Beneath a Winter Moon (14 page)

“Well, I guess we’d better get going, then,” Craig said. “I’ll grab the photos.”

“Sure,” Alan said in a daze, getting up and heading for the door. “I’ll just meet you outside.”

Inside the Bronco Alan sat, different scenarios flashing through his mind. No matter how many ways he created the scene, the movement of the body really bothered him. No...it was the
unceremonious
way the rider was moving it...dragging it through the snow and dirt behind a horse. That was wrong.
Maybe the rider murdered him.
“Stop it,” He said aloud. There hadn’t been a murder up here in his lifetime—probably his dad’s lifetime, too.
Wait…dad was on duty last night at the airfield and on the radio
. His father would have known if someone radioed anything unusual from that cabin. The Svensons had a base station at the cabin. It might be that someone had radioed all this in and Alan had not heard the scuttlebutt just yet. He sighed. It was unlikely. He had seen several friends at Enoch’s and none of them mentioned anything…and the crowd there would have any news before most people in town.

Alan jumped, startled at the sound of the passenger door opening.

“Sorry,” Craig said.

“No problem,” Alan answered He turned on the windshield wipers to shove half an inch of snow off of the windshield. “Here we go…”

 The three officers on shift at the headquarters of Hope’s Royal Mounted Canadian Police stared down at the photos on the counter. The town had just over five thousand people listed as citizens, and they had nine RCMP officers in all and were due to receive four more. There was one Constable, Constable O’Brien, who sat in a nearby office looking out at the group as the three corporals stared at the photographs. The corporals looked puzzled, as if deciding whether or not the photos were even worth the effort but the constable strode over and picked up the magnifying glass, gently shoving corporal Jeanice aside. After a minute he looked hard at Alan and Craig and said the photos should be moved to his office and should not be displayed here at the front entrance. Constable O’Brien looked at least sixty years old and was pudgy but not fat, and had a look about him that suggested he had been rode hard and put up wet.

“Look here, constable,” Craig said after they settled into the constable’s office. Craig was pointing to the ‘before and after’ photos of the leg. He then pointed to the photo of what looked like a body being pulled by a man on a horse.

“Well, now…” the constable began, “It surely could be a leg...or it might just be a boot and a trick of the light, but I think that photo isn’t one I’d be concerned with.” He tapped one of the photos with the edge of Craig’s magnifying glass. “Now this one...this one might just be a body…”

“Might be?” Alan sputtered, “Pardon me, constable, but I think that…”

“Yes, yes. You have already told me what you think.”

“But, these are friends of mine…friends of just about everyone,” Alan began, and then closed his mouth when he met the constable’s steely gaze.

“Okay then, gentlemen. Thank you for bringing me the photos. I will keep them and
we
will handle this from here. I ask that you please not mention this to anyone else. This is a small town and it would not take much to raise a panic or get a whole lot of people headed out to that cabin to see what’s what.”

“You are going to go out there, aren’t you?” Craig asked.

“Look outside,
Mr
…”

“Craig….”

“Right…look outside. Do you see that snowstorm? You two will be lucky to get back to the hotel in your vehicle. I certainly cannot fly out to that cabin in any sort of weather like this…or take a boat…there is ice on the lake, you know…”

“But…constable…there is something else,” Alan said. “There is no sign of the
Svenson’s
helicopter, either, and I’ve heard that he has a hunt scheduled. The helicopter would be right
there
.” He put his finger on a photo that displayed the empty landing pad. Alan wasn’t absolutely positive that the helicopter should have been there this morning but it made sense, so he went with it.

“I will check with the airfield and see if I can narrow down the whereabouts of the Svensons and their helicopter, of course...but this is a police matter, now, gentlemen. Please see corporal Jeanice on the way out. He will need your information. I am sure I will need to contact you fairly soon.”

Alan felt that he could not leave with things as they were. “What if there are wounded people up there?” he asked, trying not to convey his building anger. “What if others who might be heading to the cabin right now, say, oh, I don’t know—the
Svenson
family
...what if they are in danger?”

At that, the constable stood up, meeting Alan’s gaze. “Son, I have been in law enforcement for going on forty years. I have investigated every type of crime and misinterpreted circumstance that there is. Now...I understand that whoever
might
be, and I say again,
might
be in that photo being dragged has friends and loved ones. I get it, Mr. Tucker. But I will not explain the actions that this office may or
may not
take...to you.” The man’s face was red. “Now, leave us to do our jobs, please, so that we can protect and serve the people of Hope in the way that is best, rather than in the way that
you
want.”

He sat back down. “Oh...and I will require the rest of these photos along with any negatives that are in your possession, Mr. Craig. I’ll send corporal
Ducheyne
to retrieve them from your hotel.”

Craig nodded, “Of...of course, constable.”

Alan thought of protesting again, just to be argumentative, but decided against it.

Back in the Bronco Craig said, “He doesn’t seem too concerned...not to mention that he is a real asshole.”

“No, he doesn’t seem concerned,” Alan replied. “But I am. Others will be, too. My plane can land on the lake with no problem and I am tempted to fly up there myself as soon as there is a break in the weather. Old constable numb nuts will probably analyze the photos for days before going up there to check it out.”

“You really thinking of going? Don’t you think it might be dangerous?”

“Steven would do it for any of us. Something is obviously
very
wrong out there and I know for a fact that Steven has a group of hunters up north on the new lease. If he knew anything was wrong back at the camp, he’d be there in a heartbeat.”

“How do you know he wasn’t…well…maybe the man on the horse?”

“Two reasons. One, Steven would never do anything like that. Two, his helicopter is not at the camp. If he were there, so the helicopter would, too.”

“I don’t know, Alan. Police where I come from have some stiff penalties for interference. Besides, maybe he really will get out there quickly.”

“Let me tell you what I know about our good constable,” Alan said. “Who, by the way, has only been with us for about six months. Word is that he was kicked off of an important team in
Victoria
and as punishment he was exiled here. So, how much do you think he cares about us? He’s probably about to retire and he probably wants to do as little work as possible until he gets his pension.” Alan leaned forward instinctively, trying to see through the falling snow as he drove slowly back to Craig’s hotel.

“I want to go.”

“What?” Alan asked. “Are you serious? Mr. Craig, look…I haven’t said for sure I am going and if I did, well, like you said…interference and all.”

“I can help with evidence. I can take photos that we can bring back to the constable.” He paused and waited but Alan ignored the idea. “Okay...then how about you take me up for another flyover, and maybe we just
happen
to have to land at the cabin to check on the engine or something?”

Alan pulled in front of the hotel and parked. He rubbed his chin. “That isn’t such a bad idea. I mean...if I had some engine trouble and was forced to land there...” He paused, “Before I do anything, I need to check with my dad and find out if he heard anything over the radio at the airfield.”

Craig nodded.

“Tell you what—I’ll drive out to his place…and then I’ll call you, after. Even if I decide to go, we have to wait for this to die down well enough to fly...and that might be a while.”

“I’ll go in and give the corporal the rest of the photos and get something to eat and wait for you to call.” Craig smiled and stuck out his hand.

Alan shook the hand and saw the absolute glee in Craig’s eyes…as if he were one of the Hardy boys about to crack a new case. Alan was having second thoughts about his going along…but Craig was right. A professional photographer would come in handy.

“Don’t be disappointed if I decide not to go at all…and please don’t tell anyone,” Alan said.

Craig nodded his head enthusiastically and hopped out of the Bronco. Alan drove toward his parent’s home…not wasting time to try to call. He knew they wouldn’t answer.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“That hermit guy’s cabin is a lot closer than the lake.” Delmar said.

Thomas thought about that for a minute. “But don’t you think that if he had a radio he would have heard our calls? I mean…that’s too close not to have heard. Besides, if our radio isn’t picking up a signal from here…well his cabin isn’t much closer.”

“
We
don’t have a base station. According to Steven’s notes on the map, this man does. And, you are assuming that the guy sits around with the radio on. He probably only turns the thing on when he has too. From what we’ve heard he only comes into town a couple times a year. Fuel for a generator is probably hard to get up here, so he conserves it—and if he’s using batteries then you know he wouldn’t keep it on.”

Thomas shook his head. “I don’t know. We know that we’ll be able to get a message out from Steven’s cabin.”

“Kyle can’t answer us and that is as likely because of a busted radio as it is anything else.” He opened his hands in a pleading gesture. “We’d spend two days getting to the lake but we can reach this guy’s cabin in maybe ten hours or so. We’d be at his cabin by daylight.”

“What if he is not there? What then?”

“We go inside and use his radio, anyway…and then hot-foot it back to the helicopter. If rescue comes for them while we are gone, we still call in for a pickup from his cabin.”

Thomas sighed. “Or we stay here and help keep Steven comfortable and keep us all in one place...all together.” Thomas said.

“We have no reason to wait. Jenny said herself that if Kyle had contacted the airfield we’d be boarding air rescue right now. Something is just wrong at Steven’s cabin. If we wait, we take a bigger risk….and that is bad for Steven.”

“Don’t go there,” Thomas said. “I think this has as much to do with your restlessness and your constant need to be right in the middle of the fray as it does anything else. Don’t kid yourself that this is
all
about Steven.”

Delmar threw his hands up. “Then forget it. You stay here and I will go.”

“What is going on with you, Delmar? You’re the one who always preached that playing by the rules and doing the smart thing was the way to accomplish the mission. This leaves a whole lot to chance...so, what’s going on?” Thomas stared at his friend.

“I just don’t want to wait for days and days. Come on...you and I have crossed country worse than this…hell…
in our sleep
this would be easy. You know we can do it, and we can do it quick.”

Thomas didn’t answer. He was unsure if he understood all of his friend’s motives. The smart thing might very well be to head for Jeremiah’s cabin but Delmar seemed to have discarded all other possibilities.

Thomas stood his ground. “I’m missing something here. You need to tell me what it is.”

Delmar shook his head. “It’s just what I think is right. We need to get out sooner than later.”

“Nah...I don’t believe you. Not this time. I think there’s something else going on. I don’t know what it is but I
know
something is going on inside that massive head of yours.” He shook his head. “Nope.”

Delmar sighed.

“That’s it,” Thomas said, “I’m out. And if you
are
crazy enough to go on your own, then you go ahead…but don’t act like you’ve been straight with me.” He turned back to the helicopter.

“Wait,” Delmar said.

Thomas stopped and turned and raised his hands in a questioning gesture.

“I’ll tell you about it on the way. It is something I didn’t want you guys to know. Not yet, anyway.”

Thomas did not like his friend’s tone. Something about it worried him.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe it will when you hear it…just
not
before we are on the way.”

Thomas walked over and looked down at the map. “You plot the route to Jeremiah’s cabin and then from there to the lake in case we need to go there, too. Then
you
lay it all out for Daniel. If someone comes, he will need to be able to tell them exactly where we went, so estimate the distance and time and write down where you think we will be at two hour intervals.”

“Got it,” Delmar said.

“If we get to this guy’s cabin and no one is there and there’s not a working radio, we have wasted a lot of time.”

“Daniel can ask air rescue to do a flyover from here to the cabin if they come while we’re gone.”

“Daniel is going to be pissed,” Thomas said.

“He’ll see the light.”

“As soon as we hit the wood line, you are going to start telling me just what the hell is up with you. Got it? That’s the deal.”

“Absolutely, hero, and you know what? This will be just like that time at Dahlonega, when we had to move twelve clicks through the night in that snowstorm…only this time it will be fun.”

Thomas looked up at the approaching clouds. “I am sure it will be a blast.”

Thomas checked Steven again and was worried to see that his breathing seemed even shallower. His pupils still failed to react. Thomas felt that Steven might be in a coma, but he was not sure enough to say that to Jenny.

Daniel was indeed, pissed, but he knew there was no need for further discussion. All he could do now was hope that Thomas and Delmar came through.

Two hours later, Thomas and Delmar stood outside the helicopter, snowflakes gently falling around them. Both men had backpacks on their shoulders, filled with just enough gear and food to get by for two days. Delmar left his rifle with Daniel—
“
just in case,” he had said to his friend as he handed it over. Thomas shouldered his bolt action 30.06. He had attached the scope to the rifle’s over-and-under scope mounts, which would allow him to use the ordinary iron sites for anything up close. He also carried a starlight, night vision rifle scope and a set of old, military-grade night vision goggles. Delmar and Daniel both had pairs of the same model, ‘confiscated’ from their units during out-processing.

Thomas shuddered when he thought of using his rifle. They were no longer on a hunt, which meant if he had to use it, it would be in a time of need. Up here that could only mean that they were being threatened by a grizzly or some other hungry or just all-around mean predator. They had not even taken one step away and already Thomas was reliving the previous night’s spooky sounds. He did not want to hear it again, whatever the hell had made that sound, and he could not bring himself to think of having to face whatever it was. Those thoughts made him a little more appreciative of the rifle on his shoulder.

He was the best shot of the three friends. They had all been through sniper school while in the Army, but only Thomas had ever been assigned to a sniper position within a unit. While in that role, he had seen action on many occasions. Delmar liked to say that Thomas could shoot one bullet into the bull’s-eye and then the rest of his bullets on top of the first. Thomas appreciated the praise, but truth be told, he rarely looked forward to using the weapon. Sure, he enjoyed their hunts, but when it was over, the rifle went back on the rack and he didn’t so much as give it a second thought until the next year. He was glad that Delmar had not wanted to carry a rifle, which would have put Thomas in a position to have to leave his own with Daniel or leave Daniel with nothing more than Steven’s 9mm.

The 30.06
Springfield
was a staple for snipers and had been since World War II. There were plenty of reasons to gravitate toward the newer rifles with their arguably greater precision, but Thomas liked the feel of the rifle and liked that it was as good for shooting a deer as it was for going after something bigger. The rifle fired the massively popular 7.62mm round, thus ammo was never a problem.

Their packs were not very heavy but carried enough weight so that the straps already cut into their shoulders and under their arms. They both wore polypropylene under loose-fitting cargo pants and shirts, topped off by a layer of the finest Gore-Tex camouflaged jackets and pants. Thomas was not wearing polypropylene leggings. He recalled too many occasions where his legs became way too hot while on the move. Sweating in these conditions could end up being fatal. Hypothermia was always just a few minutes away from the careless mountain traveler, whether it be the summer or winter months.

Jenny came out to say goodbye and wished them well and told them to hurry. Daniel shoved Delmar hard and called him a “sorry bastard,” but it meant nothing more than
be careful
and was typical of their relationship.

Saying goodbye to Jack had been the hardest. He held the dog close and buried his face in the cold, soft fur while he promised to be back soon. He told his furry friend to guard the helicopter. Daniel had smiled and said Jack would get royal treatment while they were gone. Only the best for the Husky, he promised. Still, Thomas hated leaving the dog behind, but thought it would be best.

The two men waved once more to their friends and then turned and headed northwest toward what they hoped would be the quickest way to bring help in for Steven. It was 6:15pm by Thomas’s watch, which meant about five hours of daylight—maybe four and a half if they were in thick trees. He would be counting down the minutes and hours, wishing that the darkness would not come.

The snowfall was heavier, the flakes as big as a half-dollars as they made their way through the forest. Neither had said a word since parting with their friends some thirty minutes ago. Finally, Thomas spoke up. “So, it’s time to fess up to whatever is going on inside that satellite that you call a head.”

Delmar chuckled as he ducked a low pine branch that was heavy with snow. “It’s not in my head, Hero.”

“And?” Thomas prodded.

“I hate to tell you…you and Daniel more than anyone. I hadn’t planned on telling either of you…I guess I knew I would have to…but not yet.”

Thomas suddenly worried for his friend. This did not sound good at all.

“I’ve got pancreatic cancer, bud. It’s inoperable. This will be my last hunt…my last adventure, my friend. I’m sorry.”

Thomas froze. Delmar stopped just ahead of him and turned. They looked at each other for a moment.

“Jesus,” Thomas said. He was in agony for his friend and his heart felt like it was going to burst right out of his throat. He was a grown man but he was on the verge of bawling like a little kid. Delmar had been his mentor in the Army and had been a trusted and close friend for so long that he could not imagine this world without him in it.

“
You’re
sorry?” Thomas said, almost choking up. “Christ, Delmar, how long have you known and why the hell
didn’t you tell us
?”

Delmar lowered his head a little and took off his Russian style, fur-lined hat and shook off the snow. “I found out too late, Thomas. There was nothing that could’ve been done. It spread too far and too fast. Hell, the doctors didn’t even argue when I refused chemo.”

“You refused chemo? But—wait…you got other opinions, right? My sister knows this great doctor…”