Minnie Crockwell - Will Travel for Trouble 03 - Trouble at Glacier

by Minnie Crockwell

  I made myself a sandwich with plans of eating it outside on the picnic bench. Twilight settled on the park, and the sunny blue skies and green trees of the day now turned to soft blues and dark monochrome foliage.

  I munched on my food in silence and listened to the sounds of the forest. In the distance, I could hear voices of other campers, but I couldn’t make out any distinct words. Just the general hum of campers making dinner and enjoying an evening outdoors.

  “It’s peaceful here,” I said to Ben.

  Yes, it is.

  And just when you least expect something, it happens. I looked up, and there in the trees on the other side of my campsite stood a dark figure, eyes gleaming from the lights of my RV windows. A black bear.

  I choked on my food and swallowed hard.

  Do not move, Minerva. The animal is only curious. No doubt he has smelled your food.

  Should I leave it for him and head for the RV, Ben? I spoke silently.

  The bear watched me, without motion.

  No, do not leave your food for him, Ben said. That will only encourage him to approach you again for food, perhaps more aggressively next time. From his behavior, I do not think he means to attack. However, if he does begin to advance, you should shout and wave your arms at him, all the while slowly backing toward the RV. Do not run or he may chase you.

  I wish I hadn’t taken my camera out of my pocket, I mourned. I kept a wary eye on the bear as he continued to watch me. Although I had fervently hoped to see him, I hadn’t expected the fear that the bear’s dark presence elicited. The camera didn’t matter after all. I wasn’t about to send a flash in the bear’s direction.

  Is this a good time to say that I’m kind of scared, Ben?

  I know you are, Minerva, but I do not think you are in danger. I think you may safely back toward your RV if you wish.

  Just then, the bear turned and darted off into the dark.

  I rose on shaky knees.

  “Okay, that was much scarier than I thought it was going to be. I wonder what spooked him.”

  Less than a minute later, a guttural scream broke the night, and ended quickly as if it had been cut off. I gasped.

  “What was that?” I squeaked. If Ben had been alive, I would have jumped into his arms.

  I do not know. I cannot see in the dark. I suggest you return to the RV, Minerva, at once!

  I resisted his advice.

  “It sounded like more than just fear,” I said. “My guess is someone saw the bear, too, but that scream was blood curdling. And it doesn’t sound like it ended well. You don’t think the bear attacked someone, do you?”

  I cannot say. Stay here. I will go investigate.

  “Oh, no! I’m coming too. Let me grab my flashlight!”

  I opened my RV door and grabbed the flashlight I kept stowed in the back pocket of the passenger’s seat.

  I think it best you stay, Minerva.

  “I know, Ben, I know you want to protect me, but I can’t stay. I just can’t. I have to see what’s going on!”

  I flicked on the flashlight and moved slowly in the direction of where I thought the scream had originated. I heard voices nearby, as if other people were also coming to investigate. Other lights illuminated the dark woods at the inner core of the campground loop.

  My foot hit something hard but pliant, and I fell over whatever it was, dropping my flashlight in the process.

  “Ben, what was that?” I gasped as I grabbed my flashlight and jumped up, shining it on the ground.

  Oh, my dear Minerva, this cannot be possible! Not again!

  My light revealed that I had tripped over a body, a human. I knew I would never forget the horrible sight of the mutilation of the man’s neck.

  And it was definitely a man. It was my neighbor, John, and there was no doubt from his open eyes that he was dead.

  Chapter Two

  I opened my mouth to scream but no sound came out. Footsteps approached, and I heard voices. I jerked my light away from the horrific sight.

  “What’s going on?” a man’s voice said. A light shone in my face, and I put up my hand to block it.

  “Could you turn that away from me?” I asked in a weak voice. “There. On the ground.”

  “Sorry,” he said. He moved his light toward the body, and I turned away, my stomach heaving.

  Whoever the man was, he did not gasp as I would have expected. He was silent, unnaturally so, I thought.

  As other campers arrived, I heard the shrieks, cries, hisses, gasps and every other possible noise humans can make when they find a mutilated dead body.

  “The black bear was over near my campsite just a few minutes ago, but he didn’t attack me or anything,” I muttered to anyone in general.

  I assumed from the damage to John’s body that the bear had indeed attacked him. Apparently, I had been lucky.

  The first arrival, the man who shown the light in my face, finally spoke.

  “I’ve got to call the police. Everyone, get back to your RVs right now! Lock the doors and don’t come out. If the bear did attack this man, he may not be done.”

  I finally recognized the voice as Rick Cannon, the campground host.

  Come, Minerva. There is nothing you can do here, Ben said.

  I nodded and turned away, stumbling with rubbery knees on my way back to my RV. I didn’t need to linger to ogle the body. I’d seen more than I wanted to. My heart pounded as I imagined the bear lurking behind every tree, waiting to pounce.

  No bear attacked me on the short distance back to my site, and I climbed into my RV and locked the doors. I looked down at my clothing, ashamed at my relief to find no blood on me. I dropped down onto the couch, tears streaming down my face.

  “Oh, Ben! Could I have prevented that? Should I have tried to scare the bear off? Screamed at it? Found a way to contact the campground host? Called the police? They told me to let them know, but there was no time. Is this my fault?”

  I sobbed and buried my face in a throw pillow.

  No, no, Minerva. This is not your fault. I will admit I am surprised the bear attacked poor John. The animal showed no sign of aggression toward you. Perhaps John startled the beast in the dark, and it struck out at him. It would only take one swing of the bear’s sharp claws to effect that damage.

  “Ugh! So, you don’t think he was eaten?” I looked up as if I could see Ben.

  No, dearest. There was no time, nor do the markings appear to suggest so.

  I shook my head. “I’ll never look at a bear the same way again. Poor Amanda. Maybe I should go see if I can help. She’s just right next door. What if she doesn’t know yet?” I sobbed loudly again.

  Mister Cannon instructed all to return to their RVs and remain inside. An angry bear continues to roam freely. I am sure the authorities will contact young Amanda to apprise her of the situation.

  “You’re right, Ben. Of course, you’re right. Law enforcement will handle it. And her uncle is next door, right? If that is her uncle?”

  If that is indeed her uncle, as you say.

  I covered my face with the pillow and tried to blot the image from my mind.

  “Is it wrong of me to wonder why these things seem to happen when I’m around, Ben? It’s not about me, me, me. I know that! But I’m beginning to wonder if I’m a magnet for death.”

  Nonsense, Minerva! No such thing. A death magnet indeed. Ben’s voice softened. I do not think you have done anything to incite these events but have merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time, as they say. In this case, at least, there is no mystery to solve. John must have been attacked by the black bear that we saw.

  I nodded and sighed, then held my breath and listened for sounds outside of my RV—sounds of another bear attack, running feet, Amanda’s scream next door when she found her husband dead, sirens, but it was eerily silent at the moment.

  I took a deep breath and rose.

  Minerva! Ben warned me.

  I couldn’t help myself. I peeked out the door.


  In the distance, I heard sirens approaching. Although I couldn’t see anything in the darkness, I suspected the park rangers, local law enforcement and an ambulance were on the way. I wondered what would happen to the bear. I’d read enough about bear encounters to know they would search for it and destroy it, especially after it had killed a human.

  I hovered inside the open door, staring into the night.

  Minerva, if I were a frightened, angry bear, I might very well push right past you and hide in your RV. Please close the door.

  I sighed. “You’re right, as usual. It’s just hard sitting here not knowing what’s going on. Why did we come to Glacier National Park again? Remind me.”

  You said you had always wanted to see the park, and so here we are. I too longed to see this wilderness. Try not to let this unfortunate event ruin the rest of your stay here, Minerva. Encounters between humans and wild animals often result in injury to one or the other.

  “I know,” I said. In the dark distance, I saw flashing red and blue lights, and white spotlights from vehicles. I presumed emergency vehicles had arrived at the campground host’s location and moved on foot into the woods.

  “They’re here,” I said mournfully. “The police.”

  Close the door, Minerva. The lights will only frighten the bear more. He was here at your campsite once tonight. He could possibly return.

  I shut the door and returned to the couch. I couldn’t possibly go to sleep, nor was I interested in reading or trying to get my TV satellite to work in the forest.

  Restlessly, I grabbed my laptop computer, popped it open and turned on my mobile Internet device. I scanned the local news, but nothing had been reported yet.

  I drafted an email to my favorite law enforcement person, my ex-husband, chief of police in a small Colorado city. His name was John as well, and I had thought of him off and on ever since I had met John earlier in the day. They shared the same blond hair color. Or Amanda’s John had shared the same color. I bit my lip to hold back more tears.

  Hello ex

  You may remember that I told you I was heading to Glacier National Park for a wonderful week of sightseeing and wildlife viewing. Lo and behold, on my first night here, I saw some wildlife, that’s for sure. A black bear had been wandering the campground, and he came right to the edge of my site. As much as I wanted to see him in daylight, he scared the dickens out of me in the dark.

  He took off and just a few minutes later, I heard a scream in the woods. When I went to find out what happened, I found a camping neighbor dead, his throat slashed, presumably by the same bear. I guess I’m lucky the bear didn’t attack me. I don’t know why he didn’t.

  I don’t know what to think. I’ll keep you updated.

  Your ex-wife

  I sent the email, hoping as usual that Ben had opted not to read over my shoulder.

  Several sharp knocks on the door startled me, and I gasped.

  Bears do not knock, my dear. It appears to be the park rangers you spoke with earlier today.

  I ran to the door.

  Ranger Jackson stood at the foot of my steps, a grim look on his normally smiling face. Ranger Schwin stood beside him.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Miss, but I’m sure you’re aware there’s been an incident in the campground here,” Schwin said. In fact, I heard you discovered the body? Can we come in and talk to you?”

  “Sure,” I said. I stood back and allowed them to enter. Probably over six feet tall, Jackson towered over my five feet three inches. He took off his hat, revealing thick, dark wavy hair. He actually looked a bit like the portrait I had found of Peregrine Ebenezer Alvord of the Corps of Discovery expedition on the Internet…the one I kept on my desk top when I wanted to feel like I knew what Ben looked like.

  He looks like you, Ben, I said silently.

  Nonsense! I am much taller than he. ‘Was’ much taller than he, that is.

  Ummm hmmm, I murmured.

  Schwin removed his hat to reveal short sandy blond hair. Shorter than Jackson, Schwin stood just inside the doorway.

  “Would you like to sit down?” I asked.

  Ranger Jackson shook his head. “No, but you can sit. I’m sure you had quite a shock tonight.”

  “Is the bear still on the loose?” I asked them.

  “Yes,” Jackson said. “He is.”

  Schwin spoke quickly. “We don’t think this was a bear attack though. The markings aren’t quite right, not deep enough. Besides, we know this black bear. He’s never been violent. Rick Cannon said you’d seen the bear tonight?”

  I was stunned, trying to process Schwin’s words. Did he say it wasn’t a bear attack? Then what killed John? What other animal could do that? An owl? Another large bird of prey?

  I nodded. “Yes. I was outside eating a sandwich, and he came to the edge of the campsite. But he stayed in the trees. He watched me for a bit and then took off back into the woods, almost as if he were startled.”

  “So, the bear made no aggressive moves toward you?” Schwin asked.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  Jackson jotted some things down in a notepad before looking up again.

  “Don’t go back outside tonight, miss,” Schwin said. “We’ll have to capture the bear and see if he killed Mr. Nash, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a bear attack.”

  “Nash? Is that his last name?” What I really wanted to ask was ‘if it wasn’t a bear attack, then what did that to him?’ but I didn’t.

  “Does his wife know?” I asked. “Amanda?”

  Jackson looked up sharply.

  “Did you know them?” he asked.

  “Well, I just met them this afternoon. They came by looking for Amanda’s uncle, said he had an RV a lot like mine, and that they were expecting him.”

  “I’m not sure. We can’t find his wife. She’s not in her RV. You said there’s an uncle? Where is he?” Jackson asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I met a man in the next campsite to the right, and he has an RV that looks a lot like mine. I wondered if that was the uncle.”

  “Which RV? Show us.” Schwin opened the door and stepped down. Jackson followed.

  “Well, you can’t see it from here, but it’s that way.” I descended to the top step and pointed to the right.

  “Okay, thanks,” Schwin said. “Stay inside! Lock the door.”

  I watched him flick on a flashlight as he and Jackson strode off to the right.

  “I wish I could see what’s going on. I wonder where Amanda is.”

  And you would like me to discover what is happening, I take it.

  I gave the air above me a sheepish grin.

  “Oh, Ben, would you?”

  Of course, he said with a sigh. I find it hard to deny you anything, madam.

  I knew he was gone, and I shut the door, locked it, and waited on my couch.

  He returned much sooner than I expected.

  The handsome and charming Rangers Jackson and Schwin knock to no avail. The purported uncle is absent from his vehicle.

  “Where could they be? Maybe they’re both at the scene, and the rangers just missed them. It’s so hard to see in the dark.”

  Perhaps. I shall find out.

  He left again, and I opened the door again to peer into the night. I could still see flashing red and blue lights, and several stronger white lights like spotlights. Of course, they would have to light up the area.

  Ben returned quickly.

  Young Amanda and the man we believe to be the uncle are not at the scene, however, men and women in various uniforms wander the area as if searching for something. The deceased has been loaded onto a large white vehicle topped by red and blue lights.

  I nodded. “An ambulance. I wonder what everyone is looking for.”

  I overheard a discussion noting the absence of paw prints. It seems likely that the bear was indeed not the culprit.

  “Well, what on earth would do that to the poor guy?”

  A human?
>
  I gasped and slammed the door shut.

  “Ben! Surely not! How?” I shuddered as I conjured up the image of John’s neck again. “Ack! No!”

  It could be done, I suppose, Ben mused. That Ranger Schwin noted the claw marks did not go deep enough might suggest a weaker force than a bear attacked poor John. A human with some sort of clawed instrument perhaps?

  “Okay, this is gruesome!” I actually put my hands over my ears although I always heard Ben’s voice in my head, not externally.

  Yes, I am sorry. I must stop speculating. It is distressing to you. The authorities will uncover the truth. I am certain of it.

  “It could have been a bird of prey or something, couldn’t it?”

  It is possible, Minerva, but I think unlikely.

  “So, you’re saying you think he was murdered?”

  That is my supposition, yes.

  I shook my head.

  “Neither Jackson nor Schwin said anything about murder.”

  Perhaps they did not wish to distress you.

  “What a gruesome way to kill someone! And why John?”

  I cannot say.

  “I’m not going to be able to sleep a wink tonight.” I settled onto my couch, grabbed a warm throw and pulled my knees to my chest. “I’ll just wait here for morning. Everything looks better in daylight. It always does.”

  I hope that you are right, Minerva.

  I kept a wall sconce on for soft lighting and dozed fitfully throughout the rest of the night, jumping up occasionally in response to the odd sound here and there. Nothing specific, just sounds.

  I was awake when soft lavender light, visible through a window over my door, finally broke the darkness.

  Dawn! Thank goodness! I rose and washed my face before making strong coffee. I couldn’t resist the temptation to look outside any longer, and I opened the door quietly.

  “I know you’re going to tell me to stay inside, Ben,” I whispered, “but whatever happened is probably over. I can’t hide inside my RV for the entire week.”

  Just until the bear is captured or villain is apprehended, whichever the case may be. Ben probably spoke to my back as I had already descended the steps to look around.

  The forest smelled wonderful with that heady scent of pine. The air was cool, and my breath came out in puffs of white steam. It seemed hard to believe that a horrible tragedy had occurred in this peaceful setting so close to my RV.