Endangered Species by Nevada Barr

found standing unaided.  Too many years leaning
    on shovels.
    A small green-and-white inboard puttered across the glassy water of the
    channel between Cumberland and the coast.  Near land the water was
    brown, a rich-looking soup.  Grasses waved in saltwater marshes along
    the shallows housing an abundance of life that never failed to amaze
    Anna.  Life was everywhere, even in the high desert, if one had the
    patience to look and to wait.  In this warm sea, life crawled and hopped
    and flapped over every available space .
    Patience was not required.
    The NPS boat docked and its human cargo crawled, hopped, and flapped out
    onto the wooden dock.  Hull trotted down from the office to welcome
    them.  His scarecrow figure, all angles and planes, topped by the
    flat-brimmed Smokey Bear hat, dominated the three lesser beings dressed
    in the pale green uniform of the United States Forest Service.
    "Shall we make ourselves useful?" Anna asked.
    "Why not." Rick levered himself away from the fender.
    A long white barn, open at both ends, reminiscent of a New England
    covered bridge, spanned the area from solid ground to the floating docks
    where the boat was moored.  Hull and the three visiting dignitaries
    seemed capable of handling the luggage, so Anna and Rick stopped in the
    shade and waited.
    Two squat men, their faces deep in the shadow of their green ball caps,
    came first carrying the bulk of the luggage.  Norman Hull walked behind
    them, crabbing his steps to match those of his companion.
    Anna narrowed her eyes against the wiquitous glare.  The Forest Service
    officer with Hull was a woman.  White hair, cut short and curling in
    such casual perfection it had to be natural, caught the sun like the
    down on a dandelion.  Anna guessed she was five foot three or four, but
    that could have been an illusion; she stood ramrodstraight, shoulders
    back, like a retired military man.  The bearing created a sense of
    height and authority.
    The woman's eyes were hidden behind dark aviator glasses.  The lower
    half of her face was wrinkled and sagged at the jawline.  Anna put her
    age somewhere between fifty-five and sixty-five.
    "Yikes!" Rick said ." Get a load of Grandma."
    Anna oinked a couple of times, granting his status as a sexist pig, and
    he laughed.
    "Maybe she'll bake us cookies," he said.
    Somehow Anna doubted that.
    The two carriers of heavy objects stepped under the covered quay and
    grunted with surprise as Anna and Rick materialized from the shadows.
    Hull and the white-haired woman were close behind .
    The chief ranger stopped to make the introductions.  Shorty Powell, a
    blunt mustachioed man in his forties, was the fixed-wing special1st.
    Wayne Pitt, the second man, was of an age with Powell and close to the
    same build but carried his weight around his middle .
    He was the maintenance specialist.  A dark, incredibly curly beard
    obscured much of his face.
    The woman, Alice Utterback, was the chief investigator .
    "Mrs.  Utterback," Hull introduced them, "this is Anna Pigeon and Rick
    "Spencer," Rick filled in for him.
    "Alice," the woman said.
    When Anna shook her hand it was warm and dry, the grip firm .
    The fingers were wrinkled, the knuckle of her pinky knobbed by arthritis
    or an old break.  Though her eyes were hidden behind the dark lenses and
    Anna couldn't see them, she felt them.  Rick, herself, the truck, were
    all quickly assessed and filed.  What the verdict was, Anna couldn't
    guess.  Alice Utterback's face gave nothing away .
    She didn't smile much, Anna noted.  A distinctly unfeminine trait .
    Women-girls-were taught to smile under any and all circumstances.
    Probably the human equivalent of the little dog showing the big dog its
    throat as a sign of submission.  Alice Utterback was evidently a big
    dog.
    "Your quarters aren't much," Norman Hull apologized as the procession
    started up again, moving toward the waiting trucks .
    "We've opened up an old VIP dorm but it's in pretty