Fear No Evil

Chapter 78

Raphael Durango slipped into the trees at the far end of the parking lot at the Holland Lake trailhead in time to see Lucy Bauer kiss her husband, who then climbed on his horse and whistled for his dog.

“C’mon, Pork Chop,” Bauer called. “Lead the way.”

The Australian shepherd bounded up the trail with Bauer following, a lead rope wrapped around his pommel and attached to the mule behind him, which was tugging the lead ropes of the five other mules strung out to the rear. John Sampson was on a great big horse behind the mules with Alex Cross and a wrangler riding at the back.

Durango adjusted the Miami Dolphins ballcap on his head, left the trees, and walked up to Lucy Bauer. He smiled as he gestured toward the disappearing pack train.

“We don’t see that kind of thing where I’m from,” he said. “Wild West, yes?”

Lucy smiled. “It’s wild up where they’re going, that’s for sure.”

“Where are they going?”

“Over Gordon Pass into the Bob Marshall Wilderness, about twenty-nine miles,” she said. “Tomorrow the clients will get on a raft and begin a long float on the South Fork of the Flathead River.”

“That’s sounds fantastic,” he said.

“It is. Would you like a brochure, Mr....”

“Martinez,” he said. “Pablo Martinez. And yes, please.”

Lucy got one from the cab of her husband’s pickup and gave it to him. “You need your own clothes, rain gear, sleeping bags, and clothes in dry bags. We provide the tents and the rafts and pack you in along with all the food you’ll need, and we help pull you out at the other end.”

“How long does it take to float the river?”

“This time of year it’s five days; with the ride in, it’s six,” she said. “Earlier in the season, when the water’s higher, you can do a faster float, four days, five in total.”

“But they go for six days,” he said. “Is there a map that shows the route?”

“A little one on the back cover,” she said, turning over the brochure. “First night, after the ride in, you’re up here on Grand Prairie at the confluence with Gordon Creek. Second night, you’re on the river, and most folks camp here and then here near Big Salmon Lake the third night. Unless of course you’re interested in a shorter trip, then you’d ride in and start from Big Salmon and float for just three days to the takeout.”

Durango did the math in his head and realized he had a chance to get ahead of Cross and Sampson. But did he need to? Couldn’t he just wait until they came off the river? Then again, Emmanuella had said to follow them wherever they went.

He said, “You do this? Pack people into this Big Salmon Lake?”

“We do, and we’re taking reservations for next summer.”

“I could not arrange this for me and my friends to go later today? Or tomorrow?”

“Today? Tomorrow?” she said. “No. That was our last trip in for summer rafting. And next week we get real busy with all the bow hunters going in after elk.”

“Money is no object,” Durango said. “And who knows when we will be back this way again.”

“Like I said—”

“Double the normal cost? Triple?”

Lucy thought about it. “I suppose I could get my nephew to take you in first thing tomorrow morning. We’d have to get more of our stock and the rafts and supplies trucked down from Bigfork. Triple our normal fee? You’re sure?”

“Positive,” he said, grinning. “For me and five friends.”

“Six of you?” she said. “Are you all staying at the lodge, Mr. Martinez?”

“No,” he said. “In a motor home at the campground. Part of our big summer of exploration and adventure.”

Lucy said, “I’d need the money wired to our accounts today.”

“Not a problem,” Durango said. “My friends will be so excited. It will be the trip of a lifetime.”