Undercover In Conard County

“Sorry, we don’t have them.”

“I know.” Far too few wardens for the land area they needed to cover. And when you got up into those mountains, it wasn’t like there were houses scattered around with people who were willing to call and complain about suspected poaching. There was nothing up there except a couple of park service shacks, and most of them would be closed for the winter.

She glanced at Kel again, liking the lean toughness of his face. Liking his lead-gray eyes. Ah well. Finally she acknowledged there was only one way to go at this, much as she didn’t like it. “Your idea is probably the best.”

“To get the outfitters ring? Yeah. Won’t stop any other poaching, though.”

“I know, but since we can’t staple a warden to every animal or herd, let’s get the most egregious offenders. I can’t tell you how angry it makes me, Kel. Furious to think that people are profiting this way off these animals. Poach to feed your family? I get that. But these guys, dangling bait in the water and charging lots of money for guiding someone who only wants a trophy and doesn’t care if it’s illegal? There’s something about that...”

She trailed off and tried to continue eating. She couldn’t really explain the difference in so many words.

“I get what you’re saying,” he said while she ate some more stew. “It’s in no way excusable. Charging thousands to bring in people from out of state and lead them illegally to an animal when all they want is a trophy? I can understand the hunters better than I can understand the outfitters.”

“I can’t,” she admitted after she swallowed. “I hate trophy hunting above all. The guys helping are after the money. Greed is a motivator for a lot of people. But the hunters? All they want is bragging rights hanging on their walls.”

He nodded. “And we’ve got a little quirk in Wyoming law that hinders us finding these guys.”

She swallowed some more stew and looked at him. “You mean that anyone can guide two other licensed people with him on a hunt as long as he doesn’t get paid? Yeah. Hard to prove the no pay part.”

“Regardless, the licensed professional outfitters are working with us. They’re no more happy about the poaching than we are.”

“Cuts into their business?”

He nodded. “When the illicit guys offer the hunts for a lower price because they’re not licensed and because their clients don’t have to get through a drawing to get one and pay for it...they have an advantage, moneywise. Plus, they’re reducing the number of trophy animals available. The pros are out there all year scouting.”

“No kidding.” She finished her stew and carried her bowl to the sink to rinse it out. Then she got them both some fresh coffee. “I run into some of the nearer outfitters when I’m out tracking the herds. I have to admit, they help by sharing information.”

He looked at her over his mug. “But you don’t like them.”

She flushed faintly. “I don’t dislike them, but I was raised to hunt for myself. My dad went out every year to bring home venison for the family larder, usually with a buddy or two because packing that animal out required more than one pair of shoulders. But it wasn’t the clambake method with a bunch of guides, cooks, tents, horses...”

“I get it,” he said when she trailed off. “You don’t like lazy hunting.”

“It’s not really sporting, to my way of thinking. What animal stands a chance when it’s been tracked by spotters for months, when there are people there to find it again, help the hunter aim his rifle and take his shot? And the outfitters aren’t supplying hunts to those who need the meat to eat. But...they exist, they’re legal, and my personal opinion can’t matter.”

“I hear you,” he said. “But the law allows it, so...”

“And as long as the hunters have the right permits and don’t break the law, I can’t really complain about their methods, can I? At least baiting big game is illegal.”

He rose from the chair and paced her small apartment slowly. “You’re interesting, Desi. I’m guessing you became a warden for the protection part.”

“Meaning?”

He halted and faced her. “You want to save the wildlife.”

“Absolutely. But I also understand the importance of harvesting. As long as we manage it so the populations don’t shrink, or don’t get so large they’re starving, I have no problems with the system.”

He laughed quietly. “Do you hunt yourself?”

“Only poachers.” But then she joined his laughter. “I don’t have time during hunting season, Kel. I’d need to take time off, and there just aren’t enough of us.”

The phone rang, and she gave thanks that she’d at least had time to eat. “Warden Jenks.”

“Jim Cashford,” said a voice she knew well. “Desi, there’s a fire and some lights up on the mountain near the old Cranbrook road.”

“I’ll look into it.”

When she hung up, she found Kel already pulling on his vest. “You think you’re going?”

“Hey, I’m your new best friend. What’s going on?”

“A fire, which is illegal, and lights bright enough to be seen from Jim Cashford’s ranch.”

Downstairs she got on the radio and raised another warden. “I need backup,” she told Jos Webber. “Fire and lights near old Cranbrook Road.”

“On my way,” came his crackling answer.

She picked up her satellite phone, slipped on an armored vest and donned her olive-green jacket over her sweater. No red shirt tonight. Just a lot of protection.

“You got any armor?” she asked Kel.

“Not with me.”

She hesitated, then went to a locker and tossed him a vest. “Mind yourself now,” she said. “Or stay here.”

He didn’t stay behind.

* * *

Kel was amused. Desi was quite an interesting character. She didn’t approve of sport hunting, but accepted that some of it was allowed by law, and could even summon a good reason or two, like the herds needed to be harvested to a reasonable extent, and the outfitters offered her information from their scouting trips. She liked eating game but didn’t have time to hunt.

And she told him to mind himself. As if he wouldn’t know how. He’d been an army Ranger before he’d come to this job, and had walked into a lot more dangerous situations than this. Which was not to say a warden couldn’t get shot, but it didn’t happen that often. Though people might cuss them when they got a citation or lost their hunting privileges, they weren’t inclined to murder. But it was still dangerous. Careless hunters were always dangerous.

They drove through the night toward the mountain. He already knew Cranbrook Road. It was hardly more than a cart track that was occasionally graded mainly because it provided access to the state lands hunters and fishermen wanted to get to. By keeping Cranbrook basically functional, it reduced the likelihood that hunters would travel over posted private property to go hunting.

He watched her drive with calm competence over back roads she probably knew as well as her own hand and sensed the distance in her. He wondered if he had put her that much on guard, or if the job had. She could laugh and smile, but she avoided getting personal about anything except being a warden. And she hadn’t even questioned him about his background. Pure business.

He wondered if those walls ever fell. She was appealing, and he’d really like to get to know what lay behind the warden’s facade. She couldn’t possibly be nothing but a warden. People had lives, had problems, had hopes and dreams. But Desi...always back to business.

He admitted he’d been guilty of some of that himself for a long time. When you lost buddies, you stopped making close friends. War had carved something out of him.

But what had carved Desi? Something sure had.

He forced his attention back to the job at hand. The darkness of the night was consuming. No stars, no moon. No wonder that rancher had seen the lights and fire on the side of the mountain. There was no light anywhere else.

He caught a glimpse of it as they climbed in the truck, but only a glimpse. It was a camp, not a city, and vanished in the trees almost as soon as he saw it.

“Any idea where it is?” he asked.

“Some, but I hope you’re ready to hike. You can stay with the vehicle if you want. Jos is coming to back me up.”

“I’m not staying with the car,” he said firmly. No way was he going to stand back when there might be danger.

“What do you want me to tell Jos about you?”

“That I insisted on coming, that I just got out of the Rangers.”

“I don’t like lying to my fellow wardens.”

No real surprise there. Not only did they have to work together, but they had to trust each other. He sighed. “Can they keep secrets?”

“As far as I know.”

“Then I guess I can let them all know what I’m here for. Might as well. There’s just so far undercover I can go, I guess.”

“You might need backup,” she pointed out. “You can’t run a one-man operation. If these guys come after you...” She paused. “You know, interfering with one of their hunts might be the most dangerous thing you can do. If you come across one, you’re going to need backup.”

“Maybe so. But if coming across one of their hunts were likely, you and your wardens would have already done it. No, I need to draw them out. So I ask again, do you trust all your wardens?”

This time she didn’t answer as they jolted their way up the track. When she finally pulled over onto a small patch of flat, open ground and turned off her engine, she finally spoke. “You’re a friend of mine, you just got out of the army and came to visit. End of story.”

“Fair enough.”

“And I guess that means you ought to move into the bunkhouse.” Then she slipped out of the truck and opened the crew door to pull out her rifle. Because tonight was potentially dangerous. He didn’t need a map to know that.

“How are we going to put out the fire?” he asked.

She passed him a shovel and a jerry can full of water from the bed of the truck. “The usual way.”

He could have laughed. He put the can down beside his feet and leaned on the shovel. Before long he heard another truck approaching. It turned off its headlights before it reached them.

Soon a young game warden joined them and was introduced to him as Jos Webber. He almost looked wet behind the ears, but his bearing pegged him as confident and experienced.

“Kel Westin,” Desi said as she introduced him. “Old friend. He just got out of the army rangers.”

Jos stuck out his hand. “We can probably use you, sir.”

“Well, I don’t intend to get in the way.”

Jos looked him over in the dim glow of his flashlight. “Somehow I don’t think you’re the type. Interested in what it takes to be a warden?”

“Very,” he answered. But he was wondering why Desi had decided to use a cover story for him after saying she didn’t like lying to her fellow wardens. Did something not feel right to her? Or did she think they’d tell someone outside the service, like a family member? Or maybe this whole idea of illegal outfitters had her wondering just how far this stuff went?

He hoped after this she’d talk to him some more. He kinda felt like he was dangling by a thin rope here. He might have learned the terrain over the summer, but he hadn’t learned any of the people. He was going to need to rely on Desi for that.

Jos got his long gun and soon the three of them were heading into the forest where it impossibly grew even darker. As his eyes adapted more, however, the single red-lensed flashlight in Jos’s hand gave him ample light to avoid obstacles. After a half mile or so they didn’t really even need that as the flickering of firelight began to reach them through the scattered trees. A soft bed of pine needles silenced their feet.

“Spread out,” Desi said quietly. “I’ll approach.”

“Got you covered,” Jos answered. “Kel?”

“I can bash heads. Should’ve brought my pistol.”

“Stay behind one of us,” Desi said. “And put that water where you can find it again. I hope we won’t need it.”

Much as he hated it, Kel hung back just beyond the light cast by the campfire. He narrowed his eyes to prevent eyeshine from showing, set the heavy can down and waited half behind a tree. Easy from here to make out three tents and six men sitting around a fire. A fire in the tinder-dry autumn woods. Idiots. One spark on some dead pine needles and this place would go up fast.

Desi approached them, no longer moving quietly, with her rifle slung casually over her arm and pointing to the ground.

“Evening, gentlemen,” she called out. “Game warden.”

The men who’d already turned their heads her way and started to rise immediately sat back down on their folding camp chairs. “Howdy, Warden,” one of them answered.

“You guys out here hunting?” she asked pleasantly.

“In the morning,” the same man answered. “Half hour before dawn, right?”

“Right. Appreciate you paying attention to that.” She switched on her own flashlight. “Mind if I see your licenses?”

This caused all the men to stand to pull wallets out of their pockets. Kel felt uneasy as six men nearly surrounded Desi, but so far nobody was acting hostile. As each handed over his license, she studied it. “A moose permit?” she asked one of them. “You’re lucky.”

The guy laughed. “Been trying for ten years.”

“I hope you bag a nice one. And if you do, I guess you’ll be glad your buddies can help you carry it out.”

“You bet. That’s one of the reasons they’re here.”

“Just remember, gut it where you kill it, and tag it for transport. Wouldn’t want you to lose it.”

“Me neither,” the guy answered.

“Well,” said Desi, “you’re all square. Just a couple of things.”

“Yeah?”

Her voice tightened a shade. “Bright lights were seen here from below. You aren’t hunting with them, are you?”

“Hell no,” came a chorus of answers.

“Then don’t turn them on again tonight or I’ll have to come back and cite you. And I am going to have to cite you for that fire. You know you’re not allowed to have one out here. But first let’s put it out.”

“Just trying to stay warm,” someone grumbled.

“I understand that, sir, but it’s against the law. You wanna put it out right now, I could let you off with a warning. If you do it right.”

Still grumbling, but quietly, the men doused the fire with water.

“Guess we’ll have to go get more water tomorrow,” one said. “Dang.”

Desi squatted and felt the wet fire pit. “Turn it over, would you?”

One of the men got a small shovel and turned the ground over. Desi felt again. “A little more water to be safe. It’s still warm.”

A few minutes later, she stood, brushing her hand on her jeans. “Okay. No fire, no bright lights. What were you using them for anyway?”

“Setting up camp.”

Her voice turned a little sarcastic. “Really? I’m not saying you’re lying, but we both know you were probably doing more than that. Too bright and on too long. Don’t let me see them again. And if I get another call from down below about them, you won’t be hunting here for a while, okay?”

One of the men raised his arm. Kel acted instinctively and in a few strides was standing next to Desi. Jos had the same reaction, and he was on her other side just as fast.

“What?” said the guy who’d raised his arm. “I was just frustrated.”

“No reason to get frustrated,” Desi said mildly. “If you took your hunting classes, you don’t need me to explain the law. What’s more, we fly a plane over here at night sometimes, so you could get caught again. Since you already have a warning, nobody’s going to give you a second chance. Clear?”

Desi pulled out her book, and taking each hunter’s license and ID, wrote him a warning, then passed him a copy. When she was done, she wished the man well with his moose hunt, reminding the group that the national forest was closed to hunting this year.

A half hour later, they were hiking back through the woods to the road, this time with the aid of two flashlights.

“I’m thinking,” said Jos, “that they were pushing the law.”

“It occurred to me,” Desi said drily. “I hope they got the message. But when you wait ten years for a moose permit, maybe it’s a little harder to follow the rules.”

Kel thought that was pretty generous considering the men had been committing two serious violations. If he had the time and opportunity, he hoped he could figure this woman out a little better. In some ways she appeared to be a bundle of contradictions.

Lugging the big can of water and the shovel, he studied what he could see of the back of her head, and decided this was a good view, too.

Back at the trucks, they all shook hands, then Jos took off into the night. Kel helped Desi load the water can and shovel into the bed of her truck, and stood by while she removed the ammo from her gun and put it in the rack in the back.

“This place will be crowded before dawn tomorrow,” she remarked as they jolted down the road. “Well, as crowded as can be in the middle of nowhere.”

“Will you come back then?”

“Depends on how the rest of this night goes.”

He waited a moment, then asked, “What did you mean about me staying in the bunkhouse?”

“I’ve got a couple of cots upstairs off my apartment. They mostly get used by wardens staying overnight, but you’re welcome to one if you want it. Didn’t I just announce you were visiting me? Like that won’t get around.” She laughed quietly. “I don’t date. Everyone’s going to hear. Anyway, if it won’t interfere with your plans, help yourself.”

“But won’t I get in your way?”

“Not likely. This is the time of year when having a flexible schedule often means I have trouble finding time to put my head on a pillow.”

In his end of the business, as an investigator, he never really got into the ins and outs of a warden’s life. He supposed with so many people hunting in the fall, she probably had a full plate between patrolling for violations and the calls she received from people reporting them. He wondered about other times of the year, but didn’t ask.

He did know how much the wardens relied on people to inform them of possible violations. Some ninety wardens couldn’t be everywhere in a state this size. For every square mile of public land, there must be a helluva lot more private lands where game caused problems, where hunters went even when they shouldn’t. Impossible to keep an eye on everything.

“I’m going to introduce you to some people,” she said unexpectedly. “Some of the ranchers who border the public lands. They can be eyes and ears, if you want.”

“You trust them?”

“Most of them are cops, special-forces types or married to them.”

He smiled into the dark. A fascinating list.

“Like you,” she added, surprising him by teasing. “Do you trust yourself?”

“Of course. But this undercover op may be getting awfully big.”

“Well, I can talk to them myself, but you’d be safer out there if they knew what you were doing.”

He should probably think about it. “Let’s not tell anyone just yet. I’ll give it some thought, but for now I’m just an old friend visiting. Anyone who would doubt that?”

“Not really. I know people around here, but I’ve only been in this area for five years. There’s a lot about my past no one would know in any detail.”

That was an advantage he supposed. “Regardless, I need to know some of that past and how I fit in because somebody’s going to ask questions.”

She hesitated. “You going to take up the offer of the bunkhouse?”

“Now that you’ve announced me, I suppose I should.” He’d come out here with one plan only, to keep his eyes peeled for questionable activity and to try to draw a threat his way. Somehow, everything was changing. His plan about appearing to be trying to get close to her hadn’t involved sharing quarters. He’d better get on it before it all went sideways.

Chapter 3

Kel went back to the motel to gather his personal gear. Desi wondered if she were busy losing her mind. The guy had come out here to try to stick his head in a noose, and she was inviting him to stay with her?

She paced her small apartment, reminding herself that he’d suggested that looking like he was cozying up to her would fit the role he was playing. Well, this was going to get really cozy now.

She knew that some of these illegal outfitters could net upward of fifty thousand dollars in a hunting season. Because they stayed small to avoid trouble and notice, they didn’t guide as many hunts, and didn’t provide all the comforts. Two or three guys, a tent, trail food and bring your own gun. But still cheaper because they took hunters who weren’t licensed, which was a big savings for the nonresident hunter, and a savings for them because they didn’t do the big production method.

They might have a few horses to pack into the wilderness, but they could run only one hunt at a time and didn’t have the cost of a large stable. On the one hand, on the other hand. Trade-offs. She remembered one outfit that kept operating long after their license had expired...and got caught only because somebody who was considering hiring them actually checked out their outfitters license listed on the webpage.

But Kel was after something that was apparently breaking itself into small pieces to avoid notice. A group steadily sinking below the radar. A group taking game it held no permits for.

Kel was running a big risk. The loss of money, the possible jail time, the fines...yeah, it could get dangerous going after people who faced that.

But first they had to be found. She wondered if any other officers with the WIU were in other locations doing the exact same thing. Probably.

Sighing, tired of thinking about the job all the time, she put some music on her stereo, something quiet but upbeat, started some coffee, then hopped in her shower for a quick wash.

She realized she didn’t have much of a life anymore, outside her work. Maybe she’d become obsessed? She promised herself that after this season was over, she would find something to do with her time that in no way resembled her job. Maybe hang out with the girls as Julie and Connie kept suggesting. She’d worked awfully hard to become a senior warden so early in her career, and she guessed she’d become a little distorted in the process.

Work all the time? That had to stop.

She was wearing some casual sweats when she heard Kel rap on her door. Yep, he was taking her up on the bunk. She went to let him in, saying, “Straight back, the door at the end of the hall.”

“Thanks.” He smiled at her and carried his duffel over his shoulder, marching away.

It was, she thought sourly, a sign of her fatigue that she’d made this offer, especially to a man she found so attractive. She could almost smell trouble in the air, like smoke in the breeze.

Oh, well. She plopped on her sofa, put her sock-covered feet up and worked on a mug of coffee. She was lucky that caffeine never kept her up.

Kel returned a few minutes later.

“There’s coffee if you want any.”

“Thanks. Think you’re done for the night?”

“Who knows? Flexible hours sometimes means all of them.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I’m familiar with that.”

She watched him stride around the edge of the couch and sit in the chair on the other side of the coffee table. “Get-acquainted time,” she said. “When did you leave the Rangers?”

His dark gray eyes studied her. “Three years ago, after I tore up my knees so bad they gave me a medical discharge.”

She sat up a little straighter. “Did they fix them for you?”

“I can still walk. The pain doesn’t count, so the answer is no.”

“That stinks.”

“I’m not so sure I want artificial knees just yet. These are still working.”

She sipped some more coffee, aware that emotions were trying to edge into this picture. She wasn’t sure she should let them. Keeping a reasonable distance from entanglements had so far served her well. “That’s tough.”

“That’s what they make ibuprofen for. I’m okay.”