Cold Fear by Rick Mofina Page A

ensure they were not drawing anyone’s attention.
    “Walt, I am not leaving until you help me with the
obvious.”
    “Boychik , have I not
taught you anything? You should be home with your family, counting your
blessings,” Sydowski went back to his clipboard.
    “Walter,” Reed dropped his voice. “What is the best
homicide cop with the SFPD doing here?”
    Sydowski looked up to the peaks, blinking, remembering
what happened the last time Reed tried this dance with him.
    “I got nothing to say to you, Reed.”
    “There’s more going on here than a search for a child
lost in the woods, right, Walt?”
    A low, distant thunder rumbled. A helicopter, one
returning from the command post, was approaching.
    “I have to go, Reed.”

FOURTEEN

    The cutlery on the table rattled as
a helicopter passed over the crowded Eagle’s Nest Restaurant, a log cabin in
central Glacier National Park. It was filled with the aroma of bacon and the
murmur of customers hunched over coffee, talking about the activity out there.
    “What do you think is going on, Dad?” Twelve-year-old
Joey Ropa looked out the window.
    “Guys at the counter said it was a search for somebody
lost in the backcountry,” Joey’s mother, Lori, said.
    Her husband Bobby’s attention was outside in the parking
lot, on the arrival of two park ranger trucks and a Montana Highway Patrol four-by-four.
Their waitress arrived, taking their orders, chatting.
    “So are you guys from Brooklyn? I love your accents.”
    “You know what’s going on outside?” Bobby said.
    “A mountain rescue, or something. I’ll get a newspaper
for you.”
    After collecting the menus, she left.
    “Why you pumping her, Bobby? We’re on vacation.” Lori
pulled postcards from her bag, spreading them out.
    Bobby steepled his fingers, mulling something eating at
him from the other day when they were coming out of Grizzly Tooth. Something unsettling.
Ah, maybe it was nothing. Forget about it. Why get in a knot over it? He looked
around the restaurant--a great place, log cabin motif. Cedar floors and tables.
Rustic. The fragrance of the forest, the frying bacon. He loved it.
    This trip was a celebration of sorts for his promotion
and Lori getting a raise as a manager with the Port Authority. They were
thinking of moving to Glen Ridge, or buying a cabin. He should be thinking in
that direction, not on something from the other day on their trail. He said
little when the food came. He watched the parking lot, the increasing activity
with the rangers.
    “What is it, Bobby?” Lori knew. “What is your quandary?”
    “I should have said something.”
    “About what?”
    “The other day.”
    “What? The other day? A few details would help here.”
    “With that family the other day on Grizzly Tooth.”
    “Would you drop that? You are not working.”
    “Something was not right with them.”
    Another helicopter passed overhead.
    “I should have said something.”
    “Bobby, this is crazy. You’re upset because you missed a
chance to what, fight with the guy? Tell him off?”
    “No, Lori, it’s not like that at all.”
    “What then?”
    “Look around. The helicopters. The search.” He left
their table and approached a ranger at the cash register.
    “Excuse me,” Bobby said. “I understand there’s a
search.”
    “Yes, sir.” The young ranger was all friendly. “A little
ten-year-old girl wandered away from her campsite and is lost.”
    “What trail?”
    “Grizzly Tooth. Real deep in there near the border.”
    “That so. We were there two days ago. When was this
reported?”
    “Yesterday afternoon. Seems that dad double-timed it out
of there to alert us. Sir, you have to excuse me. We’ve got a lot on the go.”
    Bobby returned to his table.
    “What happened, Dad? Is it that girl we saw the other
day?”
    Bobby looked at his son. Tenderly. “Could be, Joe.”
    Another helicopter, or maybe the same one, pounded
overhead.
    “Dad?” Joey said. “Can’t you do something?