Chapter 15
Luke
I’ve been tracking Mr. Richie Rich for almost an hour. He left his campsite and headed up the trail towards the alpine-parsley patch. His progress is sure and steady, as if he knows where he’s going.
I’m pretending to be interested in all the plants growing in the rocky terrain, stopping to take photos while keeping an eye on our suspect. He seems oblivious to me, so maybe I’m doing a great job blending in.
Cell service is spotty up here, so I don’t have a way to communicate with Kaylee back at basecamp right now. I’m anxious that she’ll be impulsive and get herself into trouble, even though she promised me she would be careful watching our remaining suspects. That kiss we shared before I walked away from her to track this suspect, left me reeling and it made me realize that I’ve fallen for her. Even though I didn’t believe in insta-love before, I do now. My worries mount and I hope my beautiful partner doesn’t do anything rash .
A noise ahead makes me stop in my tracks. I crouch behind a boulder and use my cell phone to zoom in on the scene ahead. Mr. Richie Rich is conversing with a man wearing a park ranger uniform. The ranger points in the general direction of the alpine-parsley patch. They talk for only a few minutes, but I manage to snap a few photos, including a very clear photo of the ranger.
The park ranger hikes back in the direction of the campground while Mr. Richie Rich continues his upward climb. My hiding spot is blown because the park ranger is coming right towards me. Taking a page from my klutzy sidekick, I purposefully trip on a rock as I pretend to take photos. As I stumble into the open, the ranger glances up and glares at me.
“Oh hello! Maybe you can help. What plant is this?” I ask as I gesture towards one of the abundant scruffy-looking bushes surrounding my feet. “I’ve been taking photos of them all morning! Wait until I show Mom!” I say in my nerdiest voice .
He reluctantly stops and gives me an impatient look. “You’re supposed to stick to the trail,” he admonishes.
Nodding furiously as I return to the trail, I say, “Of course! Of course!”
He scowls. “An amateur hiker shouldn’t be at this altitude. The park service doesn’t appreciate having to rescue imbeciles like you. Turn around and follow me.”
Ouch! This guy doesn’t mince words.
Scuffing the toe of my hiking boot in the dirt, I say, “I’d like to continue. I’m looking for a rare plant that only grows around here.”
His posture stiffens. Have I hit a nerve?
“The lower elevations of the Rocky Mountain tundra have hundreds of rare plants. I’ll show you where you can photograph them,” he says in a no-nonsense voice, motioning for me to follow him.
“Mom gave me specific instructions to photograph alpine-parsley. Do you know where that grows? ”
Scowling at me, he says, “That plant grows in a protected area, and there’s no trespassing. You need to come with me.” His expression and tone brook no argument.
Dang! Short of running away from him—which would be difficult at this altitude—I need to follow him so he doesn’t suspect me and potentially tip off Mr. Richie Rich, which would put a quick end to our surveillance.
Knowing I’ve blown my opportunity to catch Mr. Richie Rich in the act of harvesting some alpine-parsley, I grudgingly turn around.
The least I can do is make this guy’s hike unbearable, right?
Scrambling to catch up to the ranger, I say, “Mom sent me to get photos for her podcast. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Rare Flora and Delightful Brews of the Rocky Mountains ?” I ramble.
He throws me a disbelieving side-eye look. “Never heard of it,” he says brusquely, his stride quickening .
“Oh, my! You’re missing out,” I exclaim as I jog to keep up. “Mom visits coffee shops located in the mountains, providing informative reviews of their local brews.”
He grunts. “What’s coffee reviews got to do with rare plants?”
“I’m glad you asked! What Mom discovered is that there’s a lack of knowledge about the plethora of plants growing in the mountains. Not one podcast was focused on that topic. Being the entrepreneur that she is, Mom combined her love of coffee and plants and created a digital media experience like no other.” Unable to curb my enthusiasm for this yarn I’m spinning, I add, “She just added her fifty-first follower. I can text you a link if you want!”
The man looks like he just sucked on a lemon with his pursed lips and wrinkled nose. “I’ll pass,” he clips.
“Surely you like coffee? Mom has produced some episodes with very insightful reviews.” I bite my tongue to keep from spewing out any more drivel .
What am I going to do if he decides he wants to become a follower?
He holds up his hand. “Listen, I’m not interested in your mom’s quirky podcast. I’ll show you to an area where you can get some good photos. End of story.” Quickening the pace further, he marches off as I stand with my mouth hanging open, shocked at his rudeness. Even though I’m lying through my teeth, his tone and unpleasant attitude sting.
We finish the hike in uncomfortable silence. When we’re close to the campground, he leads me to a patch of common cinquefoil, easily identifiable by its yellow flowers. There are hundreds of these in the area.
“There! Your mom will want to feature those rare plants on her podcast,” he says in a sarcastic voice and stalks off.
I make a show of snapping several photos in case he’s watching. My mind spins as I head back to camp. The plot thickens because it sure looked like Mr. Richie Rich was heading right toward the alpine-parsley. The fact that the ranger let him go on but immediately took me away definitely smacks of him being in cahoots with Mr. Richie Rich. In fact, the ranger looked like he was giving the guy directions. Wait until I tell Kaylee this new development!