by Linda Mackay
I gave up on the pictures, took two more beers from the fridge, and rejoined him on the porch. “Todd, Amanda and I are heading back to the Lake Yellowstone area soon. At least we’ll be taking my truck now that the roads are open for local use. I have to finish this grant contract, but I’m thinking about taking a leave of absence this winter after I report our research findings.”
“Really?” Mac stared at me until his gaze made me turn and look at the red hills on one side of the cabin and the huge, snow-capped mountains on the other.
“I’ve already told Todd and Amanda I may not be returning to Yellowstone next summer. I don’t have it in me to deal with the politics of being a government employee. Maybe I never will again.” A coyote barked in the distance. “I think I want to get better acquainted with my gifts.”
Mac turned the steaks over and listened to the coyote. “Do you know what he’s barking about?”
“Dinner.”
“That simple?”
I opened my beer. “Yes, sometimes, life is that simple.”
I looked around Sam’s cabin. Mac hadn’t changed it much. The main difference was his grandfather always kept his rifle on the dining table, now there were two laptops and a brand new TV still in the box. I wondered what kind of person had so few possessions. “Are you planning to head east when the snow flies?”
“I was.” Mac sat on the couch and put his feet up on his grandfather’s coffee table. “Now I’m considering giving the Wyoming winter a whirl.”
“You can only get in and out of the ranch on snow machines. And the solitude and extreme cold isn’t for the faint of heart.”
“Do you use the hot tub in your skivvies in the winter?” Mac asked.
“Sometimes we wear nothing at all.”
“Then I’m definitely staying.”
Epilogue
Come in.”
“There’s a development in Yellowstone.”
“Close the door.” The voice turned from soft and lyrical to one that instilled fear in everyone. “Now talk!”
“An agent at the FBI received photos, concrete samples, documentation about murders, downed Sikorsky…”
“Who sent them?”
“They arrived anonymously from Oregon.”
“Get me all the info you have on the agent and then get to Oregon.”
“What do you want to do about the samples and other information?”
“Obviously, you idiot, confiscate and destroy it before you leave for Oregon. Now get out of here and do your damn job.”
“Immediately, Madam President.”
THE END
Fault Line in the Sand
Book 2 in the Caldera Humorous Mystery Series
Available Early Summer 2018