to
an untouched bowl of pretzel snacks and settled in.
I still had most of the beer and pretzels left when I saw Bettes , the one that had stayed at the lodge, approach the
bar. He walked up to the counter and
scanned the entire bar area. He looked
like if he clenched his teeth any harder, his whole jaw would burst. I decided to be nice.
“Can I get you a drink?” I asked.
“You work here?”
“Not officially, but I bet if you want something simple, I
can get it for you.”
“I just want a beer.” He looked at the choices on tap, “Sam Adams, preferably.”
“Coming right up.” I walked around the bar and poured him a
beer. After I set it in front of him, I
walked back to my spot.
He smiled. “Who do I pay?”
“Don’t you think they owe it to you after what just
happened?”
“Yes. Maybe not the lodge, but the cops sure do.”
“We’ll put it on their tab.”
“You can do that?”
“Sure.”
“You a cop?”
“No. I’m just a
guest like you.”
“Not like me. I
came here to help somebody, and everything’s gone to hell in a hand basket.”
“Sounds like my trip.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
I walked him through the reason for my presence at the
lodge and my being stood up. While I
talked, he guzzled down his beer. I picked up his empty glass and refilled
it. I finished my story at the same time
I returned with his beer.
“What’s your story for being here?” I asked.
“It’s too long and complicated,” he said.
We sat in silence for a minute or two before Bev walked
out of the nearby office. She looked over at Bettes ’
beer and then looked at me.
“Just put it on Detective Bruno’s tab. He said it would be ok.” I winked at her, and she played back.
“If you say so, but if he has any complaints, you can
handle them.”
Bettes laughed and said, “Let
him complain to me.” He looked back at me. “What did you say your name was?”
“West, Jim West,” I held out my hand, and he took it.
“I’m Colt Bettes . Let’s move over to one of those tables, and
I’ll tell you what’s going on. If you
know Bruno, you may be able to help us.”
I didn’t comment on his remark, but I did follow him to a
corner table.
“This is a long story, but you asked for it.”
“No problem, I’ve got nowhere to go.”
“Fifteen years ago, nearly to the day, my cousin, Sean,
came out here for a vacation. He’s
always been an intense guy, so he had a habit of taking a week off and going
somewhere by himself to unwind. Fifteen
years ago, he came out here alone to hike and read.”
“He certainly picked the right place.”
“This place wasn’t here back then. There were about a dozen rental cabins a
couple miles from here. They’re gone
now. Razed and private homes built in
their place. Well, two to three days
into his trip out here something happened that has just about destroyed Sean’s
entire life.”
“That’s too bad,” I said. I figured he might be exaggerating, “What happened?”
“I’ve gone through this so many times with Sean that I’ve
started to feel as though it’s my story.”
“Are you his brother?”
“No, a cousin.”
“That’s right, you told me that, sorry.”
“I happen to also be a psychologist. Sean has become a lifetime project, or
perhaps I should recognize it as an obsession. Unfortunately, it doesn’t pay.”
“I imagine he appreciates your help.”
He nodded, “This trip was supposed to be the culmination
of a lot of our work together. Now it’s
shot to hell in a hand basket.”
An old phrase I hadn’t heard in a while, and now I’d heard
it twice in one day. “What happened to him back then?”
“The craziest thing,” he paused for a minute like he was
getting his thoughts in order. “It was just after dark, a few days into his
trip. He heard a loud thud against his
front door. He had been out earlier and
while walking back
an untouched bowl of pretzel snacks and settled in.
I still had most of the beer and pretzels left when I saw Bettes , the one that had stayed at the lodge, approach the
bar. He walked up to the counter and
scanned the entire bar area. He looked
like if he clenched his teeth any harder, his whole jaw would burst. I decided to be nice.
“Can I get you a drink?” I asked.
“You work here?”
“Not officially, but I bet if you want something simple, I
can get it for you.”
“I just want a beer.” He looked at the choices on tap, “Sam Adams, preferably.”
“Coming right up.” I walked around the bar and poured him a
beer. After I set it in front of him, I
walked back to my spot.
He smiled. “Who do I pay?”
“Don’t you think they owe it to you after what just
happened?”
“Yes. Maybe not the lodge, but the cops sure do.”
“We’ll put it on their tab.”
“You can do that?”
“Sure.”
“You a cop?”
“No. I’m just a
guest like you.”
“Not like me. I
came here to help somebody, and everything’s gone to hell in a hand basket.”
“Sounds like my trip.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
I walked him through the reason for my presence at the
lodge and my being stood up. While I
talked, he guzzled down his beer. I picked up his empty glass and refilled
it. I finished my story at the same time
I returned with his beer.
“What’s your story for being here?” I asked.
“It’s too long and complicated,” he said.
We sat in silence for a minute or two before Bev walked
out of the nearby office. She looked over at Bettes ’
beer and then looked at me.
“Just put it on Detective Bruno’s tab. He said it would be ok.” I winked at her, and she played back.
“If you say so, but if he has any complaints, you can
handle them.”
Bettes laughed and said, “Let
him complain to me.” He looked back at me. “What did you say your name was?”
“West, Jim West,” I held out my hand, and he took it.
“I’m Colt Bettes . Let’s move over to one of those tables, and
I’ll tell you what’s going on. If you
know Bruno, you may be able to help us.”
I didn’t comment on his remark, but I did follow him to a
corner table.
“This is a long story, but you asked for it.”
“No problem, I’ve got nowhere to go.”
“Fifteen years ago, nearly to the day, my cousin, Sean,
came out here for a vacation. He’s
always been an intense guy, so he had a habit of taking a week off and going
somewhere by himself to unwind. Fifteen
years ago, he came out here alone to hike and read.”
“He certainly picked the right place.”
“This place wasn’t here back then. There were about a dozen rental cabins a
couple miles from here. They’re gone
now. Razed and private homes built in
their place. Well, two to three days
into his trip out here something happened that has just about destroyed Sean’s
entire life.”
“That’s too bad,” I said. I figured he might be exaggerating, “What happened?”
“I’ve gone through this so many times with Sean that I’ve
started to feel as though it’s my story.”
“Are you his brother?”
“No, a cousin.”
“That’s right, you told me that, sorry.”
“I happen to also be a psychologist. Sean has become a lifetime project, or
perhaps I should recognize it as an obsession. Unfortunately, it doesn’t pay.”
“I imagine he appreciates your help.”
He nodded, “This trip was supposed to be the culmination
of a lot of our work together. Now it’s
shot to hell in a hand basket.”
An old phrase I hadn’t heard in a while, and now I’d heard
it twice in one day. “What happened to him back then?”
“The craziest thing,” he paused for a minute like he was
getting his thoughts in order. “It was just after dark, a few days into his
trip. He heard a loud thud against his
front door. He had been out earlier and
while walking back
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