Honeymoon for Three (11 page)

“Viewpoint for the dam ahead.” Penny brought
him out of his reverie.

He turned the car in the direction the sign
indicated, and they were soon sitting at the foot of the largest
concrete structure in the world—producer of hydroelectric power,
irrigator of farmland.

“Darn this rain,” Penny said. “We’ll melt if
we go out there. We’ll just have to eat lunch in the car.”

Fortunately,
they had plenty of food with them, including
pineapple juice, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cookies,
potato chips, and a can of peaches.

“
A feast fit for a king.” Gary was
particularly addicted to potato chips and made sure he got his
share.

“
Look at that car over there.
Except for the color, it’s just like mine.”

Gary directed his gaze at a 1959 Ford Fairlane
parked about fifty yards away, whose occupants apparently were also
looking at the dam. He couldn’t see who was inside the car. The
two-tone, green and white model had wings that were less pronounced
than those of the 1957 model had been. It looked stylish, but it
was a gas hog. Which is why they had opted to drive his economical
Volkswagen on this trip, even though Penny’s car, given to her by
her parents, would hold a lot more baggage.

***

Alfred saw their car pull up to the viewpoint.
He had guessed right about their destination, but he had parked far
enough away so they wouldn’t see him inside his car. They didn’t
know what his car looked like yet. It was just the car of another
sightseer. He was safe for the moment. Soon they would know his
car, but it would be because Penny was leaving in it with
him.

He could sit here and plot his next move. The
immediate problem was the rain. It was coming down in sheets, and
they showed no inclination to get out of the VW. It must be cramped
in that little car, especially with all the stuff they had in the
backseat. He was glad he had the roominess of his Ford, even though
buying gas for it was rapidly depleting his cash supply.

As long as Penny stayed in the VW,
he wouldn’t be able to isolate her so that he could talk to her. He
needed to catch her away from Gary. How could he do that? Alfred
finished his lunch. Penny and Gary stayed in their car. Alfred
thought about creating some sort of disturbance that would get
their attention and separate the two of them long enough for him to
do what he had to do. It was raining too hard.

While he dithered, time passed. Before he
could come up with a workable plan, they drove away.

***

Penny wasn’t sure why she felt the way she
did. The feeling was not one of terror, but the prelude to terror,
when the hairs on the back of your neck tell you that something
really bad is going to happen, but you’re not quite sure what it
is. Why should she feel this way at a pleasant campground in Little
Round Pond State Park near Sandpoint, Idaho?

They were cooking their dinner on
the Coleman stove and contemplating camping here for the night.
Gary was busy tending the stove and seemed to be as happy as a
mouse sitting on a mountain of cheese. They had come through
Spokane, Washington, in intermittent rain and then crossed into
Idaho. At Coeur d’Alene they had purchased some groceries and then
headed north through beautiful scenery—trees, hills, the occasional
lake. One thing the U.S.A. had in abundance was beautiful
scenery.

It was cool but not cold. The sun would be
setting in a while. Its rays were being filtered through the
evergreen trees. The air had that fresh, foresty aroma, the aroma
of an outdoors with clean air and no Los Angeles smog.

The ranger in charge of the campground was
being very attentive to them. He had the time to be attentive
because they were the only people in the campground. He was
middle-aged and mild-mannered. He wore glasses and a ranger
uniform. He looked as if he wouldn’t hurt a mosquito.

He was chatting with Gary at the moment,
asking where they had come from, where they were going. Why had
they decided to elope to Reno to get married? Didn’t they have
family? Friendly questions. Nothing to be concerned about.
Questions that anybody might ask. Questions that an ax murderer
might ask.

Since it was the end of the camping season,
the chances of anybody else showing up at this campground tonight
were slim. All right, the chances of the ranger actually being an
ax murderer ranged from slim to nonexistent. He was no more an ax
murderer than Gary was. Penny admitted to herself that her fears
were completely irrational. But irrational fears destroyed many a
night’s sleep.

Maybe it was the ghost of Emily, coming to
haunt her. Making sure that even when everything seemed idyllic,
she had something to worry about. Things were going too well. That
was a crazy thought, perhaps, but Penny couldn’t shake
it.

Before they put up the tent, she broached her
fears to Gary. She didn’t say that she thought the ranger was an ax
murderer. She said that the campground felt creepy since they were
the only campers. He was surprisingly sympathetic. He didn’t tell
her she was crazy. He said that if she felt this way they would go
on and stay somewhere else. She got the impression that he felt the
isolation too.

CHAPTER 12

The landscape was getting wilder and wilder.
Alfred had not known that large portions of the United States were
completely uninhabited. While driving across the country he had
encountered the emptiness of the plains, but at least there had
been scattered farm houses.

He didn’t know where Penny and Gary were. He
hoped he was ahead of them, because that’s what his plan called
for. He had stayed the night at a motel in Sandpoint, Idaho, and
gotten an early start this morning. Today, he knew that they
planned to go into Glacier National Park on the Going-to-the-Sun
Road. They had talked about hiking to a place called Sperry Chalet
where they would stay overnight. That was complete madness, and
Alfred would put a stop to it.

He ate an early lunch in Kalispell, Montana,
because his map didn’t show anything beyond it that looked
civilized. He had been picking up maps at gas stations as he went.
Fortunately, most of them were free. As far as dinner was
concerned, he expected to be back here by then, with Penny sitting
happily beside him.

He drove into Glacier National Park and
alongside Lake McDonald. He knew that the trail to Sperry Chalet
started from the lake. He drove carefully on the road that some
halfwits might call scenic, looking for signs. With trees on one
side of the road and the lake on the other, unbroken expanses of
green and blue, it was almost impossible for him to know exactly
where he was. He was afraid that he might have passed the trail
when he saw the sign. He pulled into a parking lot at the
trailhead.

His heart sank as he spotted the green
Volkswagen, sitting among a handful of other cars. Penny and Gary
were nowhere to be seen. Alfred parked his car and walked over to
the VW. It was locked. They were already on the trail.

***

“Do you remember when we climbed Mt. Manual
in the Big Sur?” Gary asked as they stopped to take a breather.

“Do I ever.” Penny sipped water from her
canteen. “It’s a good thing I had my hiking boots. If Grandpa
hadn’t sent me the ten dollars to buy them… Do you know that you’re
my first boyfriend he’s ever approved of?”

“You must have told him a good story.” Gary
had never met her grandfather. In fact, he hadn’t met any member of
her family except an uncle and aunt and a couple of cousins who
lived in Goleta.

“I told him all about you in my letters.
And, of course, I saw him when I went back east. I think the thing
that sold him on you is the fact that you’re not Catholic.”

“Then for my sake, I’m glad I’m not. Anyway,
Mt. Manual was a good training hike for this one. And I’m the one
who got blisters.”

“That rattlesnake scared the bejesus out of
me. I almost jumped off the mountain.”

The snake had skittered across the trail in
front of them. They had been hiking alongside a cliff, and for a
moment Gary had been afraid that Penny was really going to jump
off. That was when he found out how scared of snakes she was.

“I wouldn’t have made it if it hadn’t been
for you,” Penny continued. “Remember, I sat down and said I
couldn’t go another step.”

Gary had been sure they were very close to
the top. He went on ahead and spotted the peak. Then he returned
and persuaded Penny to go the rest of the way. She staggered to the
top, sank down on the ground, and took off her shirt to cool off.
She looked very appealing, sitting there in her white bra, but
neither of them had the energy to do anything about it.

Gary commented on that and Penny laughed.
“As I recall, we were sharing the peak with a herd of wild pigs, so
we would have had spectators if we had started messing around.
Anyway, this trail is duck soup compared to that one.”

After they had left the campground last
night, they had driven on to the thriving wilderness city of Libby,
Montana, and stayed at the Hotel Libby. It was a nice room, but
they weren’t sure whether they were sharing their bathroom with
others. This morning they drove to Kalispell, picking up purple and
green rocks on the way for a table they were planning to make. The
rocks were to be inlaid in plastic to form the tabletop.

In Kalispell,
they c
ashed travelers' checks and
purchased groceries. They arrived at Lake McDonald shortly after
noon and ate in the car because the meadow hummed with bees. Then
they set out for Sperry Chalet.

This trail wasn’t really easier than Mt.
Manual. It was longer, at 6.7 miles, with a 3,300 foot gain in
altitude. They had to hike through stream beds, and sprinkles of
rain fell on them from time to time. They were both holding up very
well. Gary figured they might make it to the chalet in three hours,
which was certainly faster than the average bear.

That thought made him look around. They were
indeed in bear country, including grizzlies, and they wanted to
stay clear of those big bad bears that could be killers. If Penny
thought rattlesnakes were scary… He didn’t mention this to her, but
they should keep moving. He shouldered his pack and said, “Time to
hit the trail.”

***

The fates were conspiring against Alfred.
Yesterday it was the rain at Grand Coulee Dam. Today they had
beaten him here, somehow. He thought they were going to sleep at a
campground near Sandpoint last night. If they had, he would have
arrived here before them. They usually dallied along the way, and
he had come directly here with only a couple of short stops.

All of the hope and optimism he had acquired
as a result of the meeting in Seattle had evaporated. Now he was
faced with few options. He could go home. If he had started for
home two days ago, he would be getting home today. Now he was
farther away from L.A., and it would take longer. It wasn’t a trip
he was relishing.

He could try to figure out where they were
going next and meet them there. According to the notebook, they
were planning to visit Glacier and Yellowstone parks for the next
few days. He was not planning to do any more camping, and other
options were few inside the parks. It would be difficult to keep
tabs on them. Besides, his money supply was approaching the
precarious stage, and he couldn’t afford to keep doing this
forever. He needed to have the Penny situation resolved
quickly.

He could wait here tomorrow morning and meet
them when they came down from the chalet. That would mean going
back out of the park to find a place to sleep and returning in the
morning. It might work, but among the other things he was running
out of was patience for waiting.

Or—and this would have been unthinkable a
couple of days ago—he could hike up to the chalet and have it out
with them there. They wouldn’t be able to avoid him in an isolated
environment. The more he thought about it, the better he liked the
idea.

There were a few niggling problems. He
didn’t have hiking boots. However, the start of the trail looked
fairly smooth. Maybe he didn’t need them. He didn’t have a pack.
But then, he didn’t have anything to carry in a pack. He had his
jacket with a hood, so he shouldn’t be cold. When the temperature
was warm enough that he didn’t have to wear it, he could tie it
around his waist.

On the plus side, he had a bottle he had
filled with water that he could carry with him. It had contained
orange soda, originally. It was made of glass; he would have to be
careful not to drop it, but it couldn’t weight much over two pounds
filled. He would travel light and move fast.

Alfred started along the trail, striding
briskly and whistling. One hundred yards later, his ankle started
hurting. He had completely forgotten about that damned ankle. He
wasn’t going to let that stop him. He would tough it out. He kept
going, albeit a little slower and with a slight limp.

***

They were enjoying dinner in the rock
building that contained the kitchen and the dining room when a
commotion occurred at the entrance. Penny wouldn’t have paid any
attention, figuring that it was just a latecomer for dinner, but
the door was opened with enough force that it swung in a 180-degree
arc and slammed against a doorstop, making all the diners look
up.

Then a hooded figure fell into the room,
landing facedown on the floor. The figure lay there, not moving,
while dead silence replaced the normal buzz of conversation.
Everybody was frozen in place for several seconds, like a tableau
painted by a French impressionist.