Under Cold Stone A Constable Molly Smith Mystery (28 page)

Every one of the men looked down.

Adam showed Norman the trap. The dog sniffed at it, and then the surrounding ground. Adam relaxed the leash, letting the dog have his head. They watched as Norman cast about, searching for a scent. He set off back the way they’d come, head down, ears up. One of the uniformed Mounties went with them, to watch Adam’s back while his attention was focused on his dog.

“What happened?” Winters asked the workers. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Morris Jennings. This here’s Danny. We got here at seven-thirty, regular time, ready to start work. Gotta clear some of those woods. We went into the office, put on the coffee, like always, checked the day’s orders. Came out fifteen or so minutes later, heading for the dozers.”

“I arrived,” Fernhaugh said, “as Morris and Donny were coming out of the office. A minute later, I heard them shouting and ran to see what was happening.”

Morris pointed. “That’s right where I woulda put my foot, to climb into the cab. If I hadn’t happened to look down, I woulda.”

“Did you touch anything?”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding? We ran back inside, told Darren to call the cops.”

Winters studied the ground. The trap lay out in the open. No attempt had been made to bury it or to cover it with earth or leaves and twigs. It was intended as a threat, nothing more.

“Did you check the other bulldozer?”

“Yeah,” Donnie said. “Nothing. We looked around the yard but didn’t find anything more.”

“This is an outrage,” Fernhaugh said. “Intimidation, pure and simple. Intended to stop work. We’re going to have to search the entire property before I can let anyone step foot onto the ground. What about tomorrow? And the day after that? Do I have to search everything, every day? We’ll never get any work done. We’re behind schedule as it is.”

Which, Winters reflected, was precisely the point.

“We’re taking this very seriously, sir,” Gavin said. “We’ll find out who’s responsible.”

“You had better,” Fernhaugh muttered. “You two get to work. At least you’ll be safe in your machines.” His face paled. “You don’t think…”

“No,” Winters said. “I don’t think you’re in any more danger. This was clearly intended as a warning, nothing more.”

“Warning! Couldna taken off my fuckin’ foot,” Morris said. Donnie nodded. “What’s next? A snake in the cab?”

“I want protection,” Fernhaugh said. “For my men as well as my property.”

“I’ll see that you get it,” Gavin said.

“Obviously,” Fernhaugh said, “this private bunch I
thought
were guarding my property aren’t exactly up to the task.”

“Look, I told you,” the security guard said, “if they came in through the woods, didn’t make a noise, kept out of sight, what was I supposed to do about it? I’m just one guy.”

“If I get one of those hippie bastards alone in a dark alley,” Morris said. “He’s the one who’ll need protection.”

“Threats,” Winters said, “are not helping.”

The men muttered some more. But eventually, with much theatrical checking of every place they put their feet or hands, they got into their machines. They lumbered down the path, heading into the woods.

“I’ll join you in a couple of minutes, Mr. Fernhaugh,” Ron Gavin said once the bulldozers were out of sight.

Fernhaugh grunted and went back to his office.

Gavin rummaged in his forensics kit and came out with a bag. He pulled on his gloves, picked up the trap and dropped it into the bag. The look on his face would curdle milk. “Disgusting thing.” He wrote the date and location onto the bag. “You think this was a deliberate warning to the Grizzly Resort, John?”

“Can’t see that it would have been anything else. No trapper’s going to be working around here. Most of the animals are long gone. That trap’s illegal anyway. If it had gone off, it wouldn’t have done much damage to a man in construction boots, but I suspect that’s beside the point. Things are escalating and that worries me.”

Gavin grunted. His radio crackled. “Go ahead, Adam.”

“Norman picked up a scent right away. It goes into the woods, and it’s pretty darn muddy in here. Footprints are easy to see. Looks like two sets to me, both of them coming in, then going out. I remember an old logging road about a kilometer or so further east. They seem to be headed there. Probably where they left their car to avoid the guard at the main entrance.”

Gavin hefted his pack. “Hold up and wait for me. I’ll be right there.”

He turned to Winters. “It rained late yesterday afternoon, so footprints and tire treads should be clear. I’d like to take the casts now, in case it rains again. Do you want to talk to Fernhaugh, John, see if he has anything more to say?”

“Happy to.”

Darren Fernhaugh sat behind his secretary’s desk. He was on the phone and waved Winters to a seat. When he hung up, he said, “I was letting Nancy know what’s going on. So she wouldn’t be frightened by all the police activity.”

“Good idea.”

Darren Fernhaugh could shed no light on who might have been responsible for laying the trap. He simply shook his head. “Whoever it is, though, they don’t know how damaging this is. This sort of thing is going to slow us down, all right. If we have to check equipment before we use it. Watch where we’re going. Morris is a drama queen. Any sort of nick or cut and he’ll be yelling for compensation and sick time. We’re supposed to start pouring concrete next week, and I need the foundations cleared for the first lot of cottages.” He rubbed his head. “My investors are already getting antsy. They keep wondering why we’re not working faster. I don’t suppose you can keep this under your hat, Sergeant?”

“Afraid not. But even if we could, I expect your bulldozer operators will be spreading the story far and wide.”

“In every bar in the district.” Fernhaugh groaned. “Every recitation more lurid than the last.”

“I don’t have to tell you to stay alert.”

“No.”

Winters walked through the woods to his car. The scowling security guard was back at the gate, an RCMP car parked prominently on the road. Tree huggers, Fernhaugh and his men had said. They seemed to think that was a good enough description of the vandals.

But John Winters wasn’t so sure. What sort of environmentalists would lay an illegal leghold trap? They would have wanted to be in and out under cover of darkness. The trap would have had to have been set at least an hour or two earlier. They might not have minded if a man in a work boot had stepped into it, but would they have taken a chance on an animal passing by? A coyote or a lynx, a deer, or an elk? Even a curious dog, out for its morning walk.

Highly unlikely.

Chapter Fifty

BOW VALLEY GRILL. BANFF SPRINGS HOTEL. BANFF, ALBERTA. TUESDAY MORNING.

“When I came in last night,” Paul Keller said, apropos of nothing, “a couple of guys were asking the concierge about the best places to find fish.”

“When all this is over,” Lucky said, “we’ll come back. And you can go fishing.”

“When it’s all over.”

“It’s time for me to go home,” Smith said. “You should come with me, Mom.”

“No.”

“Molly’s right, Lucky,” Keller said. “We’re not accomplishing anything here.” He popped a slice of bacon into his mouth.

“Are you leaving?” Lucky asked him.

“Not yet.”

“Then neither am I.”

Keller touched Lucky’s hand. They didn’t smile, but their eyes exchanged a message.

Smith gulped down a mouthful of tea. Too hot. “Mom…”

“I’ll stay with Paul. For a while, anyway.”

No point in arguing. No one could argue with Lucky anyway, not once she’d made up her mind. As they’d ordered breakfast, Smith had told Keller about the encounter with Sergeant Blechta the previous evening. He’d sighed and said he wasn’t surprised.

Matt had now been missing for more than forty-eight hours. Someone had reported seeing him taking a hiking path out of town before first light on Sunday morning . A police dog had been called out, but too much time, and too many people, had passed and the dog and his handler admitted defeat.

Otherwise, not a peep.

Smith could do nothing more here.

They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence.

“I’ll be off then, Mom.”

The women stood and hugged. “You take care,” Smith mumbled into her mom’s hair.

“Tell them at the front desk that I’ll take care of the bill.”

“Will do.” She released her mother. “Sylvester will be glad to be going home.”

“Drive carefully,” Keller said.

It didn’t take long to toss her few belongings into her backpack. She was checking the room for any forgotten items when her cell phone rang.

A bust of words, tumbling all over themselves. Tracey.

“Hey, slow down,” Smith said. “I can’t understand you.”

“He called. Matt called me.”

“That’s great. Where is he?”

Tracey hesitated. “I can’t say. But he wants to meet me, this morning. He says he’s leaving Alberta. He wants…he wants me to come with him! I wanted to let you know, that’s all. He told me not to tell anyone, but I promised you I would.”

“Tracey, wait. Matt can’t leave. He’s suspected of murder.”

“He didn’t do it!”

“I know that.” Smith didn’t know any such thing. The police officer in her figured Matt had done it. Regardless, he had to stop running. Even if he headed off into the wilderness, he’d be found soon enough. This wasn’t the wild west. No one could disappear for long in the modern world. “The longer he stays away, the guiltier he looks. You have to make him understand that.”

Tracey hesitated.

“Tell me where he is, and I’ll go and get him.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. Matt needs to do the right thing. That’s the best way for you to help him.”

“I can’t tell you. I mean you won’t be able to find it.” Tracey hesitated. ”I suppose it would be okay if you came with me.”

Not what Smith had in mind. She intended to go for Matt, all right. With backup. “Where is he?”

“A place we know. A nice place. We had a picnic there a couple of times. I’m not much of a wilderness girl, but Matt wanted me to be. He took me hiking and I tried to like it.” Her voice trailed off. “I’m not even sure I can find it again. Not without Matt. He said he’d put a signal out for me.”

That did not sound promising. But it was all Smith had. “Where are you?”

“It’s my day off at the restaurant. I’m at home. At Matt’s apartment, I mean.”

“I can be there in ten minutes.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you? Not your mom. Not Matt’s dad. Particularly not the police. I mean it. Promise me you’ll come alone, or I won’t take you.”

“Okay, Tracey. We’ll play it your way.”

Smith scrambled in her backpack, tossing aside her clothes and toiletries. She put her running shoes on and stuffed a heavy sweater into the pack. She wasn’t equipped to venture into the backcountry, but Matt couldn’t be too far if he was at a place he’d taken Tracey. She kept a flashlight in the car and emergency supplies, as well as a small knife that fastened onto her belt. It would have to do.

Chapter Fifty-one

GLOBAL CAR RENTAL. BANFF, ALBERTA. TUESDAY MORNING.

Tom Dunning also received a long-awaited phone call.

Someone was coming to get the Corolla.

Tom didn’t know what was so special about that car, and he figured he was better off not knowing. Simpson had told him to keep it in the lot, untouched. He told Jody and Tracey it needed some new parts before it could be rented out again. They didn’t question him. Vehicle maintenance was Tom’s job.

As far as Tom was concerned, he wanted to be rid of the thing. Since Barry’s death the cops were showing far too much interest in people who’d known him.

The man who finally came for the Corolla was a tough-looking guy with short black hair and a thick beard. He didn’t smile as he showed Jody his Saskatchewan driver’s license and a credit card, and filled out the paperwork. Jody asked him if he’d like a free map of the national park and he said yes. She handed him the keys, her fake smile firmly in place. “Enjoy your visit.” The car was due to be returned in three days.

Tom took him outside to check over the vehicle.

“Where you heading?” Tom asked.

“B.C.”

“Been there before?”

The guy looked at him through dark sunglasses. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to ask so many questions?”

Tom shrugged. “Just being friendly.”