The Tanner Trilogy Boxed Set

Chapter 10

10

Ray looked down at the trout in the net. They were still alive, but would be turned into trophies of the three men who waded in the thigh-high water. He didn’t feel like being here, didn’t want to lead these weekend warriors on a fishing outing. But he had made a deal with Bear, his best friend for thirty years. Bear had the idea, but Ray had the experience, so they had partnered in this business venture. He had sold his share to Bear years ago, not wanting to be part of the collapse should something go wrong. Nothing did, and Tanner’s Outdoor Adventures had gained international recognition. He had always been well compensated for his labor, and for many years, he was satisfied with the arrangement. When he first spoke to Bear about retiring and moving to someplace like Florida, Bear laughed until he had tears rolling down his cheeks, disappearing into his full, red beard. He didn’t understand that his friend and former business partner was tired. His body protested a little more each winter, his hip a little stiffer after his fall into the mineshaft. Bear offered him more money, lighter duties, and he always gave in, admitting that he wouldn’t know what to do without Bear giving him orders, and they would laugh, and he would return to work.

The lodge had become Bear’s life. He raised three terrific kids, and no matter what befell his business, he always managed to recover. Now that Bear was gone, Ray didn’t see how the lodge could continue, and so had made his own plans. Carli, Samantha, and Shaun would make arrangements for the funeral. He would attend, of course, and assist them in squaring away the lodge, cabins, livestock, and land. Then he would leave Wyoming.

He glanced up at the excited voices as one of the clients pulled in another trout. Thinks he’s a lucky bastard, Ray thought. Little Shy River was stocked last week. It was one of his many duties at the lodge. He offered the obligatory grin and helped to remove the hook, then added the fish to those already inside the net.

After a short discussion, the three clients suggested they return to the lodge. They kept the six largest fish, packed them in the ice chest, and released the others into the river. It was a fifteen-minute drive to the lodge, and by the time they stored their gear and climbed into the van, they would arrive in time for lunch. He was glad that the job of cleaning the fish was the client’s, and if they needed help, Zach would offer it. He tuned out the chatter of the clients, except when they asked him a specific question. Watching the trees flash by, he realized he had traveled this road so many times he might as well have named every one of the tall pines.

When he pulled up at the lodge, he understood how difficult the next few days would be. Shaun’s vehicle was parked in front, and Carli and Samantha each glanced at him as they held luggage in their hands. He turned off the engine, gathered his courage, and exited the van to offer his condolences to Bear’s kids.

Ethan had spent the morning hours wandering the grounds. There were twelve cabins, a couple of outbuildings, and the barn. J.J. was there cleaning stalls when Ethan explained he would be riding Samson the next day. J.J. introduced the two of them. Ethan stepped back as Samson stuck his head over the barn door in greeting. All two and a half feet of it.

“He’s part draft horse and real sure-footed on the trail. If you haven’t ridden for a while, he’ll take care of you. Here,” J.J. offered Ethan a carrot, then gestured toward Samson. “It will make a good impression.”

Ethan held the carrot and was amazed that six inches so easily disappeared between Samson’s lips. The horse bit down and snapped the carrot just shy of Ethan’s fingers. He reached up with his other hand and stroked the horse’s face from forehead to nose. Samson seemed gentle enough as he plucked the remaining carrot part from Ethan’s hand. Feeling they had established a bond, Ethan left the barn to scout the perimeter of the immediate area, keeping his eyes open for game trails and locations where one could hide amongst the shadows of the trees and watch the activities of the lodge.

There were more places than he could keep track of and decided it was a waste of his time to try to link the possible killer to a shot he, or she, might make from inside the lodge or the surrounding area. Since the shade of the forest was degrees colder than the spring sun, he found a boulder at the edge of the parking area to sit and warm himself in the sunshine.

With the pad of paper in his hand, he extracted his pencil from his shirt pocket, opened to a fresh page, and let his pencil sketch his thoughts. There was nothing in the current client folders that led him to believe any of them had a grudge against Bear Tanner. The employees he had met so far were also unlikely suspects. Alyssa, just about to graduate from high school, admitted that she doesn’t hunt or fish, and barely knows how to hold and shoot a gun. He had already eliminated Zach, and J.J. had eyes only for the residents in the barn. But he hadn’t met Ray, Donna, or the seasonal employees. He would ask Shaun about records of past clients and any who seemed unhappy with their experience with Tanner’s outfit. Former employees could also hold a grudge. That would be several files and a lot of paperwork to read through. Angry acquaintances may show up at the funeral, and he added procuring an invitation to the event to the growing list in his mind.

He paused and looked across the parking area at the approaching vehicle. Shaun had returned from the airport with the other sister. Carli and Zach came out to meet them. He stood, ready to make his way toward the gathering, then glanced down at his pad of paper. Flipping back two pages, he found three sketches of Alyssa, another of Zach. The other two pages were filled with pictures of Carli. He managed to capture her spark of mischief, and a full-length drawing depicted the back of her as she had walked away from him, just before she entered the kitchen. Her hair fell in soft curls to the middle of her shoulders. A flannel shirt was tucked into snug jeans that revealed her heart-shaped backside. He flipped the pages so the blank one was on top and went to join the party.

Dan glanced in the rearview mirror and saw “Buckshot Taxidermy and Meat Processing” grow smaller. Billy was excited at the prospect of the bear. There would be some extra hide removed from the belly in order to disguise the shots fired that brought down the grizzly. The head was undamaged, and they had discussed what the finished product would look like and the cost of the work. Both deer would be stripped, the meat packaged and shipped to their home addresses, the heads mounted, the hides cured.

On the return drive to Centennial, it was decided that they would split up, one pair heading up to the Ridge, the other taking the bottom of Pine Canyon. They could stay through Sunday, head back to Laramie, and Buckshot, Saturday morning. The weatherman predicted cold temperatures, in the twenties at night, fifties during the day. If they got anything, the lower temps would help preserve the carcass. Just to make sure, they would load up with ice at the gas station. There was still snow on the ground, and they could use that as well. They would clean their weapons and check their gear tonight and be ready to set out early in the morning.

By the time they returned to camp, it was late afternoon. A small fire was started to begin heating coals for Dutch ovens and water for coffee. It crossed Dan’s mind how far away they were from the lodge, and he hoped none of the clients or employees wandered down the road where they were camped. Poaching was illegal. So was trespassing. He didn’t want to contemplate paying the fines and instead thought of the money he would get for the trophies dropped off at Buckshot.