Fatal Descent

by Beth Groundwater

  of the 40,000 generations of thinking men and women

  who preceded us, about whom we know almost nothing,

  upon whom our civilization is based.

  —carl sagan

  An hour later, Mandy plied her oars through the silty waters of the Colorado River and tried to figure out what Betsy’s observations meant. After checking with the remaining Andersons, who had agreed, Mandy had decided to take the rest of the group to their originally planned next stop, the native American ruins across the river from Lathrop Canyon. That would give Rob time to look for hikers on the Lathrop Canyon trail before they rejoined him, Cool, and Les around lunchtime. The group could eat lunch at the picnic tables there while the guides decided what their next move would be.

  When they pushed the rafts off the river bank, Mandy had wound up solo in hers, because her raft was overloaded with extra gear that normally would have been stowed on Rob’s. Though the rafts stayed close together, that left Mandy time alone to think. After they had gotten back to camp, Betsy had opened her wildlife tracking guidebook to show Mandy grizzly and back bear prints and claw marks. While very similar, there were marked differences. Mandy had told Betsy that she needed to talk to Rob, and in the meantime, she asked Betsy to keep the information to herself.

  No grizzlies had ever been spotted in the whole state of Utah, so there was no way Alex could have been attacked by a real grizzly bear. But Betsy had been so sure the prints were grizzly, even when Mandy pointed that out to her. Mandy had to agree—the tracks looked more like grizzly than black bear. And then there was the strange fact that they had all come from the same foot. Could the other odd details Betsy had observed about the death scene mean that someone had staged the death to look like a bear attack, using a preserved bear claw to cover the real cause of death?

  If so, how was Alex really killed—and by whom? If he had been murdered, that meant the killer was still among them. A chill ran down Mandy’s spine. Could the killer be plotting more deaths? The convenient destruction of the radio pointed to that strong possibility. And if so, like the aquatic life hidden under the murky surface of the Colorado River, secrets must be lurking under the surface of Alex’s supposedly accidental demise.

  Deadly secrets.

  Mandy’s mind returned full-circle. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe Betsy really wasn’t as knowledgeable about bear prints as she seemed to be. Unfortunately, in the process of moving Alex’s body, all of the prints had been obliterated. So Betsy’s observations couldn’t be confirmed—unless the photos Mandy took included some of the prints. Maybe they could be blown up to show the prints were all from the same paw, and maybe a bear expert could determine that they were grizzly.

  But first they had to get off the river.

  While Mandy’s mind—and gut—were in turmoil, the float to the Lathrop ruins was quiet. Kendra had the four remaining Andersons in her paddle raft, and she politely gave her passengers space to grieve and talk quietly among themselves. Gonzo tried to impart some river knowledge to the six clients in his raft to keep them distracted. He got Viv talking about the many species of swallows inhabiting the cliffsides, and she was able to spot mud, barn, and cliff swallows darting in and out of shadowed crevices with her binoculars. When Mo asked about the dying tamarisk trees she had seen along the river banks, Gonzo got Mandy’s attention. He passed the question along to her, since it was her area of expertise.

  Mandy put aside her mental quandary to explain the park’s strategy to control this destructive invasive species. Imported from Europe and Asia for use as landscape ornamentals, the tamarisks quickly spread throughout the Western United States. They displaced native trees and thirstily drank much more water than native plants. Being a variety of salt cedar, their leaf residue increased the soil salinity, killing even more native vegetation. The US Agricultural Service imported tamarisk leaf beetles from China to feed on the trees, releasing them in 2001. Since then, long patches of tamarisks along the Colorado and Green rivers had been defoliated and native willows were returning.

  By the time the discussion moved on to identifying some of the fifteen native varieties of willows, Mandy saw that Kendra had maneuvered her raft close enough so the Anderson family could hear, too. Realizing the distraction might be good for them, Mandy pointed to a large stand of green willows on the river bank.

  “Those tall willows that grow in groves like bamboo are coyote willows. The beavers that live along the river love to feed on them.”

  “But we haven’t seen any beaver dams,” Paul said.

  “There’s no way they could dam the Colorado,” Mandy said with a smile. “It’s too big. And the canyon streams are seasonal. They’re dry most of the year. So, the beavers that live here don’t build dams.”

  At that moment, a great blue heron swooped past the rafts. With a reverent “Aah,” Viv tracked its flight with her binoculars.

  “See where it landed,” Kendra said while pointing. “If you look in that hackberry tree, you’ll see at least three heron nests. Usually herons are loners and nest on the ground. But here in the canyons, coyotes are a big threat to them. So, like the beavers, the herons have adapted to this unique environment. They live in communities in the treetops so they can protect each other from the hungry coyotes.”

  Diana leaned her head against Hal’s shoulder. “Alex told me that this was one thing he wanted us to see, how the river canyons have forced wildlife to adapt.” She looked at her daughter Alice. “Maybe you’re right about finishing the trip. Then we’d be honoring his wishes.”

  “But what do we do about his body?” Hal asked Mandy.

  Mandy knew what he meant. After a few days on the river in that black PVC bag, Alex’s body would start to decompose. “If we can’t find a powerboat on the river to take Alex and you all back to Moab,” Mandy said, “we’ll dunk his body bag in the river each night to keep it cool. It’s watertight, so no water will get in.” She didn’t know what else they could do.

  Hal bit his lip and nodded. He looked away, and Mandy realized he was fighting tears.

  They rounded a bend, and Gonzo pointed out a wide beach on river left. “There’s where we pull in to look at the ruins.”

  They beached and anchored the rafts. Then Mandy gently asked the Andersons if they wanted space and time to themselves or if they wanted to join the group in hiking to the ruins.

  “Seeing everything is what Alex would want us to do,” Alice said, and Amy agreed.

  Hal stepped out of the raft. “I’d rather hike than sit here.”

  Diana sniffed and swiped a tear off her cheek, then with a determined set to her chin, she gave a nod, too.

  Gonzo led the clients onto a well-worn trail that slanted up the cliffside to a ledge overlooking the river. Mandy realized that while she couldn’t do much to alleviate the Andersons’ grief, she could at least address another nagging issue of the trip. She signaled Kendra to hang back in the rear with her.

  Once the others were out of earshot, Mandy asked, “I haven’t had a chance to bring this up with everything else that’s been going on, but what did Betsy, Mo, and Viv say about Cool’s flirting when you asked them last night?”

  Kendra’s brow furrowed. “They tried to say it was no big deal, that they viewed it as a compliment. But …”

  “But what?”

  “Their body language said something else. I think they’re a little uncomfortable with it.”

  “Damn.” Mandy kicked a stone off the trail. “I’m definitely going to have to tell him to back off.”

  “That wasn’t the only problem, though,” Kendra said.

  “What else is Cool doing?” Mandy asked angrily.

  “He’s not the other problem. Les Williams is. Seems he made a sleazy remark to Viv. She said she was embarrassed to tell me about it since I’m black, but it also made her mad. Les made some comment about what a fox she was and ask
ed what she was doing sleeping with a black man when there were handsome white guys like him around who are available.”

  Shocked, Mandy stared at Kendra. “The nerve!”

  “And available?” Kendra snorted. “The flaming bigot is married, and his wife is on the trip!”

  “What did Viv do?”

  “She brushed him off by saying pretty much the same thing. She said she stomped off before she could say anything really foul to him—or slap him like she really wanted to.”

  What a low-life. “Given how much Les controls Amy, I guess I’m not surprised. Trying to pick up other women is another way to prove no woman controls him, that he can do whatever he pleases.”

  “It’s assholes like him who make me glad I’ve got Gonzo.” Kendra gazed at her boyfriend, marching in front of the group and gesturing toward the river, his Rastafarian braids bouncing with his boisterous movements.

  “Sounds like it’s getting serious,” Mandy said with a grin.

  “Not yet, but he treats me right. Really respects me, you know?”

  Mandy nodded. “I know. And when you find a guy like that, you hang on to him.”

  Though Rob had a frustrating tendency to want to take care of her, he did respect her. And he had backed off and let her be her own woman when she needed to. Yeah, she was glad she had Rob, too.

  They caught up with Hal and Diana, who had lagged behind the others. While talking with Kendra, Mandy had noticed that Hal seemed to be having trouble with the uphill climb, stopping a few times to catch his breath. He was breathing heavily now, sucking in huge gasps of air while Diana stood beside him looking worried.

  Mandy was worried, too. This was a very short uphill hike compared to some of the others they had planned. Hal hadn’t listed any health issues on the client medical form, other than mild hypertension. But Mandy knew clients often lied, afraid that their medical problems would mean they wouldn’t be accepted for trips. Or maybe he was just particularly susceptible to altitude sickness, though Moab was only about 3,000 feet higher in altitude than his home in Omaha.

  When Mandy asked Hal if he was okay, he waved her off and started walking again. Watching his bowed shoulders, she thought maybe his grief was weighing on him. She hoped that was it. But she feared otherwise.

  Once they all reached a large ancient granary built under an overhang, they took turns peering into it. Gonzo explained it was constructed out of stones cemented together with a mud made of sand and clay mixed with urine, blood, feces, or other organic matter.

  Tina wrinkled her nose and said, “Yuck.”

  Turning from the nearby handprint and bighorn sheep pictographs that she was photographing, Elsa asked, “Why’d they store their food in such a remote place?”

  “Actually, they didn’t store food in the granaries.” Gonzo swept an arm toward the wide sandy flatland between them and the river. “Down there is what we call ‘Big Bottom.’ These bottoms are where the ancestral Puebloans, or what used to be called the Anasazi, grew their squash, beans, and corn in the summers. After the harvest, they’d hide their seed stocks and tools from other tribes in these granaries before heading to the highlands in the cool months to hunt for deer and other meat.”

  “Ah, so these are hiding places,” Elsa said with dawning understanding. “That’s why they’re so remote and high up.”

  Gonzo pointed out a design on the rock wall that archaeologists thought was a solstice calendar and took them to another smaller granary and some more rock art. By then, it was approaching noon, so Mandy signaled for them all to head back to the rafts and paddle across the river to the Lathrop Canyon campsite. The whole time they had been on the cliffside, she and Kendra had scanned the river for other boats but neither of them had seen any.

  They were totally alone.

  _____

  After they beached at Lathrop Canyon, tying off their rafts next to Rob’s containing Alex’s body, Mandy led the group to the campsite. She saw Cool and Les sitting at one of the picnic tables in the shade. “Where’s Rob?”

  “Not back yet,” Cool said.

  Worry started to nibble on Mandy’s psyche. “How long has he been gone?”

  Cool checked his watch. “Over an hour.”

  Mandy looked toward the back of the campsite, where the trail took off, with hands on her hips. “Maybe I should send someone after him.” She hoped he wasn’t injured. They had agreed he wouldn’t take more than an hour to look for hikers on the trail.

  Just then Rob appeared around the bend, his steps plodding and dejected.

  “Any luck?” Mandy yelled.

  Rob shook his head. Once he was near, he said, “The trail was deserted, and there’s no evidence that anyone’s been at the campsite here in days. The latrine doesn’t even smell. This isn’t a very popular hiking trail even in season.”

  “Kendra and I didn’t see anyone on the river from the ruins either.” Mandy chewed on her lip. “I guess our only choice is to keep moving.”

  She scanned the campsite. The women clients had already spied the latrine, the last they would find on the river before the Hite Marina, and they were making good use of it. Kendra was setting up the handwashing station for them to use afterward. Cool and Gonzo were carrying lunch supplies to the picnic tables.

  The next thing she saw made her heart lurch. She grabbed Rob’s arm. “Look.” Diana and Hal had walked to the river bank. They stood there silently hugging each other in front of the body bag in Rob’s raft.

  When Amy made a move to join them, Alice stopped her and said, “Let them be.” She put her arms around her sister and held her stoically while Amy cried into her shoulder. Les joined them and put his arms around both of them.

  “I wish we could do something for them,” Mandy said.

  Rob gave Mandy’s hand a squeeze. “So do I, but I think all we can do now is feed everyone and get back on the river.” He walked toward the picnic tables and Mandy followed.

  The rest of the clients took seats at one of the picnic tables where Gonzo had put out tortilla chips and salsa. They picked at the food while waiting for the guides to finish preparing the rest of the meal. As she laid luncheon meats and sliced cheeses on a plate, Mandy looked around at the quiet knots of people in the campground.

  Could one of them really have killed Alex? And why set up an elaborate bear attack scene, when conking him on the head with a rock that presumably could have fallen from the nearby formation was enough? Did the killer want him to suffer?

  She knew from past experience that murderers often didn’t look or act any differently from normal people in a casual setting. But she still couldn’t help scanning their faces. She hoped to spot some clue, some window opening onto a soul that was twisted enough to not only kill a fellow human being, but to plan out that killing so it looked like a bear attack.

  Who could do that?

  She really wished she could pull Rob aside to talk about Betsy’s observations, but there wasn’t a private enough place here, out of earshot and sight of everyone else. She stepped back from the finished buffet and announced lunch was served. The group dined on make-your-own submarine sandwiches and pickles while chipmunks scampered through the tree branches and scanned the ground for dropped crumbs. Hal, Diana, and Amy just picked at their food, barely eating anything. During the meal, the rest of the group dithered over whether they should stay at Lathrop Canyon and camp there, waiting for someone to appear.

  “The problem is that the rafting season is officially over now,” Rob said. “As far as I know, we’re the only commercial trip on the river this week. So, we’d be counting on private boaters coming by. On this section of the Colorado, that probably means they’re not under power and probably don’t have any way of calling out either. They may not be of any real help.”

  “And if we stay here tonight,” Cool said, “we’d have to make up the time we lose
here, so we can still meet our pickup powerboat. That would mean skipping the climbing and hiking activities we planned for later in the trip. You folks all paid for those activities, and they’re probably why you chose to go on this trip.”

  And it’s why Cool was hired to come along. Mandy detected a note of disappointment in his words.

  Betsy, Viv, and Mo all nodded. Their faces bore disappointed frowns, but the women just looked at each other and kept their mouths shut. Mandy decided they probably felt voicing their opinions in the context of the Anderson family’s tragedy would be seen as too selfish.

  Elsa had no such qualms. “Yes, I’d really be miffed if I couldn’t do any more climbing.”

  And Elsa would be even more miffed when Mandy questioned her about her tryst with Alex, but it was something Mandy planned to do as soon as she could get the woman alone.

  “But I’ve got another question,” Elsa continued. “I also signed up for this trip for the whitewater rafting. If someone does appear who can get word out, are you going to cut the whole trip short?”

  Mandy hesitated and glanced at Rob. Everyone would want refunds if that happened, and the trip would become a loss—a huge loss. One that would really hurt their fledgling joint outfitter business. Then she felt guilty for her thoughts. They had to do whatever was best for the Anderson family, regardless of the cost.

  “We might split up at that point,” she said. “Whoever wants to leave can, and the others can continue down the river. Depending on when and if that happens and how many choose to stay or go, we guides would have to do some juggling to make it all work.”

  “We would already have to do a lot of replanning if we camp here,” Cool said. “It would change where we camp every night from now on, so we’d have to scout out new beach locations. The campsites we find might be sketchy.”

  “Could we just extend the trip by a day?” Mo asked. “Wait here until tomorrow at lunch time, then if no one passes by, continue on with what you had planned for this afternoon?”

  Mandy shook her head. “With our radio busted, we don’t have any way to reschedule our pickup. And, we don’t have enough food and water.”