Chapter Four
“So were they dry bones, like a Halloween skeleton, or was there rotting flesh and stuff?” Carter sat across the dinner table from Bethany and helped himself to mashed potatoes.
“I don’t like the idea of you being involved in any of this,” Mom said from one end of the table.
“I’m not involved in anything,” she said.
“You and Ian Seabrook got friendly really fast,” Dalton said.
“He rented a Jeep and I delivered it,” she said.
“And stuck around to take a hike with him. Where he showed you a couple of human skeletons.” Carter made a face. “Not my idea of a fun date.”
“It wasn’t a date. And it was my idea to go up to those caves, not Ian’s,” she said. “He was just as shocked as I was to find those bones up there.”
“I think you should stay away from the whole thing.” Her father, a tall, broad-shouldered man whose dark hair showed slashes of silver at the front, looked up from his hamburger steak and gravy. “From what your brothers tell me, this young man doesn’t have the best reputation.”
“He’s only been in Eagle Mountain two days,” she protested.
“All the more reason to stay away from him,” her mother said. “We don’t know anything about him.”
“He talked about his plans for the via ferrata,” she said. “I think it’s going to be something a lot of people will enjoy.”
“People who have no business climbing, you mean,” Carter said.
“Who are you to say who can climb and who can’t?” Bethany countered.
“That’s enough, children,” their mother said.
Bethany pushed back her chair. “May I be excused? I have a search and rescue meeting.”
“So do we.” Dalton pushed back his chair, and Carter did as well.
Bethany didn’t wait for her brothers. She headed out in her Subaru and arrived at search and rescue headquarters ahead of them.
Then she sat in the parking lot for a few minutes and pulled herself together.
Time to put aside her frustrations over family and lingering upset over the afternoon’s events.
She was here to focus on her search and rescue training and learning how to better help other people.
The large training room was already filling up by the time she made her way inside. “Hey, Bethany,” her best friend, Chris, greeted her. The two friends embraced.
“It’s been ages since I’ve seen you,” Bethany said.
“I know. But I’ve been so busy with the wedding and Serena and everything.
” Chris and her fiancé had recently adopted a little girl and were getting ready for their wedding this fall.
As happy as Bethany was for them, she couldn’t help but feel her friend was slipping away.
Chris had other priorities now, some of which Bethany could admit she envied.
But she was determined not to reveal any of that. She turned to greet the other volunteers around her. Across the room, she heard Carter and Dalton arrive. They were quickly surrounded by other young men in the group.
Bethany turned her back on them. She still resented that her brothers had decided to join SAR—something that, until their arrival, had been one thing she didn’t have to share with her family.
But they were good volunteers, fit and capable, so she couldn’t very well protest their acceptance into the group.
All she could do was focus on her own training and being the best team member she could be.
“Bethany, you have to tell us about the bones they found in Humboldt Canyon.” Eldon Ramsey, a big, burly guy who was originally from Hawaii, cornered her as she was grabbing a cup of coffee from the urn on a side table.
“Um, there’s not a lot to tell,” she said. “Except they looked like they had been in that cave a long time.”
“I heard there were two bodies.” Ryan Welch, Eldon’s best friend, joined them. “Is that true?”
“Yes. Well, more skeletons than bodies.”
“And they were murdered?” Ryan pressed. “How?”
“I’m not sure I should talk about it,” she said. “And I don’t really know anything.” She turned away, spooning too much sugar into her coffee.
“Maybe this will stop construction on the via ferrata,” someone she couldn’t see said.
“We should be so lucky,” someone else said.
“It might make Seabrook think twice about his project.” That was Carter’s voice, as familiar as her own.
“Some folks are talking about organizing a protest,” Eldon said. “If enough people show up to picket, maybe he’ll realize how unpopular his closing the canyon is.”
“I didn’t even know the canyon was for sale,” Caleb Garrison said.
“I think the old guy that owned it died and his heirs decided to sell,” Ryan said.
“Whoever bought the property probably would have closed it to climbing,” Sheri Stevens said. “Everyone is worried about liability these days.”
“At least Ian is doing something that will allow more people to enjoy the canyon,” Bethany said. “A via ferrata sounds like fun.”
“It sounds like a way for a lot of inexperienced people to get hurt,” SAR Captain Danny Irwin said. “Anybody who pays the fee can do those courses, whether they know what they’re doing or not.”
“Ian said he’s going to recommend people hire a guide,” she said. “And there will be safety equipment.”
“Sounds like you’ve gotten pretty friendly with Ian Seabrook.” Chris nudged her. “Pretty fast work there, considering he’s only been in town for a couple of days.”
Bethany tried to fight down a blush, aware that everyone was looking at her. “I’ve just talked to him,” she said. “Maybe if some of you would do the same, you wouldn’t be upset about what he’s doing.”
“He has a reputation in the climbing community,” Sheri said. “And it’s not all good.”
“What do you mean?” Bethany asked.
“He’s one of the top-ranked climbers in the world,” she said. “But there’s bad blood between him and some of his competitors. There was an incident with Tyler Grey in Indonesia last year.”
“I remember hearing about that,” Eldon said. “Tyler accused Seabrook of moving some anchors he’d set.”
“And there was that trouble two years ago in Mongolia,” Ryan said. “Seabrook organized an expedition to Khüiten Peak and bailed at the last minute. A lot of people had made plans, and he left them hanging.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Ian Seabrook I met,” Bethany said. Though really, they had only been together for a couple hours. He’d made a good impression on her, but still…
Danny checked his watch. “We’d better get started, or we’ll be here all night.”
They returned to their seats, and Bethany tried to focus on the review of best practices for transporting injured persons.
But she was aware of curious looks and whispered comments from those around her.
The image she had of Ian—of a thoughtful guy with good intentions—was so at odds with the picture they had painted of him.
Was he really a selfish braggart who ran over others to get what he wanted?
And if their impression of Ian was closer to the truth, was she yet again attracted to the wrong man?
* * *
Ian had an appointment two days later with the county to finalize the permits for constructing the via ferrata.
He hated all this behind-the-scenes bureaucracy but had learned to gut it up and plow through.
He intended to be as physically involved in the construction as he could, but first he had to jump this hurdle.
“Your building permits appear to be in order,” the woman at the clerk’s office told him.
“Here’s the inspection schedule that must be completed throughout the construction process.
And you’ll need to have final approval from the county commissioners before you can open for business.
Has anyone from the commissioners’ office contacted you? ”
“No. They should have a copy of my business plan,” he said. “What else do they need?”
“They may have questions for you.”
“Fine. How can I get in touch with them?”
“You’ll need to contact the chair, Walt Spies. His office is across the hall.”
Ian accepted the schedule from the woman and crossed the hall to the office labeled County Commissioners. The woman at the front desk informed him that Walt Spies wasn’t in. Ian left his number and returned to his Jeep.
He headed toward the canyon, anxious to get started.
He slowed as he passed the Peak Jeep Tours office.
He should stop and say something to Bethany, see how she was doing after the shock of the other day.
As he hesitated, a Jeep pulled up to the office and Carter Ames got out.
Ian pressed down on the accelerator and sped by.
He had caused enough friction between Bethany and her family.
As he neared the turnoff for the canyon, he was surprised to see a number of cars and trucks parked along the side of the road.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel.
Had people come to gawk at the place where the skeletons had been found?
They couldn’t ignore the signs he had posted, which meant they were deliberately trespassing.
At the end of the road, his way was blocked by a crowd of people milling about. He inched the Jeep forward, but they pushed in close. “No via ferrata!” they chanted. They leaned over, glaring into his windshield. “Open Humboldt Canyon!” others shouted.
He tapped his horn, but they pressed in closer. Finally, he shut off the vehicle and shoved open the door. “You people are trespassing on private property,” he said. “If you don’t leave, I’ll have to call the sheriff.”
“We have a right to peacefully protest!” a woman shouted.
“Not on my property!” Ian pushed through the crowd. He wanted to get a better look at the situation before he called for help.
The demonstration seemed to be concentrated at the entrance to the canyon, right outside the gates. So, technically not on his property. At least thirty people milled about, some with signs, others focused on a man who had climbed into the bed of a truck, bullhorn in hand.
Now that he was away from his Jeep, people didn’t appear to recognize Ian. They probably assumed he was another protester. He took advantage of that and hung back as the man with the bullhorn began to speak.
Unlike many of those gathered to demonstrate, this man was older, with a deeply lined face and stooped posture.
He wore jeans, boots, a snap-buttoned shirt and a straw cowboy hat.
His voice, amplified by the bullhorn, echoed around the canyon.
“We’re here today to protest the privatization of a public asset,” the man boomed.
“We’re here to take back Humboldt Canyon! ”
Cheers rose up from the crowd. Ian leaned down to address a petite brunette beside him. “Who is that?” he asked.
“That’s Walt Spies,” she said.
“The council chair?” Ian remembered the name.
“I think so. I know he owns a ranch near here.”
“We’re here to peacefully exercise our right to free speech,” Walt said. “Our goal is to make it very clear to Ian Seabrook that him and his via ferrata are not welcome in Eagle Mountain!”
More cheers. Ian’s stomach clenched. He moved toward the pickup. He had every intention of grabbing that bullhorn and telling everyone here exactly what he thought of them.
“Mr. Seabrook. Do you have something you’d like to say to us?” Walt leaned over the side of the pickup bed to address Ian.
Ian was startled that Walt had recognized him. But a simple online search would have brought up his picture. “You’ve all had your say. Now you need to leave,” he said.
“Do you still intend to go through with building a via ferrata here?” Walt asked. “Despite the public’s objections?”
“A couple of dozen people with signs don’t necessarily reflect the opinion of everyone,” Ian said.
“What about those two skeletons you found?” Walt asked.
He frowned. “They don’t have anything to do with the via ferrata.”
“You don’t think they’re a sign that you should leave well enough alone?”
“I don’t believe in signs,” Ian said.
“Maybe you should,” Walt said. “The universe doesn’t look kindly on disturbing a grave.”
The crowd pressed in around him, but Ian remained focused on Walt. He didn’t like the man, but considering his position in the county, Ian needed to tread lightly.
“I’m leaving the mystery of what happened to those two people to the sheriff,” he said. “I’m focused on building an attraction the whole town can be proud of.”
“We were proud of this canyon before you came along,” someone shouted.
“No via ferrata!” someone else shouted. The crowd took up the chant. “No via ferrata. No via ferrata!”
Ian turned and stared at them, struggling to keep his face expressionless. He couldn’t remember when he had felt so helpless—and so alone.
Two men ran toward him, and he braced himself for an attack. “Mike is hurt!” the first to reach him yelled, not at Ian but at Walt Spies. “Mike Addison is hurt. He fell and is hanging by one rope. We need help—quick!”