Peabody parked the jeep. “It’s about a mile in from here,” he said. “Do you want to hike in? Or does this show you what you’re looking for?”
Mac glanced at him. Shrewd man, he thought.
“Can we, Mac? Do we have time?” Angie asked. “I could do with stretching my legs. And I’d love to get some photographs of this area.”
Mac hesitated. He would just as soon get back, but there was no reason to deny her. He shrugged. “Sure,” he said. He turned to Peabody. “Lead the way.”
He thought he saw amusement in Peabody’s eyes, but the man just took a shotgun out of the jeep’s lock box. “I’m cautious these days,” he said. “Too many wild animals with babies. And that makes mamas nervous.”
Mac laughed. He slung his backpack over his shoulder. “I was expecting concern about whoever is taking potshots at rangers,” he admitted.
Peabody grinned and headed off on a narrow trail up hill. Mac gestured for Angie to follow, and he brought up the rear.
Thirty minutes later they’d basically followed that rushing stream upwards into the mountains and into the ravine. Coming at it like this, they entered the ravine at its base, not the rim. Mac could see what Peabody meant. This had been a pleasant hike. But if you were coming down from above you’d think this was rugged and remote. A good place to toss a body. But only if you didn’t know the area well, he thought suddenly.
“Go ahead,” Peabody said. “Say it.”
Mac looked at him. “So, you think it too,” he said. “The man was hunted. And when it looked like he was going to escape, someone killed him, thought he was hiding the body in a remote ravine. Thing is? That means he doesn’t know the area well.”
“Or he didn’t care if the body was discovered,” Peabody said. “Glad to meet someone as suspicious as I am.”
“Someone’s running a remake of The Most Dangerous Game?” Mac said, referring to the classic short story about a hunter who grows bored hunting animals and hunts men instead.
“It would explain our unidentified bodies,” Peabody said. “I think he didn’t care that the body might eventually be found as long as it had been out in the elements to make cause of death unclear. We’ll see if he won that bet.”
Mac nodded. And flattened as he heard the shot. “Down!” he shouted at Angie. The sound echoed through the ravine. Hard to tell where it was coming from. Peabody was crouching behind a rock, his shotgun up to his shoulder, looking along the rim.
“Mac?” Angie asked.
“Crawl to me?” he suggested. She was exposed where she was, although he didn’t think the shot had been aimed at her. Didn’t think it had been aimed at anyone. Just discouragement? Just enough to send them home. Angie got to her feet, but stayed low, and ran to him. He patted her shoulder, and she nodded.
No more shots.
“Time to head back,” Peabody said finally.
And that was what the shooter wanted, Mac thought, but he didn’t protest. He was no trained crime scene specialist. He wasn’t going to find anything and say aha!
So why was someone scaring them off?
The question stuck with him as they hiked back out.
The ride back was silent. As they pulled back into the gravel parking lot, Angie said suddenly, “I don’t get it. Why shoot at us?”
Peabody parked, turned off the jeep. “Best answer I’ve come up with is they’re discouraging us from going into the park.”
Mac thought about that. “Are hikers reporting potshots?”
Peabody shook his head. “Just rangers,” he said. “Just the rangers.”
They thanked the ranger and drove into Sedro-Woolley to look for lunch.
“There is something called the Mestizo Mexican restaurant,” Angie said. “Willing to try it? Or there’s a burger place that’s supposed to be good.”
“Your dad?” Mac asked, teasing.
She laughed. “Nope, Yelp. But the menu doesn’t look any different than any other Mexican restaurant.” She sounded disappointed.
“I’m game,” he said. “And then I want to see if anyone is around Wilderness Adventures.”
The food was good, typical Pacific Northwest style Mexican food. Mac missed Tex-Mex sometimes, from his days in El Paso. But this was good, and he was hungry.
“So, what do you think?” Mac asked. “Tells?”
Angie smiled, but she looked troubled. “He was expecting someone to shoot at him,” she said.
Mac nodded. “Whole thing is weird as shit,” he admitted. He shrugged. “So, we keep gathering string, until it makes sense.”
“He was awfully blunt for being recorded,” she observed. “I wanted to like him for it. But...:” She trailed off with a shrug.
Mac was surprised. He’d liked the man. “But you didn’t like him?” he asked curiously.
She shook her head, troubled by it. By something. “Will you check with the coroner’s office on Monday?” she asked.
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ll do that,” he said.
He took time to make a list of his growing follow up calls and questions, and then they drove past Wilderness Adventures. No surprise that it was closed on a late Saturday afternoon this early in the season. They stopped to look around. It looked like your typical shop, Mac thought, peering into the windows. Part travel agency, part REI. Some white-water rafts and kayaks out back. He grabbed a brochure from the bin by the front door.
“Time to head back to the hotel,” Mac said. “Unless you’ve got better ideas?”
Angie looked tired. “No, I’m good,” she said. “I’m not even going to ask for more tulip photos.”
“Thank God,” he said.
Angie laughed.
It was easy to talk to Angie, Mac thought, on the way home. He found he liked having someone to bounce ideas off. He’d always worked stories alone. If he talked about a story with anyone, it was Janet. Sending a photographer along had been a good idea, and sending Angie along had been inspired. She saw things differently, partially because she was more visual than he was, and partially because she had a knack with people. He probably wouldn’t have gone by
