in. And then the dinner coming up, lots to do, organizing everything and all.”

  “Well, I’m looking forward to it. I’ve been bragging about it to Kathy. Hey, Kathy’s coming. I bet she’d like to see you, too. She’s only going to be here for a few days, though. Maybe we can get together.”

  “Maybe. I’ll see if I can get some time off.”

  “Great.”

  “Why is Kathy here, though? Surely she didn’t come all this way just for dinner? Or did she just want to visit you?”

  “No. Her mother-in-law was murdered and they caught the guy here. Well, in Prince George. They’re going to give a victim impact statement at his sentencing hearing.”

  “Murdered! Oh my god!” The colour drains from Kiersten’s face.

  “I know. It’s hard to believe. They caught the guy, of course.”

  “Oh! Doesn’t make it better, but it’s something.”

  “Yeah. I don’t think Kathy’s going to say anything at the hearing, she’s just coming with Rick. It’s his mother, after all. But she’s still looking for her blood relatives and it seems like the owner of the Lodge might be a sibling or a cousin maybe. She hasn’t been able to get a name, and of course you know how hard it is to get into that place. Denver doesn
’t think she’d get past the gate if she just showed up and asked to speak to the manager. So she’s hoping to get a chance to talk to him at the dinner.”

  “I… If he’s there. He isn’t always there. She shouldn’t get her hopes up. He’s very, um, a really private sort of person.”

  “I’ll tell her.” Astrid says. “I sure hope it’s as good as last time. Same menu?”

  “No. Um. I don’t know. I wasn’t there last time. Astrid, what I came to tell you is, when you go to the Lodge for dinner, have someone take you there and then pick you up when you’re done.”

  “Oh, you’re worried about drinking and driving? Like maybe there’ll be a roadblock?”

  “No, it’s not that. Don’t just have a designated driver. Have someone drive you there and then come and get you. Don’t leave your vehicle there. And don’t tell anyone that’s what you’re going to do.”

  “But that seems…”

  “Please! Trust me on this. It’s really important! Say you will!”

  Astrid shrugs. Kiersten’s face is pinched with concern. “Okay,” Astrid agrees. “We’ll get someone to drive, like you say.”

  “Don’t tell anyone! Not anyone! And don’t tell anyone I was here!”

  “Okay! I won’t.”

  Kiersten blows out a huge breath. “Great! That’s a relief! I have to go. I’ll see you then.” She gets up and hurries out the office door.

  As Astrid watches her departing back, she mutters, “what is that all about?”

  As Kiersten goes out, Denver is coming in. He holds the door open for her and steps aside, then greets everyone as he comes through the office. When he gets to Astrid’s office, he asks, “who was that?”

  “Kiersten. Oh, you never met her, did you?”

  “That was Kiersten? What did she want?”

  “It was strange,” Astrid says as she gets to her feet. “Come on, I was just going to get a coffee and I know you can always use one.”

  In the break room, they fill their mugs and sit across from each other at the table. “Have you had a chance to go over that lease contract yet?” Denver wants to know.

  “Yes, but I’ve read through it so many times this morning I don’t even see it anymore. We need Drew to look at it. I was just going to call him and then take a break when Kiersten breezed in. Well, breezed in and out.”

  “You didn’t invite her for coffee?”

  “She said she didn’t have time. Then she warned me not to drive to the dinner on Friday. Or rather, to get someone to take us and then pick us up after.”

  “That would save one of us having to drink ginger ale while everyone else gets shitfaced.”

  “She said not a designated driver. Someone else entirely. She was really adamant about it. I promised her we would. I thought maybe Wilson could drive us. He might enjoy having Dora Mae around for the evening and she could stay with the kids when he’s driving us. Or I guess, a cab?”

  “A cab ride would cost more than the meal. Why would we do that? We’d be better off getting on that shuttle bus Danny Hardy got organized.” Denver unzips his jacket and takes a swig of his coffee. “You might not have met him. Owen Hardy’s son?”

  “I’ve seen his name on the payroll but I haven’t met him,” Astrid says. “We could do that, couldn’t we! We wouldn’t have to drive all the way into town to get on it if he’d make a stop at our place. I bet he wouldn’t mind. It’s not out of his way.”

  “You know, that’s probably a helluva good idea anyway. Can you get me his phone number?”

  “Get Mary Ann to text it to you.”

  “Okay.” Denver sips his coffee, then says, “that Kiersten. I don’t know what to make of her. First she says she thinks there’s something to the rumours about the new Lodge being just like the old Lodge. Now we shouldn’t drive up there?”

  “But maybe she’s right. Both times she seemed scared. Not just scared, terrified. She begged me not to tell anyone. I really don’t know what to make of it.”

  “Ay-yuh, me neither.”

  “She could be right, though. What if she’s involved somehow, like against her will?”

  “Then she’d ask for help, wouldn’t she?”

  “Maybe not, though. Maybe they’re holding something over her.”

  “Like maybe they’ve kidnapped her kid?”

  “No, it couldn’t be that. When I asked her if she had kids, she said she got a cat when she moved in with her boyfriend.”

  “Then maybe they’ve kidnapped her cat.”

  “Not funny, Denver!”

  “Sorry.”

  “Or—you’ve heard of Stockholm Syndrome?”

  “Or maybe she’s just a total wing nut.”

  “You said you believed her before.”

  “Yeah, I guess I did. Now that she’s come up with this other nonsense… Something else to get you all worked up again…”

  “It might not be nonsense!” Astrid’s forehead creases in a frown and her lower lip quivers.

  Just then, John comes in and goes to the coffee machine.

  Denver reaches across the table and takes Astrid’s hand. “Sorry, babe,” he says in an almost whisper, “I don’t mean to make small of your, er, concerns. We’ll pay attention to her warning just to be on the safe side. But you have to admit, she is sure an odd little duck.”

  As John joins them at the table, Denver says, “that new lease looks promising. Lots of good Doug fir, and quite a bit of Western Red.”

  “We should meet with the Chilcotin elders to arrange access for them to harvest cedar bark, roots, whatever, then,” John says.

  “I’ll get you to set that up once we get the lease signed,” Denver says. He gives Astrid’s hand a final rub before finishing his coffee and taking his cup to the sink.

  Thirty

  New Society

  KEVIN PULLS INTO the lot at Cherry Creek Bar and Grille just before three p.m. and spots Clint’s Porsche. It’s hard to miss, being unusual even in bigger cities, and then there’s the fact he always parks away from the other cars and diagonally across two spaces. Good thing the Cherry isn’t busy at this time of day or there would be complaints.

  He goes to the pub entrance, pulls the door open, and once inside, scans the room. For a second he thinks Clint must not be here, even though it’s unlikely someone else has a car the same as his. When he realizes the man at the corner table in the raised section at the back is waving at him, he heads his way.

  “Hey,” he says as he slides into the booth across from the bigger man. “Almost didn’t recognize you. Where’s your glasses?”

  “Lasix.”

  “Short hair and a beard? How come?”

  “Just decided to update my look. More 2020, less 1990. You know. Blend in better.”

  “Oh? I suppose.”

  “You know what they say, a change is as good as a rest. Check out my new watch.” He holds out his wrist to show him. “Good-bye Rolex, hello Apple Watch.”

  The server comes up and asks Kevin, “what can I get you?”

  “Umm, what’s on tap?”

  She rattles off five possibilities. When Kevin has made his choice, Clint lifts his glass in her direction and says, “another one of these for me.”

  “You got it, hon,” she says, and scurries off.

  “She’s cute,” Clint says as he watches her stop at another table and bend across it to wipe a spill. “Too bad that skirt’s not an inch shorter.”

  “Yeah. I guess you’re officially single now.”

  Clint scowls at him, swirls the last of the beer in his glass, then drinks it.

  “About Kiersten. I was wondering what you think about Bearon moving her up to live with him.”

  “What do you think I think?” Clint snarls, eyes narrowing.

  “I think you’re pissed off about it.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “Sure.”

  “So why do you ask?”

  The server comes back and sets their fresh pints in f
ront of them. Clint puts a twenty on her tray and says, “I don’t need change.”

  “Thanks!” she says with a wide smile, and leaves again.

  “I just wanted to—well, it’s a little awkward. I wanted to be sure. Because you’re not the only one pissed at Bearon.”

  “Well, that’s just ducky. So I’m not the only one pissed at him. What’s this? The first ever meeting of the Pissed at Bearon Society? I’d go for a beer with you, Kevin. No need to skulk around about it.”

  “Yeah, well, there is a need to skulk. No one else can know about it.”

  Clint frowns and sits up straighter.

  “That’s right, buddy. Besides you and me, the Pillerton people aren’t happy with him, either.”

  “What? Why?”

  “They think Bearon’s gone off the rails. I doubt Evan told me what the real problem with him is, but it sounds like this hit he put out on that woman who was looking for Hank is the last straw. Bad enough if it went without a hitch, but you know about the, er, collateral damage. And Trent’s lucky the bikers didn’t kill him.”

  “What? Just because he buggered off without paying them for an old piece of shit truck?”

  “Not just that. He knows too much about their operation. You know how they deal with rats. Of course the Big Guys are worried about him yapping, too. Could solve that getting rid of Trent—no, no no! I didn’t say that was going to happen!—but that’s not enough for them. They tapped me to do something about Bearon.”

  “You? Why you?”

  “I don’t know. Nearest I can figure is that it’s a kind of test. Initiation, maybe, since they discontinued that finger amputation thing.”

  “Thank fuckin’ Christ for that!”

  “Why do you care? Thinkin’ you could move up?”

  Clint shrugs. There’s a lull in the conversation; Kevin slouches, one arm over the back of his chair, and scans the room while he waits for Clint to say more. Finally, Clint asks, “what are you going to do?”