Chapter 7
Chuck Markham shrugged and then shrugged again to reposition the rifle he carried slung across his shoulders. Finally he made himself face the three men who’d hired him. No one, himself included, had shaved in the past four days. Neither had any of them changed their clothes, and although he was accustomed to forgoing the so-called necessities for days, even weeks at a time if the conditions warranted it, his clients had done so much complaining that he wondered what the hell they thought this hunting trip was going to be, a resort vacation?
The eldest of the trio, Elliott Lewis, was in the best shape, and that wasn’t saying much. Of course they’d all be doing a lot better if they hadn’t insisted on bringing half their worldly possessions with them.
Hell, that wasn’t his problem. What was, was finding them something they could shoot and take back home to mount on a wall, not because he gave a damn about their macho pride but because satisfied customers sent more business his way.
“Wait just a minute,” Elliott insisted when Chuck started walking again. “I’m not taking another miserable step until I know where we’re going.”
“I told you.” Chuck didn’t care whether he kept irritation out of his voice or not. If worse came to worst, he’d already gotten half of his fee up front. “After that little stunt Owen pulled, we’ve got to get to higher elevation.”
“Little stunt!” Owen snapped. “I was freezing, just like everyone else, you included. The fire I-”
“The fire you set could have tipped off someone, like a forest ranger or cop, and you know it. And it’s so far from freezing that it isn’t funny.” Stepping closer to Owen, Chuck jutted his chin at the bank executive and stared until Owen dropped his gaze. “One more stunt like that, and I’m pulling the plug on this adventure of yours. You all said you understood the risks, and the necessity of caution. So far I’ve seen damn little of that. The way you plunge through the woods, it ain’t my fault you’ve scared everything away.”
“The hell you’re backing out!” Elliott looked as if he was going to shake his fist, but wound up scratching under his chin.
“We’re paying you plenty to-”
“I know what you’re paying me, but all the money in the world isn’t going to get me anywhere if I’m in jail, is it?”
No one had a response for that, which suited him just fine. It was his guess, based on more than fifteen years of experience as a hunting guide, that these white collar types had boasted to everyone they could get to listen that they’d come back with a trophy elk, mountain sheep, bear, or all three if possible. And given the circles these men moved in, no one was likely to blow the whistle on their illegal activities, just give them a hard time about being skunked.
Skunked. They shouldn’t be, no way. The game was out there. He’d all but walked them into a black bear’s den a couple of days ago, but no, the fools hadn’t kept their mouths shut and the bear had bolted. Yesterday five, maybe six deer bad done the same. The only thing that could ruin this particularly lucrative expedition was their own stupidity-stupidity that placed a smoking camp fire at the top of the list. Well, he’d let Owen know in no uncertain terms that he’d leave him out in the middle of nowhere if he so much as thought about pulling another stunt like that.
If it wasn’t for the money, he wouldn’t have anything to do with the men and occasional woman who believed that having the money to do whatever they wanted put them above the law. Not that he could think of any other way he’d rather make a living, not by a long shot. It beat being a mechanic all hollow.
What he did for a living was a game. The biggest challenge out there and a lot safer than robbing banks, which he’d never wanted to do anyway. Him and his clients against the bumbling, ineffective cops and rangers who kept trying to put him out of business. What the law would never understand was that all it got out of this cat and mouse chase was years and years of work followed by a measly pension while he was already rich and getting richer.
And all he had to do to keep the money rolling in was give his clients the hunt of their lives.
“You’re sure?” her mother asked as Shannon knew she would. “You really don’t want anyone else up there? I mean, now that you know where he is-”
“Mom, there’s nothing an army can do that Cord and I can’t. Besides, I don’t want to embarrass Matt.”
“Neither do I. But if his tracks were from yesterday-darn it. I want to hold that boy so much I can hardly stand it.”
Shannon felt the same way, maybe even more so. At least the grinding, painful knot in her stomach had eased now that they were on Matt’s trail. It would only be a matter of time, just a matter of time. She told her mother that, and her mother agreed. They both played the game so well.
She and Cord had stopped to rest the horses again, and she’d prided herself on having the presence of mind to check on their condition before getting in touch with her folks. It both helped to hear her mother’s voice and made her ache with the need to hear another voice, this one younger, louder, enthusiastic about everything.
Catching herself in mid-thought, she realized that her mother was saying something about how it had rained like crazy for about fifteen minutes shortly after they got there this morning but that the signs were getting more and more hopeful. “What about where you are?” Elizabeth asked. “Is it cold?”
“No,” she said, Although she’d learned she had to keep moving to stay warm. Belatedly she remembered why her parents were at her place and asked how things were going. She was told that most of her customers had canceled their morning rides but so far those set to come in this afternoon still planned to. She apologized for taking her mother from her job with the Summit County tourism association and her dad from what was supposed to have been a day off work to go golfing.
“Don’t you worry about us, honey,” her dad said, as she knew he would. “I wouldn’t have been able to golf in the rain anyway and helping your mom gives me an excuse not to show up at the office.”
Finally, at her father’s request, she turned the walkie-talkie over to Cord.
Although she tried to let them have as private a conversation as possible, she was aware that Cord’s responses were both brief and formal. Once, Cord and her father had called each other friends, but divorce had ended their relationship. She wondered if either man regretted what had been lost.
For a moment, she felt a pang of guilt. It wasn’t her fault, was it? She couldn’t be expected to stay married to a man who locked himself away from her and her need to have someone to listen to her after their infant daughter died. Could she?
As recently as two years ago she could have thrown back a decisive no in answer to her question. She was no longer so sure. Time had blunted the worst of that awful pain, and lately she’d allowed herself to try to see the past through Cord’s eyes, to ask herself what he’d been going through, and whether she’d failed him as much as the other way around.
It didn’t matter. Nothing did, except-A distant rumbling caught her attention. Turning in the same direction as Cord, she scanned the gray sky until the sound was directly overhead. She couldn’t see the plane for the clouds, but she guessed it wasn’t very large, probably belonging to one of several local private pilots.
“What do you suppose he’s doing?” she asked Cord as he put the walkie-talkie away. “If it was me, I’d wait until the visibility was better before going out on a sight-seeing flight. Darn, I wish we could reach him and tell him to keep his eye out for Matt. Do you think-”
“I already talked to the sheriff. He said he’d contact the local pilots and the forest service.”
She should have thought of that. Where had her brain gone? “I’m glad you did. If Dale hears something, he’ll contact you, won’t he?”
“Yes. Of course.” Cord nodded and then muttered something she didn’t catch. She thought to ask him to repeat himself, then decided it didn’t matter. The only thing that kept her from dismissing the plane and its pilot, who probably couldn’t see the ground because of the storm, was the way Cord kept his head cocked toward the sound until it faded into nothing. She wondered if he would look at her, say something, but he didn’t. The sight of his broad back as he returned to work served as the only reminder she needed that leaving him had saved her
