Messenger: A Walt Longmire Story Read Free Page A

she wouldn’t go back inside, bears or no bears, so we climbed on top.”
    Vic chimed in after glancing around, but we couldn’t see the Bear or the bears. “I bet that was a short conversation.”
    The ranger looked at his wristwatch. “I figured we were going to have to wait till the septic service got here to pump this one out for the winter—it’s due in about twenty minutes or so.”
    Ms. Napier looked a little disgruntled. “Look, are you people going to do something about this?”
    Chuck glanced at me, having the response I normally had to people who referred to me or mine as
you people
, but then his voice became playful and it was obvious he was flirting with the woman. “Well, the first thing I’m going to do is write you a citation for fifty dollars if this is your first offense in feeding bears, two hundred if it’s your second, but if it’s your third, the fine goes up to a thousand and six months of jail time.” He acted as if he was going to pull out a pencil and his citation booklet. “So which is it, first, second, or third?”
    The woman stared at him and then smiled. “My first.”
    “So you saw it, whatever it was in the restroom?”
    She shook her head at me. “Not really.”
    “And the culprit is still in there?” I shared a look with Chuck and Vic and the three of us glanced back at the Porta Potty. “You’ve got it locked in the john?”
    The ranger threw a thumb toward the woman. “Whatever it was, it appears to have attacked this lady in situ.”
    My undersheriff snickered. “You’re kidding.”
    The woman stepped from one foot to the next. “Look, you might think this is funny . . .” I held up a hand in my best cop manner, but she wasn’t stopping. “It scratched my ass all to pieces, and I still have to go.”
    None of us were quite sure what to say to that, but Chuck jumped in with what he thought was the obvious. “Well, just go over to those trees near the hillside.”
    She interrupted this time. “No way.” She glanced at the creek and then at him as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “Bears.”
    We all turned and looked at the campground bathroom.
    •   •   •
    It was really unfair to call it a Porta Potty. It was actually much more than that—what they call in the literature a self-contained, free-standing restroom facility; it sat on a concrete pad in the national forest and was made of heavy wood with a lower foundation of masonry and river rock. With a short overhang and shallow shingled roof it must’ve been a chore to climb onto even if you had opposable thumbs, but its construction was responsible for saving Coon and the young woman from being further molested by ursa trio.
    I was the most curious to see what might be in there, so I was the one elected to grip the metal handle of the forest service convenience and open the door. I’d placed an ear against it but hadn’t heard anything. “Is everybody ready?”
    “Wait. Where are the bears?” Andrea was standing back near Chuck’s truck with the door open so she could get in quickly should the need arise.
    I gestured toward the small valley leading up into the true high country. “I saw Henry a good quarter mile away leading them across the creek.”
    She looked unsure. “What if there’s another one in there?”
    I shook my head. “I don’t think they would leave one behind; besides, if it was a bear we’d have heard something by now.” I glanced at the building. “Whatever it is, it’s not making much noise.”
    Chuck and I stood in front of the door as Vic stepped to the other side, reaching under her Flyers sweatshirt and drawing her sidearm from a hideout holster at her hip. When I looked at her, she shrugged. “Fuck it; we don’t know what’s in there.”
    I sighed, pulled the lever, and yanked the door wide.
    Empty.
    There was a large scarf lying on the concrete floor of the small structure but nothing else out of the ordinary. Vic, with the 9mm extended, moved