by Rachel Lee
She wanted to scowl at him but stifled the urge. She might not like it, but he was right.
On the way back down, her thoughts started drifting. There was Bears Ears National Monument, recently protected, and even more recently opened up to drilling. Some of her colleagues were having fits because there was a rich fossil bed there that included the full skeletons of some Triassic-era crocodilians. The loss of such a site would be immeasurable. They’d already had one theft of half a skull, and complete skulls such as they had at Bears Ears were rarer than gold. What if someone came in here and chiseled out half her egg, the part that was easy to reach? The remains might become nearly worthless.
Somehow she had to get to the root of this. Put a stop to it. Protect all the scientific knowledge that was awaiting a careful exposure.
Damn!
Then Cope startled her. “You have the prettiest frown. But then you’re pretty regardless.”
Her immediate response was to disagree. “I’m covered in dust!”
“Part of the appeal. Now tell me I’m out of line, boss. Oh, wait, you’re the boss so you can’t make a pass at me. I’m just a volunteer...”
If it was his intention, he succeeded. She released a laugh and felt the tension lift a bit. “Which way does sexual harassment go?”
That provided an interesting discussion as they descended to camp.
* * *
Stockman watched them leave and decided to call Broadus that night. Clearly he hadn’t scared them off and might need to go further. Just how much further, he didn’t know. Broadus had been clear that nobody better die, because it was Native American land and the Feds would be all over it.
Even Stockman didn’t need anyone to explain why they didn’t want the Feds involved. Those guys were worse than burrs. Once they made up their minds something was going on, they wouldn’t let go until they’d found the dust in every nook and cranny anywhere. And worse, if you ever opened your yap to them and then didn’t repeat yourself exactly, they could get you on lying to them.
Hell, who wouldn’t lie to a Fed? Everyone wanted to cover their butts. So you had to be a clam. Stockman wasn’t all that good at being a clam. He could manage it for just so long.
So no, no Feds. Tribal lands, major crime and, apparently from what Broadus said, that added up to FBI.
Part of Stockman wished he had known that before he agreed to this job. Stirring up a little trouble was one thing. Getting into it with serious law enforcement was another.
He muttered a few cusswords to himself, taking pleasure in the fact that since only trees and small animals would hear him, no one could get annoyed.
Life had come to a sorry state when a man couldn’t utter four-letter words without receiving frowns of disapproval. Dang, those were useful words.
“Limited vocabulary,” his mother the English teacher used to sniff. “You need to be more creative with your language.”
Creative how? He’d never figured out that one.
Chapter 8
They had quite a convocation around the campfire that night. Renee had advised the students who followed Larry into town to stay until they knew more about what had happened. Nobody argued with her.
That left the sheriff; the two deputies, Sanchez and Marcus; Claudia, who was beginning to bite her lip; and Cope and Renee.
It was enough. Cope took over making boxes of black beans and rice for dinner, while Sanchez made a huge amount of coffee in the large camp pot.
Everyone was quiet, and Renee had the distinct feeling that no one wanted to address what had happened today. As if speaking about it would make it more real. But it was already real. Larry was in the hospital. Word was he’d be released in the morning, but Renee doubted he’d be able to hobble his way up to the work site. One down.
She gnawed her lip as everyone took recycled paper plates and filled them with beans and rice. Coffee immediately followed and soon they were all gathered around. Still silent.
“We know it was no accident,” she said finally, finding her voice. “We’ve been pretty sure of that since the slide earlier today. The question is, did we find out anything useful, and is this the game of And then there were none?”
“Whoa,” Dalton said.
“Yeah,” Cope added. “No way to be sure that anyone was supposed to be hurt.”
Her hand tightened on the cheap tin fork she held. “Maybe not. But you’re sure it was no accident.”
“No,” Claudia said quietly. “Someone worked hard to find a crevice and loosen that stone. Whether they expected such a large fall, or there to be one down below, I don’t know.”
Renee drilled her with a look. “How could the lower slide be an accident if it happened first?”
Claudia gave her a look that spoke volumes of sympathy, even as she took a professional tone. “Renee, that lower slide was probably not even intended. You know part of that lip tumbled sometime over the winter. It may have just been a bit insecure. So some banging around above might have shaken it loose enough to finish the job.”
Renee shook her head, not denying it but still not certain she could accept the accident theory.
“Vibrations,” Claudia said. “We’ve talked about how an earthquake affects the entire planet. People aren’t truly appreciative of how those vibrations pass through rock. Someone chipping away above sent vibrations spreading out. They didn’t need to be big vibrations. My opinion is that they reached a weakened spot on the lower lip. It was set up, accidentally, before we even got there this morning. Maybe sooner. We were driving some pegs into that rock face, too. More vibrations. Even with the chipping around that someone did above, all of that could have happened at any time, including when we weren’t even there. Like the middle of the night.”
At last Renee released her breath and let her shoulders relax. “But it was deliberate.”
“Oh, no mistaking that,” Claudia answered. “Someone wants to shut down this dig.”
“The question,” said Cope, “becomes why.”
“I agree,” said the sheriff, speaking at last. “The Bear brothers are keeping watch tonight, but I’m not sure the message hasn’t already been sent. My men are going to start nosing around for anything unusual in the area, but without a clue as to why this should be happening...” He shrugged. “I make no promises.”
“How well do you know Loren Butler?” Renee asked him.
“Pretty well. Why? Has he done something?”
“He showed up today, said he’d noticed the helicopter. He also came by the first day we started digging.”
Gage shook his head. “I’ve known that man for thirty years. He doesn’t strike me as the sort to get involved in something like this. Most who know him consider him to be forthright and as honest as the day is long.”
“That was my impression, especially today,” Renee admitted. “But we haven’t seen anyone else around.”
“Nobody has. Doesn’t mean he’s not there somewhere.”
Cope, who’d been listening and saying little, finally entered the conversation. “All we have to go on is that it’s very likely someone doesn’t want this dig to continue. That leaves a whole range of suspects.”
Renee met those blue eyes of his, now reflecting some of the red from the firelight, sort of like the wolf had the other night. “Meaning?”
“Well, it could be a tribal member who doesn’t want to see sacred land torn up. It could be someone who doesn’t want to see this part of the mountain become a point of interest for tourists. Not that I think a whole lot of people would go out of their way to get here. I’m just spitballing. I suppose there could be a lot of other reasons.”
“Mining,” said Claudia.
Renee’s head whipped around. “Did you find something?”
“Nothing yet that would make an all-out war with the tribe attractive. I’m still
waiting for all the data, though. It’s entirely possible the unscrupulous would want this land for those reasons.”
Cope spoke. “Isn’t tribal land protected from that? Unless the tribe wants the mining?”
“Look around you,” Renee said. “I told you about Bears Ears.”
“But that was a national park,” Claudia reminded her. “Easier to take away the protections. Still...” She frowned. “Anyway, we don’t know what this is about. Mining seems like a stretch right now, but that could change.”
Shortly after they cleaned up, Deputy Marcus took the bag of trash and put it in the back end of his SUV. “Less to attract bears,” he remarked as he slammed the tailgate shut. “You want, I can stay tonight with the Dasher.”
“Thanks so much,” Renee said, “but Cope and I will be fine. I think the action is over for today, especially with Short and Tall walking the area up in the mountains.”
“I agree,” said Cope. “Plus, I’ve been in worse situations.”
Renee urged everyone else to head into town for the night. “I’ll worry a lot less, okay?”
They exchanged good-nights and Renee watched the taillights fade into the extremely lightless Wyoming night. It was time for the quarter moon, but it hadn’t risen yet. Darkness closed around them like a thick, muffling blanket. There must be clouds above, because the usual diamond scattering of stars didn’t show.
She felt a warm hand take hers and she looked toward Cope. There were still enough embers from the nearby fire to highlight his face, making him seem mysterious. Without a word, he drew her close and wrapped her snugly in his arms.
“We’ll get through this,” he said, his breath warm against her ear. “Whatever we’re up against, he’s a novice. Everyone’s giving him too much credit. He accidentally hurt Larry. Which brought the attention of the police. I’m sure he didn’t want that. No, you were supposed to scatter and run because the ground is unstable. Except you’re not stupid and you’re not a rabbit. So we’ll find him and deal with him.”
His embrace was so comforting. His words and voice were soothing. She just wished she were capable of believing in them.
But she wasn’t. Whoever was behind this wasn’t going to walk away simply because she and her team kept digging.
“He’ll try something worse.”
“Maybe. We’ll see. But this time we’ll be prepared.”
“How?”
“I’ll show you in the morning. In the meantime, I suggest we let Short and Tall do their thing up there, and we get some rest down here. Tomorrow could wind up being a very long day.”
The sound of a wolf’s howl pierced the night. Beautiful, forlorn and solitary. A warning or a promise?
“They don’t seem to be far away tonight.”
“Let me build up the fire a bit. Come on. It’ll push the dark things back.”
As simply as that she found them sitting side by side before dancing flames while he held her hand. And it felt so darn natural.
* * *
For a little while, Cope didn’t speak. He loved the quiet of the night woods, the sound of wind sighing in the tree tops. There were plenty of animals busy out there, following their nocturnal lives, but they were quiet about it, even more quiet than the animals in the daytime. During that time many animals were large enough to ignore the hawks that might fly over, or even each other if they avoided a direct confrontation. At night many of the animals were smaller, and they didn’t want to attract the attention of an owl or some other predator for whom they’d make a nice snack.
The dividing line between night and day created whole different worlds.
“It was a tough day,” he remarked after a while. “Long, exhausting. Mainly because of fear.” Her fingers felt so small within his grasp. Yet she was a powerful woman. Of that he had no doubt.
“Do you get afraid?” she asked.
“Hell, yeah. Do I look like a robot?”
At least that pulled a small laugh from her. He squeezed her hand, then eased his grip. He was willing to bet that a day like today had never been a part of her plan. He’d seen her excitement more than once over the last year about these fossils. Now today she’d been faced with an injured intern and a clear attempt by persons unknown to interfere with her discoveries.
What should have been simple and endlessly fascinating may have become seriously dangerous. Sticky. Now she’d have to make all kinds of mental and emotional adjustments, and he wondered how long that would take and the kind of changes she’d make.
Right now she was sitting in the dark next to a man she didn’t know very well, all alone basically, dealing with today’s events and trying to piece things together. A far cry from the evenings the team had spent around the campfire chatting, telling stories, looking forward to the next day.
Was she even able to look forward now? He suspected it would take a helluva lot more to make her abandon the site, but how much more? And what if someone wanted to push it to that limit?
Was she sitting there wondering if people would die? Possibly feeling selfish?
Damn, he didn’t know of any way to get inside her head. His years of experience in the Marines had been a whole different ball of wax. Zipped up, tight-lipped, rarely did anyone spill their guts. Not that he thought Renee needed to spill her guts, but he didn’t even have a can opener in his tool kit to get her to spill just a little of what she was thinking.
Maybe it was none of his business, but the simple fact was that he cared. Worse, it was beginning to feel like more than a casual caring. And that was probably the furthest thing from her mind right now.
Besides, he’d dated often enough to know he didn’t seem to have anything a woman truly wanted. The minute things began to get heavy, the minute bits of his past eased their way out, they seemed all too happy to move on. He was no beast, but he certainly had some uncivilized parts to him.
He stifled a sigh and forced his attention back to the really important matters. “Got a plan?”
That made her laugh again, but it was no cheerful sound. “Plan for what? I can’t prevent another rockslide, so I can’t protect my team. Maybe I should just send everyone home and work on this on my own.”
He hesitated. “We may be able to do something about the rockslides.”
She turned to look at him, her expression almost painfully hopeful. “How?”
“I asked Gage to talk to our road engineer, Blaine Harrigan. I’m sure he’s dealt with situations like this when they cut a new road.”
“Oh, that would be great!”
“I’m not making any promises. There might be reasons he can’t do anything about this, from cost to equipment. But I thought it made sense to put my finger in the wind. If nothing else, Blaine might have some ideas.”
She nodded, but some of the distress slipped off her face, letting it smooth a bit. “Even if he just has some ideas. Cope, our time is so limited here. I don’t want to let this go another winter. Everything that opened up might close again.” She hesitated. “Then, of course, we have to clear everything with the tribe. Sacred ground is serious stuff.”
Almost as if summoned by their conversation, Gray Cloud emerged from the night and into the reddish firelight. “Sacred ground is serious indeed,” he answered her, “and someone messed with it.”
“Pull up a chair and join us,” Renee suggested. “I think we’ve still got some hot coffee.” Indeed the pot was sitting on a rock by the fire.
“No, thanks.” He pulled over a chair, though, and sat facing them across the fire. “The Bears told me what they found up there. Someone was jimmying along a crack.”
“So it seems,” Cope answered.
“He’d better get his tail down off that mountain then,” Gray Cloud said without a hint of humor. Dead serious.
Renee squirmed a little, Cope noticed, but didn’t say anything. Then
Gray Cloud smiled.
“You don’t believe me, Renee. That’s fine. I hope you never have reason to.”
He waved an arm upward. “This mountain is older than mankind, older than types of animals it shelters right now. That’s why you want to dig out those fossils.”
“True,” she agreed.
Cope watched, waiting. He knew more was coming. It had to be. Gray Cloud wasn’t much of a talker, but when he spoke he had more than a few words to say.
“Mountains are some of the oldest dwellers on this planet,” he continued. “These particular mountains are younger than many, but their ages are still staggering. Among the first was Thunder Mountain.”
Renee leaned forward. “How do you know that?”
“The mountain speaks to those who listen.” He said it the same way someone might have said the sky was blue. “Whether you listen or not, Thunder Mountain is aware. Whether you believe in it or not, the mountain can defend itself. Treat it with respect. Someone has failed to do that. For some reason the mountain opened a cleft full of treasures for those who appreciate those treasures. Someone has tried to interfere.”
Renee nodded slowly. Cope had felt during his time in Afghanistan that at least some of those mountains had been alive and aware. He’d put it down to being weary to the bone, but the locals had been of a different opinion. He was certain that Renee’s scientific background rebelled against these ideas as much as his did, but at this point in his life he was prepared to keep an open mind about a whole lot, including this mountain.
Renee stirred and he realized she was still holding on to his hand, as if she didn’t care that anyone saw. What did that mean, if anything?
“Why is it called Thunder Mountain?”
Gray Cloud smiled. “Because sometimes it speaks, Renee. Not very often, and few of us have a memory of it even though we have stories handed down. But there was a time I can remember. A perfectly cloudless day and without warning, the mountain spoke. Thunder rolled down its sides, deafening. Then the sound was gone and we wondered about it. We’re still wondering, but it happened. After that the wolves appeared, so maybe the mountain was welcoming them. Make of it what you will. I’m not trying to convert you to my way of thinking, but I’ve heard the mountain speak in many ways, most of them not that loud.”