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Authors: Stacey Coverstone

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BOOK: Line Dancing Can Be Murder
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Three hours later, Keith gathered the group around the bus. “Since the day is late, we’ll see more of the park tomorrow, including the Lower waterfalls and the famous Old Faithful geyser and Inn. Right now, we’ll head over to Grant Village Lodge, our hotel for the night. Grant Village is popular with tourists because the lodge is the only accommodations inside the park.”

On our way there, the bus erupted with excitement when Wayne stopped alongside the road and pointed out a herd of buffalo in the distance. They were grazing beside a creek. It felt like we’d traveled back in history to a time when buffalo roamed the prairies by the thousands. He told us bison can sprint at thirty miles per hour, and many visitors have gotten too close and been gored.

Crystal stood up and snapped pictures through the window. “I’m so glad we got to see a real herd! I was afraid the only one we’d encounter was the stuffed buffalo in front of that shop in Jackson.”

She was still peering through the glass as she lowered her weight into her seat when Keith tossed a Whoopee cushion onto it. Everyone laughed, of course, when the sound exploded under her fanny.

“Very funny, Keith.” She wagged her finger at him like he was a bad boy. When he reached out for the toy, she shook her head and tucked it into her shoulder bag. “This is mine now. You like jokes, huh? When you least expect it, I’ll get you back.”

That was the first prank he pulled on Crystal, but it wouldn’t be the last.

 

~ * ~

 

The lodge was actually a group of buildings into which we were all divided. The buildings themselves and the dormitory-style rooms inside were old and outdated. Keith had warned us ahead of time there would be no televisions, radios, or mini fridges in the rooms, as well as no cell phone service or internet availability. Atmosphere and location inside the park, however, made the lack of conveniences worth it—so he said.

When Donna and I dragged our luggage from the bus to our building, an elk was on the footpath eating grass!

“Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” I said, making a large arc around the elk and hoping he wouldn’t attack.

“He must be used to people,” Donna said, strolling past the animal without a care.

Our room with its two twin beds was small, clean and functional, even if it lacked charm and character. Because of the isolated area, I was happy for hot water to shower with and a restaurant beside the lake that served a decent meal.

Later, after we’d returned from dinner, Donna and I organized our clothes in our suitcases, painted our nails, and wrote in our journals. There were no activities planned for the tour group together and nothing to do in Grant Village. There wasn’t even a pool table in the lobby of the building. At dinner, Jackie, Kim, Crystal and Annette had said they were going to stay in their rooms for the evening and go to bed early.

Restless, I paced our room. Donna was scooted up against her headboard sketching a picture of a buffalo on her sketchpad. I peeked at the drawing and gave her a thumbs-up.

“You’re such a good artist. Why haven’t you ever sold your work?”

Her hand stilled, and she looked at me as if I’d grown two heads. “Are you crazy? No one would want to buy my sketches.”

I plopped on the end of her bed. “Of course people would! You’re talented. I wish you wouldn’t sell yourself short. Didn’t you win some art awards and contests when we were in high school?”

“Yeah, but that was a long time ago. I just draw for fun these days.”

An idea struck me. “Wouldn’t it be neat if you could market your drawings to companies that sell stuff like calendars, magnets, greeting cards, totes, and tee shirts? It could be the start of a brand new career, or a way for you to earn extra money. You’ve said you need to supplement your income. Annette’s husband is a businessman. Maybe he could give you some tips on how to break into that kind of field.”

Donna’s head snapped up. “Get real, Teresa. It’s a little late for a new career. Besides, I already have a plan for supplementing my income, thanks to Keith.”

Finally! It was about time she explained. “Keith? Is that what you’ve been talking to him about?”

She hid a smile. “Forget I said anything. I’ll tell you more by the end of the week when I have further details. Suffice it to say, he’s helping me to improve my financial life.”

“How?” I demanded. “He’s a tour guide. What does he know about finances?”

“Be patient and I’ll tell you all about it when the time is right.” She continued drawing. “He’s a lot more savvy that you might imagine.”

My gaze narrowed. “You haven’t fallen in love with Keith and done something asinine, have you?”

Her laughter filled the small room. “No, I’m not in love with Keith. And I don’t see how improving one’s lot in life can be asinine. Now go read your Kindle and let me finish this sketch before the natural light is gone, will you?”

Frustrated with Donna’s secrecy, I stretched out on my bed and turned on my Kindle. I’d downloaded several books before coming on the trip, but I could no more focus on reading than I could do a headstand. The conversation with her made my head spin wondering what kind of cahoots she was in with Keith. I also worried about what Kim was hiding, and I didn’t understand Jackie and Annette’s sudden change in behavior.

“I need some fresh air. I’m going for a walk to the lake,” I said, stuffing my Kindle into its case and grabbing my Jackson Hole sweatshirt from my suitcase.

“Okay, but don’t stay out long. It’ll be dark soon, and there might be bears around. We’re in the wilderness, you know. Remember the elk on the sidewalk?”

“I’ll be careful and take a flashlight and Mace with me.” I pulled the sweatshirt over my head and looped my mini flashlight around my wrist. Then I removed the bottle of Mace I carried in my purse at all times and stuck it in my jeans pocket.

“Mace won’t take down a grizzly,” Donna noted, as I closed the door behind me.

I had so much pent-up energy and adrenaline flowing through me, I figured I could take down a bear with my bare hands if need be. When I got to the lake, the sun was about to set and the temperature fell quickly. Glad to be wearing the sweatshirt and jeans, I walked along the shore, surprised there was no one else out and about.

The sun melting into the horizon was beautiful, but the lonesome squawks of birds and the soft splash of the water upon the beach reminded me of the moment in a horror movie when someone was about to be snuck up on and slashed to death. Spooked, I thought maybe it hadn’t been a good idea for me to take a walk alone.

When I heard footsteps behind me, my heart pounded with an insane rhythm, and a scream caught silently in my throat. I jammed my hand into my pocket and withdrew the Mace. The only thing worse than being clawed to death by a bear was to be physically assaulted. What an idiot I was to go out there alone!

Whirling, I raised the Mace to eye level and put my finger on the trigger, ready to blind my pursuer and run.

“Stop! Don’t shoot!” the man shouted, raising his arms in surrender. “I’m unarmed.”

I squinted, recognizing the voice. “Keith? Is that you?”

His arms swung to his sides and he stepped closer. “I’m sorry to have scared you, Teresa. I should have called out your name instead of sneaking up on you like that.”

With a trembling hand, I lowered the Mace. “Yeah, you should have. You almost got a face full of chemicals.” I snorted out short breaths in an attempt to settle my nerves. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

“Just getting a little exercise while clearing my head. It’s a quiet spot in which to think.” The cords on his neck flexed and quivered. “What about you?”

“The same thing. There’s nothing to do around here.”

He grinned. “Most people enjoy the peace and solitude of being surrounded by nature.”

“I enjoy it, too. There’s a lot on my mind tonight, that’s all, and I could use a distraction.”

Our gazes latched, and a vague sense of unease snuck along my chest wall. His mouth opened as if he was about to offer a suggestion and then it snapped shut like a trap door. The breeze off the lake blew a few strands of his wispy hair into his eyes. I couldn’t imagine a better looking man as the blush of moonlight touched his face. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t onto him. I worried that Annette’s near confession earlier in the day had to do with him. For that reason alone, I was leery.

I was about to ask him straight out if he’d hurt her in some way when he seemed to read my mind and diverted the subject. “I’ll be glad to walk you to your building. It’s not a good idea to be out here alone, especially at night. There are a lot of wild creatures on the prowl.”

I’ll bet
,” I thought.
Are you one of them?
Accepting his offer, because I couldn’t come up with an excuse not to, we walked along the shoreline and back to the building in silence. “Thanks,” I said outside the main door. “See you in the morning.”

“Good night, Teresa.” He tipped his head as any gentleman would and disappeared into the dark before I could blurt out the questions that lingered on the tip of my tongue. I stood in the dark wondering why he hadn’t flirted or tried to hit on me. I wasn’t sure whether I should be relieved or insulted.

Maybe I
did
give off a vibe, as Kim had suggested. If that were the case, I had no problem with that. An icy feeling slid up my arms. Keith was trouble with a capital T, and it wouldn’t be long before the truth came out. Of that I was sure.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Fun and Games?

 

Our group sat on benches in the viewing area near Old Faithful waiting for it to erupt. So far it had been thirty minutes with no sign of a sputter. Apparently, it erupted every ninety-two minutes without fail, and Keith and Wayne had timed our visit so that we’d experience the big show in about five more minutes.

“Unfortunately, most of my recent boyfriends have taken the same amount of time to go off,” Doris joked, sending all of us into fits of laughter.

A few minutes later, Crystal expelled a blood-curdling scream a few seats down from me. She shot up from the bench and ran into the grass. I thought a swarm of bees had attacked. Upon closer inspection, I discovered Keith had thrown a rubber snake into her lap.

The seniors chuckled and thought his joking around was funny. Crystal didn’t seem to mind either, once she realized the snake was a fake. She winged it back at him and would have chucked him in the head if he hadn’t ducked.

“You’re really asking for it today,” she warned in a teasing voice.

“Asking for what?” he joked back.

“Keep messing with me and you’ll find out.”

The pranks that had started yesterday continued in full swing today. Earlier that morning, after enjoying Artist Point (the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone) and posing for photos in front of the incredible Lower Falls, Keith asked Crystal if she’d buy him a beer that night if he hit the sign across the road with a rock on the first try. “Sure,” she said. Then he ran across the road and struck the sign with the rock.

“You owe me a beer tonight. You can pay up at the bowling alley in Billings,” he said after he’d jogged back.

“You’re a cheater.” She playfully smacked his arm. He bumped hips with her, causing her to yelp and lose her balance. Fortunately, he caught her in his arms before she fell. She laughed, clearing enjoying the attention. But when her gaze clouded with a mixture of admiration and lust, a chill like the brush of cobwebs crept up my arms.

“There she blows,” Wayne hollered. I jerked my gaze away from Crystal and Keith and began snapping the requisite photos. A cloud of steam exploded from the most recognizable geyser in the world, eliciting gasps all around me. It took all of fifteen seconds for the billowing column to reach a height of 130 feet, before rapidly lowering after about twenty seconds. The big production ended with a few puffs of steam before disappearing back into the earth.

“That was a little disappointing,” I said to Winnie and Barb, who sat on either side of me. “Guess I was expecting more.”

“Me, too. To think I’ve been waiting all my life to see Old Faithful, and it was over in twenty seconds.” Winnie shook her head, looking disgusted.

“Let’s go to the Inn and do some retail shopping,” Barb suggested, looping her arm through Winnie’s. “Buying crap I don’t need always makes me feel better after a disappointment.”

I walked with them to the Old Faithful Inn and bought myself a Yellowstone tee shirt, a coffee mug, another postcard for my scrapbook, and a second card for Phil. Turned out, spending money made me feel better, too.

 

~ * ~

 

Back on the bus, we watched a video on Custer’s Last Stand and then played a trivia game on our way to the historic cattle town of Billings, Montana. The game was a quiz on the Tetons, and one of the married men tied for first place with Crystal.

“I’ve written down a number,” Keith said. “Pick a number between one and one hundred. Whomever is closest wins this bar of soap shaped like a Yellowstone bear cub.” He held up the green soap so everyone could see how cute it was. “Crystal, you go first.”

“Oh, I want that soap!” she squealed. “My lucky number is four. I hope it’s four. I hope it’s four.”

“Tom?”

“My lucky number is twenty-seven.”

Keith withdrew the slip of paper from behind his back but didn’t show us what he’d written on it. “The number is ten. Crystal, you win!” I wondered if he’d let her win.

She rocketed up from her seat and reached between my head and Kim’s to grab for the soap. “Thank you, Keith. I’ve never won anything before.”

“You’re welcome, Crystal,” he winked. He stared at her a minute. “Hey, I have an idea. I’m supposed to tell the group some things about Deadwood, South Dakota now, but my throat is a little scratchy. Do you want to take over my job for a while?”

“Me?” Her eyes bulged.

He grinned brightly and motioned her up front. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I have a feeling you’re a natural.”

 “Okay,” she giggled.

Keith slid onto the seat directly behind Wayne and patted the spot next to him. “Sit next to me, Crystal.” When she did, he handed her a big three-ring binder. “Just read this stuff into the microphone. If you feel creative, you can throw in a few jokes.”

BOOK: Line Dancing Can Be Murder
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