by Nancy Cupp
“Yes, they did. Unfortunately she’s dead.”
“Dead—that’s awful! What happened to her, do you know?” gasped Margret.
“I don’t know what happened, but I suspect that someone wanted to kill her.”
“Somebody? I found her necklace, it seems like so long ago—I gave it back to the ranger when he said she was missing.”
Joseph got up, “You must be tired, I know I am. I’ll show you where you can sleep.” He led her to a small back bedroom.
Before she went in she asked, “Joseph, did you put anything into my backpack?”
Surprised, he answered, “No, of course not—you had enough trouble carrying what you had.”
“Okay, I just thought it seemed like there was something extra in there—good night.” Margret was grateful for the safe warm bed, and she fell asleep almost as soon as she hit the sheets.
The next morning everyone was up early. Mrs. Parks prepared a simple, but delicious breakfast of pancakes with fruit syrup and coffee. When they were ready to leave, Joseph carried Margret’s pack out to the truck and put it in the back. “I won’t be going with you today. Grandma has lots of stuff for me to get done around here. I’m glad I met you—we had a good adventure together.”
Margret frowned, “I probably won’t ever see you again. Thanks for all your help—you saved my life. I wish I could keep in touch somehow.”
Joseph smiled, “We do have internet! You can send me an e-mail—I’ll answer you.” They exchanged e-mail addresses, then Joseph and Julie each gave her a hug. Margret climbed in the pick-up next to Mr. Parks.
“All ready to go?”
“Yes sir!” she said, waving as they drove off.
25
Sam Parks
On the drive down to the valley, Sam talked about some history of the Ahwahnechee people. “There was a large Indian Nation living here for centuries. They were called the Miwok band. The tribe was divided by the Merced River.”
“Is that the river that goes through the valley? The one that makes the waterfall by the Mist Trail?”
“Yes. That waterfall is Vernal Falls, above it is Nevada Falls.”
“I tried to go to Half Dome that way, but I got lost.”
Sam chuckled, “You need to learn to follow the signs that point the way. It wouldn’t have been good to be on Half Dome in the snowstorm anyway—you’d still be up there.”
“Good thing Joseph rescued me.”
“Yes, it was. Back to the Miwok—the two tribes were the Grizzly bear group to the North and the Coyote clan to the South. It was tradition for the young men of one clan to marry a woman from the other. That way we were kept strong and healthy.”
“Where did the name Ahwahnechee come from?”
“Ah-wah-nee means deep grass valley. It became the name that was used for people from the southern clan. Ahwahnechee.”
“What does Yosemite mean?”
“There once was a young chief that got in a fight with a bear. They battled long and hard until the chief finally won the fight. He dragged the bear’s skin back to his village. The people went and got the rest of the bear and had a big feast. The young chief was then known as Yo Semite. Semite means bear.”
As they followed the twisting Tioga Road, Sam told Margret about how it came to be there. “This road was a rough path through the wilderness. It was built by men that were seeking gold. The Calvary improved it when they moved the Native People out of the area. Later it became a way for tourists to see the park. Many thousands travel on it every year now.”
“So—is it a good thing this is a National Park now?”
“Yes, I think so. Otherwise greedy men would have destroyed it trying to dig out little bits of gold. They tried to destroy it by cutting all the lumber they could, but the trees were so big, they were too difficult to handle. Men like John Muir worked hard to preserve the park. But he also wrote such beautiful words about all the wonders here, that it caused many, many tourists to come.”
“I guess everything changes.”
“Yes, but we must work hard to hold on to the things that make us who we are. They are far more valuable than all the gold that might be in the rocks.”
☙
When Sam and Margret got to the valley he dropped her off at Camp Curry. Then he went to see George Sheffield. Extending his hand, Sam said, “Hello, my name is Sam Parks. I received an E-mail saying you wanted to talk to me?”
“Oh yes! Please sit down Sam. I just have a few questions about last Monday. As you are probably are aware by now, Patty Waters was killed Monday night. Were you at the meeting, held here, on Monday night?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Could you give me a brief description of the meeting?”
Sam told Captain Sheffield the same thing that all of the others had told him, but then he produced a small key and laid it on the table. “This is the key that will open the case Patty took home with her.”
“When did you leave the meeting?”
“I was the last one to leave, except Patty, she stayed and locked up.”
“Did you see her leave the building?”
“Yes, sir, I was sitting in my pickup truck, and I saw her walk toward the back of the building. There’s a path through the woods that goes toward the cabins where she lives.”
“Why didn’t you leave right away?”
“I was wasting time. My grandson, Joseph, rode down with me, and I agreed to pick him up around ten. He has a girlfriend that works at the Ahwahanee.”
“What is her name?”
“Miranda Witfield.”
“Did you go home right after you picked him up?”
“I didn’t pick him up right away. He wasn’t at the place we agreed to meet yet, so I drove near Patty’s place, then walked by her cabin. I was concerned about her walking alone.”
“And was she at home?”
“No. When I got there the cabin was dark. There were no lights inside or out and I tripped on something on the steps. I picked it up, I think it’s her briefcase, but it’s all beat up.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I gave it to my Grandson and had him bring it home by the back country trail. I knew it would be safe with him in the back country. No one would know where he was, and if they followed me they wouldn’t get it. I’d still be able to get it to the court house the next day.”
“But the papers were never filed at the courthouse—I checked.”
“No, sir. Joseph was delayed for a day, by the snow, and because he helped a lost hiker he met on the way.”
“What was the hiker’s name?”
“Margret Malone.”
“Really—where is she now?” Captain Sheffield made a note.
“I gave her a ride. I dropped her off at Camp Curry.”
“Where’s the brief case now?”
“In my truck.”
“I need to place you under arrest, you have the right to remain silent…”
26
Slippery Slope
Karen caught up to Bo near the top of Yosemite Falls. He was baying, and very animated. She could see glimpses of him as he bounded back and forth from rock to rock. He has something, she thought, scrambling up over the boulders. The roar of the water almost drowned out Bo’s excited yelping. Karen caught her breath when she saw how close to the rushing torrent of water he was.
The Granite where the water plunged over the cliff was polished to a glossy sheen. Millions of years of glacial ice had scoured and shaped the rocks into a surface as smooth as a polished tombstone.
Aware of how steeply angled and slippery the wet rocks under her feet were. Karen inched along, fearful she’d slip and be sucked into the current and over the falls.
Unable to get close enough to see what her dog had found, Karen sat on a large rock. She braced her feet against the root of a gnarled Jaffrey Pine that managed to grow out of a tiny crevice.
She dug Bo’s leash out of her backpack, and used it t
o anchor herself to the twisted tree trunk. She eased along the edge of the water holding the leash, but her left foot slipped on the wet mossy surface.
Karen grimaced with pain, as she went down hard on one knee, wrenching her arm. She managed to pull herself back up, her feet scrambling and slipping to gain traction. She clung to the branches of the pine, her breath coming in gasps. She closed her eyes, taking a few moments to gather her courage.
Bo came bounding over, drool stringing out of his mouth, his tongue hanging out. He whined, and was off again, back to the same area. When her legs quit trembling, Karen sat down and slid along a crevice toward Bo.
When she finally got close to her dog, he was poking his head into a narrow fissure in the rock. His tail and trembling hindquarters flagging his find.
The crack between the sides of the solid rock was no more than two feet across at its widest point. It extended for, what Karen estimated to be, eighteen feet or so. She sat down on the edge of the fissure, bracing her feet on the smooth rim. With her flashlight, she swept a beam of light down as far as she could.
She could see nothing but darkness in the narrow void, so she inched along the crack a little further, and tried again. The third time she flashed the beam into the blackness she saw a twisted body wedged between the walls of the narrow chasm.
The sight of the headless body was repulsive. Karen turned away, and retched until she was weak. When she recovered, she dragged herself, trembling, to a place that was safe to stand up and walk.
Bo came to her, and she snapped the leash back on his collar, his signal that his job was done. Karen lavished praise on him and fed him treats. Karen and Bo were exhausted, and he lay sleeping at her feet when she radioed in her findings.
☙
News of the discovered body put the entire force of personnel, and a helicopter on the move. Everyone that could be of use was airlifted to a clear area close to the scene. The steady chop of helicopter blades split the air as it shuttled the team, one by one, out of the valley.
Doug was the first to arrive in order to organize and disperse the team. The group that gathered was both excited to get started, and somber at the thought of the task ahead of them.
Karen saw the helicopter landing, and made her way through the thick pine forest. The team would need her information. She tied bright pink markers to branches as she walked. When she broke out of the woods onto the relatively flat mountain top, Doug spotted her and Bo.
“Karen! Over here,” he called, waving her over. Bo flopped down at their feet when they shook hands and exchanged information.
“You’ll need to block off Indian canyon, Bo found evidence of a trail through there,” Karen relayed. “The body is down in a crevice that runs along the edge of the river. Your team will need to have climbing gear and ropes for protection while they get down there. The rocks are really slick.” Karen gave details of where her markers were so the spot could easily be found.
“You—and Bo did a great job, we couldn’t get along without you two.”
“Thanks Doug,” Karen said, “this one got to me. If you have enough information to go on, we’re done here. We both need some rest.”
“Yeah, of course, take the next ride back to the valley. Will the dog be okay in the chopper?”
“He doesn’t like it, but he does what I ask him to do. I’ve got some DNA to turn in, I think the killer left us enough to convict on if we can match it.”
“Great! Go get some rest. I hear the chopper coming back.”
Karen and Bo sat down to wait while the chopper broke the stillness of the late afternoon air. Two ravens, on a branch above them, scolded and complained about their peaceful sanctuary being disrupted. Karen allowed herself a moment to cry. She hugged her big floppy dog for comfort, and he gave her a slobbery lick, wiping the tears off her face.
27
Miranda Whitfield
Deputy Smith had been sent to the Ahawhanee Hotel to speak with Miranda Whitfield. “Ms. Whitfield,” he said, showing his badge as he approached the desk.
“Yes?”
“Miranda Whitfield?”
“Yes, how can I help you?” She wasn’t surprised to see a uniformed officer since the entire park was under investigation.
“I have a few questions I’d like to ask you, if you have a moment.”
“Sure,” said Miranda, motioning to her assistant to watch the desk. “We can sit over there,” pointing to the soft chairs near the fireplace. The lobby was usually teaming with guests at this time of the day, but it was almost deserted now. The guests had been sent out of the park as one by one they were interviewed and released, their whereabouts on Monday night checked and verified.
“How can I help you?” She said, sinking into one of the comfortable chairs.
Deputy Smith sat on the edge of his seat, his back straight. “Do you know a man by the name of Joseph Parks?”
Miranda’s face colored, “Yes.”
“How do you know him?”
“I—he—I guess he’s my boyfriend.”
“You guess? Have you known him long?”
“We started seeing each other, let’s see now—since June I think. Yeah, because our second date was on the Fourth of July.”
“Did you see Mr. Parks this week?”
“Yeah, he stopped by the desk Monday night around five, and waited in the lobby until six, when I got off work. We went for a walk and talked, then had a snack at the coffee shop. Why?”
“And what time did he leave?” Asked the deputy, taking notes.
“Let’s see, his grandfather stopped by at—um, around ten—ten-thirty. He left after that. But why do you want to know about Joseph?”
“He left with his grandfather?”
“No, he said he was walking. His grandfather gave him something, and he had a backpack in the truck.”
“Does he know Margret Malone?”
“How should I know? I don’t think so—Malone?” She looked puzzled “Where do I know that from? Um—oh yeah, some guy by the name of Malone called the desk to see if his daughter was staying at the hotel.”
“And was she here?”
“I told him she wasn’t on the register—but you know? I can’t watch everybody in the park. I told him about our cell phone service, seems like they could put a tower some place, like on Half Dome or something—you know?”
“Did he leave a number, or say where he was from?”
“I wouldn’t have kept it anyway. She wasn’t a guest so she’s not my problem. At least I don’t think she’s my problem. What’s she got to do with Joseph?”
“Thank you Ms. Witfield, that’s all I needed—oh if Mr. Malone calls back could you give him my number and tell him to call right away?” Deputy Smith got up and handed her his card. He snapped to attention, and turning on his heel walked briskly to the door.
“Criminey!” She mumbled to herself, and slumped back into the deep cushions of the chair, “Now I got that to worry about. Who’s this Margret girl that’s hanging around Joseph anyway?”
28
The Weapon
Margret dumped her back-pack in the middle of the floor in her yurt. She rolled out her sleeping bag, then rummaged in her pack for the remaining snacks. There was a partial bag of Skittles, some crushed crackers, and a half-jar of peanut butter.
She chewed on her bottom lip, contemplating what to have for lunch. Unsatisfied with what was left, it was clear she’d need to shop at the camp store for more food.
She remembered a food court where she’d be able to get a hot dog and maybe some ice cream for lunch. She grabbed what was left of her snacks and dumped them in the bear proof container outside.
The park is so quiet, she thought. Where is everyone? Margret only saw a couple of people walking toward the restrooms and an empty maroon and white sheriff’s car parked near the shuttle bus stop. She waited for the bus hoping to save her poor aching feet.
A deer with a wide rack of horns wandered out of the wo
ods and walked across the road, sniffing the pavement as he went. Unconcerned, he stepped into the meadow on the far side of the empty road. Margret was mesmerized by how tame the wild life was, watching the buck as he ate.
After twenty minutes Margret gave up waiting for the shuttle bus, and decided to walk. There was a lot of helicopter racket coming from the far side of the valley. A shiver ran through her as she remembered the park was in the middle of a murder investigation. She felt a pang of loneliness and the need to contact home.
It’s been a great adventure, she thought, but I’ve had enough. There could be a murderer around here. I need to get on the next bus home. Lance will know when I can get a bus out of here. She headed toward his office and the food stands.
She walked briskly, happy to be free from dragging her stuff around with her. I may have even dropped a little weight, Margret thought, smiling. To her dismay, the food stands and store were closed.
No wonder I’m losing weight, she thought, her mind wandering back to the wonderful meal that Julie Parks had made. Margret turned and went directly to Lance’s office. I hope he’s back, she thought. This is getting creepy—like one of those TV shows where there’s only one person left.
When Margret got to the Camp Curry office, there was an officer on the steps, talking to Lance. When he saw her, Lance smirked, and said, “Well speak of the devil—I see you got back here all right.”
Deputy Smith whirled around, “Are you Margret Malone?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to come with me for questioning.”
“Questioning for what?”
“Your name has come up several times in the course of questioning.”
“What? I’m just a tourist. I don’t know anything.”
“She knows that Joseph Parks character you asked about, and I bet she knows Sam Parks too,” interjected Lance.
“Yeah—Sam Parks gave me a ride back down here. And Joseph helped me when I got lost. But you know that, Lance.”