that she was found on the Cold River Indian Reservation. Did you sanction a search for Bigfoot on the reservation without the permission of the Cold River tribal leaders, as told to us by the Tribal Council Chair, Bluefeathers?”
“We knew that Jennifer Kruger and her boyfriend, Carl, were going to camp on the reservation. We didn’t think that it would be a bad thing, particularly if we found evidence of Bigfoot.”
“So the end justifies the means?”
“No, not really, but there is a lot of information from certain individuals and families on the reservation of Sasquatch sightings over many decades, centuries, on the reservation. They don’t really talk about it all that much, but almost every person I’ve talked with on the reservation believes with a certainty that Bigfoot exists there in the wild.”
“So you purposely put people on the reservation, covertly?”
“They went in on their own accord. I didn’t go onto the reservation, but I am planning to go back to that area tonight. Near the rez. See what I can see.”
“Thanks, Stan. This is Linda Chavez, CNN News.”
Yes, I’m going back to the area, Stan thought as he left the studio. Not just to the area, but back on the rez. To find Sasquatch. Only this time, I will be the one to find the biped. Become famous. Rich.
In the end, he saw too much.
C hapter 19
Parker Creek
Smokey straightened up and watched Nathan roll the torso over. He didn’t think the odor could get worse, that sickly, sweet smell of death, but it did.
I’m gonna have to burn these clothes, go to the sweat lodge for a day. A warrior can’t be this close to death and not be cleansed later. As soon as possible.
Nathan tapped the back pocket area of the dress trousers and then reached down and unbuttoned the pants pocket on the left side. “I carry my wallet on the right side,” he said, and he carefully reached in and removed the wallet.
“You don’t carry a wallet,” Smokey remarked.
“Well, if I did carry a wallet, it would be on the right side. Anyway, here it is.” Nathan let the body roll back and stood with the wallet.
“Let’s see who Mr. Dead Man really is,” he said, and Smokey leaned over and looked. Nathan slowly opened the double fold wallet and a fat maggot rolled out and dropped on the ground by Smokey’s feet. Smokey took a step back as Nathan removed an Oregon Driver’s License. The photo showed a man with dark hair, thirty years old, with an address in West Portland. An Apartment. Said his name was Mohammad Kal-leed.
Nathan kept the license out and bagged the wallet in a plastic evidence bag. He bent down again and worked on the man’s shoe, first untying it, and then carefully sliding it off the swollen, putrefied foot. Smokey put his arm around his nose and breathed through his mouth. The shoe was a brown oxford, a dress shoe.
“Let’s see,” Nathan said. “Mr. Kal-leed has expensive taste in shoes. This, and the other one that Mr. Bear has undoubtedly taken to try on somewhere, is a size ten. What you think, Little Bro, maybe five hundred at Macy’s?”
Smokey pointed up.
“Okay, six hundred on sale.”
“I think I should call the boss, let him know what we have found so far.” Smokey walked uphill from the dead man as Nathan bagged the shoe, and took more pictures of the remains and the evidence. He took his cell phone out and punched the speed dial for Chief Martin Andrews.
“Wait,” Nathan said, holding his hand up. “Let’s do a survey of the meadow, take thirty minutes in good light, and we’ll have more information to give the chief. Maybe find the woman. Then call.”
They started, and at the west end, near the tree line, found another shoe.
Nathan looked over at Smokey. “How the hell did he get here? See any tracks?”
Smokey had been wondering about that. How did the body get here? There were no roads, no mule or horse tracks, and no people tracks except for Jennifer’s.
“Air drop?” Smokey
“We knew that Jennifer Kruger and her boyfriend, Carl, were going to camp on the reservation. We didn’t think that it would be a bad thing, particularly if we found evidence of Bigfoot.”
“So the end justifies the means?”
“No, not really, but there is a lot of information from certain individuals and families on the reservation of Sasquatch sightings over many decades, centuries, on the reservation. They don’t really talk about it all that much, but almost every person I’ve talked with on the reservation believes with a certainty that Bigfoot exists there in the wild.”
“So you purposely put people on the reservation, covertly?”
“They went in on their own accord. I didn’t go onto the reservation, but I am planning to go back to that area tonight. Near the rez. See what I can see.”
“Thanks, Stan. This is Linda Chavez, CNN News.”
Yes, I’m going back to the area, Stan thought as he left the studio. Not just to the area, but back on the rez. To find Sasquatch. Only this time, I will be the one to find the biped. Become famous. Rich.
In the end, he saw too much.
C hapter 19
Parker Creek
Smokey straightened up and watched Nathan roll the torso over. He didn’t think the odor could get worse, that sickly, sweet smell of death, but it did.
I’m gonna have to burn these clothes, go to the sweat lodge for a day. A warrior can’t be this close to death and not be cleansed later. As soon as possible.
Nathan tapped the back pocket area of the dress trousers and then reached down and unbuttoned the pants pocket on the left side. “I carry my wallet on the right side,” he said, and he carefully reached in and removed the wallet.
“You don’t carry a wallet,” Smokey remarked.
“Well, if I did carry a wallet, it would be on the right side. Anyway, here it is.” Nathan let the body roll back and stood with the wallet.
“Let’s see who Mr. Dead Man really is,” he said, and Smokey leaned over and looked. Nathan slowly opened the double fold wallet and a fat maggot rolled out and dropped on the ground by Smokey’s feet. Smokey took a step back as Nathan removed an Oregon Driver’s License. The photo showed a man with dark hair, thirty years old, with an address in West Portland. An Apartment. Said his name was Mohammad Kal-leed.
Nathan kept the license out and bagged the wallet in a plastic evidence bag. He bent down again and worked on the man’s shoe, first untying it, and then carefully sliding it off the swollen, putrefied foot. Smokey put his arm around his nose and breathed through his mouth. The shoe was a brown oxford, a dress shoe.
“Let’s see,” Nathan said. “Mr. Kal-leed has expensive taste in shoes. This, and the other one that Mr. Bear has undoubtedly taken to try on somewhere, is a size ten. What you think, Little Bro, maybe five hundred at Macy’s?”
Smokey pointed up.
“Okay, six hundred on sale.”
“I think I should call the boss, let him know what we have found so far.” Smokey walked uphill from the dead man as Nathan bagged the shoe, and took more pictures of the remains and the evidence. He took his cell phone out and punched the speed dial for Chief Martin Andrews.
“Wait,” Nathan said, holding his hand up. “Let’s do a survey of the meadow, take thirty minutes in good light, and we’ll have more information to give the chief. Maybe find the woman. Then call.”
They started, and at the west end, near the tree line, found another shoe.
Nathan looked over at Smokey. “How the hell did he get here? See any tracks?”
Smokey had been wondering about that. How did the body get here? There were no roads, no mule or horse tracks, and no people tracks except for Jennifer’s.
“Air drop?” Smokey
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