Above the Bridge Page 6

  She parked her car in front of the cabin, unloading a reading lamp and a large, oval, braided rug that she had found at the thrift store. Taking these inside, she made a second trip to her car for a small bag of groceries, which she took inside and put away. She set fresh fruit and banana nut muffins on the table, next to the coffee pot. This would cover breakfast the following morning.

  While it was still light, Paige brought in an armful of firewood and stacked it to the left of the fireplace, where it would be ready for use later on in the evening. She pulled a chair up to the small writing table and pulled out her laptop. It was time to start outlining her notes so far, transferring them from the small notepad where she had been jotting down brief tidbits over the last few days.

  Jackson Hole – Notes

  *Jackson Hole is named after fur trapper David E. Jackson, an early partner in the Rocky Mountain Fur Company. Originally named Jackson’s Hole, referring to the entire valley as a “hole,” it was later changed to simply Jackson Hole.

  Pre-1800 – Area was used by Native Americans for hunting and fishing. Tribes included Shoshone, Nez Perce, Crow, Blackfeet and others.

  1803 – Lewis and Clark expedition organized by Thomas Jefferson. Expedition reports helped inspire westward movement.

  1806-1808 – John Colter, a member of the Lewis and Clark group, traveled into Jackson Hole to scout for fur trading.

  1845 – Fur trapping declined as styles changed. Other means of earning income were developed, including the opening of early dude ranches, aimed at bringing visitors in to enjoy the area’s hiking, fishing, hunting and scenery.

  1862 – The Homestead Act allowed settlers to claim land for the price of making improvements. Many settlers arrived, both American and European. Early settlers included John Holland and John and Millie Carnes.

  1871-1878 – The Hayden Surveys officially named many landmarks, including Jenny Lake and Leigh Lake.

  1872 – Yellowstone, just north of Jackson Hole, became the world’s first national park.

  1888 - Population of the valley was 20 men, 2 women and 1 child.

  1889 – The first Mormons migrated to Jackson Hole.

  1890 – Wyoming became a state.

  1892 – Population of Jackson Hole had grown to 60 people.

  1892 – The first post office was at Marysville, which closed when the Jackson Post Office was opened in 1894.

  1894 – Town of Jackson named,

  1897 – The Jackson Hole Gun Club built The Clubhouse, which was the first community building.

  1897 – President Grover Cleveland set aside the Teton Forest Reserve.

  1899 – Deloney’s General Merchandise was the first store to open in Jackson.

  1900 – First Jackson Hole census. Approximately 600 people living in the area. Five post offices existed in the valley.

  1901 – Hotel belonging to Mary Anderson, which had been located at Antelope Gap, was moved to the Jackson town site, becoming the Jackson Hotel.

  1901 – Bill Simpson laid out plans for the town of Jackson, using typical grid format common for the time.

  1903-1905 – The first local school was located in The Clubhouse, and then moved to a log building.

  1906 – Roy Van Vleck and brother Frank arrived in town and started building a cabin, later opened as Jackson Mercantile.

  1907 – William Trester’s first photo of town. Tuttle and Lloyd’s Saloon already visible.

  1908 – President Theodore Roosevelt established the Teton National Forest.

  1909 – First edition of Jackson Hole Courier published. Population now 1500.

  1912 – U.S. Biological Survey Elk Refuge was established.

  1914 – Town of Jackson incorporated.

  1920 – Jackson elected the nation’s first all-female town council.

  1921 – Electricity powered Jackson for the first time.

  Pre-1924 – Town square was just a depression covered with sagebrush.

  1924 – Town started to improve the square by bringing in dirt to fill it.

  1931 – Town brought in plants and landscaping.

  1941 – Roads around the square were paved, cutting down dust problems.

  Paige hit the save button and shut the laptop down, waiting for the lights on it to click off before slowly closing the top. She’d learned quite a bit about the area since arriving in town, but it was clear that there was much more to learn. It wasn’t as easy as just talking to the locals, though that had been good advice from Susan. She needed to get beyond that, to get to the information that even the locals didn’t have, or didn’t know they had.

  She had always been one to trust her instincts. It had worked for her on other articles, such as the famous pirate Blackbeard’s hidden cove on Ocracoke Island, or the quiet life of the Kentucky Shakers near Harrodsburg, Kentucky. Sometimes it was worth following a hunch more than just facts. But usually the real payoff came in following both, in finding whatever way the two could weave together and create something not otherwise visible. It was one of the challenges of writing, combining research and imagination. She loved searching for the magic point where the two intersected.

  Standing up, she left the small desk area and moved to a front window. The sun was almost gone; only the faded images of twilight remained. She could hear the wind rustle through small patches of sagebrush outside. The screen door creaked a little as the breeze washed through the front porch. There was some sort of mystery in the air. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on and it wasn’t anything that could be found in any of the research she had done. But it was there, nonetheless. This was the part that intrigued her the most, the instinctual part. She had a hunch that this time it was the factor that would pay off. All she had to do was find the right combination, the right key. She had a feeling somehow that Jake would lead to this. She just had to find out how.

  Impulsively, she grabbed a jacket and stepped outside. If following instincts was what she had to do, then that was exactly what she would do. She eased her car out of the dusty driveway and turned out on the road, heading in the direction of Jake’s ranch.

  Other than a few bison grazing by the side of the road, dark shadows against the twilight sky, she found the road deserted. This wasn’t a surprise to her. She’d learned quickly after arriving in Jackson that the activity was mostly centered in town, much of it directly around the town square itself. It was only necessary to drive a few miles in any direction to reach some solitude.

  As she continued along, she spotted a faint light in the direction of Jake’s ranch. It twinkled in the semi-darkness like a star that had decided to appear on stage a little early. It grew slightly brighter as she approached, but there appeared to be only one window that glowed. She surmised it couldn’t be much more than one small light. Perhaps he wasn’t even home.

  To play it safe, Paige parked her car on the side of the road, finding an area that was slightly lower than the roadside fence, allowing her car to stay out of view of the ranch. She proceeded on foot another hundred yards or so, until she came to a point along the wood post and barbed wire fence that allowed her to see the old farmhouse clearly. With quiet steps, she approached the fence, bent down a little and peered through.

  A bald eagle soared across the sky, landing on the higher branches of a tree that was about halfway between Paige and the house. A lone coyote roamed the fields to the east, prancing about and lunging at small rodents and other animals who were about to become supper for the clever hunter.

  Paige eased her way along the fence until she arrived at a point where there was substantial brush on the other side, large enough clusters to hide behind. There, without giving a second thought to fact that she was trespassing, she slid carefully between two of the fence’s wires. She moved from one cluster of sagebrush to the next, crouching down to avoid being seen, until she found herself in a location where she had a good view of the house.

  Still only one window held light. The glow was brighter than it had ap
peared from down the road and it cast a small area of light out onto the front porch of the farmhouse. Inside the window she could see the outline of a man’s head from the side, with the face tilted slightly down. He appeared to be sitting in a chair of some sort, something with a high back. The light was set behind him, preventing any illumination of his features. Seeing the familiar red truck parked alongside the house, though, Paige knew it had to be Jake.

  She watched the silhouette of his head move back and forth, turning slightly from side to side. Perhaps he was just stretching his neck, she thought. Or he might be working with his hands, maybe whittling some wood or repairing an appliance. Or maybe he was reading, Paige suddenly thought, remembering all the books he’d been holding at the library earlier that day. It occurred to her at that moment that he might be researching the area, just as she was. Maybe he’d come to Jackson Hole for more than just the real estate investment of the old Manning Ranch. As Dan had mentioned, Jake had family ties to the area going back generations.

  She watched as he rose up, moved away from the window and then returned again, holding something in his hand. Another book, Paige guessed as he took a seat again in the chair. He must be looking for something in these books, she thought, watching him reach up to adjust the light. What was it? Was it hidden in the past history of the area? Was it something concerning Jackson as a town right now? Whatever it was, it had to be intriguing, as he remained in the same spot for some time.

  Paige moved forward, still staying a good twenty yards or so from the house. She inched behind another cluster of sagebrush, this one fairly thick and wide. The outdoor light continued to fade as night approached and the view inside Jake’s window grew even clearer. She remained crouched down, peering above the sage brush only slightly. It was at this time that she felt the presence of someone or something nearby.

  Turning slightly to her left, she suddenly gasped, seeing the coyote that had been running loose on the side of the property standing not ten feet away. Holding her breath, she watched him as he watched her in return, a quiet stand-off in silence. He took a step closer, which caused Paige to gasp again. She waved her hand quickly, as if to whoosh him away by suggestion, but this had no effect. The coyote continued to face her, staring at her with small, puzzled eyes. Finally Paige picked up a small rock from the ground and, in desperation, pitched it at the animal, though not hard enough to cause sizable injury. She hoped only to scare it away.

  It worked, but not in the way she might have hoped. The coyote jumped back at the sight of the incoming rock, brushing against some shrubbery and then bounding off in the direction of the house. Paige watched with a terrified, sinking feeling inside her as the coyote raced around the corner of the front porch, crashing into a stack of old crates sitting just to the side of the house and causing them to fall over. It then veered off into the fields and disappeared into the distance.

  Her heart pounding, Paige stayed motionless behind the large cluster of brush. There was no sound from the house, but she could see the light inside quickly extinguish itself. In the growing darkness, she felt frightened and vulnerable. After all, she didn’t belong there. She was clearly trespassing and she didn’t even have a decent excuse to give for doing so. She didn’t even have one to give herself.

  Paige remained frozen in place, hearing nothing but silence for a few minutes. Then, at the creak of the front door opening, she took advantage of the slight sound to flatten herself down on the ground, where she knew she couldn’t possibly be seen. She held her breath and waited for what seemed like forever, until she finally heard the door latch shut. Still, she remained on the ground, the smell of dust in her nose and the scratching of dry brush against her clothing.

  Eventually she eased herself up off the ground and, remaining crouched down, moved cautiously from sagebrush to sagebrush until she found her way back to the opening in the fence. She slipped back through it and quietly but quickly hurried down the road to her car. Her hand shook as she inserted the key into the ignition, but after a couple false, nervous tries, she got the engine running and pulled out onto the road, making a hasty retreat to her cabin. Here she parked the car along the far side of the building, rather than out in the general parking area, and then slipped inside the front door, Latching it shut, she sat motionless until dark had fallen completely.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jake paced back and forth across the town square, frustrated and angry. How stupid could he be, believing Frank the way he had? He was as much of a liar as his grandfather probably was, raising him on all those ridiculous stories of buried treasure. His grandfather had pulled the wool over his eyes and now so had Frank. He should have seen it before, but that only made him as stupid as the others.

  Pausing to lean against the monument in the center of the square, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, tapped it against his hand, pulled one out and pressed it between his lips. With his right hand he patted his chest and then his hips before finding a book of matches, somewhat torn and wrinkled from being carried around in his pocket, but useful nonetheless. He coughed a little on the first puff, just a reminder that he had quit smoking years ago. But extreme times called for extreme measures. He was just about at the end of his rope.

  Jake shifted his weight from one hip to the other, then leaned back casually again. It wouldn’t help to appear nervous, he thought. It was a good thing he calmed down and settled back, because when Frank came walking up, he wasn’t in any kind of a calm mood himself.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, calling me out here like some little servant?” Frank was fuming and he wasn’t about to hide it.

  “I need more information from you,” Jake stated calmly, looking Frank directly in the eye.

  “I already gave you everything I have,” Frank insisted, though the look in his eyes told Jake otherwise.

  “Listen up, now,” Jake said, the calm tone in his voice and manner starting to quickly slip away. “I didn’t spend all this time, all these years and all of this last particular year getting to this point, only to have it all ruined by you.” He pointed his finger at Frank for emphasis, then dropped it and looked around to make sure they weren’t attracting attention by causing a scene.

  Jake lowered his voice and moved his face closer to Frank’s. Even without words, the communication was clear. Frank now shifted his weight back and forth, considering the unspoken statements.

  “I want the rest of the information now,” Jake said slowly. “Don’t even try to tell me that paper is everything you have. I know better. For one thing, the tear on the side of the paper hardly looks a hundred years old. And the smudge doesn’t look that old, either, now that I think about it.” Jake ran an image of the small map through his mind.

  A woman walked by, accompanied by a small terrier on a leash and a young girl, who she pulled in closer to her as she passed the two men. Frank and Jake waited until they were alone again before continuing.

  “OK,” Frank said carefully, keeping an eye on Jake while he spoke. “I might have something else for you, but…” His voice trailed off and he looked at Jake inquisitively.

  Jake threw back his head and laughed, then brought his gaze directly into Frank’s eyes. “Don’t even think about blackmailing me for any more money. You’ve gotten all that you were promised. Now it’s your turn to hold up your end of the deal.” His eyes didn’t waver until Frank started to nod his head.

  Frank looked around nervously; making sure no one else was approaching.

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” he said, lowering his voice as a precaution. “We’re not going to meet in this place again. Too many times will look suspicious. For all we know, someone could have already seen us and wondered what was going on.” Frank paused and looked around again, then stopped with his gaze on Cache Street, directly across from the town square.

  “I’ll meet you tomorrow night at the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar. It’s crowded there and we won’t appear obvious to anyone. Besid
es, a good, tall lager sounds pretty good to me.” Frank shrugged his shoulders and stretched his neck to one side, then to the other.

  “Well, at least that’s one thing we agree on,” Jake answered, imagining a cold beer in his hands right then. “You’re on, but don’t let me down on this one. I already told you I held up my side of this deal. Now you’re going to follow through.”

  With that the two men parted ways, Frank heading toward one antler arch and Jake heading toward another. It would be a long twenty-four hours, Jake thought to himself, but he’d make use of the time. And tomorrow night he’d have his answer.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Paige took the narrow, dirt road east, climbing out of the flat land and winding into the hills. Tall rows of aspens lined the road, sunlight filtering through the last remaining leaves of gold and orange which represented the tail end of fall foliage. The sunlight cast sharp angles low across the ground, almost horizontal in the rapidly setting sun. Beyond a rocky scenic overlook, the road swung sharply down in switchbacks before flattening out beside a lake. Signs marked the way to a campground, spaces inside empty and quiet. Yet an open gate, not yet locked for the coming winter, allowed Paige to turn in.

  She followed the driveway towards an area designated for a boat ramp, turning left just before it and parking near a small picnic area, which looked out over the water. The surface of the lake was rippling and a chilly breeze hit her face as she stepped out of her car. Paige followed a path to a picnic table, took a seat and stuffed her hands in her pockets to try to keep them warm.

  The sun was just slipping behind the horizon and wisps of clouds had started turning from a pale, whitish-yellow to a soft, light pink. An echo of the same pink settled over the lake, illuminating the ripples across the water. As the daylight continued to fade, the pink clouds turned to a deep rose and finally to nothing more than dark gray. The outline of the mountains became pronounced, appearing as jagged edges against the remaining sky.