He looked at the drive in his hand, a questioning look on his face. “Why’d it take you so long to find this?”
“The clothes I’d worn the day I got into it with those assholes were covered in blood. I stuffed everything in a plastic bag and forgot about them until yesterday, when I was washing clothes up by Wildacres.”
He looked back at the drive, and nodded. “Okay. Thanks. Now how much longer you going to be up at this writing thing?”
I relaxed inwardly when he bought my story. “About another eleven days. If you need me back in Charlotte, just give a call. Right now, I’m gonna head up the hill.”
“You had breakfast?” he asked. At my headshake, he stood. “Good, I’m starving. There a place in this terminal you can buy me something to eat?”
* * *
The morning drive to Wildacres was interrupted by a stop at a grocery store in the town of Marion. I’d contacted Mom after seeing Mike off, to find out what I could bring back for a “Happy Hour” celebration tonight. Before suggesting different types of wine, she’d reminded me there were 45 folks who would love it if snacks were served as well. Five cases of wine and five of beer, plus hors d’oeuvres enough for everyone filled the back of my rig.
I pulled my SUV all the way down to the last building on the hilltop, the dining hall, where Mom had told me I could put the drinks and food in a refrig until party time. Sammy, the head logistician for our retreat plus the kitchen boss, met me at the top of the stairs. “Hey, Sammy. You got enough room to keep this stuff cold awhile?” I waved at the goodies I had in the back of my vehicle. “Mom said you might be bribed, if the right kind of inducement was involved.” I handed over two large bottles of V.O.
Almost round as he was tall, Sammy looked the part of a kitchen chef. “Perfect timing, my man! We’uns had just run outta the Water of Life.” Four other folks appeared and we all became busy moving everything into the kitchen area.
After relocating my SUV closer to the lobby building, I strode inside. “Hi, Jill-I mean Mom. All the goodies are on site. Hope you don’t mind all the fuss this is probably going to be for you, but…”
“Nonsense, Francis.” She gave me a quick hug, then a searching look. “My, you look chipper. What’d you do, get away with robbing a bank or something?”
I gave a broad smile. “Right the first time. No, I just thought we should have a pre-celebration for the fourth of July. It’s only a few days till then, isn’t it?”
She patted my shoulder. “Sounds good to me. Have to get some dance music.” She gave a little two-step. “Maybe even get a few people to dance.”
“In which case I request you consider saving the first dance for me, Milady.”
She gave a tinkling laugh. “Only if you behave yourself, Sirrah!”
* * *
There was a canteen in the basement of one building, where we could gather to gossip and chew the fat around tables and even buy candy, soft drinks or souvenirs. Most all of us here for the Retreat had congregated there before dinner. The noise level was rising when a man and woman hurried in, out of breath. “There’s a body on the trail!” shouted the woman.
The crowd erupted from the canteen, hurrying after the two hikers, me in the middle of the rush. Moments later we arrived at the site, only 300 yards from Wildacres. Ten feet from the trail was a small drop-off. Most people crowded close to its edge, while several had already made their way down to what looked like a man lying face-down in a dry creek bed 20 feet below.
I glanced over the rim of the drop, and quickly raised my voice. “Hey, everyone. We’d better stay back from the site, till the police get here.” I had another thought. “Anyone check to make sure he’s dead?”
“He’s dead,” said an older woman, edging away from the body. “No pulse, and neck looks broken.”
“Ambulance and cops been called,” echoed a voice from the roadway above.
I worked my way down to where the body was. “I’ll keep an eye on things here. Might be a wise idea for everyone to head back to the lodge.”
Gradually the herd thinned, until I was the only one left. The immediate area around the body looked like a herd of buffalo had tromped through. I squatted, trying to fix all the details of the body and its surroundings in my mind. Face battered by the fall onto rocks, shirt cut to ribbons…Looked like something had clawed his back pretty good. Both arms looked to have multiple breaks, the way they were twisted. After a couple of minutes, I stood and stretched. Didn’t feel right. Too much damage for just falling over a twenty foot cliff. Looked like a knife or something sharp had whittled on him.
I cast a thirty foot circle around the body, closely inspecting the ground. There–tracks headed in a northerly direction. I bent down for a closer look. Bear tracks. Would a bear have caused the extra damage I’d seen on the body? Possibly. I shook my head, and followed the tracks. Another fifty feet, and they faded out. Tracks normally didn’t disappear in the middle of a field. I headed back to the body, glancing at the sun that was lowering in the sky. No party tonight.
* * *
Supper was a hurried affair, with only a handful of us taking part. Most folks were still in the canteen or the patio outside of it, discussing what had happened. I was just leaving the dining hall when I had an idea, and headed towards Sammy. “How about taking some of that finger food I brought in this afternoon up to the
