faced that problem before. He hated to do it, but he realized that once he killed Gary, Penny would be dead to him anyway.
The police couldn’t prove he murdered the man in the grocery store. There shouldn’t be anything to connect that murder with the ones he was contemplating now. Even if the authorities hassled him about that one, he should get off. He would be able to start a new life with a clear conscience.
He had to make a plan. He had to restrain his impetuosity. Until the time he saw them enter the laundry, he hadn’t considered the consequences of murdering Gary. If he did it out in the open, he would be arrested. That idea hadn’t bothered him before, but now that he had decided to forge a new life for himself, he needed to be much more careful.
Alfred returned to the parking area, making sure he wasn’t visible from the laundry. He found the green Volkswagen. People were constantly coming in and out of here. A lot of tourists wanted to see Old Faithful. This might be a dramatic spot to commit a murder, but it was a very foolish one. He remembered that they planned to stay in Yellowstone for three nights. They had one night to go. They would undoubtedly stay in a campground.
He had a map of the park, showing all the campgrounds. He had a pretty good idea where they might stay. He could also follow them because they wouldn’t recognize his new car. He had to do it carefully. On the narrow park roads, it would become obvious after a while if he followed them too closely.
He got into his car and looked at his map of the park. As he studied the map, what he should do became clear. He would drive to West Thumb, which was a major intersection. The direction they took from there would determine where they were going to stay for the night. That way he wouldn’t have to follow them much, if at all.
Alfred started the car and drove away, chuckling at his brilliance, until he remembered that he still hadn’t eaten lunch. He would have to tough it out until West Thumb. There would be a place to eat at West Thumb.
Fishing Bridge Camp, northeast of West Thumb, was a rustic campground, with trees and aromas that spoke of the outdoors and the mountains. There was only one thing wrong with it, Penny discovered just after they started making an early dinner: bears.
The seventeenth bear they had seen since entering Yellowstone came ambling through the campground, obviously looking for food. Gary grabbed the pot on the stove and they retreated to the car.
No sooner had they started cooking again than bear number eighteen approached. He was headed for the car, itself, which cut them off from retreat. He put his paws on the front of it and peered into the open hood, which served as a storage area for the rear-engine VW. Gary banged on a pot to move him along. The bear walked away at a leisurely pace.
“Do you think we’re ever going to be able to eat our dinner?” Penny asked. “Or are the bears going to eat our dinner? They seem to think we’re running a restaurant here.”
Gary shrugged. “Eat fast and keep your eyes peeled.”
They did, and no more bears intruded on their repast. That afternoon they had driven north and enjoyed spectacular views of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, including the upper and lower falls. The multi-colored cliffs of the canyon and the ferocity of the dashing waterfalls showcased nature in all its beauty, along with the aura of constant danger.
It was still early when they finished eating. Not wanting to be outside in bear country and too pumped up from the sights of Yellowstone to go to bed, they drove back to see the canyon in the setting sun.
After Penny and Gary passed Alfred at West Thumb, he followed their car. He stayed some distance behind them until he verified that they were going to Fishing Bridge Camp. He had plenty of time to kill. He wouldn’t actually do anything until late tonight when everybody in the campground was asleep. He was getting smarter.
He drove along the park roads, glancing idly at a canyon and some waterfalls. It was pretty, but nothing to get excited about. Later, he stopped at the restaurant at Fishing Bridge and ate dinner there. He dawdled, drinking coffee, until after dark.
He was acquiring a lot of patience. Patience was a virtue. It would soon pay off for him. When the last orange glow of the sun had dropped behind the hills, he drove into the campground. There was no chance that they would spot him in the dark if he inadvertently drove past their campsite. They wouldn’t recognize the car.
He found a campsite for himself and parked the car there. Then he set out on foot to find their campsite. He wore his jacket with the hood up to keep warm. The moon was partly obscured by clouds and provided minimal light. He had found a flashlight in the glove compartment of the Falcon, but he only flicked it on occasionally to help him see into the depths of a campsite.
The easiest way to find their site in the dark was to spot the green VW. After a half hour of tramping around the campground, he hadn’t seen it. Had he covered the whole campground? Or had they decided not to camp here, after all? He leaned against a pine tree to rest and think.
A large black shape glided down the path. Alfred froze. It was a bear. Had it seen him? He tried not to breathe or do anything that would give himself away. The bear ambled along, taking its time. The way it walked, in a somewhat disjointed fashion, made it look clumsy, but there was no doubt about the strength of the muscles rippling under the brown fur. Alfred watched, scared and fascinated, as it disappeared into the dark. He was sweating, in spite of the cold.
It had been dark for some time when Gary and Penny returned to the campground. They parked the car at their campsite, got out their toilet articles, and cleaned their teeth at a restroom. They met in front of the building and started walking back to their campsite. Gary put up his arm to stop Penny. A bear walked by, not ten feet in front of them. They waited until the bear went on its way, and then returned to the tent.
Gary said, “Are you sleepy yet?”
“We could light the lantern and sit at the table, but it’s too cold to write postcards.”
“Let’s go for a walk. That will keep us warm.”
“What about the bears?”
“They haven’t hurt us yet. They’re only after food.”
“Okay, but if we turn out to be their food, it’s your fault.”
The existence of one bear meant that there were bound to be more. Alfred kept looking over his shoulder as he resumed his patrol through the campground. Bears were just another reason he didn’t like the outdoors. He stepped as lightly as he could, hoping they wouldn’t hear him. Hoping he would hear them first. He would be glad when he was safely back in Los Angeles.
It seemed like forever, but it was probably not more than another half hour before he spotted the Volkswagen. He surreptitiously shone the flashlight on it to make sure the car was the right color, because in the dark all cars looked black. He thought he had passed this way before, but it was hard to tell. All the campsites looked alike.
Quiet encompassed the campsite of Penny and Gary. They must be in the tent with their arms around each other. That picture infuriated him. He wouldn’t think of it. Concentrate on what had to be done, he told himself. It was dark at almost all the campsites, especially the ones with tents. Lights shone in a few of the camper shells that sat on the backs of pickup trucks, but not many people were outdoors in the cold. Still, he had better wait until everybody was asleep before he did what he had to do.
To pass some of the time until then, he would make sure he knew the route from here back to his car. He was getting tired of walking; in fact, he was getting downright exhausted, but he had to stay alert, and this was the best way to do it. It would soon be over.
