Fault Line In The Sand

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Fault Line In The Sand Page 6

by Linda Mackay


  “He knows enough if he felt the need to kick a truck before he asked any questions. And I’d bet he’s a bureaucrat who believes he’s stuck doing crap-duty, far away from his expensive house and cushy office chair,” Todd said.

  “He’s worried,” I said. “They’ve found something that has made him nervous.”

  “He wants to go home, right now,” Amanda said.

  “Why do you think that?” Todd asked.

  “Because he’s yelling it into the sat-phone with enough emphasis that the horses could read his lips.”

  “Both of you back-away.” They ignored me. “Get over here, now!”

  “Chill, boss. They can’t see us,” Todd said.

  “If you can see them, they can see you. We’re done here until Mac and Liz arrive.” Both started to argue, but the look on my face made them decide otherwise. I took my binos from Amanda and put them in my pack. “Let’s hike back toward Turbid Lake. Along the way I want to look for rock or concrete that was thrown from the explosion.”

  We spent the rest of the day scouring the area and found several promising pieces. Two of the rocks I’d kept from the July explosion were in a safe deposit box. The best samples had been sent to DC so I hoped to find new ones this trip. We needed evidence of explosives, and of new concrete that was mixed as a marine-water based concrete.

  To prove the former president was assassinated we needed proof the killers had been attempting to seal vents under Mary Bay as an accelerator for a bomb detonation. When you seal the release valves of volatile gases you can get an explosion when you ignite them. That was Dad’s theory. The rest of us came to the same conclusion in July. It also made it a lot easier to jump to conclusions—before we had proof—when they started shooting at us.

  “Over here,” Todd called.

  The tone of his voice made Amanda and I run as fast as the terrain allowed. Todd was off trail and pointing at the ground. Partially hidden in the grass was a shoe. A shoe with a foot in it. “Bet that didn’t fall off after a long day of hiking,” Todd said.

  Todd wasn’t being flippant. He was doing his best to deal with the situation. Amanda turned away and I could hear her gagging. Taking off my pack, I pulled out a plastic sack I carried for trash. I emptied the tiny bit of trash into my pack and turned the sack inside out. Using the bag so I didn’t touch anything, I picked-up the shoe with its severed foot and tied off the bag. I put it in my pack, and without any further discussion we returned to camp.

  Todd rehydrated a Mexican beef and corn dish for dinner while we talked about everything but the foot. It had been a sobering discovery. One that may not contain any evidence other than the person the foot belonged to was close to the blast, and more than likely got that foot caught on something at the moment of detonation.

  After dinner we drank hot chocolate and watched the fire die out. No one made a move to go to bed and it was nearing ten p.m. Late for sitting outside in the cold, when a toasty warm sleeping bag awaited you.

  “Anyone wonder why an animal didn’t eat it?” Todd was the first to broach the foot.

  “What if there was more than this blown here and a bear ate everything else and left the foot?” Amanda added.

  “When I bagged it, the foot didn’t look like it had been chewed off by an animal.”

  “What the hell else is up here?” Todd shook his head.

  “What if the foot belonged to the President?” Amanda asked.

  We’d been better off talking about the weather. “No more what if’s tonight. Get some rest and tomorrow morning we search again. Then we’ll ride down to meet Mac and Liz.”

  “Night, Todd.”

  “Sleep well ladies.”

  I didn’t have high hopes for that.

  “Howdy strangers.” From his lazy position in the saddle, Todd tipped his cowboy hat.

  “How was the round-up?” I asked Liz.

  “Cold and wet.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “How is that good?”

  “If being cold and wet was the only problem you had then that is a successful round-up.” She didn’t look convinced by my conclusion. “Don’t start unloading yet. Follow me with the truck.”

  Mac and Liz got back in the truck without question, which I took as a good omen they might occasionally listen to me. Todd and I rode ahead of them to the area we’d parked two days ago. We’d left the other three horses tied to the trailer when we’d ridden to meet Mac and Liz. I motioned for Mac to pull the truck to the right of the horse trailer.

  “I thought you were leaving this at Fishing Bridge?”

  “We ran into a friend of mine who was very unhappy with the team at the bay. He gave us special permits to park back here. Put it on the driver’s side dash,” I said. “You shouldn’t need it with my USGS sticker; it’s simply added insurance.”

  “Where’s Amanda?” Mac asked.

  “The princess wanted to take a bath and wash her hair, so we left her at camp to preen,” Todd said.

  “Todd, help hook the travois to Deli.” Delicious, is the best packhorse on the ranch. Frank named her, saying she was the most delicious horse he ever saddle-broke. She got the nickname, Deli, and went on to prove her real talent was as a packhorse that never objects to her load. Unless, it’s human. Once Frank used her to carry packs, she took affront at having a human on her back.

  “Saddles for your horses are in the trailer.” I told Mac.

  Todd rubbed the ears of my horse, Chimayo. “She’s been bareback for two days on the trail with us and can’t figure out why she’s rider-less. I think she’s glad to see you, Mac.”

  So far, the piranha had been exceptionally quiet. She was staring at the horses. The concern in her eyes made me think her adventure with Frank and the cowboys was not one she wanted to repeat.

  “Mac usually rides the paint, Chimayo. The one with the cowlick in her mane is Alfalfa. She’s a sweetheart, and I promise she won’t give you any trouble.” I looked at Alfalfa. “Right, girl?”

  “Did that horse just nod her head yes?” Liz asked.

  Todd laughed tightening the clamps on the ROV to the travois. “Yep, and the blowing of her lips was her way of saying, Jorie didn’t need to tell her to be good.”

  The piranha stared at me.

  “What?” I stared back.

  “That better not be some code to dump me off.” Liz backed away from the horses.

  She was afraid of horses. I wondered if it was all horses, or if the cowboys had pulled a trick on her since Frank brought a city dudette to a roundup?

  Mac and Todd had transferred the ROV to the travois and were in the process of tying it down. I dropped my head. I was going to have to play nice with the piranha. “Liz, get your saddle packs and I’ll introduce you to Alfalfa.”

  I thought she was going to object, but instead pulled her packs out of the truck. She set them on the ground, and dug around in the backseat until, from under all of Mac’s stuff, she pulled out a shoulder holster and what looked like an automatic rifle. It must be some kind of spy competition to see which agent could show up with the best firearms. Taking off her jacket, she put on the shoulder holster and tightened it. I could see she was caring a .45 caliber pistol. After putting the jacket back on she slung the rifle across her back. “Okay, where do I put these packs?” She asked.

  We arranged the packs and Liz reached out to pet Alfalfa. The horse turned her head and licked the side of Liz’s face. The pistol was out of her holster before Alfalfa turned her head back to the front, ignoring Liz’s response.

  I slapped the barrel of the gun downward. “Damn it, don’t ever point a gun at my horse?”

  “You said she was gentle.” Liz holstered her .45.

  “I said, she wouldn’t give you any trouble.”

  “It tried to bite me.”

  Everyone laughed, which did not help the situation. “If she tried to bite you, trust me, you’d know it. She gave you a kiss. Now apologize.” I knew I was pushing it
, but no one gets away with threatening my horses.

  “I’m not apologizing to a horse,” Liz said.

  Todd walked up behind her. “Better do it.”

  Liz again reached for her firearm.

  “Kinda twitchy for a spy,” I said.

  “That’s enough.” Mac walked over and wrapped his right arm around Alfalfa’s neck. “Liz, come here and tell this lady how pretty she is.”

  Liz looked at him liked he’d grown three heads and two penises. Okay, the two penises were my fantasy, but at least she didn’t draw her gun again. Mac’s eyebrow rose and he tipped his head at Liz. Finally, she stepped up closer and patted the horse. “Do I really have to tell her that?”

  “Absolutely,” Mac said.

  Liz sighed, “You’re a pretty lady and don’t throw me off.” Alfalfa didn’t move. “Isn’t she going to nod yes or no?”

  “She only talks to Jorie,” Mac said.

  Liz shrugged her shoulders and gave me a do-something-about-it-look. “Alfalfa, promise not to throw her off.” She didn’t nod, but she snorted, and that was good enough for me.

  Wisely, Liz didn’t say anything. Mac helped her mount up. He then grabbed his packs and firearms, mounted Chimayo, and we rode out. I took the lead, followed by Todd, Liz, and Deli - who followed without needing a lead rein. Mac rode caboose, bringing up the rear.

  After a couple miles of riding we arrived at the large bench overlooking the Pelican Valley. “The trail turns south here. Thought we’d stop and let Liz stretch her legs for a minute.”

  “Don’t stop on my account.” She snarled back at me.

  “Then you can stop on mine. I need to sit over a log and check out the view,” Todd said.

  “Code again?” Liz asked.

  “Yep! But if you prefer I be blunt, I need to relieve my bowels. Take a dump. Drop a smelly load. Shit.” Todd was off his horse and headed for the nearest place to squat in semi-privacy.

  “Other way!” I yelled at Liz as she attempted to dismount Alfalfa from the wrong side. “Are you left-handed?”

  “No.”

  “Horses prefer you mount and dismount from the left. For normal right-handed people that is the most natural,” I said. “For Alfalfa, it’s the only way she wants. She’ll start going in circles if you use her right side.”

  “You lied,” Liz said.

  “I didn’t lie.”

  “Another lie.”

  “Look piranha, if you don’t know the basics of riding you shouldn’t be here. And while I have no idea what you think I’m lying about, if you accuse me again I’ll show you another way your ass will be off that horse. And how the fuck did you survive with Frank on round-up?”

  “He left me at the cabin.”

  “You spent several days alone at a cow line shack?” Frank would never do that.

  “Only one night alone. Otherwise, Frank returned at night,” Liz said.

  Well, that was too much information. “Had you ever been on a horse before that?”

  “No.”

  “Why did Frank agree to take you?”

  “I lied.”

  “Of course you did.” I turned Arikira and rode away from the bench leaving Mac to fill-in the hole she’d dug herself into.

  “A little privacy,” Todd said.

  Arikira and I turned our heads away from the bush. After a few minutes Todd emerged laughing. “You made Arikira look away too?”

  “She just followed my lead.”

  “You owe another five dollars in the “F” boot,” Todd said. “What were you bellowing about?”

  “I said the “F” word because Liz has never ridden a horse before. And I also called her the piranha to her face.”

  “Why is she here if she can’t ride?” Todd was laughing at me.

  “She knows something.” That stopped Mr. Chuckle’s amusement.

  “Everyone but us knows something. I’m fed-up with all these sneaky boneheads,” Todd said.

  “Me too. Got any ideas?”

  “One or two,” Todd smiled, “but they all involve sacrificing humans to the volcano and I wouldn’t look good in prison-orange. However, with your hair you could pull it off beautifully.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Dinner was finished, food bags re-hung in the tree, and we were sitting around the fire enjoying our mugs of decaf coffee with whiskey sleeping medicine. “I need to show you something.”

  Mac looked at me like I was disturbing him from a deep meditation with the Dali Lama. “Can it wait till morning?”

  “It could. But then you’d be mad I didn’t show you tonight.”

  “If it’s that important, why didn’t you show me as soon as we got to camp?” Mac lowered his head at me.

  “You’re never satisfied.”

  “Okay, Doc, just show me.”

  We walked to the bag hooked over my saddle. I took out the garbage sack, reached inside, and pulled out the foot being careful to hold onto it with the bag.

  “What the…” Mac said.

  “Todd found it yesterday. And before you ask, no, we didn’t find any other body parts.”

  “It doesn’t look to me like an animal chewed this off a body,” Mac said.

  “That was our conclusion.”

  Mac took the foot from me and examined it. “It’s been three months, why hasn’t an animal eaten this?”

  “We wondered the same thing. But it may be there wasn’t enough meat on the foot to merit the meal. Like how hooves are left behind when a large predator takes down an animal,” I said. “It’s also possible there was some smell originally attached to the foot that animals didn’t like.”

  “Like explosives,” Mac said.

  “Long shot, but possible.”

  “If we can find more clothing, shoes or body parts, forensics might detect explosive residue on them.” Mac wrapped the foot back up and put it in the saddlebag.

  “Could it belong to the former President?” I asked.

  “It’s not his.”

  “Positive?”

  “Too small.”

  “That’s good.” I wasn’t prepared to deal with it belonging to an assassinated President.

  “Probably a secret service agent’s.” Mac grinned, “the footwear tells the story.”

  “Flip-flops on a beach are looking good right now.”

  Chapter 8

  Breakfast! Eat it while it’s hot.” Todd yelled across camp. Most of us were on our second cup of coffee, so the morning broadcast was for sleeping Princess Amanda.

  Mac brought burgers, potatoes, and corn on the cob for dinner last night. Gorging ourselves like we hadn’t eaten in a week, I was surprised to discover there was enough leftover that Todd could make breakfast hash. The eggs in the skillet dish were powdered, but the rest of the delicious ingredients disguised it.

  “She always this hard to get going in the morning?” Liz asked.

  “Always.” Mac walked over and rattled the tent. “There are two hot guys coming up the trail.”

  The zipper opened on the tent and a head popped out. “How old?”

  “Little younger than you, I guess. Saw them with the binos, so I’d brush your hair and get out here.”

  “I’m on it.” The head disappeared back in the tent.

  Mac sat back down close to the campfire, and Todd handed him a plate of food.

  “She’s only going to fall for that once,” I said.

  “Ten bucks says I can get her to bite three times,” Mac said.

  “I say twice.” Todd took the bet.

  “I’m in with never happening again,” I said.

  We all looked at Liz. “Guess I’m sitting this one out, since I don’t think she’ll fall for it again either.”

  Feeling generous I said, “We’ll split the pot if we win.”

  “Then I’m in.”

  The tent unzipped and out stepped Amanda in full make-up, with her hair brushed to hang across one eye. “How do I look?”

  “Like an
advertisement to get laid,” Todd said.

  “Do not.”

  “Check the mirror.”

  “I did.”

  “You must have gone blind overnight.” Todd put his hands over his eyes. “Look at me, I’m so pretty.”

  “Stop that, toad.”

  “Ribbit, ribbit, come and get me, baby.”

  Liz leaned in close to my bad ear. “How long is this going to go one?”

  “Till someone stops them. Who told you to lean in when you talk to me?”

  “Mac may have mentioned something about your left ear. And I’m impressed with your ability to turn a malfunction into an asset, Dr. Clark.”

  Did the piranha just compliment me? Holding her gaze I didn’t see any malice or sarcasm. Well, crap. How was I supposed to respond to that?

  Liz smiled and saved me from making a decision by continuing to talk. “I like my nickname.”

  “You aren’t offended I call you, the piranha?”

  “I’m flattered.”

  “Mac said you would be, but I didn’t believe him.”

  “When I started this was mostly a man’s business. It took a lot of years and stupid risks to prove my value. It’s nice to be acknowledged.” She took the spoon out of the skillet and hit the side of the coffeepot with a loud clang. “Round three is over. You two stop arguing and go to your separate corners.”

  I gave Liz a thumbs up.

  “Let’s load up and go see what the bay is talking about today,” Mac said.

  Ten minutes later the fire doused, camp clean, daypacks on our backs, we walked out of camp. Taking the horses could draw undo attention to us and the hike to scout out the bay was not far.

  Mac walked up next to me on the narrow game trail we were using to take a direct route to the cliff overlooking the bay. “What’s the story with your friend who had an issue with the group at the bay?”

  “Some dude kicked in his truck door before he could even say hello.”

  “Are you saying this group has made the bay officially off limits?”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying, except he was reporting for duty as the winter ranger-geologist. He decided to drive to the bay and check it out ahead of time and one of the team took offense and kicked his door.”

 

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