Into the Light

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Into the Light Page 2

by Bernard Burgess


  Steamboat was eventually inducted into the Pro Rodeo Hall of Fame and the National Cowboy Hall of Fame. He’s the only horse to be buried on the grounds of the Cheyenne Frontier Days rodeo, near bucking chute nine.

  Chugwater was also known for its chili. Various recipes celebrate the town’s spicy dishes. A well-known landmark is the Chugwater Soda Fountain, carrying on the small-town tradition.

  Another hour or two farther north, Rebecca passed by the town of Glendo, and the large reservoir bearing the same name. She glanced into the Glendo State Park just east of the interstate, a popular regional recreational area. The Park surrounded the large reservoir which was formed by a half-mile long earth-fill dam across the North Platte River. This area was a common crossing point for the Oregon, Mormon, and California Trails. It was also the end of the trail for one of the nation’s last known train robbers, William Carlisle, captured there in 1919.

  Two more hours of driving brought Rebecca into the city of Caspar. The backdrop of snow-covered mountains to the south and west, as they faded into the ghostly white of light snow flurries, gave the feel of a ski town rather than a rodeo town. She answered her ringing cell phone.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Thompson. Bert here from B & N Investigations. I’m just twenty miles west of Caspar. How about we meet at the Branding Iron restaurant. It’s not too far away from I-25 and just south of the Yellowstone Highway, which I’ll be following into town.” Bert was being very professional.

  She replied cheerfully, “That sounds good, Mr. Lynnes. I’ll be there. If I get there before you, I’ll just go inside and get a table, if that’s okay with you. I’m craving a coffee.”

  Bert readily agreed and resumed his drive toward Caspar from the west of the city on State Highway 20, also known as the Yellowstone Highway. He was ready to get out of the car and have a coffee, himself.

  About thirty minutes later, Bert walked into the Branding Iron Restaurant. He removed his tan winter coat as he scanned the dining room. To his surprise, he saw a familiar face. He looked closely and rechecked his memory. Yes, that was Becky Moreland at a table near the far window, by herself. He wondered what she was doing up here; maybe working a case? He knew he had to say hello before he looked for his prospect.

  “Well, what a surprise. Hi Becky, how are you doing? How are things going in your job down there in Cheyenne?”

  “A surprise indeed,” Becky replied. “I’m doing well. How are you doing? I didn’t know you lived around here. Can you sit and join me for a minute?”

  Bert looked at his phone. It was 1:40; twenty minutes before he was to meet Miss Thompson. “Sure, I can sit and talk for a few. I’m meeting someone in about fifteen minutes. Enough time to bring me up to speed on what you’ve been doing. We haven’t talked since Cheyenne a couple months ago.”

  She made a frown. “Yeah, I know. I hoped to keep in touch with you but when you finished the job you were on you just vanished. What’ve you been doing, Cody?”

  Bert sat back in his chair and looked out the window. She called him Cody, his alias when he worked for the Governor in Cheyenne. He suddenly realized that she didn’t know his real name or occupation. Maybe he didn’t really know who she was, either.

  “I’m curious, Becky,” he said, “this might sound strange, but what’s your full name now?”

  She was a little puzzled by his question but answered him. “Well, when we met at the restaurant, I was Becky Moreland. Last month, though, my divorce was finalized, and I reverted back to my maiden name, Thompson.”

  “Let me guess,” he replied, “I’m betting that your full name is Rebecca Abigail Thompson. Right?”

  A hint of realization was coming over her. “Yes, that’s right, Cody. So how do you know that?”

  “Hang onto your seat, Rebecca Thompson, because I’m not Cody. Cody was an alias I used when I was working for the Governor. My real name is Bert Lynnes, owner of B & N Investigations.”

  “Oh my God,” she exclaimed. “So, you’re here to interview me.” She adjusted her posture to sit fully upright from previously leaning toward him.

  Bert laughed, a little nervously. “Yup, I guess so, Miss Thompson. So, I only have three questions for you.”

  “Well, don’t keep me in suspense, Mr. Lynnes. Shoot.”

  He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Why do you want to work for us?”

  She was getting over the shock. “Well, sir, aside from the fact that I know the owner and think he’s a pretty good guy that I would enjoy working with, I like the nature of your company. You employ an unusual tracking animal, and I love animals and would really love to know how you use her. Thirdly, you enlist the aid of a psychic. I believe I have some ability of ‘clairsentience’, clear thinking, otherwise known as an empath. I’d like to work for a company that understands and accepts that as an asset. Lastly, I want to be successful, and it helps to work for a successful company.”

  Bert could tell that she’d done her homework. She’d obviously studied their business website, because she knew Missy was a female. He realized that the absence of personal pictures, typical for many PI companies, had kept her from knowing that “Cody” was the owner. “One more question, then, Miss Thompson.”

  “What’s that, sir?”

  “How do you feel about working with a psychic? Especially one who stays in the background, out of sight. I’m the only one who communicates directly with her? Any questions you have for her would have to be channeled through me.”

  She replied, “Mr. Lynnes, I suspected that there might be such a relationship when I studied your website and looked into a few of your cases. I’m actually kind of excited by the opportunity to learn how you make that work and to try to become a part of it in some way. I’ve had a lifelong interest in, not just investigation, but in the paranormal.”

  “Last question, then,” he said with a smile. “When can you start?”

  “Does that mean I’ve got the job?” Becky asked.

  Bert answered with a chuckle, “Yes, you’ve got the job if you want it, Becky. And from now on, I’m Bert. I’m not a formal guy, as you know.”

  She became serious. “I should give my present company a two-week notice. So, with the holidays coming on, I think I should probably aim to start working for you about the second or third of January. I’m renting a place in a small town a few miles south of Cheyenne, so need to move, I guess. I assume I should try to find a place to live up here around Cody, right?”

  “Yes, it would be better if you lived near us. That will likely take some time, so until then we can work with you by phone. I know a bed and breakfast in downtown Cody which would make you a pretty good deal on a few months of temporary off-season lodging until you find something permanent. For now, how about we have lunch?”

  He reached across the table and shook her hand. “Welcome to B & N Investigations, Becky Thompson.”

  Chapter Two: Red Lodge

  Tuesday, January 2nd, 2018, was clear and cold. Bert and Norah looked out their picture window onto the three inches of fresh snow. It had turned the early morning landscape into a brilliant mix of glistening white, broken by the scattered trees and rock facings of the surrounding mountains. The sun was just rising over Cedar Mountain, which rose sharply to the southwest of Cody.

  Wyoming’s second national monument, designated so by President Taft, now sat nearly abandoned on Cedar Mountain, nearly three-quarters of the way up Spirit Mountain Road. This road left the vicinity of the world-famous Cody Night Rodeo grounds and wound steeply up the mountain until a visitor could arrive at the steep ledge which led to Spirit Mountain Cave. What could have been another national treasure, this 2,000-foot-deep cave with its sparkling crystals was largely sacrificed to the development of Yellowstone Park. This morning, no visitors were there to witness the spectacular sunrise as it crept over the mountain to light up the North Fork Highway to the west. It wrested the valley from the night and brought its majesty to Bert’s and Norah’s view.<
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  Bert shifted his gaze from the morning spectacle to Norah. They were once again discussing the ongoing emails with Elizabeth Hayden, in Red Lodge, Montana. She was the mother of the seven-year-old girl having some kind of emotional issue. Elizabeth, or Lizzie as she liked to be called, had taken her daughter, Summer Irene, to three different psychiatrists. They each offered different diagnoses, ranging from post-traumatic stress disorder to schizophrenia. Lizzie just didn’t buy any of that. She said she couldn’t help but believe there was something else behind her daughter’s strange behavior. She had studied the B & N website and felt strongly that they might be able to help her child.

  Norah agreed with Lizzie. “I’m sensing that Lizzie is right about the psychiatric evaluations. That profession wants a label and a psychosis for every human feeling and action. They’re not happy unless they can put you into one of their boxes. The PTSD evaluation might come the closest. It could be that some traumatic event happened to this child that her parents don’t know about.”

  Bert nodded. “Yeah, babe, I’m changing my mind about this one. I’m thinking we should take this case. The parents are well off, so money is no object for them. Perhaps we’re the only team with the tools to answer their questions.”

  “I’m thinking this might be a good case for Becky to cut her teeth on, Honey,” Norah suggested. “She wants to work and she’s a self-starter. As an empath personality, she might be able to connect with this child in a way that few others can.”

  Bert added, “You’re right, I think, Sweetheart. She got out of her lease down by Cheyenne and is moving into the Robin’s Nest B & B on Alger Avenue this week. This is one of those unusual cases that might be tailor-made for her limited investigative experience.”

  “Have her come out soon as she’s able so I can see her, Bert,” Norah requested. “I’ve heard you talk about her, but I want to meet her. Well, you know what I mean. I’m sensing that she’s ugly as a mud fence, right?” She smiled.

  He grinned a little sheepishly. “Well, dear, not quite like a mud fence, but close. I’ll see if she has any time this afternoon.”

  A phone call to Becky caught her in a reception zone as she traveled just west of Caspar. She’d gotten an early start this morning with her pickup loaded down with her last possessions. She said she should be able to come out to their place later this afternoon.

  While Norah spent some time with Missy, Bert went back to checking email. A new inquiry popped up. A guy in Nebraska asked if B & N Investigations would consider a very cold missing person’s case.

  Bert thought about that for a minute before replying that they would consider such a case. However, he needed to know more details in order to decide.

  Missy was wandering around the living room, acting restlessly. Bert knew she needed to go out and get some exercise, so he donned his winter boots and coat and they headed out the back door and into the snow-covered mountains. She sprinted ahead of him, stopping periodically to look back and keep him in sight. She excitedly searched under rocks and fallen trees for any sign of a furry snack.

  Can’t take the country out of the coyote, thought Bert.

  “Damn, that’s gonna be a bruise!” He rolled over slowly, checking his right hip to see if everything still worked.

  He carefully picked himself up from where he’d fallen. Snow covered rocky trails were not a place to get in a hurry. He could enjoy the scenery more at a slower pace, anyway. The rest of their nearly three-hour hike went well, and man and coyote thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Alone in nature, Bert could not only relax and enjoy the serenity, but it was where he did his best thinking.

  Back at home, Bert fed Missy and left her to her bed in the garage. From there she had access to their large fenced yard. He went inside to check email again and communicate with Norah.

  The guy from Nebraska had emailed again. The name of this 23-year-old man was Robert Sturdevant. He lived on the outskirts of Nebraska City, Nebraska. He said that his mother, Vicki, disappeared in 2010. Both the volunteer search and the investigation came up empty. After a couple of years, the case went cold. His mother had been a very successful real estate investor, leaving him well off as her only heir. Emotionally, he was having a difficult time living without knowing what had happened to her.

  Bert discussed this latest email with Norah, as he sipped a coffee. “I have some reservations about taking a case this old and cold,” he said. “We’ve never tried to reach so far back in time before. This guy sounds so distraught, though.”

  Norah had moved to the opposite side of the cozy sitting area in front of the large picture window. They both paused to drink in the early afternoon view of the North Fork Valley, spreading before them to the south and west. “I’m also apprehensive about this one, Honey. But there’s something about this man and his obvious pain that pulls me. I think we should try to help him.”

  Bert nodded as he watched the light January traffic on the Yellowstone highway. It was mostly locals who either lived in the valley or were heading for the east entrance to Yellowstone for some snowmobiling or cross-country skiing. “Yeah, Sweetheart, I agree. This one is tugging at me, also. I’ll tell him we’ll take it. And ask when he might be able to have a telephone call to get into more details.”

  Shortly after his call to Robert, his cell phone rang. It was Becky. Bert greeted her warmly and asked how the move was going.

  “OMG, don’t ask!” She exclaimed. “I’m sure you’ve done enough moves to know the drill and the frustrations. But hey, I’m ready for a break after moving my last bags into the room and my other stuff into a storage unit. Ready for a chat with you guys.”

  She always sounds so upbeat, Bert thought to himself as he noted Norah’s nod of approval. “Fantastic, if now is a good time, come on out.” He proceeded to give her directions.

  “Guess we’re going to find out how this will work with our first new investigator. Ought to be interesting.” Norah laughed. “Get to see just how much she resembles a mud fence.”

  Bert wondered if his face was red. “Well, she isn’t exactly ugly, Honey, but she’s a good person and I think she’s going to be great working with us.”

  “I’m just teasing you, my Love,” Norah said with a laugh in her voice. “I’ve already perceived that she’s a very beautiful woman. Remember, hun, I’m a bit psychic. I know you chose her, though, because of her abilities. I trust your judgment.”

  “Thanks, baby, you’re right about all that,” Bert said as he began to tidy up the kitchen and living room.

  The knock at the door followed the black Dodge pickup’s arrival on their driveway. Bert glanced at Norah as he walked to the front door. She stood near the chair to the left of the picture window, a big smile shimmered on her face.

  Bert opened the door. “Hello Becky, welcome to the headquarters of B & N Investigations.” He shook her hand and waved her inside with a sweep of his hand.

  As Becky stepped inside and looked around the warm and cozy log cabin, Bert glanced at Norah. She looked at him and mouthed an approving “Wow!” Although Becky was wearing denim jeans, a short sleeve camo tee shirt, and her ankle high lace work shoes, he knew Norah was thinking, “Not a mud fence.”

  Bert smiled and gave Becky a tour of the downstairs, then directed her to the sitting area by the picture window. She marveled at the view for a minute, then turned to Bert, ready for his guidance. He’d been marveling at the view, also.

  They engaged in small talk for a few minutes. After that, Bert transitioned to discussing their business. Becky had numerous questions about their past cases and how the team worked together. She was especially fascinated with the psychic inputs.

  “So, your psychic wife, Norah, always works in the background?” She asked. “Will she stay in the background, even with me?”

  Bert knew this question would come up. “Yes, for now she wants to stay in the background with everyone but me. I know that may seem a little strange, but in time you’ll understand.”

/>   Becky nodded. “You’ll tell me then what she thinks of me? And what she wants me to know?”

  “Yes, for now we’ll work it that way. I can tell you already that she likes you and thinks you’ll be a real asset to our team.”

  “Really?” Becky wanted to know. “She hasn’t met me; how can she know she likes me?”

 

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