The Dinosaur Hunter

by Homer Hickam

  Mary gave that some thought, then said, “I don’t think it will let you look at naked girls, if that’s what you’re trying to do.”

  “I’m not,” I swore, holding up three fingers in the Boy Scout manner. “But I am trying to look at the site of a Hollywood studio that makes, well, I guess you might say stag films.”

  Mary’s eyebrows went up at that but then she said, “Is it true you used to be a police detective in California?”

  “Yes,” I said. “In Los Angeles but I did some work in Hollywood, too. I was private, then.”

  Mary cut to the chase. “Are you being a detective now, Mike?”

  “Yes, and for a good cause,” I told her. I hoped it was true.

  She sat down at the computer, did a few things to it, and said, “Try it now.” She got up and retreated to the back of the library again.

  I tried the browser and up came the Shock and Awe Web site. It was pretty basic and so were the women shown on the covers of its DVDs. Basically naked, that is. I was glad Mary had not stuck around. A quick search around the Web site revealed a photograph of a producer-director named Morgan Cade who looked an awful lot like the owner of the old Corbel place. Mr. Cade, the Web site said, was a producer-director of many fine films and a winner of a number of adult film industry awards. There was no mention of him being retired and gone to live among the cows and conservatives of Fillmore County although I did notice that the last of his productions, a flick titled Dancing with the Stark Naked, had been released over five years ago. Apparently, Shock and Awe didn’t get around to updating its site very often, or maybe it was coasting on its past successes or maybe these kinds of films had an endless shelf life.

  Having discovered at least something about Cade Morgan, I went after his buddy Toby, which I knew was bound to be more difficult as I only knew his first name. I also suspected it was fake or at least a nickname. I looked around the Shock and Awe site, hoping for at least a photograph of his ugly mug at a party but had no luck. I went back to the search engine and broadened my search, trying as many combinations I could think of that included Toby, director, producer, pornography, and so forth. Nothing came back that made any sense. I called Mary. “I think I’m through here,” I told her.

  She came back to her desk, sat down as I vacated her chair, and tapped the necessary keys to, I suppose, put the computer back in a safe mode for the ranchers and the families of Fillmore County. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked.

  “Yes and no,” I said.

  “Tell me what you’re trying to do,” she said. “Maybe I can help.” I hesitated and she said, “I can keep a secret, Mike.”

  She was looking at me with her sincere, and very blue eyes and, so of course, I melted. “You know Cade Morgan? Well, I was trying to find out more about him. I found some stuff but I was wondering about his friend Toby who’s been hanging around for the last few weeks. No luck there.”

  “Cade Morgan made X-rated movies before he came here,” she said. “And Toby is a Russian national who invested in his films.”

  I’m sure my astonishment played across my face. “How did you know that?”

  “Mike,” she said, “the women in this county know everything.”

  “Do you know who cut the throats of those cows?”

  “No,” she confessed. “We’ve been leaving that one up to the men. Do you think Cade and Toby did it?”

  I told her something I hadn’t even told myself. “I think they may have had something to do with it. That’s only a suspicion. I don’t have a thing on them.”

  “How about those two brothers from Green Planet?” she asked.

  I had actually given Brian and Philip a pass, just as all of us had that first day we met them. Now that Mary had brought them up, I gave those boys a good think, conceding, “It would make a kind of strange sense, I guess.” I added, “But I’ve been working with them out on the BLM and I don’t think either one of them could use a knife without cutting their own fingers off. I also don’t think they’re the cow killer types.”

  She nodded. “And Cade and Toby are?”

  “I don’t know, Mary. Let’s just keep all of this between us, OK?”

  She mimed a zipper with two fingers across her pretty face and said, “My lips are sealed.”

  I left the library and headed back to the Hell Creek Bar. On the way, I considered asking to use the phone in the bar to call some pals I still had in Hollywood to ask them what they knew about Cade. On the other hand, I again reminded myself none of this was any of my business. When I arrived at the bar, Laura and Tanya were not there. Joe said, “They went to the motel to get washed up. Want a beer?”

  I did but I had some other things to do. Like all cowboys in town, I needed to visit the hardware store, not to buy anything but to talk to the owner, a man named Normal (not Norman but Normal) and yet another of the Brescoe clan although his last name was Packer. Normal Packer’s mother was a Brescoe so that still made him one. “Hi Normal,” I said, after pretending to shop along the short aisles of his store. “How’s business?”

  Of course, that’s the wrong question to ask a small businessman in a place like Jericho so it was fifteen minutes later before Normal had finished his discourse on the state of his economic situation, which was naturally not good and never had been. “Well,” I said, “maybe things will pick up.”

  “We’ll see,” Normal said. “So what’s up with you, Mike?”

  “This is kind of off the wall,” I said, “but you being a Brescoe and all, what’s the latest on the mayor and Ted? They doing OK?”

  Normal considered me, and said, “As a matter of fact, I think they are. I haven’t heard anything, anyway. Why?”

  “I always liked Ted and I just wondered.”

  “You like Ted? I’d say you were about the only one. I don’t like him and I don’t know anybody in the family who does. He’s right much a prick.”

  “I guess I’ve always rooted for the underdog,” I said, lamely, and made my escape.

  I’d pretty much done downtown Jericho since I’d hit the bar, the motel, the library, and the hardware store so about all that was left was the mortuary and fortunately I didn’t have any reason to go there. I headed back to the courthouse, catching Jeanette on the steps as she walked out with an entourage of county leaders. They fanned around her and kept going, apparently with their Jeanette “to do” lists.

  Jeanette waved me over. “Mike, go on over to the fairgrounds and help the vendors set up. The rodeo folks will also need assistance figuring out where to put their trucks and what to do. You helped last year so you know the drill.”

  “OK, boss,” I said, even though she’d just given me enough work to burn through the entire day and probably most of the night, too. Because I was feeling a little silly, I said, “After I finish that, what else do you want me to do?”

  Jeanette didn’t take my question as silly at all. She thought about it, then said, “Help the folks putting up the decorations on the main drag. Have you seen Ray?”

  I hadn’t, nor Amelia, now that I gave it some thought. They had friends in town, though, and I figured they were hanging out with them so that’s what I told Jeanette. “Find him and find her,” she ordered. “Take him with you to the fairgrounds to help you. Send Amelia to me. I’ve got work for her to do.”

  I clicked my heels and saluted with a stiff arm and a Heil Jeanette. Actually, I said “OK, boss,” and headed back to the motel to consult Mori who knew everything that was happening in town and would probably know the location of the two kids.

  Along the way, I ran across Laura and Tanya who were strolling along the sidewalk taking in the sights of Jericho. The ladies seemed to be heading in the direction of the gas station, which was also a restaurant. They confirmed that by saying, “We’re going for lunch. Want to come along?”

  “Jeanette’s got me on a mission,” I said. “But how about ordering me two six-inch subs, one veggie for me, one turkey and all t
he fixings for Ray, and I’ll pick them up in about an hour.”

  They agreed to this and I kept going to the motel. I rang the bell on the office in the back and Mori opened the door. “I’m looking for Ray and Amelia,” I said. “Got any idea where they might be?”

  “Sure,” she said. “They’re in room number twelve.”

  Two teenagers, one male, one female, both in love with each other whether they admitted it or not, were in a motel room together. This was not good. I thanked Mori and abruptly departed, heading for room number twelve which was the room I’d assigned to Laura and Tanya. I hesitated in front of the door, then pounded on it. “Ray, open up!” I cried, a little frantically. Jeanette was going to kill me if what was happening in there was what I feared it was.

  It was Amelia who opened the door. She was fully clothed, she didn’t appear flushed or out of breath or anything, but when I looked past her, there was Ray lolling on the bed and it looked a bit rumpled. “What’s going on?” I asked, knowing full well what had been going on.

  But on my second look, I saw the reason for Ray on the bed and the rumpled appearance of it. There was a Monopoly game in its center. Amelia went back to the bed, took up station cross-legged in front of the board and said, “I am killing Ray.”

  “She is not,” Ray said. “I just bought Boardwalk.”

  “Well, that’s all you’ve got,” she said, “and it took nearly all your money to buy it. You’re cooked.”

  What was I thinking? This was Fillmore County, which is to say it was 1950s U.S.A., and teenagers alone in a motel room were more likely to play Monopoly than literally screw around. But I knew that could change on a dime, considering that Ray and Amelia were, after all, the real deal so I said, “Ray, your mother wants you to go with me to the fairgrounds. The vendors always need a lot of help. Amelia, Jeanette wants to see you as soon as possible.”

  Amelia hopped up. “I’ll beat you later, boy,” she said.

  Ray and I headed to the gas station/restaurant where our subs were waiting for us. We got some cold drinks, chatted briefly with Tanya and Laura who were enjoying the air conditioning, then departed for the fairgrounds via Bob, eating our subs on the way. There, predictably, a Chinese fire drill was going on (as we used to call confusion and turmoil before we all became politically correct and the Chinese bought our country) and Ray and I waded in to help sort everything out. It was midnight before he and I got back to the motel. We were both tired and hungry but more tired so he went to the room he was sharing with his mother and I went to mine. I didn’t know where Laura was or Tanya, either. I considered going down to the bar to see if they were there but instead I stretched out on the bed and fell pretty much instantly asleep. This was getting to be a habit and maybe it was time to admit I was getting old. Either that or stop working eighteen hour days.

  19

  Jericho was buzzing with excitement the next morning when I arose, which was around five in the morning. Brian and Philip were sharing the room with me but I hadn’t heard them come in. Brian was on the other bed, asleep on top of the covers and Philip was asleep on the floor in a sleeping bag. They were lightly snoring and I didn’t do anything to wake them up. Instead, I stepped outside to a bright white sun already rising and skies so clear I could see all the way to the moon, which was also hanging up there, the man in it apparently enjoying the view of Fillmore County on its biggest day of the year. Every crook, crevice, and alley in town had a pickup parked in it and people were out and about. It was sort of like a family reunion, everyone in the county related by ranching, if not genetically, and come to town to enjoy the day. I spotted clusters of men, their hats pushed back on their heads, mugs of coffee in their hands, standing around telling lies and laughing. A few women were out, too, most of them on the way somewhere. Both the library and the bar were already open, their doors swinging open and closed as patrons went in and out. The parade wasn’t supposed to start until ten o’clock but already the fire truck and the floats were lined up. It looked like Jeanette was going to have a tough time keeping them from starting early.

  I headed to the gas station/restaurant and joined a throng of folks for breakfast. Laura, Tanya, Ray, Amelia, and Jeanette were there although she was just leaving as I came in. She was wearing jeans, a somewhat frilly blue sleeveless cotton blouse which showed off her lovely arms, and cowgirl boots. She also had her hair down which is the way I like it, not that she cares. “Did you get the vendors squared away?” she asked as I held the door open for her.

  “Sure did.”

  “More will be coming this morning. Go up there and make sure they get set up.”

  “OK, boss. Do I have time for breakfast?”

  “Yes, if you make it fast. And Mike? I want you to look after those fossil hunters today. Especially Pick. There are people around here who might try to play tricks on him. You know what I mean.”

  “OK, boss,” I said, mentally tacking one more thing on my work list. Look after Pick. Great.

  Jeanette left and I went inside, nodded to the Blackie Butte crew, which I realized was missing our intrepid dinosaur hunter. Once I loaded my plate with eggs and biscuits, I sat down with Ray and Amelia, there being room at their booth, and looked over my shoulder where Laura and Tanya were sitting. “Where’s Pick?” I asked them.

  “He won’t be up until noon,” Laura said. “He loves his air conditioning.”

  I was tired enough I didn’t filter my next question. “Where is he sleeping?”

  “With us,” Laura said.

  “In the other bed,” Tanya added.

  This made Amelia giggle. “And where did you sleep, young lady?” I asked, recalling she was supposed to bunk with the dino gals.

  “With Ray,” she answered, sweetly. “In the other bed,” Ray said, shooting eye darts at Amelia. “Mom stayed with Aunt Ophelia.”

  I was aware that Jeanette had relatives in town, specifically an aunt. But that was a never mind. “Did she know you and Amelia were sleeping in the same room?”

  Ray didn’t say anything, which was an answer. “Come here, young man,” I said and stood up and went over by the ice maker.

  He joined me. “Yeah?”

  “Listen, did anything happen?”

  “Yeah. She beat me at Monopoly.”

  “You’ll call me sir and don’t give me that. You know what I mean.”

  “Nothing happened, Mike, I swear. Sir.”

  I looked Ray in the eye and could tell he was telling the truth. “Look, pardner,” I said, “a thing like this could get out and hurt Amelia’s reputation. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

  “No sir, but—”

  “There’s no but. Tonight, she sleeps somewhere else. I don’t care where but not with you. OK?”

  Ray nodded. “OK.”

  I clapped him on the shoulder. “Hurry up and eat. We’ve got work to do.”

  We went back to our breakfast, choked it down, and headed out for the fairgrounds, running into the Marsh brothers going inside. “Can we help?” they asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “Stay out of trouble. And don’t say a damn thing that might be perceived as environmental to one of these cowboys. You got that?”

  “Can we talk about the dinosaurs?” Brian asked.

  “No! Don’t say anything at all.”

  Ray and I took off, arriving at the rodeo grounds to find not a Chinese fire drill but a full-blown Chinese disaster, not that the Chinese had anything to do with it. Vendors were squabbling over their locations, there was an impromptu roundup going on since a couple of bucking bulls had escaped, and the sun was already beating down. As soon as everyone spotted me, they lined up in a polite queue, each telling me their problems and allowing me to sort it all out. Actually, we were ignored but Ray and I charged in, anyway, and did our best to help.

  We worked until we were sweaty messes and we didn’t make the parade although I understand it was pretty grand. There was the volunteer fire department fire truck, two floats,
one featuring the girls basketball team at the high school and the other sponsored by the mortuary, which had, appropriately enough, the owner and his family members dressed up like Montana pioneers (they’re all dead, you see). There were also some rodeo contestants riding their fancy horses, and a red convertible containing a local beauty queen, a Brescoe, of course, her sash reading miss walleye, which referred to, I believe, the fish and not any imperfection of the young lady. I also heard Pick was part of the parade, not because he was supposed to, but because he got lost going to the gas station/restaurant for breakfast and found himself in the middle of main street between the two floats. When people started to cheer, he started waving. That’s our Pick.

  After the parade, the pickups filled up with folks and headed for the fairground, disgorging ranchers, their ladies, and their kids to swill on hot dogs, soda pop, and popcorn; peruse the horses, calves, pigs, sheep, and rodeo riders getting ready for the competition; and visiting with each other as the movable Fillmore County family reunion/Independence Day celebration continued, only at a slightly different location.

  I spotted the Haxbys or, more accurately, they spotted me and the next thing I knew I was being confronted by Sam, Jack, and Carl, which was a lot of Haxbys to be confronted by. “Heard you took a walk around my place,” Sam said, and by the tone of his deep voice, I knew he was not pleased by my little sojourn on his lease.

  I cut my eyes toward Carl, hoping for a twinkle in his eye meaning I was getting teased, but it wasn’t there. I said, “I apologized to Carl for that, Sam, and I’m apologizing to you, here and now. I’m sorry and I mean that. I should have checked with you first.”