The Dinosaur Hunter (13 page)

Jeanette took off her hat and tapped it against her leg. “I am a sequential thinker, Dr. Pickford. I see a great deal of work ahead that will result in plastered bones coming down my hill. I see those plastered bones stacking up. Then I see them going somewhere, perhaps when I don't know it, but where would that be?”

“I will need them to go a lab where I can study them properly.”

“Where? Yosemite University?”

“Probably not,” Pick said. “It doesn't have the facilities I need.”

“I'm sure it doesn't,” Jeanette said, tapping her hat harder against her leg, “since it doesn't exist. I checked.”

“It exists wherever I am,” Pick said. “I am Yosemite University.”

“It's a scam, Dr. Pickford, as I suspect you are.”

Pick pursed his lips, then said, “Not a scam. A cover. I have a wide academic background but I can't really tie myself down to only one institution.”

“When you first came on my ranch, you told me you were from UC-Berkeley.”

“I got my doctorate there.”

“That's not what you said. You said you were
from
there, meaning implicitly that you worked there. And then Mike saw your BLM permit and it had on it this mythical Yosemite University.”

Pick took a moment to gather himself, then said, “I already explained that to Mike. Didn't he tell you? Anyway, I'm sorry about that. Sometimes, it's easier to kind of talk in a shorthand way, rather than try to explain everything.”

“In other words, sometimes it's easier to lie,” Jeanette said.

Pick shrugged.

“So,” Jeanette went on, “who do you work for, Dr. Pickford?”

“I work for myself,” he said.

“So,” Jeanette said again, “who do you work for, Dr. Pickford?”

Pick frowned, perhaps thinking Jeanette hadn't heard or misunderstood the answer he'd already given, but then the light came on. “I suppose I work for you.”

“That's right. Anyone who works on the Square C works for me. Anything recovered off the Square C belongs to me. Nothing will be removed from this ranch without my approval. Do we understand one another?”

Pick absorbed that, then said, “Yes, as long as you understand my position. I am here for science, not profit.”

“I think we can both get what we want,” Jeanette said and put her hat on. “Dr. Pickford, you may proceed. How long do you think it will take to excavate the site?”

“The rest of the summer, I think,” Pick said.

“Then let's get on with it.”

“Since you've offered, I need a few things,” Pick said. “Jackhammers, a supply of water for plaster, food and drink for our crew, about a dozen chisels, picks, shovels, pry bars, and ice picks. Also a variety of paint brushes and brooms. I can make up a complete list for you if you like.”

Jeanette gave Pick a hard stare, then said, “Give me your list. I'll see what I can do.”

“I need the jackhammers right away,” Pick said.

“All right, Dr. Pickford,” Jeanette replied testily, then put forth her hand. “Let's make an agreement. Shake.”

Pick grasped her hand. “What are we agreeing to?” he asked.

“We're agreeing to a ten to ninety percent split to any proceeds made from this enterprise,” Jeanette said. “My hand is my bond.”

“Well…” Pick released his hand. “Who gets the ten percent?”

Jeanette chuckled. “You do, Dr. Pickford.”

“That doesn't sound very fair,” he said.

Jeanette was still smiling. “I've done my research. The courts have always sided with the property owner on fossil disputes. So it's my call what you get. I might increase it if I think you've done a good job. I'm not one for signing contracts and getting lawyers involved so you're just going to have to trust me as I've decided, against my better judgment, to trust you. We'll work it out but, for now, you will be rewarded one dollar out of every ten if you can successfully dig up and guide me to the proper marketing of these creatures. Deal?”

“I'm a scientist, not a marketer!” Pick sputtered, but then hung his head, recognizing finally that our boss had him well over her barrel. He allowed a sigh, then said, “All right, Mrs. Coulter. It seems I have no choice on any of this. We have a deal. Please don't forget my jackhammers and the other things on the list I will provide before you leave.”

Jeanette's eyes narrowed. “Don't worry about the jackhammers. You'll get 'em.” She turned and climbed down the hill without another word.

“That is some woman,” Pick muttered and I could tell he was shaken by his encounter with the queen of the prairie.

“You don't know the half of it,” I said and followed Jeanette down the hill. Pick stayed behind, I guess to study the horizon or maybe wonder what he'd got himself into.

I saw Laura climb up and confer with him, then she followed us. “If you'll give me a minute, Mrs. Coulter,” she said, “I'll get you that list.”

Jeanette was willing to give her the minute and together we waited for her. Jeanette said, “These women—what do you think of them, Mike?”

“Very smart. Hard workers.”

“Have they been friendly toward you?”

“Yes. Tanya even shares her vodka.”

“I don't trust them. I don't trust Pick, either.” I had nothing to say about that so she said, “Keep an eye on them for me. Will you do that, Mike?”

“You're the boss,” I said.

Her hand had been absently stroking Nick's neck but at my comment, it stopped. She leveled her gaze at me. “You think I'm wrong for wanting to get something for the Square C? Every year we just squeak by. I can't allow something like this to just be given away.”

“Sometimes,” I said, “there are things more important than money, Jeanette. This might be one of them.”

She gave me one of her dirty looks that, as I looked her in the eye, turned thoughtful. “I am who I am,” she said at length. “The Square C, it's all I've got.”

“It's all I've got, too,” I said before I could stop myself.

“That certainly is not true,” Jeanette replied, then held out her hand, not for me, but for the list that Laura had brought.

“This is most of it,” Laura said.

Jeanette glanced at the list, then handed it to me. “Mike, you know where the credit card is. You and Ray get on down to Miles City and buy the heavy stuff, then come back to Jericho and buy the food. I like to support the local folks where I can. The water for the plaster, you can get from our pump. Use those old drums behind the barn to put it in. Be sure to mark them non-potable. For drinking water, see if you can find a suitable container and fill it up in Miles City. I think our Square C water would give some of these folks the runs. Get going on this right away. That suit you, Miss Wilson?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Jeanette swung up into the saddle with fluid grace. “Ho, Nick,” she said when the stallion stamped a little. Jeanette looked toward the top of the hill where Pick was still posed. She frowned up at him, then clicked her tongue and aimed Nick toward home. I sought out Ray, told him our orders, and we got on our four-wheelers and headed after her.

Ray and I stopped off at our respective domiciles long enough to take showers, then got Bob and headed for Miles City where we bought out the place, pretty much. As I suspected, the heavy equipment we needed couldn't be found so we drove on down to Billings where, after some searching around, we located some used jackhammers, compressors, and tools. Luck was on our side as to a water tank as well. In a Billings junk yard, we found an old army water tank on wheels. We scoured it out, filled it with Billings water, and drove back to Jericho where I needed to stop for a cold one at the Hell Creek Bar. There, to my surprise, I found parked outside a shiny silver hybrid SUV and, within the bar, the Marsh brothers, sitting at a table looking forlorn. They brightened up at the sight of me and Ray, and invited us to sit.

“Can we help you dig?” Brian asked after I told them we were working on a different site.

“Why would you want to do that?” Ray asked. “I thought you just wanted to count cow pies and cause us trouble.”

The brothers looked at each other, then shrugged. “We think we'd rather be paleontologists than environmentalists,” Philip said.

“Yeah. It's more fun,” Brian added.

“Besides, we got fired by Green Planet,” Philip went on. “They said we weren't sufficiently motivated.”

I gave it some thought, then said, “Follow me.” The worst that could happen, I figured, was Pick would send them back. They didn't look particularly strong but I guessed digging could fix that.

We headed to the Square C. By then, the day was over and we spent the night at home, the brothers sleeping in the living room on the floor. Somebody knocked on my door after I'd gone to bed and I got up, pulled on a terry cloth robe, and found Jeanette standing outside. I opened the screen door for her.

She looked around and then had a seat in my easy chair. I sat down on the only other chair which was a folding picnic chair. Jeanette opened with, “Mike, I can't believe how much you spent today.”

I knew where this was going and also knew there was no use arguing about it. “Ray and I did the best we could,” I said.

“That may well be,” she said, “but I was still shocked.”

“Some of the stuff we can sell after we're done with it like the jackhammers, compressors, and water tank,” I pointed out. “Anyway, I guess you have to spend money to make money.”

Jeanette received my homily with something less than enthusiasm. “That's bullshit,” she said, but added, “I know where you're coming from. I hope you didn't offer to pay those brothers.”

“No, but if Pick thinks he needs them, I guess we'll have to feed them,” I said, adding, “we'll go into Jericho tomorrow to get the food.”

“No, I'll do that. You and Ray need to get that equipment out to Blackie Butte. Use Bob and my John Deere. Be careful with both, you hear?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“But you don't need to keep Bob out there. Bring him back, you and Ray, and take the four-wheelers.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Jeanette had her hands on her knees and her fingers were tapping a tune on them. “Wonder what Bill would think about all this?”

“He would have never let Pick cross your land,” I pointed out. “So he wouldn't have had to deal with it.”

Her tapping stopped. “You're right, Mike. Bill would have kicked Pick off the ranch so fast his head would've spun right off his neck. I've really opened us up to something, haven't I?”

“Yes you have,” I answered. “But I don't guess there's any reason to beat yourself up over it.”

She didn't take my comment well. “You should have spoke up, Mike. Instead, you acted like a little school boy with all his talk about dinosaurs. I could have used better advice.”

“I don't recall you asking my advice.”

“Well, that's a given.”

I started to defend myself, but my better angels said to let it go. “I'll try to do better.”

This made her smile, which, of course, I was glad to see. “I swear, Mike, you tell me to go piss down my leg with fewer words than any man I've ever known.” She got up. “Well, you need your sleep and so do I.”

“Sure you won't stay for a drink?” I boldly asked. “I was so tired when I got back, I forgot to have one.”

She hesitated, looked me in the eye, then said, “It's best to keep my head clear around you, I think.”

I wondered what the hell
that
meant but before I could ask, the screen door was slapping behind her and she was gone into the night. I sat there for a little while, then went back to bed, there to dream not of Jeanette but of Blackie Butte. I saw Pick, Laura, and Tanya climbing up and down it, carrying big bones in their arms. They were giving them to somebody but I couldn't see who it was. I also heard the low, guttural engine noises that had interrupted my sleep out there. That woke me up and I listened carefully but heard nothing but the hum of my window air conditioner, which soon lulled me back to sleep. I had no more dreams, at least none that I recall.

Ray and I were greeted with enthusiasm by Pick, his ladies, and Amelia as we rolled into camp early the next morning. Laura and Tanya, especially, were like kids on Christmas morning going through all the equipment we'd brought from Miles City and Billings. “These are great jackhammers!” Laura cried, practically swooning at the sight of the heavy, dirty things. “And look at these compressors. Woo-hoo!”

How many women in the world get excited about heavy construction equipment? If they only knew, it is nearly a direct path to a man's heart.

Tanya loved the water tank. “Where did you find this, Mike?” she bubbled. “I have never seen such a lovely tank before!”

“Got something else for you, too, darling,” I said in my most manly tone. “Got your name on it. Look in the back of Bob. That would be the truck.”

She looked, saw the cardboard box with her name on it, climbed in, opened it, and yelped in almost orgasmic ecstasy. “Vodka! Oh, Grey Goose! A dozen bottles!”

“There's tonic in that other box,” I said, hoping to hear another orgasmic cry.

Instead, Tanya jumped down from Bob and gave me a big hug and a kiss on the lips. My knees went a bit wobbly. Before I could respond, Laura came running over. “Tanya, they bought brand new chisels! Hardened steel! Come see!” and together these two dream gals went scampering off to look at tools.

Ray swung by. “I saw you got a kiss,” he said, a bit sour.

“How about you?”

“Amelia said she'd been thinking and had decided she was too young to get engaged. What does that mean? I never asked her to get married! I just wanted to, you know, make out and stuff.”

“How does she feel about that? Making out and stuff, that is.”

“Who knows?” he replied. “Best I ever got was a little kiss.”

“Well, Ray, I guess a little kiss is sometimes all you need.”

“Boy, it's been a long time since you were a teenager,” Ray pointed out and went on his way.

Pick came over. “Mike, how long do you think it will take to hook up those jackhammers?”

I looked over to where Laura, Tanya, and the two former Green Planet brothers were already hooking the jackhammers up to the compressors. “About as long as it takes to carry them up to the top of the hill,” I said. “I take it you've agreed to take on Brian and Philip.”

“Sure,” he said. “Willing backs who work for nothing but food? Every paleontologist's dream.”

The chatter of a compressor began and Laura attacked a boulder at the bottom of the butte with the thirty-pound jackhammer. She knew what she was doing and, within a minute, the sandstone rock gave it up and fell apart. Laura handed the jackhammer over to Tanya and raised her hands in victory. Pick looked at the spectacle and smiled. Tanya assaulted another boulder.

After everyone took a turn on the jackhammer to get the feel of it—everyone but Pick who suddenly had a need to work on his journal—Laura called for a break and detailed her plan to move the equipment where it needed to go and how we were going to take down the butte. When she finished, I had to point something out. “It's July one,” I said. “The Independence Day celebration in Jericho is a big deal. Ray and I are on tap to do some work on it and Jeanette's one of the prime organizers. I suggest we go in on the evening of the third and enjoy the day. Jeanette always has a few rooms reserved in Tellman's Motel for the occasion.”

Laura gave that some thought. “A break would be good,” she said. “And I look forward to a shower.”

“I do as well,” Tanya said, giving me a suggestive glance. My heart sped up.

“OK. We'll go in on the evening of the third to enjoy the fourth,” Laura said. “But the next couple of days, I want to see some work done.”

This was received with good cheer. We were all serious dinosaur diggers, after all. While Ray and I took Bob and the tractor back to the ranch and returned on our four-wheelers, Laura directed the move of equipment. Then, she realized she'd forgotten something. The BLM fence, which ran along the bottom of Blackie's north side rose like a thin net to catch all the debris we were about to send down on top of it. “We should move that fence, Mike,” she told me.

I considered it, then agreed but explained it would mean another delay because to move it meant lengthening it and we didn't have either extra wire or posts.

“Then just take it down,” Laura said. “We can put it back later.”

Since none of our cows were out this way, I agreed and went after Ray and Amelia who knew what to do. Within an hour, we had the fence down and it wasn't more than a minute later that Laura had the rocks tumbling off the butte.

The rest of the day was spent with the hot and dusty task of taking down what was essentially a mountain. Even Pick climbed up and helped pry loose a couple of huge slabs of sandstone, which, when they broke loose, slid and rolled with ponderous majesty down the back side, crashing at the bottom with a jolt that I could feel even standing on top. That night, the v&t was needed just to dull the ache in my bones and I didn't last long around the new fire pit. I crept to my tent and was out cold almost instantly.

Sometime in the night, I woke, hearing the same low engine noises I'd heard at the Trike site. It didn't sound nearby so I let it go. The next morning, Tanya came to me while I was eating my breakfast of cold milk and cereal. “Mike, I think I heard those sounds you keep talking about. What could be making them?”

“I have no idea,” I confessed.

“I think it came from the direction of the lake.”

“Yep. That's what it sounded like to me, too.”

“Will we be near the lake on the fourth of July?”

“There's a dance at the marina that night. Fireworks, too.”

She smiled. “I would enjoy a dance.”

My heart did its little flutter. “Then I'll see you there.”

The day boiled on and Blackie got a little shorter. Jeanette showed up driving Bob, which was filled with groceries. She watched the activity for a while, then called me down to talk. “I hate what you're doing to my butte,” she said.

“It's just dirt, Jeanette. And we don't come out here that much to look at it. Nobody does. Not even that many cows.”

She sighed. “You know what I mean, Mike. You, of all people, know.”

“It's too late to change it now,” I said. “Let's just go with it.”

She nodded but actually bit her lip, the first time I'd ever seen her do that. I knew what she was thinking. Bill Coulter would have never allowed a major landmark on the Square C to be destroyed.

Pick came over and he and Jeanette walked off together. I climbed back up on the butte and took my turn on the jackhammers. When I looked back, I saw Pick helping Jeanette carry the groceries from Bob into the cook tent. When they were finished, Jeanette climbed up to our ersatz quarry, got a shovel, and started using it with gritty determination. The young people—meaning Ray, Amelia, and the Marsh brothers—stopped briefly and just watched her go. Blackie Butte, now that Jeanette Coulter was there with her mind made up to take off its top, stood no chance.

Then Ted Brescoe showed up in his official white BLM pickup. “What the hell are you doing?” he screamed as soon as he climbed out. “Stop this. Stop this now!”

From the passenger seat stepped Edith, out here for no apparent reason. I surely couldn't believe it was because she liked being with her husband.

“Stop nothing,” Jeanette said to the others and climbed down to confront Ted. I followed just in case I got orders from the queen of the prairie to beat up the representative of the Big Lousy Monster.

Ted was in a state that bordered nearly on out of control. He was stomping around, screaming obscenities. When he saw the fence was down, I thought he was going to blow an artery. He rushed over to Jeanette and shook his finger in her face. “You will be fined! You will be fined!” he screamed.

“You shut up, Ted Brescoe,” Jeanette replied. “This is my land and my lease. The Coulters have taken good care of this property for a hundred years. What we are doing here is my business and not yours. You calm down or I'll have Mike run you off. Hell, I'll do it myself.”

Ted's finger folded and he brought it down but he was still clearly enraged, his eyes bugged, his jaw clenched, the sinews in his neck standing out. “That lease may not be yours much longer,” he threatened. “And I'll tell you something else. I'm going to get a surveyor out here to check the BLM line. I've always suspected all of Blackie Butte is on federal land.”

“Only you, Ted, would say something so stupid,” Jeanette retorted.

“We'll see,” he seethed.

“Ted,” Edith said, “why are you so worked up? It's just an old hill. There's ten thousand of them out here.”

Ted turned on her. “Shut up, Edith. I gave these idiots a permit to look for bones, not dig them up. And they sure didn't have permission to knock down that fence. Anyway, this has nothing to do with local politics. This is a federal matter.”

I took this as an interesting comment, primarily because it was from a husband to a wife but it sounded like a dustup between two bureaucrats, one a lowly local, the other a lordly federalista.

Edith retorted in kind. “It is my responsibility to see my constituents represented.”

“Jeanette doesn't live in Jericho,” Ted pointed out. “This falls under my purview.”

At least, their little turf struggle had calmed Ted down. “Ted, why don't you do a bullet chart and present it to us at our next meeting?” I asked.

Ted glanced at me, his expression filled with contempt. I guess he didn't like my idea. He turned back to Jeanette. “Until the BLM completes its survey, I am hereby ordering you to cease and desist. If you don't, I will find a federal judge to issue a ruling to make you stop. And I'm not kidding about that fine. You destroyed federal property when you knocked down my fence.”

“I'll build you a better fence, Ted,” Jeanette said. “There's no reason for any of this.”

Ted drew himself up. “I have a duty here to oversee anything that occurs on the BLM and, by God, that's what I'm going to do. Cease and desist, Jeanette, cease and desist.”

“Ted?”

“What?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

It was rare when Jeanette used the F-word, but I guess Ted Brescoe was able to bring out the worst in anybody.

“We'll see about that,” Ted said, and stomped to his truck.

“I'll talk to him, Jeanette,” Edith said, giving me a cool glance. I just shrugged. She rolled her eyes and followed her dear husband.

Laura, Tanya, and Pick had gathered nearby to hear all this. Jeanette turned to them. “It's all right. Everything is all right. Go back to work.”

We went back to work but when we took breaks, most of the talk was about the BLM agent. The consensus was he was an idiot, which, of course he was, but he was also a powerful one, at least on federal property. I hoped Edith would talk some sense in him. I also hoped he wasn't right about the boundary lines of the BLM.