Back of Beyond (27 page)

He hated when she mocked him.

Which didn’t stop her. She said, “
Never
encourage alcohol consumption. We may want a nightcap of our own in the tent before we turn in, Dakota, but
never
drink in front of the clients or encourage them to do so.

“
Never
antagonize a paying guest and promote rancor among the group, Dakota,” she said. “Be the facilitator to smooth out any disagreements. Be on everyone’s side, or lead them to think you are. Be a benevolent dictator, but more the former than the latter. The whole experience gets poisoned if resentment is left to linger.”

He held up a hand to interrupt her but she was on a roll.

“
Never
fraternize with the guests until the last night, Dakota. Keep a professional distance so they respect you. You are the captain of the ship. Maintain a little mystery about you, so they’ll listen when you tell them something. Be professional at all times. Don’t become one of them, Dakota. Never let your guard down to the clients, Dakota,” she said, angry.

Then she leaned forward and backhanded him on his shoulder. Before he could react, she said, “So what do you do, you hand them a bottle! Then you sit with them and get them all stirred up about taking a new route. And what is this about water levels bein’ up so we can’t stay on the trail, Jed? Where in the
hell
did
that
come from?”

He sat back and glared at her although he was a little taken aback. “Keep your voice down,” he said through clenched teeth. “And where do you get off talking to me like that?”

“I’m using your own words,” she said.

He said, “This is my trip and my company. I’ve been keeping a close eye on the creeks we crossed and the level of the lake all day while you emptied your head and tugged your mules along. You would have seen the same thing I did if you’d been looking. And keep the hell in mind I don’t need to clear every decision with you. Keep the hell in mind this is my outfit and my risk and you’re the hired help.”

She reacted as if he’d slapped her. She said in her own voice, “Is that all I am to you?”

He was sorry he said it because he still needed her. But he didn’t take it back. He could tell she was trying not to tear up. No matter how tough she talked or acted, he thought, she was still just a damned girl.

He knew what her next move would be. Furiously, she started clawing at her sleeping bag, gathering it into a ball she could carry away.

This wasn’t their first fight, but he sensed the cold edge of finality creeping in unless he headed it off.

“You can still sleep here,” he said calmly.

“Bullshit,” she hissed, backing away on her hands and knees toward the door of the tent. “You can sleep alone. I don’t even want to breathe the same air as you tonight.”

It was the word
tonight
that made his shoulders relax and his stomach unclench.
Tonight
meant she didn’t consider the rift permanent.

He chuckled, then said, “Do whatever you have to do, darlin’. Just don’t let any of the guests see you.”

“Fuck you, Jed.”

He quickly sat up and reached over and cupped her chin in his palm, forcing her to stop and look at him. “Don’t escalate things out of proportion,” he said. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me a little bit.”

“Why should I?” she said, but he knew she was softening.

“Have I steered us wrong before?”

She paused, then said, “Not much up to now.”

He laughed, and felt the tension in her dissipate a little. He said, “Before you go, did you complete your job tonight?”

He knew her slavish obligation to her duties would further override her anger. She was like that.

Dakota jerked her face away from his hand, sat back on her haunches, and dug into her coat pocket. He figured she was as angry now at her own caving in as she was at him.

She threw a handful of cartridges in his lap. They landed heavily and he picked one up. He said, “Three-fifty-seven Magnum. Did you find any more? A box of shells?”

She shook her head.

“And you left the gun, of course,” he said. “So he might not even know you unloaded it.”

She just glared at him.

Wilson would be in a dilemma, now, Jed knew. If the man asked who took the bullets, he’d be admitting he brought a firearm on the trip. It had happened before, and in every case the guest never said a word afterward.

“You don’t have to leave,” Jed said. “It’s cold out there.”

But she’d committed herself and although there was a hint of doubt on her face, he knew she’d go.

“Come back in if you get cold,” he said.

She grunted the curse at him again as she backed out through the door trailing her sleeping bag and pad. Before disappearing into the night, though, she paused and looked in.

“I nearly forgot,” she said. “He also has a satellite phone.”

Jed’s eyes widened. “He does?”

Her mouth curled into a sneer. “And he’s got a file folder filled with aerial photos,” she said, “just like those ones you tried to hide from me when I came in.”

And she was gone.

Oh shit,
Jed thought.
This I didn’t expect
.

*   *   *

Gracie didn’t know what time
it was during the night when she snapped awake at the sound of blows or thumping footfalls outside the tent, or heard what she thought must be the grunting of a bear. Or a man or woman being wordlessly beaten.

23

Gracie was late to breakfast.
She’d barely slept until the last few hours as the tent walls fused with morning sun, and when she finally awoke she was sweating in her sleeping bag and Danielle was already gone.

She stood and stretched and yawned. Her face felt dirty and her hair was matted to the side and took furious brushing to set right. Danielle’s sleeping bag was crumpled and puffy on the pad. She vaguely remembered her sister cursing and grunting as she pulled her clothes on earlier.

Outside the tent, it was cold, still, clear, and breathtakingly beautiful. Bright white sun danced on the ripples of Yellowstone Lake and electrified the dew in the grass. A bald eagle cruised along the surface of the water, talons dropped, fishing. Far across the water was the smudge of an island in the lake. Boils of steam rose from vents and dissipated in the clear morning air. She smelled woodsmoke from the fire and heard subdued voices from the kitchen camp.

Her father stood on the path between her and the morning fire, hands in the pockets of his jacket, head down, feet set on opposite sides of the path as if blocking it.

She thought,
Ambush
.

As she walked out into the wet grass to go around him, he said, “Gracie, please. We have to talk.”

“Nothing to talk about.”

“I didn’t like how things developed last night,” he said. “I don’t like to see you go to bed angry with me.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes and passed him. He fell in behind her, speaking low so he wouldn’t draw the attention of the group already eating breakfast.

“I wanted you and Danielle to get to know her, get to like her,” he said. “I wanted you two to get comfortable with the idea of us together. I wanted you to
want
us to be together, for me to be happy and for us to be happy. I guess what I’m saying, Gracie, is I want your blessing.”

She stopped and turned around. He was right behind her. She said, “You use words girls use when they talk to each other. If I want to talk to girls I’ll talk to girls, not my dad. If you want to be with Rachel then tell me and be with her. I’m fourteen years old. I don’t give blessings. You’re the dad, be the dad,” she said. “And man up. That’s all I ask.”

She left him there with his mouth open but no sound coming out.

*   *   *

She expected chiding for being late
but no one said a thing and she realized the moment she stepped into the campfire ring that something was seriously wrong. All she received were brief and furtive glances. She felt as though she’d just blundered into the middle of an argument and stopped it cold.

Danielle sat with Justin on the same log they’d occupied the night before. Walt sat near them, as did Rachel Mina, who eyed her coolly. The Wall Streeters stood and held their plates aloft, as if they had an appointment to keep. The menu was scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast, and coffee. Although the food looked and smelled good, no one appeared to be really eating it. Donna Glode sat alone. She looked pale and sick. Strands of her hair fell into her face and the food on her plate was untouched. She stared at the fire although the flames were hard to see in the morning light.

Who was missing?

Jed, who was behind the kitchen station, said, “Hey, girl, come over here and get some breakfast. Get your dad to come eat, too.”

She looked around for Dakota but couldn’t locate her.

*   *   *

Dumbly, Gracie started to go
get her dad but he’d joined her. He looked under his brow at her, as if trying to transmit a message.

They got tin plates and eating utensils. She glanced over her shoulder at the others.

She said, “Where is Mr. Glode and that guy Wilson? Where’s Dakota?”

Her dad said, “I think that’s what everyone was discussing when you walked up.”

Jed gave her a scoop of eggs and three strips of bacon. He said, “I sent Dakota back on the trail to find a couple of strays.”

Gracie waited for a further explanation, but Jed ignored her. He was studying the others around the campfire with an almost scary intensity, she thought.

Gracie sat by Danielle and her sister reached over and patted her on the shoulder, as if touching base. It was an unusual and warm gesture, Gracie thought.

She listened in. Tristan Glode and K. W. Wilson hadn’t come to breakfast because they were gone. Their things had been cleared out of their tents and both of their horses were missing.

“No,” Jed said to answer a question from James Knox, “I can’t say it’s ever happened before. I’ve had the few rare unhappy customers, but I’ve never had any who up and went home. Especially on my horses.”

“I don’t see them sneaking away together,” Walt said, to snickers from Knox and Drey Russell.

Jed said, “I wish they would have talked to me about it. Being on your own in Yellowstone is dangerous.”

Gracie found herself watching Donna Glode, seeing what kind of impact the speculation was having on her. After all, her husband had left her. But she didn’t look distraught, Gracie thought. She looked
guilty.

This was confirmed when Danielle leaned over and whispered in her ear,
“She didn’t spend the night in her tent with him.”

Gracie nodded slightly to indicate she’d heard but didn’t give her sister away by looking at her or responding. Gracie noted how Donna glanced repeatedly at D’Amato, hoping, no doubt, he’d share a wink back. As far as she could tell, D’Amato pointedly didn’t turn his head toward Donna. And he seemed much more inhibited than he’d been so far. In fact, he looked ashamed, like a little boy. His two friends shot glances at him while they ate as if seeing him in a new light.

Walt said, “Do you think Dakota will find them and talk them into coming back?”

Jed said he hoped so. He looked stricken as well, Gracie thought. Maybe a little unsure of himself, for the first time. Like he had too much swirling around in his head. “I wish we knew when they left,” Jed said.

That’s when Gracie said, “I heard something last night. Am I the only one who did?”

She was. With Rachel observing her very carefully, her dad asked what she’d heard.

“It’s hard to describe,” she said. “I heard some feet thumping around outside and a kind of grunt, like someone got the wind knocked out of them. I didn’t recognize anyone or hear any voices, just the thumping and the grunt. I thought it might have been an animal in the camp.”

Her dad said, “Why didn’t you wake me up and tell me?”

Gracie looked over, her eyes dead. “I wasn’t sure whose tent you were in.”

“Meow,”
Danielle whispered.

Her dad turned red and looked quickly away. Gracie felt both good and ashamed at the same time. She expected a glare from Rachel, but the woman eyed her stoically. As if assessing her for later.

“What time did you hear it?” Jed asked, ignoring the others.

Gracie shrugged, and chewed on a piece of bacon.

“I mean,” Jed said, “was it right after you went to bed or was it closer to this morning?”

“A few hours after I went to bed,” she said. “After midnight, I’m sure. I didn’t look at my watch, but I’d guess two or three in the morning.”

Jed nodded to himself, as if fitting this new information into a narrative.

“So they could have five or so hours on us,” Knox said. “I don’t see the point in going after them, then. By the time we caught up to them they’d be at the parking lot.”

“Maybe,” Jed said, worried. “But they might not have gotten that far while it was dark.”

“I still don’t see the two of them together,” Walt said. “I’d guess they’re traveling separately in the same direction.”