Conservation easements were a popular legal mechanism in the area. They lasted perpetually and placed restrictions on the future use of the land. In this case, a valid conservation easement would have effectively prohibited the developer from building the condominiums it desired.
The original owner’s son, now ninety-two and living at his son’s house in Richmond, Virginia, attested by phone to Jake that his father had in fact recorded the easement some eighty years ago. He had no paper records.
All the owners since the original owner had believed the easement was valid, too. But Teton County was still in the process of filing its land records in a computer database, and this old record had no backup. The easement had no concrete documentation. Nobody knew whether the easement had once been filed and then lost, or was never properly filed to begin with. Nobody knew anything.
The developer, predicting a hostile response from the town, decided to offer to resolve the dispute by paying an extra sum of money, to be used for conservation efforts, to the township. The township was considering whether they should accept what, to Jake, sounded a lot like a bribe.
Unfortunately, it looked like the money had charmed the majority of the council. But there was one last step: pursuant to the town’s bylaws, there would have to be an opportunity for proponents from each side to present their arguments at a public hearing. Jake had been asked to present the opposition’s opinion on the matter.
It was now completely dark outside Jake’s bedroom window. After reviewing the facts in his head, he was no longer particularly anxious about the speech. His mind finally and subconsciously decided to take its rest.
Then Jake’s eyes flashed open. He stared up at the ceiling and said aloud: “Shit, I’m going to get arrested tomorrow.” He threw his head back into the pillow.
Maybe not arrested, but certainly questioned. “Shit!” he said aloud again. Once the police had a chance to think about it, they were going to be very interested in the fact that Jake had gone on an overnight float trip alone, with no witnesses, and returned with a dead man’s body.
6
GRAND TETON NATIONAL PARK. THE SAME EVENING.
Noelle was rolling the smooth bear tooth around in the palm of her hand. She’d been planning to drop the tooth off with Nat Passa after her patrol, but by the time she got back to the trailhead, the gate to the parking area was closed and locked.
They must be finished, she surmised.
Instead of driving into town to hand the tooth over to the police, she stopped at the Jenny Lake Lodge and, while chatting with an old friend, dropped the tooth into a hotel key card envelope and taped the flap.
I’ll get it to Terrell or the bear team tomorrow.
She’d left the envelope in the truck, but that evening Noelle had the urge to retrieve it. At the kitchen table, she pulled the tooth from its envelope and held it a few inches from her eyes, studying.
It was unusual that the tooth remained whole. Should it have broken off at the gum line? Perhaps, but here it was, with its sharp, undamaged point and full roots.
Noelle corrected herself and laughed. When you are investigating a bear attack in your free time, you need a hobby.
She had an adventurous soul, though. These were the same feelings that had driven her to move to Jackson and pursue excitement via extreme sports and mountaineering. In a strange way, the current excitement was reawakening her.
Recently, Noelle had noticed that the high she once felt from these endeavors was waning. She knew she shouldn’t get more involved in the bear mauling case than she already was, but she yearned for the exhilaration.
Then again, her intentions were pure. Her secret investigation wasn’t hurting anyone. Except maybe for me, she thought. She pictured herself solving some unlikely crime—having the time of her life and being lauded as a hero. She opened her computer and double-clicked on the desktop icon for her email.
There were no new messages in her in-box. Suddenly she recalled a thought from the previous night. Noelle had an old flame—a bear expert at Montana State University. Noelle had broken off their relations suddenly and without explanation, but this seemed like a fine opportunity to get back in touch. She started drafting an email.
Keith Strang had initially pursued a PhD in fish and wildlife biology at MSU. After beginning his studies, though, he became increasingly passionate about the conservation of predatory mammals, namely bears, wolves, and mountain lions. Keith’s passion wasn’t fueled by a specific affection for predators themselves, but he felt that those animals that humans considered to be dangerous needed the most protection.
It was easy, Keith believed, to gain a sympathetic public opinion toward a colorful tree frog or the majestic and nationally endorsed bald eagle. Protecting animals that competed with us at the top of the food chain, on the other hand, ran counter to our instincts. It was for this very reason—the challenge of the task—that Keith decided to forgo the pursuit of his degree and work full-time as a wildlife field researcher specializing in grizzly and black bears.
His primary mission these days was to debunk the myth that certain bears became “killer” bears after they attacked once and therefore should be exterminated. Instead, Keith believed that repeat attacks could be attributed to the simple fact that certain bears inhabited areas where human interaction was more likely.
To Keith, a dangerous bear—even a repeat offender—should always be relocated. There was no reason that Keith could think of that a bear should ever be killed, and his research aimed to prove that notion.
Noelle wanted to know what Keith thought of yesterday’s attack—especially the tooth. He would at least be able to tell her what species the culprit was, she figured. Maybe more. She started typing.
Dear Keith,
Hello from Jackson Hole! I hope you’re well!
My apologies for the short notice, but if it is okay with you, I was thinking about stopping by tomorrow sometime. As I am sure you know, there was a bear attack down here in the Tetons. I found a tooth at the scene of the attack and I was wondering if you could take a look at it.
Thanks! I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow!
Warmly,
Noelle
P.S.—Don’t tell anyone about this until we talk more!
Noelle left her computer open for a few minutes just in case Keith happened to be in his lab late.
Was that too flirty?
She wasn’t surprised when her in-box chimed a minute later. Keith was still up.
Hey Stranger,
I’ll be here. Excited to see what you bring in for me!
Peace!
Keith
The email seemed a bit short, but at least he agreed to see her. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he didn’t respond at all.
Noelle smiled. Keith knew her quirks as well as anyone. He knew about her love for adventure ever since she had asked for his help in herding two dozen bison back into Yellowstone to protect them from hunters. That was their first date, if rounding up bison could be called a date. Under the moonlight on horseback and without the park’s permission, they got all twenty-four back into their safe haven.
Tomorrow would be just like old times.
Noelle ignored the question: Do I want old times?
With Keith’s help she could learn something from the tooth. Plus, Noelle could drive to Bozeman through Yellowstone National Park, something that she always cherished. In early summer, the park was filled with young mammals plodding along with their mothers—elk, deer, bison. It was a sight to behold.
Noelle set her alarm clock for 5 a.m. and got under the pile of old sleeping bags. The plan had energized her mind. Her thoughts wandered, trying to make sense of what was going on. Sleep was elusive, but exhaustion infected her logic. She even considered contacting a psychic in Jackson who was also a self-proclaimed expert cryptozoologist. Maybe the attack seemed superviolent because the attacker was some yet-to-be-discovered creature! A sasquatch! She laughed to herself.
Noelle had gone to the psychic the prior fall. The woman’s prediction that Noelle would soon meet the man of her dreams was far from true, and when the woman hit and killed a bighorn sheep in a steep canyon east of Jackson, she told the authorities that a Meh-Teh, or abominable snowman, had thrown a dead carcass at her car while she drove.
In her police report, she wrote that the monster tried to kill her because she was the only human aware of its existence. Eventually the mystery of the flying carcass was resolved when the woman failed a field sobriety test and quickly admitted to smoking marijuana and drinking moonshine before driving. Noelle would stick with Keith for now.
She finally drifted off to sleep with a smirk on her face.
* * *
The next morning, Noelle woke up to her alarm and found it easy to get out of bed. She brushed her teeth, changed her clothes, grabbed the tooth, and walked to the car. She had to stop for coffee and gas at Dornan’s on the way to Route 89. Again, she found herself wishing she had someone to share her morning coffee with.
You’re getting soft, Noelle.
The young man working at Dornan’s was a new employee with an “in-training” ribbon below his name tag. Noelle figured he was a seasonal worker who had come for the summer to fish, climb, and hike. Ninety-day wonder.
Sure enough, the man started to awkwardly make conversation with her. “Do you live here? You’re up early for a tourist. Um, I . . . I just moved here last Sunday, is why I ask.”
“I work over in the park.” She pointed west toward the Snake River and then swept her hand north toward Mt. Moran. He smiled and nodded. She felt bad for him. She knew how hard it was to relocate to a new place without any friends or family.
He was a good-looking guy. Athletic and handsome. It wasn’t that. Noelle was tempted to get his number, but she hesitated too long and made it awkward. Instead, she took advantage of the early hour and faked a yawn, making it clear to the man that she was ready to terminate the conversation as soon as possible.
He handed her the correct change for her coffee and said, “Well, I hope to see you around again. Have a nice day.” Noelle forced a smile and walked away.
Her phone was ringing when she got into her truck.
“Hello?” she answered without bothering to see who it was. Noelle skimmed the park bulletin as she spoke. Mr. Passa and the others had found a bear in the area of the attack and killed it.
Dammit.
“Noelle, how are you?!” It was Anna, Noelle’s sister, and she was excited about something. She rarely had time to call Noelle and it was never with the delight that her voice was now unable to hide.
“I’m great,” Noelle mustered. “How’re you? It’s a bit early for a phone call, don’t you think?” It was 5:30 a.m. Mountain Time. Anna lived in New York.
“Well, you know, there’s the time change. And plus, I have exciting news for you!”
“You’re getting married?” It had been a long time coming. Noelle wasn’t the biggest fan of the institution, but she could be happy for her younger sister.
“Dammit! You were supposed to let me break the news! What do you think?”
“It’s wonderful, really. Congratulations! I can’t wait to see you on your wedding day.” The remark sounded contrived as it came out, but it was the best she could offer. “Who’s the lucky guy?” Noelle was kidding—Anna and Steve had been dating for nearly ten years. Everyone in the family approved of him. He was a banker but had more depth to his personality than might be expected.
“Last night he proposed on the Staten Island Ferry. I was stunned,” Anna said. “Oh my God! I cried! I couldn’t even answer!”
“I can imagine,” Noelle said, although it was a lie. “When is the big day?”
“October, here in the city. Still hoping warmish day with fall foliage. I thought you’d approve.” Fall was Noelle’s favorite season in New York. “And obviously I want you to be the maid of honor.”
“Approved. And I’m flattered.”
Fall weddings are becoming so cliché these days, she thought cynically. And what the hell does she mean “you’d approve” of fall? Am I that drab?
Still, Noelle was excited to see her family and she was truly happy for her sister. What she wasn’t looking forward to were the comments from the family when she showed up stag.
“Hey, sis, I’m gonna go, though. I will call again soon, it’s just that I have to make a zillion other calls. You are just the second to know after Mom.”
“I understand. It’s a busy day for you. I love you!”
Noelle sounded genuine at last.
But along with being happy for her sibling there was a tinge of sadness. Anna was years younger. Their family had always expected Noelle to get married first. For a while, she had expected it too.
Oh well. Noelle refocused on driving.
The day was warming up. As the sun rose, Noelle was even able to open the windows a bit, although she still ran the heater for her feet. She carefully glanced again at the park bulletin on the passenger seat and read the major points for the second time. Yep, they’d shot a bear yesterday at Gosling Lake. Probably the wrong one too.
Out of the blue Noelle started to cry, which she hadn’t done in a long time. Is it the bear, or is it Anna’s engagement? Stop being so emotional.
Noelle drove back through the northern end of Grand Teton National Park on her way to Yellowstone, without stopping at the gate to chat with the ranger. Her official vehicle granted her ingress whenever she pleased. She drove north still, past Jackson Lake Lodge and Leek’s Marina. She hadn’t stopped for lunch at the marina in ages. It was one of her favorite spots in the valley and she vowed to stop neglecting it. She looked forward to making the drive to the marina to eat pizza and watch the sailboats come and go.
Noelle did stop at the south entrance to Yellowstone to check that all the roads were open through the north entrance.
“Dunraven is closed, but that’s it,” the woman at the checkpoint responded.
Dunraven Pass led to Montana through the northeastern gate. Noelle’s drive to Bozeman didn’t require her to take the closed pass. It was unfortunate, in a way. That corner of the park was probably its most impressive. There, the land lacked the geothermal features that the central region boasted, but the amount and diversity of wildlife was astonishing.
On her last visit to the Lamar River Valley—the main attraction in the northeast corner of Yellowstone—Noelle observed a grizzly, two black bears, countless bison and antelope, and a few young bighorn sheep. Although she hadn’t seen any wolves during her last visit, the Lamar River Valley always held that possibility as well.
Past the Lamar River Valley sat Cooke City, a tiny town tucked up into the mountains of extreme southern Montana.
The town was a single dirt road with cheap motels, taverns, and gift shops. One of the bars had a few slot machines from cowboy times. Mainly though, the town was wet and snowy and muddy, with its tiny rivulets often splitting the road into small islands.
The sun was up fully now and Noelle climbed out of Jackson Hole and onto the caldera that formed the Yellowstone Plateau. She passed the right turn for Old Faithful. In the time that Noelle had lived here, which wasn’t much more than a decade, the turn had changed from a simple T intersection into its current layout—a highwaylike exit complete with entrance and exit ramps. A new visitors’ center was also under construction. Progress.
Noelle spotted a herd of mother bison and their young along the Firehole River. The stumbling babies played in the green, soppy grass that was barren of snow year-round because of the river’s warm springs. Birds landed on their backs and they bucked them off playfully.
She drove past the Fountain Paint Pot, through Madison Junction, and out the north entrance to the park. Just before 9:30 a.m., she arrived at her old friend’s laboratory on the Montana State campus in Bozeman.
Before going in, she stopped at the student bookstore next door and purchased two cups of
coffee, adding cream and artificial sweetener to her own and pocketing a few of the station’s accoutrements to give Keith some options.
She took a left turn into the stairwell and went down one flight to the basement, where Keith spent most of his waking hours. When she opened the door, the man was wrestling with a large beaker that was overflowing a thick, foamy liquid.
“No! Stay back, Noelle!” he shouted. Keith’s hair and beard said hippie, but his attire said scientist. The look on his face was alarming.
Noelle heeded his request, stepping backward away from the experiment.
“I’ve discovered something here! Something world changing!”
“Wha . . . ?” Noelle was confused. Then it occurred to her. He was playing a joke.
Keith stopped, looked up, and winked at her. “Just trying to bring back some of the old chemistry, that’s all.”
Chemistry. Baking soda volcano. Clever. Keith was from Chicago, and his big-city charm was still there. It stood out more up here in the middle of nowhere. Noelle kept a straight face. She wasn’t here to flirt.
“Yeah, the kid that I Big Brother for wants to take me to Dads’ Day at his school, and I just really want the other kids to be impressed.” He sounded genuine.
“You are one of the most prominent grizzly and black bear experts in the United States, and you are going to try to impress them with cliché chemistry magic?” The stoicism left her face. She clucked her tongue in mock disapproval.
“You can’t take a grizzly into a public school anymore.”
He has a point, Noelle admitted. “Well, glad, and sort of surprised, to see you have the sense to know so.”
He laughed with her and the two hugged. “So you have a bear tooth to show me, you say?” He gave her a puzzled look, getting down to business.
“Um, yeah.” Good, she thought. Keep it professional. “I was hoping that you could take a look at it for me. The thing is that I don’t really have it . . . on the record, that is; I took it from the scene of the attack without telling anyone. I guess what I’m saying is let’s keep it on the down low.”
Death Canyon Page 7