“What do you mean, purposefully?”
“The fence has been cut and pulled back to allow them in.”
He leaned back in his chair and gave her a doubtful look. “How do you know the fence didn’t just come down on its own?”
She took a deep breath, pushing down her annoyance. “Because I could clearly see the toolmarks where it had been cut. And as I said, it had been rolled back and held in place at the nearest poles on both sides.”
He harrumphed and tilted his hat back with an index finger. “How many head would you say?”
“From what I could see, well over fifty. Maybe a hundred. Even more if they’ve wandered on the other side of the hills there.”
“You see a tag?”
She pulled out her digital camera and brought up the photo of the ear tag. Leaning over his desk, she handed it to him.
His brow furrowed and he leaned forward in his chair. “I know this rancher. I’m sure it was just an accident. I’ll have a word.” He handed her camera back and returned to his paperwork.
“That’s all?” she asked, a little astounded it was that easy. “You don’t want me to fill out a report or anything?”
He didn’t even glance up. “Nope, I’ll take care of it.”
Reluctantly, and not believing he would actually do anything, she turned for the door. “Okay, then. Thanks for your time, Sheriff.” All thirty seconds of it, she added mentally, then walked out.
Kathleen stood up as Alex was leaving the building. The older woman greeted her with a warm smile. “You want to grab lunch?” Kathleen asked. “I’m due for a break.”
Alex smiled. “Sure. I’d like that.”
Kathleen picked up a jacket off the back of her chair. “Great. I’m buying. There’s a terrific little café off the main drag. They serve a mean burrito.”
Alex’s mood lifted. Between Brad’s storming off back to Boston and the sheriff’s less-than-friendly attitude toward her, it felt wonderful to be in the company of someone nice.
They walked along elevated wooden sidewalks, passing a dozen historic buildings—two old saloons, a general mercantile store, a tack and feed place. Some of the old wooden buildings had been converted from their original purpose into little boutique stores displaying a variety of items to lure in the tourists, from jewelry to hand-knitted items to ice cream. But original elements of many of the structures were still visible, including one worn-looking saloon that still sported actual swinging doors and the post office with its impressive edifice of marble.
Kathleen noticed her interest. “Town was started in 1892. Back then it was just a mining camp where you could get a bath or get stabbed for a nickel. Now it’s the booming metropolis you see before you,” she proclaimed with a sweep of her arm.
Alex instantly warmed to Kathleen and laughed. “How long have you lived in this bastion of high society?”
“I was born here. The mountains are in my bones. I’m the third generation of Macklay to make my home here.”
They turned the corner and stepped down off the elevated wooden walkway. Two pickup trucks rumbled by. Both drivers waved to Kathleen warmly and she waved back. Then they both looked at Alex without smiling, their eyes scrutinizing her. “Small-town life,” Kathleen said cheerfully. “Everybody knows everybody.”
Alex thought of the rushed, indifferent anonymity of Boston. Part of her always thought it would be comforting to live in a place where the postmaster and the checker at the grocery store greeted you by name.
Kathleen looked over at her as they crossed the street. “Where did you come from?”
“Boston of late,” she told her, “but California before that.”
“LA?”
Alex shook her head. “No, the San Francisco Bay Area. I went to school at Berkeley.”
Kathleen sighed as they stepped up onto the wooden sidewalk on the other side of the street. “I’ve always wanted to see Hollywood. Go behind the scenes on a set. I have seen the Pacific Ocean a few times, though. I have a sister who moved to Florence, Oregon.”
Alex was familiar with that section of coast, which was rugged and beautiful. “That sounds nice.”
Kathleen laughed. “I visit her whenever I can.” She stopped in front of a small café with several tables set up on the sidewalk. “Here we are. Our illustrious Rockies Café.”
A delicious aroma wafted through the open door. They walked inside, and the diners at two tables turned to Kathleen and waved. “How’s tricks?” one woman asked her.
“Just fine. And you, Alma?”
The woman smiled and said, “Can’t complain. You going to be at the shindig tomorrow?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Kathleen told her. “I’ll see you there.”
The group of women at the table looked curiously at Alex, but seemed a little friendlier than the men in the pickup trucks.
As they moved to the counter to order, Alex asked, “Shindig?”
Kathleen grinned. “A few of us get together nights and play music. Bluegrass, Americana, ‘old-timey music,’ as my mother used to say.”
Alex brightened. “What do you play?”
“Mandolin.”
“Wonderful.” Alex missed playing music with other people. But even if she was invited to such a shindig, she didn’t think an oboe would fit in too well with bluegrass.
Following Kathleen’s suggestion, Alex ordered the black bean burrito and they picked a table next to the window.
“So other than playing music,” Alex said as they sat down, “what else do you do for enjoyment?”
“I read a lot. Absolutely devour books.”
“What kind?”
“Oh, anything really. Mysteries, horror, earth science, conservation.”
The server brought over their burritos and glasses of water, and Alex’s stomach growled as she smelled the food.
“Cheers,” Kathleen said, lifting her water glass.
“Cheers.” They clinked glasses and took sips.
Then Alex tasted the burrito. Kathleen was right. It was amazing. “Speaking of conservation,” Alex said, “I get the feeling I’m not too popular around here.”
“There are mixed feelings about the preserve you’re working on. A lot of folks used to hunt and trap up there.”
“So Makepeace told me.”
Kathleen caught her expression. “I imagine this way of life must be startling to you, especially coming from San Francisco. People have different values up here.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“But some of us believe in preserving species,” Kathleen commented. “Other people wanted that resort land to graze their cattle.”
Alex took a sip of water. “Actually, I don’t think the land trust’s presence stopped them. I found a bunch of cows meandering around on the preserve today. The fence between the properties had been cut.”
Kathleen swallowed and suddenly looked serious. “They didn’t have green ear tags, did they?”
“Actually, yes. Does that mean something to you?”
“They’re Bar C Ranch cattle. They belong to Flint Cooper. He’s a mean son of a—” She cut off in midsentence as a man strode by the window and then entered the café.
Following Kathleen’s gaze, Alex looked over her shoulder to see the same man who’d stared at her angrily when she’d first come into town for supplies. He wore the same white cowboy hat with the silver and turquoise band, and didn’t look over at their table.
“Speak of the devil,” Kathleen said in a whisper. “That’s him. Can’t stand the man.”
Alex caught a whiff of overpowering cologne as he walked to the counter. The women Kathleen had talked to all turned and greeted him. One of them even giggled. “Howdy, ladies,” he said, tipping his hat, then moved to the counter to order.
Alex looked back to see evident disgust on Kathleen’s face. “They’re always making eyes at him. I guess he’s handsome in his own way, but I guarantee you it’s his money more than his personality that attr
acts people to him.” She took an angry bite of her burrito.
Alex leaned toward her and said quietly, “I get the feeling you’ve had less than wonderful dealings with the man.”
Kathleen nodded her head, then wiped her mouth. She talked quietly. “I’ll say. Time was, he’d set his cap at me. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was so used to getting whatever he wanted that he didn’t know what to do with my refusals. It was like he just didn’t understand how I could possibly turn him down. He got mean and spiteful, turned people against me. Blackballed me professionally. It took me a long time to get that job in the sheriff’s office. There was actually a time when I thought I was going to have to move away to find work.”
“That’s terrible. What changed?”
“Nothing really but time. The more he sabotaged folks like that when he didn’t get his way, the more they realized what a piece of work he was. He pissed off the sheriff one too many times, once when my résumé happened to be on the man’s desk. He hired me after that. But there are still folks who won’t speak to me because he bad-mouthed me so much.”
Cooper turned, resting one elbow on the counter and surveying the café as if he owned the place. His eyes fell on Alex and Kathleen and he pushed off the counter and walked to them, his stride cocky and self-assured.
“There goes my appetite,” Kathleen said, putting down her burrito.
“Well, hey there,” he said to Alex, completely ignoring Kathleen. His cologne was so powerful that Alex’s eyes threatened to water. “You must be the little gal who’s staying up at the resort. Flint Cooper.” He didn’t extend his hand for a shake.
Alex bristled. “Alex Carter.”
“Heard you had a run-in with Cal.”
“Cal?”
“My ranch hand.”
“Oh. He didn’t give me his name. It wasn’t exactly a productive conversation.”
He hooked a meaty thumb into the front pocket of his jeans. “You gotta understand ranching if you’re going to live out here.”
“My forte is more heritage biology.”
Cooper squinted. “What’s that?”
“Returning the land to its original state, with its native species,” she told him. “And removing invasive ones.” Like cows.
“That’s an awful lot of land to go to waste for that. You land trust folks of a mind to sell this here old ranch hand a piece of that pie?”
Alex fought the urge to tell him he was already using part of the pie. Let Makepeace handle it. “Sorry,” she said. “Not a chance.”
Some of his cool veneer wore off and his face fell a little. “That’s a mighty quick answer.”
“And a mighty easy one, too,” she said.
His grin vanished and he looked down at her, as if trying to figure out if he should continue trying to catch flies with honey or resort to the kind of tactics Kathleen had been describing.
“I don’t see why you folks need all that land. Hard to manage.”
“We’re managing quite well,” she said, deciding to adopt a diplomatic air. “We’re really excited to restore the land to its original state. Bring in more native plant species and improve the terrain for wildlife.”
“Don’t see how you can make much money doing that,” he said, and Alex knew that he truly didn’t understand the reason for the preserve.
“Money isn’t our objective, Mr. Cooper. It’s conservation.”
He stood there a minute longer, looking a little stumped. “Still seems a waste of good grazing land.”
“To you, maybe.”
He narrowed his eyes and glowered down at her then. After a full minute of his just staring at her, Kathleen nudged Alex’s boot under the table. Alex said, “If you don’t mind, we were in the middle of a conversation. It was nice to meet you.” And she turned away from him.
The counter clerk called out, “Cooper. To go.” Cooper pivoted on his cowboy boot heel and moved to the counter. After picking up his order, he sauntered out. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said to the table of women, who replied in kind. Alex didn’t look at him again, but could feel his eyes burning into her back.
“You okay?” she asked Kathleen after he’d gone.
“Yeah. Just hate seeing him around. Did you see he didn’t even acknowledge my presence? As if I were a complete nonentity? You’d think I’d burned down the local church, not that I had the audacity to not want to marry him.” She shuddered.
“I think you made the right choice.”
Kathleen laughed. “Anyway, let’s not let him ruin our lunch.”
“Hear, hear!”
They continued to eat the delicious burritos, and Kathleen asked about Alex’s past—the places she’d lived and the different species she’d studied. Kathleen was easy to talk to. “Are you married?” her new friend asked her.
Alex shook her head. “I was seeing this fellow Brad, but it didn’t work out. We had different values. In fact, he was up here briefly, trying to reconcile.”
Kathleen took a sip of water. “Handsome fellow? Short black hair?”
“That’s him,” Alex said, and laughed. “This really is a small town!”
“I saw him at the pub, using his computer.”
“That’s him, all right. He had to come into town to get internet access.”
“But the relationship didn’t work out?”
Alex looked down. “No.”
“I’m sorry, hon.”
Alex met her gaze. “I think it’s for the best. He can find a better fit, someone interested in the kind of lifestyle he wants.”
Kathleen patted her hand. “And so can you.”
“Maybe.” Alex gazed out of the window, feeling strangely detached from her own life. For a long time she’d been operating in an unfulfilling space, her mind more on how her life wasn’t turning out the way she had imagined it rather than how to make it the life she longed for. But this was her chance. She had only herself to consider now. No longer did she have to balance on the edge between urban life and wildlife work. She was free. She took a long, deep breath. She truly was free.
“That looked like a big thought,” Kathleen commented around a bite of burrito.
“Just thinking about how now I can make some different choices.”
“I guess that’s the good side to a breakup,” Kathleen mused. “So what’s on your agenda for today?”
“Very exciting stuff. I’m picking up some more lumber to replace a camera trap of mine that got destroyed.”
“Destroyed?” Kathleen asked, and stopped chewing. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure what happened. But when I went back to it to retrieve the memory card, the entire thing had been torn down and the camera was missing.”
“Poachers? They probably don’t like that you have cameras up there.”
“That was my thought, too, but the wood is really damaged. Seems like they would have just dismantled it, broken it down where I’d nailed it together. But the boards themselves had been splintered, and the bait was missing, bones and all.”
“That’s weird,” Kathleen said, finishing her bite.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“And the camera was gone?”
“Yep. Thankfully I have a backup. It’s an older model I hadn’t put out yet, but it’ll do. Now I just have to decide where I want to put the replacement trap. I’m a little worried that lightning will strike twice if I put it in the same spot.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“And what about the rest of your day, Kathleen?”
The older woman leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Answering phones. Probably getting bawled out by Makepeace for one thing or another. Then it’s home to watch my new DVD box set of Midsomer Murders.”
“The British TV show?”
“That’s the one.”
A handsome man likely in his early seventies walked by the café just then. He paused when he saw Kathleen sitting inside. His longish white hair was tucked behind his
ears, and his rough-shaven face broke into a sheepish smile as their eyes met. Alex thought he looked a little like the actor Sam Elliott.
“Oh, my,” Kathleen said, suddenly looking down at the table. She actually blushed, her ears going red.
Since he was bareheaded, the man touched an index finger to his forehead at Alex as a way of tipping his hat, and then continued down the street. “Who was that?” Alex asked, charmed to see her new friend looking so pink.
“Frank Cumberland.”
Alex suddenly felt the twelve-year-old in her come out. “You like him. You like like him.”
Kathleen picked up her napkin and gave Alex a playful swat on the arm with it. “Maybe a little.”
“Does he enjoy watching Midsomer Murders?” Alex suggested.
Kathleen looked up. “I haven’t found out yet.”
“Maybe tonight would be a good time to see.”
“Oh, hush,” Kathleen said, totally nonplussed.
The burrito was so rich, Alex couldn’t finish it all, so she wrapped it up to eat later. She looked across at Kathleen. “Thanks for a wonderful lunch.”
“Thank you. Nice to talk to someone new, somebody who’s out there fighting the good fight.”
“Thanks, Kathleen. Can I walk you back to the sheriff’s station?”
“That would be lovely. Especially if Makepeace sees us together. I could go for a little feather ruffling today.”
They stood and walked out to the street. Kathleen’s eyes followed in the direction Frank had gone and she smiled a little to herself. Back at the sheriff’s station, Kathleen hugged her and they parted, making a tentative lunch date for sometime later that week.
Alex walked to the hardware store to pick up supplies for the replacement trap. As she approached, she heard Makepeace’s voice talking quietly in an alley on the far side of the store. He sounded angry, his words tense and clipped.
Alex glanced around, not seeing anyone nearby, so she walked to the edge of the building where she’d still be out of sight and listened. She pulled out her phone and pretended to be checking her messages in case anyone saw her.
“At least make it look like it was trampled,” Makepeace was saying to someone. “You cut it.”
A Solitude of Wolverines Page 17