Her name was Margaret Cooper and she was the sole office employee of Wilderness Adventures and had been for twenty-five years, she said. She wore thick glasses and her hair was tightly curled and looked like steel wool. She wore jeans, a white shirt that bulged in the middle, and a Western pattern vest embroidered with cowgirls and lariats. The lobby of the office was filled with large cardboard boxes reading DELL.
“We’re in the process of computerizing,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “Jed is making me learn how to run one of those things. He says it will make us more efficient, but I think it’s, you know, a
Cody nodded curtly. He noticed the telephone on her desk was blinking with messages.
“Don’t you answer your phone?” he asked. “My colleague was calling you all morning.”
“Of course I answer the phone,” she said, her eyes flashing behind those thick lenses. “But it’s a little hard to do when you’re sitting in a computer class the entire morning learning how to work a program called Excella.”
“Excel,” Cody said. “So you haven’t been in until now?”
“I just got here a half hour ago,” she said, still miffed at him. “I was working. I just wasn’t here. Jed insisted I take that class once a week and today is the day.”
Cody said, “Do you have the list of clients on the current trip? I need to look at it.”
“Of course I have it,” she said. “But can you tell me why you want to see who is on it? Isn’t this kind of an invasion of privacy?”
Cody caught himself before he rolled his eyes. “I don’t see how it could be,” he said. “Look, I need to know if my son is on this trip. It’s important. There’s an emergency in the family.”
“You won’t be able to contact him,” she said, shaking her head. “There’s no way to communicate with a pack trip once they’ve left into the park. There are no cell things.”
“Towers,” he said. “Look, I know that. But if he’s on it I need to know. I’ll figure the rest out.”
She squinted at him and pursed her lips. “Your manner is very brusque.”
“Sorry,” he said, stepping toward her. “But show me the
She made a show of sighing dramatically, then turned around and approached the filing cabinets. “I know where everything is,” she said. “I have my own filing system. Apparently, it aggravates Jed that he can’t find anything, even though I’ve tried to explain to him how it works. Let’s see, today is July first, so 07/01. Seven corresponds with G in the alphabet, the seventh letter. One corresponds with A…” She reached for a middle drawer and pulled it out and started fingering through tabs marked by handwritten letters.
Cody tried to remain calm.
“Here it is,” she said, pulling a file. “All the applications and signed releases of liability. And here,” she said, slipping a single handwritten sheet out of the file, “is the complete list in alphabetical order.”
He snatched it out of her hand and read down the list.
1. Anthony D’Amato
2. Walt Frank
“His Richness,” Cody mumbled. “Damn it.”
3. Justin Hoyt
Cody scanned the rest of the list:
4. James Knox
5. Rachel Mina
6. Tristan Glode
7. Donna Glode
8. Andre Russell
9. Ted Sullivan
10. Gracie Sullivan
11. Danielle Sullivan
12. K. W. Wilson
None of the other names rang a bell. But he thought one of them might produce a ViCAP hit.
“I’ll need that back,” she said.
“In a minute,” he said, shuffling through the applications. Here, in the folder he held in his hand, were the names, addresses, physical descriptions, and details of each client on the trip. He was ecstatic. “Where’s your fax machine?”
“Is it long distance?” she asked. “You know, each fax is just like a long-distance phone call.”
Cody dug in his pocket and threw her a twenty-dollar bill. “That should cover it.”
“Where are you faxing the pages?” she asked.
“Just tell me where the goddamn machine is,” he said.
“No need to be like that,” she said, pointing to a supply room behind her.
While Cody fed in each page and transmitted it to Larry, he turned on the copy machine next to the fax. After each application was sent he made a copy for himself. Margaret Cooper was at her desk retrieving telephone messages, and had left him alone. He hoped she wouldn’t object to him making copies but it didn’t matter-he was taking the applications with him. Because one of these people, he thought, killed Hank Winters and was near his son.
When he was through he returned all the original documents to the folder and stuffed the copies in under his shirt.
He handed the folder to her at her desk.
“Why do you suppose a detective is calling me?” she asked him. “Is this your colleague? Are you a policeman?”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she said, suddenly sitting up straighter.
“Undercover,” he said. “And this matter is confidential. Please tell no one I was here. Do you understand?”
She nodded furiously.
“Now I need you to think for a minute,” he said. “What is the best way to catch up to the pack trip? Don’t tell me the outfitter doesn’t have a satellite phone or some way to get in touch with the outside world.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t.”
“How can that be in this day and age?” Cody spat. “What if the Park Service needs to contact him? What if he’s got an emergency, like a client has a heart attack or something?”
She smiled sympathetically. “Then he’s to locate a park ranger and the park ranger places the call. You don’t understand how they can be. The Park Service, I mean. Such bureaucracy! They’re the reason Bull Mitchell finally sold the business. I wish he never had. I know
Cody took a deep breath. “Okay, so I can’t call them. So how would I find them? Is there a designated route? Doesn’t the Web site indicate they stay at a specific camp every night of the trip?”
She nodded her head. “Unless they camp somewhere else,” she said. “Things happen out there. Sometimes they’ll camp in other places, or even on a different trail if the trail is washed out or trees fall over it or something.
